Page 59 of Of Magic and Reindeer
Pierce led us toward the bar, grabbing a steaming mug and handing it to me. “This is the best hot spiced wine. Trust me.”
I wrapped my fingers around the warm ceramic as I took a seat, the aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg rising with the steam. Across the room, a few people glanced our way, their curious gazes lingering a beat too long.
Vix sat down, trying to appear nonchalant as his eyes darted around the room. “So, what do you think? Better than being cooped up in the cabin?”
I took a sip of the drink, allowing myself a moment of honesty. “It’s not so bad, but don’t push your luck.”
Pierce placed a hand on Vix’s shoulder. “Don’t jinx his luck because it’s only a matter of time before?—”
I nearly choked on my wine as the door slammed against the wall, cold air gusting through the inn. Every head turned toward the dramatic entrance of a woman in a bright purple cloak, snowflakes clinging to her wild auburn hair like tiny stars.
Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on Vix. Her expression morphed from determination to something that could only be described as vengeful delight.
“Oh shit.” Vix slid down in his chair, trying to make his six-foot-something frame disappear behind Pierce. “Pretend I’m not here.”
I raised an eyebrow, watching the woman brush snow from her shoulders with the flair of someone who practiced entrances in the mirror. “Friendof yours?”
“Not exactly.” Vix sank lower. “It’s about the ice sculpture… she’s the artist.”
Blitz snickered into his mug, eyes dancing with glee. “This is going to be good.”
The woman stalked toward our table, her boots leaving wet prints on the wooden floor. Vix attempted to disappear completely behind Pierce, who didn’t move an inch to help him.
“Some bodyguard you are,” Vix muttered, eyes wide with panic.
But halfway across the room, the woman froze. Her narrowed eyes shifted from Vix to me, and her mouth fell open in shock.
I tensed, bracing for another strange reaction. Was I growing antlers? Turning blue? Had someone put a “kick me, I’m Santa’s daughter” sign on my back?
Before I could check, the woman launched herself across the remaining distance and flung her arms around me, nearly knocking me off my stool. The hug was bone-crushing, her arms like steel bands around my ribs as she lifted me straight off my seat.
“Can’t… breathe…” I gasped, my face mashed against her shoulder.
“Neve!” she cried, her voice thick with emotion. “It’s really you!”
I stiffened in the woman’s embrace, my brain desperately trying to process what was happening. My mug dangled precariously from my fingertips as she continued to squeeze me like a python with abandonment issues.
“Um,” I wheezed out, “do I know you?”
The woman finally released me, holding me at arm’s length with her hands gripping my shoulders. Her emerald eyes were wide and glistening with unshed tears, her face split into a grin so bright it could have powered all of Reinberg’s Christmas lights.
“You don’t remember me? It’s Lumi! Luminescence Winter Wonderfrost?” She flipped her wild auburn hairover her shoulder, revealing the pointed tip of her ear before it disappeared again beneath her curls.
The world tilted sideways.
Lumi.
A flash of memory burst through my mind of two little girls racing down endless hallways lined with colorful packages, giggling as we slid across polished floors in fuzzy socks. Building snow forts with perfect snowballs while our parents worked. Sneaking extra candy canes from quality control.
“Your parents ran the stocking stuffer department,” I whispered, my voice small and distant to my own ears.
Lumi bounced on her toes, her hands fluttering excitedly. “Yes! Mom’s still there, and Dad got promoted to Small Electronics five years ago.” She paused, studying my face. “Holy candy canes! You actually forgot us?”
The room started spinning a little. I groped blindly for my seat, my knees suddenly not working like they were supposed to. Don’s steady hand found the small of my back, guiding me safely down onto the stool.
“I had an elf best friend,” I mumbled, more to myself than anyone else. “Of course I did. Because why wouldn’t I?”
Lumi’s expression softened. “We thought you were never coming back. After the incident?—”
