After crying myself to the point of exhaustion, I fell asleep on poor Conrad. He was too kind to object. At eight in the morning, the chiming of the clock roused me partway to consciousness. Conrad put his arm around my shoulders and squeezed.

“Come on. It’s Christmas morning, Mera. Time to wake up.”

I rubbed my face in the fur of his upper arm. Then, realizing what I was doing, I pulled away.

Too late. It was all mussed and matted.

“Geez.” I tried to pat it back into some kind of order. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t bother. You got too much snot in it. I’ll have to shower before we go downstairs.”

I blushed. “I don’t think you’re paid enough to put up with me.”

“You’re my pack.”

And that was that. The only answer he needed.

“Are you going to be all right?” he asked.

I forced a smile. It was weak and felt strained, but I managed it. “I have to be. It’s Christmas, and I know you guys are mostly doing this for me. What kind of an ungrateful wretch would I be if I couldn’t make with the cheer and the ‘ho-ho-ho?’”

Conrad tilted his head. “You know, I didn’t realize how much I’d missed Christmas trees until I saw them up this year. It might have started out for you, but I don’t think it’s like that anymore.”

He stood and helped me to my feet.

“You could use a shower too,” he said.

I laughed. “Tactless.”

“Honest,” he rejoined.

“Well, you’re not wrong. I’ll meet you downstairs. But first we’ll have to get the others. Oh! Can I wake up Olivia?”

“Shower first.”

I planned on waking up Olivia with a magnificent, off-key rendition of “Jingle Bells,” but my performance was canceled. She was already awake and downstairs by the time I got out of my bath—which I thought was really rude of her.

She was waiting in the entrance hall with everyone else. Someone had gathered up a few chairs and put them around the Christmas tree. Jacky sat on one. Iset was on another. Darius, Olivia, and Conrad were all standing. The hall’s side table was pulled away from the wall. It held oranges, apples, unshelled peanuts, and a selection of coffee and cocoa. Kappa was hiding under the table, staring at the presents with rapt attention. At first I wondered why he was there, but then I realized that might be as close as he was allowed to get.

I paused halfway down the stairs so I could watch the scene and take a moment to feel like the luckiest person on the planet. I would miss my three little friends, but at least I wasn’t alone.

My sentimental moment ended when Darius glanced up from his cup of coffee and noticed me standing there.

“Good morning, Emerra,” he said.

I grinned. “Merry Christmas, all!”

When I finished bounding down the stairs, Conrad handed me a mug. Inside was a half cocoa, half coffee, just the way I liked it.

“What took you so long?” he asked.

I sipped the drink, then muttered to him, “I couldn’t find my phone.”

“You lost it?”

“I’ll find it later.”

We both looked around when Darius clapped his hands. “All right, let’s get this Christmas started. Now, before Kappa explodes from excitement, could someone please hand him his present.”

I’m pretty sure Kappa liked the rock Conrad gave him. He didn’t say he did—he was too busy staring at it to say anything. To me it looked gray and boring, but he reverently lifted it out of the box and glommed onto it with both hands and both feet. The way he gazed at it made me wonder if the answers to all the great mysteries of the universe were hidden there.

Olivia got a brand-new set of the highest quality potion-making equipment possible. It was from Igor. The man knew the importance of good tools, and when you thought about it, there wasn’t much difference between cooking a fine soup and brewing a potion.

I got unreasonably excited when Jacky opened his present from Darius. It was Pente—one of the few two-player strategy games Jack Noctis didn’t already own, and my personal favorite.

Jacky held up the box. “You know this game?”

“There was a copy in the hospital,” I explained.

“And you like it?”

“Sure! It’s fast, and the rules are easy. Even I can play it.”

Jacky hummed.

“Hey! Just because the rules are easy doesn’t mean the game is easy.”

“But if even you can play it—”

“That’s it! You and me! After breakfast! I hope you like the taste of humble pie.”

“Emerra, you know I can’t eat.”

Iset loved the amethyst geode Kappa gave her. When she was able to drag his attention away from his own rock long enough to thank him for it, he padded over and sat in front of her chair to inspect it.

“Kappa,” I said, “remember that’s hers. You gave it to her.”

“Rock with teeth.” He gnashed his own teeth.

Iset laughed and hauled him up onto her lap so they could look at their rocks together.

My package was big, awkward, and seemed to be several boxes wrapped together. It was from Iset, and when I opened it, I let out an involuntary gasp. Her voice floated over my shoulders as I gawked at the array of paper, brushes, and art supplies.

“I’m afraid I didn’t know your favorite medium. I wasn’t even sure if you knew. If you find something you like, I hope you’ll tell me so we can get you better supplies. And if you run out of anything, let me know.”

The count leaned over my precious hoard. “That’s not a bad idea. You can carry around a sketchbook and pencil in case you have another vision.”

“Darius,” Iset chided, “this isn’t about her visions. She likes art.”

“Right. Right. I mean”—he motioned to the Christmas tree and all my homemade ornaments—“she’s got a talent for creativity. But still.”

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I opened the biggest box. There were charcoal pencils, colored pencils, pastels, markers, and crayons. The overwhelming amount of colors made me feel richer than a queen. All I could manage to say was “Thank you, Iset!” but I made it nice and loud. Maybe that would get my feelings across.

Conrad opened his gift while we all looked on.

“Movies.” He sounded puzzled.

I didn’t blame him. It was quite the eclectic collection. There was Winged Migration, The Illusionist, and Inception, as well as The Godfather and Spirited Away.

“Look inside,” I said. “You have to open them again.”

He gave me an odd look, but he opened one of the cases. On the inner left side was a note. Since he’d opened Spirited Away, it happened to be my note. My name was on the outside of the neatly folded paper. On the inside was the letter I had written while Olivia stood over me, glaring, since I had put the job off until Christmas Eve.

“I know you’re a movie buff,” Olivia explained, “so I got you a copy of our favorite movies and had everyone write about why they liked them so much.”

“That’s really thoughtful, Olivia.” You could hear the sincerity in Conrad’s voice. The guy was touched. “Thank you. I look forward to watching them.”

Darius motioned to the remaining box under the tree. “Is that last one mine then?”

Noctis stood up. “Uh, no. I’m afraid I didn’t know how to wrap your gift—more than it was already wrapped.”

He reached into his suit coat, pulled out an envelope, and passed it over to the count.

Darius raised an eyebrow as he examined the blank envelope. Then he opened it. When he saw the contents, he laughed.

That ratcheted my self-satisfaction up a notch or two. And the fun was only beginning.

“What is it?” Iset asked.

“It’s a ticket for an upcoming Philharmonic show,” Darius said.

When he went to pull out the ticket, his smile wavered, so I knew he’d caught his mistake even before Jacky corrected him.

“There are two tickets,” Noctis said. “I’ve been informed that two tickets are the traditional gift. In case you want to bring a companion.”

The count cleared his throat, let out a quiet “ah,” then raised his eyes. The first thing he saw was my evil grin.

Who was he going to take? That was the million-dollar question.

With perverse joy, I watched the vampire consider his options.

Conrad sat back, secure in the knowledge that he was exempt. Jacky clearly had no idea what was going on, and a man that obtuse probably wouldn’t know how to enjoy a concert. I didn’t think Darius would waste the ticket. Sure enough, his eyes glided right over Noctis.

There wasn’t a good answer, so Vasil settled for an easy one. After all, he knew I had been the one behind the tickets in the first place.

“Emerra?”

If he thought I was going to let him get away without asking me directly, he had another think coming. I was ready to yank those words out with pliers if I had to.

I hummed politely to show I was listening.

“Would you…would you like to come?”

I raised my nose high in the air and announced, “Classical music is a snoozefest for people that have no sense of rhythm.”

He knew he deserved that. You could tell by his smirk.

He turned to the witch.

“Olivia?”

She took a breath in through her teeth. “Gosh. A whole evening listening to a bunch of strings squeak out a melody that’s older than dirt. Tempting, but I’m going to be busy that night.”

“I don’t suppose it matters which night it is?”

“Nope!”

He started looking around again. Before he thought about inviting Igor, I decided to nudge him in the proper direction.

“You should take Iset!”

“That’s a great idea!” Olivia said.

“She likes music.”

“And I could do a charm so she could go out in public.” Olivia said to the mummy, “That would be really good practice, don’t you think?”

Despite the bandages, I could sense the amusement and embarrassment pouring off her.

“I don’t usually go out,” she said.

“Which can’t be healthy,” I said.

Olivia and I stared at Darius.

The count knew he’d been had. He gave both of us a look before turning to the mummy.

“What do you say, Iset? Would you be kind enough to accompany me?”

That was the longest second of at least three lives: the count’s, Olivia’s, and mine. As it stretched on, I began to wonder if Iset might say no. That possibility had never occurred to me.

To my intense relief, she said, “Yes, Darius. I would enjoy that.”

I was going to treasure the memory of that vampire’s smile for the rest of my second life. When he finally managed to subdue it, he turned back to the tree.

“Then that last present?”

“It’s for Igor,” I said. “Why isn’t he out here?”

“I invited him, but he claimed he was too busy,” Noctis said.

“He couldn’t pause for five minutes?”

“That’s what he said. I didn’t want to argue with him.”

Did Igor really think he could get out of it that easily? Ha!

I picked up the package. “Then I’ll take it to him.”

Not surprisingly, Igor was in the kitchen, grumbling away as he worked. What was surprising was the number of pots and cutting boards scattered over the counters.

“Igor,” I said, “you didn’t come out to open presents.”

“No, I didn’t,” he said. “I have work to do. Didn’t you hear? I have to do a feast! I was up at five this morning.”

“You’re a king, Igor! Master of your craft and beloved by all the peasants.”

He sniffed at me. “What are you doing here? If you want breakfast, it’s going to be cold cereal. You can manage that, can’t you?”

“Not a problem. I can fix it however you want. Milk first. Cereal first. I’m well trained.”

“Then shoo.”

“But I have your present!”

“Who’s it from?”

“Me!”

“Oh, lord.”

I bounced over and prodded him with the box. “Please, Igor! I want to see your face when you open it.”

“I’m busy, Emerra.”

I gazed around at the neat stacks of ingredients. Each pile was waiting its turn while he moved from project to project—never hurrying, but never pausing.

“I can open if for you,” I suggested.

He glanced at me.

I finished with, “Then all you’ll have to do is look up.”

There was a thoughtful pause, then he scoffed. “You just want to tear open another present.”

I tried my puppy-dog eyes on him.

“Oh, fine,” he said.

“Thank you, Igor!”

I moved over to the dining table, where I wouldn’t be in his way, stripped the ribbon, tore off the wrapping paper and lifted the lid away from the box. Then I turned and held up the gift for the admiration of my audience.

Igor raised his eyes for the agreed millisecond. He froze in the middle of his double-take and stared.

“Is that…”

“Yup!” I chirped. “I noticed your old apron was getting pretty worn, so I got you a new one!”

He stared some more.

I grinned. “Do you hate it?”

His strangled answer was “You know…I really, really do.”

I laughed.

It was a high-quality apron, but across the chest, in bold letters, it read, KISS THE COOK. Beside that was a lurid red lip print.

“Come on!” I motioned to him with it. “Let’s try it on.”

I made him take off his old apron, then dropped the new one over his head. As he put the other one down, I went around behind him to tie the bow. Then I turned him around so I could look at it.

“Oh, wow,” I said, “that is awful.”

He looked down at himself with a lopsided smile. “Ghastly.”

“See! Now, if you ever want something to complain about, you can wear this and talk about how hideous it is!”

He eyed me with the larger of his two eyes. “You’re a strange creature, Emerra Cole.”

I leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for all your hard work, Igor.”

“Back, imp!” He fended me off with a wooden spoon. “Out!”

I stole his old apron so he couldn’t put it back on and yelled Merry Christmas as I went. I didn’t bother telling him about the apron I’d left in the package. I figured he’d see it when he went to throw the box away. It was nothing but a boring copy of his old apron—you know, for the days he already had enough to complain about.

Jacky was waiting for me by the dining room.

“Emerra, there’s one last gift for you.”

“Under the tree?”

“No.” He beckoned me with his skeletal finger. I followed him into the sitting room.

We stood in front of the fireplace. From the way he was watching me, I figured I was missing something. I glanced around, trying to clue in to what that might be.

“The stockings,” he said. “I thought that was traditional.”

Maybe Jacky was getting the hang of Christmas.

“Did Santa leave it for me?” I asked.

“No, I did.”

Or not.

I went over to the middle stocking. Something in it was tugging the fabric of the toe into a right angle. I reached in and pulled out my cell.

As I stared at the phone in my hand, Jacky went on, “However, our visitor last night was the author and constructor of the gift, so he deserves the credit.”

“You were by my bed last night.”

“Yes. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion.”

I turned to him, more puzzled than ever. “Jacky, you gave me this phone months ago.”

“You misunderstand. The gift isn’t the phone, it’s on your phone. Check the photos.”

My heartbeat started to speed up. By the time I opened my gallery app, my fingers were shaking.

Jacky came up behind me and looked over my shoulder.

“He said that he had to be in the shot or they wouldn’t show up.” Noctis shrugged. “But it’s possible he just likes publicity.”

It was Jacob, Jan, and Anna. All of them were smiling, or, in Jan’s case, laughing. An old man in a red fur-lined cloak had his arms around them. His smiling face was close to theirs.

A tiny “how?” managed to squeeze around the lump in my throat.

I had tried. The gods knew, we had tried to photograph them, tried to record them, tried to get any form of digital evidence that they were real. It never worked. Not even when they were standing in the magic circle.

Jacky said, “My understanding is that this season has a special kind of magic. It makes things possible.”

I covered my mouth with my other hand.

“I don’t normally take photographs,” Jacky said, “but Jacob coached me on how to do it, and they insisted we keep trying until we got one that he and Anna approved of. Do you like it?” He sounded nervous.

What must have been the last two tears in my entire body squeezed out and ran down my cheeks. I swallowed and looked up at Jacky.

“It’s perfect.”