Unholy Nights: A Twisted Christmas Anthology (5 page)

"She makes charms and works spells," Julie said. "Supposedly, she's super good at it. She's some kind of psychic witch or something."

Now I believe in psychics and witches about as much as I believe in Santa Claus, so I really didn't want to visit this "herbal supply shoppe." But it was such a novelty to see Julie desperate over a guy that I drove us to this woman's establishment in a nearby town.

The shop wasn't quite as odd as I'd been expecting. It was a small health foods store, decorated for the holidays with pine wreaths and other greenery alight with tiny green and blue lights strung around the display cases. There were no sleighs or elves, but I did see a picture of a winter stag hanging over the counter in the back. The Horned God? Maybe, although it wasn't super obvious. One case was full of flowers, including red winter roses that gave off a strong yet delicate scent.

The narrow aisles of the store were filled with shelves of staples like stone ground grains, cereals, nuts, beans and organic veggies. One corner was devoted to herbal tinctures and pills, aromatherapy vials and homeopathic remedies. But it was to the rear of the shop that Julie led me.

There was a plain wooden counter back there and behind it was a skinny woman who looked about forty. She had long, straight silver hair and dark eyes with lots of eye shadow. Although she was dressed like a college student in a t-shirt and jeans, she managed to look exotic. Maybe even sinister. Her long nails were painted black and her lipstick was the same color, making her look as if her mouth was coated with dried blood. She had a sharp nose and a small silver hoop through her septum. Nothing I hadn't seen before around campus, but there was something creepy about her all the same.

"Hi," Julie said. "Are you D'arcania?"

D'arcania? I almost spit.

"That's me. How can I help you?"

"There's this guy," Julie began.

"There usually is," D'arcania cut in. "Charm or curse? Love or revenge?"

"Love." Julie glanced at me. "My friend might want revenge, though."

"I do not," I said, although there was a tiny part of me that perked up at the thought of revenge. "And I'll tell you right now that I don't believe in charms, curses, or whatever."

D'arcania rolled her eyes as if she'd heard that a million times before. "So you both want love. Potions or charms?'

"Do the potions have a strong taste?" Julie asked. I had an image of her pouring a dark, thick, evil-smelling liquid into Professor Jeff's holiday punch.

"Strong enough that you'd want to disguise it. Tequila usually works. Vodka not so much."

"What kind of charms do you have? And how do they work? This is for a Christm—er, Solstice party. But we don't want to charm everybody, just the two men."

"Can you get these guys alone at this party?"

"I hope so," Julie said fervently.

"I've got some enchanted mistletoe. Just came in this morning. Put it up in some dark corner and lure the guys under it, one at a time, of course, and you should see some powerful results."

Enchanted mistletoe. Jeez. "Why enchanted mistletoe?" I asked, just to be obnoxious. "Any kind of mistletoe ought to work for stealing a kiss at Christmas."

"I want more than just a kiss," said Julie.

"Trust me, this stuff will ensure you get a
lot
more than a kiss. I'll get it. It's in the back." She vanished behind a dark blue curtain embroidered with a wolf howling at the moon. While we waited, Julie and I caught each other's eye. I couldn't help smiling. She was bouncing again, thrilled at the thought of enchanting her beloved professor.

D'arcania reappeared holding a small packet that she laid on the counter before us. It was a bushy sprig of mistletoe, mostly olive-colored leaves with a few shiny white berries. There was a red string binding the stems with a small square card hanging off it. It looked like ordinary mistletoe to me. "You'll get more than you bargain for with this," she told us, her black nails tapping loudly on the counter top.

"Fine. We'll take it," I said, tired of all the witchy nonsense. Jeff had told us to bring something that was a symbol of the season, and mistletoe certainly fit the bill. I handed over my credit card. I knew Julie was always cash poor at this time of year. She tended to run through her monthly allowance long before the month ended.

As D'arcania was writing up our purchase, Julie, easily distracted, wandered off to look at some of the other stuff in the store. Wicca Lady said to me, "You seem like the sensible one here. You better watch her and tell her to be careful with this stuff. Its berries are poisonous, you know."

"We're not planning to bake mistleberry pie."

"I'd be remiss if I didn't warn you that this came from our hoard of deepest magicks. You both need to remember that, and exercise caution."

"Right," I said, trying not to sound too sarcastic.

D'arcania seemed to feel she hadn't sufficiently made her point, because she added, "I didn't work the spell on this myself. I got it from this other practitioner." She paused dramatically before adding, "She's into some dark stuff. Her spells are powerful. And they last."

If I hadn't already turned over my plastic, I'd have thought she was trying to jack up the price. But she was opening a cute red holiday bag, about to lay the mistletoe inside. She stopped and leaned over, squinting at the small card attached to it. "Read the spell," she said, nodding to an inscription in spidery handwriting.

I read it aloud:

Wanting, yearning, merge you must

Your Longest Nights filled with lust

Passion shared and bodies trussed

Each cold solstice til you're dust.

"Bodies trussed? Sounds kinky."

"It's a potent invocation," she insisted.

It sounded puerile to me, but I didn't say so. "Merge you must" was downright Yoda-esque.

"All magic has a price," she added.

I sighed and nodded. I signed the credit card slip.

6. Solstice Games

"Oh my god, isn't it perfect? Look at this place. It could have been used as the setting for one of those old Christmas cards from early in the last century, with Christmas carolers and sleigh rides."

Julie was flying high with her professor-crush when we got to Professor Slayton's place on the night of the party. From the way she enthused about the man, everything he did was wonderful and perfect, his home and his holiday decorations included.

His house did look pretty, I had to admit. It had snowed lightly during most of the day, but the clouds had been swept away by evening, and a nearly full moon was rising above the tree line behind the professor's rambling old house. The moonlight gave the snow a silvery sheen, brightening the night so all the details of the landscape were visible. The house itself looked old, but well maintained, with warm yellow paint and shiny black shutters framing its many windows. In each window gleamed a single white candle. There were holly garlands wound around the pillars holding up the broad front porch, with tiny red lights twinkling among them, like shiny berries.

Through the uncurtained front windows, we could see the living room, with a roaring fireplace and a large Christmas tree, fully decorated and blazing with electric candles. We could also see people inside, buzzing and chattering. By the time Julie and I arrived, which was not as late as I'd proposed because Julie had been so impatient to start the evening, there were numerous cars parked on the broad, plowed-out area at the end of the private drive that led to Slayton's house. He clearly owned a few acres of land. Off to one side and curving behind the house were several rows of squat trees configured like an orchard. There were woods to the back and fields on the other sides. The place must have been a working farm at some point in the past, although I doubted the professor worked it now.

I parked beside the other cars, studying them all, looking for Will's. It wasn't there. I panicked a little before reminding myself that we were early. He'd probably show. He might even get a ride from somebody else. But no. I remembered him telling me on our one night together that he was always the designated driver because he wasn't fond of drinking. Another thing we had in common. We had so much in common. Why the hell hadn't he called?

Julie and I emerged into the snow, which had mostly been cleared. Good thing, too, since we had seriously dressed up for this party. We were wearing non-snow-proof shoes. While I like nice shoes as much as the next girl, Julie could have out-Carried Carrie Bradshaw in the shoes department. Since we happened to wear the same size, she had fixed me up with a pair of three-inch stilettos that I was sure were going to kill me before the night was out.

I was wearing a little black dress of my own, short, tight, and low in both front and back. I'd been afraid I wouldn't be able to squeeze into it, since obsessing over Will had been accompanied by a mysterious desire for an excessive amount of dark chocolate. But it still fit. Those long runs to the far side of campus to cruise by Will's dorm must have burned off the extra chocolate calories.

I'd spent a lot more time than usual blow-drying my hair, trying to put a little wave into it, always a challenge. I'd also taken extra care with my make-up and jewelry, neither of which I ever bothered with around campus. I thought I looked nice, considering what I had to work with. Julie outshone me, but I was used to that.

She was wearing Christmas red—a short slinky dress that looked awesome on her. I'm tall and lanky in build, with long arms and legs, but Julie has the hourglass figure that most girls can only fantasize about. With her golden-blonde hair and her huge turquoise eyes, I seriously wondered how any man could resist her. Poor Jeff Slayton, who could get fired for not resisting her, was probably doomed.

When we got to the front door, which had been covered by an enormous sheet of red foil wrapping paper and hung with a mammoth fir wreath, it opened as if by magic. There stood Professor Jeff, who was tall, blond and pretty goddamn hot, with this gorgeous brunette standing beside him, tucked in close to his side. She was no student either; she was clearly older than we were. I could feel Julie wilting beside me as he grinned broadly and said, "Merry Christmas and happy Solstice. Come in, come in."

Holy shit, he had a girlfriend. Maybe even a wife. Well, look at him, I thought, he's hardly your average dorky professor. Of course he's got someone. What had Julie been thinking?

Julie, to her credit, kept her smile. She was rewarded a few seconds later when introductions revealed that the brunette was an old friend of Jeff's named Kate, who was here with a guy of her own. She turned out to be a repertory actress from Boston who'd gone to college with Jeff. Julie's eyes glowed when she heard this, and she pumped the woman's hand harder than necessary and even gave her a hug.

As for me, I was trying to be as polite as possible while searching the gigantic foyer and adjoining living room for Will, in case he had arrived in somebody else's car, after all. I didn't see him; in fact, I didn't see anyone I knew, which made me anxious. Was I going to have to talk to all these strangers? It was bad enough that I was already hyperventilating at the thought of encountering Will and trying to talk to
him
. What if he took one look at me and fled?

When I felt Professor Jeff's hand lightly slap my back just below the border of my dress, I let out a startled sound. What was he
doing
? For a crazy instant I thought I was going to have to say, "No, dude, chill. It's Julie you're supposed to break the college rules with, not me."

"Sorry," he said, grinning. "It's just a sticker. Don't worry, it won't mark your dress. I asked before I bought them."

"A sticker?"

He whirled around to show me the one on his own back, explaining, "Icebreaker. Everybody's got the name of a famous person on their back. You have to question the folks around you until you guess who you are."

The paper on his back said "Hermione."

"Do you know who you are?" I asked.

"No clue. I've been too busy answering the door. But go on in and mingle. When you figure out who you are, have someone fix you up with another identity." He showed me a red Santa's stocking full of inscribed stickers. "There are a lot more characters inside, and they get harder as the evening progresses."

At first I thought this was lame, but it turned out to be fun. Even for a socially awkward person like me, it's easy to go up to someone and say,

"Hi! Am I a man or a woman?"

"Yes or no questions only."

"Okay, am I a woman?"

"No."

"Am I a real person?"

"Depends on what you mean by real."

I was seeing some real people like Henry VIII, Eric Clapton and Hillary Clinton, but I also saw some fictional characters like Scarlett O'Hara, Han Solo, and Buffy Summers.

"Am I alive as opposed to existing in a work of art?"

"No," a laughing woman said.

"Not anymore," said a laughing man who was gulping a cup of Christmas punch.

Okay, I was a dead celebrity. But before I could discover anything more, I had to answer the questions of all the other people around me who were trying to guess the names on their backs. Some guessed their slapped-on identities quickly, but others were content to use the icebreaker for what it was and engage in other types of cocktail party chat. Most of us, it turned out, didn't know each other, although everyone had some connection with our host, who was, it seemed, Mr. Congeniality.

Julie, who had somehow managed to take over helping Jeff open the door and welcome guests from Kate, the old friend, was wearing a sticker that declared her to be Baron von Richthofen. I wondered if she even knew who he was. If I hadn't been a history major, I didn't think I'd have known. She didn't seem too worried about guessing, though. She was thrilled that Professor Jeff was allowing her to help him greet people. He had probably done it so his friend Kate could return to her scary-looking boyfriend Daniel, who was holding up one wall with an "I-don't-know-what-to-do-at-parties" look on his face that I could easily relate to.