Blizzard of Heat (5 page)

He leaned up on both arms. “You want me to go out in the storm?”

“I need you to talk for me. I can get those in need to hospitals, to homes, to work in emergency services, and I can do it all without being seen, but only this one night. Only when the blizzard will hide me.”

He got off her and helped her to her feet. “You are serious.”

“I am very serious. If the streets are impassable, women in labour can’t get to hospital, folks having heart attacks and emergency services people need to get to a place where they can do some good.”

“How will you find them?”

She rubbed her head. “I can hear them. I can hear them all. I need to help them, and I need you to help me.”

He sighed. “Let me wash up and get some clothing. If we are dressing as the spirits of winter, I need to get into something more appropriate than a tux.”

“You do that. Where is the bathroom? I feel a little sticky.” She wrinkled her nose.

He moved and swept her into his arms, and he carried her up the stairs to his bedroom and the ensuite bath. A dampened cloth took the semen and spots of blood from between her thighs.

She sat on the edge of his bed and waited, grinning as he came out in a white tunic, blue hood, black leggings and boots. “Oh, perfect.”

“I am ready if you are. Do you wish to leave from the roof or the front door?”

“Oh, the roof. There is nothing like a flying takeoff.”

The voices in her mind were wild, but she had heard them before. She would get to them all, or at least as many as she could while the storm raged.

Cwen was unable to speak, but she carried Tyr to one stranded car after another. They attended accidents, women in labour, heart attack victims, brought stunned hospital workers in to where they could relieve those who had already been on duty too long.

Cwen ran all night and into the morning until the whipping winds eased up. With the blizzard clearing, she ran back to Tyr’s home and the rooftop from which she had first taken off.

Tyr dismounted, and she changed back into human form, walking through the doorway with a swing in her step.

“Aren’t you exhausted?”

“One night in a blizzard is nothing. I am used to a bit more of a workout, and it is usually under severely urgent circumstances. This was a light jog.” She smiled and swayed.

“You are tired.”

“Of course I am tired. I have just enough time to get a full day’s sleep before I have to head home.”

“You will sleep for a day?”

“Yeah, sorry. I will be up tomorrow morning and ready to head home shortly after.”

“That is early.”

“There is nothing else for me to do here.”

Tyr wrapped his arms around her. “Stay with me until the twenty-third. I promise to make it worth your while. There is a lot in the human world that you haven’t seen.”

She chuckled. “This city is locked in snow. Nothing will be open before it is time to leave.”

“In that case, we can spend the time in bed, watching movies and cuddling. Either way, it is not something you have had access to at home.”

She yawned. “Okay. You know the deadline as much as I do.”

“I do, and I know you would stomp me into goo if I made you miss it. Relax and rest. You have earned it.”

She entered his bedroom and crawled into his bed, tucking herself between the sheets. “We leave on the twenty-third.”

“Guaranteed, now sleep, Cupid. You had a helluva night.”

As she prepared to leave, Cupid couldn’t stop grinning. All those people that she had retrieved and helped were talking about being rescued by one of the reindeer and an elf. It was sending people into a frenzy of donating to holiday charities and soup kitchens.

Cupid removed her snowflake, and she returned it to the box. Tyr put it with all the other stuff she was bringing back, including a selection of cookbooks. If he was going to ride, he was going to carry cargo.

She kissed him one last time. “Okay, see you at the workshop.”

He kissed her back. “Things are going to change, Cupid. If they don’t, I will sneak into the archive and we can run away for another year.”

“I will hold you to that. I have always wanted to see Antarctica.”

“I have heard that they don’t want tourists. They leave foot prints in the ancient moss.”

She grinned. “Who says that I will land?”

She settled her collar around her neck and shifted into her four-hoofed form. It was time for the flight home.

Her Christmas spirit was back and actually at an all-time high. It might just have something to do with the rider settling on her back, or it might have to do with interacting with humans. She had an entire year to analyze why. For now, it was time to take to the skies.

Six down and three to go. I hope you have been enjoying them, because they have been fun to write. I like Christmas, solstice, yule and whatever else is celebrated during the dark of winter. Making it fun for others makes it fun for me.

Thanks for reading,

Viola Grace

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Viola Grace (aka Zenina Masters) is a Canadian sci-fi/paranormal romance writer with ambitions to keep writing for the rest of her life. She specializes in short stories because the thrill of discovery, of all those firsts, is what keeps her writing.

An artist who enjoys a story that catches you up, whirls you around and sets you down with a smile on your face is all she endeavours to be. She prefers to leave the drama to those who are better suited to it, she always goes for the cheap laugh.