Drake Sisters 02 - The Twilight Before Christmas

way to keep the children from fearing the incoming fog, a part of life for anyone who lived on the coast.
    It seemed hours to Matt, watching the fog churning, swirling in deeper shades of gray, spinning when there was no breeze to create the effect, yet it was only a few minutes before the fog began a hasty retreat…almost as if it couldn’t take the sound of Kate’s voice. It was a sil y notion. Fog had no ears to listen, but it also shouldn’t have been able to leave footprints in sand or do damage to property. He made his way closer to Kate, knowing she would pay a steep price using her energy to keep such a large crowd under the spel of her voice. As he moved toward her, he felt something in the fog, something tangible brush against his arm.
    Matt whirled toward it, hands going up in a fighter’s defensive position, but there were only coils of vapor surrounding him. He heard a sound, a growling voice muttering a warning. A chil went down his spine. He felt the touch of death on him, bony fingers reaching for him, or someone who belonged to him. The hair on his body stood up in reaction to the half moan, half growl that could have been wind, but there was no wind to generate the sound. Matt knew it was a warning, but the words made no sense.
    Anger was impotent against fog. He couldn’t fight it, couldn’t wrestle it; he couldn’t even shoot it. How could he protect Kate when he couldn’t see or get his hands on the culprit? He stood very stil as the vapor simply rol ed from the building, leaving behind the soft Christmas music and the laughter of the children. He looked around the room, at the sunny faces, at the tree and decorations. Why had the fog come, only to recede without incident?
    He made his way to Kate’s side, slipping his arm around her waist to lend her strength. She sent the children to the tables of food, a smile on her face, shadows in her eyes. Laughter picked up as if the fog had never been; but Matt continued to survey the room, inch by inch, concerned there had to more, something they were al missing.
    Kate leaned into him as they looked out the window. “It’s heading out to sea on its own. Why would it do that? Why would it come here and leave?”
    Matt watched the children eating. Santa Claus was eating. “Could it have poisoned the food some way?” he asked, his heart in his throat at the thought. His parents were seated at a table with Danny, Trudy Garrett, and her young son.
    “I doubt it, Matthew, how could it?”
    “How could he do any of the things he’s been doing?” His hands tightened on her shoulders. “Santa Claus is a symbol of Christmas, right? What does he represent?”

    “You don’t think he came to attack the man playing the part of Santa, then decided against it, do you?” Her anxious gaze fol owed the burly man in the red-and-white suit.
    Matt shook his head. “I feel danger, Katie. When I feel it this strong, it’s here, close by. Tel me what Santa represents.”
    She rubbed her throbbing temples. “Goodwil , I suppose. He represents goodwil and generosity. He gives presents, stuffs stockings, eats the children’s milk and cookies.”
    “He spreads goodwil among the people and is generous, teaching by example to be generous.” Matt tugged on her hand, moved toward the tree where Santa’s pack lay. He peered inside. There were a few netted candy cane stockings holding smal toys, candy, and various smal personal items the town always generously donated for the event. Santa had slipped most of the candy cane net stockings into the children’s stockings hanging from the fake mantel earlier when he’d first arrived, so that each child would have something to take home after the party.
    Matt went to the brightly colored stockings, each with a child’s name stitched in bold letters across the top. Kate’s fingers tightened around his.
    She already knew, just as he did. They peered inside. She drew back, stifling a cry, looking at him with fear. Inside each stocking, the fog had added to Santa’s generous gift. A mass of sand and sea bugs writhed in hideous black bal s in the toes of the stockings. Al were damp with seawater and smel ed faintly of the noxious odor the fog seemed to leave behind. Crushed shel s and spiny sea anemone, kelp and smal crabs were mixed with the wiggling insects.
    Santa Claus joined them, staring at the mess while al around them children ate and laughed and played. “We have to get rid of these. Some of these