by Viola Grace
False Liam smiled, and it was a horrifying smile considering his small body and damaged appearance. “I believe we can assist you. If they are unrepentant, can we substitute a changeling?”
She narrowed her eyes. “What would you do with the original human?”
The other changelings cackled, and false Liam smiled again. “Live out a few fantasies before we send them to their afterlife.”
“Start with this one, and we will see. I am not giving you carte blanche to murder folk.” She paused, “But I am not ruling it out.”
She dropped the bag containing Tony, and she stepped back while they swarmed over it and bore it away.
“I will remain here, but do not kill him.”
False Liam waved and scampered off with the others to have their fun.
Hours later, they dragged the bag back to her. False Liam looked tired but pleased. “He wears the marks on his soul of every strike he has made against anyone more vulnerable than he is. If he raises his hand again, he will feel every strike at the same time.”
“Huh. A shock collar for abusers. Interesting. Did you have fun?”
False Liam chuckled. “We look forward to providing this service to you whenever you wish.”
She inclined her head, checked to make sure that Tony was in the bag, and as he remained unconscious and he still had the marks at the back of his neck that she had made with her newly enlarged hand, she nodded. This was the original.
There was nothing else to do but take him home.
Leda put him in his bed with her sister’s help. Phoebe was up on what had happened to him, and while she was embarrassed for Leda to know how horrible her husband had been to her, she had been taken aback to find that he had begun to hurt Liam. He had one chance to straighten out, and if he blew it, he would be gone.
Leda had spent the previous day compiling a case file for a divorce. Every financial detail had been recorded, including their living on Phoebe’s inheritance from their grandmother. Whatever money Tony was making was never entering the household.
Phoebe had made preliminary contact with the police, asking about how to deal with it if Tony hit her again. She had created a file with the inquiry, and it was a start. There was no shame in being abused, and she had to get away from the idea that she was struck because of something she had done or had not done.
Leda left her the morning of Christmas Eve and listened to the calls in her mind. There were hundreds of voices calling for help, and she was suddenly in a position to do so.
She stepped out of Phoebe’s house, and her new body took over again. A portal appeared, and she was on to her first call of the night. She needed to enact punishment for those who felt they were above it.
Christmas Eve was exhausting, and at the end of it, Leda stood in the snow outside of Phoebe’s home and listened to the laughter from inside. Tony was sitting on the floor with Liam and laughing, purged from the pain that had forced him to lash out or terrified that lashing out would bring more pain. Either way, his leash was working.
“Are you going to stare at them all night?” Krampus was next to her.
She looked down at the top of his head, the curl of his horns was rather pretty. “I don’t belong with them, and I cannot return to my family, not knowing what I know.”
He smiled his, leering grin unsettling. “You can stay with me.”
“There is one bed and no doors out.”
He cackled. “I can add a guest space. Come with me. I know your pain, I know your quest, and I know your unease. Literally, no one knows you like I do.”
She sighed and put her hand in his, shrinking down to her human form. “I would be honoured to be your guest, Krampus.”
He changed back to his fey form as midnight settled in. “Excellent. It has been a long time since I have had a woman in my home.”
She chuckled, and they walked through the portal that he opened. “Aside from the ones you hold onto.”
“Ah, yes. Them. Well, you. You are the only one I have taken into my home.”
She smiled. “Glad to hear it. Keeping strange women with black iron in your home is bound to be dangerous.”
They were in his land of forever spring once again, and she looked around with a smile. She touched the branch of a tree. “These look like they are related to the gardens of the queen.”
“They are. We are in a dimensional adjunct of the royal gardens.”
He opened the door to his small turret, only when he opened it, there was light streaming in and the space had increased by a factor of four. He was truly expecting to have a guest.
“You know, when you first came to us and asked for a boon, I was going to make you kiss my beast visage.”
She shrugged. “I would have done it. I would have kissed your horns and hooves if I had to. It was for Liam. There was nothing I wouldn’t do.”
“Including handing your body over as a weapon of vengeance.”
“And protection. There is a heavy protection urge that goes with that form.”
“You are taller than I am.”
“Yes, I am. I can also judge a man by looking at him.”
She turned to Krampus and smiled at him. He looked nervous.
“What do you see?”
“I see a man who made a choice, but that choice has become a solitary burden, and as long as those who live have fey blood in their veins, you will do what you must to keep them safe.”
He groaned. “You know.”
“That every child taken has a fey ancestor in their genes? Yes. It is as if they are sleepers for the cause.”
“Lovers were taken carelessly in the past. The fertility of humanity was ignored until the humans turned on the feyborn. We had to make them bright and precious in their eyes once again.”
“So, you steal them, and they gain value.”
“Correct.”
“Put a changeling in their place, and the true child glows in comparison and virtue.”
“Correct.”
She chuckled. “I have figured that out, too. I wasn’t in danger as a child, I was a collectible of fey and ancient god lines.”
He walked up to her and cupped her elbows. “I am sorry for the obfuscation.”
“You don’t have to be. I was always going to do this.”
She smiled up at him, and he leaned in. The kiss sparked their magic, and he read her as she read him. Tears tracked down her cheeks, and she pulled away to press her head against his chest. “I am very tired.”
“Understandable. You can take the bed.”
She didn’t fight him. It was Christmas day, and she had hundreds of screams to purge from her mind. She really needed that restoring sleep.
* * * *
After five years, she had only given seven abusers over to the changelings. Their replacements were behaving well and making progress. A few more years and they would die of a slow illness, and the family would come together over that death.
Leda sat in the tavern with Krampus, sipping at her spiced wine and listening to the other mythicals talking about their war stories and the difficulties in which they found themselves in their season. Eros liked to complain the most, but the Easter bunny had it the worst in Leda’s opinion.
Krampus lifted her hand to his lips. “Another round?”
She chuckled. Their transition from workers to lovers had taken two years, but now, they were in a nicely settled situation. “Yes, please.”
He got up, and Eros regaled them with another story about how irritating it was when folk fought love.
She turned in her seat and asked Eros, “Have you ever felt love that pulled you so strongly that you wanted it to slow down so that you could enjoy every moment of it?”
Eros looked at her with his brows furrowed. “How slow?”
She watched Krampus as he approached her table again. “Two years is just about right.”
“That is insane!”
&nbs
p; Krampus sat next to her once again, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. He murmured. “Two years was exactly right.”
Leda chuckled and inhaled the scent of him. “Definitely, and I look forward to the thousands of Christmases to come.”
Leda thought about their children, currently in the possessive arms of their grandparents. Titania and Oberon were remarkably flexible at taking on the twins whether Leda and Krampus were on holiday or on duty. Having that kind of open schedule was nice.
Punishing the wicked was not everyone’s cup of tea, but for the Krampuses, it was now an all-December family tradition. Krampus took in the changelings at the start of the month, and Leda got the sadists into their punishments before Christmas. He had support when he got home, and she had it just in time for the holidays. Merry Christmas to all.
Author’s Note
And so we get the Krampus story for a series I wanted to call Monstrous Holiday.
The idea is to discover each of the holiday avatars and find out why they do/are what they do/are.
Thanks for reading,
Viola Grace
About the Author
Viola Grace (aka Zenina Masters) is a Canadian sci-fi/paranormal romance writer with ambitions to keep writing for the rest of her life. She specializes in short stories because the thrill of discovery, of all those firsts, is what keeps her writing.
An artist who enjoys a story that catches you up, whirls you around, and sets you down with a smile on your face is all she endeavours to be. She prefers to leave the drama to those who are better suited to it, she always goes for the cheap laugh.
In real life, she now is engaged in beekeeping, and her adventures can be found on the YouTube channel, Mystery Bees Apiary. Just look for the cartoon kittens.