A Christmas to Dismember, Addison Moore [howl and other poems .TXT] 📗

both Leo and Huxley at Preston Jewelers. I didn’t exactly tell Leo or Huxley that I was working them both just yet. But they’re smart boys. They’ll figure it out as soon as they see one another sorting through rings.

I still can’t believe they’re both plotting their matrimonial moves at the very same time, in December no less when my free time has been cut down to nil—not to mention the fact Quinn Bennet was slaughtered right here on the grounds of his most treasured piece of real estate. And how I hate the irony. But nevertheless, I’ll move heaven and this inn to help both Leo and Hux give their prospective brides the proposals of their dreams.

Emmie nods. “She’s investigating. Where are you off to, Biz?”

I shrug. “I thought I’d start with that woman who sang ‘Silent Night.’”

“She was good,” Emmie muses. “Is she staying at the inn?”

“Pfft.” Georgie takes a seat next to me. “What fun would that be? Here’s hoping we find her in some seedy nightclub in Edison where they make women like me dance in cages while men with hairy chests, wearing thick gold chains, throw nickels at us.” She looks my way. “I’ve got a pair of go-go boots that haven’t go-goed in a long time. My waist may have expanded, but my feet remain the same. I’ll go-go dust ’em off.”

Juni enters the café and slogs on over. Her hair is mussed, her mascara is smeared, and she’s wearing a fuzzy pink bathrobe.

“Coffee, pancakes, bacon,” she mutters to no one in particular.

Sherlock sits up at attention, and Juni gives him a quick scratch.

“Yeah, yeah,” she gravels out the words. “Make it extra bacon.”

Sherlock gives a cheery bark. We’ll need bacon for Rudolph, too. He’s got a long flight ahead of him, and Christmas Eve will be here before we know it.

Fish mewls, Oh, for Pete’s sake, Sherlock. Jasper was just teasing. Rudolph isn’t a reindeer and he’s not flying with Santa on the big night. If you don’t stop believing in silly things, you’ll end up on the naughty list. Naughty dogs don’t find bacon in their stocking. They find something called coal. I hear it’s not nearly as delicious.

Sherlock whimpers my way. Bizzy, please tell me coal tastes like bacon. I can’t stand the suspense.

I shake my head over at him.

“But don’t worry. You’re a good little doggie,” I say, giving his head a scratch. “Once Rudolph leads that flight, you might even find a dinosaur bone under the tree.”

Fish groans. Et tu, Bizzy? You’re not making my job any easier.

Rudolph begins to bark and squirm. I’d like to try this bacon for myself. And I can’t wait to fly through the sky just like I did last night. He licks my face with a marked enthusiasm. Who knows? Bacon just might be the key to get me to remember something else from that horrible scene.

“Right.” I laugh as I tilt my head from side to side while he offers up his kisses. “Someone is feeling frisky and he’s willing to do and say anything for bacon.”

“I’m on it. I’d do anything for that face,” Emmie says, quickly disappearing to the back.

“Me too,” Georgie howls, giving Rudolph’s forehead a quick scratch.

“Me three.” Juni dots a kiss to his nose.

“Good,” I say as I pull the baby sling off of me and hold Rudolph out toward Georgie and Juni. “Which one of you wants to drop Rudolph off at the vet for me this morning? I’m running late. I told Leo and Hux I’d help them pick out rings because their lucky plus ones are getting a proposal for Christmas.”

Georgie’s jaw roots to the floor. “Lucky Emmie. Unlucky Hux.” She shrugs. “Eh. He never was the brightest bulb of the Baker bunch.”

I wrinkle my nose. “If Mackenzie says yes, she’ll be wife number four.”

Juni’s chest bucks. “How about that? He’s turning out to be a wife collector just like your daddy.” She takes Rudolph from me.

“Mmm.” I moan through another quick bite of peppermint bark. “That could be the best news I’ve heard all day. That would mean Mackenzie Woods was just a passing phase.”

Someone from behind clears their throat in an obnoxious manner and my shoulders hike as I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Tell me it’s not her,” I mutter.

“It’s her,” Mackenzie crows from behind.

Juni snorts out a laugh as she kisses the feisty puppy in her arms. “I’ll take the wee one to the vet. I’ve got to take Sprinkles, too.” Sprinkles is Juni’s peppy little fur baby she adopted a few months back.

Sherlock barks. I’m coming, too! Don’t worry, Rudolph. If they try to put the cone of shame on you, I’ll bite their toes off.

Sherlock has yet to forgive me for that.

Rudolph yelps in a panic as Juni and Sherlock head off to find a table.

I turn and smile at the stony-faced brunette before me.

“Mayor Woods.” An elastic smile stretches across my face. Mackenzie Woods is the exact reason why I have this little supernatural talent of mine. We were at a Halloween party in our teens and near ground zero for bobbing for apples when Mack decided to shove me into a whiskey barrel filled with water.

Four things happened to me that day. I developed an irrational fear of confined spaces, I’m terrified of immersing myself in a body of water, it kicked off a lifetime distrust of Mackenzie Woods, and last, but never least, I walked away with the ability to pry into other people’s minds. I’m transmundane, further classified as telesensual, meaning I have the ability to listen in on other people’s private musings. I suppose I’ve always been transmundane, but Mack’s desire to plunge me to the bottom of that barrel and hold me under was the event that awakened those abilities in me. Anyway, she recently revealed that she did it on a dare initiated from my brother. Go figure. Turns out, they’ve been an evil team from the very beginning.

I lift my chin her