Falling for Kindred Claus Read online

  “Listen up, everybody,” she shouted, raising her voice to be heard above the crowd. “As you can see, Santa is finally here and ready to hear all your children’s Christmas wishes. So please keep in line—we are starting now!”

  She grabbed the big Kindred, who was still glaring at the dad, by the arm, and towed him back to “Santa’s throne.” It was a wide wooden seat with a high back, padded with a red velvet cushion.

  She got the Kindred to sit down on it, though his big body was still stiff with anger.

  At least another certain part of him wasn’t stiff anymore, thank goodness—she saw, glancing at the crotch of the furry red Santa trousers. Maybe he’d been right and it was just her scent doing something to him. She tried to remember if she was wearing any perfume today but she didn’t think so.

  “Hey, loosen up,” she muttered in his ear. The puffy white beard he was wearing was slightly crooked and she took the opportunity to straighten it as she spoke. “We’re about to get the line going. You have to not look so angry or the kids are going to be scared of you!”

  “Forgive me.” He took a deep breath and the angry lines between his black brows ironed themselves out. “It was just…when I saw him threatening you, I nearly went into Rage.”

  “Yeah, you looked enraged all right,” Lisa said, frowning. “But you’ve got to calm down now or you’ll scare the pee out of some of the littler ones out there.”

  “All right.” He nodded and took a deep breath. “This is the strangest mission I have ever been given, but I will do my best not to scare the children.”

  “Good.” Privately, Lisa thought he was still pretty scary. She wished she could get him back into Santa’s Workshop for a minute and stuff the red suit with pillows—at least that might make him look more approachable and more like a real Santa. Right now, he looked like a huge bouncer who had simply put on a Santa suit and was looking to crack some skulls.

  But it was too late for that now—she had to get this show up and running before anything else bad happened. Taking a deep breath, she called for the first child to come and sit on Santa’s knee.

  Somehow she had to get through this.

  Five

  Asher sat stiffly on the large padded chair, taking deep breaths and trying to control the remnants of the Rage that had threatened to overtake him. What was wrong with him, nearly losing control like that? Never, in hundreds of missions, had he ever let his emotions take over and make him do something stupid. He had told himself he was as cold as ice—impervious to anything.

  And all it had taken was one curvy little Earth girl to melt his ice and nearly ruin his self-control. When he had seen the male threatening her, his first impulse had been to pound the bastard to a bloody pulp. Seven Hells, he had to get a grip on himself!

  He took another deep breath, glad that he couldn’t smell her bewitchingly sweet scent. He hoped devoutly that this mission would be over soon so he could go. The girl affected him too much for comfort.

  He tried to compose himself and got ready for the first child.

  Unfortunately, it turned out to be the little miscreant who had started the scuffle in the first place. He came marching up to the wooden chair where Asher was sitting in the uncomfortably hot fur suit, a truculent expression on his freckled face. His father—the man who had threatened Asher’s contact—stood by with his arms crossed and a scowl, as though daring Asher to turn his son away.

  That was exactly what Asher wanted to do but when he looked at his contact, she gave a quick shake of her head. Clearly there would be trouble if he refused to host this particular child on his lap.

  Clenching his jaw, Asher beckoned to the boy and pointed to his right knee.

  “Sit,” he said curtly.

  The boy sat and then just looked at him.

  Coming up beside him, his contact hissed in Asher’s ear, “You have to ask him what he wants for Christmas!”

  Asher gritted his teeth.

  “What gifts do you want for the upcoming Earth holiday?” he demanded in a low growl.

  The boy blanched, but then lifted his chin defiantly.

  “I want a machine gun. A real one!”

  “Absolutely not,” Asher snapped, losing his patience. He might not know much about Earth, but he was well aware that they had projectile weapons as capable of claiming a life as any Kindred blaster. He was certain that a child with this temperament—and especially of this age—couldn’t handle such a responsibility.

  “What?” The boy stared at him uncertainly. “But…I’m s’posed to get anything I want if I’m on the nice list!”

  “Well, you’re not,” Asher told him. “Your behavior has been unacceptable and you will get nothing but dirty lumps of carbon from Satan Claus—I mean Santa Claus,” he corrected himself. “Correct your behavior and maybe you will get a non-lethal gift next holiday season. Now get down and send the next child.”

  The boy’s eyes got so wide Asher thought they might swallow his freckled face. But the look Asher was giving him seemed to quell his defiance. He slid off Asher’s knee and ran back to his dad who shot him a last enraged glance and stalked off, stiff-legged, with his shoulders in an angry line.

  “Oh no!” Asher’s contact exclaimed. “Wait—you didn’t even get a picture,” she called to the man.

  “You can keep your fucking picture, lady!” the man shot back angrily. “I’m going to have a word with your boss and see what he thinks of his Santa acting like an asshole to my kid!”

  “Shit!” the girl muttered under her breath. She turned to Asher. “Look, can you please try to lighten up? You’re going to get me into so much trouble.”

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “But I didn’t think a child that young was ready for the responsibility of owning a projectile weapon.”

  “Well of course he’s not!” the girl hissed. “But you’re not supposed to say that! Just ask the kids what they want for Christmas, try to act jolly, and don’t tell anyone else they’re on the naughty list. Okay?”

  Asher nodded.

  “I’ll try,” he said honestly. Clearly he was missing some of the nuances of this mission but he wasn’t sure how to do any better. Also, he had never been “jolly” in his life. Still for her sake, he told himself, he would do his best.

  His contact was already bringing the next child—a little girl with long blonde braids who looked at him timidly as she perched on his knee.

  “Greetings,” Asher said, trying to sound cheerful. “And what gift would you like for this holiday season?”

  The little girl brightened at the mention of a gift.

  “What I want, Santa, is a kitten,” she announced.

  Asher frowned and scanned his memory. This was his first trip to Earth but he had studied up on its cultures, people, and animals before he had come. As far as he could remember, a kitten was a small furry animal with long whiskers and big eyes. That sounded harmless enough.

  “A kitten it is,” he said, smiling broadly.

  “Really?” The little girl looked at him in apparent joy and disbelief. “I can really have a kitten, of my very own?”

  “Yes, really,” Asher said firmly. “Since I believe you are on the ‘Nice list,’ I will certainly bring you a kitten when I break into your home before the holiday.”

  The girl frowned a little, clearly puzzled.

  “Oh, you mean when you slide down the chimney?” she asked.

  “Yes, when I break into your domicile by, uh, sliding down the chimney,” Asher affirmed, though he had no idea what a chimney was or how one went about sliding down it.

  “Okay.” The girl brightened. “And since I’m on the nice list, can I have a puppy too?”

  Asher remembered that a puppy was another kind of young furry animal—clearly this little girl was interested in animals. Much better than the other boy, who had wished for weapons, he thought.

  “Yes,” he said firmly. “You can have a kitten and a puppy.”

  “And a pony?” the girl