A Christmas Hex
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About this ebook
A Hexworld Short Story
Roland knows he will never find love. Everyone views wolf familiars like himself as dangerous beasts, unable to rein in their savage impulses. He's resigned himself to his fate—or so he thinks, until he meets the dashing Augustus Cao. His witch.
Gus is on the trail of a gang of thieves, and Roland holds an important clue. Even though they can never bond, Roland can't pass up the opportunity to spend a night with his witch.
Can Roland conceal his secret, while helping Gus catch the thieves? Or will the handsome detective be the one to steal his heart?
Short story: 15,475 words
Genre: m/m paranormal historical romance
Jordan L. Hawk
Jordan L. Hawk is a trans author from North Carolina. Childhood tales of mountain ghosts and mysterious creatures gave him a life-long love of things that go bump in the night. When he isn’t writing, he brews his own beer and tries to keep the cats from destroying the house. His best-selling Whyborne & Griffin series (beginning with Widdershins) can be found in print, ebook, and audiobook.
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Reviews for A Christmas Hex
31 ratings1 review
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This was actually pretty cute. I felt very happy, and a bit touched even, at the conclusion.
Book preview
A Christmas Hex - Jordan L. Hawk
Chapter 1
S o,
Gus said as he slipped into a chair beside Roland, do you have any plans for Christmas?
Roland—like most familiars, he’d given up his last name—nearly dropped his spoon into his chop suey. As always, the sight of August Cao set his heart to racing. Gus’s short-cropped black hair shone in the restaurant’s hexlights, and his crisp white shirt set off his light brown skin. Dark eyes regarded Roland, and a small smile teased the corners of Gus’s full lips.
Fur and feathers, he was gorgeous. And the last person in New York Roland ought to be falling for.
No,
said Roland. Because he never did. He’d spent every Christmas alone since he was fifteen, and with good reason.
A reason he found himself in danger of forgetting, when Gus’s ankle rubbed against his beneath the table.
The feel of Gus’s warmth, brushing against him even so casually, sent a rush of blood to Roland’s face—and another to his groin. Gus had seated Roland in a shadowy corner of the restaurant, half-hidden from the other diners by one of the ornamental wooden screens. Had Gus put him here in the hopes of a discreet flirtation?
That’s a shame,
Gus said. The Chinese half of my family will spend it working, but the Irish side would disown me if I didn’t spend the day with them.
His dark-eyed gaze slipped down Roland’s face, taking in the tie Roland had agonized over choosing, the coat from which he’d brushed every trace of animal hair. No one should be alone on Christmas.
Roland’s belly cramped around the egg roll he’d just finished. He’d first come to the restaurant last week, hoping for nothing more than chop suey and a drink. Maybe a bit of inspiration for his next Howl and Roger mystery, so his editor would quit sending him increasingly angry telegrams.
But Roland had noticed Gus the moment he’d set foot inside. The waiter’s slim form deftly wove between packed tables, balancing trays of food or dirty plates. When he turned and gave Roland an appraising look of his own, Roland had realized two things.
First: he desperately wanted to get to know the handsome waiter better.
And second: the man was his witch.
But he could have neither man nor witch, as badly he might wish otherwise. His damnable nature made sure of it. He’d spent ten years hiding the truth. Keeping his secret close, because to do otherwise was to invite disaster. He should have turned around that very moment, left the restaurant, and never returned.
Instead, he’d stayed. And perhaps Gus had felt the connection between them, the instinct that linked familiar and witch, because he’d not hesitated to come over and introduce himself.
Roland had eaten dinner there every night since. They’d talked, whenever Gus was on break. Smiled. Exchanged lingering looks. He’d let himself pretend, for one precious week. Indulged in the illusion that he wasn’t alone, that he might dare have a relationship. That he might even bond with his witch.
And now it had to come to an end.
I disagree,
he said, deliberately putting a bit of coolness into the words. Christmas is a day like any other. People make an absurd fuss over the holiday.
A frown line appeared between Gus’s dark brows. He turned his gaze away from Roland to the rest of the dining room. The frown deepened—then he abruptly stood up. Excuse me,
he said, his tones clipped.
He left, without so much as looking back. Roland’s heart sank, and he swallowed the impulse to call after Gus.
This was for the best, after all. Better to have Gus think his flirtations had been rebuffed, than to continue on. It would have been different, if Roland’s familiar form had been that of a cat, or a dog, or even a bird. And not just with Gus—his entire life would have changed.
He wouldn’t have been alone for the last ten Christmases.
Hey, Johnny!
one of the other diners shouted. White, like most of those on the restaurant’s second floor, the third being reserved for Chinese customers. Where are you going? Where are our drinks?
Roland looked up and saw Gus had hurried past the other customers and was making for the exit. Another waiter dashed in to apologize to the diners, while Gus hurried out the door.
He was just leaving? Why? Surely not because of what Roland had said.
Roland wavered. He might not be able