Yeah, yeah. She was a strong, independent woman and didn’t need her dad’s permission to get married, but still… “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
“Just get Santa licensed and out of the house before your dad arrives. That’s all I want.”
“Right.” She could do that. But she would make it up to Ethan one way or another.
“Dinner approaching. Three o’clock.” He nodded toward a couple heading their way.
“Okay, Santa. We’re going to hypnotize them. Use your glamour to sorta blank her mind, and then pull her into the shadows. I’ll get the man.”
Santa used glamour like a pro, thanks to the fact he already had these powers before he was turned. With the couple successfully zombified, Jane demonstrated proper biting technique and showed him how to seal the wounds with magical vampire saliva. Then, she showed him how to place a meal mark on the target, which was the only new bit of glamour he had to learn.
“Now it’s your turn.” She passed the man to Ethan, who kept him from wandering off before she could remove the trance.
Santa looked at the woman’s neck and leaned down, pressing his nose to her skin. His lip curled in disgust as he pulled back and shoved her away. “She smells like copper and salt.”
“That’s what blood smells like,” Jane said. “Just take a sip and try it.”
“I want a milkshake.” He stamped his foot like a spoiled child.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” She threw her arms in the air. “You’re a vampire now. You need blood to survive.”
“A milkshake or an iced peppermint mocha.” He crossed his arms like a stubborn snowman.
Ethan suppressed a chuckle behind her, and she spun around to face him. “What’s so funny, mister?”
He laughed. “Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?”
She parked her hands on her hips. “I had a psychological condition that made it impossible for me to feed. He’s just being a big baby.”
“Well…no sense wasting a decent meal.” Ethan stepped toward the woman and sank his fangs into her neck. When he was done, they lifted the trance and sent the couple on their way.
“We’ve got to get some blood in him.” He shoved his hands back into his pockets and paced down the sidewalk. Jane jogged to catch up, but Santa just strolled along, admiring the holiday decorations.
“Do you have any ideas? You managed to get me drinking blood, even if it wasn’t from the vein at first.”
He shook his head. “That was all Sophie. She knew you better than me. She knew what it would take to get you to drink.” He stopped walking and glanced back at Santa. “We may need to call Mrs. Claus now.”
Jane gawked. “Mrs. Claus, as in the fae queen? The one whose mere mention made a three-hundred-year-old vampire shake in his boots? I saw the way y’all reacted when the Magistrate talked about her. Uh-uh. No way. We’re not calling her until he’s licensed and ready to go.”
“Christmas Eve is three days away.”
“Then we’d better hurry. Come on, I have an idea.” She led them down a side street back toward the commercial end of the French Quarter. By the time they reached their destination, Santa was stumbling like a tourist on his first trip to Bourbon Street, though he hadn’t had a drop of alcohol since he woke up dead.
Jane supported his weight on one side, while Ethan propped up the other, and they practically had to Weekend at Bernie’s him down the alley between the ice cream parlor and the praline shop.
“I wasn’t this bad off my first night, was I?” She unwrapped Santa’s arm from around her shoulders and leaned him against the wall.
“He’s deteriorating much more quickly than you did.” Ethan held him upright by the bicep. “Exponentially faster, and a milkshake isn’t going to do him a lick of good.”
She hovered near the front of the alley, waiting for someone to step outside the shop. “We’re not getting him a milkshake…just the blood of someone on a sugar high.”
“That’s a good idea,” Ethan said. “His sugar fae side is probably starving too.”
“Exactly.” Jane locked her gaze on two petite women exiting the ice cream shop. They’d just shared a massive banana split and washed it down with sodas. Perfect.
She turned on her glamour full blast and lured them into the alley. They only needed one, but it was easier to put them both in a trance than to have one run off screaming about the monsters in the shadows.
“All right, Kris Kringle, this one should smell a lot better.” She positioned the brunette in front of Santa, angling her head so he could easily reach her neck.
“Jingle bells, werewolves smell, a vampire ran me down,” he sang to the tune of “Jingle Bells.”
“That’s seriously getting old.” And Jane was starting to understand why Ethan was such a Grumpy McGrumpy Pants when he was teaching her the ways of the vampire. Being responsible for another person’s livelihood was hard work and no fun…which was exactly why she’d never wanted to have children. She didn’t have a motherly bone in her body.
“Here’s the vein. Pierce and suck. Then lick the wounds,” she said.
Santa pressed his nose to the woman’s neck and inhaled deeply. Jane held her breath, crossing her fingers and her toes, praying to every god, spirit, and sprite in existence that the man would drink. They didn’t have time for him to pull a Jane Anderson and refuse for weeks.
“Do you mind?” Ethan’s fangs were fully extended as he watched the other woman, who leaned her back against the wall and stared blankly ahead.
“Go ahead, babe.” Devil knew he deserved a midnight snack more than she did.
Santa glanced at Ethan as he fed from the woman, and old St. Nick’s vampire instinct finally took control. His pupils constricted, and he peeled back his lips to reveal fully-formed, frighteningly long fangs. It was a good thing he didn’t visit human children anymore. Vampire Santa would surely give them nightmares.
He pierced the vein like a pro, groaning as he fed. When he pulled back, he looked even drunker than before, but that was normal. It would take a second or two for the blood to revive him.
She taught him how to seal the wounds, and then they practiced the glamour tactics for making sure his meals never remembered the service they performed before sending the women on their way.
“Feeling better?” she asked.
“Like the star on top of a Christmas tree.”
“Okay…” Was that a good thing? She wasn’t sure. His eyes seemed more coherent, so she’d call it a win.
“I spoke with someone at the coven house,” Ethan said as he stuffed his phone into his pocket. “If we get there fast, they can squeeze him in for a licensing appointment.”
“Perfect. Then we’ll call Mrs. Claus, explain that everything is okay, and she can come get him tomorrow night…with plenty of time to get ready for Christmas Eve.” See, she knew it would all work out.
And it did…at first.
Santa passed his licensing exam easy peasy, and for the first half of the walk back to their house in Marigny he seemed like his jolly old self.
Then he started humming Christmas tunes. No big deal, right? He was Santa Claus. If Jane had albums full of songs written about her, she’d probably walk around humming them too.