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Christmas had finally arrived in New York City. It didn’t come with a roar like most people expected it to. This year, it came with a whisper.
The gentlest snowfall was beginning to cover the streets, giving the sidewalks tiny white spots and the windows a thin layer of frost. It wasn’t unbearable to walk through yet, but it was a signal that true winter snow was coming.
The tourists and locals alike were walking around with shopping bags in hand, and the stores were beginning to plaster their holiday sale signs up in the window. There was still plenty of time before the 25th, but everywhere someone looked, they were given the reminder that the holiday was right around the corner.
If someone were to really look for a signal that Christmas was coming in the city, they just needed to step into the Dakota. No floor was more decorated than the penthouse, as there was a massive wreath hanging in between the portraits. Every screen on the wall of televisions was depicting a Christmas movie whether it be an old claymation special, a romcom classic, or a black-and-white staple. The speaker system hidden behind it blared the opening notes to The Waitresses’ “Christmas Wrapping,” making the bouncy tune the only thing one could hear.
The highlight of the space was the tall Christmas tree standing from floor to ceiling. It was tucked into a corner of the living room, placed beside the windows overlooking Central Park. It wasn’t totally decorated yet, but some ornaments and tinsel had been placed on the lower half. The upper half was being worked on by the Vampire Burton, his body hovering beside the top of the tree. He tucked a silver garland into its branches while quietly singing along to the song, pushing himself back to examine his work. When he was satisfied, he grabbed onto the piece of garland still dangling and continued his work.
Guy Anatole was placed on a stepladder on the opposite side, his human companion tucking poinsettias into any open space he could find. Once he picked up on Burton’s singing, he couldn’t help but chuckle and bring his head around to see him.
“I didn’t think this kind of Christmas music was your type.”
Burton stopped singing and looked down at him with a raised brow. “And just who do you think I am? Those stuffy vampires who think Mozart is the only kind of musician to ever exist?”
Guy awkwardly shrugged. “Well, yeah.”
Burton scoffed. “Please. When you’ve lived as long as I have, Guy, the old-fashioned, church hymn Christmas music of yore gets old very quickly.” He returned to his garland and shook his head. “Have you noticed how depressing and monotone they all sound? I mean, this is Christmas we’re talking about! We’re supposed to be celebrating, not hosting a funeral.”
Guy chuckled and nodded to himself. “Can I assume you’re the only vampire around here that feels that way?”
“Oh, not the only one for sure. But definitely in the minority.” Burton dramatically sighed. “I just hope the party isn’t an absolute drag.”
Guy had learned several days before that all of Manhattan’s vampires were invited to a private Christmas ball at the Plaza every year. It wasn’t so much a traditional Christmas party with presents and games and holiday cheer like he expected. It was more like an expensive cocktail hour with one unlucky human serving as a present for all attending. At first, Guy had been touched that Burton had put in a good word for him to attend as his plus one. But once he learned the true manner of the evening, he was starting to question his companion’s true motivations.
“Hey, um…I’m going to make it home from this party alive, right?” Guy asked, poking his head around the side of the tree.
Burton placed his hand over his heart in offense. “After all we’ve been through, you really think I would put you in harm’s way like that?”
“Trust in the supernatural hasn’t exactly worked in my favor before.”
“Big Guy, I can assure you that you will not be this year’s Christmas dinner. Our benevolent host is always the one who picks the meal. To him, you are simply a name on the guest list. And if anyone tries to sneak in dessert, I’ll make sure that they wish they hadn’t.”
Guy fought back the rising color in his cheeks, keeping his eyes on Burton from below. He focused on the vampire’s mind long enough to peer into it, hearing his gentle inner voice speak back to him from within.
“I promise.”
The sincerity in his tone and kind green eyes staring down at him told Guy everything he needed. As a cherry on top, Burton slashed an X over his chest.
“Cross my heart,” he said aloud.
Guy allowed himself to smile back then returned to his work, placing the last of the poinsettias in an open space.
“I’ve located the last of the ornaments, Burton.”
Both men looked over at the new voice that had entered the living room. Pretty walked in with a small white bin in her hands, the contents inside of various colors.
Moving to stand under Burton, she asked, “Where would you like me to put them?”
Burton clasped his hands together and gasped as he looked down. “Oh, I was starting to think I put them in storage! Thank you, Pretty. Guy will take them.”
Pretty nodded then walked around to Guy’s ladder, holding up the bin for him to take. Guy nodded as he took it, quietly adding, “Thanks, Pretty.”
As she stepped out, Burton flew down to Guy’s level and hovered over the top step on the ladder.
As he watched him pry the lid open, Guy asked, “What’s different about these ornaments?”
“These are some of my most prized in my collection. These are the all-time favorites, the crown jewels, the ones I’ve held onto for hundreds of years. They are one-of-a-kind, and I treasure them dearly. Like this one.”
Burton scooped up a silver box sitting on top of the pile and gently placed it in his palm. He pried the lid off and waited for Guy to lean over to see what was inside.
Sitting amongst velvet lining was a silver Faberge egg. It was much smaller in size than others of its kind, the smooth surface dotted with silver webbing that wrapped around the entire piece. A thin gold chain looped through the top, allowing Burton to grab it and dangle it in between them. Guy was enamored by the ornament as he watched it spin in place, almost tempted to reach out and touch it. He held himself back, though. Just by seeing it, he knew it was too precious for his own mortal hands.
“What is it?” he asked Burton breathlessly.
“This is my favorite one of all. Before it was mine, this was the Nécessaire, one of the original Faberge eggs crafted all the way back in 1889. This beauty once lived on a shelf in the Romanov Palace, collecting dust for all the Russian royals to admire. The stories say that it was originally given as an Easter present from the Tsar to the Tsarina, but that’s not the case. I mean, Easter? Really? This fine artifact clearly screams Christmas.”
Guy opened his mouth to respond, but Burton kept talking.
“No, the real story behind this gem is that it was crafted by Faberge himself as a Christmas present for his secret American lover. He’d been watching all of the eggs he made for the royal family and admittedly grew a little jealous that he was using his great gift for those ungrateful Romanovs. He asked Faberge to make him an egg that looked like the sleigh bells he saw tied to all of the sleighs in town so he could always be reminded of the beauty of Christmas. And when his lover found this egg waiting for him under the tree that year…he knew their love would be eternal. Well, he thought he did.”
Guy watched a faraway haze fall over Burton’s eyes, dimming the green glow they possessed the longer he watched the egg dangle before him. There were a million things he wanted to ask him further, but he willed himself to hold his tongue.
Burton spoke like this often. He’d make the vague remark here and there about the centuries he’d walked the earth and what he did before they met. Guy tried to piece each new clue together like a puzzle, hoping that he’d have the full picture one day. Some parts of the image were clearer than they were a year ago, but there were still too many gaps for it to be called complete. Guy never tried to pry, though. If Burton wanted to tell him the whole story one day, he would.
Burton eventually sobered up and shook his head, tucking the egg back into its box. “But with all royal families, they like to take whatever they see, so this egg eventually became part of their collection along with the others. But after they got sacked, this was one of the few eggs lost in time. To the general art community, they think this particular egg is sitting in a private collection no one can find.”
“And can I assume you put in a favor with the Talamasca to put it in your private collection and seal the records from the public?”
“Right you are.” Burton tapped Guy’s nose, “They do not appreciate that big brain of yours at the Talamasca.” He placed the box back on top of the ornament pile and sighed. “Oh, I can’t wait to see it on the tree. You’re doing a great job with it so far.”
“Thanks. I guess I can add Christmas tree decorating to my resume.”
“Excuse me, Burton.”
Both men looked back at the living room doorway, finding Pretty standing inside of it.
Her boss asked, “Yes, Pretty?”
“Are you able to spare a moment to confirm the menu for Christmas Eve? I have some dishes prepared in the kitchen for your inspection.”
“Pretty, I always have time to admire your cooking even if I can’t enjoy it.”
Burton pushed himself down to the floor so he could walk once more. He moved towards her and waved over his shoulder.
“I’ll be right back, Guy. Take good care of my ornaments, okay?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.”
“Thank you.”
Once he was alone, Guy looked down at the ornament bin beside him. He smiled at the Faberge egg box and picked it up, pulling off the lid to admire the treasure inside. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought it was just another trinket Burton hoarded like a dragon. But there was history to this ornament. It made him feel like he finally had the family he always wanted; The kind that always put on ornaments with special stories tied to them or had sentimental meaning. It just made him appreciate Burton even more for giving him what he’d always wanted.
Guy picked the ornament up by its string and leaned forward, moving to place it on the empty branch before him. Just as he could feel the pine needles on his fingers, Burton’s voice traveled from the adjacent hallway.
“Pretty, this music is far too low. It’s Christmas! Turn it up!”
Guy heard the speakers’ volume increase in seconds to a deafening sound. The song had just reached its brassy instrumental break, making him jolt at the sudden noise. He registered too late that the ornament string had slipped from his fingers, making his hands fumble once he realized. All he could do was cover his gasp while he watched the egg crash to the floor and shatter.
The speaker volume turned back down to give him room to think, but the only thoughts in his head were ones of pure panic.
“Fuck,” Guy said in a wavering voice, pressing his hand to his forehead.
He rushed down the ladder and felt his breathing grow faster with each step. “Shit, shit, shit, fuck, shit. No, no, no.”
He moved underneath it and knelt before the broken pieces, pressing his hands on the side of his head. All he could do was stare at the offending mess before him, the piece not even resembling an egg anymore. All it was now was silver pieces of metal chipped beyond repair.
“Fuck,” Guy said again, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible.
His fight or flight activated in an instant, and it told him exactly what he needed to do: Bury the evidence. He scooped up every single piece of the egg and shoved them into his pocket, feeling one edge slice across his palm. He silently cried out in pain but quickly squeezed his hand so Burton couldn’t hear.
Unfortunately, he was still a vampire. He could still smell blood.
“You okay in there, Big Guy?” Burton asked, his voice growing louder.
Guy pushed himself to his feet and walked around the ladder. “Uh, y-yeah! Yeah, all good in here.”
He plastered an innocent smile on his face and placed his hands behind his back, squeezing his bleeding one into a fist.
Burton reentered the room with a raised brow. “Then why do I smell an open wound?”
Guy was quick to put up a mental shield before Burton could start digging. The last thing he needed was his crime exposed before he could fix it.
Thinking fast, he said, “A…pinecone. Really sharp. I, uh, didn’t see it in the tree.”
“Oh.” Burton shrugged and cracked a smirk. “Want me to kiss it better?”
“NO!”
Burton pulled back at the sudden outburst, making Guy do the same and bring his voice down.
“No, i-it’s okay, really. I actually just remembered that I…have to pick something up. Yeah, I…I got a gift waiting for me at…the store.” He slowly walked backwards so he could make his way to the front door. “So I’m going to go get it. You, uh, finish the tree without me. I-I’ll be right back.”
Guy turned around and stepped out of the penthouse, shutting the door behind him. He forced himself to exhale before running down the hall, feeling the offending ornament pieces bounce in his pocket.
Now was as good a time as any for a Christmas miracle. And he knew just who could pull one off.
~
Doris Williamson was on high alert. She had been for most of her life. It came with being the Talamasca’s most valuable asset. There were eyes on her anywhere she went, so she had to be ready the moment someone tried to kidnap her, drug her, or both. But a text from Guy usually spelled trouble.
So when she received the notification from him reading, “Can I see you?”, she knew it was serious. Nothing good ever came from that boy, but she couldn’t exactly toss him to the curb. He’d saved her life. He’d given her true freedom. The least she could do was toss him a bone now and then.
Doris knew Guy had reached their old apartment when she heard the frantic pounding on the door. That was enough to make her furrow her brows. Whatever he needed today, it was serious.
She picked herself up from the kitchen table and rushed to the door, throwing it open to see him panting on the other side.
“God, you look awful,” she said as she took his arm.
She pulled him inside then shut the door, watching as he staggered inside. She felt her hand become sticky once she let go, and she looked down to find drops of blood now on it. Her eyes growing wide, Doris looked over to find Guy immediately moving for the first aid kit she kept underneath the sink.
As he brought it over, she asked, “Oh my god, are you bit?”
“No, no. I just-” Guy winced as he started to wrap gauze around his hand, “-Cut it earlier.”
“Oh. Alright.”
Doris felt her heart rate go down once she saw the color return to his face. The bandage was wrapped tight around his hand, and he sat up on his knees to exhale in relief. He stood back up and made his way over to the table, watching as Doris returned to her seat at the head of it.
She asked him, “Did you come all this way to root through my medical supplies?”
“No. No, this is way more serious than that.”
“Alright. Hit me.”
Guy took a deep breath and reached into his pocket, holding the egg pieces in his hands. He dumped them on the table and watched Doris turn her head down to inspect them. After a moment of silence, she finally looked back at him with a blank stare.
“Why did you just give me a bunch of metal pieces?”
“Because they’re broken.”
Doris blinked at him. “I can see that, Guy. So I’m going to ask you again: Why did you just give me a bunch of broken metal pieces?”
“So you can fix it.”
Doris closed her eyes and counted to ten. Keeping herself composed, she said, “Okay, Guy. How about you sit down and explain this to me slowly?”
“Right, okay.”
Guy nodded and watched as Doris pulled out the adjacent chair for him. He pushed himself down and tucked in his chair, bringing himself closer to his friend. He leaned in and kept his voice low on the off chance that Burton might be listening back home.
He tapped his finger onto the table, saying, “This is…was a Faberge egg. But it wasn’t just any normal egg. This was one of the originals.”
Doris picked up one of the pieces and twisted it in front of her face. “Oh, yeah. I recognize the design now. It’s the Nécessaire, right? We gave it to Burton for his collection.” She scoffed, “Your boyfriend has a very niche taste.”
“That’s not how I’d describe us, but whatever. I-It doesn’t matter. He’s not going to think much of anything about me once he sees this.”
Everything clicked for Doris at once. The quiet part was spoken out loud. Her eyes widened as it became clear, and she glanced between the piece and Guy.
“You broke an original Faberge egg.”
“It slipped! Honest!”
“Oh, Guy.” Doris pressed her face into her hands and groaned. “Do you have any idea how long it took the Talamasca to find this? Agents were sent to every art auction in the world for two months straight to try and get this for him! And you broke it!”
“I-I know it’s bad as it is-”
“More than bad! Do you really think they’ll trust you to undergo retrieval missions once this gets out?”
“Doris, it cannot get out!” Guy leaned over and grabbed Doris’s hands, squeezing them tight enough to force her to look at him. “Please Doris, you have to help me fix it. I know breaking a priceless piece of art is one thing, but this is Burton’s favorite ornament. He got it from Faberge himself as-”
“As a gift of their eternal love. Yeah, yeah. I know the story.”
“Good. So you understand that Burton is going to make me Christmas dinner once he finds out. Please. You must know how to fix it. I care about him way too much to lose him over something like this.”
Doris looked into Guy’s eyes across from her, the blue irises rippling in fear. Like most people who knew about them, she thought his relationship with Burton was a little odd. No one knew just how intimate they were with each other, but they never seemed to leave the other’s side when they were together. The gossip in the organization was that Burton hypnotized him to be with him, but Doris knew better. The look in Guy’s eyes told her it was real. Burton was the first honest relationship he’d ever had. She wasn’t going to let him lose that.
Doris slanted her lips and released her hands from Guy, looking down at her lap with a sigh. “There’s a jeweler in Tribeca the Talamasca has close ties with. He specializes in custom pieces tailored to the supernatural community. Non-fatal metals, magical amulets, things like that.” She reached for a piece of scrap paper and quickly started scribbling on it. “If you tell him who you’re from, I’m sure he’ll work a little magic of his own to help you.”
She passed the paper over to Guy and waited for him to take it. He looked down to find an address written on it along with “Ask for Christopher” underneath. He could have cried on the spot.
Guy moaned and reached over to hug Doris, his arms tightly wrapping around her back. “You are going to get the best Christmas present ever this year.”
Doris chuckled. “I better. Especially since you left me to pay for the rent here all by myself.”
Guy let go of her and gathered up the egg pieces to put back in his pocket. “You’re still mad about that?”
“Oh, no, never. If I had a vampire sugar daddy asking me to live with him in his fancy Central Park penthouse, I wouldn’t pass it up either.”
Guy rolled his eyes with a sneer. “Don’t call him that. That’s not what he is.”
“Then what is he?”
“He’s just…Burton.” He shrugged as he moved back to the door, waving as he stepped out. “Thanks again!”
Doris could only shake her head with a smile after he was gone. There was no denying it. Guy was trouble. And yet, she was still glad to call him a friend.
~
Christopher was an older gentleman with white hair and a thin beard to match. However, the stern scowl on his face told Guy that he meant business.
He was always surprised by how easily Talamasca credentials could get him into even the most discreet locations wherever he went. When he reached the jewelry store in Doris’s directions, he almost thought she was punking him. To the outside world, it resembled any other jewelry store in Manhattan. The room glowed under warm yellow lighting, and there were aisles of glass boxes filled with bejeweled items Guy could never dream of affording.
He tried to pass himself off as a random customer, meandering down the line and pretending to look at the rings and necklaces around him. He even hummed the Christmas Muzak playing over the speakers. In his personal opinion, he was getting much better at acting natural on missions.
When he finally reached the front counter, he asked for Christopher and watched the oyster open up to reveal his pearl. The employee led Guy towards the backrooms and opened a vault for him to step inside. There lay a hidden section of the jewelry store, his path lined with glass boxes on each side. Christopher sat at the end of the path in the back, just barely looking up at Guy as he approached him. Once he spread out the egg pieces out before him on the table, their work could officially begin.
Christopher inspected one under his microscopic lens, holding both up to his eye. He occasionally turned one to the side and hummed in thought, causing Guy to rock back and forth on his feet. Finally, he lowered his tools and made eye contact with his customer to let his weathered voice be heard.
“And you said you’re with Talamasca?”
Guy nodded. “Uh, y-yes. That’s right.”
Christopher scoffed. “Well, you’re either fresh meat or lousy at your job. They’d never let a rookie handle an original Faberge egg if they knew you were just going to break it.”
Guy rolled his eyes. “Look, I know I screwed up, alright? I don’t need the reminder.”
“Whoa! Easy there, kid. I’m just busting your balls. No need to start getting huffy.” Christopher pushed back his chair and sighed. “Well, there’s no other way for me to say this. You shattered this egg to shit.”
Guy crossed his arms and shook his head. “Gee, thanks. Is it fixable, though?”
“Oh yeah, I can fix it. It’s just going to take some time. I’ll have to really fill in those cracks, after all.”
Guy finally allowed himself to breathe for the first time that day. He tilted his head back to smile, running his hands down his face.
“Oh, thank god! Thank you. You’re really helping me out.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just ask for my card at the register so you can have my number when you check out. I’ll reach out once it’s ready.”
“Great. So when are you thinking it’ll be done? Later tonight? Tomorrow?”
“Well, I’m not too backed up on orders. If I start now, it’s looking like…the 28th.”
Guy deflated in an instant. The 28th was still weeks away. Their tree would be taken down long before then. If Burton was there and noticed his precious egg missing, Guy might not even make it until then.
As the color drained from his face, he leaned over the table and pressed his hands into the edge. “Th-The 28th? No, no, no, I need this way before then. Like, before Christmas.”
“You and every other freak in this city. Look kid, this isn’t exactly a watch with a missing diamond you’ve given me. If you want me to make this egg look like your butterfingers never broke it at all, it’s going to take some time.”
“But this is a Talamasca job! You mean to tell me you can’t do a rush order for one of their own?”
Christopher sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, humming as he inspected Guy from head to toe. “Oh, yeah. You are one of their guys, aren’t you?” His good humor vanished in an instant, “Then you’ll get it after New Year’s.”
“Oh, come on!”
Guy threw up his arms in dismay. Of course he goes to the one jeweler who was on the Talamasca’s bad side.
He looked back down the aisle of jewelry before him, trying to keep his focus off of attempting to storm out. As he took a deep breath, he looked down at one of the cases and saw something glint up at him under the dim lights. The longer he stared at it, the more a new idea sprang into his mind. If this worked, he would be killing too birds with one stone.
Turning back to Christopher, Guy asked, “What if I was a paying customer?”
The jeweler raised a brow at him. “You are a paying customer.”
“No, no. I mean, what if I purchased one of your…beautiful, extremely well-crafted pieces here alongside paying for the repair?”
Christopher’s face relaxed as he stared at him, as if deep in thought over the offer. Just for kicks, Guy took a little poke into his mind to see if his new mission would be a success. All he could pull out was an immediate thought of, “Kid’s smarter than he looks. I’ll give him that.”
“You’re still getting it on the 28th,” Christopher said out loud.
Guy made a resigned sigh. “Deal. How much for both?”
Christopher wrote a receipt up for him and slid the certificate across the table. Guy looked down and bit his lip, fighting back the urge to wince. All he could hope for now was that the Talamasca wouldn’t be too upset when they saw his latest expenses.
~
If Burton knew that the egg was missing, he didn’t make it known to Guy.
Guy returned to the penthouse that afternoon with a new breath of air in his lungs. Even if his mess hadn’t been entirely fixed, it was at least being taken care of. No one could say that he hadn’t tried.
Burton didn’t so much as look at him suspiciously, and the little poking around in his brain that he did had no mention of the egg inside of it. He actually might have gotten away with it. If he could just hold out until after Christmas when he could get the ornament back and return it like nothing happened, he would call it the most successful mission of his career.
But despite his relief, Guy couldn’t fight off the nagging guilt he felt whenever he saw the Christmas tree in the living room. Burton had managed to finish it without him, and stunning was an understatement. Under the moonlight, it shimmered silver and was mixed with baubles and well-crafted ornaments of animals, people, and winter scenes. The poinsettias tucked in between the branches gave it a slight pop of color, helping it stand out against other trees in the city.
Still, Guy always noticed an empty branch that would have been the perfect place for the egg. He cringed every time he spotted it, but he was quick to look away before the guilt could eat at him. All he could hope for now was a Christmas miracle that Christopher would finish early.
As the days went by and holiday prep was winding down, Guy ventured out into the cold streets while Burton slept through the afternoon. The snowfall had become heavier throughout the month, leading the sidewalks and rooftops to turn white overnight. Guy trudged through the dense packing while gritting his teeth, the cold overwhelming him at once. Even though his feet were protected thanks to the designer boots Burton had gifted him, the rest of his body was still affected by the snowy environment he called home.
He moved to head towards a nearby coffee shop but felt his eyes drift towards a bus stop along the street. To the native New Yorker, the graffiti-covered billboards and faded bus schedules would have been a normal sight. But Guy noticed the tiny blue X made of tape right away. It covered the eye of the model in the billboard, looking like a statement piece rather than a clue. He knew better, though. The X was a sign just for him.
Sighing, he changed direction and headed through Central Park, kicking even denser snow down the winding paths. His eyes darted left and right through the bush area, scanning every happy couple or excited family he passed by. None of them were people he recognized, and no one paid him any mind either. He was safe…for now.
After politely declining a food vendor, Guy spotted his target on a bench underneath a tree. Helen always appeared to resemble a statue whenever he saw her. His boss sat rigidly still on the edge of the bench, almost hidden underneath the snow-covered tree branch she sat beneath. Her thin overcoat folded over her body just so, and she never so much as turned her head to any of the passersby in the park. Guy might have thought she was lost in a trance with the way she stared ahead, her glassy eyes oblivious to the world around her. It was a shame he’d have to break it.
“How long were you going to wait until I found your calling card?”
Helen finally turned to look at him and slowly began to smile. “Long enough. I knew you’d see it eventually.”
Guy moved to sit beside her on the opposite end of the bench. “And you couldn’t have called me or left me a burner text like you did in London? You do remember what year it is, don’t you?”
“Oh, certainly.” She leaned in and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone, “But where’s the fun in that?”
Guy tried his best not to roll his eyes at her. Despite how much her mind games pissed him off, Helen had still helped him out immensely over the past year. She was only one little cog in the Talamasca’s wheel. In a world where he had so little to trust anymore, he could value Helen’s friendship for what it was.
As she sat back in her seat, Helen drummed her gloved fingers in her lap. “I apologize for thrusting this into your hands so close to Christmas, but it appears you have a new mission.”
“Holiday surveillance, huh?”
“More like a holiday retrieval. I need you to steal something.”
Guy blinked in surprise and felt his eyes widen. “St-Steal something? But I thought the Talamasca was all about watching people.”
“Oh, of course we are. Surveillance is our main modus operandi, but we’re not above a few quiet heists now and again. Remember, Guy: We watch, but we get involved when it’s necessary.”
“And this is one of those special rare cases?”
“Indeed. There’s a coven in Greenwich Village who recently intercepted a supply of magical artifacts being brought to the New York Motherhouse. We’re still trying to locate where most of the items have been placed, but one was located to be right inside their hideout.
“The Jewel of Hestia is a powerful item that dates back to the 1700s. It’s said that a witch named Veronica Wellspring enchanted it before she died so that it could be used as a vessel for her powers…and her soul. This coven greatly follows her practices and worships her as an idol, so it’s understandable why they should want to possess it. But Veronica was a very dangerous witch when she was alive. Should the Jewel of Hestia be used unwisely, it could release her soul and bring great destruction upon the city.”
“Not the world?”
“Please, Guy. We could contain it before it stretches that far.”
“But not far enough to stop her from destroying Manhattan.”
Helen shrugged with a sheepish expression, silently saying, “What can you do?”
Guy continued, “So you want me to sneak into a witch’s coven, steal this jewel, and bring it back to the Motherhouse for safekeeping? Is that right?”
“Correct.”
As much of a nuisance Talamasca missions tended to be, Guy had to admit that this one seemed easy enough. If he started now, he could sneak in, grab the jewel, and sneak out before Burton even woke up. Why would he pass it up? Still, there was always a catch with Helen. This time couldn’t be any different.
“Why me?” he asked. “You don’t typically send me out on these types of missions. Why am I so valuable to you this time?”
It was subtle, but a faint glimmer appeared in Helen’s eyes the longer she stared at him. It was almost like she had been waiting for him to ask.
“You’ve proven yourself to be very good at stealing things over the past year. After all, you stole my sister’s time and trust when you dropped her for Burton.”
Guy threw up his arms with a groan. “Oh my god, you’re still mad about that? Doris got over it a while ago!”
“I’m still her sister, Guy. You made me jump through several hoops within the organization to ensure that you two would be protected together only to drop her the moment Burton asked. Do you know how often she complains to me about how expensive her rent is becoming?”
“Fine, fine. I’ll take your fucking mission.” Guy held up his hands in surrender. “Where’s the hideout?”
“There’s a lounge on Bleecker Street, the kind that hosts poetry slams and has pop art on the walls. Head behind the stage, and you’ll find a door leading to a cellar underneath the building. That’s where you’ll find them.”
Guy nodded then picked himself up to head off. He only made it a few steps before remembering a key detail he hadn’t received.
Turning around, he asked, “What does the jewel look like?”
“Ah, yes. Despite its name, it’s silver and has a bit of an oval shape to it. You could almost say it resembles a Faberge egg.”
It was then that Guy created a new Christmas wish for himself: To never hear the words “Faberge egg” again.
~
The Red Pinwheel was exactly the kind of place Guy expected to find in Greenwich Village. The moment he stepped inside the dimly lit lounge, he felt like he was back on campus with his Bohemian peers who looked down on him for pursuing a law degree. Musky smoke filled every inch of the main performance space, making it hard for him to see the Andy Warhol rip-offs hanging on the wall. Guy tried to muffle his coughing as he walked through it, holding up one arm to shield him and waving it all away with the other.
Once his vision was clearer, he noticed that the space was surprisingly packed for a weekday afternoon. Almost every table was filled by at least two or more people, and every single head was turned towards the stage against the back. A girl was reading out of a journal on it while sitting on a stool, and a boy quietly tapped the tips of his drumsticks on a single drum in the shadows behind her.
Guy couldn’t be bothered to try and pay attention to it. He knew the girl had to be saying something about “the quiet weight of the darkness swallowing me whole” or whatever bullshit she had thought of while high. They were all the same to him. But to his surprise, he wanted her to keep going. If it meant no one would notice him sneaking around, he’d welcome any kind of poetry on that stage.
Sure enough, Guy managed to slip through the entire perimeter of the lounge until he reached a door adjacent to the bar area. He pressed his back against it and slipped his hand over the silver knob, silently turning it open. Once he was able to push it open a crack, he peered through it and saw a long descending staircase on the other side. He exhaled in relief. At least Helen was right about something.
Guy fully pushed the door open and slipped inside, keeping his back pressed against the railing. He took everything one step at a time, moving one foot down then the other before standing still to breathe. While he walked, he tried to pick up on the usual signs of trouble; Muffled voices at the bottom, suspicious banging, intruding thoughts from his enemies. Usually, missions gave him one of the three. But this time, he didn’t even have one. The only sound Guy could hear was his own heartbeat thumping in his chest. He didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.
When he reached the bottom, Guy pulled his head around to see what awaited him. His suspicions had surprisingly been right. There was no sign of witches, vampires, or any remote threat waiting for him around the bend. Instead, he found himself standing before a mini witch museum underneath the lounge.
The room was a tiny storage space filled with metal shelves along the walls. Each one held a cardboard box, all of them labeled differently in the same slanted handwriting. The most important aspect were the white pedestals that stood at the height of Guy’s chest. They were shaped like solid rectangles and shone from lights underneath the floor, allowing the treasures perched on top to be displayed for all to see. If he wasn’t on a time crunch, Guy might have taken the time to explore it all and report back to Helen. Thankfully, the most important piece was the first pedestal he found.
He moved closer to the Jewel of Hestia, the tiny egg-shaped treasure sitting on top of a gold pillow. True to Helen’s word, it did resemble a Faberge egg thanks to its silver coloring and intricate, webbed lining around it. It was also much smaller than the ones he was used to, as the Jewel seemed to be the same size as a normal egg.
Guy approached the pedestal and peered over it, waiting for some kind of reaction to be set off. No alarms went off while he stood next to it. He waved his hand over the top, but it wasn’t sliced by a laser. He reached down and picked up the Jewel, quickly tucking it into his pocket. No one emerged from the shadows when he did. He was on the verge of performing the greatest heist in history.
Thrilled by his success, Guy couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. “Too easy.”
“Is it now?”
Guy jumped at the new voice behind him, forcing him to whip around and face its source. The girl from onstage now stood before him, her hands firmly placed on her hips. Without the haze, he was able to see the round-rimmed glasses, smoky eyeshadow, and black lipstick adorning her face. But it was the cat-like glint in her eyes that told him he was face-to-face with a true witch.
Keeping his hand over the Jewel’s pocket, Guy forced himself to stand tall and stare down his opponent. “How long have you been tracking me?”
“Since the moment you walked through the door. It’s not very often that we get a new face from outside the coven. I had to keep an eye on you even while I was practicing my art.” The witch hummed, “It’s a good thing I did.”
“Maybe you should try installing a security system if you’re so worried about intruders.”
The witch made the tiniest smile that was enough to flash a sliver of teeth. “Oh honey, we’re witches. We are the security system. So I suggest you hand back the soul of Our Goddess or face the wrath of the entire Wellspring Coven.”
Guy took a large step forward, steeling himself as hard as she was. “Try me.”
The witch shook her head and clicked her tongue. “You silly boy. You’re clearly behind on your research. Do you know anything about Greek mythology? Don’t you know who Hestia is?”
Guy wouldn’t dare answer her. He knew better than to give away his bluff. Unfortunately, the witch saw right through him.
She curled her fingers underhand and bent them towards her palm, conjuring a tiny but bright fireball.
“The goddess of the hearth.”
Her smile faded the moment she threw it. Guy dropped to his knees as he saw it flying, allowing it to sail above him and collide with the back wall. He looked up just in time to see another coming his way, prompting him to dart to the side.
The witch began to stomp towards him, but his brain moved faster. Feeling the pedestal, he knocked it over just as her feet reached it. She tripped over the sudden barrier and faceplanted into the floor, her newest fireball touching the floor with her.
Guy backed away as he heard her screams pierce the air, watching the floor turn orange while her body writhed face down. He couldn’t let himself stare at her in horror for long. If she already knew he was there, the place was probably crawling with the rest of the coven. He needed to escape now if he had any chance of surviving to Christmas.
Guy didn’t have any control over his actions. He didn’t even register where his feet were taking him or what he was seeing. All his instincts were telling him to do was run, run, run.
He pushed himself back up the stairs, threw the door open, and returned to the main lounge. A vague part of him could sense that every eye in the building was now on him, and he faintly heard their vengeful screeching over the blood pounding in his ear. He dodged every flash of orange he saw out of the corner of his eye, managing to duck behind a chair or under a table before it could hit. He did remember knocking over a table at one point as a barrier, but the result of that move was lost on him.
All he knew was that the world started making sense again when he threw the front door open and felt the cold, nipping air hit him once more. Guy pressed his back against the door and panted, slowly letting his adrenaline calm down. He began to feel the numbness in his fingers and the chill in the city again, reminding him that he was just a man in New York City. Most importantly, he placed his hand over his pocket and felt the Jewel within it. It still felt like it was in one piece.
Guy cracked a relieved smile and laughed. He’d done it. He’d successfully completed his first retrieval mission.
“Yes!” he said, punching the awning above him.
His joy left him the moment he heard something slide along the top. His body tensing up, he willed himself to look up just in time to see the true fate awaiting him.
~
No one at the Motherhouse paid much attention to Guy as he walked stiffly inside. There was the occasional glance as someone walked by, but they turned down the hallway just as quickly to leave him alone. This forced Guy to move towards the main staircase in a frozen scowl.
Every inch of his body was sopping wet from the snow pile that had fallen on him. His hair was flattened, his clothes were dripping wet, and he couldn’t feel his feet the more he moved them. None of it mattered to him. All he cared about was the Jewel of Hestia in his hand, the artifact clasped firmly in his fingertips.
Helen met him at the top of the stairs, throwing out her arms as she moved down to greet him. “Well done, Guy! I knew you had it in you.”
Once they were halfway, she held out her hand so Guy could drop the Jewel in it. She squeezed it firmly then inspected him from head to toe with a raised brow.
“But what on earth happened? The Wellspring Coven deals with pyrokinesis. I was expecting a few scorch marks, not this.”
“Tell that to the snow they neglected to scrap off their roof,” Guy said, his tone flat and unamused.
Helen offered him a sympathetic glance before returning to the Jewel. “All that matters now is that the Jewel of Hestia is safe in our grasp once more. Good work, Guy. I can assure you that there will be no more assignments for the remainder of the year.”
“Thank God.”
Guy was about to turn to leave but felt his gaze fall back on the Jewel. The longer he watched Helen examine it, the better he was able to do the same. If he looked at it in a certain light, it really did resemble a Faberge egg. It didn’t look like just any egg, though. It looked exactly like Burton’s. It helped that there was still no word from Christopher on a status update. Maybe there was still a Christmas miracle or two up his sleeve.
Guy’s idea flashed into his mind as Helen began to turn away, forcing him to hold out his hand.
“Wait!”
He saw her face him and tucked his hands into his now-empty pockets.
“What if I…held onto it for a few days? Like after Christmas.”
Helen’s brow quirked back up. “Guy, I can assure you that the Motherhouse is perfectly secure.”
“I-I know. But maybe if it’s in the hands of an agent, it’ll throw off the coven’s scent should they try and steal it back. Who would think to even look for something like this at the Dakota?”
Guy recognized the narrowed gaze Helen squeezed her face into. It forced him to throw up a mental block just before she could try and slip into his thoughts. He watched her struggle to penetrate it, but she never showed any sign of cracking inside. He couldn’t help but feel pride wash over him at the move. It had taken him ages to finally master that trick. It was a good thing he’d pulled it off just when he needed to.
Once Helen relaxed, she shook her head with a quirked lip. “I don’t know what you’re planning on doing with this, but I expect it to be returned once it’s served its purpose to you.”
Guy let his eyes sparkle as he held out his hand, feeling the Jewel drop into his hand with ease. This time, he was making sure he would never let go.
~
Christmas Day went by in a blur. Guy barely had any time to register that it was happening when he woke up. This was thanks to Burton practically dragging him out of bed at sundown to get ready for the party. A quick splash of water on his face and buttoning his sleek black suit, and he was ready to go.
Truth be told, it didn’t feel much like a Christmas party. The most holiday spirit present was the massive Christmas tree in the center of the Plaza ballroom, its decorations almost blinding under the lights. Other than that, everyone in attendance treated it like a normal vampire get-together.
Guy was tethered to Burton’s arm almost the entire time, standing at his side while listening to whatever small talk his companion was forced to make. By the second hour, he was able to pick up on which conversations were genuinely polite and which were forced. Most of them were the latter. He couldn’t help but be impressed at how well Burton was keeping himself together with each vague barb thrown at him. The centuries of practice had done him well. He’d have to ask him for lessons in the new year.
Nothing could have prepared Guy for the feast, though. Sure enough, a poor kitchen boy too drunk to speak was brought onto the main floor and drained of every drop of blood his body could create. It was almost like a buffet line, as every vampire lined up for their turn with him then wiped their lips clean for the evening. Each one returned to the party shining and rejuvenated with an energy that would keep them going for hours.
Guy thought the whole practice was sick, but he’d never say it out loud. After all, it wasn’t his culture. If this was how vampires celebrated the holidays, so be it.
When they’d both had their fill of social interaction, Guy and Burton returned to the Dakota to spend the rest of the holiday in quiet comfort. The former undressed from his suit and slipped into a more comfortable sweater and jeans combo before moving into the living room. He found Burton sitting on the end of the couch, balancing a wine glass of blood in his hand.
As he moved in closer, his eyes darted over to a particular branch on their tree. The Jewel of Hestia dangled proudly from its branch, blending in with the other ornaments surrounding it. He silently sighed in relief every time he passed by it. The switch had been handled perfectly, and no one had said a word about its sudden appearance. Guy finally felt like he could breathe again.
Once he stood over Burton, he finally registered the gentle melody of John Lennon’s “Happy Xmas (War Is Over)” playing over the speakers.
Cocking his brow, he said, “I thought you were against Christmas music that sounds like a funeral march.”
Burton offered him a wry smile. “This one’s an exception. I play it every year to honor an old friend.”
Guy could only nod in response. He didn’t need an explanation for that one.
Burton kept his eyes on him as he pat the couch, offering him a chance to sit. Guy moved in and placed himself on the opposite end, turning in so he could face his companion.
As Burton did the same, he said, “I’m sorry if the party was a little out of your depth. We’re very vulgar creatures, so our definition of celebrating can be a little…”
“Barbaric?”
“I was going to say uncouth, but I guess your word will do.”
Guy made a dry chuckle. “I accepted a long time ago that this is my life now. Throw your worst at me. I’ll survive.”
For a moment, the only sound in the room was Yoko Ono’s warbled singing. It wasn’t until the heat began to grow between the two that the room became unbearable.
Burton broke the tension first, as he pat his knees and sat up straighter. “Well, I think we waited long enough today. I have a present to give you.”
“Oh.” Guy sat up as well and cracked a smile. “Yeah, I guess it is Christmas, huh?”
“Exactly.”
Burton pulled his hand out from behind his back and revealed a small gray box. Guy gently took it into his hands and stared at its shiny design, studying the curlicues pressed into the surface. The longer he followed their paths, the better he was able to realize where he’d seen them before.
His heart dropped as the image flashed back into his mind, and he swallowed the lump in his throat while pulling off the lid. It rose back up the moment he saw the Nécessaire staring back at him, the ornament perfectly in tact. Every piece had been fastened back together with no sign of cracks within the surface. The gold thread was even tied back around it so it could return to its place on the tree. It was just as Guy remembered it when he first laid eyes on it.
But Christopher hadn’t given him any updates on the repair. Why was he now holding Burton’s greatest treasure in his hands?
Guy looked up and opened his mouth to speak, but Burton beat him to it.
“I know you broke it.”
Guy’s shoulders slumped in an instant. “You do?”
Burton made an affirmative hum. “I didn’t realize it right away, but I’ve known for long enough. You’ve gotten much better at locking in your thoughts, but you still have a terrible poker face.”
The two found themselves laughing at the reveal, a wave of relief washing over Guy. At last, the burden he’d been carrying was free from his shoulders. He hadn’t needed to carry it at all, but the confirmation was more than enough. Still, he knew he’d messed up. The least he could do was make up for it.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
Burton shrugged. “Don’t be. The fact that you went through all of this effort to make me happy…That’s the best present anyone’s given me in years. So thank you. I can appreciate this little trinket a lot more now.”
Burton moved in closer so he could perch himself over the egg. “Plus, when I went to bribe our jeweler friend to make this a rush job, I asked him to make some modifications.”
He picked up the ornament and pulled on its top half, revealing the latch now built into it. He pulled up the lid so the egg could open, allowing Guy to peer inside.
Sitting within was a tiny ring, the golden band standing out against its silver case. Its most striking feature was the large opal sitting on top, its oval shape shining blue and purple. He wasn’t much for jewelry, but he had to admit it was a beautiful piece.
Burton held up his hands in defense, continuing, “I promise it’s not for the left hand. It’s for the right. I thought it was about time you started your own collection.”
“I-It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
Guy carefully pulled the ring out and slipped it on his right hand, finding it to be a perfect fit.
Twisting his hand back and forth, he added, “Why the opal?”
“It’s your birthstone. I thought your first should be one that’s a part of you.”
Guy let his breath slip right out of his lips. Leave it to Burton to know him so well.
As he reached into his own pocket, he said, “Well, I hope you don’t mind if my present copied yours a little bit.”
He revealed a red velvet ring box the size of his palm, and he popped open the lid to reveal the treasure inside. Burton gasped at the golden ring sitting inside, his garnished with a square amethyst lined with diamonds. His hands flew up to his mouth in surprise, and he looked over at Guy with wide eyes.
“It’s for the right hand, not the left. The one finger that still doesn’t have a ring on it.”
“And it’s the one gem I don’t have.”
Burton grabbed it like it was the last cookie in the jar and slipped it on instantly.
Wiggling his fingers, he said, “Oh, it’s perfect! My hand actually looks complete now! Thank you, Guy.”
As he brought his hands into his lap, he looked over at the tree and locked onto the fake ornament hanging from it. “And you also managed to get me the Jewel of Hestia. I don’t know how you managed to snag that from our little agent friends, but I’m very impressed.”
“It’s only on loan. I’ll probably give it back tomorrow.”
“Well, we certainly can’t let it go to waste. It can keep us warm all night if we want it to.”
“And that means we can stay right here.”
Guy offered his hand out to Burton, the gold band of his new ring shining under the lights. Burton took it with his own ringed hand and pushed himself closer to his companion. They never let go while he laid his head on Guy’s shoulder, his body draped on top of the other man.
Squeezing his hand, he quietly said, “Merry Christmas, Guy.”
“Merry Christmas, Burton.”
The two didn’t move from their position for the rest of the night, content to watching the snow slowly fall just outside their window.
For such a loud holiday season, the quiet evening was just what the city needed to finally bring it to a close.