Kol tugged his hat back on and grimaced, annoyed that she had gotten him so angry, but there was no use in beating around the spruce. “Anyway, I’m here for your tree.”
“My-my Christmas tree?”
“Yes. I need it, so hand it over.”
“Oh, no, you’re not getting that.” And then she turned away as if the conversation hadn’t even happened which is probably exactly what one deserves when insisting one is a hallucination.
Kol watched her plod through the snow in her too-big boots, momentarily stunned. Humans didnotreact like that to the revelation the world was deeply different from everything they knew—she didn’t even question the frost dragon thing! Except, Kol supposed, at least one human did have that reaction, and he had the awful luck of having to barter with her.
“But I need it!” he called after, cringing at how whiny that had come out—Kol might have been the cause of some whining, but he didnotwhine himself. So he shook out his limbs and caught up, cutting her off.
She faltered backward when he stepped into her path. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have space on the schedule to go get another tree. You’ll have to get your own.” Then she sidestepped him and just kept going.
“You don’t understand.” Kol pivoted quicker than she could track and stopped her just at the forest’s border before the light from the house reached them. “I’m notaskingyou.” Rarely did he use that edge in his voice for true intimidation, but it worked because she recoiled, hugging the dog closer.
“Well, I’m still not giving it to you.” Her voice shook, but a little crease formed between her dark brows. Bold considering how small she was. In fact, her aggression would have been cute if it wasn’t the only thing standing in the way of finished paperwork and the start of his vacation.
“You saw the reindeer—er, fehszar, right? And my ears? How are you not freaking out?”
“I have lasagna in the oven,” she said matter-of-factly and sidestepped him once again. “I don’t have time to freak out because of my overactive imagination.”
He reached out to stop her, but the dog bared its teeth and told him without words to back off. “But she’s being unreasonable,” he said right back, and the terrier’s fluffy brows furrowed over crossing eyes as was the usual reaction the first time something domesticated actually understood spoken language.
“I’m being unreasonable?” She scowled fully and stomped off into the light. “This is crazy!”
“Yes, you’re right, the fact that you cut down a seven-thousand-year-old alcyon spruce and propped it up in your living room as a tinsel holderiscrazy.” He stomped alongside her, gaze flicking up to the cabin that harbored so many other humans. “Before it wreaks havoc on your family, or worse, you kill it, you need to give it back to the forest where it belongs.”
The woman came to an abrupt halt on the first step up to the porch. “But the forest…” The warm, yellow lights from inside fell on her face as it tipped upward in thought, round features going slack once again. Kol could see it as it washed over her, the understanding of what she had done and the relief that everything would be all right when she finally agreed to return the tree.
“No!” She shook her head hard and shot him another scowl. “We don’t even hang tinsel on it—Doc eats the stuff, and you don’t want to know how we have to get it out. Now, quit following me, you’renotcoming inside.”
Kol wasn’t proud of what he was about to do, but what was the point of all those years struggling to learn magic if he wasn’t going to put it to use when needed? As she trampled up the steps, her boots made a racket, but he focused instead on the evergreen shrubs in the planters along the deck and the wreath hanging from under the porch light. They were harmless on their own, tame things that didn’t even know they were already dead. Kol reached out to the threads in the frigid air, finding the ones that would connect him to the plants, and he sent along a reminder that they were not meant to be well-pruned, domesticated things at their cores. He conjured the image of ancient, gnarled tree roots and hulking branches capable of blotting out the sun, and then there was a crack.
The greenery twisted and grew as pot after pot shattered. The woman stopped short as the needly branches crawled toward her, growling dog in her arms. She backed to the edge of the deck, foot slipping off, but Kol pressed a hand into her back to keep her there, eliciting a squeak of abject fear.
“You have a choice,” he growled into her ear. “You give me the tree and nothing bad happens to you and your family, or—”
“Piper, something’s boiling over on the stove, and—oh, hello!”
Kol stood straight, and his adversary would have tumbled right off the porch if he weren’t gripping onto the back of her sweater. A woman stood in the patio doorway looking absolutely delighted as an infinite second passed in silence. Kol raised a hand and gave her a wave, putting on his most docile tone, “Hey.”
Piper smacked his arm out of the air, then just as quickly pulled her hand back and wrapped it around the dog again. He released her, and she shied away, but at least she was no longer on the verge of falling down the steps.
“I didn’t think anyone else was joining us.” The woman’s bright eyes darted between the two, red-painted smile widening as she stepped fully onto the porch. “Oh, my god.Piper.”
“What?” Her eyes went as wide as saucers.
“You finally brought a man to Christmas!”
The young woman, Piper apparently, muttered something, her face falling into equal confusion with the dog’s.
“Well, come on inside! I’m Deb, and you must be Piper’s boyfriend.”
“No, Aunt Deb, this is—”
“That’d be me!” Kol thrust his hand into the stranger’s outstretched one, thought and reason obliterated. “I’m Kol, and it’s a pleasure.”
“It certainly is!” She clasped his hand in both of hers, positively beaming. “I guess I understand now why it took you so long to pick one out, Pippy—you were waiting for him to look likethis.”
