Flash is there waiting for me when I get back to H-Town. We zoom across the night sky for the aurora borealis. In no time, I’m back at the Pole with Fred running a background check on Lupercalia Lovelace. Fred runs it off the ‘grid.’ The grid is part of something he calls the ‘enter-net,’ though he never enters a net or anything else. So far as I can tell, he just sits at his computer.
“Yo!” Fred calls when he finds the info. “Lupercalia Lovelace. A nymph from the house of Juno. She’s got a few misdemeanors, but nothing serious.
“She’s the owner-operator of the Siren’s Song. It’s a popular watering hole Valentine side. Loveland to be exact.”
Fred swivels his chair away from his computer to face me. “Shouldn’t be too hard to find, J-Dog.”
“Thanks, Fred. You got a secure line I can make calls from?”
“Word. The globe in my bedroom. It’s tricked with the latest anti-spyware. Should be safe enough.”
I go to Fred’s bedroom and put in a call to the castle. A Blond-headed elf with a dentist’s coat appears within the crystal ball.
“Hello?” he says.
“Sherman, it’s Jack.”
“Oh. Hi, Jack.”
“Mom around?”
“She’s sleeping. You want me to wake her?”
“Nah. That’s okay. She needs her rest right now. When she wakes, tell her I called. Tell her I said—”
“Yeah, Jack?”
“Tell her I said I’m getting close.”
“Okay, Jack.”
I hang up and put in a call to Dee’s office.
“Hello?” Her voice comes through but not her image.
“Call me at this number from a pay-palantir in five minutes. Voice only.”
I hang up and wait. Five minutes later, the globe jingles on cue.
“Jack?”
“It’s me, Dee.”
“Are you back? Why the cloak and dagger routine?”
“I found him, Dee. I found our wolf Halloween side. He’s a lowlife named Larry Talbot.”
“You did? Where is he? What did he say?”
“He got away before I could snowstorm him, Dee. But listen, he was waiting on me.”
“Oh no! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Dee. But you see, he knew I was coming. Did you tell anyone I was going Halloween side?”
“No. No one. What are you saying, Jack?”
“I’m saying it was a trap. And he said he was following orders. And it doesn’t look like they were from Samhain.
“Dee, I think this is bigger than either of us suspected. I think this is about more than just some rogue Holiday world trying to raise its status above Christmas.”
“You think there’s someone inside City Hall.”
I nod, though Dee’s not around to see it. “I always said you were one sharp ice skate.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ve got no proof—yet. Finding Talbot will be the best way to finger whoever’s behind all this.”
“Where are you going to look for him?”
“It’s best I don’t say. Even over this line. You never know who could be listening in.
“I’ll call you when I get back. In the meantime, keep an eye out around the office. If you notice anyone acting suspicious, keep tabs on them. Don’t act! Just watch. Don’t put yourself in harm’s way under any circumstances. Okay?”
“But, Jack I—”
“Promise me, Dee. I couldn’t take losing both Pop and you on the same watch. Promise me.”
“I—I promise, Jack.”
“I’ll talk to you, soon.” I hang up and bid Fred goodbye.
Before you can blink, Flash and I are out of the Pole and over HolidayTown flying toward its amusement park. It’s the off season, not to mention late at night, so the park will be closed—not that it matters to me either way.
We reach the park and I leave Flash behind as I jump the gate. The park is deserted—not even a wandering security guard to be seen. I bypass Ferris wheels and roller coasters, heading deeper inside until I reach the Tunnel of Love built over the park’s lake.
I help myself to a boat and steer it inside the tunnel. As I float down the tube, conveniently dark for young lovers, I can’t help but think of all the times Dee and I took our own boat rides here.
Ah, sweet memories.
Finally, I come out the tunnel’s other side and begin to ascend the track that will ultimately drop the boat into splashdown. I crest the ramp’s apex and concentrate on my feelings for Dee.
Thinking about something you cherish—or even love—is necessary to journey to Valentine side. Otherwise, you just finish the ride in the park, ending up soaking wet!
The boat descends the ramp like a torpedo moving at high velocity. The boat hits the water and plummets beneath the surface. The next thing I know, my head is bobbing in the water just off the Loveland shore.
The trip always amuses me. I guess love does feel a lot like you’re drowning in some ways.
I swim to shore. It may be night, but here in Loveland, it’s always springtime.
I am immediately unhappy.
Spring is too close to summer for my liking. I prefer to stay where just above freezing is considered a scorcher, thank you very much!
I make my way inland. There’s no need to dry off. The water freezes right to me, fitting in naturally with my already frosty exterior.
Soon, I hit downtown and, as is the usual here, attractive young godlings hold hands and trade love notes as they walk down either side of the street. Chubby cupids and winged, anthropomorphic hearts flitter above their heads, losing arrows of love left and right.
Sometimes even I think the Pole is a bit much with its candy cane road signs and sugar cookie manhole covers. But it’s got nothing on the sappy, greeting card billboards and chocolate-covered lampposts here in Loveland. The whole town is sickeningly sweet to the last sprite, nymph, and cupid. I can’t half blame the Count for not wanting to set foot here.
I shake my head and venture farther down the street. A flying cupid decides to use me for target practice. Without pausing in stride, I freeze the arrow just as he loses it from his bow. It falls and hits the ground, shattering into a satisfyingly large number of pieces.
The cupid starts to notch another arrow, but I give him the briefest glance with the Eye and it sends him fluttering off in the other direction.
It isn’t long before I reach the Siren’s Song. It’s a wine and dessert bar with a spiraling staircase in the back leading to an upper floor. The place is deserted except for a blonde girl tidyng up, her back turned to me.
“We’re closed,” she calls without looking at me. “Come back later.”
“That’s alright,” I say, striding toward her. “I’m not here for refreshments.”
“Then what,” she says as she turns toward me, “exactly, are you here...well, well! Aren’t you a handsome devil?”
If she’s taken with me, it’s not half as much as I am with her. The Count’s photograph did not even begin to do Luprecalia justice. It’s her standing before me and she is an absolute knockout! Golden-haired and blue-eyed with bronze skin, her beauty is at the opposite end of the spectrum from Dee’s, but it’s every bit as striking.
I try to shake it off and play it cool. It works, more or less.
“Lupercalia Lovelace?”
She closes the distance between us and raises her hand in greeting. I take it in mine. Her skin feels as soft as a baby’s.
“Honey,” she says, ogling me with her eyes, “you may call me whatever you want.”
“I’m Frost.”
I release her hand and take a few steps back, pretending like I’m surveying the room so that she doesn’t realize the gesture for what it really is—a retreat.
“Don’t they have first names where you come from?” she teases.
“Frost,” I say with finality.
“You’re one cool customer, Frost,” she says, still teasing.
“Nice place you have here,” I say.
She closes the gap between us once more, purposely invading my space. Suddenly, it feels like summer in here.
“It pays the bills,” she says. “How about one on the house?”
“Pardon me?”
“A drink. We’re closed, so it would be on me.”
“Eggnog,” I say, relieved to have an excuse to get her away from me, “heavy on the nog.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
She disappears into a back room and I breathe a heavy sigh of relief. A moment later, she comes back holding a tall decanter and two slim, jeweled goblets.
“I’m afraid all I have is dessert wine.”
I nod. She sits down at a table, motioning me for me to join her. I do so, reluctantly. At least the table will be between us.
“So,” she says as she pours us both a glass, “what does bring you to the Siren’s Song?”
“Your boyfriend.” I say matter-of-factly.
“I’m afraid I don’t follow you.” She bats her eyelids invitingly. “I’m perfectly, wonderfully single.”
I take a drink of the wine. It’s warm and melts the frost in my throat.
“Larry Talbot.”
She straightens in her seat at the mention of his name.
“Ah, yes. Larry. What has he done now? Stolen something like he stole my heart?”
“Kidnapping.”
She looks shocked. “You don’t say? I knew he was a bad apple, in the fun kind of way. But I never dreamed he was capable of kidnapping someone!”
She throws up her hands. “Not that I’m surprised. I always did have a weakness for men with an edge.”
She leans in so close I can smell her perfume. It’s like roses and it leaves me spellbound.
“Maybe that’s why I’m finding myself liking you so much.”
I lean in. “Lupercalia?”
She leans in so close our noses almost touch. “Yeah?”
“Where is he?”
“Who?”
“Where’s—?”
I snap straight in my chair as a loud thump sounds from upstairs. One look into her guilty eyes tells me I’ve been snow jobbed!
Lupercalia’s fancy with me is all an act to keep me busy—occupied so Larry can make a run for it. I’d like to give her a piece of my mind, but I don’t have time.
I bolt for the stairs and then take them two at a time. I kick open the first door I come to in time to see Larry’s tail disappearing out a window. I run into the room and step over the lamp his tail must have accidentally knocked to the floor as he was making his escape. Its fall must have been what we heard below.
I duck my head out the window and see Larry leaping gracefully to the street a full three stories below. I curse and then fling myself through the window.
The wind whistles in my ears for a moment and then I’m falling through the goo of a marshmallow-bus stop. The few godlings waiting for a ride look on at me wide-mouthed in surprise. I must look ridiculous, covered in marshmallow goo, but I don’t have time to worry about that. Larry is getting away!
He lopes down the street, frightened nymphs and cupids scattering before him. He’s heading for the shore. I’ve got to catch him before he reaches the water and escapes back to H-Town.
It’s too hot for ice magic, so I snatch a bow and quiver of arrows from one of the cupids Larry unsettled. The cupid regains his senses and starts shouting for the police, but he’s too late. I’m already two blocks away.
I knock an arrow and fire in mid-run. It goes wide. Larry’s almost to the shore. I have to make this one count. I draw another arrow and shoot. It misses Larry by inches. He swerves, realizing he’s under fire.
Larry’s at the beach now. Time has almost run out. I stop in the middle of the road and knock an arrow. I draw back the bow, blocking out the terrain, the honking horns, the nervous yells of the onlookers. I exhale, zeroing in on Larry.
Then I fire.
The arrow whistles away and strikes home in the back of Larry’s leg. His leg goes all rubbery, full of soft, warm emotion. It doesn’t stop him, but slows him down enough that I should be able to catch him easily.
Then, before I realize what’s happening, I feel my arms being yanked behind me so that candied handcuffs can slap over my wrists.
“Hey? What the—?”
“You have the right to remain silent,” one of the police-sprites taking me into custody says over the buzz of his heart-shaped walkie-talkie, “If you choose to give up that right—!”
I look back down the beach and see the tip of Larry’s tail disappear beneath the waves.
“No! No! No!” I plead, “You’re letting him get away!”
“Oh, don’t worry,” one of the other police-sprites says. “We’ve got our man, alright!”
“—Nutcrackers!”