Freak Sorority

By Stephanie Beck

The world is cruel for a female on her own, so the members of the Freak Sorority watch out for one another. Holiday themed, romantic short stories, Freak Sorority Shorts are mini-looks into the world of a few supernatural best friends and the men they love.

Free and exclusively here or at http://www.facebook.com/StephanieBeckAuthor

 

To meet the Freaks from the very start, head to the bottom of this page and read your way up to the most recent stories!

                                  

Meet the new Freak Sister!

Merry Wendlebottom 

 

Merry jumped the curb and dodged a bee as she ran for the coffee shop. Already twenty minutes late for her shift, the running wouldn’t help with the tardiness, but it would give her a head start against the bugaboo chasing her. She wasn’t sure what the hell it was but she’d caught scent of the paranormal thing right as it caught scent of her.

Back home in Kansas she’d known the paranormals in her area and if a new one came to town her family had her back. Here in the big bad hugeness of New York City, she didn’t have the support she’d grown up with, but even hours of studying and eating too many fatty foods hadn’t slowed the speed she’d gained after years of chasing her brothers.

She slammed into the coffeehouse door and swore when she found it locked. She looked through the glass window, cursing again. The local mini-coven of paranormal chicks occupied the front and they’d used their voodoo to lock things up tight. Merry took a step back and pulled out her string. She did most of her magic with potions and kitchen spells, but in a pinch she knew a few things for emergencies. The bugaboo following her turned the block just as Merry whispered her spell and opened the door.

The four women turned as one, surprise on each of their striking faces. Merry had waited on them before and knew their little games, but didn’t have time to play along.

“Ah, what the hell are you doing?” the foulmouthed brunette named Pammy asked.

Merry tossed her bag on one of the many open tables and ran behind the counter. The barista on shift stood back in a daze, most likely caused by the mini-coven chicks. Merry had played dumb and listened in on their conversation for a few months. They called themselves the Freak Sorority, whatever the heck that meant. She didn’t care as long as they stayed out of her way.

She grabbed bottles of spices and syrups, and a big cup. The pour nozzle made the pouring too slow, so she tore off the tops and dumped peppermint syrup in along with licorice flavoring. Mint and anise were strong protective herbs. In the syrup form they weren’t as potent, but she hoped they helped. She tossed aside the bottles and grabbed a shaker full of cinnamon sugar and another of cloves. The toppers were fragrant and better quality than the syrups, but to incorporate them, she had to put a cap on the cup and shake like crazy.

The four women at their table stood and walked toward the counter, watching her curiously. Merry kept one eye on the window and the second the bugaboo appeared, innocent enough looking in jeans and a pink sweater, she grabbed the cup and then launched over the counter.

The youngish looking woman pushed the door open, a sinister smile on her otherwise moderately attractive face. A lone witch was usually easy prey, but Merry had no intention of being a snack.

“Kitchen Witch? Oh, Kitchen Witch!”

The four paranormal women spun around to face the threat, but Merry was ready. She threw the minty potion at the threatening woman and dodged the clawed hand that reached for her when Merry got too close.

Merry tossed the last of the potion on the creature and held her hands out in front of her. “I wish you well, my scary friend, but today is not my day to end. Go in peace. Return to your home. Leave us here in New York alone.”

The blonde shook and stumbled back obviously fighting the magic. Merry tried not to panic, but looked at the barista station for something more to throw at the creature. Salt and pepper shakers caught her eye and she grabbed the salt.

“Crappy rhyme,” Pammy said and pulled out a knife far too large to have fit on her body comfortably. “We’ve got this one, Kitchen Witch.”

Merry grabbed the salt, opened the cap and threw it on the creature. She didn’t want Pammy to use the knife and end the creature’s life. The karma involved in killing was simply too harsh.

“My friend, be gone before things go wrong. Your head will roll if you don’t stroll.”

The creature screamed and threw itself out the glass door. Smoke billowed and a moment later it disappeared.

Merry’s heart raced as she caught her breath. The creature wasn’t the first she’d battled since arriving in New York City to attend college, and it wouldn’t be her last. If the damn things would leave her alone, she might actually be able to concentrate enough to pass a class or two.

The pretty blonde with fantastic shoes stepped in front of Merry and smiled. “Well, well, well, I knew you were special.”

Merry stepped away from the shards of glass and headed for the closet where they kept the cleaning supplies. “I apologize for the inconvenience. Let me clean this up and I’ll get you fresh drinks.”

The blonde stepped with her and didn’t let her pass. She offered her hand. “I’m Sara Angel-Raven, head sister of the Freak Sorority. Are you a kitchen witch?”

“Of course she is,” Pammy said. “I should have known she was. I can smell her stank from here.”

Merry bristled. “Stank? Really?”

“You know what I mean. Basil, garlic, mint—all that junk put together. I thought it was just the coffee shop, but it’s you.”

The early spring chill blew through the busted window. Merry considered her options. She could discuss her kitchen witch abilities with the women who had ignored her for months. Or she could clean up the glass, call her boss and convince him not to fire her. Option number three, going home and crawling under her bed with a box of chocolate sounded best.

“Earth to Kitchen Witch.” Pammy snapped her fingers in front of Merry’s face.

Merry grabbed Pammy’s fingers and used the momentum to spin the irritating woman in a circle, slamming her onto the hardwood floor. Killing brought bad things, putting idiots in their places only brought peace.

The voluptuous redhead Merry had learned was a succubus during one of the Freaks’ many conversations clapped her hands and grinned. “You and I are going to be best friends, Kitchen Witch. I’m Rachel and I’ll be your sponsor for Freak Sorority.”

Merry let loose of Pammy’s hand and headed for the closet. “I’ve got work to do.”

She grabbed the broom and turned to find the four women lined up together, three of them smiling, one of them scowling.

“What’s your name?” Sara asked.

Merry leaned against the broom. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” Rachel said. “Like I said, you and I are going to be best friends. Anyone who can take down Pammy like that gets two thumbs up in the succubus’ world.”

“Rachel you are such a snot.” Pammy turned to her and poked her shoulder. “The witch will never get me again, guaranteed.”

Merry’s first instinct was to smack Pammy with the broom, but she held back. Once was plenty.

“My name is Merry and I really need to get this cleaned up.”

Sara waved her hand and the glass flew back to its place as if it had never been broken. “As I said, I’m Sara Angel and I’m the head of the Freak Sorority. We haven’t had a new member in ages. Katie was the last.”

The quietest member of the group waved. She had the earthy scent of an animal, but had never indulged in any animalistic behaviors. “I’m Katie, resident werewolf of the Freak Sorority. I’ll sponsor you too. I haven’t seen Pammy get hit that hard ever.”

“Shut up,” Pammy said. “It was luck. Didn’t I just kill a demon yesterday? A scrawny kitchen witch is nothing compared to a freaking demon.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t count. You hit it with your truck. Any idiot can hit a demon with a half ton pickup.”

Merry put the broom away and stepped around the women. “I’m not interested.”

They turned and started arguing, but she shook her head. She didn’t know enough about the women to want to spend more time with them. She had enough on her plate without adding a group of high maintenance chicks sticking their noses in her business.

“Membership comes with tons of perks,” Sara said. “Tuition, housing, meals, tutoring.”

“You’re not serious,” Merry said, though the list caught her attention. She could use help with all of those things.

“Of course I’m serious,” Sara replied. “I’m loaded, Katie lives two blocks from NYU, Pammy is a great cook and Rachel, for her slutty succubus ways, is brilliant.”

“And what would you get out of it?” Merry couldn’t believe she was actually considering the offer, but she was sick to death of failing at something she should have been great at. She was smart and had dreamed of being the first in her family to get a college degree. If not for the life complications involved in attending school, she’d do fine.

“We get to see Pammy wince every time you walk by,” Rachel said and elbowed Pammy.

“Shut up.” Pammy elbowed her back. “We all take what we need from this sorority thing, but if you’re interested you become one with the sisterhood. You care, you help and you watch our backs. We’ll do the same.”

Back home she had three older brothers, but she was the first girl born in three generations in her father’s family. That had led her to being spoiled and pampered. She’d always wanted a sister and looking at each of the faces before her, she saw potential.

Smoke billowed suddenly from the door and a horrible cackle ensued. The creature who she’d hoped had vanished reappeared, no longer even remotely human in appearance. Puss and blood spewed from her mouth and ears. It laughed again and made eye contact.

Merry froze, but the Freak Sorority sisters stepped up. The knife Merry had shunned earlier appeared again in Pammy’s hand.

When the creature launched toward Merry, she cowered and ducked, reaching for her string, but the thing never reached her. Pammy swung her knife just as Katie transformed into her wolf and dove for the creature’s knees. The unmistakable swell of magic rocked the room and finally a portal opened on the floor.

Merry scurried away from the swirling hole as the older women circled it.

“See?” Sara said. “We each can handle ourselves, but working together is so much better. Pammy, throw her down, will you?”

Pammy rocked her knife, the creature forked on it and twitching. “I hate throwing them back alive, but I want this one to let the other demons know that if they mess with the new Freak sister, they mess with me."

The creature narrowed its eyes and growled, but Pammy just threw it down the hole. A moment later, the floor returned to normal and the swirling crazy ebbed. Merry slowly pushed to her feet, keeping her distance from where the hole had been. She’d never witnessed such magic, such strength, such teamwork.

“So,” Sara said. “Whaddaya think? Do you want to keep fighting the baddies all by yourself or would you like to join the club? I like your vibe. You’d be a good fit.”

Merry looked to each of the women with a new respect. They’d put their lives on the line for her and they barely knew her. Pammy flicked green sludgy demon blood from her shoulder and shrugged.

“I’m not going to beg, but if you want to join us, hurry the hell up and say so. I’ve got junk to do that doesn’t involve hanging out in a crappy coffee shop all day."

“If it’s so crappy why do you keep coming back?” she snapped.

Pammy rolled her eyes. “It’s close and I’m lazy.”

“That’s true.” Katie, back to her human form smiled. “What do you say?”

All but Pammy smiled, but even she looked pleasant enough. What did she really have to lose?

“All right. I’m in.”

 

 

 

 

Sneak Peek At Cross-stitch and Brimstone

The cat hissed again, and Beth sighed. "Fine, I'll let you out, you stinking beast," she muttered, going to the side door that released to the wraparound porch she loved. "Go on now, and don't you— Who's there?"

 The figure at her front door, only three feet away from her, froze. It was the middle of the night, so she'd long ago turned off the porch light. Terror welled. Her longevity was a given, but she was still as easily broken as any human woman under five feet tall and just as susceptible to villains of the night.

"Elisabeth?"

The figure turned with her name on his lips. That voice. It sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it. She flipped on the light switch for the hall behind her, but it didn't help much, not until he came into the light.

"Marcato? But...how...how?"

She ran for him, the three steps taking only a heartbeat before she launched into his arms. He felt just the same as when she'd given him one final embrace before he'd gone off to fight with his brothers so long ago. How she'd loved her soldier boy, though before the war he'd been sweet and gentle, a young man on his way to the seminary to be a preacher.

She ran her fingers down his face, the same face she remembered in her dreams. Not so often anymore, but there was no way she could have forgotten about him. Not him.

 

Freak Sorority Fun Facts 

*Four Freak Sisters: Sara, Pammy, Katie, and Rachel

*Four Brotherhood Members (AKA Freak sister boy toys): James, Pete, Sam, Nick (aka Santa Claus)

*Pammy is the only human member of the sorority

*Pete is the only human member of the brotherhood

*Created by Sara Angel in 1963

*Official Song: "Hey There Little Red Ridinghood"

*Official Flower: Red Roses (the expensive kind, not the ones from the gas station)

*The next generation of sisters was born July 29th to Sara and James (Ivy Pamela Angel-Raven)

 

 

 

 

The harpist was ready. Who the hell had decided they need a freaking harpist? Pammy rolled her shoulders and forced herself to relax. Bricker’s mother had wanted the harpist, and the perfectly nice musician was a friend of a friend who needed the work. There was no sense in being pissy about it now that the guests were being ushered in by a few of Pete’s younger cousins.

All the family was giving her hives.

“Get that ‘run like hell’ look off your face right now.”

Sara, Rachel and Katie hadn’t exactly snuck up on her, but Pammy was happy ignoring them for the moment too. They all wore variations of fall colors in their dresses. She’d requested the color scheme and told them to go with it. Katie looked the most appropriate, but Rachel and Sara had taken the stripper/prostitute approach. With Sara, she could understand the desire to show off her rocking post-baby body, but Rachel just did it because she was a stinking succubus and her usual lust fix was busy getting millions of toys ready for the children at Christmas. They weren’t even sure if Nick would make it for the wedding, though he’d promised Bricker to make an appearance.

“I’ve never run from anything you twits, and all three of you know it.” She checked the mirror in the church’s hall. Her boobs looked flat so she did a little bend and wiggle until they were back to perky. “I’m just looking forward to getting all this crap done so I can go get Bricker drunk and have the band play the Electric Slide.”

The Freak Sorority girls shared a smirk. Bricker was their favorite patsy and the best natured one a group could ask for. They all adored him, but his humanness was something they all enjoyed immensely.

“Good plan,” Katie said, handing over a tube of lip gloss. “Sam brought good tequila when he heard your soon to be mother-in-law had handled the reception. Beer is fine, but seriously, an occasion like this calls for liquor.”

“Amen,” Rachel added. “I mean, Pammy the demon hunter is getting married to a mortal grocery clerk—if that doesn’t scream alcohol, I don’t know what does.”

“Oh shut up,” Pammy muttered, but she could definitely use some liquor. Of course, recent stick-peeing made that desire a no-no, so she was doing this stone-sober. “What the hell are we waiting for?”

“Your guests are still being seated,” Sara said calmly, the most even keeled of them all at the moment. “James, Sam and Nick will be here any minute for the procession and then you’ll do your walk and bam, done. Now, just relax and visualize what life with Pete is going to be. I just know you two are going to be happy for a very, very long time.”

Sara, earth Angel and all things positive, except when she turned into super bitch, was right. Things were going to be great. She loved Pete, loved how she felt when she was with him and getting married was exactly what she wanted to do. She just wasn’t sure about everything else. How did one balance demon hunting with motherhood? Sara seemed to handle being an earth Angel and baby Ivy just fine, but earth Angels didn’t often get into fights with biting evil demons bent on world domination or at least on minor destruction. That baby backpack carrier thing was nifty, but didn’t seem practical in a fight.

“All right, girls. Get your guys and line up.”

In her life, Pammy had been grateful for her father many times, but this one was probably the most. He stood, short and handsome in his tux and incredibly, her Freak Sisters listened, each giving her a quick hug before they hurried around the corner. The music had changed and drops of sweat beaded at Pammy’s forehead.

“Now, you just calm down, young lady,” her father ordered, taking her by the arm. “Keep breathing and for the love all things holy, don’t throw up in that dress.”

“It was too damn expensive for me to even consider it,” Pammy said, though a few deep breaths did sound like a great idea. “Dad, I’m fine. I just need to get this crap over with.”

He chuckled. “Just like your mother. When she was pregnant with you she was the most impatient person I’d ever known. After you were born it was like her supply was endless, but man, those early days were rough if we had to wait.”

Pammy froze. She hadn’t told anyone and had been careful to use the Demon Hunters Guild’s patented odor masking mist to keep it a secret through the wedding.

“Well now, you didn’t think that would work against your father did you?” he asked, even though she hadn’t said anything. “I invented that scent stuff and more than that, I raised you. I know when things change and I couldn’t be happier for you and Pete. I just hadn’t thought about how many memories all this would bring back for me.”

“I’m sorry, Dad. I don’t want to make you sad or anything.”

He shook his head and led her to a bench. The music was still in procession mode so she relaxed for a moment. “Don’t you worry about that Pammy. Your mom and I had lots of good times. Lots of them and I don’t mind remembering them one bit. When I married your mom, I was ready to give up the demon hunting business. It was in my blood, but it didn’t seem so important anymore and well, I was getting burnt out. Then she told me she was pregnant with you and suddenly, keeping the world safe was what was important. The world had to be safer so you could grow and be whatever you wanted to be. After she died…well, I had more choices, but looking at you today, I know I made the right ones.”

“You bet your ass you did,” she said and grinned. She’d had so much fun with her dad growing up. He was her best friend long before Bricker and the Freak Sorority got hold of her. “I’m just worried, I guess. I plan to keep working, just…don’t know what to do with this baby. Ivy has trained me in on diapers and teething and all that, but what about everything else?”

“Pammy, we’re almost ready for you!”

Her dad smiled. “That’s how you’re going to handle everything else. Pete’s mom is everything you could ask for in a grandmother. She was just telling me how much she looked forward to the two of you having kids. That’s one woman who could face down a legion of demons with a baby on her hip and come out unscathed. And don’t forget about the Guild. We watch out for our own. Between those things and your Freak girls, you’re going to have more help than you know what to do with.”

She should have known her father would be the voice of reason. He had been for most of her life and when he placed her hand on his forearm and drew her closer to the door, she was happy to follow.  Sara, Rachel and Katie were already down the aisle and Pete’s nieces were making the long walk down as well.

“There you are.” Marsha, Pete’s mother, had a fine sheen of sweat on her brow despite the fall cool in the air. She’d been working harder than anyone in the last six months to make sure the wedding went off without a hitch. Pammy figured the older woman had seen her future daughter-in-law wasn’t exactly the wedding type and had done everything to prevent disaster.

“We’re all ready to go, Marsha.” There was a touch of strain in her father’s voice, a rare sign of emotion and Pammy squeezed his arm.

“Well, the two of you look just wonderful. That dress, Pammy, it’s just beautiful. My Petie is a lucky, lucky man. Now, just let me straighten out that veil and you’ll be ready for your stroll.”

Pammy bent at the waist so the shorter woman could help and for the first time Pammy thought she might cry. It was really happening. She was getting married. She was going to be a mother in only months and her family would forever be changed.

“Thanks, Marsha. Thanks for everything.”

The other woman had tears in her eyes as she gave Pammy a final brush across the side of her dress. “Well, you’re welcome dear. I’m just so happy Petie found you. Now that everything is ready, I’m going to take a seat and help Frank with baby Ivy; my dear husband is just hopeless with babies sometimes. You can handle this last part just fine.”

The music changed after Marsha hurried to her seat beside Pete’s father and siblings. Pammy stepped just short of the door and took a deep breath. Beside her was the man who had raised her and he would soon walk her to the man she’d spend the rest of her life with. It really was the biggest day of her life.

“Pammy honey? That’s our cue.”

Her feet wouldn’t move. She wasn’t afraid, she wasn’t upset; she just couldn’t make herself move.

“Oh hell,” her father muttered and pulled out his phone. “We thought this might happen.”

Who thought?

 A moment later Pammy was surrounded by her Freak sisters. Sara looped her arm through the one not holding onto her father. Rachel straightened the front hem of her gown and stood beside Sara.

“Now,” Sara said very calmly, her happy tone breaking Pammy out of her sudden clam-up. “We’re going to walk you down the aisle to the man you love and if you even stutter step, Katie is going to kick you in the ass. Right Katie?”

“Oh I’m all over this.” Katie stood behind her, also fussing with the hem, but Pammy didn’t doubt the werewolf’s eagerness to boot her in the backside if the opportunity arose.

“Are we ready now ladies?” her father asked.

Pammy looked around her and finally stepped to the door where she saw Bricker standing at the top of the aisle beside the preacher, her man with his hands on his hips and a smile on his face. If he was worried, it didn’t show. He was just waiting. Her stupid feet.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life. Let’s get this show on the road.”

 

 

 

 

 

   “Pammy?”

   She pushed tears from her cheek at the sound of the voice. Dumbass vampire. What the hell was he doing in a cemetery on a day like today? He should have been with Sara drinking spiked blood and enjoying the Memorial Day weekend like everyone else. She was due at their house for their picnic later and had planned to eat, drink and celebrate the day as any soldier could appreciate, but for now, it was still her time.

   “What the hell, bloodsucker?”

   Pammy turned away from her mother’s grave and saw a different James than the dumbass she’d expected. He looked much more somber and dapper than she’d ever seen. He usually looked like a metro fashion plate but today he was in a conservative dark blue suit.

   “Who are you remembering today?” he asked solemnly.

   She never would have thought a vampire could appreciate Memorial Day, but maybe that was shortsighted of her. He was at least three hundred years old and most of that had been lived in the States according to Sara. That gave him centuries more of good causes and goodbyes than she’d ever known.

   “My mother,” Pammy answered. “She died in a crash when I was a baby.”

   “Which branch?”

   “Navy. She did three tours and came home without a scratch. After she married Dad and got knocked up…well she went back and there was an accident with one of the new drivers…just a freak thing.”

   “Still a hero,” James said firmly, nearly fiercely she thought.

   They were both quiet as they looked over row after row of white stones. Surrounded by so much strength and sacrifice, Pammy always felt small and humble. There was nowhere else she felt her humanity, nor the strength of that fallible condition, as keenly as when she was near her mother’s grave.

   “My infantry is in that corner,” James said, pointing to the oldest part of the cemetery before doing the same in other directions. 

“And there and there.”

   She recognized the areas from her many visits over the years. James had fought three wars and from what she could see, he’d fought in the bloodiest ones.

   “Seriously?” she asked as she sat blue dahlias on her mom’s grave.

   “Yes.” He nodded. “I like the blue. Vigilance. Perseverance. Justice. The color fits. I would assume you are like her in many ways if she was in the Navy. Of course, I can’t imagine her being as annoying and obnoxious as you, but some things are very hereditary.”

   His words were an amazing compliment; one she’d never have thought would come from James. It left her speechless for a moment. The Freak Sorority did what they could to make the world better and Pammy had always fought alongside her father for the betterment of humanity. With every demon killed, a human, sometimes hundreds of them, were safer. She’d tried to enlist in the military, but had been denied for minor medical reasons. Instead of battlefields,  planes or ships, she’d done her what she could by hunting demons. She liked to think she did a part to make battles less ugly by taking out rogues.

   “So, three wars, huh?” she asked, patting her mother’s tombstone before beginning the long walk out of Arlington National Cemetery. James strolled alongside her. “Why?”

   He sighed heavily as he stayed half a step behind her. “Lots of different reasons actually. The Civil War was for ideology. I was quite the philosopher then. My stepmother erased my memories of the time, but Sara helped me recover them, so I know I was very active in Northern unity movements. WWII was more for the travel and experience, but even the worst of the vampires of the time joined the Allies against Hitler. He and the Reich were bad for every creature’s existence. Vietnam…well even all those years hadn’t erased my idealism and I knew those men and women needed help.”

   “You had a bit of an unfair advantage, wouldn’t you say?” She needed to find his angle. This was James the vampire. He was a mover and shaker and rarely did anything for reasons that didn’t benefit himself. Seeing him in a new light…she wasn’t sure she wanted to do that.

   “At times the advantage was there, definitely,” he agreed but paused in their walk, looking over the hilly span dotted with white. “And other times…even when I swore I wouldn’t let it happen, bonds were made with my fellows. Mathias and Jonathan were like brothers to me by the time we made it to Appomattox. Aaron and Dwight found their way into my graces in the weeks before we battled the ‘bulge’ as history now calls that God-awful day. And Vietnam…even those I did save didn’t come back, not all the way. So many scars. Long after those men died, they stayed with me…”

   “I had no idea,” Pammy said quietly, touched and again humbled.

   “Yes, well, it doesn’t honor them to sit and dwell,” James said briskly, all signs of the sentimental man gone.

   She needed to break the tension and while she didn’t have a story so touching, she still shared what she could. “My dad always did Memorial Day big with parties and streamers and cotton candy.”

   They started walking again, keeping to the side of the very busy path.

   “Really? Cotton candy? I’ve never heard of that tradition.”

   “It was my mom’s thing. She loved cotton candy when she was pregnant and I guess she told Dad and her doctor to buzz off when they encouraged her not to eat it. She’d done her military duty and deserved cotton candy in pink, blue and yellow. Dad teased her that it was a sissy treat, but I’ve seen the pictures, she was small but tough so I believe him when he said she made him pay for insulting her cotton candy.”

   She thought he’d scoff, but when she looked over James was smiling.

   “Cotton candy,” he mused and pulled out his phone, sending off a quick message. “I like that. There’ll be free blue and red fluff at all my clubs in honor of your mother this weekend.”

   “That’s…wow James. I don’t know what to say.”

   He shrugged and walked on as she tried to find the words and compose herself. Her mother’s memory had always been something special. To have it shared was amazing.

   “As one who has ‘died’ in three different wars I’ve got an idea of how American soldiers want to be remembered. Respect is important of course, the pomp and circumstance are appreciated. But after the solutes and handshakes is when the beer and bikinis are the highest shows of honor. Grilling and family and parades…and cotton candy. The continuation of life and celebration of it in this place is what those women and men would want.”

   “Yeah,” she said softly, as close to choked up as she’d ever been over another person’s words. “Yeah, James. Those are good things.

   “I’m finished here,” James announced. “Can I give you a ride anywhere?”

   “Bricker is waiting for me,” she answered, forcing herself out of the sentimentality, but putting his words aside to remember one day. “But thanks.”

   “I’m surprised he wasn’t attached to your hip.”

   “Yeah, maybe next year I’ll introduce him to Mom,” she replied.

   “Perhaps next year will be Sara’s time here as well,” he said, giving the graves one last look as they passed the front gates. The sun was shining on the front walls and hundreds waited to get in to pay their respects. It was the right thing, Pammy thought, for everyone to take the time to remember before they had fun. Because fun was important too.

   “Do I need to bring anything to the party?” Pammy asked as James stopped at his car, parked impossibly close to the front.

   “Just yourself and Pete if you must,” he said, the scorn she was accustomed to hearing back in full force.

   “We’ll be there. I even bought Bricker a new red, white and blue Speedo for the occasion,” she said with a grin.

    He perked up, the sneer much more ‘James’. “I’ll make sure my camera batteries are charged.”

    Pammy nodded and began the long walk to where her man waited. She’d let James enjoy his ride home and anticipation of Pete’s humiliation. The dumbass vampire would get his dose of Speedo when he got home and Sara presented him with his own red, white and blue banana hammock. Pammy grinned, it was going to be a great weekend.

 

 

   Pammy looked around the group of women and asked herself again how she got roped into accompanying Sara to a pre-motherhood support group. If there was a hell-and Pammy had heard many positive accounts to that being accurate-she figured she’d just landed in it.

  The food sucked. Even the preggos hadn’t fallen over the assortment of green, raw and healthy garbage. The women ranged from the barely pregnant to the ones like Sara, who looked ready to pop. Each was in a different stage of discomfort, though most did their best not to bitch about it. Mostly. The one next to Pammy hadn’t stopped talking about her swollen feet the entire time they’d been waiting for the teacher.

   A sour looking woman in wrinkled scrubs finally entered the room. Pammy hoped she wasn’t the teacher because even across the room with her weak human senses Pammy could smell the frustration on the woman. “I’m putting in a movie and getting some coffee. When I get back we’ll talk about colic.”

   Pammy looked at Sara and her displeasure must have shown because Sara put on an extra bright angel smile and led the way to the back row of chairs. After twenty minutes watching bad actors install car seats first the wrong way, then the correct, manufacturer recommended way, the teacher returned stinking of cigarette smoke and bad coffee.

   After another ten minutes of listening to the variety of reasons why babies cried the teacher announced diaper time. The dolls were creepy and impossibly small, but the other women approached the task with excitement, so Pammy figured she could try. She lifted the plastic doll on her station and looked at it face to face. She hoped to god her kid, when she had one, was cuter. Sara sighed beside her and Pammy looked over to see a diapered baby doll.

   “Hey, good job,” Pammy said. “That thing won’t be peeing all over anytime soon.”

   Sara grinned and held the doll up to her shoulder with a natural movement Pammy knew she would never have, without practice. Maybe after she babysat Sara and James’ vangle a few times she’d get the hang of things.

   “Oh, that’s not right,” the teacher said as she took the doll from Sara’s shoulder. “That diaper will squeeze the baby’s tummy and they’ll be crying all night in pain because Mommy was in a hurry.”

   Sara tensed and Pammy wanted to kill the interfering woman just for making her friend unhappy.

   “Do you think so?” Sara asked, her voice more timid than Pammy had ever heard from her usually self-assured angel friend. “I thought I did it right. I can fit a finger between the skin and diaper.”

   “Use two fingers or you might as well call your pediatrician for gas drops,” the woman said and nudged Sara aside to set the baby on the changing table. “See, two fingers. It might make the diaper easier to kick out of, but a good parent doesn’t mind a little extra laundry if it means their child is healthy and safe.”

   “Of course,” Sara said quietly.

   When the bitch moved on to make some other mom miserable, Pammy turned to Sara. “What the hell was that all about? I can’t believe you’d take that crap.”

   “She’s a nurse, so she knows what she’s doing,” Sara said practically. Pammy watched her friend diaper and then re-diaper the doll with shaking hands. “I haven’t exactly been around babies in the past few…well I haven’t been around babies ever. I need all the help I can get to be a good mom.”

   “You’re going to be a great mom,” Pammy assured her, shooting a dark look at the back of the nurse’s ugly scrub top. “Don’t let some bitch make you doubt that.”

   “Oh so you, Rachel and Katie are going to teach me all this stuff?” Sara demanded with a shaky laugh. “Rachel who likes kids, but won’t hold one unless it’s potty trained, Katie who swore off babies after she left her pack and you who have never, ever held a baby? I love you guys, but if I’m going to do this right, I need this class.”

   That shut Pammy up. None of the Freak Sorority sister had dealt with babies of their own. They were all willing to help and the others had attended the class with Sara before. With a new understanding, even if she still thought the teacher was a bitch, Pammy applied herself to diapering. The little Velcro tabs were easy enough to fasten and she had it in place in no time.

   “Oh my,” the teacher said. “You really think you should do that to the poor child?”

   Pammy looked from the doll to Sara, who only shrugged. Confused, Pammy turned back to the teacher and asked, “What’s wrong? I did the wipe front to back, did the two fingers things and both legs look like they are in the right place.”

   “Well,” the nurse said with a heavy sigh and when she once again pushed Sara aside, Pammy lost her temper.

   “Well you just watch what they hell you’re doing,” Pammy snapped, putting a steadying hand on Sara’s shoulder. “You don’t need to be manhandling these women to be a nitpicker.”

   “I beg your pardon?” the nurse demanded with her hands on her hips. “And just what do you know about pregnancy and newborn care young lady?”

   “I know enough not to elbow pregnant chicks,” Pammy replied hotly. “Oh and you don’t go out of your way to make them cry either.”

   “Let me tell you a little something about motherhood, girlie. Pregnancy is only the beginning of the crap these women are going to have to put up with.”

   The other women started to gather around a bit and Pammy wasn’t sure what she’d started. The nurse hadn’t been pleasant during the class so far, and now she looked downright mean.

   “First, the pregnancy and let me tell you, carrying a baby does not make any of these women weak. Even the sniveling ones have a backbone. They don’t need to be coddled. After that baby comes, they’ll be on their own. Oh, family and spouses are super, but at the end of the day that puking, crying, unpredictable beast is hers to deal with. Her body isn’t even her own, because I guarantee she will be guilted into at least trying to breastfeed and when she fails or complains, the doctor and her peers will make her feel that failure until the kid is off bottles.

   “She’s going to screw up and get crap on her hands. She’ll be up at all hours of the night and even though the books all say to sleep with the baby, she’ll still feel pressure to clean the house. But the second it’s a true mess, her mother-in-law will show up and make everything that much worse. If that baby is miserable because Mommy’s a moron and feeds it the wrong formula or puts the diaper on too tightly, it’ll only make Mom’s job harder. That’s why I’m beating commonsense into their heads now. Is there anything else you’d like to add, Miss I’ve Never Had a Baby, Yet Think I’m Qualified to Question a Professional?”

   Pammy was stunned. None of those things had crossed her mind. It was obvious the nurse was a bitch, but maybe she was at least coming from a good place in wanting to help the other women. The preggos obviously hadn’t expected the list of horrors and were all a bit pale, even Sara. Though she was only human, when Pammy took a breath she could nearly smell the fear coming from the women. It hadn’t been her intention to freak everyone out. Humility bumped her down and she felt it was her place to fix the tension that seethed from the nurse.

   “You have kids?” Pammy asked.

   “Yes, four of them and they are all teenagers now,” the nurse snapped. “And I’ve been an OB nurse for fourteen years. I know what it’s like to be on both sides of the doctor’s scope, and I do my absolute best in this class to prepare these moms for the basics. It’s not all cards and flowers. Even on Mother’s Day they might as well plan to spend a few hours cleaning the kitchen after the kids screw up breakfast in bed. And Lord knows there will be glitter all over the house to vacuum from homemade cards. That pedestal people try to put motherhood on is really a big mess and more work than a single woman would ever sign up for if she really understood.”

   Pammy couldn’t remember her mother, so had never put much stock into Mother’s Day. On Father’s Day she always took her dad fishing, but Mother’s Day had always seemed like a greeting card, phony holiday. Since Sara would be a mom soon and the rest of the Freak Sorority was heading toward monogamy-city it made sense to embrace the day.

   “I never realized the pressures involved in motherhood,” Pammy admitted and the smug nurse nodded.

   “Now that you understand just the surface of what it entails, I expect you to shut your mouth and not question me in my class,” the nurse warned.

   “Okay,” Pammy said and lifted her hands palms out to show her surrender. “I will listen and learn. I wish all the moms here a happy Mother’s Day without extra cleaning or any of the other terrors you listed. Hopefully a few, Sara for sure, will get flowers and be pampered on every Mother’s Day from here on out. I hope someone does the same for you too, Nurse. I think many of us have forgotten how important Mother’s Day really is.”

   “That’s true. And don’t end sentences with linking verbs. Didn't you go to English class?” the nurse said snidely.

   Pammy looked to Sara, who shook her head in warning but Pammy didn’t care anymore. She’d taken her humility medicine like a big girl, but she’d learned her lesson which meant she was done taking crap.

   “You’re right,” Pammy said sweetly and the nurse nodded again. “I will be the first to change and honor the mothers in my life starting with Sara, who will be a wonderful mom.” Pammy shot a wink at Sara who only shook her head again before Pammy turned back to the nurse. “And for you ma’am, I’ll do my best to overlook your horrible, petty attitude in regards to motherhood in general and hope it doesn’t infect these women. And hopefully, one day you’ll really understand and enjoy the genuine, loving place kids try to put their mothers on.”

   The nurse’s lips quivered to correct her but Pammy held up her hand again. “I know, that one was a preposition. Let me try it one more time. When I’m a mother I’ll cherish the mess and the glitter and I'll be happy to sit wherever my kids choose to seat me at, bitch.”

  

 

   

 

 “Oh look I found another one!”

   “Me too!”

   James watched as children ran around the library grounds. Easter egg hunt, check. His angel had challenged him to be more child-friendly now that their vangel baby was due any week. Hosting the annual event for the library had been more of a joke on Sara’s end, but he’d accepted and it was going off without a hitch. His sweet angel might think he was archaic and unobservant at times, but in this, he’d proven her wrong. Fatherhood to a vampire-angle hybrid would be a snap. Any fool could hide eggs.

   “Eeeew, it’s raw.”

   “Who would hide raw eggs?”

    The group of loyal story time attendants and their mothers looked to him in shock and disgust. He looked from face to face, nearly twenty children alone and still didn’t understand his fault. Eggs. Rachel the succubus librarian had told him to get four dozen eggs, fill them with whatever he wanted and hide them in the back garden. He’d bought five dozen for good measure, pre-filled from nature and hid them in varying degrees of difficulty.

   “Raw eggs, James?” He looked over at Rachel who sounded horrified. “What’s wrong with you?”

   The librarian was usually the quietest of the Freak Sorority sisters. He’d never had a problem with her. Her boyfriend, on the other hand, was a bit of a pain. Nick was a sarcastic ass and happened to be sainted, which made any action against his humor ill-advised.  They’d passed each other briefly in the library, but so far he’d not made an appearance at the festivities. James was getting the feeling the old saint was laughing too hard to make it out the door.

   “I did exactly what you told me to do,” he snapped. “The eggs were pre-filled. Why the children would want to take home eggs is beyond me. I thought perhaps they were requiring protein-rich sustenance. Obviously I did something wrong.”

***

   Rachel was going to stake him. How had she thought she could trust Sara to make sure fangs knew the deal? The guy was a five-hundred-year-old, self-absorbed vampire. Assuming he knew to hard boil eggs or even buy plastic ones and fill them with chocolate had been ridiculous. And it was going to prove disastrous if she didn’t do something quickly.

   “Do your mind thingie.”

   The dumb vampire had the nerve to look at her in confusion.

   “Do it, hold them all still and blur this cluster fuck.”

   “Oh.” He turned to the group who was getting increasingly noisy and unhappy. With a look he froze them all. “I cannot keep them this way forever.”

   “How long?”

   “Half an hour at most,” he admitted.

   “That’ll be enough time. I swear to the goddess, Vampire, you need to get a freaking book on kids, holidays and not being a moron.”

   The day was not ruined, Rachel assured herself as she ran for the library. It was just going to take a little improvising and maybe some very naughty promises to get it back on track.

***

   “I hope you’re prepared to pay the forfeit for this, Rachel.”

   Nick looked down and tried for an empiric, warning expression but knew he’d failed when she just smirked.

   “Of course, Nick. I said I’d do whatever you wanted if you’d help with this.”

   “Yes, well, ‘this’ is a mite more than I expected when you begged your favor. ‘This’ is going to cost you two weeks in Barbados   and a month way-way up north in December.”

   “I can’t take that much time off-“

   “I’m wearing a bunny costume, Rachel. I have a puff ball tail and am going to step in the shoes of one of the biggest lushes in the holiday-related magic beings for you. I think you can rearrange that schedule.”

   She burst out laughing but he remained firm. There was nothing funny as far as he was concerned. If his friends found out he was playing Easter bunny they’d never let him live it down. He might as well put on a damn tutu while he was at it and play tooth fairy. Rachel finally stopped laughing, her breasts heaving with every breath. Even underneath her ugly librarian garb they looked fantastic. She was the reason he was dressed as a moron and he knew it deep in his soul, if she asked for the tutu, he’d put the damn thing on. That’s what love did.

   “Okay, okay, you’re right. This is huge and I really hope I never have to ask you anything like this ever again. But it is sort of for your brotherhood. James is the one who screwed everything up. I thought calling in his boys was the way to go. Peter is on his way with candy from his store and Sam is-oh look-they’re both here. Perfect timing.”

   “What did the fuzzy bring?”

   “T-shirts from his store for all the kids,” she replied.

   “And that wasn’t enough? You needed a freaking Easter bunny when you were going to dose them in chocolate and free stuff?”

   She stopped and turned to him. He could see James still in the courtyard, Peter and Sam standing beside him with their arms full. The kids and their parents were still frozen, but only Rachel had his attention.

   “You’re right, I don’t need a bunny. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to and I’ll still plan on Barbados and a Christmas excursion north,” she said with her beautiful brown eyes downcast. “I’d never want to really embarrass you or make things hard for you with your friends.”

   He melted, but really, from the moment he’d met her, any part of him that time had frozen had sprung back to life with her presence. She was a succubus so she should have been draining but even while she took energy from him at nearly a constant flow, she also invigorated him. He’d never felt more alive.

   With a rabbit mittened hand he reached up and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. Her eyes were especially big behind the glasses she wore at work, but nothing could detract from the true beauty he saw and felt in her.

   “I’ll be the damn Easter bunny.”

She smiled and he knew it was worth all the fuzzy bottom and long eared jokes he’d be hearing for the rest of his existence.

***

   “Who knew it would take a bunny to save a scawie vampire?”

   James scowled at Pete. The stupid human had been making jokes all afternoon. Had they not been glaringly true, James would have bit the little bastard by now. As it was, he deserved the contempt. If not for Rachel, Santa and the stock boy, the event would have been a disaster. Disappointing all those children wouldn’t have caused him any joy.

   “You know, Rachel probably could find you a book on holidays and stuff,” Pete said, somewhat helpful. “She’d probably be able to find one with all pictures too since you obviously don’t know how to read. I mean, seriously? Raw eggs? Every store circular now has plastic eggs and ones touted as prefilled with candy and toys. What kind of idiot gives kids raw eggs?”

   Pete was flung away with startling force. James instantly reached to grab him, but the human was smacked against the library wall before he could help. James turned to identify the threat and nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw his tiny, pregnant fiancé glowing to blinding wattage.

   “He’s my idiot,” she snarled. James looked back at the kids and their families. No one had noticed the pissed off angel yet so he froze them quickly before turning back to the love of his life.

   “Hello darling. I believe Pete didn’t mean any harm in his teasing. Just man talk,” James said calmly. Angel or not, Sara had a temper. It was one of the reasons she was an imperfect, Earth-dwelling member of her race. She was also fiercely loyal and mostly good. Any action she took in anger would haunt her later.

   “I didn’t like it.” Her voice was flat and if he could sweat, James knew it would be pouring. Pete was a good guy and Sara’s best friend’s fiancé and hurting him would hurt the Freak Sorority. “You tried very hard on this and don’t need to be put down for minor details.”

   Santa in the bunny suit was suddenly at James’ side and handed him a basketful of goodies. “Use them.”

He looked down and found little board books and pacifiers along with miscellaneous infant paraphernalia.

   “Tell her you got her an Easter basket, moron,” Santa whispered from the side of his mouth.

   “What? Oh, right. Angel face? I have something here for you. Something I think you’ll like for the baby.”

   She turned and immediately the blinding glow dimmed a bit so he could see her face. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam and Nick rush to Pete. They helped the other man sit, but he looked okay.

   “Oh?” she asked her voice back to the light, playful lilt that he knew and loved. He loved her pissed off angel voice as well, but not when it posed a threat to her happiness.

   “Yes, my love.” He strode to her and fought not to shield his eyes even as she continued to ease back to normal. The energy around her also yielded and by the time he was close, she was nearly back to herself so he let the humans free once more to enjoy their Easter festivities.

   He smiled and handed her the basket. “They are little things for the baby from the brotherhood.”

   “Oh? That’s so sweet!” She took the basket and started oohing and ahhing in earnest and James knew the danger had passed.

   He motioned Nick and Sam to get Pete out of sight. No need in testing that theory.  

 

 

      They were going to lose. Sam looked around the soccer field. It was St. Patrick’s Day in New York City, which meant it was a chilly, muddy mess. Usually the winning part of the annual charity soccer tournament made those things bearable.  He watched as the team of werebears once again intercepted the ball from the team captain of the werewolves. They were toast.

      The ref called halftime the two teams ran to their benches. On the werewolf side, three alternates sat warming the bench. Katie had convinced him to invite the brotherhood boyfriends to play on the team. They’d all turned him down initially but he had a feeling their females told them to accept, so there they were, dressed for the festivities. Pete wore white and green striped knee socks, black athletic shorts and the emerald shirt the rest of the team wore. He wasn’t shivering like the last break, leading Sam to believe Nick was helping him there.

       Nick Kringle, AKA Santa, was sitting beside Pete in the same green shirt though he and the vampire made the ten dollar t-shirts look like Armani. They were high maintenance males and more powerful than Sam would ever hope to be.

     They were his pack. Kinda. After moving from Pennsylvania to be with Katie, he’d been alone in the male companionship area. The werewolves in New York City were assholes, almost completely across the board. Santa was a pretty boy and always smelled like gingerbread, Pete was human and completely breakable and James…well he was an ancient, powerful vampire who, frankly, scared the hell out of Sam. They were also the loves of his mate’s friends, so they were the logical, if not obvious choice for friends.

      “God, they all stink.”

      Sam looked over at the rude outburst. Eli Wolf.  He was a werewolf as his name implied. He was also an asshole, but Sam couldn’t blame his mother for leaving that part out. He’d probably been born a perfectly nice little pup, but somewhere along the line he’d become a whiny sack of crap.

      “Yeah, well they can’t help it,” Sam said. “What’s your excuse for stinking up the field? You should quit teasing that bear and let him go all the way with your ass instead of letting him play with your balls when it’s soccer time.”

      Eli lunged for him, but Sam was more than ready. The other werewolf was a hot headed moron, but no match for him. He grabbed him in a headlock and twisted until Eli was struggling to stay on his feet. Eli’s boys were all around, but none of them moved to help. Sam wondered about that until he realized James, Nick and Pete had stepped up behind him. His back had felt unguarded for his first few weeks in New York City. That wasn’t a problem anymore.

    “So, Eli. I’m thinking you’d better sit yourself on the bench. My guys are going to play and we’re going to win this game. If you’d like, after we’ve kicked ass, we can take names and I can ask that bear for his number. Otherwise, sit down and shut up.”

     Sam made sure to toss Eli a good twenty feet before turning to the rest of the team, feeling relatively certain Nick, Pete or James would alert him if Eli did something stupid, like try to attack him from behind. Eli’s wolves looked resigned and Sam bet they were. Eli was locally known as a moron. Seeing him get his ass kicked couldn’t be new.

    “Nick, you’ll be forward with me. James, I want you near the goalie. Flash those fangs and remind those morons who they’re dealing with. Pete-“

    “Hell yeah, I’m ready to play.” Pete clapped and hopped from foot to foot in warm up. “What do you want me to do?”

    “I don’t want you to get killed, so stay out of the way,” Sam said and Nick cuffed Pete’s arm in camaraderie.

    “Don’t worry, Pete. Next time we play sports we’ll play humans; less chance you’ll get your pretty face kicked in. Pammy would hunt us all down if we let any of those weres have at you,” Nick said.

    Pete nodded, looking a little paler after Nick’s words than he had moments earlier. Sam grinned; it was nice having pack mates with brains.

***

    “I thought there was supposed to be grain alcohol involved with this.”

    Pete looked over to James who had barely moved from his position in the last two quarters. The game was nearly over and though James hadn’t moved much, the times he had, he’d prevented all but one goal. Sam and Nick had made up for that goal and the team was up by three with only minutes left. Pete knew he hadn’t contributed, but he was still alive, so he called that a win.

    He looked at James who was peering at his manicured nails. “Not grain alcohol. Green beer. They put dye in it.”

    “Ah, yes.  I have an event manager for my clubs who handles the holiday details. The dye order makes sense now.”

    “How do you usually celebrate St. Patrick’s Day?”

    James gave him a bored look and turned away from the violent field of players. “St. Patrick’s Day has long been an Irish holiday, one with Catholic origins as well. When I lived in Dublin I had to make myself scarce the week of St. Patrick’s Day because they had vampire hunts as part of the festivities.”

   “No way, why would they do that?”

    James shrugged. “That was about seventeen-fifty and a new Cardinal had taken over the Dublin diocese. He liked the hunt for social reasons, but he alone killed almost ten vampires in his years in the city.”

   The timeframe was mindboggling but Pete was getting used to having his mind stretched. “What happened to him?”

   “Like all humans, he died. He liked to drink grain alcohol as much as he enjoyed killing vampires, which is probably why I made my error.”

   “Oh, I’m sorry for your loss. Were the other vampires your friends?” The ball nearly made it to his side and Pete moved three steps, but Nick came bolting in and headed toward the other goal again.

    “No. I’m not friends with stupid vampires. To get staked by a drunken old man proved they were beneath me.”

    Pete turned back to the field when James walked away. He wasn’t much of a people-person, which Pete thought went against his owning dance clubs and bars. The meager crowd clapped when Nick made another goal, but they didn’t have much of a following. The Freak Sorority hadn’t made it because they were doing an ultra-secret ritual. Pete was pretty sure that meant they were hitting the green booze early and harassing a colony of leprechauns about gold.

    The ref started the game again and Pete got ready to not touch the ball for the last few minutes.

   “Demon. Satan!”

    Pete looked over at the slurred shouting. A man in a muddy white robe was stumbling into the field boundaries. He could practically smell the alcohol on the guy even ten feet away. The action was on the other end of the field so no one noticed, not even James who Pete saw was talking on his phone.

   The robed man was heading for James’ back. Pete remembered James’ boasts and since he’d seen the vampire in action he wasn’t worried; not until the stranger pulled a wooden stake from the folds of his robe. He was within feet of James and closing fast, yet the vampire didn’t turn. Pete opened his mouth to yell, but the ball came to him. Before Nick could spirit it away, Pete kicked it, launching the black and white ball toward the guy with the stake.

      Between the robe and ball, he lost his balance. Pete thought he might have done more harm than good when the stake-carrying weirdo continued falling forward and slammed into James. Within the time of a blink, James pulled away and the white-clad man fell in the mud.

   James looked down, and then looked up to Pete. “What the hell just happened?”

    The ref blew the final whistle, calling the game a victory for the werewolf team. Sam and Nick, along with the group of weres gathered.

    “Good game boys. Damn fine game. So, who’s that guy?” Sam asked, throwing down the green bandana he’d worn for the game.

    “Hm.” Nick strolled closer and Pete stepped away. Santa had some freaky precognitive abilities he wanted no part of. “This is Father Michael, fresh off the boat from Ireland. He saw a vampire and came to save the day.”

     “Bloody hell.” James held his green t-shirt away from his body, revealing a massive gash in the cotton.

     “Wow, he almost gutted you.” Sam’s voice was hushed and the rest of the weres sobered in their celebration. Pete felt the blood drain from his face at the severity of the tear. With all the baddies on the field, it had been a human who’d nearly caused injury. Sam patted him hard on the shoulder. “Good work, Pete. Looks like James is going to be buying tonight, eh boys?”

     The revelry returned and good natured ribbing about the game commenced. Pete expected more teasing toward James, but the werebears and werewolves just got the confused but no longer violent priest back on his feet and pointed him toward his parish. They gathered up their things and shouted plans for meeting at the bar and getting drunk on the vampire’s debit card. But no one mentioned the near staking.

    “We’re all vulnerable to the flukes of the universe.” Pete broke from his observations and looked over to find Nick tossing a towel in his athletic bag. “Which is why James isn’t catching hell. We might all tease humans at times; call you guys cattle and complain about the smell, but the truth is, at one time or another most of us have been forced to rely on a human. It’s humbling when you’re bigger, faster and stronger to admit to relying on the weaker species. This incident, I believe, is James’ first taste of that humility, so everyone is going easy on him. Any one of us could have been the priest’s target. He was drunk and could have picked any of us out. You saved James, and in a sense, all of us today, Pete.”

    The words blew his mind. It was impossible to imagine James being slain let alone by an incompetent drunk. Dumb luck and misfortune; it made sense they were the two things to take out the creatures most difficult to kill.

    “It wasn’t a hunter that almost got me years ago,” Nick continued as they ambled toward the bar. “It was a damn brass poker someone left too close to the fire. I slid down the chimney and bam, right in the ass. It wouldn’t have killed me, but it would have prevented me from finishing my deliveries. My first reliance on a human after I’d been sainted was to wake up the father of the house, who happened to be a smithy, thank goodness, and have him pull the poker from my ass.”

     “Wow.” Pete was going to need a lot of beer to deal with everything he’d learned in his latest brush with the freak side of the universe.  “How’d that go for you?”

      Nick winced. “Well, it wasn’t fun but my pride smarted longer than my ass. James is going to be the same way, but just as I learned back then, any day you get a chance at the rest of your life is a good day. Even if you have to thank a human for it.”

      Hw snorted; sure he wouldn’t be getting any gratitude from the vampire who walked behind them.

      “You probably won’t get that thanks,” Nick admitted, holding open the door to the bar. “But you are going to get all your drinks bought tonight and I’ll bet the old bastard will do some vampire voodoo to prevent a hangover. Isn’t that better?”

     Pete thought about Nick’s question as he was surrounded by werebears, vampires, and werewolves and being toasted for the best kick of the game. He grinned and raised his foamy, green glass. Thanks were nice, but being one of the guys was better.

 

 

        Peter “Bricker” Stevens looked around the table. He’d never heard of the restaurant Pammy said she wanted to go to for Valentine’s Day but he’d called for reservations and shown up in his good pants and shoes. He’d looked all over for information about the club but it was a big hush and he realized why as he looked around. It was a mobster, A-list, crazy ass club and he was a grocer, sipping Crystal.

        He was also surrounded by, damn he didn’t even know. The guy next to him, James, was creepy as hell. But he was with Pammy’s best friend, Sara, who was a sweetheart. They were engaged and she was pregnant and very happy from what he’d seen. Peter wasn’t sure what either was, but he was pretty damn certain neither was human. James was too eerie and Sara glowed more than even a pregnant woman could boast.

      Next were Rachel and Nick. They seemed normal enough, or he thought they might have been but they hadn’t stopped making out since they sat down. Every time they got together as a group they were all over each other. If he saw either alone, he wasn’t sure if he’d recognize them without the others lips connected. They couldn’t be human. She was sex magnified and he always smelled like gingerbread and candy canes. No guy willingly smelled like those things after the Christmas season.

     Last but not least were Katie and Sam. Two very fuzzy people, both with big personalities who had bypassed the champagne in favor of tequila. Red meat too, they’d each ordered a steak for appetizers. Pammy had given him a list of what everyone in her group of friends was. He was pretty sure they were werewolves, unless all the red meat meant they were vampires. But there was only one vampire and well, he was pretty sure if the ominous standard was true, it was James. Which was why he wanted to move the hell away from him.

    “Okay, ladies. Darn it Rachel would you quit frenching Santa? You’re giving me the creeps.” Little Sara stood, her tiny silver dress even shorter with her belly pressing out against it. James was close beside her, keeping a big hand on her elbow since her heels were nearly as long as her legs. “I call to order the annual meeting of the freaks-“

   “Whoa,” Peter said though Pammy elbowed him. “What? I don’t think you should be called a freak. You’re weird as hell, but I love you and I don’t want anyone insulting you.”

   “Awe, the bag boy loves you, Pammy,” Katie, the furry one said and threw back a shot. “Damn that’s good. Okay, someone explain the freak to the normie over there.”

   “The freak moniker, as I understand,” James said. “Comes from them taking back the insult from those who have used it against them in the past. They use it, embrace it so it loses its ugly connotation.”

   “Though if anyone uses it against them, I put their asses straight on the naughty list,” Nick said and Peter wondered who the hell he was because he couldn’t be who he thought.

   “Awe,” Sam said, a little tipsy and more bear-like than wolf-like. “Humans called you a freak, fuzzy? I’ll growl at them if you want.”

   “Naw, I growl at the freak callers myself,” she said and gave him a big, sloppy kiss.

   “Bricker, don’t worry about the freak thing.” Beside him, Pammy ran her finger up his thigh.

   “But,” he dropped his voice and spoke just for her. “You hated being called a freak in high school. I remember you cut off some chick’s pony tail once after she told the whole tenth grade you were one. I might not be able to list anyone or growl but I can speak up for you some.”

   Their first Thanksgiving together had been amazing and in the months following, Peter had fallen in love with Pammy. She was rude, crazy, impetuous and completely amazing. Every day she amazed him and he could see them together forever. She scared the hell out of him when she took off in the middle of the night and showed up at his place bruised and covered in demon goo, but she made him smile like no one ever could. His mom even said she was a keeper.

   Pammy shook her head. “You are such a dork. Why the hell do I love you so much?”

   “I said the same thing, word for word to you yesterday, remember?”

   “Okay love birds,” Rachel said. “Let’s talk Freak business, and the lovingly freak, Bricker boy, no insults at all. Do we have recruit lists yet? Anyone standing out in the freak world?”

   “Oh, I saw a miniature pixie,” Sara said, waving her hand wildly. “And I want to do the sleepover on pledge week.”

   “Yeah fucking right,” Pammy said. “You’re going to have a baby vangle at home. I’ll take the sleepover.”

   “Ah, pet,” James said, his voice strained. “Is this really a freak meeting? May I take care of things here with the cow or do you mind if I step out a moment.”

   “You did not just call my man a cow, bloodie-boo,” Pammy said and Peter leaned back in his seat when the love of his life reached across him and held a butter knife in front of James-the vampire suspicion confirmed-face.

   “O-M-G, girl, you are not holding on a knife on my man.” Sara was on her feet again and Pam rose to hers as well, Peter and James both scooting back, though Peter slid away from James at the same time.

   “Angel face-“

   “Uh uh, I’ll take care of this,” Sara said, holding a finger up when James tried to interrupt. She pulled a flask from her purse and handed it to him. “You didn’t think I wouldn’t think of you, did you? I am going to be a mommy, James; mommies don’t forget to feed the ones they love. This bitch though, needs a spanking.”

   Peter started to stand but was stopped by an iron hand to his bicep. He looked over and found a perfectly manicured, male hand stopping him. And it was attached to James.

   “Awe, hell, you’re going to bite me now, aren’t you?”

   James grinned, his incisors longer but he just showed the flask. “You heard my angel, she brought me a treat. Now, I can see you’re the gallant sort, ready to rush in and save your girl, but don’t worry. These girls would never hurt one another.”

   “Well he was getting all vampy, Sara,” Rachel broke in, standing also and Peter saw she was actually very pretty, even pissed. “You can’t expect her to not jump in.”

    “Oh my mistletoe, she’s freaking hot.”

    Peter looked over to see Nick beside them, his smile bigger than even James’.

    “Hey, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Nick Kringle,” he said, offering a hand. “Oh and Fangs, keep those damn things to yourself.”

    “I’m all set here, jolly man,” James said.

    “Well if Pammy wasn’t dating such a little bitch cow then James wouldn’t have been tempted.”

    “Holy hell, is there anything sexier than a female growling like a feral bitch in heat?”

    “Okay,” Peter said when Sam joined them. “I need a rundown of who or what everyone here is.”

    “Werewolf.” Sam immediately responded, toasting with tequila.

     Nick poured himself more Champagne but didn’t turn from the brewing fight when he answered. “Sainted immortal in charge of elves and Christmas magic.”

    “I think you’ve already got me figured out,” James said. “And you are a scrumptious little human who fell in love with a Demon hunter.”

    “He’s the one who is going to father the next generation of demon hunters,” Nick corrected and turned away long enough to wink. “I get a little precog along with the reindeer. Cute kids, but save for braces.”

    Stunned, Peter turned from one to the other, trying to put them in a space in his mind that made sense but since they were all supposed to be fiction it wasn’t so easy.

    “This is the day of sainted, freaking love and you were going to gut the father of my baby!” Sara screeched.

   “It was a butter knife, you drama queen,” Pammy yelled. “I can gut a lot of things with a butter knife but not a thousand year old vampire.”

    “So boys,” the vampire in discussion said. “I was thinking since it looks like we’re in this for the long haul, maybe we should consider teaming up. A fraternity of freaks if you will.”

    “Oh hell no,” Sara said, and the men found themselves the target of multiple freak, female displeasure. “The Freak Sorority is trademarked boys. And we have no interest in branching into including penises in our official business.”

    “Yeah, why ruin a perfectly good, smart, world changing club with a bunch of dicks?” Pammy asked, the butter knife incident passed since the girls had a common enemy.

   “Okay, okay,” James said, holding up his hands. “Fraternity of Freaks is out. How about a brotherhood or the like?  A brotherhood of freak lovers? We could help your boy here, Pammy.”

    “Oh,” Pammy said and looked at him. Peter didn’t think it was a bad idea and if Santa was right, and how could Santa be wrong? He needed to understand Pammy’s world. “Well, I guess I don’t hate that idea. Girls?”

    One by one they nodded, Sara looking especially pleased, but she always did. Peter wondered what she was. She couldn’t be an angel. It seemed wrong that an angel was engaged to a vampire, expecting a baby and living in sin. Right? Across the speakers of posh club where R and B and edgy dance music had been playing all night, Little Red Ridinghood poured out.

   The girls squealed as one and Peter saw the men roll their eyes. It was Pammy’s favorite song so he’d tipped the waiter way too much money before they sat down to play it.

    “O-M-G,” Sara cried. “Did you bloodie-boo?”

    “Ah, as much as I’d love to-“

    “Uh uh, my Bricker did this one,” Pammy said and Peter had never loved the nick-name more than he did when she seductively lifted him by his tie. “Come on, big boy. Let’s get Valentine’s Day started.”

    He grinned as he looked back at the guys whose women were momentarily pouting or looking on him and Pammy adoringly. His demon huntress wrapped herself around him on the deserted dance floor and they were soon joined by the others.

   “Wow, so far this has been a pretty great Valentine’s Day, huh?” he asked. “Fancy restaurant, we both have our dress up shoes on. No bloodshed.”

    “But close,” she sighed into his shirt. “So that makes it pretty darn close to perfect. But the night is still young. Who knows what kind of trouble we can find to make.”

    That’s what he was afraid of.

 

 Katie Myters scheduled her waxing appointments for Fridays so she could drink until she passed out afterward and not feel trashy.

     Being born a female werewolf guaranteed she was going to be hairy in one form, but she’d lucked out and was nearly as furry as a human as she was when she ran on four legs. Back home in Pennsylvania, the furry look didn’t bother anyone. They were too polite to comment on the perma-sweater she wore but in Manhattan, the Bo-Ho chick look only gave so much allowance for au natural.

     The rest of her fur she had to attack with wax.

      Lots of wax.

      More wax than her salon had on hand at the end of the week.

     They’d finished her legs and arms and got halfway through her bikini when the technician ran out. They were profusely sorry, of course, and offered to comp the rest if she went to another salon, but there was no way in hell she was getting in a taxi to ride for an hour to start again.

      It wasn’t like anyone was seeing her business anyway. It was winter and with no boyfriend prospects or swimming suits, she could wait until her next appointment to tame her girlie parts.  Her friend Rachel was a stripper and great with waxing so she would help de-fur her face. No problem.

     “Fuzzy?”

      Katie jerked to a stop and groaned. Quick movements did not a happy vagina make. The owner of the voice wasn’t who she was hoping to see either when all she had in mind was liquor-induced obliviation.

      “Hi, Sam.”      “I thought that was you. I can smell you from a mile away, you’re like cotton candy in a big pile of gym socks.”

     She forced a smile as her brother’s best friend approached. The sidewalk traffic toward the bar was busy; it was New Year’s Eve after all but people walked around them without a problem. Sam looked just the same, a giant lug of werewolf; tall, dark, bushy eyebrows and since he commented on her scent, she couldn’t help but notice that he smelled like a million bucks. Nothing smelled as good to a female Were than a fertile, healthy male and Sam was all three with a cherry on top.

   “Do I smell blood?” His instantly concern made her swear. Of course he’d smell the blood.

   “Yep. Girl stuff,” she muttered, putting some distance between them. “Why are you in the city? Shouldn’t you be home chasing wagons?”

“I’ve got three sisters, Fuzzy. I know the scent of girl stuff,” he said, invading her space and taking deep breaths. “Where is the pain and blood coming from?”

     “Waxing.”

      A grin broke out across his big face. Everything about Sam was oversized from his giant feet to all-encompassing personality. He was supersized and all the girls loved him. Even Katie. It had been his desire to stay in Pennsylvania that conflicted with her need to be in the city with her work that kept them from trying a relationship.

   “You silly female.” He laughed. “You don’t need to wax. You just need to stop hanging out with stupid, fuzz-hating humans.”

“Well, I like Manhattan and my job is here so I guess I’ll keep doing it,” she said. If not for the humans, she wouldn’t be embarrassed about her hair. The fuzz was a good thing in Were culture. It meant she carried strong wolf genes and could most likely have many healthy pups. She wanted that eventually, but also wanted to keep up her clothing designs and eventually develop her own line of women’s wear. Priorities were developing, she just had to make a few sacrifices along the way.

    “Sounds kinda dumb to me. So, where are we going?”

“Why are you in Manhattan? Are you here to ring in the New Year?”

“Actually, I inherited my uncle’s store so I’m officially your new neighbor. Or relative neighbor. This city is ginormous.” He waved his hand at the skyline barely visible with the tall buildings surrounding them. He turned back and grinned. “So, where we going, Fuzzy?”

   “Tequila,” she said as the pain returned despite his very distracting, delicious company. “Lots of it. Follow me, big boy.”

Five shots later with Sam’s debit card on the bar footing the bill for the delightful excess, Katie clinked her glass against his and threw back the shot. She watched as Sam used the salt and lime and did the same.

   “If we hang out on waxing nights, I’ll have you off training wheels before you know it,” she assured him, not bothering with the pretty condiments with her liquor anymore.

“How often?” he asked, looking less than sober, but that was to be expected. Weres didn’t usually drink for entertainment. They ran in wolf form to escape human life and stress, but hitting the streets of Manhattan as two wolves was not a smart way to end the year.

    “Every damn month.” She motioned to the bartender again. “My New Year’s resolution is to save enough money for electrolysis.”

    “No! That’s…” Sam’s voice dropped low and he leaned in close. “Permanent, right?”

“Yep,” she whispered back, enjoying feeling silly with one of her oldest friends. “No longer will I be fuzzy. No longer will I have to listen to men ask if I have to comb my face. No longer will I be accused of wearing sweaters all year long.”

      He looked stunned a moment and she realized she’d probably sounded bitchy. But honestly, the teasing and tormenting hurt. What made the situation worse was when she actually gave in and complied with the dickheads of the world.

“Or,” he said thoughtfully. “You could tell them all to go to hell and then get yourself a badass werewolf to bite them.”

      She smiled, and felt her insides warm and not just because of the liquor. Sam wasn’t the smartest guy she knew. He’d run around more with her older brothers than with her, but he’d been unfailingly sweet in their twenty-four year association.

He wiggled his eyebrows. “I happen to know a few guys who think fuzzy is sexy and like to bite jerks.”

She grabbed her shot glass and drank it down to hide her immediate disappointment. Maybe the sweet had failed a little, but the burn helped.

“Oh, I’m just kidding, Fuzz. If you want growling and biting-” He thumped his chest. “I’m your wolf.”

He leaned his head back and let out a howl. The drunks at the bar joined in and Katie laughed. Sam nudged her with his elbow, his eyes twinkling.

“What the hell.” She threw her head back and joined in.

When the DJ announced the New Year approaching, the howling ebbed. Sam leaned in closer and Katie let him, even let herself close a bit of the remaining distance.

“I’ve missed you,” he said. “Before my uncle died, he asked what I wanted. The store in Manhattan was the only thing I could think of.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep. You never come home anymore and your mom said you’re here for good. I figured if I wanted you, I had to get off my wolf ass and come to you. It’s a good thing I came when I did.”

“Oh yeah?” She was repeating herself, but she couldn’t think of what else to say. Sam was just full of unexpected tidbits of honesty.

 “Yep, you were about to permanently disfigure your pretty self. Wouldn’t want my fuzzy to change that much. I love her just the way she is.”

“Just the way she is?"

"Oh yeah."

“So does that mean you’re going to follow me around and growl when people act stupid?”

“Yep, and let’s not forget the biting. I’ll even do the rest of the great boyfriend-werewolf stuff. I’ll make scrambled eggs to go along with the bacon I brought from the Amish farm back home. And that howl just now? That’s nothing compared to what I’m going to make you do in your foyer.”

"My foyer?"

“You don’t honestly think we’re going to make it to the bedroom for the first dozen times, do you?”

Katie laughed and as the DJ and the rest of the bar began the countdown to New Years, it didn’t matter that her legs, arms and crotch were on waxing fire. She made a mental note to make an appointment at her salon’s sister site to get things finished up. Maybe afterward she’d let everything grow again. The waxing would hurt like hell, but afterward, maybe she could get Sam tipsy again and show him her entry way.

 

 

 

 

Dad, Uncle, Son and Grandpa. Rachel grinned when she saw the table only two feet from the stage. Three generations of sweet Vermont sexual energy pointed directly at her. It was the best stuff she’d found yet. Like their maple syrup, Vermont men seemed to ooze the very sweetest energy.

       The music was thumping faster, her turn on the stage nearly over but she was making the best of her feeding time. Her tiny white blouse and school girl plaid thrown to the side, only a pink thong stood between her and the men in the club. Even the little scrap of fabric felt too much separation when generations of horny men watched her every move and wished she was going home with them. It was a heady feeling for any succubus and the reason she maintained distance from her meals.

    Sex could be like candy for her kind. Too much caused problems, but it was so hard to stop when it tasted so very good. So she kept her distance and didn’t tempt her control. Leaving dead lovers wasn’t something she ever wanted to do.

      She pressed her breasts together and made a round with her hips, and gave her lips a long, wet lick. The groans were audible and the last hard wave of desire kicked the edge of her starvation. With the holidays season so busy at her job at the library in New York City, she’d put off feeding too long and had been hurting when she made it to the dressing rooms. The infusion of lust and desire had her ready for the night.

“Bad school girl,” the announcer said over the speaker and Rachel headed down the stairs into the crowd. “And now, for those of you who got too excited over our naughty student, our head nurse is here to take care of all your aches.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. Starla was next, dumbest broad she’d ever met, but the busty Latina kept the men on edge and she was more than willing to reap the energy. The other girls stripped for the money and only did lap dances if they were super broke or couldn’t find one of the others that was. Rachel was always up for feeding closer to the source. Nearly sex, emulating sex, no nasty corpses with hard-ons after.

“Suckmedri.”

She heard her name. He might have even whispered it but her hearing was phenomenal and he knew it. Being an Incubus, Tommy had many of the same super demon features in his handsome body as she had in her sexy one. Both were nearly copper colored with dark auburn hair, they had a glow that humans thought made them look especially healthy. Tommy’s eyes were dreamy blue and he never traveled without a bevy of beautiful women trying to throw themselves at him. She was able to tone down her looks with cover-up powder, drab clothes and dark rimmed glasses in her regular life, but all done up she beat Tommy’s beauty out of the water.

“Private request for you,” he said. She didn’t waste the time only listening. With eyes still on her despite Starla’s performance she bent at the waist to fix her shoe strap, thrusting her minuscule covered ass high in the air and swaying it gently. The pours of her skin like little mouths to absorb the energy, she felt another burst. She would need many more to be satisfied. “Nice ass shake. So anyway, a couple baked potatoes waiting in sitting room A.”

“Hot and loaded, thanks Tommy.”

He was good about getting her what she needed. Stuck in a nor’easter two years earlier, they’d had to make due for three days and she hadn’t known better than to kick him away when he started eating. She’d been sick for days after that experiment, their energy not at all compatible but she’d kept him from starving so he always looked out for her.

The private rooms were just as the name implied, a place where clientele could get more personal attention. Nothing illegal was done but a little more touching and teasing happened. She turned into the room and drew the curtain. Not too private for safety sake.

Not that any human would stand a chance against a succubus, but the thought was nice. She turned in and froze. The dark was no problem, most succubae could see better in the dark, just like they could hear and smell better than humans. The smells filling the room hit her hard and sent true lust through her body.

Two men sat with drinks and food at the small table in the center of the room.  One was husky, hairy and delicious in his own right. The other was more lithe, finely structured and the most handsome creature she’d ever seen.  He also had the scent of the gods mingled with his humanity.  For many demons it was kryptonite. For succubae it was catnip.

“Oh hell, Suckmedri,” the bigger one said and Rachael realized he wasn’t quite human either. “It was too much to hope for a hot little Asian.  Succubus, I’m outa here Nick.  Merry Christmas.”

Her hand shot out on its own accord when the burly man tried to pass.  He stopped and didn’t move away when she curled closer, taking a deep breath at his neck, “Mmmm, shifter.”

“Yep, but I might as well be dog food with that one around,” he said and jerked his finger toward the one called Nick. “I’ll be back another night though, hot stuff.  Have fun Nick, you lucky bastard.”

“Oh, I will,” the other said and Rachael reluctantly let the shifter pass.

One of her best friends was a werewolf and they’d had loads of fun when Kate went through her questioning sexuality phase.  Shifter energy, be it werewolf, bear or pigeon was heady and delicious, like aged steak and fine wine.  The man still waiting at the table was a vintage of something else all together.  She stepped closer, his attraction exotic and undeniable.  Blonde curls covered his head and his eyes were bluer than Tommy’s she saw as his gaze moved along her body with appreciation.  

“I was not expecting to find one of the dark daughters in a strip club,” Nick said, jerking her out of her observations. “Although I admit, it’s fertile feeding ground.  I thought most of your kind prefers the more…intimate sort of nourishment.” 

“I am definitely not my sisters,” she agreed, her voice so throaty and raspy she barely recognized it but his eyes flashed in desire at the sound. She nearly hit her knees when a burst of sexual power erupted from him. “Damn, that’s good. It’s like gingerbread and candy canes and krumkakka.”

“Hmm, a treat from the past and one of my favorites.  And you’re right, I am very good,” he agreed, moving to his feet and languidly closing the distance between them. “Just as I suspect you are.  I want you naked.  Now.”

“I’m not that kind of succubus,” she gasped and made herself step back. “I don’t screw strangers and however delicious you may be, you are still a stranger.”

“It’s against rules,” she told him, a little drunk on power, but still in control.

“Then leave and we’ll get a room,” he replied, stroking the side swell of her breast with only the edge of a finger tip but it could have been a full grope for the impact she felt.

He tilted his head and Rachael braced herself for anger.  Whenever other creatures found out what she was there was wariness.  When they found out she wasn’t going to sleep with them, there were usually consequences.  She’d learned to defend herself in her thirty years on Earth but however much she told herself she didn’t care, being called a tease, slut, whore and devil still hurt.

“Hmm, a succubus with standards,” he finally said and she wanted to revoke her rules when he smiled at her with appreciation and desire. “Rare, especially in this century and for one so young.  Tell me succubus-“

“Rachael,” she interrupted. “My name is Rachael.”

“Pretty name.  It suits you.  I am Nicolas Kringle,” he replied, holding out his hand.

She accepted, the warmth of his palm against hers a smorgasbord of energy, “Seriously?”

“Yes.  Perhaps you haven’t heard that name as your years are so few, fewer than fifty I would assume?” She nodded. “I thought so.  You’re as clean as Christmas snow aren’t you, little Rachael?”

“Not quite,” she said and laughed.

“I know these things.” He tapped his temple before handing her a card. “Naughty and nice is my business and you, my dear, are definitely nice.  I’ll be busy through the twenty-seventh but will return home after.  Look me up if you’re ever in town.”

She watched as he walked out of the room.  She’d never seen a man saunter before and couldn’t imagine any except Nicolas Kringle making it sexy.

She looked at his card and laughed out loud.  Who’d have thought?  Not only did Santa frequent strip clubs, he also lived three blocks from her apartment in New York. 

Merry Christmas Indeed.

 

Pammy muttered to herself as she rifled through her cupboards looking for a missing can of cranberries.  Thanksgiving dinner was T-minus fifty minutes away and she had a set schedule if things were going to be ready when her father arrived.  Since her mother died, every Thanksgiving was the same.  She opened the cans of corn, green beans, carrots and cranberries.  Her father bought a cooked turkey from the deli along with mashed potatoes and a pumpkin pie.  No matter what was happening in their lives, Thanksgiving was their thing and if she didn’t have cranberries there would be hell to pay.

She reached to the very back and with a triumphant shout pulled out a dusty can of jellied berries.  The date was barely good but definitely within use proving once again that she was smart to take advantage of the two for one offers.  She shopped half as often and any time-saver was good.  As a kindergarten teacher and demon slayer, her minutes were at a premium most days and waiting in line to buy toilet paper and cereal pissed her off. 

     The bowls of her offerings were set out and ready to nuke, the small kitchen table set with the finest in paper dishes and a glance at the clock said she’d made it with twenty minutes to spare.  She dumped the cranberries and managed to keep them in their can-ribbed perfection and pulled out one of the long necks she’d bought for her father.  They would, eat, drink and talk about killing demons.  Happy Thanksgiving.

    She was about to turn on the Stones when her trip wire rang.  The fish line across her end of the hall was too low to be tripped over but it alerted her to everything outside her apartment door.  It was never a good thing for a demon hunter to be taken by surprise.  She checked her Blackberry for the instant feed recorder and scowled at the top of a brown head that wasn’t her father.  The stranger smelled human and knocked politely.  Just what she needed, a Jehovah’s Witness or magazine salesman to bug her before her father came.  If Big Jim were here they’d terrorize the interloper together but since it was just her, she’d make it quick.  

    “Delivery for…hell.”

    “Wow, Bricker, still as charming as ever I see,” Pammy said, eye to eye with a set of baby blues she hadn’t seen since high school.

   “Pamela Dickerson.  How did I not put that together?” He held out a warm cardboard box. “Thanksgiving dinner from Jimmy Dickerson.  Happy holidays.”

   “Huh?” She held the box in one arm and grabbed his surprisingly firm bicep with the other. “Did he say anything else?”

     She watched him roll his eyes, the same ones that back in the day had always been below hers but sometime in the last ten years since he’d grown six inches and become shockingly good looking.  He fished out a paper from his coat.

   “There was a message,” he admitted. “’Sorry honey, Uncle Ed’s in town and we’ve got a hunting party by the light of the moon.’  Huh, he shouldn’t be hunting at night.”

   “I see,” she said, undeniably disappointed but if her uncle was in town that meant he was chasing a dangerous demon and needed her dad’s help. “Well, thanks for dropping this off.  I suppose you’d better get back to work.  Do I tip you?  I’ve never had a grocery delivery before.”

    “I’m the owner so don’t worry about the tip,” he said magnanimously. “And you were my last delivery so I’m heading home to watch the game, drink beer and fall asleep in my chair.”

   Her surprise must have shown because he blushed a little and stepped back further into the hall. “Well that was too much information.  It was nice seeing you Pammy, maybe we can do this again in another ten years.”

    “Wait,” she said as he began down her hall. “Are you really just going home to do what you said?  I mean, because if you are then you might as well stay and watch the game while you drink my beer and eat.”

   “Really?” Hesitantly he took a step toward her.

   “Yeah, I mean, I’ve got a ton of food and like you said, it’s been ten years.  Why not catch up?”

---

     Peter looked around the little apartment and wondered why the hell he wasn’t home.  The place was packed with things belonging to a woman he’d barely spoke with in high school.  She’d been a freak and he’d been a loser.  High school common law would have them bonding but she’d been a scary freak and he’d been a wimpy loser.  The decorative knives and swords that didn’t look so decorative hanging above plastic drawers full of craft supplies told him he was once again over his head.

   “So are you still afraid of using public restrooms?” she asked, running the microwave like a pro while he looked at a picture of a bunch of scary looking women and one dog, wait that was just a really hairy woman.  Yikes.

  “Do you still give blow jobs in janitor closets?” he replied and winced.

   She laughed out loud and he was relieved.  His mouth had gotten him in trouble on more than one occasion and freak or not she’d invited him for Thanksgiving when he’d have spent it alone.

   “Not nearly as often as I’d like,” she said, still laughing. “Mostly I teach kindergarteners to read and help Dad with his company in the evenings.  You?”

  “I still prefer to use the bathroom at my house, which I bought last year.  I took over Mr. Harrison’s grocery a couple years ago and have sold my soul to the produce supplier,” he replied and picked up a strange piece of hard, blue plastic. “What is this?”

   “Ah, maybe put that down Bricker.” He scowled at the stupid nickname. “No I’m serious, you don’t want to touch that.”

   “What is it?” he asked, rubbing his hand over the smooth surface.

   “It’s a demon penis.” 

---

   She watched him drop the demon tool like it was hot and bit back a laugh.  He’d found her favorite trophy and now he was wiping his hands on his pants.  Poor guy.  She put the dishes on the table and handed him hand sanitizer.

   “You are still weird as hell, aren’t you?” he muttered, accepting a squirt.

   “Some things you don’t outgrow,” she agreed. “Let’s eat.”

   Pammy couldn’t believe how well Bricker had grown up.  He had great manners and since her dad and most of the men in her life had horrible ones she recognized the thought he put into eating.  He kept his mouth closed unless he was speaking and when he spoke he said things that were moderately intelligent and non-demon related.  For the first time in her life she enjoyed a meal and didn’t resent the fact that wasn’t out hunting, discussing hunting or thinking about slamming the next demon that came across her path.

   “What is that?” Peter asked when her alarm bell rang.

  She caught demon stench and pounced to the door, palming her the knives she had attached at her back. 

   “Whoa,” Peter said but she ignored him, launching out of her apartment door before the demon tried to enter.

   “Hey bitch,” she snarled at the little hunched over ‘woman’ waiting in the hall.

   “Hunter.” The demon’s eerie, toneless voice filled the hall but Pammy didn’t flinch because she was trained not to.  Peter, on the other hand was cursing from her kitchen floor.

  “Don’t you assholes ever learn?” she demanded and launched. 

    The demon didn’t try to run, not that she would have let it.  Mindful of the ordinary humans living down the hall Pammy wasted no time plunging her knives into the demon’s throat even as the creature tried to bite.  Blood poured over her arms, blue, smelly and thick and she loved it.  There was nothing better than being elbow deep in demon guts.  She cut off its head and stood back with a satisfied sigh.

   “What the hell was that?” Peter demanded and she looked over, glad he was no longer withering in pain.

   “Demon,” she answered and pulled out her phone to text in the pickup. “Can you step back for a minute? I can’t leave it in the hall.”

  She pulled it to just inside the kitchen and closed her door.  The grin on her face had to be huge. Her dad said she never looked as happy as she did just after a kill.  Even Peter, who looked a little shocked, pleased her because he wasn’t freaking too badly.

“So?” she asked. “Questions?  Comments?”

“That, that,” he stuttered then she watched as he shook himself. “That was hot.  Can I call you next weekend?”

    “Next weekend?” she said, wiping a glob of blood from her cheek. “Works for me.”