Page 42 of Run, Run Rudolph (Fairy Godmothers and Other Fiascos #2)

~ Tamara ~

H ugo fed Rudolph the bowl of goopy, brown disgustingness that had set Haden back around three hundred dollars, and made Jannifer that much richer.

For the sake of Christmas, I hoped the elf’s homemade concoction worked.

I also hoped that Blitzen didn’t spill it, as he’d convinced himself Rudolph was getting a ‘wobbly pop,’ which was what he called my cooler of yukaflux.

He kept trying to stick his head in Rudolph’s bowl, their antlers knocking each other about, the liquid sloshing precariously close to the rim.

“Boys!” I scolded, giving Rudolph the opportunity to successfully lick up the last bit of the elf’s potion.

I froze, swearing I’d heard sleigh bells.

“Is that Mrs. Claus?” I asked.

I heard the bells again. Unable to contain my excitement, even though I knew she was supposedly some sort of angry black witch, I grabbed Haden’s hand.

“Mrs. Claus is here! She’s here!” I dragged him toward the barn doors, not pausing to grab our coats first.

Outside, a woman in a svelte red outfit, with white fur trim, was standing, feet wide apart, arms crossed as she glowered at the smashed sleigh parked beside the barn.

Snow swirled around her under the yard light.

Her white hair was done in stylish short spikes, emphasizing her striking, high cheekbones.

“I hear my husband has run into trouble,” she said in a low, cold tone as I came to a halt just outside the barn doors. Haden bumped into me from behind, his right arm circling my middle as he clutched me against him to prevent us from tumbling to the ground.

Mrs. Claus, in all of her very tall glory, marched toward us. There didn’t seem to be a speck of her that resembled the image I was expecting to see. She was slim, younger than Santa, and scary. She pointed a gloved finger in my face like it was a magic wand.

“You? You’re the one who started all of this?”

I nodded mutely, my eyes crossing as I focused on her fingertip, worried it might start glowing with pent-up black magic.

She pointed to Haden, who was still behind me, arms slung around my middle. “And you can both see and hear everything that’s going on?”

I felt him nod, his warm exhale creating a cloud in the frigid night air.

Mrs. Claus’s lips pursed and her eyes narrowed. “We’ll deal with that later.”

I swallowed hard and shared a look with Haden.

Behind Mrs. Claus, the reindeer were hitched to a rather plain, red sleigh. They pawed the ground and looked at their hooves, avoiding eye contact. Obviously, they had no plans to do anything other than stay clear of Mrs. Claus’s radar.

“Santa’s in the barn,” I whispered, unable to find my voice. I shivered in the freezing late-night temps and Haden tightened his hold. My Christmas sweatshirt was cozy, but no match for the weather.

Haden shuffled us away from the doorway.

“We’ll get out of your way,” he said diplomatically. “As I’m sure the reindeer have brought you up to speed on the…issues we’re facing.”

“They most certainly have.” She gave me a glare, as if I’d intentionally mowed down Rudolph, then flouted all of the rules of her queendom.

I shared a quick look with Haden as Mrs. Claus continued to stare us down.

Maybe I should have made a wish to Estelle and suffered the possible financial woes as a result, because this woman was terrifying. For the first time tonight, I felt the full gravity of what the reindeer and elf had tried to warn me about.

This could be the kind of trouble that was impossible to escape, even with a hefty dose of logic, and a sound argument couched with good intentions.

Haden, who’d released me, was in a bow like he was greeting royalty. He gestured to the open door beside us. “Your…highness?”

“Oh, enough grovelling.” Mrs. Claus pushed past us with an unimpressed huff, muttering something that sounded a lot like “men” as she entered the barn. But I noticed the flicker of pleasure in a tiny smile as she passed Haden.

Soon, the woman’s loud, scolding voice echoed through the structure. She barely paused for breath while scrambling ensued. I’d laugh if she wasn’t so terrifying.

Why did the world believe Santa’s wife was a sweet, rotund, cookie-bearing woman? I suppose nobody got the warm and fuzzies from a tough woman whose personality leaned closer to Snarky’s. Too bad I couldn’t exactly lock her in my trunk when I grew tired of her.

And seriously? Her and Santa? Talk about opposites attract. She was the grumpy to his sunshine. And the black magic to his white. No wonder they were having relationship issues.

Haden and I, hunched as deep into our shirts as we could go to battle off the cold wind, approached the reindeer hitched to the old sleigh.

“What took so long?” I asked them.

The reindeer huffed, but didn’t reply. Had they been forbidden from talking to me?

“It’s a lot smaller,” Haden said, running a hand over the sleigh, “but at least, it’s not smashed, and still flies. Looks pretty good.”

A small face peeked up over the sleigh’s side and I startled. It was a trembling female elf in a green and red stripped hat.

“Is she gone?” she asked in a tiny voice.

“Mrs. Claus is in the barn,” I said gently. “I’m Tamara. This is Haden.”

The elf’s eyes grew very large, and she shrunk down again, disappearing back into the sleigh.

I exchanged a glance with Haden and asked the reindeer, “Should we unhook you?”

They shook their heads furiously.

“So, then, what can we do to help?”

Nobody replied.

“She seems pretty upset,” I offered, gesturing to the barn.

“Very,” one of the reindeer muttered.

“I thought she was going to shoot us.”

“There’s still time,” Donner mumbled.

“I wouldn’t look good above the fireplace,” Cupid replied.

“Never seen her like this before.”

“Not even when Dasher ran the training sleigh through her garden.”

“But at least she came.” My remark was met with silence, and my hope that all would be neatly wrapped up and taken care of wobbled and waned.

Haden, who was breathing into his cupped hands to keep them warm, shoulders hunched up near his ears against the cold, said, “Not to be a chicken or to shirk responsibility, but I think maybe we’d better make ourselves scarce. I have a feeling things are going to get scary.”