bedeviled & beyond 06.5 - bedeviled & bah humbug (7 page)

The room smelled like an odd combination of sawdust and sugar cookies.

My senses went on overload as soon as we landed.

General tittering ensued and I remembered I was nakies. Doing the arm and hand cover thing again, I glared at Ralphy. “You could at least have let me get dressed.”

“Then we wouldn’t have had something to dream about for the rest of our days,” offered a slightly tinny, male voice.

I turned to look at the face of an elf who was ambling toward us holding a clipboard. His wide face was gristly with a sparse brown beard and his nose was bright red, upturned like his shoes. He’d eschewed the drooping, conical hat and wore a Hooters – North Pole baseball cap instead.

Classy.

Ralphy rolled his eyes. “Back off, Bob! Astra’s not some Hooter’s waitress, here to entertain you. She’s gonna help us find Santa.”

I glared down at the horny, short guy. “Bob, if you don’t turn those beady blacks in a different direction in about three seconds you’re gonna be eating that nasty hat.”

Bob’s eyebrows did a tacky little dance. “Bring it, baby. I think I can take you.”

I did a slow perusal of his three foot something form and lifted an eyebrow of my own. “The only way you’re gonna ‘take’ me is if I’m already dead.”

Bob shrugged. “If that’s the way it’s gotta be.”

A chorus of disgusted sounds lifted around us.

The scent of vanilla and sugar was suddenly infused with flowers and I felt a small, warm hand on my arm. I looked down into the rosy face of a pretty female elf. “Come on, honey. I’ll get you some clothes. I think Mx. Claus might have something to fit you.”

Having seen a recent picture of Mx. Claus I barely held back a snort. I’m sure, to the vertically challenged all us “bigs” looked the same. But I swore to myself that, if Mx Claus’s clothes fit me I was swearing off food for a month.

Never-the-less, preferring any clothing at that point to none, I hurried after the tiny female elf, whose name I later learned was Bell.

Anything to get away from Elf Bob’s leering face.

~SC~

A half hour later I stood in Santa’s office, trying to cling to the last shred of my dignity as I searched the room for an errant magic signature. Given the fact that I was swimming in one of Mama Claus’ bright red shirts with a fake white fur collar, and stuffed into a pair of Bell’s ‘fat’ pants, clinging to dignity was a tall order.

The pants were so tight at the hips they gave me muffin top, and they belled out at the bottoms. Since the bottoms only reached my knees, they looked truly ridiculous. Mx. Claus’ shirt was longer than the pants if I didn’t keep tugging it north, and the overlong sleeves were a series of puffs that ended in more fur.

I had caterpillar arms.

But the worst thing was the giant panties I’d had to borrow from Mx. Claus. They used more material than a dirigible and were bunched into the over-tight ‘belled at the knee’ trousers, giving me odd bumps in strange places.

At least the material billowing over the waistband partially obscured my muffin top.

I had just located a vaguely familiar tinge of magic when my mental drawers shuffled and a sexy, deep voice intruded on my work.

Astra? Where are you?

Dialle, my scrumptious and eminently devilish love had been slightly aloof since the recent, and by some accounts unfortunate, marking incident. In a moment of supreme passion I’d inadvertently given him a daemon hickey. Until I’d done the impossible, females on the devil’s court had been unable to mark their male mates.

Only the males could mark.

When I’d marked Dialle I’d forged new territory and shaken things up pretty good.

The males on the Royal Court were supremely pissed. Most of them wanted me dead.

The females were naturally curious. They’d taken to fixing me with speculative gazes that made me almost more nervous than the hatred from their men. I was afraid they’d ask me how I’d done it.

I had no clue.

Such was the weird science of my life.

But strained though our relationship was, Dialle needed to keep me happy because, as his queen, the health of the Devil Court rested on my happiness.

Frunkin’ ice, eh?

Hey! Believe it or not I’m at the North Pole.

He snorted a laugh in my mind.
Petitioning Santa for something other than your usual lump of coal?

I frowned, not amused by the coal thing. I mean, how many times did I have to save the world before it earned me a check in the elves’ “Nice” column? Besides, I wouldn’t give Ralphy the pleasure of begging.
No, I was dragged here by a flash mob of elves to find Santa.

He’s missing?

Kidnapped, according to the flash mob.

Your life is never boring is it, my love?

You think?

Well, at least it’s better than last year.

I had to agree with him there. Last year I’d been stuck in Hell. Even covered in glitter and cookie dust, Santa’s workshop was slightly less horrible than the fiery pits.

Well, don’t let those elves get you down. I for one hope you retain a permanent spot in the ‘naughty’ column.

His voice was filled with special meaning and its husky promise sent warmth and other things spiraling through my lower belly. I grinned, enjoying the mischievous tone of his comment.
Hold that thought, bud. And along with it, hold the knowledge that I’m wearing giant panties.

He gasped.
Be still my libido. Seriously? Describe them to me.

My lip curled.
I don’t know, they’re light pink...

He sucked air.

...there’s enough fabric here to clothe the entire Royal Court, and they have lace around the legs.

Sexy. I’m picturing you swimming around in them and, I’ll be honest, I find myself wishing you were here with me now so I could show you how very much I enjoy the visual.

I laughed.
You’re one sick puppy, Dialle.

Woof!

The sound of his voice had my own libido rearing its randy head and blinking rapidly. I’d be glad to finish my current nightmare assignment and get back to him.
I’ll be back soon.

Keep warm, my love.

I returned my attention to the aura I was sensing in Santa’s office. It seemed to be strongest around the ever-present, live Christmas tree towering in the corner. As I reached my hand toward the soft, green needles, I felt a tingling sort of power emanating from them.

It was something I’d only felt once before.

The door behind me opened and Mx. Claus squished through, bearing a large tray filled with cookies and a glass of milk that was bigger than my head. “Hello, dear! I’m so glad you came to visit.”

Her smile was wide and her small, brown eyes sparkled with mirth. I wondered at her jolly demeanor given that her spouse was missing. “Hello, Mx. Claus. I’m glad I could help.” I watched her settle the tray onto Santa’s desk. “Maybe you can help me. I was wondering if you could give me some details about Santa’s disappearance?”

The rotund woman turned to me, her dark eyes still sparkling. Each soft cheek was rouged in red, though I suspected it was natural rather than cosmetic. She shook her head. Her curly, brown hair was touched with gray. “He’s just gone off planet for a while, dear. I told Ralphy that, but he’s a black sled type of elf, Ralphy is. He sees conspiracy in everything.”

“Does Santa go off planet a lot?”

She shrugged her round shoulders, grinning. “Not every year but sometimes. When things aren’t going well in the workshop or he’s having elf troubles.” Her laughter shook her well rounded belly and set her massive boobs to jiggling. “He’s a big bear of a man, Mx. Phelps, and he overcomes an incredible amount of diversity every year to get his gifts distributed to the world, but occasionally he gets overwhelmed. And this year the Elves have been particularly troublesome. They’re demanding less work for more pay...that kind of thing. Santa keeps reminding them that they only work half the year as it is and that they live at the Workshop all year for nothing.” She shook her head. “But they’ve got a bug up their butts and won’t let it go.”

“Even if it ruins Christmas?”

“They think they have Santa over a barrel.”

I dropped my butt into the chair in front of Santa’s desk and reached for a thickly frosted sugar cookie. “Is there something different about this time? Why is Ralphy so sure Santa was kidnapped?”

Mx. Claus flipped sausage shaped fingers into the air dismissively. “Ralphy’s a worrier. Santa neglected to take his extra red suit with him this time, that’s all.”

I bit the head off my frosted reindeer and chewed thoughtfully. “Did he take anything else?” I figured if he was kidnapped he wouldn’t have taken clothing or supplies with him.

The first niggle of doubt trickled through her merry gaze. She grabbed a cookie and started to nibble. Thus the jolly figure. Apparently she was a stress eater.

I figured there was probably a
lot
of stress dealing with a flash mob dressed in pointed hats and curly shoes every day.

“No. He didn’t. But he’s perfectly capable of finding supplies on the road.”

Which reminded me. “How does he travel when he goes off planet...generally?”

“He takes one of the sleds of course. One of the smaller ones. That way he only needs to take two reindeer. He’s sensitive to tiring them out just before Christmas.”

“So two reindeer are missing, I presume?”

She shoved another cookie into her mouth and said, “Bnotsch eggaxkwy.”

I frowned. “Huh?”

Mx. Claus swallowed and swiped a thick fingertip across her crumb covered lips. “Not exactly, no.”

I just stared at her and she stared back. After a moment her bottom lip started to quiver and her eyes began to leak.

I started to panic.

Oh good Him! Not tears! I didn’t do tears and emotionally wrecked very well. In fact I totally sucked at the “there, there” thing. I was completely not compassionate. Which probably explained why I’d bludgeoned her with questions until she’d started blubbering in the first place.

I stood up and went over to pat a well-padded shoulder. “I’ll find him, Mx. Claus. Don’t cry.”

She sniffled and sobbed anew, causing me to cast my gaze hopefully toward the door. If I broke into a full out run maybe I could make it through the door and out of Santa’s workshop before the stubby legged flash mob could catch me.

I was formulating a detailed plan of escape when the door opened and Bob the randy elf stuck his head in the door. “Rudolph’s back.”

I had no idea what he was talking about but I knew an exit line when I heard it. I gave Mx. Claus another ineffectual pat on a pudgy limb and hightailed it to the door, moving as fast as my skin tight, bell-kneed pants stuffed with giant panties could take me.

CHAPTER 2

According to Bob, Rudolph had been sent out to search for Santa shortly after he was discovered missing. Though I’d never mastered the fine art of conversing with a reindeer, I quickly gathered from the crestfallen look on Ralphy’s face that Rudolph’s search hadn’t turned anything up.

Finally Ralphy turned away and ambled toward me with a face longer than his legs.

Bob led Rudolph away, toward a clean stall filled with fresh water and hay.

“What did he say?” I asked Ralphy.

He shook his head, setting his stupid cap to bouncin’. “He searched the whole area. The snowy plains, the woods, the mountains...”

“And?”

“Nothing. All he found was a set of elf prints running from the main gate into the woods.”

“Elf prints?”

He lifted his foot, showing me a curly-toed slipper. “These leave very distinctive prints in the snow.”

“I bet. So we have nothing.”

“Not exactly nothing. I’d like to know who would be heading into the woods in the middle of our busiest season.” Ralphy’s face was dark with temper.

“Is it unusual for an elf to leave the workshop?”

“On foot? Highly. Two days before Christmas? Unheard of.” He shook his head, obviously disgusted.

“Then that must be connected to Santa’s disappearance somehow.”

That deduction didn’t make Ralphy look any happier. “I really don’t want to believe this is an inside job, Astra.”

I just shrugged. It was what it was.

“There’s one more thing.”

Judging by the look on the elf’s face, I was pretty sure I didn’t want to hear what that one thing was. But I sucked it down and asked, “what?”

“Temperatures at the Pole are rising.”

“And that’s bad?”

“Very bad. If the snow starts to melt the magic dies and Christmas will be gone forever.”

“Oh. That is bad.”

Ralphy frowned. “Yes.”

I expelled breath. “Can you show me the trail of prints? I’m going to follow it and see where it ends up. If we’re lucky the culprit will be standing at the end with a guilty look on his face.”

Ralphy put his head down and headed for the door. I shuffled after him in Mx. Claus’ borrowed slippers.

~SC~

The prints were long and narrow, with a little swish mark at the front of each one where the curly bits hit the snow at the end of each step. They extended in a straight line into the woods, and they were single file.

If an elf had left the workshop and struck out for the woods, he hadn’t been walking with Santa. Or carrying him. The footprints weren’t deep enough to indicate that much weight.

Shivering in a bitter, North Pole wind, I trudged through the soft snow alongside the trail of prints. By the time I was halfway there, my ankles and feet were frozen and my teeth were clacking together. It occurred to me that I should have borrowed better clothes for my outing.

But the idea of donning a giant, red coat from Mx. Claus had been just too much for my dignity to bear.

I decided, in that moment, that dignity was highly overrated.

The snow was shallower at the edge of the woods and disappeared altogether when I entered the trees. More than that, the air felt a good twenty degrees warmer. I looked down at Ralphy. “Why is it so warm here?”