Falling for Kindred Claus: A Kindred Tales Novel (Brides of the Kindred) Read online

  “’We don’t talk like that’? Is that all you’re going to say?” the mother of the other little boy demanded. “I hope you realize you’re raising a serial killer right there, Sir! Not to mention a bully! Why, he attacked my little boy just because Ethan tried to tell him that shooting people is wrong. Which is something you ought to be teaching him!”

  Finally the dad put down his cell phone. He glared at the other boy’s mom.

  “Is that right, lady?” he said flatly. “And I guess you want the government to take away all our guns and leave us all defenseless. Ya know…” He pointed a finger at her. “Guns don’t kill people—people kill people.”

  “I know,” the woman snapped back. “People like you who raise their children to idolize violence and weapons of war!”

  Lisa was disgusted, both by the little boy’s bloodthirsty remarks and by his dad’s lackadaisical response but she didn’t think the other boy’s mom was helping the matter either by lecturing about parenting skills.

  “Excuse me,” she said, trying to get their attention. “Excuse me, Santa will be here in just a minute. So if everyone could just calm down…”

  But the two angry parents went right on yelling at each other. And instead of helping to break it up, the other people in the crowded line were whipping out their cell phones and recording the whole thing.

  Oh, I’m going to get into so much trouble over this! Lisa thought despairingly. As the main Santa helper she was supposed to be the coordinator for this particular time slot. Which meant that she was in charge if anything went wrong. She had accepted the deal gladly because it came with fifty cents more an hour. But now she was beginning to think that fifty dollars more an hour wouldn’t be worth this crap!

  “Excuse me!” she tried again, raising her voice almost to a shout. “Please, if you could just—”

  “Bleeding heart Lib-tard!” the dad was shouting now, his red and black plaid hunting cap pushed back on his forehead to show an angry face almost the same color as Santa’s suit. “People like you disgust me!”

  “People like me? What about people like you?” the woman demanded. “Can’t you understand this country is headed down the toilet because you can’t see what’s right in front of your face?”

  “What’s going to be in front of your face is my fist!” the man shouted back, holding up a clenched fist to illustrate his point. “If you don’t like our country the way it is, you can fucking well leave it!”

  “Hey!” Lisa shouted, stepping between them. “Hey, you can’t do that! You can’t threaten people here!”

  “I can do whatever I want to,” the man growled. “This is a free country, girly.” He leaned forward, shoving his face right into hers pugnaciously. His breath smelled like stale beer. “Did you hear me? A free…fucking…country!”

  With each word he poked her sharply in the sternum with one finger.

  Lisa flinched at each poke but tried not to back down, though it was hard. The angry dad was a head and a half taller than her and probably outweighed her by seventy pounds at least. But she couldn’t just let him hurt the other boy’s mom—could she? Oh, where was mall security when you needed them?

  “Excuse me, are you threatening this female?”

  The inhumanly deep voice behind Lisa made her gasp and everybody froze on the spot.

  Turning her head, she saw the huge Kindred standing there. He had put on the whole Santa outfit—beard included—but not the pillows. Instead he had wrapped the furry red fabric tightly around himself and cinched everything in place with the broad black belt with its thick brass buckle. His biceps were starkly visible, bulging the red fur of the sleeves, and his green eyes were snapping with anger as he glared at the man who was poking Lisa.

  “Uh…” The man looked up at him uncertainly. It was clear that the Kindred’s size and height started working on his nasty attitude at once. “Hi, Santa,” he said at last, rather lamely. “How’s the North Pole?”

  “I said, are you threatening her?” the Kindred demanded, ignoring the other guy’s attempt at a joke. “Because I will not tolerate that. She is under my protection. Stand down and apologize now.”

  The man looked angry—like he wanted to tell the big Kindred to fuck off—but it was clear he didn’t quite dare.

  “Yeah, right,” he snarled. “Whatever, man.”

  This answer plainly wasn’t good enough for the Kindred. His eyes flashed and for a moment Lisa could have sworn the emerald green turned to fiery red.

  “I said, apologize,” he growled. “NOW.”

  The man looked up at him uneasily. It was clear who would win in a fight—though Lisa fervently hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She could see the click-bait headlines all over social media now—Beefcake Santa pounds pissed-off Dad! Or maybe Bloody Christmas! Or something like that.

  At last the man shrugged.

  “Sorry,” he muttered sullenly to Lisa, not meeting her eyes. He raised his voice. “But none of this woulda happened if we hadn’t been kept waiting so long!”

  There were murmurs of agreement in the line, and Lisa saw that things could easily turn ugly again if she didn’t take control of the situation.

  “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.

  Chapter 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 anoth