A Very Faerie Christmas Read online

  A Very Faerie Christmas

  The Fae Guard Book 4

  Elle Christensen

  Contents

  Quote

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Also by Elle Christensen

  About the Author

  A Very Faerie Christmas

  Copyright © 2015 Elle Christensen

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  Cover Design: Elle Christensen

  Photo: Deposit Photos

  Editor: Jacqueline Ayres

  Formatting: Rochelle Paige

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  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Quote

  And I don’t mind if we take our time, ‘cause I’m all yours if you’re all mine.

  “I Don’t Mind” by Defeater

  “What if Christmas, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!”

  ― Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas!

  For the one who was always meant to be mine.

  * * *

  Ro

  We look nothing alike, we are different ages, and our ancestors hail from different countries.

  And yet, we were clearly separated at birth.

  #twinmoments

  Chapter One

  Phin

  “Bartender! Shots all around!”

  I shake my head at the (obviously drunk) woman leaning against the bar, her purple eyes squinting at me. A chorus of hoots and hollers come from the room at the back of my bar, Rock Falls, and Fate’s head whips in that direction, causing her to stumble slightly.

  “Fate, when I said ‘that’s the last round,’ I meant—that’s the last round.”

  Fate turns back to me and rolls her eyes, “Give me a break, boy scout. Do you know how fucking rare it is to party with my girls when we can all get wasted?” She wrinkles her nose as though she smells something rotten, “Never. Not even now! Laila is nursing and can’t get smashed at her own bachelorette party!”

  A shudder rolls through her and she swipes the bottle of tequila from my hands, pours herself a shot, and tosses it back. “Besides, this shit is the only stuff safe to drink these days. If I drink the water, I could end up carrying spawn like all the other women around here.”

  I snatch the alcohol back and slide a bottle of water over to her. “Drink this, it’s bottled; I think you’re safe.”

  Fate directs an insulted glare at me, “I’m always safe, Asshat. If a guy wants up in my heat, he’s gotta wrap his meat.”

  I stifle a laugh, deftly keeping the bottle of liquor out of her reach, “I’m serious, Fate. Cut off. All of you.” She glares at me for a minute more, then huffs and stomps off toward the back. Aaaand, another reason to be glad you’re not the one she’s coming home to.

  I stow the tequila behind the bar and give a chin lift to the other bartender working tonight. Fafnar’s green eyes are dancing with mirth and he returns the gesture, agreeing with my silent request to hold down the fort. I hired Fafnar a couple of years ago and he quickly became a staple here, completely essential to keeping the bar running smoothly. He’s a complete contradiction with his large, muscular frame with long, white hair that is braided back from each temple and hanging long down his back. His face is square with prominent angles, there are black gauges in his ears, and tattoos peeking out from the collar and sleeves of the bar t-shirt he’s wearing. Upon first impression, he could easily scare the shit out of anyone, but the second they look into his twinkling eyes and charismatic smile, they are put at ease and usually feel like they’ve just reconnected with an old friend.

  I glance out over the energetic crowd, spotting my other employee, Seàrlaid, weaving through the tables, returning to the bar with a tray full of empty bottles. She smiles seductively when she meets my eyes, and flicks her long, straight, white-blonde hair over her shoulder. A corner of my mouth lifts in response but it lacks the heat emanating from her expression. Seeing that everything is well in hand, I make my way to end of the bar, lift the hinged section of the lacquered oak surface and step through, hanging a left to enter my office. Pulling my cell out of my pocket, I dial the number for Aden Foster.

  “Please tell me you’re calling me before the police,” Aden’s voice is dry and resigned.

  I chuckle, “They haven’t brought the house down yet, but I think it might be time for them to quit while they are ahead.”

  Aden sighs deeply, “I’ll be there in a few, and I’ll pass the word to Ean and Brannon to come and get their women, and my brother to pick up my sisters.” Aden’s sister, Laila, is getting married in a week and their five sisters have come into town and are currently partying with the bride-to-be’s two best friends, Shaylee and Hayleigh, as well as Fate.

  We hang up and I sit down to do some paperwork. A knock on my door brings me out of my focused state, and a glance at the clock tells me it's two o’clock in the morning. “Yeah,” I call.

  Seàrlaid slips through the door, shutting it behind her, and circling the desk to put her hands on my shoulders, slowly kneading out the tension. “Fafnar and I closed up, it’s time to head out,” she leans down and I feel her hot breath in my ear, “Why don’t you come over and relax at my place? I can work out the knots all over your body.”

  Whoa, down girl. How about we back that shit up?

  I reach up and take hold of her hands, giving them a gentle squeeze. We’ve gone out a couple of times, but there was no spark for me and I never let on that there was, so the invitation surprises me. “Seàrlaid, I appreciate the offer, but that’s not where our relationship is headed. I’m not a ‘friends with benefits’ kind of guy. And that’s all we are, babe—friends.” My head swivels to look up at her, hoping that I won’t see hurt-filled eyes, and am disappointed. I sigh internally, since when do two dates equal a marriage proposal? She covers the negative emotion quickly, winking and stepping back.

  “Well, if you change your mind…” she trails off, then heads for the door, throwing me a smile before stepping out. I rest my elbows on my desk and rub two fingers around my temples. After a couple of minutes, I straighten up my desk, then lock up my office and the front door. Walking across the parking lot to get into my forest green jeep, I shiver from a gust of wind. It’s been an unusually cold November for Mivo and I can’t help but revel a little in my shivers, while I wait for the car to heat up. It reminds me of the Christmases I spent in Rock Falls, the small Canadian town where I spent my first year of college, and the namesake of my bar. I’d grown up in Vancouver and while I am a city boy, I’d loved the small-town feel and the people I met in Rock Falls. It was cold, often white with snow, and many a night was spent curled up with a fire and a hot drink.

  Once the engine is purring and heat is blasting, I make the twenty-minute drive to my duplex, one of the rentals I own in addition to the bar. I park the jeep in the garage and hit the button to close it as I enter the door to the mud room. The house is dark, the sun having gone down a couple of hours ago. The nights are longer this time of year, however it’s still light from about six am to around one in the morning. I toss my keys into a bowl on the marble counter of my kitchen as I walk through toward my bedroom. I flip the light on, my fae eyes having a harder time seeing in the dark. The light floods the room, immediately sharpening my gaze, which causes something at the window to draw my attention.

  I saunter over to the window and I feel a broad smile split my face at the sight of the fluffy white snowflakes floating to the ground. I can’t remember the last time it snowed in Mivo. Growing up, my parents used to tell me that the snow brought good luck and as I watch the magical sight, I get the overwhelming feeling that something special is headed my way.

  Chapter Two

  Meallá

  “Meallá! Do you have a death wish?” Delicia’s voice rings out in the quiet morning.

  I wave her off as I hop down from the wobbly ladder I’d been standing on. “Relax, girl! I had a handle on it!” I stand back, ignoring her muttering and admiring my handy work. We’ve just finished hanging up the last wreath and row of garland on the front of the gazebo in the epicenter of the old farm. I clap my hands in excitement and twirl slowly to take in the panorama of all our hard work. We’ve turned the unused area into a winter wonderland, all ready for a Christmas event!

  This land, owned by the city, has been abandoned for decades. When I volunteered to organi
ze a Christmas party for the group home, the council offered me this space and asked if I’d be willing to take it to the next level. They wanted a holiday fair to invite the whole city to. Over the last six months, I’ve constantly wondered what the hell I’d been thinking, but every time something falls into place, I remember why. The smiles, the magic in the air, the spirit of happiness in everyone; I love this time of year.

  Delicia sidles up and finishes the rotation with me. “Not bad,” she whispers with awe, “Damn, Meallá . . . not bad at all.” The whole field around the gazebo is scattered with brightly painted red and green picnic tables. Then, branching out from there, we’ve created little mini “towns,” each with themed activities and food. There are lights, bows, trees, brightly colored presents, and of course, blow-up Christmas decorations. Inside the gazebo is a life-size sleigh, angled and widened to hold Santa and a child.

  I scoff at Delicia’s choice of words, “Not bad?—It’s fucking epic.” I wave to the volunteers, calling out my thanks as they trek to the parking area and head out for the night. I take a last look around, appreciating the sparkling lights that twinkle to fae eyes in the sun, the way they would to a human in the dark. The greenery shimmers and the red, silver, and gold accent decorations transform the whole space into a winter wonderland. The winters in the light parts of Rien are mild, and they make me miss the cold and snowy holidays in Canada, where I spent my childhood. This year, however, has been unusually brisk and I’ve enjoyed the chance to bundle up and feel Jack Frost nipping at my nose. A pure rush of happiness flows through me when I think about the present I got earlier this morning. I’d woken up crazy early, while it was still dark, and noticed a something outside my window. When I got up to investigate, I saw white fluff falling, sprinkling the ground with its effervescent glow. A year ago, I had a friend who told me that snow was “lucky.” Now, looking at our progress, I’m thinking, he might have been right. “Four weeks to go and we’re on schedule!” I rub my chilly hands together excitedly and bounce on my toes. I have to be grateful for the longevity of plants in Rien, or it would have made decorating this far out impossible. Now, I can focus on the rest of the fair, making sure everything with the vendors, games, and of course, Santa, is running smoothly.

  I couldn’t have done it without Delicia. I met her at the youth home shortly after I moved here and we became fast friends. She’s young, not quite twenty-three, and a newly assigned member of the Mie'Lorvor, the Fae Guard. For our own sole purposes, we spend a good portion of our time working with local kids who’ve lost their families. In my case, spending time with the kids fills a hole inside me. Though I work with many new fate readers (young and old), teaching them how to use their skill, I mainly focus on the children. The ones who don’t have anyone at home to lean on or learn from. I have awesome parents and am still close with them and my three sisters, so I ache to give that love and attention to other children.

  “The kids are going to love this, Meallá. For reals,” Delicia chirps, grabbing my hand and giving it a small squeeze. Then she tugs my arm, starting toward the parking lot and towing me along behind her. “Let’s celebrate!” she cheers. I laugh and skip forward to catch up so I don’t fall flat on my face. When we reach our cars, she releases me and points at me with her key, “Go get dolled up, we’re going out!”

  I follow her to her car, shaking my head. “Dolled up?” I snicker at her choice of words and she sticks her tongue out at me, but the effect is ruined when she breaks out into a big grin.

  “I’ll meet you at your place at nine.”

  Her enthusiasm is infectious. “Ok, sure,” I agree. “Where are we going?”

  “Rock Falls.”

  I stumble back in shock at her announcement. Delicia is unlocking the door to her little sports car, so she doesn’t notice my reaction. “I’m sorry,” I croak, “where?”

  My tone naturally alerts her that something is off and she faces me before confirming her earlier statement, “Rock Falls. It’s a bar on the other side of town. You haven’t been there?” she asks. I shake my head. “I hang out with the girls there from time to time. Mostly when Fate is in a “mood” and we don’t want to have our girl’s night in her domain.” She rolls her eyes, then looks at me curiously until I see it dawning on her. “Oh, that’s right. We’ve never gone there on a night that you were with us.”

  I’m still in a bit stupor that there is a bar named after the town where I grew up, so I just shake my head in response. Rock Falls is a small town and I start racking my brain to figure out how this establishment came to have that name. “Is the owner from there?” I prod for more information.

  Delicia cocks her head to the side and her curiosity returns, “I think so. I don’t know him very well,” She pauses and a lovely blush stains her cheeks, “He is seriously hot, though, like—melt your panties, beg him to drag you back to his lair—hot.”

  The blush has intensified and she looks a little embarrassed by her fervent admission. I slap my hands across my mouth in an effort to curtail my amusement but I can’t help it, I burst out laughing. “You should see your face, Dee!” I chortle. She shoves my shoulder lightly and mock glares at me with icy blue eyes, then huffs and spins back to her car. She lowers herself into the seat and yells, “Nine!” before her door slams shut. She waits for me to get into my car, then waves and roars off toward the road. I glance at the clock and see that it's after seven, so I quickly start the car and drive toward my apartment.

  On the drive, my mind wanders to the bar once again. This cannot be a coincidence. It’s got to be somebody from my hometown, but there was only one other half-fae family that I knew of and it certainly isn’t Maon, their only child and my best friend growing up. I stew over it for a minute, my mind wandering to the only other half I’d met before coming to Rien was in college—no , I can’t imagine, of all the places… My wandering thoughts come to a halt when I reach my building and enter the parking garage below. Knowing Delicia will be here in less than two hours, I focus on getting ready for our evening out, thoughts of Rock Falls relegated to the back of my mind.

  After I grab a quick snack, I hop into the shower, then blow my hair out so it lays slightly below my shoulders, the shorter strands, in the front, sweeping across my forehead to tuck behind one ear. I stand in front of my closet and contemplate my options. I was blessed, or cursed, depending on what I want to wear, with a very curvy body. Like a fifties Hollywood-starlet- curvy, but without the glamor. I decide to go all out with a short, but high-waisted, black leather skirt, and tucking in an emerald green, fitted top with one long sleeve that is just loose enough to be split down the center, playing peekaboo with my pale skin. I leave my neck bare in favor of chandelier earrings that remind me of cascading snowflakes, and black, lace-up, peep-toe heels that add six inches to my five-foot-four frame and make my legs look miles long. Bright red lipstick, a smoky eye that makes my green eyes pop, and I’m ready to go. Delicia rings my doorbell right on time. I grab my black, wool wrap coat and purse, then run out the door.

  “Well, hell, Meallá. You could make a good dog break its leash,” Delicia praises after a slow whistle. I do a silly twirl, laughing, then take a good look at her outfit.

  She’s got on a red, strapless jumpsuit, and black, high-heeled ankle boots. Her wispy blonde hair is swept up in the back, showing off the chunky gold jewelry that adorns her slender neck and ears. “You’re not so bad yourself, kid,” I offer back. She giggles, links her arm with mine, and together, we traipse down the hallway to the elevator, off to let our hair down, so to speak.