A Very Levet Christmas (Guardians of Eternity)

“Do you need help?” Levet murmured, his fingers itching to touch the lacy beauty of her wings.

“I should think that was obvious.”

Levet grimaced at his silly question, suspecting that delectable scent of bread was somehow clouding his mind.

Of course the female needed his help. She was stuck, was she not?

“I could try a spell—”

“No,” she sharply interrupted. “The portal will open on its own in an hour.”

“Oui, but I could open it much faster.”

“Please . . . don’t.”

Levet sniffed. Did she doubt his powers?

Well, no matter how beautiful she might be he would not stay to be insulted.

He’d endured enough of that from Yannah, merci beaucoup.

“Bon.” He turned away. “I am quite busy, as are most demons who are charged with protecting the world from evil. If you prefer to wait in the cold, then so be it. That is hokey-pokey with me.”

“It’s okeydokey not . . . Wait, don’t leave me.”

“Ah.” Levet turned back, his hands lifted as he prepared to dazzle her with his skill. “Now you want me to perform a spell.”

“No. There’s no magic that can open the portal,” she hastily informed him. “But someone must perform my duties.”

Levet stiffened. There was a faux innocence in her tone that set off his spicy senses. Or was it Spidey-sense?

He narrowed his gaze. “Duties?”

She blinked, a dimple abruptly appearing beside her mouth. “I’m a Christmas angel.”

“Oui, so you said.”

She waved a hand toward the nearby pines covered in snow. “And it is Christmas.”

Hmm. Levet tried to recall what he’d heard about Christmas angels. He knew they didn’t slide down chimneys or ride reindeer, but it seemed that they were rumored to do something Christmassy.

“Do you spread festive joy?” he demanded.

Her lips twitched, as if she were amused by her inner thoughts. “Something like that.” She leaned forward, the jade eyes seeming to pierce to his very soul. “Now you must do it.”

“Moi?” Levet shook his head, taking a step back. Hadn’t he just been plagued by the worrisome fear he was not quite so splendidly magnificent as he’d believed? That despite his great deeds he had been left on his own for a reason? How could he possibly be responsible for ensuring the Christmas spirit for someone else? “I know nothing of being an angel.”

“It’s quite simple.” Moving with grace despite her leg being trapped in a portal, the angel reached behind her back to produce a small fairy wand. “Here.”

With startling speed she had the small, sparkly stick with a glowing end shoved into Levet’s hand.

“A wand?” A renegade flare of excitement raced through Levet. He’d never actually held an honest-to-God, genuine wand. “Is it magical?”

“Of course it’s magical.”

Levet gave it a tentative wave, his eyes widening as a brilliant sprinkle of lights shot off the end.

Why didn’t gargoyles have magic wands?

They were the boom. No wait . . . the bomb.

Levet gave the wand another swoosh. “What do I do with it?”

Again, the angel gave him an overly innocent smile. “Just tap a lucky demon three times with it.”

Levet studied the delicate wand. “That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“What happens?”

“They are . . .” There was a brief pause. “Encouraged to make a change in their lives. It’s quite easy.”

Levet’s glance went to Sera’s beautiful face. Hmm. He did not need to be a psychic to know that magic was never so simple.

Especially when it tampered with the minds of demons.

“I don’t think I am a suitable replacement.” He reluctantly held the wand toward Sera. “You must find someone else.”

“I see.” The angel heaved a deep, sorrowful sigh. “Ah well. A pity about the babies.”

Levet froze in sudden alarm. “What babies?”

Sera blinked, as if astonished that Levet didn’t know what she was talking about. “Harley’s babies, of course.”

There was a tiny voice in the back of Levet’s mind that warned he was being played. Thankfully, he’d long ago learned to ignore that particular voice.

“They are in danger?” he demanded.

“Oh yes.” Sera gave a somber nod of her head. “Great danger.”

“From whom?”

“A pure-blood Were named Damon who intends to challenge Salvatore for the right to be king.”

Levet’s wings twitched with a flare of panic.

He might wish the current King of Weres a severe case of the mange, but he was horrified by the thought that there might be a battle that would endanger the helpless pups.

It was always the innocents who suffered.

“When?”

“Now.”

Levet unconsciously gripped the wand, the need to do something to protect the helpless children thundering through him.

“We must warn Harley.”