The Naughty List (19 page)

Twice in one day?

“There are children around!” he shouted upwards. Not that the Fates ever seemed to exclude children from their plans, but it was still morbid they’d planned
this
. He set the songbook down on the edge of the couch a family had claimed. The mother was holding an infant, and the strange feeling in his chest returned as he walked by them. He grabbed Hannah around the waist and pulled her to the back of the crowd.

Zeit almost stepped away from her—as he had in the past, but she knew, so there was no reason not to show her what he’d been doing all this time. He kept his arms around her and touched his face to the back of her head. She smelled sweet, like apricots, like she was dessert. Her hair was so soft.

“Mmm.” He shook his reaction off. This one week might be the worst idea he’d ever had.

Lifting his head, he snapped his fingers.

* * *

One minute she was singing
It Came upon a Midnight Clear
and the next, she had a strong pair of arms around her and a warm body behind her.

“What the…?”

And then Mr. Cowper yelled, “Whoa!” and the four-foot star tipped off the top of the tree and dropped right where Hannah had been standing a moment before. The sharp points struck into the hardwood floor with a sound like an axe splitting wood.

“Oh, my!” Mrs. Cowper said, patting her chest. “Oh, my, I’m so glad no one was there. Oh, my.”

Everyone parted as she went to retrieve the star.

Zeit’s lips brushed her ear as he leaned down and whispered, “Thirty-nine.”

She’d almost… she’d almost… Her legs gave out. She’d almost…

His arms tightened around her. “You’re okay. I’ve got you, Hannah. You’re fine.”

“Oh, my!” Mrs. Cowper said again as she had to yank harder to get the sharp spike of the star out of the floor.

Hannah leaned into Zeit as her breathing got shallower. She’d nearly been killed by a falling star. That spike would have gone right through her skull. Whoa! Spots sparkled in front of her eyes and she closed them just as Zeit picked her up, cradling her in his arms.

Then, it was silent, though she still felt Zeit holding her. She opened her eyes. They were in a dim room, and he had her on his lap while he sat in a chair. It looked like the mirror image of her room—so, probably his room.

“Better?” he asked.

Swallowing, she nodded and tried to slow her breathing. She pressed her head against his chest, needing something solid and warm. His heart beat with a deep thumping that calmed her own racing heart. She’d have guessed whatever he was—he wouldn’t have a heart. It was too normal for him to have a heart. “Is that how it’s been every time?”

His arms clutched her tight—too tight, and then he took a deep breath and loosened them. “No. Not at all.” His chin brushed against her hair as he shook his head. “I didn’t stop to think of what it must be like for you to be that near to dying. I never believed you were in danger. I
felt
like I was in control.”

“No, I mean, that’s what you saved me from? Things falling on me?”

Zeit straightened. “It’s uhh… been different.”

“What about earlier today—in Boise?”

“Snow plow.”

“Two weeks ago, on the stairs in my building?”

He took a shaky breath that rattled in his chest. “Some ass was going to swing out of the fourth floor’s door at a run and knock you down them. I should have gone back up and punched him after I’d moved you.”

“Why?”

His hand had been rubbing slow strokes down her arm, but he stopped the soothing motion. “I have no idea.” His hand drifted to the armrest.

“You moved me at Hoover Dam.”

“Yes. A van was going to slip on the road and because you were beside it, they’d overcorrect and still hit you. At least ten mortals would have died from what I could tell, maybe more, but
you
would have definitely died. I always felt like I had control of it, so it was as if it wasn’t happening. It wasn’t until you acted like you did that I… I don’t know. I thought I was in control.”

“Mortals?” He’d said mortals would have died at the dam. Did that make him… immortal? Is that what he was saying? “So, you’re an immortal? Like you can’t die?”

She heard his teeth snap against each other as he shut his mouth. He tended to clam up when she hit the truth. He only answered her questions about him if he could deny it. Sure enough, Zeit cleared his throat. “You’re fine now.” He stood up, depositing her in the seat he’d been in as he got up and went to the window. “You’re fine now,” he said again. “You can rejoin the others. I think they’re done singing.” He didn’t turn to look at her.

“Are you going back, too?” She might not go anywhere without Zeit. Twice today he’d saved her life. Twice.

“No. I feel like I may have…” He rubbed his chest.

“Are you okay?” she asked, jumping to her feet. Seeing anyone rub their chest like that thoroughly freaked her out now. She went and put her hand over his on his chest.

“No, I…” His nose wrinkled, and his forehead puckered. He was looking at her like he wasn’t quite sure what she was.

“You can’t have heart attacks, can you?” He’d used the word mortal as if he wasn’t, but she’d heard his heart beating. If he was about to have a heart attack…

“No.” Then, he looked down at his chest and dropped his hand, stepping back from her. “I’m fine. I think, I’ve stayed too long in this area. I should leave.”

She swallowed. “You’re going to leave? You’re going to leave me behind?” Hopefully, he could hear the panic in her voice. He couldn’t leave. That’d be as good as killing her.

He nodded, without looking at Hannah.

It was a sucker punch to her stomach, and she wrapped her arms around herself. This couldn’t be happening. “So, the next thing that happens will kill me?”

He didn’t respond.

She blinked rapidly to hold back tears pooling in her eyes. “Wow. I guess you weren’t kidding about not being a guardian angel.” He was running off and leaving her to die. Apparently, thirty-nine times was his limit. Maybe if she hadn’t freaked out and made such a big deal of it—but death was sort of a big deal. If he could die, maybe he’d nearly pass out from the shock of it, too. She’d almost caught a metal spike in her skull.

Hannah blinked faster. In a second, she wouldn’t be able to keep the tears in. She brushed at them and tried to calm down. Crying in front of a guy who’d written you off as too much work now that you’d actually met—wow, she had lousy luck in guys, too.

He glanced up at her, and his eyes widened before he looked away—pointedly. “You’re not
supposed
to be alive. This all happened because I chose a different mortal almost a year ago. I took another mortal’s life rather than yours.”

The heart attack. The man and the heart attack. Somehow that man took her place and left her cheating death until it finally caught up with her. If she’d already skipped out twice in one day, she wouldn’t last long. She’d be dead by this time tomorrow.

Hannah bit her lower lip. “Well, I guess that makes it all better.”

“It does?” he asked, staring.

“No! That was sarcasm!” She stomped out of his room, slamming the door. It felt so good to slam the door. Then, a blink of her eyes later, she was back in his room, and he was in front of her with his hands on her shoulders. She looked around. Whoa. That was like a funhouse trip. It was Hoover Dam all over again.

“Look. I’m not leaving. I’m staying. I just needed a moment to… think about it.”

She swallowed. “You’re staying?”

“Yes.” His hands slipped along her shoulders. He watched his right hand slide down her red sweater on her upper arm. His fingers skimmed her elbows, and it made her breath hitch.

“You’re going to keep me alive?”

His fingers had reached her wrists. “Yes.” He took her hands in his. “For better or for worse.”

“For better or for worse?”

“I meant for me—for better or for worse for me. Being alive is better for you—you’ve made that clear.”

She almost dropped his hands. “I can’t believe I had to make that clear.”

His gaze travelled up to meet hers. “Yes, well, I’m new to this whole goodwill toward men thing. That’s what they call the Christmas spirit from what I’ve gathered.”

“Mostly, we just call it human decency.”

“This experience explains a lot. About mortals, I mean.”

Sarcasm was really wasted on him. She tilted her head. “What does it explain?”

“Skydiving.” He lifted her right hand up and brushed her fist against his mouth.

The flutters inside her were like a sugar rush and almost dizzying. “Skydiving?” She would have repeated whatever he’d last said—she was
that
stunned by the contact of his soft lips whispering against her skin. He was a heart attack and a near-death experience all at once.

“Skydiving,” he said, nodding again.

Out in the hall, boisterous voices echoed as everyone returned to their rooms.

Zeit glanced toward the door. Did he realize he still had her hand pressed against his mouth? “The list said we were supposed to wear pajamas.” Every word caressed her skin.

“Uhh, yeah, for the next part of the night… where they read a story and Santa visits.” She sounded winded—like she’d run from one end of the lodge to the other. “You’re supposed to wear whatever you sleep in.”

“Huh.” A smile curved his lips—his lips against her fingers.

“You don’t wear pajamas, do you?”

“No, so this should be interesting.”

“Up until the police arrive, anyway. Maybe some sweatpants and a t-shirt, then.” It was strange to see him in normal clothes. The sweater he had on now made him look a lot less like a dark soul waiting to tempt her into the best sort of bad. She liked it, even as she didn’t.

Zeit shook his head, his eyes staring into hers. His mouth brushed her skin with each pass. “Sweatpants and jeans in one day. Next thing you know, I’ll be wearing loafers, and the world will end.”

“The world ends when you wear loafers?” He realized that very little of what he was saying made sense, right?

“Well, hell will have frozen over at the very least.”

Chapter Four

This was going worse and better than he’d ever imagined.

Also, sweatpants were comfortable. No risk of chafing there.

Hannah was sticking close to him and eyeing the star on the top of the tree as if it was waiting for a second chance at her.

The scent of her skin now reminded him of two things: one, her skin tasted like dessert, too. Even the skin on her hand tasted sweet. She was sweet all over.

Two, he could smell her so well because her body was a warm-blooded, fragile, mortal vessel that could be stolen from him if he wasn’t careful. He’d thought he was in control, but when he’d seen her reaction… he didn’t have enough control even for him.

What if he hadn’t been paying attention?

What if his father hadn’t warned him?

And the most pernicious question of all: why in the name of the Fates was he spending time with a mortal?

No, even worse, why did the thought of losing her make his chest ache as if he was able to have a heart attack? He was in quicksand and sinking fast. He hadn’t been thinking rationally anyway, but then her tears had made the quicksand tug him in up to his neck.

This was foolish. He should leave, disappear. What if further contact with her dragged him down faster? It might.

Hannah edged closer, and her back brushed his chest. She didn’t even reach his shoulder.

The red-suited mortal reading the story turned the book to show everyone the picture on that page. Huh. Weird.

“Why would reindeer fly?” he asked Hannah in a whisper.

“So Santa can reach everyone in one night.”

“How do they fly?” This book required a stretch of the mind even for fantasy.

A couple, adults the same age as Hannah, looked over their shoulder at him and smiled.

He raised his eyebrows in response. It was a reasonable question. He hesitated to guess at a reindeer’s means of propulsion.

“Magic,” Hannah whispered. She scooted back another inch. He liked her proximity—the rest of them be damned, but he liked her this close. The children weren’t too bad. They could stay, too, especially the boy up front with the curly hair who kept waving at him.

Up near the velvet armchair where the Santa imposter was seated, Mrs. Cowper was smiling at him now, too… well, him and Hannah it seemed. He wasn’t accustomed to this much scrutiny.

“Why does he bother with livestock?” Zeit asked.

“What else would pull his sleigh?”

“Why does he bother with a sleigh?” It seemed ostentatious if that book was accurate. Actually, it was all ridiculous. Flying reindeer. A red sleigh. A sack which held gifts for everyone in the world.

“He needs the sleigh to travel.”

“Why doesn’t he just access one of the planes of existence and travel instantly? He’s clearly mastered the fourth plane if he can control time travel in order to visit everyone in one night.”

The couple in front of them looked at him again—and this time they appeared confused.

He’d noticed in the halls that whenever someone looked at him, saying “Merry Christmas” was as good as asking them to stop making eye contact. “Merry Christmas.”

They murmured something and turned back around. It was a shame that probably wouldn’t work after tomorrow.

This time, it was Hannah who turned to look up at him—and he didn’t mind when she stared at him. “Is that how you do it?” she asked with a nod toward the book.

“With flying reindeer?” It surprised him so much he hadn’t whispered.

Everyone sent him scolding looks.

“Merry Christmas,” he said again, and they looked away. It was the first time he’d really believed in Christmas magic.

“No, that whole thing about planes of existence.” Hannah had a wrinkle between her eyebrows, and her mouth was all puckered up.

His chest burned again, but it didn’t bother him as much as it had the other times. Lifting his hand, he brushed a finger down her forehead, smoothing that crease between her eyebrows. It made her skin flush pink. “Yes. It’s more practical. And you don’t have to clean up after animals.”