Caribou's Gift (8 page)

It didn’t help that his panicked urge to flee battled with an even stronger determination to stay, and all because of a certain cougar who sought to soothe his irritation.

“You look very handsome,” Crystal purred in his ear as she stroked the fur between his antlers. “And don’t worry. I’m sure the sparkles will probably fall off when you shift.”

He gave her a dirty look, which given he wore a flashing red nose, did not intimidate her in the least.

“Poor, baby,” she said with a laugh. “I’ll have to make it up to you. Maybe after the parade you could come over for dinner.”

He decided he wouldn’t gore her with his tines.

“We can watch
Rise of the Guardians
.”

A decent Christmas flick with lots of action. Don’t judge him because he liked animated movies. Judge him because he knew the words to ‘Let It Go’ from
Frozen
.

“Then, once Gigi goes to bed, maybe you could…”

Yes. Yes.

“Help me wrap her presents. I suck when it comes to taping.”

Big disappointment. His ears drooped, and she laughed.

“Ah, don’t look so sad. I know it seems like a lot of work, but I’ll make it worth your while. Promise,” she said in a husky whisper.

With those teasing words, she sashayed away. If he could have wolf whistled, he would have. As it was, he did leer, in a caribou slobbery way. Then he growled and pawed the ground like a bull when he noticed he wasn’t the only male appreciative of the view.

Mine.
And he couldn’t wait for the world—and most especially the males—to know it. Then, if they still dared leer, he’d show them why you never screwed with the guy who could scramble the password on their phone and not only change the outgoing voicemail message but also give it a really filthy, and loud, ringtone. One of his favorite pranks and best memories.

You could hear the moose bellow from a mile away.

Best part? Boris was inept when it came to technology and had to ask him nicely to help remove the offending tune.

Kyle marked the names and faces of the men who dared to admire what was his. Then mentally shook himself.

What am I doing?

Jealousy, never before experienced but recognizable. Just another sign Crystal was different than the other women he’d been with.
From now on, it will be only one woman.
While he’d certainly never expected to desire a domestic existence, ever since meeting Crystal and Gigi, it was all he could think of. All he wanted.

What I need.

It didn’t take a mission to realize his life had been missing something since he’d returned from the war. He’d tried to fill that gaping hole with drinking, pranks, work, hell, he’d even started the occasional fight to see if hitting things would help.

Nothing had until now.

Crystal and Gigi, and the life he could so easily picture with them, fit perfectly in the void. They offered a chance at a happy life, a full life. A new existence he’d get to enjoy as soon as he got through the next hellish hour. An hour of torture he would surely never live down.

Luckily, no one in the staging area made fun of him in his ridiculous Rudolph getup. Lucky because the parade was about to start and he didn’t have time to wash the blood from his antlers if an idiot dared to mock him.

The parade starting, though, didn’t mean he moved because he was, of course, leading the Santa sleigh, which meant he got to stand impatiently, in his harness, a herd of cow-like reindeer behind him and Earl the walrus practicing his ho-ho-ho’s.

The floats moved out, one by one, lit with lights, garishly bright. The people of town, dressed in holiday regalia, moved out with them as Christmas music blared from speakers. The goodwill and cheer should have made him roll his eyes. Instead, he found it infectious. Next thing he knew, his hoof was tapping out the tune to ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’.

Argh. Shoot me now.
No. Don’t. He couldn’t fail in his mission for Gigi. She expected to see Rudolph, and by damn, she would, even if it killed him.

Goodbye, cruel world.

Time to accomplish Mission #746: Be the best fucking Rudolph ever for one little girl.

He held his head high. Antlers a glitter, his nose a brilliant flashing red. To the refrain of ‘Rudolph’, out he pranced, leading Santa’s sleigh.

Only to balk at the door as panic suddenly overwhelmed him.

Everyone will see me.

They’ll laugh.

They’ll point.

They’ll mock.

They’ll…love me?

Caught just inside the door didn’t mean he couldn’t see some expectant faces, both young and old, as well as in between. And, yes, they bore smiles, but no smirks. He saw happy smiles that bespoke of a humor that was joyous, not taunting.

I survived the pit when I was in the army. I can survive this.

Out he stepped.

Jingle.

Step.

Jangle.

He began a steady walk, which caused the nickel-plated bells on his harness—no silver here—to ring.

After a few paces, he didn’t pay attention anymore to his steps as he heard the delighted squeals and exclamations from the little ones present.

“Rudolph is leading the sleigh!”

“Look how big he is compared to the other reindeer.”

“He’s beautiful.”

“Look at the size of his rack.”

“Isn’t he handsome?” said a familiar voice. Crystal’s green eyes shone with thanks and affection.

As for Gigi, she didn’t say a word, just stared at him with her bright gaze, her hands clasped in delight and her lips stretched in the biggest, happiest smile.

His chest swelled.
Oh yeah, mission accomplished.

But she wasn’t the only child wanting his attention. Hell, if he was going to do it, might as well do it right. He swung his glance to the other side of the road and let them glory in the best goddamned Rudolph they’d ever seen.

He pranced past Crystal and Gigi, following the marked parade route.

There was something crazily addictive, and, yes, fulfilling about being a part of the parade. Of bringing joy to others. Not that he’d ever admit it.

If his buddies asked how he liked playing Rudolph, he’d be sure to scratch his balls, say it was okay, and stress the fact that he’d done it for the children, not because it turned out he got a kick out of playing the part of a red-nosed freak.

Liking it, though, didn’t mean he wasn’t anxious to finish. As soon as they’d trotted the length of Main Street, back to the hangar they headed, Earl having disembarked out of sight of little faces, lest they realize Santa wasn’t whom he seemed.

Forget following the others to the staging area. Kyle wanted out of this crazy get-up and away from his crew—who seemed to think they could just poop whenever they wanted to. He thanked the fact he stayed ahead of the messes they left behind.

At least they obeyed. He led the mightily impressed reindeer at his back to the stable. They might be simple-minded, but they recognized greatness when they saw it. They respected his rack.

Crystal, minus one little girl, was there to meet him, a wide smile on her face. “You were awesome!”

Of course he was. He tossed his majestic head and, yes, struck a pose. If only Boris, who thought his set of antlers was so great, could have seen it. Kyle’s might not yet have the span that ornery moose possessed, but his was sharper and more deadly.

He was also more handsome.

At least he hoped Crystal thought so as she stroked the fur behind his ears.

“Thank you,” she said as she unhooked him from the traces.

Unable to reply, he snorted.

“Seriously. Gigi couldn’t stop exclaiming about how good you looked. She barely even noticed Santa.” Crystal laughed. “I think Kyle, the knight, might have competition.”

His caribou seemed to find this mightily amusing. Kyle less so.
Wait until she sees what I got her for Christmas. She’ll forget all about Rudolph then, pal.

Jealous of himself? Ironic, but he could live with it.

Speaking of whom, where is my little sweetie?
He made a questioning noise and swung his head side to side.

Crystal decoded his query. “I left her with the other children in the community center lest she realize a certain red nosed reindeer wasn’t who he seemed.”

Good plan. But it made him even more impatient to get unhitched so he could go find her. He wanted to hear firsthand—and yes bask—in her happiness that Rudolph had indeed saved the parade.

As Crystal worked at the leads holding him in the traces, he shuffled on his hooves. He couldn’t wait to get the chafing leather straps off so he could shift back. He also couldn’t wait to plant a kiss on Crystal. And watch some movies. And have the best Christmas ever.

He stood still as Crystal hummed a holiday melody, her nimble hands unbuckling as fast as she could.

They were alone out here, the rest of town having flowed into the community center for the Christmas party planned that night.

Yet even with the raucous sound of many shifters congregated not far away, and the blaring of tacky music, a small sound distracted him. A tiny cry he might have thought he imagined if not for the blanched expression on Crystal’s face.

He didn’t need her whispered “Gigi” to know his little sweetie needed him.

But where was she?

He angled his head and sniffed the air, not scenting a blasted thing, but once again he heard, or more like felt, Gigi’s distress. Homing in on his target, much like a hound, off he took, bells jangling on the damned harness, nose flashing, a bull’s-eye beacon to anyone targeting him. Let them.

Let whoever thought they could scare his sweetie see him coming and fear. Yes fear because he was going to gore the bastard and then trample him for his temerity.

For those who might wonder how a stranger might have slipped in to Kodiak Point and gotten close enough to snag a little girl, it was quite simple. There were a few times a year when strangers blended in and walked among them, mostly unnoticed. The summer months, when the curious tourists flocked while daylight reigned. At weddings, when wild cousins and city ones gathered for a good time. And then there was Christmas, when families and clans and all kinds of shifters came visiting from around the world to spend the holidays together.

So was it difficult for a certain stupid wolf—who’d surely suffered some brain damage, probably from sniffing too much glue—to slip in during the chaos and think to abscond with a precious little girl?

My little girl.

A little girl he would save. Kyle didn’t need to declare a mission in this case. He’d already made a promise, and he would keep it.

He wasn’t alone in his chase. A sleek cougar, her fur a rich gold, bounded ahead of him, still wearing shreds of clothes and…was that a red lace thong? Damn. He would have loved to have torn that off Crystal himself later on. But, no, a certain ex-boyfriend just had to show up and ruin Kyle’s excellent evening.
Someone has a death wish.

A wish he would grant. With Kyle thundering on four hooves through a town he knew too well, Malcolm wouldn’t get far.

But he tried.

Malcolm made it to his truck, parked not far from the ravine, before he whirled around, Gigi in his grasp, her eyes wide with fright.

So unacceptable.

Kyle let out a bellow. Crystal snarled.

Malcom, his eyes wild and bloodshot, his longish dark hair standing every which way, didn’t seem to care. “Stop where you are, or the girl gets it,” he threatened.

What kind of prick threatened a child?

A dead one.

Given the peril to Gigi, Kyle halted, but he pawed the ground, his breath steaming from his nostrils, his muscles clenching and ready for him to spring into action.

He wasn’t alone. Crystal padded slowly toward Malcolm, rumbling a warning growl, which went well with the lip she pulled back in a snarl. A vicious cougar ready to protect her cub.

“Stop right there,” Malcolm threatened. “I mean it. And tell your freaky deer buddy to go away or I will hurt her.”

Deer? Hello, someone needed to brush up on his terminology because Kyle was a caribou and a buck. Which rhymed with
I’m going to kill that fuck.

I’m a poet, and I didn’t even know it.

A gun appeared in Malcolm’s hand, and Kyle’s blood turned cold as the situation escalated. Forget jokes, or rash actions, he needed to focus and act.

The weapon froze Crystal in her tracks. She shifted back to her human form and failed to stifle her frightened sob. “Don’t,” she cried, her bare skin pebbling in the cold. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt her.”

Kyle hated to hear her plead with the prick.

“Tell him to go away.” Malcolm swung the gun at Kyle. “This is none of his business.”

Crystal shot him a frantic look that both asked him to leave and, at the same time, begged him for help.

Leaving wouldn’t solve anything, so Kyle stood his ground, a fact Malcolm noticed.

“Great. A fucking moron. They seem to be everywhere this year.” He sneered. “I always wanted a rack to mount on my wall.”

Under the right circumstance, like now, caribou could and would growl. Kyle lowered his head and pawed the ground, daring him to try.

It was then that the light bulb, which wasn’t very bright, went off in the idiot’s head. “Wait a second. I know your scent. If it isn’t the teddy bear lover who thinks he’s a fucking hero. Anxious for a bullet, are you?”

Not really. Bullets stung, and he’d know. Kyle even had the scars to prove it. But he could handle getting shot if it got him close enough to take care of the prick.
Or at least within reach of my antlers.

Poor sweet, deluded Crystal. She still thought she could negotiate with the insane jerk.

“You can’t expect to get away with this, Malcolm. Let Gigi go.”

He gripped her tighter which in turn made Gigi whimper.

He was surprised his simmering anger didn’t steam from his ears.

Just give me an opening, you bastard.

Malcolm didn’t hear the silent request and kept Gigi as a shield. “Why would I let her go? She’s my ticket to keeping you in line. I know you. I know how much you love this brat. So, when I say to get your ass in the truck or else, I know you’ll listen if you don’t want her to get hurt.”