I\u2019ve always believed that the best gifts are experiences, not just because they involve me spending time with the people I love, but because you can\u2019t<\/em> put a bow on them, wrap them up, or do any of the other things which trigger a disaster when I\u2019m around. And speaking of disasters, I was fairly certain what came next would be one.<\/p>\n \u201cMarissa,\u201d said a man\u2019s voice, \u201cwhile I know you find this distasteful, I assure you, you\u2019ve experienced far worse in my service.\u201d The voice belonged to the reflection of a man watching me from the shop window. The passing crowds didn\u2019t obscure his reflection in the least, since he wasn\u2019t actually on the sidewalk. He could best be described as an English butler, with his fine charcoal silk suit and black horn rimmed glasses, but this was no Alfred. It was Grimm, the Fairy Godfather. Nominally my boss, in the same way I was nominally his partner.<\/p>\n I grimaced, working up the courage to take the plunge. \u201cHave not.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI seem to recall my partner being a young woman who faced a fairy godmother in her own realm, and survived. And yet, you quail at this?\u201d<\/p>\n The here and now, that worried me more because the past rarely returned for a second go-round. \u201cWhere\u2019s Ari?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPrincess Arianna is inside, as you should be. Stop stalling.\u201d<\/p>\n I caught my breath, and hefted my purse, which contained my credit cards, cash, and a nine-millimeter pistol. The last served as the final arbiter in many of my disputes with creatures most folks would label fairy tale, and I would label \u201cJust another day at the office.\u201d<\/p>\n With that, I stepped back, kicked the door open, and strode straight into a carnage I hadn\u2019t seen the likes of since an elf snapped and shot up a shoe factory in Malaysia.<\/p>\n Before me, crowds milled in a mash of flesh that made it hard to tell where bodies began and ended. Limbs flailed and voices raised in agony. Mine, not theirs. What was I thinking, coming to the mall on Christmas Eve?<\/p>\n \u201cMarissa!\u201d From across the mall-way, a short woman in a red and green fur coat waved to me. \u201cI bought you something.\u201d That would be Ari, the aforementioned princess, part-time agent at Grimm\u2019s agency, and my full time best friend. She twirled, sending her coat flaring out. \u201cIt\u2019s beautiful, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTell me you did not buy this.\u201d<\/p>\n She kept her light blue eyes open and smiled as she answered, \u201cI did not buy this.\u201d<\/p>\n The easy way she answered raised every suspicious bone in my body, which was pretty much all of them. I\u2019d made paranoia and cynicism the hallmarks of what I hoped would be a statistically long and reasonably fulfilling career. \u201cYou made them give it to you.\u201d<\/p>\n Ari blushed, matching the color the fake fur atrocity she wrapped herself in. \u201cI did not<\/em>. I was guest number one thousand, so I won it!\u201d<\/p>\n Of course she did. Though the title \u201cPrincess\u201d didn\u2019t come with a crown or a throne, it did come with luck I could only describe as ridiculous. The universe itself bent over backwards to make her life easier.<\/p>\n \u201cI won a coat for you, too!\u201d Ari held up the bag by her side, and offered me a coffee cup. \u201cYou have to try this.\u201d She took a sip from hers and waited, watching me.<\/p>\n I never understood why people called it coffee if it had cream or sugar in it. You wouldn\u2019t add cream and sugar to your blood, and I harbored a secret suspicion that the blood in my veins ran Columbian dark. But I took a sip anyway, just for Ari.<\/p>\n And gagged. \u201cWhat in Inferno<\/em> did you just give me?\u201d<\/p>\n Ari smiled. \u201cIt\u2019s a limited-time Holiday Spice latte!\u201d<\/p>\n Mine tasted like holiday spice, all right. The problem was the holiday was Samhain, and the spice had apparently been made of ground beetles and rotten bark. I nodded to her and faked another sip before drizzling that swill into the nearest potted plant, which began to wilt on contact. \u201cCan we just get this done?\u201d<\/p>\n Ari nodded. \u201cGrimm says it\u2019s on the third floor, in a crystal shop.\u201d<\/p>\n We worked our way through the crowds, taking the escalators up and up, until the smell of people mingled with the scent of evergreens. No matter how much cinnamon or pine sap they added, all I ever smelled was the sweat and stink of people pressed together.<\/p>\n \u201cI love it at Christmas.\u201d Ari\u2019s face had that dreamy look that said she was going to launch into another soliloquy about the warmth of the human spirit. Your average person didn\u2019t warm my heart much unless he was on fire, which happened depressingly often in my line of work.<\/p>\n \u201cI love it at three in the morning when there\u2019s no one around.\u201d I spotted the crystal shop and headed for it. The sign read, \u2018A Touch of Sparkle,\u2019 and both doors stood wide open. Just looking at the place made me nervous. The white marble interior made me think of arctic ice, while recessed lighting mixed shadows and glittering rainbows through the store. Snow globes, crystal fountains, and clocks lined the walls and stood in displays just perfect for me to trip and fall into.<\/p>\n I wasn\u2019t clumsy, just unlucky, and life had taught me that both patches of cactus and shops filled with crystal were to be avoided. \u201cYou have the package?\u201d<\/p>\n Ari nodded. She reached into her shopping bag and pulled out a brown paper package. At least, I think it was paper. The closer I looked, the more the wrinkles looked like hair. Which meant I didn\u2019t want to look closely.<\/p>\n With Ari in the lead, we entered the shop and approached the counter. The shopkeeper, an Asian woman whose pitch-black hair hung in a short bob, crossed her arms and alternated between frowning at me and smiling at Ari. I took a business card from my purse. Polished silver, the card could and did work as a mirror. On one side, it read \u201cMarissa Locks, Partner.\u201d On the other, it bore the words \u201cThe Agency.\u201d I pushed it across to her. \u201cI\u2019m here on business.\u201d<\/p>\n Grimm\u2019s face appeared in the business card. He could have chosen any of the thousand other shiny surfaces, but Grimm enjoyed a good dramatic entrance almost as much as saving money or magic. \u201cMs. Feng, I hereby authorize the opening of your gateway for official business. And may I say, it is a pleasure to see you again.\u201d<\/p>\n Judging from the sour expression on Ms. Feng\u2019s face, the feeling might not be entirely mutual. She pushed a simple snow globe across the counter. Inside, a festive country shack rested in the middle of a blizzard. My eye twitched as I watched the snow swirl, so I focused on Ms. Feng. She glanced around the shop, untied her apron and stepped out from behind the counter. \u201cEveryone,\u201d she shouted, \u201cgo home. We\u2019re closed.\u201d With that, she began to shoo out the few remaining customers.<\/p>\n While she argued with a woman by the door, Ari reached deeper in her bag. \u201cI want you to put this on so we can be twins!\u201d<\/p>\n Twins where one of us had brown hair and brown eyes and the other had red hair and blue eyes. Add in the fact that I came stock from the factory with a tan, while Ari could get sunburned by a sunflower, and we weren\u2019t exactly twinny. Ari pulled at the bottom of her bag and yanked out a decrepit cloak. Dark indigo, with lumps and warts sticking out, the lining at the collar could either be matted fur or chewing gum, it was hard to tell.<\/p>\n She held it up and shuddered. \u201cI don\u2019t understand. This wasn\u2019t\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n \u201cA gift?\u201d I raised one eyebrow. \u201cFor me?\u201d Gifts never worked out for me, and Ari knew better, most days. If I was lucky, the cloak only contained garbage. Live scorpions were a definite possibility. I took the cloak anyway, hanging it over my arm, where at least if something venomous bit me, I could cinch a tourniquet quickly. \u201cThanks, but you shouldn\u2019t have. I mean, really, remember this next time.\u201d<\/p>\n Near the front of the store, Ms. Feng\u2019s gentle whisper had risen to a gale force shouting match. Worse yet, Tropical Storm Feng swung around, moving our direction, trailing a woman heading away from the doors.<\/p>\n \u201cI said closed!\u201d shouted Ms. Feng, as she locked the shop.<\/p>\n \u201cNot leaving without a gift,\u201d said the woman.<\/p>\n \u201cPlease?\u201d asked Ari, turning on her princess charm. That innocent question, the way she looked up from puppy dog eyes, you could almost feel the universe leaning over Ari\u2019s shoulder and saying \u201cYeah, please?\u201d<\/p>\n The woman hunched over and narrowed her eyes. \u201cStuff it, Red. I didn\u2019t brave the hordes to leave without a gift for my Muffy. Mommy\u2019s going to get her the perfect paw-surgery present to make her little tail wag.\u201d<\/p>\n I reached into my purse, regretfully moving past the nine millimeter and choosing my wallet. With a flourish, I pulled out a hundred dollar bill. Cash worked better than guns for handling normal problems. \u201cI will pay for you to get a gift from somewhere else.\u201d<\/p>\n Her eyes scrunched up as she looked at the bill. \u201cThat there\u2019s a fraud. You aren\u2019t putting one over one me, girl. I want\u2014that.\u201d Her gaze locked onto the snow globe on the counter. When I say \u2018her eyes lit up,\u2019 for most people, it\u2019s a euphemism. But for one moment, the woman\u2019s eyes shone with an orange light that twinkled in a dozen prisms. \u201cIt\u2019s perfect.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNO!\u201d Ms. Feng shouted, elbowing her way past. \u201cThat boring. You want commemorative Cleveland Browns Super Bowl globe?\u201d<\/p>\n Ms. Feng\u2019s reaction, the way her entire body tensed, told me more than Grimm had. Never once did Grimm claim the delivery was actually to the shop.<\/p>\n Ari put one hand on the snow globe. \u201cIs that the north pole?\u201d<\/p>\n Her question triggered another memory, far less pleasant than this evening. \u201cGrimm!\u201d I picked up the business card and waited. \u201cTell me this isn\u2019t for him<\/em>.\u201d The second year I worked for Grimm, I delivered a bundle on Christmas Eve to a team of postal gnomes, and made the mistake of signing my name on the invoice. The receiver had used it to look up my address, and the consequences continued for years.<\/p>\n Grimm blinked back into the card. \u201cRelax, Marissa. This year, you\u2019ll know exactly–\u201d His gaze shifted to Muffy\u2019s Mommy, and he whispered, \u201cMarissa, Princess, you must protect the gateway.\u201d<\/p>\n That was all the confirmation I needed. Often, objects served as anchors, mostly for spells laid down back when tearing up an area the size of Alaska didn\u2019t attract as much attention. Gateway spells. Unlike a portal, which had to be powered, and tuned to a location, a gateway spell only went one place. You\u2019d think portals would be far more popular, and among magic wielders, they were. But portals had limits on where they could go. Gateways suffered no such limits. You could build a gateway to the heart of a black hole, as long as you possessed a truckload of magic and no sense of self-preservation.<\/p>\n And Gateways usually had guardians.<\/p>\n \u201cAri, keep an eye on\u2014\u201d Before I could finish, Muffy\u2019s Mommy snarled, and lunged for the snow globe. I should have known. Ari was a princess, and therefore immune to most magic. I\u2019d been exposed to so much magic I found it boring when I didn\u2019t find it deadly, and Ms. Feng, well, I\u2019d bet dollars to donuts she was wrapping paper on something much larger and uglier.<\/p>\n But our fellow shopper had a different reason for her sudden interest. I\u2019d seen possessions, performed exorcisms, and though I couldn\u2019t name the creature with orange eyes, I had no doubt. Something had hitched a ride to the mall on board a woman with a love of small dogs.<\/p>\n I leapt for the snow globe, wrapping my hands around it and throwing a vicious elbow. Ari\u2019s shouting rose to the level where I figured she\u2019d break out in bolts of lightning, like she always did when she was agitated.<\/p>\n \u201cGrat di to-vung<\/em>,\u201d shouted a voice which did not fit inside a frumpy middle aged shopper. Since it was neither English nor French, I couldn\u2019t tell you what it meant, but I bet it wasn\u2019t \u201cHave a nice day.\u201d Magic welled up inside the woman, and vomited out as a torrent of pure power.<\/p>\n But not at me. No, she power-puked over my shoulder, catching Ms. Feng right in the chest. Our dour Asian gatekeeper flew backwards, destroying a pile of crystal clocks.<\/p>\n The floor beneath me began to shake, and outside, the lights flickered and then exploded. Which meant the cavalry was on their way. Two spell creatures, called Harathakin.<\/em> One was blessing, the other a curse, but neither one had ever seemed to understand the meaning of the their names. Their existence was tied to mine, so at times, they could be overprotective.<\/p>\n Ari dashed in to seize the shopper\u2019s leg. \u201cMarissa? Your pets are going crazy\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n A crystal fountain to her left exploded.<\/p>\n \u201cI know,\u201d I said between gritted teeth, as I fought to tear the snow globe away. I wasn\u2019t armed. At least, not in the normal way. So I bent over and bit<\/em>, ignoring the fact that I didn\u2019t know when this woman last washed her hands, and also, that she tasted like old newspaper.<\/p>\n She shrieked and threw her head back, then screamed louder. The woman\u2019s hair stood out from her head as something invisible tore small patches of hair from her head. Those harathakin<\/em> could be handy at times.<\/p>\n Ari swung her shopping bag, probably meaning to hit the woman up side the head. Which, to be fair, she did. She just hit me too, as a bonus. I had one thing going for me: lots of experience on the losing end of fights. Pain was more of an old friend than a surprise visitor, so when Ms. Muffy\u2019s hands slipped away, I curled myself up around the snow globe.<\/p>\n \u201cWalker, you will not survive the night,\u201d shouted Ms. Feng. Her voice took on a chill which caused the crystal in her shop to vibrate in response, echoing her words. \u201cAlways seeking the gates. Using that poor woman to try and reach it.\u201d<\/p>\n Ari helped me up, and I kept the snow globe cradled in my cloak of horrors, which despite being ugly, made good packing material.<\/p>\n Ms. Feng held the shopper by her shoulder. Each of Ms. Feng\u2019s fingers now ended in split claws, which drew blood where they sank in. She hissed with a forked tongue. \u201cI will kick you out of that body, Walker, and when I do, your days in this realm will end.\u201d<\/p>\n The woman\u2019s eyes lit up yellow again, and she roared in a voice like the crackle of dead leaves, \u201cNo.\u201d She twisted forward, a blur of motion that left her hand on the snow globe. \u201cErundi Destos Fugit<\/em>.\u201d Her words weren\u2019t proper Latin, but for most magic, the actual words didn\u2019t matter nearly as much as intent. The snow globe pulsed in answer, beating like a heart. Most people thought of spells as static creations. In my experience, all magic was alive at a subtle level, and it longed<\/em> to do what it was meant for. And what this gateway wanted to do–<\/p>\n \u201cMarissa!\u201d Ari shouted, and swung her hand toward me. But the world chose that moment to suck me down a straw, flying further, faster until shapes lost meaning. And I was gone.<\/p>\n #<\/p>\n That’s it for this week. Tune in next Tuesday, for Chapter 2.<\/em><\/p>\n – JC<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Special Delivery – A Grimm Agency Short Story One I\u2019ve always believed that the best gifts are experiences, not just because they involve me spending…<\/p>\n