Ink & Snow (Clair de la Lune #1)

8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

I t took two hours for me to get seriously worried about frostbite. Garnet, who’d not been shy about telling me that his second job was as a pole dancer at Silken Chains , had given me two cups of steaming coffee, but that had barely helped.

On the plus side, the wreaths were selling like pumpkin spice lattes. I’d moved more than half of them to the midday crowd to my surprise.

“You cold?” Garnet asked.

He was on break and had decided to take it right next to me while we shared a third cup of coffee. Simeon meanwhile sold candy cane chip cookies to a group of kids, hot chocolate to the parents.

“How could you tell?” I asked, barely managing to keep my teeth from chattering.

“You need a proper winter jacket,” he said and pointed to where pretty much everyone had pointed me upon seeing my insufficient winter wardrobe. “You should go and ask the triplets to hook you up. They ordered me this spandex thing that you usually only get for gymnastics and did a wicked job customizing it. I’m telling you, my ass has never sparkled so beautifully while I was sliding down a pole.”

“Shh!” Simeon hissed, motioning at a snot-nosed elementary school kid.

Garnet leaned in. “They altered it. Added rhinestones. They have an eye for fit and how your curves work with everything.”

“You don’t normally expect that from hiking clothes.”

I watched the snot-nosed kid hand their cookie off to a parent and run through the snow, waving at another kid who I recognized as Laura, Jenny’s kid, who had so very politely inquired whether she might pet Cherry.

In the easy communication of children, they began playing in the snow, building a snowman or whatever the fuck children built these days.

Garnet was still going on about winter and pole dancing clothes, and to be honest, the thought of wearing something warm seemed more appealing by the minute.

I was about to ask him to watch my wreaths and tell people I was on break when something pricked the back of my neck, a darkly creeping sensation.

I looked right where the snowy paths through the park were now lined with lanterns, light bottled and ready to be released upon first dark. Stalking along those paths came a man with drawn eyebrows, his jaw dangerously set.

“Who’s that?” I asked Garnet, keeping my voice low.

He leaned forward so he could look past me. “Oh, crap. Simeon, shh.”

But Simeon was busy chatting, and someone turned on Christmas music, drowning out Garnet. It bubbled out from speakers hidden all over the park. The effect was comical, almost, a guy reeking of trouble stomping up the path like Krampus, cozy lyrics in the air.

The guy rounded the corner, and before I could follow up with Garnet and get him to tell me who the fuck that was, the dude stopped in his tracks, shouting, “Jenny!”

It wasn’t so much how he said Jenny’s name. It was watching Laura cower and hide behind a half-formed snowman belly, her green mittens coming up to cover her ears.

And Jenny flinched, paled. I saw that even though she was wearing a wide scarf that went up to her chin. I also saw the shock on the older woman’s face whom Jenny had just sold a jar of jam to.

The Krampus in men’s clothing stomped forward, and before I had even come to the conscious decision, I was too.

“S-Soyer!” Garnet said, gloved hands reaching but not catching me.

I lengthened my steps to catch up with the guy. When I got almost within reach, I said, “Excuse me.”

No reaction, though I heard him huff, felt the violent tension in the air surrounding him.

A little louder this time, I repeated, “Excuse me.”

Again, nothing.

With my sweetest voice, I said, “Hey, fuckwit, that stick up your ass clogging your ears or what?”

Which made him stop. Slow as any man who’d not learned more than violence, he turned around to face me.

“What did you just call me, you little faggot?”

Something inside of me settled. Or no, something roused from a nap, stretched, moved its muscles, and appraised the situation.

I smiled at the man, a practiced smile I had worn like a mask for years. “Oh, sweetheart, how could you tell? I don’t think we have had the pleasure. I have standards.”

He turned red in the face and stomped toward me.

Which would have been perfectly fine, except the snot-nosed kid picked that exact moment to throw a snowball at the guy. The kid hit him directly in the face too, and I was honestly a little in awe of that.

So the guy turned to the kid and said, “You little shit. No one ever taught you not to mess with people?”

“You were in the process of complimenting me on my depraved ways. Leave the kid out of it,” I said.

His eyes snapped back to me, which was what I’d wanted.

Jenny jogged over as if she wanted to intervene. She was still scared though, and Laura was still hiding.

And the guy, he was once more focused on me, though it appeared he needed a moment to make sense of my words. Then he smirked.

“You people are just asking for trouble.”

What followed happened very quickly. Ironically, it was Cecil who’d gotten me into kickboxing or at least the MMA version of it that he preferred. He’d liked going to the gym with me because for a long time, he’d beat me in the ring. When that had occurred with less frequency—after I’d pinned him that one time and had moved in to kiss him—he’d enjoyed it a lot less.

Anyway, the guy in front of me was big and heavy, and I’d never been that. I was fast and weaselly. I saw the fist come for my face. Someone screamed. I moved in, easily evading the fist by dashing forward, and shifting into full contact with a short punch of my own that hit just right and made the angry guy fold over.

Before I gave him the slightest chance to grab me, I was already moving back out, and to secure my retreat, I brought my knee up.

It would have been nice to hear cartilage crunch, but that was just the snow. And really, for the optimal effect of that move, I should have been holding the guy’s head, but that might have gotten me into trouble down the line. After all, appearances were important, and as it was, people had seen that he’d been throwing the first punch.

Once I put some distance between us, time seemed to catch up.

Jenny shouted, “Nick! What are you doing?”

Other people were shouting as well, but I wasn’t really focused on them. Nick’s face, his nose bloody, was my focus.

“You’re dead, you little cocksucker,” he hissed.

He was about to lunge at me when I made use of the freshly fallen snow, swiping up with my right foot and sending some of it flying into his face where it mixed with the blood and turned pink.

Honestly, the scene was hilarious or would have been if I hadn’t been very sure he would do worse to me if he got me.

He stumbled back, growling, looking all riled and pissed off, and I thought he was about to spout some more obscenities at me when the Taser hit.

Oh, fa la la la la, was it ever satisfying to see Sheriff Dwayne tase the fucker. He still stumbled forward because he was a big asshole like that, but then, in slow motion, he fell, bloody face hitting the path.

“You okay there, Soyer?” Dwayne asked, digging out a nice pair of cuffs from his belt.

“Oh, fine. Jenny?”

She stood frozen, hands covering her mouth, tears streaming freely. Laura ran to her mom and hugged her middle.

Dwayne moved in to cuff Nick, patting him down. He then looked at me. “Are you pressing charges?”

Unless I was mistaken, the sheriff’s eyes begged me to, and I could guess why. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time this clown had been disruptive, and from how he’d talked, he wasn’t a townie. Or not one of the townies I was now a part of.

I shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

Dwayne grunted, relieved. He picked up the wet sack that was Nick, showing a good amount of muscle hidden behind that beard. Nick groaned. Dwayne mirandized him. He’d probably have to do that again later on when Nick was fully back to functioning.

“I’ll take him with me. You should get checked out.”

I said, “I’m fine,” although that wasn’t entirely true. I’d gotten some snow into my shoe when I’d kicked it up and into Nick’s face. And with this incident, I’d had about as much icy fun as I was willing to endure. “Do you need my statement now or can we do that tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow’s fine,” Dwayne said. “He’s already in violation of his restraining order.”

“Of course he is.” I saw Jenny flinch, not sure why. Or I was sure. She was blaming herself, because that’s how these fuckers worked—beating someone down until they automatically accepted the blame. It made me furious.

I turned. Garnet was still standing there behind my camping table, though he’d dropped his coffee. The little paper cup had rolled onto the snow we’d flattened under our boots.

“Garnet? I’ll be gone for a half hour or so. Can you watch my table?”

He stared open-mouthed, then nodded slowly while Dwayne walked Nick off and away.

“Thanks,” I said, and stomped toward We Hikin’ Love It. It was time to get a townie winter makeover.

We Hikin’ Love It took up the entire corner it sat on, and whatever I’d expected, it wasn’t this fancy place I might have walked into in any bigger city anywhere on the globe.

Despite being well lit, extra spotlights bathed faceless mannequins in warm colors, making them look fancy in their skiing or hiking outfits. In a corner on the right, shoes were ready to be tried on and tested out on an indoor rocky terrain simulation that looked like an artificial garden, Zen style.

In the back on the left, stylishly covered with artificial plants, a staircase led to a second level. In the center, with clothes and gear all around it, there was packaged food that could be hydrated to make a nutritious if not palatable meal. Maybe they outfitted people who were going to the moon as well, who knew.

A sandy-haired guy with warm brown eyes walked toward me, wearing a red fleece shirt and a name tag that read Hazel . Huh.

“Hi, and welcome. You must be Soyer,” he said.

Because of course they were fucking expecting me.

“Yeah. I was told to come see the triplets. Is that you?”

He beamed. “Yup. Well, I’m one third, as it were.”

I eyed his name tag. “Hazel? You pick your sister’s name tag?”

He sighed. “No, and we’re identical. It’s just that my parents managed fine with Harper and Hayden, and then they sort of lost the plot and went for Hazel. You’ll get used to it. I sure did.” He looked me over. “You’ll be needing boots, pants, and a jacket, and if you don’t mind me saying, you’d look hot with one of those new hats we just got in.”

“Are you sure I don’t need new underwear as well?” I asked, really only half joking at this point. I was freezing all over.

Hazel nodded. “We have thermal underwear. Are you going to be doing some hiking? Or jogging, anything like that?”

I shrugged. “I thought I’d just be living here and selling flowers. Seems like enough of a workout. Who’d have thought just living in Clair de la Lune required a new wardrobe.”

He smiled. “Yeah, well, it gets cold here in winter. But we have beautiful hiking paths, and if you take a sleigh tour next Sunday, you’ll agree our little town really is pretty.”

Hazel’s carbon copy approached, coming down the stairs, shoes making small squeaky noises on the floor.

“I thought I heard someone come in,” the second triplet said. Hayden, according to his name tag. I had no idea how anyone told them apart outside the store without their tags.

“Yes, meet Soyer.”

“Right, you adopted the kitten.”

I rolled my eyes. “No. I’m fostering the kitten until Duncan finds her a permanent home.”

“Oh,” Hazel said, sounding sad.

“We have cool cat carriers and leashes upstairs, just in case you want to check those out,” Hayden said, undeterred. He looked me over, much like his brother had done. “But I’m guessing you need boots, pants, and a proper jacket first.”

“I told him that,” Hazel said.

“He’d look hot in one of those hats,” Hayden said.

Hazel nodded. “Told him that too.”

“Right. We should get started.”

The two of them had the air of builders getting ready to tear down the walls of an old house. I wasn’t so sure anymore how wise it had been to come here, but when I heard something from behind me and looked in the general direction of the door, I saw the third triplet, Harper, according to his name tag. He had one of those ski hats in hand, this one with a pom pom too, only white, and there were reindeer circling the hat.

“Maybe these colors?” he said, lifting the hat.

I sighed. “Not quite.”

The triplets took me upstairs where they had created a camping landscape next to a wall of backpacks. And cat carriers. At which I did not look at at all. Behind the tents and camping gear arranged almost like a museum piece, they had changing rooms and a mirror wall.

“It used to be a ballet studio,” Hayden said before sending me into a changing room to get my pants off, luckily without their help.

They made me try on several pairs, and keeping track of the triplets between closing the changing room curtain and stepping in front of the mirrors was like the cup game, just a whole lot more guessing.

“That’s the one,” Harper said when I had on my fifth pair. “Brings out your ass.”

“You’re right, it does,” Hazel said.

“I can see what Garnet meant about his costume,” I told them.

Hayden lifted a finger. “That was custom work. But yes, I think it’s paid for itself in tips.”

I turned in front of the mirror, feeling like an idiot. Mostly because the pants were very comfortable and absolutely nothing like the suit pants I’d usually worn for work before. And yes, I did look good in them, simple black, straight, perfect.

“He loves them,” Hazel said. “I knew it!”

“Of course he loves them.” Hayden snapped his fingers. “Shoes. Soyer, you are sticking with that all-black theme? With your complexion—”

“Yes, black is fine, thank you.”

The three jumped to it, dispersing to fetch several pairs of shoes for me. I tried on one after the other until I found a pair of ankle boots, simple but blessedly warm. They were also water resistant, meaning whatever I did at work, my feet would remain dry.

“What do you think for a jacket?” Hazel said to Hayden in an almost whisper. “I think maybe that coat we have in the back?”

Harper looked at the two of them. “You want to fit him with the weird coat?”

Hazel shrugged. “Do you see his shoulders?” He came over and patted them. I sat on a chair with my new boots, taking a needed break.

Harper frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re not wrong, but…”

“For all we know the coat is cursed,” Hayden said.

Hazel huffed. “I tried it on, and I’m fine.”

“Didn’t you say you smelled almonds all day when you tried it on?” Hayden asked.

“What coat are we talking about?” I asked.

The triplets looked at me as if they had forgotten I was there.

Hazel started, “Once upon a time—”

“The delivery man brought us an unmarked package. It’s a nice package and arrived without any dents whatsoever,” Hayden said.

Harper drew the zipper of his red fleece shirt. “And inside, we found a black coat. Looks custom made, but it has no brand on it anywhere, no labels at all in fact. It’s a really nice coat, all black, came wrapped in silk tissue and folded into a neat thirty-by-fifty rectangle just like our mom did the fitted sheets.”

The three of them nodded in creepy unison. I looked around in case I was being filmed for the townie version of Candid Camera.

“We honestly have no idea what to make of it. And it’s been sitting there in the back of the storage room since October of 2022,” Hayden said.

Hazel looked at me with bright eyes. “It would suit you perfectly. It’s all about the shoulders, you know.”

Harper nodded. “He’s right. The only question is, will you risk it?”

I sighed. “Guys, if you’re trying to drive up the price—”

“No, no,” the three of them said as one.

“We’d give it to you free of charge,” Harper said. “It’ll be good to be rid of it.”

I attempted a regal wave from the wrist. “Bring forth the cursed coat then.”

Which was how I ended up with a very nice knee-length black coat that had an inordinate number of pockets.