Page 88 of What The Hex (The Family Spells)
Kid you not.
It was literally impossible to use a standard untangling spell on Christmas lights. Didn’t work. I mean, it technically did untangle them, but they never worked again after that. True story.
Grace said it had something to do with witches and old legends, and the krampus, from the times when our people would light candles and put them in the trees outside to ward off the witch-eaters. The tradition had followed our people here when they’d migrated from our native world.
Magic can do a lot of things: open portals to the demon realm, make the walls in a house soundproof, cure erectile dysfunction. But there were some problems that were just universal it seemed.
Hex scrunched up his face, undoing the twist ties on the light bundle that I’d given him. Lucky bastard got a new set. They might still be tangled somehow—as I said, it all related back to old curses and other worlds—but it was easier than dealing with one of last year’s strands.
“By the way, if you’re still unsure about what to get me for Christmas, I’ll take a new pair of gray joggers; you can keep the cum-stained ones.” I started at the base of the tree and began to nestle the all-white lights in the branches. “Nothing cheap either. Witch-made, organic cotton, spelled to prevent moisture in the uh … well, just make sure they’re the kind that are spelled to keep your balls from sticking to your legs with sweat.”
“You could also try wearing supportive underwear,” Hex snapped back at me, and I threw my head back with a sharp laugh. I pointed at him with a single finger.
“You’re funny, you know that?” I shook my head at him and smirked, loving the way the expression got him all riled up. We were similar, you know? Same age, same love of ink, cocky, spotty pasts. I was intimidating to Hex in a way the other two men weren’t; I knew that. Sure, I’d be nice to the guy, but I was also going to milk his jealousy for fun. “Dude, don’t look at me like that. It’s not as if you wear underwear either.” I shifted my smirk to a grin as Hex raised a dark brow at me in question. “Remember when you blew your load and let your wings rip outta your back like that monster from the movie Aliens?”
He huffed at me and yanked at the twist tie on the lights, somehow miraculously finding them tangled around his wrists. The guy looked confused as hell, a true fish out of water. Most witches didn’t do the Christmas tree and lights thing; this was probably his first time.
Vampires didn’t participate in this shit either, but that was precisely why I enjoyed it all. My people could, uh, get a bit morose at times. Think dark velvet and leather, coffins and shadows, blood and orgies, sharp teeth and moonlight. Many of the clichés about Bloods were true.
“Don’t question it. Untangle them manually. A spell won’t do the trick.” I continued with my artful arrangement of the lights as Hex tried his best to steer the subject in a less embarrassing direction (for him). It was funny as shit to me. I’d make jizz jokes all day long. Actually, I might make them for months on end.
“How long is Grace going to give me the cold shoulder?” Hex asked, and I softened slightly. We had an easy camaraderie that I liked. We could be friends, I thought, even more so than I was with Caine and Argent. I loved them both, but holy spells, they could be annoying. Hex and I were far more similar; he was someone I would’ve made friends with if we’d just happened across one another.
I think he felt the same way. He better, after ruining my favorite pair of pants.
“Mm,” I began, listening to the squeals of the kids as Argent rolled out some gingerbread dough in the kitchen. Yep, we were those people. Heading into the woods to cut down a fresh tree, making gingerbread people (and wolves with the right cookie cutter), and watching a holiday movie with cider later.
It was happening—even if I had to kick Argent in the nuts to get him to go along with the festivities. Cooking, he enjoyed. Gardening (the tree cutting was sort of like gardening), he managed alright. But holiday films made him gag. He especially hated Elf and choked dramatically during A Christmas Carol (even the good one with George C. Scott). He considered the 2015 movie, Krampus, to be a hilarious comedy wherein everyone got what they deserved in the end.
But put on any form of the Grinch, and that man would break shit.
“That bad, huh?” Hex queried, looking up and out the window toward the quiet street. It didn’t snow much around here, but it did and certainly could. I hoped for a white Christmas, but usually all we got was a rainy one.
