A Touch of Mistletoe (18 page)

"That's it." M.C. stood, brushing off their knees. "I am going out there and dealing with this thing." They turned to where their stuff still lay piled nearby. An-An scrambled up as well. M.C. dug more herbs and mistletoe out of the grocery bag and piled them into a small metal mixing bowl. They looked back at An-An. "I want you to stay here."

"No way am I letting you face that demon on your own." An-An crossed her arms over her chest.

"It's too dangerous, it's already attacked you." M.C. put the bowl, herbs, and mistletoe into a grocery bag, and shoved a pack of matches into their pocket before heading for the front hall.

An-An trailed behind. "I'm wearing mistletoe, I've drunk my tea, and I know to stay out of the way."

M.C. looked up at her while shrugging on their coat. "I don't want you to get hurt." They yanked on their boots and then straightened to reach up to touch An-An's face. "It scared the shit out of me to see you kneeling there in the snow. If I hadn't noticed you were gone when I did, if I'd stayed in the house a few minutes longer—"

"The mistletoe hurt it, kept it from eating me." An-An looped her arms around M.C.'s waist and pulled them close. "I love you, I don't know what I'd do if something happened out there and I didn't know or couldn't help because I was busy sitting in here."

M.C. drew in a long breath, looking up at An-An, and for a moment An-An thought they were going to refuse again. "Okay," M.C. said finally. "But stay close and if I say run, you make for the house as fast as you can, understood?"

"Yes." An-An nodded.

M.C. let go and made for the kitchen again, while An-An pulled on her boots and coat.

She straightened up as M.C. came back into the hall and did a double take when she saw what M.C was carrying. "Is that a wreath?" It wasn't a huge or showy thing, a circle of greenery dotted through with enough white berries: a whole wreath of mistletoe. "I'm not wearing a Christmas wreath," she said in what she thought was a perfectly reasonable tone given the circumstances. "I don't care if it is Christmas Eve."

M.C. scowled at her. "Wear the mistletoe or you're not coming."

"Don't be childish," An-An snapped right back. "I’m already wearing mistletoe, you're overreacting."

Crossing their arms over their chest, M.C.'s frown only deepened. "The little piece you have only deterred it, this should keep it away altogether. Now put it on."

"I'm not wearing a Christmas decoration."

"It's not a decoration, it's a circlet, and it's a perfectly fine form of protection. Put it on." M.C. thrust out the circlet of mistletoe. An-An scowled, but conceded defeat and put it on. M.C. picked up the shopping bag, plus the flashlight, and pulled open the front door. "Come on."

A gust of icy wind greeted them, and they both hunched against it as they stepped out onto the porch and down the steps to the lawn. The lights kicked on, washing out the area, revealing where the white snow was churned up from their earlier forays.

M.C. switched on the flashlight and headed for the woods, and the pair followed the path they'd earlier made.

"Are we headed back to the original casting site?" An-An asked.

M.C. nodded. "I think I can use it to draw the demon and then reverse the spell. It's a straight up exorcism, should be just as effective."

As they traipsed through the snow the back of An-An's neck began to prickle and the hairs on her arms stood on end under her coat and shirt. "I don't think luring it is going to be a problem." She increased her pace to draw even with M.C. and took their arm. "We're being followed."

"Stay close." M.C. threw a look over her shoulder eyes narrowed. "We're almost there."

Up ahead, An-An could make out the stump, the cluster of candles illuminated in the pale flashlight beam.

M.C. knelt down when they got there, setting aside the flashlight so that its light fell on the cleared out space in front of the stump. They rummaged through the bag and pulled out several fresh candles, sticking them into the snow next to the older candles as best they could. M.C. pulled the pack of matches from their pocket and lit the candles that smoked a little in the cold air. An-An stood as close as she could, the sensation of being watched from the woods still strong.  She thought she caught glimpses of movement out of the corner of her eye and took a step closer to M.C.

Pulling the metal bowl from the bag, M.C. began shredding herbs into it as they chanted in a low voice. In Latin, three simple phrases repeated over and over again. To An-An, it sounded like a prayer. The wind made the icy branches above their heads clack together and snap like bones breaking.

An-An could practically hear the wolf panting, smell its fetid breath. She hunched further into her coat, hand stuffed in the pockets.

The prayer ended and M.C. dropped another lit match into the bowl. The green mistletoe leaves smoldered, letting off fragrant white smoke that curled into the frigid air. All in all, a little anticlimactic.

The wolf burst from the wood without warning, a huge thing twice the size of any dog An-An had ever seen, bigger even than M.C.'s Italian mastiff, Faust. Its dark gray fur was streaked with black, and its eyes were like burning flames. Its mouth was open in a snarl that An-An remembered from the last time she'd encountered the demon and it charged straight at them.

M.C. began to chant again, voice strong and loud even as the creature barreled towards them. An-An braced herself for impact expecting to be hit by a heavy body and feel teeth ripping at her flesh.

Instead the wolf headed straight for the makeshift shrine, knocking over candles and sending M.C.'s bowl flying. Its paws churned up the snow and dirt as it turned and bared its fangs.

"Run." M.C. shoved An-An hard.

She didn't need to be told twice. She bolted, M.C. right behind her.

The wolf was a little ways behind them, churning up the snow at it went.

They tore back through the woods towards the house and across the lawn. An-An's longer legs carried her faster until her heel turned, causing her to trip and nearly fall. M.C. careened into her back with a small cry and stopped.

The wolf was gaining on them. An-An could hear it growling, choked on the scent of decay coming off of it.

M.C. spun, thrust their hand out, and began speaking rapidly in Latin. They broke off for a moment to turn toward An-An. "Lay down an inscription for opening a portal. I'm going to cast this demon out now."

"I need time." An-An's hands were stiff with cold as she began to draw in the snow with her fingers. "It's not that simple of an inscription."

"I'll buy you time." M.C. turned back to the demon and kept chanting. The wolf circled them, still growling low in its throat, showing its fangs.

 M.C.'s voice rose and fell but remained strong. An-An let the words wash over her as she concentrated on making the marks they would need for the ritual. Drawing with her hand in the snow wasn't as precise as she would have liked, and she prayed it would be legible enough work.

The wolf lunged and M.C. dropped to their knees, hands hovering over the inscription in the snow.

"It's not ready!" An-An yelled. If the inscription wasn't done, if the markings weren't perfect, the spell could go horribly wrong. It could kill them both.

As soon as M.C. turned away, the demon charged them, snarling and snapping at M.C.'s back and An-An moved as well, throwing herself forward. She didn't think, just snatched off the mistletoe wreath she was still wearing and held it out toward the wolf.

The demon stopped, growling and baring its teeth but not coming any closer.

Next to An-An, a blue light like fire flared around M.C., starting at their hands and rushing up their arms to consume all of them. The force of the power exploded out, making the air shimmer and knocking An-An backwards.

Even lying on her back in the snow, she could feel the doorway between worlds open like the world tilting to one side, making her stomach churn and nausea rise. Then the bottom of her stomach dropped out as the strong sensation of falling washed over her. Somehow she managed to claw her way to a sitting position.

It looked like the wolf was being eaten by darkness, consumed inch by inch into the void. An-An found she could not look directly at it, much less comprehend something so foreign to the way the world should have worked.

She'd read about doors between worlds and the void between. She knew of hundreds of inscriptions for those rituals, but she'd never seen a door before. The experience was terrifying and strangely beautiful all at once. Tendrils of darkness snaked out to wrap around the wolf. Though the wolf put up a struggle, snapping its jaws, paws clawing at the ground sending snow flying, it could not stop the devouring darkness.

The darkness grew, swallowing everything in its path, and An-An had to look away. She concentrated on the flaming eyes of the wolf until those flames flickered and went out.

M.C. brought their hands down again. There should have been a clap of thunder or something dramatic; instead their hand sank softly into snow without a sound.

The door closed, the darkness trickling away until it was gone.

An-An collapsed back into the snow, staring up at the dark sky dotted all over with stars, so thankfully unlike the living darkness of the void. "Merry Christmas," she said to no one in particular.

M.C. dug their cell phone out of their coat pocket. "I'm calling Simon and Davidson so they can send a clean-up team, just in case there's any nasty residual effects of the curse lingering about." Phone pressed to their ear, M.C. looked over at An-An. "Then we can spend Christmas at home."

Picking herself out of the snow and dusting off wet clumps and stray mistletoe leaves, An-An thought home sounded pretty good.

*~*~*

An-An poured eggnog into two of M.C.'s cut class tumblers then added a finger of rum to both of them for good measure. 

M.C. was curled on the couch, watching the snow fall outside their living room window. Their hair was still damp from the hot shower they'd taken when the two of them had gotten to the apartment.

By the time they'd managed to leave the lodge and returned to town, the sun had begun to rise. An-An had opted to go with M.C. back to their apartment instead of her own. They'd been together long enough now that she kept a change of clothes and a toothbrush at M.C.'s anyway.

She was wearing that extra set of clothes now, long sleeve t-shirt and sweatpants, having taken a shower right after M.C. The coffee table in front of the couch was currently full of different kinds of cheeses, crackers, some fresh figs, and anything else they could find to nibble on in the fridge.

Faust lay with his head on M.C.'s knees.

An-An was about to cross the room and offer M.C. a cup of eggnog when M.C.'s cell phone began vibrating on the coffee table.

"Yes," M.C. answered it, and An-An got a sinking feeling that their night wasn't quite as over as she would have liked it to be.

"Understood." They hung up and turned to An-An lips pressed together in a tight frown for a moment before speaking. "The Morgans might have lit the candles in the woods, but we were right about that not being what triggered the curse. Linda Everett's husband Joseph was just taken into custody. A psych and a curse master went around to their house after the police found evidence that he belonged to an extremist demonic cult. Curses leave certain… evidence on their casters, from what I understand. There are ways of covering that up, of course, but it involves a lot of power. Curse Masters can sense these traces, and found them on Joseph. He hasn't admitted to anything yet, but it's only a matter of time. They'll keep me informed either way." 

"What if he doesn't confess?" An-An asked.

M.C. shrugged. "Not my problem. My job was to identify the curse and exorcise the demon. I'll give evidence in court, of course, but who ends up getting tried isn't up to me."

An-An supposed M.C. was right. Their job was over. The rest would be up to the police. Still, it was too bad; she wished it could have ended differently, especially for the Morgan and Everett families who seemed to have gotten nothing but heart break this Christmas.

She handed M.C. one of the glasses and settled on the couch as well. "I feel sorry for Linda." 

M.C. took a sip. "So do I, but for what it's worth, I don't think he was trying to kill her family, just raise the demon for the power he could gain from it. Stupid, since it was the wrong kind of demon for that and he went about it the wrong way. It's been a bad business from start to finish.  "

An-An took a sip of eggnog. The store-bought stuff would never be as good as her father's homemade, but at least the rum was high quality and made it go down smooth. "Merry Christmas, by the way."

"And to you." M.C. stared down at their glass of eggnog. "I’m sorry you're missing Christmas with your family."

"It's all right." An-An snuggled closer and took another sip. "One year won't kill me. I'll call and talk to all of them a little later today."

"It is early," M.C. smiled a little. "And we haven't slept yet."

"No." An-An let one hand come to rest lightly on M.C.'s pajama-clad thigh, feeling pleasantly warm and relaxed by the rum in her system. "No, we haven't."

M.C. shooed Faust off their knees and then turned slightly towards An-An on the couch. "Do you want to go to bed?"

"Not necessarily." An-An reached up to cup the back of M.C.'s head, let her fingertips lightly rub through their short hair. "I thought we could do something nice to celebrate Christmas—and I did make you a promise."

Their lips touched lightly, unhurried but thorough. An-An set her glass aside and deepened the kiss, tongue delving into the warmth of M.C.'s mouth. She kept the press of lips light, caressing and tasting, more teasing than anything else, until M.C. sighed and melted against her. An-An's arms slid around M.C., and her mouth became more demanding, pressing hard to dominate and claim.

She kissed down the side of M.C.'s neck, then leaned back to unbutton M.C.'s shirt. Bypassing the binder M.C. wore underneath, An-An slid off the couch to kneel on the floor between M.C.'s spread legs. She smiled up at them before pressing her mouth against the bulge in M.C.'s pants. They must have put on a strap-on after their shower, which meant they'd been expecting this or at least hoping for it. An-An smiled against M.C.'s thigh.