Yuletide (Matilda Kavanagh Novels Book 3) (11 page)

Chapter 12

Christmas Eve Eve was the night when I should be passing out the last of my gifts, gorging on pie and eggnog, and watching my cat play with leftover ribbon while Claymation movies renewed my faith in humanity. Instead, I was in my bathroom, slipping on charmed silver bracelets and watching my face contort as glamours settled over my body. Artemis sat in the doorway, his black triangle ears twitching as he watched.

My nose stretched and flattened until it resembled the flat nose of a doe. Soft, downy white fur tinged with powder blue flowed around the edges of my face. My eyes widened, and my blue irises melted to deepest black, reflecting the light over my mirror. Delicate horns pushed through my hair, giving me a small headache as they twisted like gothic black-and-blue candy canes until they reached four inches and arched backward. One more bracelet made my short black hair grow and shift until it tumbled past my shoulders in a wash of turquoise.

Examining myself in the mirror, I was satisfied that I was well and truly unrecognizable. At least losing all that sleep had been worth it. When I turned to leave the bathroom, I stopped short at the sight of Artemis. He was still staring at me, his fluffy head tilted.

“What? No good?” I looked over my shoulder to check the mirror again.

“Mrrrow,” he said, then stood, turned his back on me, and flicked his tail before sauntering away to hide under the bed.

“C’mon,” I called, “I don’t look that bad. Whatever.”

I ignored him and went about getting dressed. We had decided on glamours and costumes for two reasons. The first was to hide ourselves in case Krampus did show up and recognize me from the other night. The second was to blend in, because the Krampus Rumpus was supposed to be a spectacle ten times more impressive than the concert had been.

Joey had brought over a few pieces of clothing to help me put together a “suitable outfit” as she’d called it. She went through my closet, pulling out pieces of clothing she approved, and graciously allowed me to put my own outfit together, but only if I did so with the approved items. I stood over my bed, my robe wrapped around my body, and stared at the assortment. It looked more like I was about to get ready for a Halloween party than a Yuletide celebration. Blowing out a breath, I undid my robe and got dressed.

I went with a pair of black fleece-lined leggings and fastened a black-and-blue bustle around my waist so that the alternating ruffles hung down over my rump—the leggings were mine and the bustle was Joey’s. I dug out a white blouse that Joey had approved and pulled it on, buttoning it over a beige chemise. I never wore the blouse because the ruffled collar was a little over the top for me, and it opened wide, showing a little more cleavage than I was generally comfortable with. It seemed to go with the persona I was creating, though. I pulled on a black blazer that was cut high in the back with longer points in the front. It would highlight my decorative bustle quite nicely. The lapels fit under the ruffled collar of my shirt.

When I examined myself in the mirror, I thought I looked like a gothic equestrian rider or a nightmare circus ring leader. All I was missing was a top hat and riding crop. I glanced at the pile of clothes and wondered if Joey had brought either of those, and a laugh bubbled out of me. Just as I was pulling on my knee-high, flat-soled boots, there was a knock at the door. I hurried out of the bedroom to answer the door.

A crowd waited for me on the other side. When I opened the door, I was greeted with gasps of surprise, mild laughter, and someone clapping.

“You. Look. Awesome!” Joey said as she bounded inside, taking my hands and spinning me around.

The faces of Ronnie, Spencer, Kyle, and Frankie swirled by me. I pulled my hands out of Joey’s grip and twirled to a stop, keeping my eyes closed until the room stopped spinning. When I opened my eyes again, Joey had her phone out. The flash went off, taking my picture by surprise.

“For the love of toads, Joey,” I said.

She smiled at me, a bright cheesy smile, and I found myself smiling back. She snapped another picture. The flash made me blink, and I closed my eyes against the swirling spots.

“I am not wearing horns,” Kyle said with a crooked smile.

“No,” I said, opening my eyes, grateful to find the room blessedly still. “The doe look wouldn’t work for you.”

Everyone was already dressed for the Rumpus. They just needed their glamours.

“I want horns!” Joey said, clapping and jumping. Bright pink sparkles fell from her, winking out of existence on my wood floor.

“Okay,” I said. “C’mon, ladies first.”

Ronnie, Joey, and Frankie followed me to my kitchen table. Spencer and Kyle waited on the couch, the lights of my tiny tree flickering across their faces.

I started with Ronnie, slipping one bracelet on her slim wrist at a time. First her ropey orange hair shifted to a cascade of snow white, like icicles that brushed her shoulders with a fringe falling over her forehead. Then the same soft fur, like downy feathers, coated her face. Her freckles became soft, dappled brown spots in her fur. The last two bracelets flattened her nose and widened her eyes, but I made sure she kept her rich brown irises to complement her snowy look. Two golden horns pressed out of the top of her head, breaking through her white hair.

Ronnie hissed and squeezed her eyes shut as the horns formed. Hers were shorter than mine, stopping at two inches, but it fit her look. She’d gone with gold, white, and brown. Brown riding boots laced up to her knees, brown slacks tucked into the boots, and a white blouse covered by a gold vest that laced up like a bodice, accentuating her delicate curves. The high collar came up around her jawline. When I was done, Joey was ready with her camera, getting pictures of Ronnie by herself and with me.

Joey got the same number of bracelets, but her color scheme was purple and black. Her sparkly, purple horns were the tallest, jutting out of her punk-rock black hair a good five inches and twisting like pulled taffy. Her ruffled bustle fell all the way to the ground, but her boots were short. She looked like a Victorian lady that had been spelled by a lusty nymph, and she couldn’t be happier.

She held out her phone and started taking selfies: scowling, then smiling, then puckering her lips like a duck. She rushed over and made us take pictures with her. Frankie even helped her by taking pictures of all three of us together.

“Tweeting!” Joey sang. “And it’s going on the page, right now!”

I laughed, then turned my attention to Frankie, my smile faltering a little. But she nodded and managed to keep from looking angry, making me feel better about approaching her. I was a little more discreet with Frankie, who wasn’t happy about the doe glamours. She would have been happier just shifting into her wolf form and tearing Krampus to bits, but if we did that, we’d never find the missing children. Frankie had a more natural color scheme of brown and white without any crazy metallic highlights. Even her horns were short and brown.

Kyle and Spencer looked a little uncomfortable when I came to them with their bracelets, but they were already decked out in leather and wool, so they handed over their wrists willingly. Even without horns they looked a little more demonic than we did. Their wide, dark eyes suited their faces, which somehow looked more wolfish than stag-like. I left the tone of their skin and hair alone, making them look like mirror opposites of each other.

“Creepy,” Joey said approvingly as she watched their transformations. She held out her phone and took at least a dozen pictures of the Weres from different angles before tapping away faster than my eyes could track.

“Everyone happy?” I asked, not really expecting an answer. “Then let’s get this show on the road.”

“Wait,” Ronnie said, rushing forward to dig into Spencer’s coat pocket. “I made these for everyone.” She passed out small silver rings that only fit on everyone’s pinkie fingers.

“What are these for?” I asked as I slipped on the ring, feeling the zing of the charm laid into the metal.

“If we get separated, we can use these to communicate with each other,” she said, helping Spencer put on his. “You just concentrate on the ring and who you want to reach, and the other person will know right where you are.”

“Awesome.” Joey held out her hand to admire the simple charm.

“Good, and I have these.” I dug into a black velvet bag and pulled out a handful of chains. They were thin and deceptive. The charm inside them made them indestructible and dampened the magic of anyone bound by them.

“What? Like the collars?” Frankie asked. The rumble in her voice sent a chill up my spine.

“Not exactly,” I said, not meeting her stare. “But we need something if we catch him and the police can’t get to him in time.”

Frankie muttered something, but she put the chain in a pocket like everyone else, so I breathed easily again. But I felt the shift in emotion around me. I tugged on my jacket and led the way out, not wanting to focus on their accusatory stares.

***

Getting to the venue was harder than we anticipated. We all piled into the van Kyle had borrowed from Jameson. It was strange for our motley crew to pile into such a suburban vehicle, but we didn’t want to catch our horns or hems on anything, and it let me put some comfortable distance between Frankie and me. I felt as if those blasted chains had done some damage to the connection we’d made the other night, but I didn’t know what else to do if we were going to face a damn demigod.

The line of cars formed blocks away from the venue. Crowds of people flowed down the sidewalks and dodged in and out of cars, making our progression that much slower. As we crept along, police barricades popped up, blocking traffic from side streets. Cars were forced to turn around so they couldn’t cut into the procession and cause an even worse backup. We heard a whoop and holler, followed by the sound of breaking glass. By the time we figured out where the ruckus came from, a half-dressed man was being arrested while his date sobbed drunkenly on the curb.

“This is gonna be interesting,” Ronnie said, her breath fogging up the window as she pressed her face too close to the cool glass.

Joey bounced in the back. She was desperately trying to take pictures through the windows. “It’s gonna be awesome!”

“Probably just gonna be like a concert,” Kyle said, turning to follow the flashlight directions of the cop ahead of him. “Just watch where you step.”

I crinkled my nose, but at least my boots would keep my feet protected. When we found a parking space, we piled out of the van.

I passed out the bracelets Courtney had given me. “Just be careful.”

Everyone nodded, and we headed for the theater. We melded into the flow of people headed for the entrance. I grabbed Joey’s hand to keep tabs on her and so that we were all evenly paired off. She was so excited to get inside that she tugged on my arm until I was afraid she’d pull it out of the socket.

People were selling T-shirts with Krampus’s leering face on the front and
Gruß vom Krampus
scrawled on the back. There were posters for sale and food stalls. A beer garden off to one side of the ticket booth was closed with
“
Sold Out
”
signs slapped over the shutters.

There was a guy dressed up as Santa Claus, but he was too skinny, his beard hung off his face, and his white fur trim was dingy. He sat in a folding chair with a sign next to him saying
“Free pictures with Santa.” The only people he seemed interested in were pretty girls, and his pants were loose enough to prove just what a creeper he was. I laughed when a girl swung her purse at him and scored a hit to his face.

The words that came out of “Santa’s” mouth were more appropriate for Krampus. The girl and her friends flipped him off and went running through the crowd. I felt snaps of power at my fingertips itching to be released and really give that guy something to complain about. But Ronnie pushed me forward, and I lost sight of the creepy letch. I just hoped that girl had something heavy in her purse and gave him a black eye or a broken tooth.

It took us almost an hour to get through the line, the metal and hex detectors, and into the theater. There had to be five hundred people inside, if not more. The air was warm and heavy with so many bodies. Music thundered through the space, pressing at my ears and deafening me. A band I didn’t know with a female singer belting out the lyrics of their song was on stage. She was a tiny waif, but her voice struck me in the core. I saw phones everywhere as people took pictures and recorded videos of the audience and the band.

I was pushed from behind and realized I’d stopped walking. Joey gave my arm another tug, so I stumbled forward, catching up with our group. Joey danced in place, swinging her hips and lifting her arms above her head. The rest of us looked sorely out of place. The room was both too dark and too bright, and I felt about a hundred years old. I wanted to tell someone to turn down the racket.

“I think we should spread out,” Ronnie screamed into my ear so that I could hear her.

I nodded. In pairs of two, we broke apart. Ronnie and Spencer went to the back of the theater where a bar had been set up. Frankie and Kyle headed up to the balcony so they could get a higher vantage point. Unfortunately for me, Joey grabbed my aching arm and dragged me farther into the mass of bodies in front of the stage.

Before long, sweat had broken out at the small of my back and under my newly long hair. I dabbed at my upper lip with the cuff of my sleeve as Joey undulated around me, never missing a beat even as the bands alternated on stage. Someone turned on a fog machine, making the air even heavier, but at least a little cooler. Strobe lights cut through the darkness and turned the fog different colors. My head ached under the pressure of my horns. Every time Joey flashed me her bright smile, I felt like a spoilsport and tried to get into the swing of things.