Grim Christmas (Daughters of Beasts Book 4) Read online

  GRIM CHRISTMAS

  (DAUGHTERS OF BEASTS, BOOK 4)

  By T. S. JOYCE

  Other Books in this Series

  Novak Grizzly (Book 1)

  Beck Bear (Book 2)

  Ash Bear (Book 3)

  Grim Christmas

  Copyright © 2018 by T. S. Joyce

  Copyright © 2018, T. S. Joyce

  First electronic publication: December 2018

  T. S. Joyce

  www.tsjoyce.com

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s permission.

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

  Published in the United States of America.

  Cover Image: Wander Aguiar

  Cover Model: Jonny James

  Contents

  Other Books in this Series

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

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  Chapter One

  The Reaper was being hunted.

  A twig snapped behind Grim, and he yanked the ax to a halt mid-swing. With narrowed eyes, he glared over his shoulder at the snowy woods, but just like every other time he’d stopped his work to punish whoever was fucking with him, the woods were quiet and still.

  Too quiet.

  Too still.

  “Rhett, if this is you playing some stupid game instead of working, I’m going to murder you.”

  No answer.

  The tree Grim was hacking at with the ax would hold, so he turned all the way around and lifted his chin, scented the air. He gripped the wooden handle until it creaked in complaint. He couldn’t smell anything but snow and pine. His mate, Ash, was in town interviewing for a job, Juno was in town with her, Remi was working on winterizing the beer shed, Kamp was on the next mountain over loading logs, so the closest one to Grim would be the jokester slash country singer of the crew, Rhett.

  When a pair of ravens suddenly flew up from a tree, Grim tensed and watched their escape into the sky.

  There was something red on the ground ahead. It looked so bright against the snow. God, he wished Ash was here. He’d been on edge for days and couldn’t figure out why. The whole Crew swore he was being crazier than normal, but he was actually trying to be the Alpha they deserved. That was impossible to do if Rhett kept messing with him.

  Grim crunched through the snow and came to a stop right in front of a red Santa hat lying crumpled on the ground.

  He hated the holidays. Hated them with a passion ever since his second lion, the Reaper, had come to be. Holidays had never been the same after he lost his mind.

  And now Rhett, that twathole, was shoving it in his face.

  Punish him.

  Grim stooped and picked up the hat and, choking both that and the ax, strode east for Rhett’s jobsite. The Reaper didn’t like being teased, didn’t like being taunted, and there was no stopping the anger roiling in his blood now. Rhett should’ve been working instead of playing pranks on Grim. If Ash were here, she would be the only one who could stop him from what he was about to do.

  But she wasn’t, and so the Reaper was free to be the Reaper—the rip-roaring, vengeful, dark-souled monster everyone knew him to be.

  Rhett’s games ended now.

  Chapter Two

  Ash bit back the burning tears that threatened to paint her cheeks with weakness. She yanked off her fanciest boot, the right one, the one without scuffs all over the toe from where she’d fallen on the curb at her last interview for Barney’s Furniture Mart. The nicest boot she owned. She ripped that little knee-high smexy shoe right off her foot. Or she tried to, but the dang zipper was still done up on the inside of her calf, securing her in an ankle-cage like it had been Super-Glued to her leg. With a little high-pitched screech, she unzipped it—twice on account of the zipper getting stuck on her skinny jeans—and then she finally, finally, anti-climactically, yanked it off. Now she super wanted to cry.

  After setting the pair of “interview boots,” as she called them, to the side in a pile of freezing snow, she pulled on her fur-lined snow boots one by one. She wouldn’t slip on ice in these. They had tread as thick as tires.

  Gah, that was the worst interview she’d ever been on. Embarrassment heated her cheeks, and she shrugged into her jacket to ward off the frigid breeze. She needed some magic, so she reached into her pocket and pulled out a half piece of gum, a tuft of lint, and a penny she’d found heads-up on the snow as she’d walked into the library for this interview. The fountain where she sat on the edge was turned off for the winter, but that didn’t stop her from tossing the penny over her shoulder and making a wish as the dang copper coin bounced off the frozen water behind her.

  I wish I could get a job before Christmas.

  It wouldn’t be as potent as a 10:10 wish, but it was 11:13 a.m. right now, a loooong day ahead of her to make that wish tonight.

  She wasn’t going to be able to get her mate, Grim, what she really wanted to buy him for Christmas. Sure, she had a credit card, but she didn’t feel comfortable charging to it when she had no way to make the payments at the end of the month.

  Ash huffed a frozen breath and frowned at the bustling street in front of the library. Everyone was in town doing their last-minute Christmas shopping. Usually, she liked people-watching, making up nice stories about the passersby, but today, she just wanted to climb in the passenger’s seat of Juno’s car and wallow in her disappointment.

  Gads, it was colder than a beer on ice out here. Her nipples were like little marbles. Grim would approve.

  Ash’s lip pouted out, and she didn’t even try to tuck it back in. She’d done everything right. She’d made sure she was qualified to work in the library, she’d sent in her resume, got two references, dressed nice, and had even dyed her blue hair red to coordinate with Christmas. Yeah, it was still not as subtle as her natural black hair, but it was quieter than bright blue.

  Where in hades was Juno?

  Blowing out a toot noise with her lips, she pulled her phone out and typed, Interview is done, can you pick… But before she finished the text, an engine revved down the street, and here came one of her besties, blaring a hip-hop version of “Jingle Bells” out the open windows of her car.

  Ash watched with her eyes so wide, the cold air threatened to freeze them open. Juno slammed on the brakes and drifted to a stop in front of the library. What the hell had gotten into her?

  “Ash!” Juno said, hanging out the driver-side window. “Ash!”

  Ash looked around. “Why are you yelling? You can see I’m looking right at you, right?”

>   “We got mail!” Juno crowed, holding up a fistful of envelopes. “Lots and lots of mail!”

  Maybe her friend had been drinking. Ash should probably drive.

  Ash stood while gathering up her purse and fancy but pointless interview boots and shuffled across the icy sidewalk to Juno’s car. But when she tried to dump her curvy butt unceremoniously into the passenger’s seat, she couldn’t because it was already taken up with about fifty colorful envelopes that were dripping off the seat and onto the floorboard.

  “What is this?” she asked, picking one up to study the address.

  Rogue Pride Crew

  1010 Wayward Way, Tillamook, Oregon

  The return address simply said Almost Alpha, Gray Backs, Damon’s Mountains

  When she looked back at Juno, who was sitting on the open windowsill and hanging onto the roof of her car, she was grinning at Ash like her face was frozen.

  “Is your mouth okay?” Ash asked, concerned.

  “It’s Christmas cards from the Crews.”

  Ash gasped and ripped one open.

  Have an ornamental holiday season.

  From Willa. And Matt. But mostly Willa because Matt didn’t want to take this picture but I made him so technically it’s from both of us. Drink lots of eggnog.

  Willamena Barns

  The picture was of Willa and Matt hanging upside down from a tree by ropes at their ankles. They were dressed in festive, sparkly-silver onesies. Like living ornaments. Willa was grinning from ear to ear but Matt, who was beside her, had his arms crossed and a grumpy look on his face. His branch bent so far down his head almost touched the ground.

  Ash cracked up and handed it to Juno.

  “Oh, my gosh, Juno! We’re in the Christmas card loop now!” Ash said on a breath.

  “Yeah,” Juno whispered. “We finally have a Crew to join in. You know what that means, don’t you?”

  “Safety, eating together, and trying to get along—”

  “No, no, no, not what a Crew means. I mean, now we have to join in on the fun, right? We have to come up with the best Christmas card picture to send to the Crews of Damon’s Mountains!”

  “Oh. Yes, that seems important.” More important than getting along, she supposed. Which was good because Grim and Rhett and Kamp fought all the time.

  “Get in. We have Christmas shit to buy.”

  “W-what kind of Christmas…stuff?”

  Juno was busy shoving the piles of holiday cards onto her floorboard to clear off the passenger’s seat. “We need three giant candy canes, six twelve packs of Pen15 Juice Beer, sixteen strands of holiday lights, and a baby miniature donkey. I’ve already called Remi. She’s going to figure out the timer on the new camera so we can all be in the picture.

  Ash tried not to scrunch up her face as she sat into the seat, but she had concerns. “Umm, Juno?” she asked over the blaring hip-hop version of “Silent Night.” “I don’t think Grim will take a picture like that. He hates Christmas.”

  “I’ve already got a plan for that part.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. A coupon book of future blow jobs from you.”

  “What?”

  “Bribery, Ash. Take six to twelve for the team so we can get this picture.”

  “Okay.” She still had concerns. “But I do that all the time anyways. It’s not really taking one for the team if I like it.”

  Juno hit the gas and skidded on the ice for a second before the tires caught traction and catapulted them forward. She was wearing the biggest smile Ash had ever witnessed.

  “Are you okay?” she asked her friend.

  “I just love Christmas now! Everything is so different. Before, I was always rushing in to try and see you and Remi and my family in Damon’s mountains for a few days in December and then rushing right back out again. Not anymore! Now we have a real-life Crew, Ash! A real one that won’t disappear, and we get to build up holiday traditions like I used to do in the Ashe Crew, how you used to do in the Boarlanders, and Remi used to do in the Gray Backs. This is our holiday moment!”

  Now Ash couldn’t help but get a little bit excited about the picture. Anything that would distract her from how bad she’d done in that interview. So okay…candy canes and beer and baby donkeys. She was on board.

  No matter if she got a job right away or not, she was with the man she loved and she lived in the same trailer park in the same Crew as her best friends.

  This was going to be the best Christmas ever.

  Chapter Three

  The trailer park was too quiet.

  Ash scanned the clearing, listening. There was no throaty rumble of the logging equipment up the mountain, no scent of the exhaust from the processor, no country music blaring from Rhett’s jobsite. The birds who were stubborn enough to try to wait out winter in these mountains were even silent.

  “Something’s off,” Juno said softly from where she stood next to her car with an armload of letters.

  The chills up Ash’s spine agreed with Juno’s observation. “Is it Vyr?” Ash whispered.

  “No. We would smell his smoke, and it would be raining ashes.”

  The clouds above them were dark, but snow wasn’t even falling right now to have them guess at ashes.

  These were the Red Dragon’s Mountains, and Grim had told her Vyr came back from time to time to scorch the earth and eat the ashes around the border of his territory, but this deafening silence wasn’t the dragon’s doing. He wasn’t quiet. They would’ve seen fire by now.

  “I’m going to check if Remi is in the brewery.” Okay, it wasn’t really a brewery that the boys had behind the trailers. More like a shed, but the best damn beer brewed on this side of the country was made right there. Rhett had named it Pen15 Juice, a fact that always made Ash laugh when she thought about it, but not right now. Not when her arm hairs were standing straight up under her jacket and she felt lightning was about to strike.

  Inside of her, the bear squirmed in discomfort.

  “Remi?” Juno called as they made their way around the trailers toward the shed.

  “Are you being a beer wench?” Ash asked, her voice echoing through the silent mountains.

  “Ash! Juno!” Remi screamed from the woods. “Help!”

  “Oh, my God,” Juno murmured, right before she threw the letters up in the air and Changed into her massive grizzly bear.

  As the holiday cards rained down like snow on Ash, she gave her own bear her body. Remi was in trouble!

  Adrenaline dumping into her bloodstream, Ash landed on all four paws and dug into the snowy earth with her long, curved claws as she bolted after Juno. All she could see from behind Juno was flying snow and bear-butt.

  “Ash!” Remi screamed again.

  Shoot, shoot, shoot! Maybe the Tarian Pride was here to finish Grim off! Or maybe the council of lion shifters was rebuilding and trying to recruit him! The woods were sailing by now, and it was all she could do to keep up with Juno. Remi’s pleading cries for help were rattling around in her head right along with her theories on what the heck could be wrong.

  Maybe she’d fallen and broken an ankle, or perhaps one of the boys hurt themselves on one of the dangerous logging machines! Or an avalanche! Or, or, or—

  Juno skidded to a stop in the snow so fast Ash ran right into her and they tumbled end over end until they landed at Kamp’s feet. Remi’s mate was leaned up against a giant pine tree, arms crossed, twig hanging loosely from his lips, glaring at two brawling lions and one pissed-off she-grizzly trying to stop the fight.

  Grim, her scarred-up, fearsome, hellraiser of a mate looked to be successfully murdering Rhett right now. There on the ground was the Christmas hat Ash had given Grim, and the three-way fight between Remi-the-griz and the two lions was so shockingly violent Ash stood up slowly with her big bear mouth hanging open.

  What the fuck? she tried to say out loud, but it came out as grrrrrr. Then she snuffled at the end. It sounded like a bear-sneeze. Very un-intimidating.


  This was fight number four, and it was only Tuesday, the second day of the week. She knew because she was very good at counting and two was a very easy number to count to.

  The Reaper was on a fighting spree.

  If she wasn’t fourteen percent worried about Grim’s teeth on Rhett’s throat, she would’ve taken a moment to admire his lithe agility and ability to murder, but as it stood, Rhett was in trouble.

  Juno apparently figured that out at the same time Ash did, and they both bolted for the fight.

  Kamp still looked uninterested in being a hero, so okay, it was lady-beast time. Girl power, lady prowess, woman speed, and— Oh, God, Grim was scary when he slapped a claw out like that. He probably wouldn’t hurt her, though, being his mate and all, so she spun away from the claws of destruction and then barreled right into him with her round, furry rump. He fell hard

  On his back, Grim sank his front paws into her neck and shoulders before he even looked at her, and as she stood over him, staring into his empty yellow eyes, she regretted, with such clarity, exactly five things she’d done today. One, she’d smeared moisturizer on her toothbrush instead of toothpaste. Two, she brushed her teeth for a good four seconds before she realized it was coconut-flavored and slimy, not minty and crisp. Three, her socks didn’t match because she’d forgotten to put her laundry in the dryer last night, and one of them was an ankle sock that kept slipping down to the arch of her foot. That was the big reason she’d been distracted in the interview. Four, she’d agreed to help find a baby donkey, but it wasn’t baby donkey season right now and she had concerns about finding baby livestock in the dead of winter and would probably let Juno down. And five, her biggest regret, attacking the danged Reaper, thinking he wouldn’t hurt her. His claws were sharp!

  She’d already had a weird day and he was making it worse.

  Kisses not claws—that’s what mates deserved.

  So…