Magic & Mistletoe: 15 Paranormal Stories for the Holidays Read online

  “Aren’t you going to get that?” Frank asked.

  “I…don’t know,” I said, “I should.”

  “Maybe you should…or maybe you should let it go to voicemail.”

  “What if it’s urgent?”

  “Or what if he’s going to give you some half-assed excuse about how he missed the party, apologize, and tell you he’ll see you at home?”

  “I’d be pretty pissed if he did that.”

  “Right, and you’ve still got two wishes left. So, what’s it gonna be? You gonna answer, or are you going to take your other wishes?”

  I wanted to answer. He was still calling, so he clearly wanted to talk to me. The last time I had heard from him he had told me he would be meeting friends but would still make the party. He worked in the financial industry, big part of his job involved socializing and meeting people, but he knew that tonight was supposed to be about my career not his.

  I mean, who the hell did he work for? Ebenezer Scrooge?

  The phone rang out and the screen went black.

  “Damn,” I said, staring at it.

  “Were you going to answer it anyway?”

  “I… don’t know. I could call him back.”

  “Before you do that, how about you tell me what your second wish would be? Hypothetically speaking.”

  I bit the tip of the straw, looking at the phone, then up at Frank. “I want to see New York from somewhere tall. Park Avenue, maybe.”

  “I can do that,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “But you can’t call him if we’re going to go there—this is just you, me, and your wishes.”

  “Let me think about it,” I said.

  Frank went quiet and had another sip of his milkshake. As I waited, deciding whether to call Dan back, a message came through from him.

  Dan: Where are you? I’m at the place but I can’t find you. Your agent said she saw you leave? I’m really sorry I was late. Please tell me you’re coming back…

  I slid my finger across the screen and unlocked it to read the message in the editor. That was all he had written. I thought back to how long it had been since I left the place. Half an hour? It couldn’t have been much more than that. I could head back, I thought, salvage what’s left of this night.

  “That’s a tough one,” Frank said, “But the choice is yours.”

  “I hate making decisions,” I said.

  “Yeah, I figured that. Anyway, clock’s ticking. What are you gonna do?”

  “I have to go back,” I said, finishing the last of my milkshake. “I owe it to him to hear him out.”

  “You don’t owe him anything,” Frank said, “But if that’s what you want.”

  I went to stand. “How, uh… do I get back?”

  “Same way we came in.”

  “Is…the portal still there?”

  “It will be when you get to the door.”

  I glanced over at the kitchen, then back at Frank. “Why did you do this for me?” I asked. “What was this all about?”

  Frank shrugged. “I’m a sucker for a girl in distress?”

  “I don’t buy it.”

  “My motives were pure, I assure you.”

  “Whatever they were,” I said, “Thank you…really. I had to get out of there.”

  He raised his milkshake to me as if he was toasting something. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, witch.”

  A smile broke upon my face. “I’ll see you around, Frank.”

  He smiled too. “Maybe. Maybe.”

  I turned, headed through the kitchen, and pulled open the door I had stepped through moments ago, not sure whether I wanted it to lead to the bar bathroom or the back-office of this little establishment.

  I took a breath, pushed the door handle down, and pulled the door open. The men’s room lay beyond the threshold; urinals along the left, a line of sinks along the right. I stepped through, noticing my insides tingle as they had done the first time, and didn’t spare another second in leaving the gent’s.

  The bar was heavy with the voices of even drunker patrons. I walked through the crowd, fighting my way to the exit, and broke into the cold, white street. The event was a couple of blocks down, but even in my heels I made the trip in only a few minutes. Not enough time to properly prepare myself for what was about to happen.

  My stomach twisted into a knot as I walked through the front doors of the hotel lobby and into the party area where my book launch event was still in full swing. Photographers had arrived and seemed to be gathered together near the bar, maybe getting drinks in between taking shots of the event. Janice, my agent, came into view and shot me a wide, alarmed eyes kind of look. I avoided her and went to find Dan. I knew where he would be.

  At the bar.

  Dan must have felt my presence because he turned around to look at me. He had his blond hair slicked back and was wearing a black tux, complete with a bow tie. His brown eyes were on me in a heartbeat, and for a moment I felt like I was at his mercy. Dan was handsome, dashing; classically good-looking.

  But the guy had been a jerk tonight.

  My wits returned to me and I resumed my march toward him. He approached, his hands out as if to hug me. “I’m so sorry,” he said, “Really, my friends just—”

  “You knew you had to be here,” I said, my voice trembling. “I waited over an hour for you to arrive.”

  “Yeah, and then you left. You left your own party.”

  “You’re not helping your case.”

  “I’m just saying. I was an hour late, tops. I was at the Junction bar with the guys from my work.”

  “Look, I really don’t care. You were supposed to be here. Tonight was my night; for me. I only asked for this one night, and you couldn’t even give me that. Are your job and your friends more important to you than me?”

  “I—”

  “You know what, don’t answer that. We both know the truth.”

  “Are you going to let me speak?”

  “Speak,” I said to Dan.

  “I couldn’t get out of work any earlier, okay?”

  “It’s Christmas Eve.”

  “I know, okay? And I know tonight was your thing, but I got here as fast as I could.”

  “I wanted you with me. Here. By my side. Supporting me like I’ve supported you all these years.”

  “Supported me?” he asked. “Who pays rent?”

  “That’s not what I—”

  “Who buys the food? Who pays bills?”

  “That’s not fair. I put my life on hold for you! I wanted to travel and live somewhere else but you had to stay in New York!”

  “You could have traveled on your own.”

  “You wouldn’t even let me go to Vegas for Amy’s bachelorette. There was no fucking chance you’d let me go to Paris on my own!”

  Dan pressed his lips together tightly. “No,” he said, “But a—” His phone rang, cutting him off. Instantly Dan went to pick it up, but then he stopped and looked at me.

  My heart was racing. Thumping.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “It’s my boss,” he said.

  “Are you going to answer it?” I asked.

  “I have to.”

  “You don’t. You have a choice, but you’re choosing to answer it. He knows where you are, what you’re doing, who you’re with.”

  “And if he’s calling about the promotion?” he asked, “What then?”

  “The choice is yours,” I said.

  Dan swiped right to answer and put the phone to his ear. I turned away and left my own party for the second time that night. I didn’t care what they thought. Janice tried to block me, but I was out and gone before she could find a spot to set her glass down.

  Frank may have been gone, but I wanted to go and get my second wish before the night was over.

  432 Park Avenue, the second tallest building in New York. I approached the edge of the building and stared over the rooftop railing, letting my eyes fall across the city. To the right, miles of glittering light
s and snow; to the left was Central Park—frozen, dark. Deadly.

  Frank was waiting.

  I smiled when I saw him and walked over to where he was, crossing into a bubble of warming magick that made my chest tingle. He was sitting at a small, plastic table and lounging on a white, plastic chair that belonged on a beach, not on a skyscraper. I sat down on the empty chair next to him and he pushed over a steaming burger wrapped in foil and a beer.

  “Life’s too short,” he said, “Dig in like no one’s watching.”

  I peeled the wrapper open and bit off a delicious mouthful before speaking. “I’m glad you waited,” I said.

  “I didn’t have much else to do. Besides, I knew you’d be back.”

  “You knew?”

  “Someone comes along and grants you three wishes, you’re gonna come back and get them no matter who you are.”

  “You know that isn’t why I came, right?”

  He looked over at me and cocked both his eyebrows. “Witch, please,” he said. “I know why you’re here. You’re here because you’ve realized that you don’t need him, that you have all the success you want and that you made it all without him. I think you just needed a little push to help you see it.”

  “You were that push.”

  He nodded, raising the beer as if to cheer. “It’s what I do.”

  “Really? You go around making people realize things they didn’t otherwise know?”

  A smile spread across his lips. “Someone saved my life once; gave me my three wishes.”

  “Really? Who?”

  “That’s not important; what’s important is that you know all I did was provide you with a little perspective. You came here on your own.”

  I nodded and took another bite.

  “Which brings me to my next item,” he said.

  I chewed and swallowed. “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Your third wish.”

  I thought about it, but didn’t have to think for long. The answer was there, on the tip of my tongue, and had been for a while.

  “I want to get out of here,” I said. “I think I want to go to New Orleans.”

  “New Orleans?” Frank asked. “What’s out there?”

  “Magick,” I said, “It’s a fantastical city, old and full of culture and history. I’ve always wanted to go but Dan never wanted to travel.”

  “Well, I hate to break it to you but I’m fresh out of long-distance portals.”

  “That’s ok,” I said. “When I go down there, I want to go the right way. Dan can come with me if he wants, or stay here and work.”

  “You have to go and get what you want. What’s the point in having money and success if it doesn’t make you happy?”

  “You’re right.”

  “Of course I am,” he said, taking another drink.

  We finished the rest of our food and our beers in silence and moved to stand over the railings, watching the city unfold beneath us. “I’ll miss it here,” I said.

  “Miss it?”

  “I’m going to New Orleans, aren’t I?”

  “I see. You aren’t exactly planning a vacation, are you?”

  I shook my head. “It won’t be easy, Dan will resist, but I think I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to grab that third wish one way or another.”

  “Well, you know what they say, there’s no time like the present. Consider the wish as good as yours.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “And thanks again.”

  “It was nothing.”

  “No, it was everything.” I turned my head to look at him. “You’re like the ghost of Christmas present.”

  “I’m certainly pale enough.”

  I laughed and turned my eyes to fall over the city again. One way or another, this was going to be my last Christmas in New York. No looking back. No regrets.

  About the Author

  Katerina Martinez is an up-and-coming author who writes supernatural fiction with a creepy, thrilling, and romantic bent. Though she has been writing for a couple of years, her success recently exploded with the release of “Dark Siren”, the first book in the breakout “Half-Lich” Trilogy which became an instant bestseller in 2016.

  She follows the “Half-Lich” series with the “Blood and Magick” series—a story about a young writer who, in the aftermath of a brutal breakup, moves to a magickal new city in the hopes of rediscovering herself. The story you have just read is a prequel to the first book in this upcoming new series, and is available nowhere else. In the book, entitled “Magick Reborn”, we pick up after Madison makes her move to New Orleans and watch her as she settles in, meets the local witches, and discovers a terrible, deadly secret hiding right under her nose.

  If you would like to keep in touch with Katerina, learn about her work, and get notified when “Magick Reborn” launches (at $0.99) sometime in January, just follow this link and sign up and don’t be shy to drop her an email:

  SUBSCRIBE!

  Meanwhile, why don’t you pick up a copy of Dark Siren on Amazon? If you like a creepy read with a lot of action and a very real, conflict-ridden romantic arc, this complete trilogy is for you! Here’s the link:

  Dark Siren Amazon Link

  A Stone’s Throw Christmas

  Hailey Edwards

  A Stone’s Throw Christmas

  by Hailey Edwards

  Copyright © 2016 by Hailey Edwards

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  A Stone’s Throw Christmas

  As I polished off my bottle of water, the tingle of awareness that was the mate bond danced over my skin, and I angled my chair toward the door. I was capping the empty and tossing it into the recycling bin when Graeson strolled into his office to find me sitting behind his desk. He spotted me, having known I was here all along, and leaned his shoulder against the frame, crossing his sleekly muscled arms over a chest that did sinful things to his plain white T-shirt. Thick black bands of ink encircled his wrists, and towering forests sprouted from them to grow up his forearms. I loved those tattoos. Almost as much as the man wearing them.

  He cocked his head, no doubt sensing my turmoil. “Go for a run?”

  He made it a simple request, one I could deny. Not that I ever had. Not after I understood what the red silk blindfold unfurling from his pocket meant. At least not until today.

  “We need to talk.” I smoothed the wrinkled paper I’d been carrying in my pocket for a week over his desk, careful to keep it face-down. “This is important.”

  “This is too.” The material made a soft sigh as he pulled the length through his fingers. “Run with me.”

  All too eager for any reason to avoid this conversation for a while longer, I refolded the paper and tucked it back in my pocket for the next time I summoned enough courage to confront him. “Okay.”

  A warg asking his mate to go for a run in the woods all but cues the Barry White music among wargs, and I swear the whole pack hears the tune blasting through the pack bond. Or maybe it’s the pheromones Graeson throws off when he gets in these moods messing with my head. I can get drunk on the smell of him, and I have no plans to battle that addiction.

  “You haven’t moved,” he pointed out, low growl rising up the back of his throat.

  That raw edge, tempered with need, raised hairs down my nape. It was the husky voice he used when I imagined him playing Big Bad to my Little Red. Why else the crimson blindfold?

  I rose and circled the desk, and a crooked smile hooked up one corner of his mouth, like I had given him a gift by agreeing to play the game when I got the prize no matter who we named the winner.

  He offered me the blindfold. “You know the rules.”

  “I do.” An answering grin creased my cheeks. “I reach the creek first, and I win. You reach the creek first, and I
also win.”

  Amused by my summation, he nodded that I had the right of it.

  “Can I bribe you for a five second head start?” Not that I needed one. Win or lose, this was my favorite game now too.

  “Agent Ellis,” he rumbled. “You are delightfully corrupt.”

  “Long-term exposure to wargs.” I shrugged. “There are pamphlets on it and everything. They hand them out in meetings to protect innocent fae souls, such as myself, from falling victim to the wild lusts of wargs.”

  A flicker of uncertainty tightened the skin around his eyes, and I read the worry there with the ease of someone lucky enough to know their mate from the inside out—no psychic bond required.

  “Work is fine.” Oh, the pamphlets were real. Fae and wargs were not meant to mate. But my soul had never been innocent. If anything, Graeson had given me the redemption I had given up hope of earning. “I’m teasing.”

  “You and I are a cautionary tale.” He straightened, uncrossing his arms and curving his hands around my hips. “I don’t want you to start believing the propaganda.”

  I stiffened in his hold, my stomach tightening. “You think I’m that gullible?”

  “No.” He lowered his voice. “But the job was your life for a lot of years before me, and I don’t want you to have to choose.”

  Unspoken was his fear I might choose the badge, my job as a special agent with the Earthen Conclave, over the pack. Over him.

  Silly wolf.

  As if I would give up on the best thing in my life without a fight. As if I would give up the man who owned my soul, period. Cord Graeson was mine. I was a little bit wolf too these days, thanks to my time with the pack, and there was nowhere he could run that I couldn’t find him should he ever get noble on me and push me away for my own good.