A Christmas Demon for Clara by Chloe Alice Balkin

Author:Chloe Alice Balkin [Balkin, Chloe Alice]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-09T16:00:00+00:00

"That's so cool!" Ramellen cooed as Clara strung royal icing garland along the eaves. "Is it hard to do? What happens when it breaks? Locke, did you see this craziness that Clara's…?" Her voice fell off on a flat tone when she looked up at Locke. "Will you excuse us?" she said more quietly to Clara.

Clara nodded. She was enjoying her evening with Ramellen far more than she'd figured she would, and Ramellen had proved to be talented in the decorating department, but draping the royal icing took a delicate hand and a table that wasn't shaking, and it definitely didn't need Ramellen's rapid-fire questions.

She did keep an ear tuned to the hushed tones coming from the dining room, not because she liked eavesdropping but because that was part of life with Eloise and Hazel. Breaking their fights up efficiently meant cluing in to those fights when they were still in the casual disagreement phase. She couldn't hear much from the pair of demons, though, except that Ramellen was urging Locke to admit something that he wouldn't, and she was urging him to tell Clara something, which he also wouldn't.

She heard the word aionia, that demon word for spouse that had been bantered about so much the night before, and that got Locke angry.

Did Locke have an aionia? The repulsion Druxel had shown over the thought of taking another bed partner seemed convincing enough, but that could have been unique to Druxel and Ramellen. And Locke had the ability to draw those portals. If he wanted to hide an affair, it would be as easy as drawing a door.

Clara wasn't going to sleep with Locke. She wasn't going to allow herself to fall for him again. This was none of her business.

She hummed a Christmas carol to herself to drown out the conversation. As the last strand of royal icing connected to the first, she heard the front door open and Locke and Ramellen walk outside.

No big deal, except she didn't have anything to do while the icing was setting and the meringue decorations cooled in the oven, so she figured she'd make dinner. She needed to know if Ramellen was staying.

She peeked her head outside, figuring Locke wouldn't yell at her when he was there anyway, except he wasn't. She scanned the long front porch with its swing and patio dining set and saw nothing. She closed the door behind her and looked out at the yard.

Such as it was. It was dead except for some wicked looking moss and rocky, shattered in places by valleys that might have been sinkholes. On one side of the house was the vegetation she'd found for the ill-fated wreath. Even that first day she'd thought it was hideous, but anything could be made pretty if one tried hard enough.

She walked away from that, not wanting to give Locke a reason to strip her down for the shower again, this time heading toward the stream that ran along the other side. "Locke? Ramellen? Do you guys want dinner?"

"Clara," a voice called to her from the river.

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