Satan's Gift Read online

  Satan’s Gift

  Everly Taylor

  Title: Satan’s Gift

  Copyright @ 2019 by Everly Taylor

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This includes, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—so don’t steal Its not nice and will put you on the naughty list. While Santa in this book is sexy as hell, I guarantee you the real Santa is probably big and fluffy… Think about it… And please don’t be a jerk.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. If you think you are the people in this book and you are as funny or as hot as them… please look me up.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon and purchase your own copy. This is called piracy guys, and again, might get you a one way ticket to Luka or a permanent place on the naughty list… so just don’t do it. I’d rather you don’t get coal in your stocking.

  Drinking Eggnog is still a completely ok form of being naughty.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  To all of those that dealt with my crazy ass

  Christmas in July idea at the very last minute.

  Also to those that have fantastic dreams,

  Keep dreaming and make them a reality.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One - Holly

  Chapter Two – Luka

  Chapter Three - Luka

  Chapter Four - Holly

  Chapter Five - Luka

  Chapter Six - Luka

  Chapter Seven - Holly

  Chapter Eight - Luka

  Chapter Nine - Holly

  Chapter Ten - Holly

  Chapter Eleven - Holly

  Chapter Twelve - Nick

  Chapter Thirteen - Luka

  Chapter Fourteen – Holly

  Chapter Fifteen - Bernard

  Chapter Sixteen - Holly

  Chapter Seventeen - Holly

  Chapter Eighteen - Holly

  Chapter Nineteen - Nick

  Chapter Twenty - Holly

  Chapter Twenty-One - Holly

  Chapter Twenty-Two - Holly

  Chapter Twenty-Three - Holly

  Chapter Twenty-Four - Holly

  Chapter Twenty-Five - Holly

  Coming Soon

  About Everly Taylor

  Chapter One

  Holly

  “You are so lucky I freaking love you,” I muttered disdainfully to myself as I pushed deeper through the clothes to the back of my closet. Five minutes had passed and I still had not found the damned thing. I sat back on my heels and looked around the mess I had created. The sweater was in here somewhere, I knew it.

  This dang thing only got pulled out once a year, you would think I wouldn’t lose it like this. After last year I had sworn it would never see the light of day again, yet here I was digging it out again.

  Ugh, I pushed aside a box of books I still hadn’t unpacked. I’d lived here for two years now, I really needed to get to that. I reached behind a large suitcase and snagged a piece of cloth that looked promising and yanked hard. It was stuck on something so I pulled harder and with a final tug it came free. I was sent flying back onto my ass, landing on my carpet.

  “Ah-hah!” I exclaimed triumphantly. Finally, I found the hideous thing. I shook it out, straightening it as best I could before I slipped it on over my head and pulled my long, black hair through the neckline, static shooting my hair in every direction.

  I glanced at myself in the mirror, quickly trying to smooth my hair down. My reflection bounced back at me as I grimaced, the bright red, green and gold on my sweater was so revolting. Why did I have to be such a smart ass and pick out the ugliest sweater I could find for my Dad’s annual Christmas party?

  Now, it was a stupid tradition, my dad actually loved it and requested that I wear the dumb thing every year. It would have been better if they realized instead it was more of a Holly hated Christmas, she hated this sweater, bah humbug and all that jazz. But no, my luck wasn’t that good. I sighed, might as well get this night over with, I thought as I left my room.

  I grinned when I reached my living room, my pet rat Rufus was running on his wheel, getting in his daily cardio. “At least there will be food boy. Wish me luck.” He squeaked as if he understood me, and I paused to pass him a treat before I scooped my keys off the counter. I flicked the light switch off and closed the door behind me.

  Twenty minutes later I arrived at my family’s house on the outskirts of town, the need to buzz myself in through the gate unnecessary as it was wide open for the party. A groan escaped me as I pulled into the drive. It looked like Christmas had thrown up, and this was where it had all landed.

  The wrap around drive was lined with lit up candy canes and the center lawn filled with blown up, animated figures. It was so bright it could have been seen from space. I should have worn my damn sunglasses.

  In front of me the two-story house beamed cheerfully. The peaks of the roof were strung with multi-colored icicles and the windows were lined with their own lights. In the center of each window also hung a lit up wreath, as if just weren't enough to have them there, they had to be sending out a signal to the aliens while they were at it. I crept around the corner of the drive and parked, catching the guest house out of the corner of my eye. “Fuck me,” I sighed, as I got out.

  Dad had made the guest house into a gingerbread house, complete with a lollipop lane and everything. Not only that, there was a horse drawn carriage sitting in front, waiting to pull guests around the property. Knowing him, it had blankets and cocoa on board for them too. I shook my head, I really should have stayed home.

  I shut the car door and struggled to not grit my teeth when I heard the Christmas music that pumped cheerfully through the surround sound on the property. It wasn’t that I hated Christmas exactly, I just couldn’t get on board with the ‘everyone expected you to be cheery just because your name was Holly’ gig.

  My parents loved Christmas, everything about it. The snow, the lights, the music. Literally everything. Cue the annual Christmas party and my expected appearance. Even more so now that my mom had passed away. There was no way I could leave my dad all by himself on Christmas.

  I pushed open the front door and more holiday cheer abounded in the foyer. A huge fifteen-foot tree, complete with presents and everything stood in the middle of the entrance. Large red and green globes tossed my reflection back at me, and for a moment regret passed through me that I hadn’t come to help Dad decorate.

  It was quickly forgotten though, as a group of kids ran by screaming, their arms laden with treats. It looked like he had been at it already. This was going to be a long night. I headed for the kitchen, passing a group of people that milled about with drinks, laughing over who knows what. I managed to restrain an eye roll when they all cheerfully insisted I join them. Instead I declined, then continued on into the kitchen.

  From the end of the hall I heard a jolly “Ho, Ho, Ho” and I glanced up with a grin. This was the one Santa that I couldn’t help but smile for. He rambled down the hall toward me, hefting up his pants as he reached me. “Holly,
you came!” He said joyfully, scooping me up in a hug, the scent of licorice enveloping me as he pulled me close.

  “Of course I came, Dad.” I replied hugging him back tight. I might not like coming to this party, but I could never let him down.

  “Let me look at you,” he bellowed, pulling me back at arm’s length. “Your too skinny, you need to get out more, cooped up in that office all the time,” he scoffed.

  “Dad,” I started, but he held up a hand.

  “No, I get it, busy corporate woman and all. Too busy for her Dad now.” He tutted. “I miss you around here Holly,” he said.

  “I miss you too, Dad.” I hugged him again. After things had gotten busier at work two years ago, I had moved out of the guest house into an apartment closer to town. A year later, I received the promotion I had been pushing for and time with family had suffered. I hadn’t been coming to see him as much as I should have. I made a mental note to make sure that changed.

  “Well it’s Christmas Eve, no more of this. Let’s see it then!” He chuckled, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

  “Dad, doesn’t this get kind of old?” I protested.

  “Never,” he replied, as he shook his head grinning from ear to ear.

  “You are so lucky I love you.” I rolled my eyes at him as I reached down to find the hidden button on my sweater. My mom had been a baker so I picked out this sweater as a joke for her one year. It was supposed to be just that, a joke, but unfortunately for me, it was one that stuck. My bright green sweater featured a giant cupcake with red icing and was strung with lights that actually lit up and played the tune ‘All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth’. They thought it was Christmas gold, and from that year forward I had not been allowed to wear anything else.

  I pushed the button and my dad's eyes lit up with laughter as I struggled not to scowl. He still loved Christmas and I didn’t want to rain on his parade. I knew how special it was for my mom and him. It didn’t mean I had to enjoy it though, not anymore.

  The song ended and I was pulled out of my thoughts, “That’s my girl!” He beamed.

  “I’m burning this thing,” I muttered making him laugh.

  “Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s have some eggnog and join the festivities!” He said jovially.

  “Is it alcoholic?”

  He grinned in response as he passed me a glass, and pulled me up to a table. “Dad what is this?” I glanced down at all the pens and stationary spread across the tabletop.

  “Letters to Santa!” he said proudly.

  “No. Absolutely not.” I stated, trying to turn around and make my escape. He quickly grabbed me around my back and spun me around, guiding me back to the table.

  “Holly, how long has it been since you have told Santa what you wanted for Christmas? Live a little. Who knows, maybe this year, a little Christmas magic will happen.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Dad, I’m not twelve anymore.”

  “Come on Holly, humor me. Try to have some fun,” he pled with me.

  I tried to come up with another excuse to make my escape, but the genuine excitement in his eyes squashed my need for rebuttal. “Okay Dad.” I slid into an unoccupied chair and picked up a piece of paper. A huge grin lit his face and he took a seat next to me. “Don’t you think it’s a little weird for Santa to be writing a letter to himself?” I asked.

  “Who's to say I’m not writing one to the elves, huh? Don’t get sassy with me, Christmas isn’t here yet you know. You can still get coal,” He laughed, good humoredly.

  I looked down at my blank piece of paper, what the hell would I even ask Santa for? The last letter I had written to Santa, everything had gone so terribly wrong. That was the year I had stopped believing, the year that Christmas became just another day for me.

  I jotted something down, without really thinking about it and sealed it in the envelope. To Satan. Shit I spelled Santa wrong. I started to put it in a new envelope, but stopped myself. It didn’t really matter, neither of them were real, and this would end up in a trash can somewhere by the end of the night when the clean up crew came through.

  My dads laughter had me looking up. A group of kids had gathered around him, taking turns sitting on his lap, as he regaled them with Christmas tales and they gave him their endless lists. I felt like shit for giving him such a hard time about joining him tonight when I knew how much this holiday still meant to him.

  I would have to make it up to him later, right now he was busy. I caught his attention and gave him a smile. He knew I would be back, for now I was off to find food, and hopefully something a little stronger than this egg nog. I dropped my letter on the table, never seeing it vanish with a twinkle.

  Chapter Two

  Luka

  I sat staring at the stack of letters on my lap for the past hour. They had been arriving over the course of the past two weeks, and even though they had my name on them, I knew they didn’t really belong to me. The last one had arrived only fifteen minutes ago and had my name printed in beautifully swirly letters on the front of the envelope, the rich vanilla scent wafting from the envelope and drawing me to it.

  Every year a handful of these things would make their way to me and I simply ignored the mistake. Either tossing the letters into the fire, or sending them on their merry little way. This year something made me pause and hold onto them. What though, I wasn’t exactly sure.

  I leaned back on my large sofa, watching the flames from my oversized fireplace dancing off my whiskey glass. What was it that made this year different from all the others? I tipped my glass up and downed the liquid inside. With a sigh I tossed the stack of letters down on the coffee table and stood for a refill.

  “Luka! Where in the blazing North Star are you?” The voice echoed angrily down the corridor making me grin. There was only one person that swore like that, and honestly, I had been expecting his visit long before now.

  I finished filling my glass before I turned from the bar to face him. I lifted my whiskey glass in a salute to him as he stomped toward me, his red pants and suspenders looking ridiculous as always. It was good to see some things never change.

  “Ah, Nick. What brings you… South?” I quipped.

  “Don’t play games with me, you know why I’m here.” He fumed, pushing his blonde hair back from his face.

  I gave him a mock frown, “Now I’m just hurt, here I was hoping this was a social call, being that this is Christmas Eve and all.”

  “All the more reason why you know I don’t have time for your foolish antics, Luka.”

  “Antics? Me? Never.” I feigned shock before I shot him a grin and took a sip of my whiskey.

  “Bernard!” Nick called out. The air shimmered around him and a tall man appeared at his side. I studied the two of them for a moment. Even without his ridiculous green getup, I would have recognized him as the two of them went everywhere together.

  They were very similar in build, both muscular and fit though the similarities ended there. Nick had much blonder hair than Bernard and kept it shorter where Bernard kept his in one of those millennial man buns. Nicks eyes were blue and piercing and Bernards were hazel and brooding, but I suppose that was the difference of always being in a workshop and someone who stuffed himself behind a book.

  Bernard was hands down his go-to guy for everything. This was about to get good, fucking with the two of them had always been hilarious. “Please inform Luka here of our missing documents.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, “Please, Bernard, do tell.”

  He cleared his throat, “Yes, well, we are currently missing fifteen documents, Letters to Santa to be exact. We have traced them here and believe they may have made their way to you by mistake.” He pushed his glasses back up on his nose.

  “Oh? I assure you, I may be the Devil, but I abide by the law as much as any other. If I had received any mail that was not my own, I would have quickly sent it on its way to the correct recipient.”

  “Luka, those kids look forward t
o Christmas, surely even you couldn’t be that heartless.” Nick insisted.

  “And one woman, sir,” Bernard added, his hazel eyes watching me sharply. Damn elves and their pointy ears.

  “Indeed, and one woman. They all are looking forward to Christmas. Are you going to ruin that for them?” Nick asked me.

  “I have no letters to Santa.” I told him honestly, laughing as his face turned even redder than before. “However, I do have something else that might be a point of interest to you, since you seem to have a letter fetish.” I set my glass down on the bar and strolled over to the coffee table in the center of the room. I picked up the stack of letters I had been studying previously, holding them up so he could see. “I have letters addressed to Satan,” I grinned at the two of them, “Fifteen precisely, what an odd coincidence, don’t you think?”

  “You know that’s no coincidence, Luka. Those are my letters and you know it.”

  “They have my name on them,” I shrugged.

  “You know it was an accident, a simple misspelling. Give me the blasted letters back so we can be on our way.” He demanded, crossing the room.

  “Tsk, Tsk. Now that’s no way for Santa to behave. You’re supposed to be a role model.” I vanished through a portal as he reached me and reappeared on the other side of the room leaving him sputtering. “It looks like they spelled my name just fine. S-A-T-A-N,” I grinned pointing to the letters as I spelled out my pseudonym.

  “You have no intention on delivering presents to those people. Why even play this charade?” I had him flustered and I was enjoying every minute of it.

  “Perhaps I do.”

  “You and I both know that you have no clue what the spirit of Christmas is about Luka. You will only destroy this like you do everything else.”

  I fell silent. I was the Devil, but it wasn’t because I asked for it. Sure, I was good at it, but someone had to be. Someone had to keep these demons and unruly souls in check. That someone just happened to be me.