In the Cards, page 13
“Merry Christmas, Alex.”
With a start, he looked up to see his former superior sitting in a chair near the end of the bed.
“Michael? What are you doing here?” Alex twitched the covers to ensure Emma was properly covered.
“Just checking on a former employee. I want to wish him well in his new life.”
“New life? So this is real?”
The corner of Michael’s mouth twitched as if he were amused. “Yes, it’s real. You’ve been given a Christmas gift, Alexander. You’re fully human.”
Alex couldn’t contain the grin he felt spreading over his face. “That’s great. Do I dare ask why?”
“You’ve served as a GA for quite some time, one of the best in the squadron as a matter of fact.” Michael eased back in his seat. “I had noticed, however, a subtle change in you. A certain weariness, maybe the beginnings of burnout. I knew you needed something different so I sent you to Emma.”
“But why not just make me human right away?”
“The gift of humanity isn’t given lightly.”
“So you were testing me by putting Emma’s life in danger?” He frowned.
“Not testing, exactly. More like checking your suitability for such a dramatic change. As I told you before, humans and angels have free will. At any point you could have chosen to save yourself, to remain a guardian angel, but you didn’t.”
“So…?”
“Self-sacrifice deserves a reward. Emma was willing to give her life for you. You gave up eternity to save her, to see her live a long life. The end result is that you now get to spend the rest of your Earthly lives together.”
Together. Alex liked the sound of that. He and Emma could marry, have a family… A grim thought crossed his mind and he frowned. “You told me Emma was scheduled to die. Is that still going to happen?”
“Everyone dies eventually, Alex. You might recall, however, I never said when she would die.”
“Any hints?”
Michael pursed his lips and appeared deep in thought for a minute, then gave a nod. “I can’t be specific but suffice to say the two of you will likely not be talking to me again for quite some time. If you play your cards right, that is.”
A feeling of contentment settled over Alex; a knowledge deep inside that spending his life with Emma was exactly where he was meant to be. Whatever came their way in the future, they’d face it together.
“Thanks, Michael, for everything.” He extended his hand to shake and then drew back, recalling the last time his palm had connected with the archangel’s. That was what had started the whole turning into a shade business, he was sure of it.
Michael chuckled not seeming in the least offended. “One last thing, Alex. Actually, two last things. First of all, Emma will probably need to go job hunting. There will be an in-depth police investigation of Montrose’s business dealings; Stapleton, together with his partners, will be caught in their net. Secondly, there’s a package next to Emma’s computer with all the documentation needed for your new life. And don’t thank me. I’m just the messenger. It’s the Boss who’s ultimately responsible.”
“Right.” Alex flicked a look upwards and whispered a thank you.
When he looked back towards the end of the bed, the chair was empty and Emma was no longer frozen in place. She was removing the elastic around the cards, seemingly unaware of the conversation that had just transpired around her.
Alex glanced at the note one more time and noticed a post script seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. He read the message again. “Play the rest of your hand carefully and be sure to follow the rules. – M. P.S. Beware of accepting handshakes from archangels.” Chuckling at his supervisor’s sense of humour and minimalistic explanation, he looked up at the woman who held his heart in her very capable, very lovely hands.
“Who is this M person? And what does that message mean?” Emma questioned as she took the note to read it for herself.
“Michael.”
“Michael? Michael who?” She rolled her eyes. “I’m starting to sound like an owl, saying ‘who’ all the time!”
“Michael, the archangel.”
Her mouth opened to form a perfect ‘O’.
Laughing, Alex leaned forward and kissed her. “Don’t look so surprised. I told you about him last night.”
“You told me lots of things last night. I think I stopped listening halfway through.”
“That’s okay. Even if you had been listening the entire time, I’m sure your enquiring mind would still come up with a ton of questions.”
“You’re probably right.” She murmured her response, now sorting through the cards. “I wonder what game this deck is for. It only has aces and face cards.” She held them up for him to see.
A broad grin slowly spread over his face. “Emma, you and I are going to have a long and happy life together.”
“What? How do you know? Oh, who cares!” She tossed the cards into the air and wrapped her arms around him. “Merry Christmas, Alex.”
“Merry Christmas, Emma.”
And as the cards drifted down around them they sank onto the pillows to celebrate as only two lovers can.
Fin
Keep reading for two bonus short stories from Nicky Charles.
BONUS: Silent Night, Lonely Night
Have you read Nicky Charles’ Law of the Lycans series? This is a short story from that series. Nicky wrote this several years ago. Please note it occurs before Betrayed: Days of the Rogue. Damien has just lost Beth and his unborn child. This is how his first Christmas after that horrific event might have unfolded.
Damien hunched his shoulders against the cold wind that stole his breath and reddened his cheeks before swirling down the nearly deserted main street. Snowflakes, mixed with bits of ice, stung his face and clung to his lashes, blurring his vision. He blinked irritably but trudged on, the slush underfoot soaking his feet. He didn’t have boots and his toes were growing numb.
Damien, why didn’t you dress properly for this weather? Beth’s voice echoed in his head, scolding him as she pulled off his wet socks and chafed his frozen feet in her warm hands.
A smile drifted over his face as he imagined how the scene would unfold until they were both warming themselves in bed.
Bed.
Weariness, soul deep, had settled on him, the winter chill sapping his energy. He should find a place to spend the night, but it seemed too much of an effort. Curling up in an alley and drifting off into oblivion would be much easier. There were worse ways to die than hypothermia, he mused. His steps slowed and he eyed the narrow space between two buildings. It really didn’t matter to anyone if he lived or died…
Damien!
He forced himself to move, Beth’s reprimand sounding in his head. She wanted him to keep going, and for her he would. For her he would do anything.
A door opened to his right, its sensors having detected his presence. He paused as light and warmth spilled out onto the frozen street, pushing back the darkness, beckoning him to come closer. Snatches of Christmas carols filled the air and his nose tingled from the scent of ginger and cinnamon. Reaching out, he caught the handle as the door began to close, for some reason drawn to the interior of the building.
The bell above the door jingled merrily as it closed behind him, blocking the bitterness of the wintery night while at the same time sealing him into the epitome of a Christmas wonderland.
Plastic reindeer and grinning elves adorned the shelves. Garland and twinkling lights were draped over the windows and wrapped around posts. A trio of mechanical snowmen waved and sang while a miniature train driven by Santa wove its way through a tiny village. Damien stared at the display. He hadn’t even realized the season. It was Christmas.
I love Christmas. Baking cookies, decorating the tree. Beth smiled at him, her dove grey eyes bright with excitement.
Christmas.
His heart clenched in pain. He’d never shared a Christmas with Beth. She’d been taken from him months before.
We’ll go see my parents. They’re so anxious to meet you! She’d held his hands, squeezing them tightly, reassuring him when he’d expressed his doubts.
He twisted his lips into a bitter smile. Beth’s parents hadn’t welcomed him with open arms. Instead they’d accused him of being responsible for their daughter’s death. They were right, of course. It had been his fault. He hadn’t been there to protect her. Hadn’t been able to save her…
“Excuse us.”
Someone spoke behind him and Damien stepped further into the store to let the young couple behind him enter. Automatically he noted their appearance, years of training taking over. Mid-twenties. Hand-knitted caps. Older coats. The man had his arm wrapped around the woman’s shoulders. She was looking up at him, her eyes filled with adoration while one hand rested on her rounded belly.
A baby.
Regret sliced through him as he thought of the baby he’d never held. His child, killed along with his mate. Everything he’d ever loved had been taken from him.
Frozen in place by grief and regret, he watched the young couple as they moved down the aisle, their feet thumping gently on the old wooden floorboards. It was a small store and he could easily follow their progress. He watched the red pompom on the woman’s cap as it bobbed with every step she took. A silly bit of adornment that Beth would have loved.
“Would you like some hot apple cider?” A store clerk seemed to appear from nowhere, a steaming styrofoam cup in her hand. He studied the offering and then looked up at her. She was smiling at him, nodding encouragingly. “It’s very good.”
“Thanks.” He took the cup and drank, surprised at how the sweet liquid slid down his throat and seemed to force the coldness out of his body.
“We have cookies, too.” She extended a plate. “It’s almost closing time so take as many as you want.”
His stomach growled just then and she laughed.
“Here, take the lot of them. I doubt there’ll be any more customers with that snowstorm outside. Most people will be heading right home. No one wants to get stuck at work on Christmas Eve.”
Damien took the food she offered, befuddled by the generosity. Most places he went, his reception was anything but warm.
“Ten minutes until closing time, if I can help you with anything…?”
He shook his head and she smiled at him again before hurrying over to the cash register, where several customers were now lined up.
Taking a bite of one of the cookies, Damien glanced around, spotted the red pompom a few aisles over and headed in that direction. For some reason, he was curious about the couple, wondering what they were doing on Christmas Eve.
The young woman was lingering by a small display of jewellery. Damien busied himself at a nearby rack, trying to look interested in neckties while watching her out of the corner of his eye. She tried on a silver bracelet adorned with delicate filigree snowflakes, a smile spreading over her face as she examined how it sparkled in the light.
“Kevin, isn’t this pretty?” She called over her shoulder to the young man as he emerged from the next aisle.
He nodded, his eyes moving from the bracelet to her face. “It looks beautiful on you. Would you like—?”
But she was shaking her head even before he finished speaking. “No. We can’t afford it.”
“Maybe I could—”
“No.” She pressed her fingertips to his mouth. “We need a new vacuum. I won’t have our child crawling around on filthy floors.” Sliding the bracelet off, she returned it to the display.
The man wrapped one arm around her shoulder and gave her a hug. “One day, I’ll get a better job and I promise I’ll shower you with jewels then.”
“No need.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “You and the baby, that’s all I need to make me happy. Now come on, let’s go buy a vacuum.” Tugging at his arm, she led him away. “I hope they aren’t all sold out. It was a great price…”
Damien stepped forward and picked up the bracelet the young woman had been looking at. Holding it to the light, he watched how the snowflakes gently swayed and glistened. It was delicate and beautiful, just like Beth had been. He knew she would have loved it.
He’d never had the chance to buy her a Christmas present, but this would have been the perfect one. The metal warmed in his hand. In his mind’s eye, he imagined how he’d kiss her awake and then slide the bracelet around her wrist. She’d smile at him, her eyes sparkling with joy. Then she’d reach up, wrap her arms around his neck and pull him down onto the mattress, thanking him with sweet kisses…
“The store will be closing in five minutes. Please bring your purchases to the front. We thank you for doing your Christmas shopping with us and wish you the happiest of holidays.”
The voice on the PA system interrupted his daydream and Damien gave a start, surprised he was in the store and still had the bracelet in his hand.
He fingered the bit of silver again before nodding and heading to the cash register.
“You found something?” The clerk who had given him the cider and cookies smiled at him.
“I…” He stared at the bracelet not sure why he was buying it.
Behind him he could hear laughing. “Kevin, you are such a goof!”
“Sir?” The clerk prodded him. “Do you want a gift box for the bracelet?”
“How much are vacuums?”
If the woman was surprised by his question, she didn’t show it. “They’re on sale this week.” She quoted him the price.
“Good. I’ll buy a vacuum and this bracelet.” Damien pulled some bills out of his pocket. “This should be enough.”
“I’m sure it is.” She stared at the pile of cash and reached for the intercom. “I’ll just call for someone from the stockroom to bring a vacuum up to the front.”
“Never mind. Here comes the vacuum. And give this,” he set the bracelet down on the counter, “to her.” He jerked his chin towards where the woman with the pompom hat was emerging from the aisles, the man behind her carrying a large box with a picture of a vacuum on it.
“Oh!” The clerk looked from him to the young couple. “Do you know—”
“No.” He shook his head. “Just wish them a Merry Christmas.”
Without looking back, he left the store.
The snow was still falling when he stepped outside, but it had lost its icy sting. Now, large fat flakes floated down as gently as feathers, caressing his face, coating the world in a soft white blanket.
As he walked down the street, he could hear carols coming from a nearby church, Christmas lights shone from rooftops and trees; strange how he hadn’t noticed them earlier.
“Ho, ho ho! Merry Christmas!” A thin Santa stood on the corner, ringing a bell with a collection kettle beside him.
Damien nodded and forced his mouth into a half smile. It wasn’t as hard as he’d thought it would have been. He reached into his pocket to pull out some money to give to the man.
“Thanks.” The Santa gave him a considering look. “Would you like to join me at the Mission? We’re having a Christmas Eve dinner; turkey and all the trimmings.”
Damien studied the Santa. There was no pity or scorn on his face, just patience as he waited for an answer.
From some distance away, he heard laughter and, turning his head, he could see a man pulling a child on a sled, shrieks of excitement filling the air.
“Faster, Daddy. Faster.”
Daddy.
Those words would never be uttered to him. His child, his family, was dead. Buried in a cold grave. He’d been too late to save them. His fault.
“No.” Damien turned back to look at the Santa.
“Are you sure? There are a few spare beds if you feel inclined to wait the storm out someplace warm.”
Damien shook his head and turned away. He was a rogue, destined to spend his days roaming the world by himself. Trying to do anything else only ended up hurting others.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he hunched his shoulders against the icy cold and walked into the night alone.
Fin
Gwyneth’s Christmas by Nicky Charles
In Betrayed: Book Two – The Road to Redemption, a minor character was introduced. Her name was Gwyneth and she was the owner of Club Mystique. She reappeared in For the Good of All and then niggled my muse into writing a Christmas story for her. She’s still not satisfied and it appears that my next novel will need to centre around her if I am to ever get any peace and quiet! -- Nicky
Gwyneth managed to keep the sneer from her face as she murmured an indistinct reply to the patrons that wished her ‘Merry Christmas’. Fools, she thought as she watched them file out of her establishment singing snatches of carols. Commercial hype, that’s all the day was about.
“Want me to stay and help clean up?” Rudy, the bouncer, came to stand beside her. A wall of muscle, he was, in reality, a gentle giant.
“Thanks for the offer but I’ll take care of it. The place is closed tomorrow and I have nothing to do.”
“No family to celebrate with?” He frowned. “You could spend the day with me and my wife.”
“Rudy.” She folded her arms, brows arched in disbelief.
“Sorry. I forgot you don’t get into holidays and such.” He gave her a repentant grin.
“You’re forgiven. Head home. I’ll lock the place up.”
“Thanks, Gwyn. Have a Merry…er…have a nice night.”
Gwyneth shook her head and shut the door firmly behind the bouncer as he left. After flipping the locks and sliding the deadbolt into place, she paused to look out the window. The streets were almost deserted now. She could see Rudy walking down the sidewalk, his feet leaving footprints in the slushy snow.
Gotta love winter in the city, she thought. The white shit that fell from the sky didn’t stand a hope in hell of surviving the exhaust from a myriad of vehicles. It turned into brown slop the minute it hit the pavement. Whoever wrote about white Christmases obviously didn’t live in Chicago.
