Chapter 37 The Family Business
The Family Business
Isteadied the reins, trying to look like I knew what the hell I was doing while simultaneously battling the urge to vomit from nerves. The sleigh lifted beneath me, magic thrumming through the polished wood and up my arms like electricity finding its path of least resistance.
At least I looked the part. My mom and the elves had made me a sleigh-riding ensemble straight out of a magical Vogue spread.
The red velvet coat was silver-trimmed and shimmered with embedded snowflakes.
White fur lined the hood and cuffs in typical Santa fashion.
My red leggings were warm enough to survive the stratosphere, and my boots were charmed to never slip on ice.
A belt of jingle bells cinched the coat at my waist, which seemed unnecessarily festive until I realized they rang in perfect harmony with my reindeer’s harnesses.
They were charmed to be silenced when entering houses.
“You’ve got this, Neve.”
Rudy’s voice in my head was steady, a warm presence against the chaos of my thoughts. The bond between us pulsed with each beat of his heart, his massive form at the front of my team, antlers gleaming with enchanted light.
I took a deep breath and straightened my spine. “Sure, no problem. Just casually flying through a portal with nine magical reindeer. Totally normal Christmas Eve activity.”
The sleigh tilted upward at a steeper angle, and my stomach lurched in protest. Around me, nine energies vibrated through our bond, sending comfort and joy.
Dad’s sleigh glided effortlessly beside mine, his team of reindeer cutting through the air. The silver bells on their harnesses chimed in perfect harmony with my herd’s.
“Ready?” Dad’s voice came through my earpiece.
I gave a jerky nod that probably screamed “absolutely not ready” in fifty different languages.
The veil shimmered ahead of us, an impossible curtain of magic that separated the North Pole from the rest of reality. Dad’s sleigh slipped through first, the barrier rippling like water as he disappeared.
I mentally steeled myself and tightened my grip on the reins.
We burst through the veil, the starry night sky stretching infinitely around us. Below, the lights of a sleeping town twinkled. My first delivery would be with my dad, and then we would split up, each with our own routes.
Dad’s sleigh dipped lower, and I followed, mirroring his movements. The houses grew larger, and I focused my magic along with my dad’s to freeze time in the area.
Dad signaled, and both sleighs dipped lower toward a modest two-story home with a trio of inflatable snowmen in the yard. The sleighs hovered about five feet above the shingles, waiting for us.
Just as we’d practiced, I focused on teleporting into the living room. I didn’t have to know what the inside looked like, just a general idea of it. My stomach swooped, and suddenly I was standing next to a couch.
There was a big dog sleeping curled up next to the fireplace, and had time not been frozen, my leg would have been within striking distance.
I blinked, trying to reorient myself.
Dad winked and gestured toward the tree. With a flourish of his hands, wrapped packages materialized, stacked perfectly beneath the lowest branches.
Right. My turn.
I concentrated on the row of stockings hanging from the fireplace mantel. I flicked my wrist, focusing my intent through the gesture, and watched with satisfaction as each stocking filled with small treasures.
The dog’s frozen form caught my attention again. Its fur looked so soft.
I reached toward it, but Dad cleared his throat and shook his head, pointing to a small table where cookies and milk had been left out.
Dad picked up a sugar cookie, taking a ceremonial bite before setting it back down with a bite missing. I followed suit, grimacing as I sipped the room-temperature milk.
With another subtle gesture, Dad vanished most of the milk from the glass.
“Smart man,” I mouthed.
A tingling sensation washed over me as Dad’s magic enveloped us both. One moment we were standing beside the Christmas tree, and the next we were back in our sleighs.
My dad grinned at me. “You’ve got this, Snowflake. Remember to focus on the living room, not just inside the house. And call if you need anything at all.”
“Right. Living room. Specific. Got it.” I watched as he took the reins and took off, headed for the next street over.
My sleigh remained in perfect, magical suspension above the rooftop, nine magical reindeer breathing soft clouds of vapor into the frozen night.
The weight of centuries of tradition settled onto my shoulders. Just me. Alone. Delivering Christmas magic.
“That was perfect, Neve.” Rudy’s voice filled my mind. “We’ll be right here waiting.”
The nine bonds pulsed through me, and my racing heart settled a fraction.
“Okay,” I whispered to myself. “Living room. Next house. I can do this.”
I closed my eyes, focusing on the image of a cozy living room in the house next door.
A bubble of magic enveloped me, and when I opened my eyes, I was staring at the back of a man in boxer shorts, frozen with a pair of nose hair trimmers.
His face was contorted into what had to be the least dignified expression in human history.
“Oh, fuck me with a candy cane.” I slapped a hand over my mouth.
I had clearly focused on “inside” and not “living room.”
I squeezed my eyes shut again, concentrating with painful specificity on the living room of this house. The Christmas tree.
The magic swirled, and I materialized in what was, thankfully, the correct living room. An elegant tree stood in the corner.
I flicked my wrist, focusing on the wrapped presents appearing under the tree. As they materialized, my elbow knocked a glass ornament, sending it swinging precariously.
I lunged forward, grabbing for it and nearly toppled the entire tree. A glass star tree topper went flying off.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
Time might have been frozen, but physics apparently still had a sense of humor.
I cast a desperate freezing spell, halting the star’s descent three inches from the hardwood floor. I returned it to its perch and backed away from the tree as if it were an armed explosive.
I needed to find the cookies, take the ceremonial bite, and get out.
On the mantel sat a plate of the most suspicious-looking oatmeal raisin cookies I’d ever seen. They were the sad, health-conscious type that were probably made with applesauce instead of butter, with raisins that looked mummified rather than plump.
I picked up the least offensive one and reluctantly took a small bite.
“Oh, sweet baby reindeer.” I gagged, barely able to swallow the dry, tasteless lump. I could have magicked away the milk, but my palate was desperate for liquid, so I took a large gulp.
Unfortunately, it was almond milk, and while I had enjoyed that before, it now tasted like liquefied cardboard with a hint of tree bark.
With the ritual complete, I concentrated on the next house.
The veil shimmered ahead, welcoming us home. We’d made millions of deliveries, and somehow I’d managed not to traumatize any children or pets.
My sleigh glided alongside Dad’s as we passed through the ethereal boundary between the mortal world and the North Pole. We descended toward the castle stables, the massive wooden doors swinging open as if greeting us.
As we landed, I slumped back against the sleigh’s seat, limbs feeling like they’d been replaced with jelly. Every nerve ending in my body buzzed with a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration. I’d actually done it. I’d helped deliver Christmas.
My dad met my eyes from across the stable. “How do you feel, Snowflake?”
I let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “Like I’ve been run over by nine very muscular reindeer, then peeled off the ground and stuffed into a stocking.”
The stable filled with the distinctive shimmer of magic as my team transformed back into their human forms, clothing materializing as their bodies shifted. Rudy reached me first, his large hands encircling my waist as he lifted me from the sleigh with effortless strength.
“You were magnificent.” His deep voice rumbled through my bones as he set me on my feet, steadying me when my knees threatened to buckle.
The others surrounded me in a circle of warmth and pride, hands reaching to touch any part of me they could.
Pierce pressed his lips to my temple. “Our Christmas queen delivered her first holiday.”
“You only knocked over what? Three trees?” Vix tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Four.”
Blitz draped an arm around my shoulders. “At least you got lots of cookies.”
I peered through my fingers. “Some of those things should not be considered cookies.”
Dad approached our huddle, and I could see the fatigue in the slight droop of his shoulders.
But his eyes still held the magic that was uniquely his.
“Eating terrible cookies is a Claus rite of passage. One time, in 1985, your mother went along for the ride, and she projectile-vomited after a heinous gingerbread crime against Christmas.”
“Christopher!” Mom’s voice rang out as she hurried into the stables. “Must you tell that story every year?”
“Only until it stops being funny, my dear.” He smiled at her, and magic shimmered between them.
Mom reached us, her hands cool against my flushed cheeks as she examined me. “You look tired but whole. No magic depletion at all.”
“Just existential cookie trauma.” I sighed. “Someone even left out celery, hummus, and kombucha. Who does that?”
My mom’s laughter was like bells, filling the stable with its melody. “You survived your first Christmas Eve delivery. How does it feel to be part of the family business?”
The question settled over me, heavy with meaning. “It feels...” I searched for the right words. “Like coming home.”
Rudy’s arm tightened around my waist, his pride flowing through our bond. Dad’s eyes misted slightly, and Mom squeezed my hand.
I straightened my shoulders. “Next year, any household that leaves out oatmeal raisin cookies is going straight onto the naughty list. I’m making it an official North Pole policy.”
Dad threw his head back in laughter, the sound echoing off the rafters. “I’ve been wanting to implement that rule for centuries!”
Something settled within me. The night had been chaotic, exhausting, and completely ridiculous at times, but standing here surrounded by my herd, my parents, and the magic that flowed through all of us...
I was finally home.