Hunted in Holly

Chapter 13

I awoke with warm fur pressing into my cheek, and the remnants of a small camp fire fizzling out in the morning frost. I was dry and warm, while my cheeks still felt a bit raw from the first inklings of frostbite. The previous day’s events sparked through my mind, and I shot upright in my blanket, and quickly surveyed my surroundings.

First and foremost, I couldn’t help but notice, well… the blanket. It was large, thick, and made of the silkiest white fur I’d ever touched. I didn’t know what beasts lived in the North Pole, but whatever creature gave its life to keep me warm last night deserved the gods’ blessings.

Speaking of saving lives…

On one hand, I had clearly been very heavily pampered and cared for overnight. There was only one person who could have built this fire in these woods, especially in the weather conditions we were in.

I would not be thanking him for saving my life though, considering he was the one who nearly killed me in the first place. I should have known he wouldn’t go quietly, but I hadn’t expected him to take me down with him. It seemed almost obvious in hindsight though.

I drew a deep inhale into my lungs, and I held the air as long as possible. Today was the last day. At midnight, it would be Christmas. As it stood, I still hadn’t technically lost.

I dug through my pack for a protein bar to start my day. I knitted my brow when I found the addition of a sandwich among my libations. I unwrapped the food, and I sniffed it a few times, pretending, at least to myself, that I was inspecting it for poison before I dug in. But gods, I was so hungry, I would have happily ingested a ham glazed in cyanide at this point.

I pulled my coat tightly around me, then added some new fuel to the fire. I blew on the hot coals, trying to restart the cozy little flame. I should have been running again, but my muscles were still aching from the cold, and the weather looked absolutely treacherous above this tiny fortress of trees. Plus, the thought of leaving behind this blanket was hard to justify.

He’d find me anyway. He’d already proven he was an expert tracker. I may as well throw him off by staying exactly where he thought I would be. I still had a few more tricks up my sleeve anyway.

Hours passed, and there was still no sign of Nicholas. I was starting to wonder if he wasn’t coming. Perhaps he’d legitimately gotten hypothermia yesterday and was still recovering. If he was anywhere near as tired as I was, I wouldn’t want to leave that warm manor either.

I placed a peppermint stick between my teeth, and I closed my lips around the shaft. I sucked on it as I waited and watched for him to walk into my newest trap.

This one was simple. With the help of my ice magic, and this little bit of extra fuel I’d gotten from breakfast, I had one last leg to stand on.

The blizzard blocked out any sound of his approach, and my visibility was limited between the forest and the unending gusts of freezing powder.

Still, I was certain he’d come.

I just wished he’d hurry up, because it was cold up here.

And yet, for another few hours, I stayed in my hiding spot, secure in the branches of the thickest and largest pine tree in the bunch, and I watched my tiny campfire crackle away.

The sun had started to drop, and the already dark clouds lost what little color they had. I estimated it was somewhere around six-o-clock when I saw the first flicker of a shadow in my camp. I froze in place, and I waited until the foolish Saint stepped fully and clearly into view.

Mischief lifted both corners of my lips. I concentrated every ounce of magic in my body into one final, desperate, and definitive strike.

It would be a Hail Mary among Hail Marys, as it would take only ten—maybe fifteen minutes at most—to fully deplete my energy and render me unconscious. But that was all I would need to secure him and execute him. Then the game would be truly over .

I closed my eyes to remove any distractions, and I visualized the blood in his veins and the slow pulse of his heart. I listened and I focused until that beat was the only thing I could hear, more prominently than even the howling wind.

Locked on, I concentrated everything into freezing his fire laden life force in its tracks, and I held his heart still and unbeating. All I had to do was stop the blood from reaching his brain. Not even the gods themselves could keep their wits about them under that sort of hold.

At least I hoped they couldn’t.

That he couldn’t.

Ten seconds, and he shifted slightly on his feet.

Five more, under one frozen squeeze, the mighty Saint Nicholas rag dolled onto the warm, fur blanket in a limp, defenseless mess.

He never saw it coming.