Page 4 of Christmas with a Chimera (Claw Haven)

A rthur should’ve seen it coming.

The humming. The fake consideration. Emma even scratched her chin the same way she had as a teenager, when she was preparing to tear someone to shreds.

“Go to hell,” she told him. She took a large sip of what he assumed was iced coffee, because, of course, she still enjoyed freezing drinks in the depths of Alaskan winter. “Or should I say go to LA? Same thing. Sorry,” she added to Luna.

Luna laughed, twirling her wedding ring. “No offense taken! City life isn’t for everybody.”

“Right,” Arthur agreed. “Some people prefer places where everybody you walk past knows what you did at a party last Friday, and there’s nowhere to get sushi if you have a 3:00 a.m. craving.”

Emma threw up her hands. “Make some macaroni! Ugh. I knew you’d get worse down there. Do you have someone to do your laundry? Does someone come to your house and clip your claws for you? Do you have your own wing groomer?”

Arthur flexed his wings uncomfortably. He had a different guy for all three of those things. In his defense, he was a very busy chimera.

Luna pushed her chair back. “And that’s my cue! Em, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Emma grumbled something so low Arthur didn’t hear it. But she shrugged, taking another annoyed sip of iced coffee.

“Great,” Luna said brightly. “See you both tomorrow!”

She flounced off, pulling her puffy jacket tight around her as she ducked back into the cold.

Arthur turned back to Emma, who was folding her arms tightly over her Christmas sweater.

Arthur twitched with the urge to pry them apart.

The intensity of it surprised him. He hadn’t thought about that in years—coaxing Emma’s soft side out, nuzzling her cheek, and joking with her until she finally relented.

Her parents, for some strange reason, had taken a while to warm up to him.

But watching him make her smile like that, all relaxed and giddy, was the thing that finally made them approve.

Once, he’d been the only person who could pull Emma out of a truly terrible mood.

Who could make her put down her snappish ways and admit what was really bothering her.

Who could tease a laugh out of her even when she was raging. Now…

“Nice Christmas sweater,” he said.

She scowled. “You finally admit it! You always thought they were cute, you were just too chicken to wear them in case people judged you. News flash, Christmas sweaters are adorable . Asshole.”

Arthur held back a smile. Same old Emma. Any time she felt an emotion she didn’t like, she buried it under a tidal wave of anger. It made sense that seeing him again would trigger all this scowling. He just had to dig deeper to get to the real stuff, like he used to.

Her gaze dropped toward his pants. “Thought you were working on that.”

“Working on what?”

She pointed. He looked down to see his tail… moving . A barely there back and forth as if swaying in a breeze.

Arthur fought back a wince. Tails were usually a dead giveaway for whatever the monster it was attached to was feeling. He prided himself on having an unusually still tail, only moving when a scene called for it.

He stilled it with a gracious laugh. “Down, boy. Thank you, I didn’t even notice. Must be Claw Haven—old habits.”

“Right,” Emma said suspiciously. Still glaring. Still crossing her arms over her chest so tight that the snowman looked like it was being strangled.

Arthur tried again. “How are your parents?”

“Fine,” Emma said stiffly. She hesitated. For a moment, Arthur thought she was going to give him more details, and he found himself surprisingly eager to hear them. He’d always liked her parents. He’d seen them more than his own parents in his teenage years.

“I’m gonna go,” Emma said instead.

She stood up, chair scraping noisily.

Before he could think better of it, he stepped in front of her, blocking her exit.

She rolled her eyes. “Move.”

He briefly thought about extending his wings, then noticed how many tables and chairs he’d knock over if he did. One thing winged monsters were taught young: Don’t get your wings out indoors unless you’re really, really careful.

“You always did love telling me no,” he mused.

“Somebody had to.” She gave him a tight, surprisingly tired smile. Then she pushed past him, shoving all her weight behind it. It took a lot for a human to make a chimera move.

He let her go, following her out into the snowy street. “Come on! I want to apologize.”

She shot him a loathsome look over her shoulder. “No, you don’t. You want to make yourself feel better.”

He held back a frown as he weaved around Christmas shoppers.

He really did want to apologize. She obviously hated his guts, and he couldn’t have that.

And more than that, she clearly had a lot of unresolved issues around this.

She wouldn’t be so angry if she didn’t. She’d been getting better with her anger before he left, and he’d assumed she’d keep working on it.

Seeing her beyond thirty and still snapping at people who didn’t deserve it was…

disconcerting. That employee back at the café, Hazel, had seemed genuinely scared of her. There was no way Emma wanted that.

“I really do want to apologize,” he called after her. “Our last talk didn’t go how I wanted it to.”

Emma walked into the street, almost getting sideswiped by a car.

Arthur jogged after her, shooting the driver an apologetic wave.

She stopped just before the sidewalk, Cozy Grotto Café right in front of her.

He could see Rusty through the window talking to one of the camera crew.

The lighting rig was set up, the extras were being directed to their seats, and a makeup artist was fixing his costar’s hair as she leaned on the counter, tapping away at her phone.

He knew he should go in. But all he could focus on was Emma, who turned to him with murder in her eyes.

“Oh, didn’t it?” she spat. “You mean the talk where you left me on Christmas Eve ? I had to go back to my parents and tell them why I was crying! You ruined Christmas!”

Arthur’s traitorous heart twisted in his chest. He hated that he’d made her cry. She cried so rarely. He’d been shocked to see the first tear roll down her cheek as she yelled at him. Calling him a coward, a liar; vowing she’d never talk to him again.

“I invited you,” he said, shocked at how much effort it took to keep his voice even. “ You’re the one who said no. You could’ve come.”

She laughed up at him. “I was never going to come to LA! I’m not a city girl—I’m a Claw Haven girl. This is where I belong! And I’m super fucking happy! I wake up every day ecstatic that I didn’t follow you to that vapid, empty, pointless city!”

“I’m happy it worked out for you,” he said, clenching his teeth to keep the smile up.

He should’ve realized she would test him.

Nobody pushed his buttons like Emma, even after all these years.

Fortunately, he was a good actor. Maybe it had been so long that even the legendary Emma Curt wouldn’t be able to see through him.

Emma made a frustrated noise. “Ugh! I can’t look at you, you’re too annoying. Don’t screw up my café.”

She stalked off down the street, shoppers parting as they noticed her fiery gaze.

He watched her go, marveling at the least successful interaction he’d had in the last decade. He used to watch her in class and wonder how such a small human could contain so much rage. What were the odds that she still did the same things to de-stress?

He cupped his hands over his mouth. “Go easy on the Cool Whip!”

She whirled on him, glaring. He allowed himself a smug grin. He so rarely got the last word with her. Then she opened her mouth, and he remembered there was a reason he didn’t.

“Your sunglasses are stupid,” she called back. “You look like a spoiled, out-of-touch jackass!”

Then she turned around and kept walking.

Arthur let her, hoping none of the people looking his way were interested in giving a news outlet a quote.

He’d worked hard on his public image. Getting into a screaming match with an old flame would be his first speck of dirt on an otherwise spotless record.

* * *

He ducked into the café, shaking snow off his wings.

Rusty rushed up, brushing the last flakes out of his mane. “Hey! Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere important.” Arthur was annoyed to see his tail flicking, narrowly avoiding hitting a PA who was carrying a tray of coffee. He stilled it, smiling wider. “Are we ready?”

“Yeah, just setting up—”

Arthur cut him off with a gasp. There was a familiar face over near the far tables. A minotaur was sprucing up a vase of flowers and looking decidedly uncomfortable.

“Joshua Haberdash,” he crowed, swerving around Rusty toward the minotaur, who jumped at the sound of his name. He looked surprised to see Arthur heading his way, his snout twisting up in a baffled smile as Arthur clapped him on the shoulder.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feelings Emma had given him. Joshua was always good for a mood boost.

“Look at you!” he continued. “You finally hit your growth spurt!”

“Ha. Yeah, sure.” Joshua gave him another nervous grin. “Growth spurt” was a joke; Joshua had always been huge, though he tried to hide it by hunching into his shoulders. He still had that annoying patch of fur hanging over his eyes, constantly getting brushed back behind his horns.

“You look great,” Arthur said, relieved for an easy interaction. Joshua was always easy to talk to, happy to let Arthur chatter on while he nodded. Very agreeable guy. He even let Arthur copy his homework a few times.

“Thanks,” Joshua said. “So do you, man. Um, I think your director wants to talk to you.”

“He always does,” Arthur said. He gave Joshua another shoulder clap. “Good to see you, bud! Hope you enjoy your little glimpse into the movie world.”

“It’s pretty fun,” Joshua said. “I’m just the flower guy.”

“And you’re doing great.” Arthur shot him a thumbs-up and headed back over to Rusty, who was standing there with his hands on his hips, watching Arthur with that look that meant he wanted everything to happen much faster. But he still pulled up a tense smile, giving Arthur a questioning thumbs-up.

“You good?”

“I’m fantastic.” Arthur shook his mane out, trying to hold on to the brief boost that seeing Joshua had given him.

He hadn’t expected to be happy to see anybody in town, so Joshua had been a nice surprise.

But the uncomfortable feelings were creeping back, unwanted and unearned.

She couldn’t get mad at him for something that had happened when they were teenagers .

They were over thirty now. It was ancient history.

Rusty snapped his fingers in front of his muzzle. “Hey! Movie star!”

“I’m here,” Arthur said. “Where do you want me?”

Rusty gave him a dubious look, but pointed at his mark—right in front of Jennifer Hertzman, who waved enthusiastically.

“Hey,” she said, batting her makeup guy away and pulling Arthur into a careful hug. “How are you? This place is a winter wonderland—you never said!”

“It was less of a wonderland when I lived here,” he admitted, accepting her hug gratefully. Jennifer was fun and uncomplicated, everything he liked in a girl. Everything he liked in a person , period.

“Don’t let the PR team hear you say that,” she laughed as she pulled back. “I overheard the extras whispering.”

Arthur’s ear twitched. “Oh?”

She giggled, thankfully not noticing his unease. “Yeah! Everyone’s so excited you’re back. I bet you’re pumped .”

“You bet.” He flashed his fangs and let the makeup guy come at him with a comb, straightening his whiskers.

He hadn’t even noticed they were crooked.

The makeup guy took the sunglasses next, and Arthur tried not to think about what Emma had told him.

They weren’t stupid . Rusty had assured him he made them work.

Rusty raised a megaphone. “Alright! Everybody, positions!”

Arthur rolled his shoulders, watching everyone get into place.

He couldn’t quite remember which scene they were doing.

His mind kept drifting back to the raw fury in Emma’s eyes as she hissed at him on the street.

She always told him to stop hiding everything under a smile, but she hid, too.

She just hid behind her anger. In Arthur’s opinion, his was the better tactic.

Everybody wanted to be smiled at. Nobody wanted to be screamed at.

“Hey,” he whispered to Jennifer as Rusty made one last adjustment with the lighting crew. “Were my sunglasses stupid?”

She blinked, pausing the pre-scene jumping jacks she always did before a take. “What?”

“The sunglasses I was wearing before,” he explained. “I could pull them off, right?”

She laughed. “Of course! You’re Arthur Pineclaw. You can pull off anything.”

It was just what he needed to hear. He winked at her, his lines flowing back into his head as easy as flipping a switch.

They were doing the meeting scene, the two lovers from the big city running into each other in a middle-of-nowhere town.

His character was confident, aloof, and charming—his favorite kind of character to play. He did it every day, after all.

“Alright,” Rusty called. “And…action!”