Merry Chris Witch Read online

  Nichole took a deep breath in and blinked. “It worked! Chris, you did it,” she said pulling me close and hugging me.

  We pulled away at the same time and both lingered there for a moment. I desperately wanted to kiss her, but knowing the whole world was waiting I hesitated and the moment was gone.

  Nichole giggled. “Watch this,” she said twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. In a flash she and the sack of presents were gone.

  From Celine’s rooftop I looked around the neighborhood and saw a bolt of golden light bounce from one house to the next. I looked on the Nice List as names started to disappear one after the other.

  “Cookie?”

  “Jeez!” I jumped as Nichole materialized in the driver’s seat. “You scared me!”

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “Was that you jumping from house to house?” I asked pointing to several of the homes I’d seen the streak of golden light in front of.

  “Yep, pretty cool huh? All thanks to you,” she beamed and adjusted my hat on her head. “So, where to next, Mr. Navigator?” And before I could even answer, Nichole twirled her hair and we were off.

  *

  Nichole smiled at me every time she returned to the car and saw more names had disappeared from the Nice List. The joy and hope resonating from the magic realm had given her a surge of energy and speed the likes I’d never seen before. It was exhilarating to watch her, but I was glad we were almost finished too. If I ate another cookie I was going to burst. I stayed focused on keeping the world in suspended animation while we traveled and tried not to dwell too much on the consequences of me using magic in the human world.

  During our gift giving adventure we’d encountered every weather condition imaginable from dry and hot to tropical and humid. Now we were in a place straight out of a holiday snow globe. A blanket of pristine white snow covered the ground and midnight blue skies full of stars twinkled down at us. The air was crisp, cool, and felt alive with magic. I watched in awe as Nichole’s light dashed from one house to the next as the last names disappeared off the List. And then the dash of light stopped.

  All of a sudden Nichole popped back into the car. “That’s the whole List? We did it!” She said and hugged my neck. She was warm and soft, and smelled like sweet peppermint and cookies.

  I lifted the car off the last roof and returned the world to normal speed as we flew slowly through the sky. We were silhouetted by the moon as some radio stations started reporting eye witness accounts of seeing Santa flying through the sky in some sort of futuristic looking automobile. Nichole and I laughed as she curled a ringlet of hair around her finger and returned us to the magic realm.

  “Wait,” she stopped the car suddenly as we made our way back to New York City. “We forgot someone,” she said looking at me.

  “Who?” I asked scouring the Nice List. “Nichole, we got everyone on the List, there aren’t any more names,” I said holding it up.

  “Julie’s not on the List,” she looked up at me with hopeful eyes. “The owner of Witches Brew and Devilish Delights?”

  “I remember.” I looked to the empty bag that had once been full of presents. “But, if she’s not on the List the bag won’t conjure a gift for her. What do you want to give her?”

  “Something from up here,” she said pointing to her head. “You may be a potion master, but I’ve got my mother’s legendary cookie recipe and with your help, I’m sure we can put a Halloween spin on it. I want it to be something so delicious and unique to the Witches Brew that it will draw a crowd for Julie all year long. Are you in?”

  “Of course I’m in. Let’s go.”

  *

  The edge of the horizon was starting to lighten. Midnight blues gave way to pale ice blues and blazing streaks of orange. We’d been flying around for hours trying to organize our plan for Julie’s gift, but we were still struggling with it. At one point I even relented and called my parents, barely mentioning the part about underage magic use of course, and they had said how proud they were of me for helping save Christmas. They made me promise to be safe, come home when our quest was finished, and not to have this little midnight adventure become a nightly thing. My parents had been surprisingly understanding and also told me that if I didn’t invite Nichole over for dinner soon I would most definitely be grounded. We all had a good laugh and then it had been Nichole’s turn to call home. Apparently the out-poor of hope and joy Nichole and I felt resonate into the human world had also woken Santa and the elves from the sickness that had plagued them. No one knew for sure what had caused the sleeping illness, but the elves were already back at work getting things ready for next Christmas and Santa was recovering in his private study. Nichole’s mom invited me and my parents to the North Pole for dinner and I had eagerly said yes. From the delicious sounding ingredients Nichole had given me for Julie’s new cookie recipe I couldn’t wait to taste Mrs. Claus’ home cooking. I bet the magical flavors would linger with me forever.

  Nichole flew us up near the northern lights and slowed the car. “This is one of my favorite places in the entire world,” she said. The colors were magnificent. Swirls of luminous greens shimmered and swirled against the dark blue sky. “Want to see a neat trick?” She asked and I nodded. With a twirl of her hair Nichole reached out and manipulated the changing colors of the Aurora Borealis with her hand. Like treading her fingers through water the colors moved under her command. She made the lime green swirls even larger and brought purple and hot pink streaks to the foreground around the edges. “Isn’t it beautiful? I think the different layers of color are just amazing! Pure magic.”

  Layers, of course! I thought almost jumping out of my seat. “I’ve got it!” I said, suddenly tearing off the bottom of the blank Nice List. A startled Nichole turned to me, but I held up my finger. I didn’t want to miss a single layer of the spell as I interweaved it onto the magical page. Golden tendrils of light swirled around my pen and soaked into the paper, imbuing it with magic. I wrote down an ingenious name above the measurements and ingredients that Nichole had already given me, and was finally able to add the magical touch that would make Julie’s shop into a booming success all year round.

  Reminiscent of a dessert sandwich, my additions to the layered flavor sensation would each burst into the taster’s mouth one by one, while lingering there longer than any human food ever could thanks to my affinity over time. And they would complement everything! Coffee, tea, carbonated drinks…the recipe was perfection! The aroma of buttercream frosting would fill the air and draw people in and the recipe and Julie would have them coming back for more.

  “Merry Chriswitches by Witches Brew,” Nichole started reading my addition to her family recipe. “Oh my gosh, Chris, these are going to be a huge hit! How can I ever thank you?”

  “You just did.” I smiled at her. Her thanks was all I needed. My heart filled with joy and pride from being able to help someone in their time of need. Just then the remaining Nice List sparked from the dashboard as a new name began to appear. Golden light began to burn letters onto the blank page. I read the words as they became whole. “Me?” I whispered. I couldn’t believe my eyes as I read my name silently again. ‘Christopher Aspen Heron.’

  “Of course you.” Nichole said undeniably.

  “Did you do this?” I asked, holding up the Nice List.

  Nichole shook her head. “I wished for it. But, it wasn’t me.” She was studying the paper as hard as I was when Santa’s satchel shifted. My present was now inside, but I didn’t need to look. I already knew what it was. There was only thing I wanted for Christmas and she was right in front of me. She had a sad look in her eyes that I couldn’t explain though. “Being on the Nice List means something, Chris. It means more than just getting a present. Do you think you’ll go back to your old school now? I think this means that you’ve been given a second chance.” Nichole said.

  I gave her a mischievous grin before answering, “You know, I think I kind of like being right where
I am.” I reached into the big blue satchel and grabbed the sprig of mistletoe and held it over our heads, “After all, we only have 364 days before Christmas.”

  To my surprise and disappointment she curled her hair around her finger and dissolved the sprig right out of my hand. “Well then, we better get started,” she smiled and I melted.

  “Merry Christmas, Nichole,” I said, not being able to help the joy I felt as the words left my mouth.

  She giggled to herself at something she thought was funny. “Happy Birthday and Merry Chris, Witch.” And then she kissed me.

  ***

  “So how’s the sleeping flu treating you, Nick?” Tinker Bell asked using air quotes as she flew up to the rooftop.

  “Oh, you know it comes and goes,” Santa said faking a cough.

  “Uh huh,” Tinker Bell mocked.

  “What? I didn’t make her deliver to the entire world her first time out. Just a quarter of the Nice List, that’s all.” Santa beamed at his daughter and her rebellious blue vehicle of choice.

  “She did well tonight. You would have been proud.”

  “Nichole always makes me proud. How’s she doing in school? Is her cover still in place?”

  “No worries there. No one knows who she is except Chris there.”

  “Good.” Santa gave the young couple a warm smile as he watched them from afar. “He’s a surprising young man. They made a great team tonight.”

  “That they did. Although I still don’t know how normal a life Nichole thinks she’s going to get at a school full of magical beings.”

  “Ho, ho, ho! Nichole said she wanted normal, but I know my teenage daughter. She meant a normal life with boys in it. And define normal these days, Tink, honestly.” As if reiterating his point, Santa’s phone chimed to the tune of Jingle Bell Rock. He pulled it from his pocket and began reading a text. He smiled as he typed a response. “Coming over for dinner tonight? The misses is sending me on a grocery run for her world famous pumpkin quinoa muffins.”

  Tinker Bell gave him a questioning look, “What, no cookies?”

  “Nope. Times are a changing,” Santa said rubbing his diminishing belly.

  “It’s poker night with Pan and the boys. Raincheck on dinner?”

  “Always,” Santa smiled and let out another thunderous chuckle. “How is the old boy anyway?” He asked drawing his finger down the side of his nose and conjuring a motorcycle.

  Tinker Bell shook her head and put her hands on her hips. “Still lost without me just like the lot of you.” Santa laughed joyously at her joke as he started the conjured bike. His red suit morphed into dark red leathers, more suitable for riding.

  Santa pulled the Naughty List from his pocket and looked at the name being magically written in the blackest of inks. Lynne Monty. Well what do you know? He chuckled to himself and looked back at the young couple. “What’s going to happen to Chris now that he broke the rules and used underage magic in the human world again?” Santa quizzed.

  “He used magic?” Tink grabbed her chest in mock surprise and giggled. “This is the most magical night of the year you know? So I can honestly say I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas, Tink,” With a wink and an intentional touch to his nose Santa left the couple to their discovery of Chris’s name on the Nice List and the anticipation of a first kiss. He flew off the rooftop and into the sky.

  Tinker Bell smiled up at him as he flew away, “Merry Christmas, Santa.”

  ***

  Have you ever watched a cat stare up at a wall, tracking something’s movements-- something invisible that sent shivers down your spine? Did it seem as if your pet were able to sense dark shadows lurking where the veil between worlds and reality thins? That’s precisely where the idea for the Netherwalker Series came from for CK Dawn.

  Award winning author, coffee loving gamer girl, and Sci-fi enthusiast, CK Dawn has always loved to snuggle up with her cat Hagrid (the shadow-seer) and read. With a nudge of encouragement from her lil’ sis, she found writing fantasy stories was even better than just reading about them. So, a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away CK let her unique tale of knights and Camelot dancing in her mind take form and fly with Cloak of Shadows, her award winning debut novel. In writing, CK has truly found her bliss and now writes her enticing, mystical fantasies in the witching hours with Hagrid by her side. Stay tuned, because there will be a lot more to come in the Netherwalker Series. Seriously, the story has only just begun.

  CK loves connecting with readers and fans and hopes to talk to you soon!

  Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Instagram ~ Newsletter ~ Tumblr ~ Google+ ~ Street Team ~ Pinterest ~ YouTube ~ Goodreads

  Please enjoy this excerpt from Cloak of Echoes

  (The Netherwalker Series, Book 1.5)

  The YA Fantasy available now!

  A Netherwalker Short Story

  †

  Rachel Kincaid looked up from the letter she was writing and stared at her baby girl sleeping soundly in her crib. Stay small as long as you can little one. The shadows may be real, but we still have time. Rachel felt a tinge of guilt patter out of her heart and into her throat. Emma was an absolute blessing, but her arrival had changed everything. Rachel was used to keeping secrets from others, even from her loving husband, but now those secrets wouldn’t be hers alone to keep. They would be passed on to her innocent daughter. All Rachel wanted was a normal docile life for her daughter for as long as she could give it to her, but plans had to be put in place. She looked at the letter in her hands and shook her head.

  Just then the wind kicked up and whistled through the nursery’s open window. The young mother got up and rushed to the window to close it. Lightning struck the ground in the distance and illuminated the entire sky for only a fraction of a second, but it had been enough. Rachel’s attention and head snapped to the end of the alley as the thunder cracked in the darkness. Out of the corner of her eye she saw it. An out of place shadow shifted and slithered away rattling and vibrating with power. You can’t have her, she thought. You will never have her!

  Rachel’s emotions must have stirred Emma. Even while sleeping the newborn sent out soothing thoughts to her that filled Rachel with an empathetic warmth that she dreaded. The comforting sensation had been instinctual in her daughter from the moment she was born and was the cause for Rachel’s concern. She went to the crib and touched Emma’s cheek reassuring the sleeping babe that everything was okay.

  The thunder must have woken her husband. Rachel could hear his footsteps just outside the nursery door. Robert peered in and whispered, “You girls okay?”

  “We’re fine,” Rachel whispered back.

  “Coming back to bed?” he smiled.

  “In a couple more minutes.”

  Robert yawned. He’d been working double shifts in preparation for Rachel’s maternity leave. “Let me know if you need anything, my love.”

  “I will, my love.”

  Robert shut the door and Rachel heard him walk back down the hallway to their bedroom. Should I tell him? It was the question Rachel struggled with even before they had married. Sighing, she picked her letter back up, sat in the overstuffed nursing chair, and began writing again. She couldn’t help the tears that fell as she signed it and placed it in a manila envelope. Pulling out her phone she glanced at Emma again before sending out a long overdue text. ‘It’s done.’

  Emma Kincaid tried to scream but no sound escaped her throat. She gasped for air in the barren desert surrounding her but the atmosphere was too thick to breathe. Her brown hair floated all around her, framing her face like a halo. Then she remembered she didn’t have to breathe here. The air’s gelatinous texture was heavy enough to write in. Mesmerized, she traced scrolling patterns into it with her fingers then erased them and traced more designs into the translucent air. But something in the back of her mind was warning her to keep moving. With hands outstretched in front of her, Emma pushed through the atmosphere
blindly. Everything was alien to her here, even the orange dirt that ground between her teeth seemed foreign and bitter.

  She searched the gel trying to find a way out as invisible hands tightened a grip around her neck. Emma’s flesh was being peeled away from her bones strip by strip. Pieces of her skin weren’t being ripped off quickly like a Band-Aid; something was methodically removing and savoring each morsel. A monstrous, contented cackle echoed off the jagged cliffs high above. Emma followed the sound and was instantly transported to a cave within the tallest peak. Teetering on the cliff’s ledge she watched the creature that had become all too familiar to her now. It sat on a throne made of bones and skulls plucking things from the air and consuming them. It wore black armor that clung to its emaciated bones like a liquid skin. The flowing edges of material that touched the ground were frayed. Ravenous beasts cowered at its feet clawing at its armor for attention. The creature looked at Emma and plucked another morsel from the air. With each bite the creature took, Emma weakened. As the horror of being devoured sank in Emma threw herself off the precipice and bolted upright in bed.

  Emma sucked in a breath as she tried to slow her heart rate. As the nightmare faded she quieted the alarm that had apparently been going off for the last five minutes. She got out of bed and rushed to her window shutting out the chill that had enveloped her room. Emma swore she could see her breath as she struggled with the latch. Her dad must have opened it during the night. Emma never left it open anymore. Her nightmares had made her paranoid. So even though their New York apartment was ten stories up she kept her window locked tight. Thinking of her dad, Emma concentrated on her surroundings. Good, dad’s still asleep, she thought rushing to get dressed.