It took me only seconds to reach the prize inside the box. I hugged the tiny gray kitten to my chest and when I’d recovered enough noticed I wasn’t the only one holding a furball. Cillian had an orange feline the size of his hand sitting on his shoulder.
Randy chuckled. “That little bugger sure seems to like you.”
“And that’s why I had to get him,” Gwen added. “The boss was so torn choosing between the two that I contacted the shelter and told them we also wanted the brother.”
“Merry Christmas,” Randy added.
Merry Christmas, indeed.
I spent the time between then and dawn getting to know my kitten and discovered just how special a gift it was, since apparently Cillian used to have a no pet rule.
It turned out to be the best Christmas morning of my life.
And just so you know, Bloodnog—with a hint of ginger and a dash of elven plasma—is absolutely delicious.
Epilogue
A year later, about an hour after the events in the prologue…
* * *
The soft drifting snow enhanced the glowing Christmas lights strung all around the property. I’d kept my promise and gotten home before midnight. Apparently, Cillian had a surprise for me.
I entered the house singing, “I’m home!”
Cillian emerged from the living room and leaned against the wall as I stripped my outer clothing. “How did your evening go?”
“Very well, thank you. The world has one less perv today.” The sound of my voice brought at full speed two furry terrors. I braced as Nut and Meg used their tiny sharp claws to climb my pants and say hello. The pair might no longer be tiny kittens but that didn’t stop them from being psychos.
“Bloodnog?” Cillian offered. “I’ve got a fresh batch waiting in by the fire.”
“Ooh. Yes.” I extricated myself from hooked claws before I joined Cillian in the living room where our mangled tree partially leaned. The poor twelve-foot pine had been through a feline war that had yet to end. The cats raced through my legs almost putting me on my ass. They’d spotted their nemesis and went to see if they could find an ornament to destroy.
I collapsed on the couch and snagged the mug of nog Cillian handed over before he joined me.
“Merry Christmas, my love, and happy anniversary,” Cillian murmured as we cuddled in front of the crackling fire.
“The happiest of Christmas’ to you too, stud muffin,” the name I’d given him because it actually turned his cheeks red the first time I said it in front of Randy and Gwen.
Cillian snorted. “It’s a wonder we made it a year with you calling me that.”
“Admit it, you love it.”
“I love you. That’s the only reason I tolerate it.”
I laughed. “Fair enough.” I sipped my Bloodnog and watched our little furry terrors as they poked their heads in and out of the tree.
“It’s after midnight. Ready for your present?”
“Is it long and hard?” I teased.
His chuckle vibrated against the top of my head. “Always. But I’m talking about a real present. I think you’ll really like this.”
“Where is it?” A glance at the tree showed nothing under its mangled boughs. I’d hidden Cillian’s gift in our bedroom so the cats wouldn’t destroy it. It took me months, but I’d gotten my hands on some vintage plasma recently excavated from an ancient Egyptian tomb.
“My gift is not something you can technically unwrap.”
“Ooh. Now I’m intrigued.”
