Daddy Claws by Sable Sylvan

Author:Sable Sylvan [Sylvan, Sable]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: www.sablesylvan.com
Published: 2018-12-17T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Christmas Eve, 2016

He’d cut it close this year. He was usually the first one changed for The Ride, but this year, when the first ice elemental was getting their assigned shift, Dasher, he was still looking at it.

The Nice List.

Right on the top, in bright, red, there was a name — Santa Claus.

He’d prefer if it said Santana, not just ‘Santa.’

He’d prefer it had gotten there under better circumstances.

His name was off of The Naughty List, which was written in green that year. Every year, Santana switched the colors of the list. Some years, The Naughty List was written in red ink, and some years, it was written in green ink. When it was written in red ink. The Nice List was written in green ink. When it was written in green ink, The Nice List was written in red ink.

Back and forth, like a tennis ball, the colors switched between the lists, back and forth, year after year.

Red. Green. Red. Green. Red. Green.

It was just more proof that some things in the world weren’t just black and white…and people weren’t just Nice or Naughty. Santana had been Nice, and then Naughty, and was now Nice again. He was the same man, with an arbitrary label on his ass.

What was missing was not a thing, but a person, on his arm.

What was missing was Befana.

Santana had known he was on The Nice List before he went to see the lists. After all, he’d been able to fly his frikkin’ sleigh. That was what all this had been about before — getting to ride his sleigh for The Ride.

Befana had been right. That was how things had started.

Maybe she’d been right to leave again.

Santana had walked back to the flight lounge, to change into his red velvet flight suit. Year after year that didn’t change. As he got ready to put on his top, he pulled down his pants one last time, to see it — the Krampus Trampus Stampus.

Santana looked at the mark in the mirror. It’d changed, but so many things hadn’t — like Befana. She’d run again before they could even try to work things out.

“Nice ass,” said a deep voice. Santana quickly pulled his pants up and turned.

“Krampus?” said Santana. “What the fuck are you doing here? In my private changing area?”

“Get it? ‘Nice’ ass, because your ass has the word ‘Nice’ written across it?” asked Krampus with a chuckle. “You excited for The Ride tonight?”

“I’m ready for it if that’s what you mean,” said Santana.

“Not worried you’ll be rusty, given you weren’t able to fly the sleigh for a few weeks?” asked Krampus.

“Tried it this morning, worked fine,” said Santana gruffly, pulling on the rest of his red velvet tracksuit for The Ride.

“I know — apparently, you were out flying it for hours,” said Krampus. “You flying from something, Santana?”

“What, like some kind of Christmas dragon?” asked Santana with a frown.

“Well, last time I checked, Befana wasn’t a were-dragon, but, she does fly on a broomstick…” started Krampus.

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