“And you turn into reindeer.” My voice was barely a whisper. “Nine reindeer.”
Dane’s expression brightened. “She’s figuring itout!”
“My dad...” The words I wanted to say felt right but wrong, like something was stopping me from saying them.
Dash shook his head, his expression guarded. “We can’t tell you directly. You have to remember on your own.”
“Remember what?” Frost began forming beneath my feet, spreading outward.
“Your joy.” Dane’s playful demeanor softened into something gentler. “You need to find your joy again so you can return home.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. “Home?”
“We can take you as far north as the magic allows. Only you can unlock the part of you that is required to go to…” He stopped for a moment, as if he couldn’t find the correct word. “Jingle.”
Jingle. It wasn’t the first time one of them had said something about where my parents worked.
“We’ll help you get to where you belong,” Dane added softly.
I stared at the crystalline frost pattern expanding beneath me, feeling both terrified and oddly relieved. “And if I don’t want to go?”
Dash and Dane exchanged glances.
Dane rubbed the back of his neck. “Then the damage might be permanent.”
Chapter 7
Herd Meeting
The two-hour drive back to Palm Springs had given me plenty of time to construct elaborate theories about my apparent supernatural awakening.
My plan was simple: close all the blinds, turn off my phone, and pretend the outside world didn’t exist for the next twenty-four hours. Maybe forty-eight. Or however long it took for reindeer men to stop appearing in my life.
I’d barely set my bag down when three firm knocks echoed through my living room.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I froze, keys still dangling from my fingertips.
The knocks came again, more insistent this time.
A normal person would ignore it. A smart person would call the police. I, however, apparently possessed neither quality because I marched to the door and yanked it open with enough force to rattle the hinges.
“What now? Is the Easter Bunny waiting to tell me I’m secretly related to?—”
The words died in my throat as I stared up—because yes,up—at the man on my doorstep. He stood there as if he’d been casually waiting for hours, hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable save for one arched eyebrow. He had cool ivory skin and short black hair.
But it was his eyes that made my stomach drop. Slate gray with the same unsettling intelligence I’d seen in the park.
The reindeer.
“You.” I gripped the door frame to steady myself.
He inclined his head slightly, a gesture both polite and somehow smug at the same time.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re absurdly tall? What are you, like six-foot-ten?” I was five-foot-nine, and he had more than a foot on me.
“Seven feet.” His voice was deep, rumbling like distant thunder. “May I come in?”
I glanced behind him at my quiet suburban street, wondering what my neighbors would think if they saw me inviting Bigfoot’s better-dressed cousin into my home.
