Page 12 of Gemini Christmas
Just in case Neo’s dad’s tenants are normals.
Mordred manifests one more of his extras to pull the door shut behind us.
“Whoa.” Two steps into the warmth and light of the great room, I stop in my tracks and gaze around with appreciation. “Am I dreaming?”
“Zang.” Mordred moves up next to me, one tentacle snaking around my waist. Under his blue whiskers, his brown face is slack with awe. “If you are, we’re all havin’ the same dream.”
I mean, the place looked nice from the outside.
But dayum.
Inside, this joint’s halfway between an Elizabethan Tudor manor and Santa’s North Pole cottage. Gleaming hardwoodfloors spread under whitewashed walls paneled with polished wainscoting. The halls are decked with Christmas wreaths and velvet bows and boughs of holly. Ivy garlands the low-hanging wooden rafters between bundles of fragrant herbs hung near the fire to dry. Clusters of mistletoe, bright with berries, dangle from every doorway.
“Fa la la la la,” I hum under my breath. Because I literally can’t resist.
A massive Yule tree, glittering with tinsel and crowned with a blazing Star of David, totally fills one corner. Welcome heat and light crackle from the fire that dances in a stone hearth big enough to roast an ox.
Along the wall, a long table waits, festive with Christmas china and studded with flickering candles that exude a yummy bayberry fragrance.
That table’s set for nine.
Which is the exact number of bodies in our polycule.
My wondering eyes drift to the old-fashioned gramophone in one corner. The rich bass voice of Burl Ives pours through the gleaming horn, singing “Have a Holly Jolly Christmas”.
In direct contrast to all this Christmas cheer, my warlocks are spreading out warily to case the joint. All except Ash, who beelines straight for the fire with Neo.
“Um, hello?” I call. “Anyone home?”
Max appears suddenly in the open kitchen door. “There is no one else here, my sovereign. I have searched this kitchen and the wine cellar and the pantry. But… it is strange. As though the owners have only just left.”
“Maybe they’re hiding? I mean, we are kinda scary, I guess.” My gaze drifts from the burly kraken standing at my side with tentacles waving, to the Dark Fae with his blazing swords prowling suspiciously around our perimeter.
I eye the staircase rising along the back wall. “Has anyone checked up there?”
“I have.” Vasili emerges at the head of the stairs and glides down to join us, dark overcoat whispering at his heels. “There’s nothing up here except a loft bedroom… with a very large bed. An Alaskan king.”
He says that pretty pointedly, punctuating the statement with one arched eyebrow.
That’s because we sleep in a puppy pile, back home at the Icarus Academy, in an Alaskan king bed.
They’re pretty rare. Even a monster bed like that one isn’t truly big enough for nine of us, especially now when we’re preggy.
But it’s the biggest bed we can usually find, so we make it work.
My gaze shifts from V’s suspicious face to the warm glow of the kitchen behind Max. Enclosed in the warmth of the cottage confines, the rich smells of cooking food emanating from that kitchen are stronger.
That’s when I notice Max gripping a big serving fork, the tines impaled with a hefty wedge of pink meat. With a total lack of manners, my alpha dragon lifts the fork to his mouth and tears off a ravenous bite.
I give a deep sniff with my shifty-sharp nose. “Is that…?”
“Honey-baked ham,” he affirms, mumbling around the meat. “This kitchen stove is busy with pots and pans. Someone is cooking a very large Christmas dinner. And I am very hungry. This little bite will not be missed.”
He pairs this statement with a starved and pleading look from his big golden eyes. His slitted dragon pupils widen in an imploring way.
I don’t have the heart to scold him.
But our headmaster does.
