“Not before presents!” Anders calls.
“Fuck,” Locke says, shaking his head. “Does he have superhuman hearing or something?”
Anders’ giggle echoes through the door before it starts to fade as if he’s finally walking away.
“What the fuck,” I mouth to Locke. He shrugs.
But the both of us dutifully freshen up so we can see what new fresh bullshit the Christmas-obsessed fiend outside is planning.
When we step out of the room, we’re met with music I don’t recognize. It’s cheerful and upbeat. The sound of bells echoes in the main area until the sounds fill the room. There are even sound effects through the song.
“Up on the housetop, reindeer paws,
Out jumps good old Santa Claus
Down through the chimney with lots of toys
All for the little ones, Christmas joys.
Ho, ho, ho, who wouldn’t go?
Ho, ho, ho, who wouldn’t go?
Up on the housetop, click, click, click,
Down through the chimney with old Saint Nick.”
My brows shoot up. We have music on Dross. Humanity as a whole enjoy singing and playing instruments, but we only have half-concocted, poorly built instruments with materials we have. Drums are a favorite. This music though? I’ve never heard anything even close to this.
“Merry Christmas!” Anders announces as we walk into the room. “Come! Come! Santa delivered presents last night and there are a few with your names on it.”
I glance at the tree where new shiny packages have been added. “There are?”
Anders’ grin widens. “You must have been on the nice list. I’ll admit, I was a little worried for your Bone Breaker here, but it seems he has made the nice list as well.”
“And what of me?” Svetlana asks, standing taller on my shoulder. “Did Santa bring me a gift?”
Anders looks at the presents and frowns. “Oh . . . uh . . . yes! Right here!” he says, procuring a small gift from who knows where. He certainly didn’t pick it up from the ground. “This one has your name on it, Svetlana.”
She seems to notice the same details as I do, but when she settles on my shoulder, she simply nods and says, “As it should.”
Despite the upbeat music and the cheerful decorations, I can’t help but feel the malice in the room. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the too wide smile Anders wears as he gestures for us to take a seat on the large couch before he starts to pass out the wrapped gifts. He sets four of the wrapped boxes in front of me, each expertly tied with a bow. Locke only gets two, though one of them is larger. Svetlana gets the small gift Anders had procured from nowhere. I stare at my stack nervously.
“You didn’t get any gifts?” I ask Anders when he hovers and doesn’t get any more presents.
He claps his hands. “My apologies. I really love when people open gifts. Gift giving is one of my love languages.” He turns and looks at the gifts under the tree. “This one is for me.”
I don’t see a tag on it like there is for ours. “And what about Gustav?”
Until this point, he hasn’t said a word. He’d been standing against the wall, his eyes wide and blank as he stared at nothing. The moment I say his name, his expression comes to life and he smiles at me, as if my words are like a flipped switch.
“I’m unfortunately on the naughty list this year,” he says. Then he leans forward and whispers conspiratorially, “I had too many bourbons last Christmas and broke one of the Santa pictures.”
I glance at Anders. “But you’re on the nice list?”
“I’m always on the nice list,” Anders nods. “I’m a reallyniceguy actually.”
The way he says, “Nice,” unnerves me. I can’t put my finger on why. Maybe it’s because back in Dross, anyone claiming to be friendly or “nice” were usually just waiting for the perfect moment to stab you in the back.
