by Lucy Smoke
He collided into me, throwing me backward, causing me to bite my tongue. I jump out of the fire’s way as the most excruciating ache shuddered across my tongue. Salty blood coated my mouth.
The shadow fell over me.
I stared up and up.
Krampus looked down, and a cry fell from my mouth. His eyes widened, his mouth parting to reveal fangs. And the bastard wore Santa’s hat.
With my legs frozen in place, I stared into the face of death, the bucket falling from my grasp. My breaths grew jagged and harsh, and I shook as fear tensed in my gut.
My brain jumped into escape mode, and I spun to flee, taking a long leap when a clawed hand snatched my arm. Dagger-like nails pierced my flesh so deep, my knees crumbled. I cried out, but no one would hear or help me.
He hauled me around to face him. His other hand gripped my jaw, fingernails digging into my cheeks, breaking skin. Tears burned my eyes, and time seemed to stand still as I pictured myself killed by this monster out here. No one would know how I’d died. And Krampus would kill Britta afterward. Then the men and Santa.
Rage ran through my veins at the thought, so I shoved my fists into his furry chest, solid as stone.
I stepped on a snapping stick and remembered the circle. With the lighter still in my hands, I realized the monster was right in the middle of my trap. I flicked the lighter on and kicked the bastard in the groin. He groaned and his grasp softened.
So, I leaped backward before dropping to my knees. I clicked the lighter on once more, a golden light awakening like a beacon of salvation. I jerked my arm forward and pressed the fire to the schnapps-soaked wood. A blaze roared awake, zapping around Krampus in a heartbeat.
I scrambled backward on my butt, tears blotting my eyes.
He reached out for me but flinched back, hissing when he crossed the threshold that kept him in place.
“Nickie!” he gurgled my name. “You’ll die today!”
I climbed to my feet, shaking so hard, I could barely stand, but I lifted my chin, meeting the beast’s black eyes. “Fuck you!”
With that, I ran to the entrance and grabbed my toy bucket, attempting to look as tough as possible, then rushed inside. I rushed through a cloud of smoke, the choking stench of burning wood clogging my nostrils. I coughed as deep howls reverberated outside. I had no idea how long my trap would hold for, so I had to move fast.
“Britta?” I called out and careened down the tunnel, aiming for the light at the end of the burrow and swinging left into a cavern. It was dark in here, with only a single candle flickering in the corner. I blinked hard, waiting for my eyes to make sense of what I saw.
The pear-like large shapes cleared.
Four hessian bags sat across the back wall, with people inside each one. The fabric was cinched tightly around their necks. Only their heads stuck out, and my knees weakened when I laid eyes on Britta, her pupils red-rimmed. My three men were there too. All of them wearing gags over their mouths.
I collected the plastic glitter pouch and pushed it into my pocket, figuring it might come in handy if we got attacked again. I moved over to my sister to cut her free. Her eyes widened and she nodded her head, her muffled cries urging me to move faster. I untied her gag and she bellowed into a crying fit.
“Nickie!” she cried.
I sawed through the thick cord around her neck, and once I broke through, the sack fell down around her small frame. She kneeled on the ground, her hands and legs were tied. I quickly broke the bonds and dragged her into my arms.
“I’m sorry, Britta,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
She softened against me and cried, her small arms hugging my waist tightly.
“Never leave me again.”
I kissed the top of her head and glanced up to the three men glaring my way, making groaning sounds. “Promise. Now I need to release my friends.”
Britta let me break away, and I hastened to cut the three of them loose.
“You know they’re reindeer shifters,” she said.
“How do you know?” I broke the strap around Jax’s neck, then the rest of his ties, and he removed his gags.
“I saw them shifting when they were pulled in here, and Krampus put a spell on them not to change,” she said as I moved to Leven, then Tatum.
I turned to her. “You’re okay with that?” I wasn’t sure how she’d respond. It was hard enough getting her to sleep most nights, and after this incident, God knew when things would resemble some kind of normality. But I didn’t mind. I had my sister back.
“Britta is super brave,” Leven said, standing up as I cut the last of Tatum’s cords around his wrists.
Jax moved into the hallway, staring toward the entrance to the cave. “Is that a fire I smell?”
I nodded. “A trap, and Krampus is caught in a demon’s circle.”
“You four leave. I’ll find Santa.” Tatum took the lead, and I held Britta close while Leven and Jax stood tall on either side of us like sentinels.
But the moment Tatum backed toward us, panic jolted through me. I shoved Britta behind me, and her whimpers tore at my heart.
The three men joined forces, but a repetitive tapping noise echoed out in the cave, a sound like dozens of tiny feet. When a beaver turned into the cave, hissing, its teeth exposed, a cry bubbled on my throat. The animals were back. Fuck!
I drove Britta to a back corner as an ocean of the furry monsters scampered into the cave, attacking the guys who fended them off, standing like a wall between us and them. I picked up the pail as a beaver wriggled between Leven’s legs and scurried toward us.
Britta screamed, and I whacked the pail across the animal’s head, sending it reeling sideways, the snowballs falling out.
The men kept inching backward, and only then did I notice that Krampus stood in the opening to the cave, still wearing the red hat.
Fuck! I shook all over, terrified of the way his clawed fingers flexed, how he grinned at me and licked his lips.
My spell hadn’t lasted long enough.
The candlelight threw shadows across the room, disfiguring his face, and I quivered, holding Britta so tightly, she tried to pull her hand free.
But I couldn’t let her go. Not now or ever again.
I’d almost lost her once. My baby sister—she was mine to protect.
The goat-like creature strode inside while countless beavers swarmed my men, bringing them to their knees.
I whimpered. “Please, don’t.”
But the monster didn’t stop his march. He snatched my hair and yanked me. I yelled, stumbling after him, losing my grip on Britta. With a wide swing of his other hand, he struck Britta, sending her tumbling to the ground. Her cries burst like a dam. The sounds of the men’s grunts, and the beavers’ barking sounds faded in the roar of my speeding pulse. My scalp burned from where he pulled my hair, but none of that mattered.
He was going to kill all of us.
“Let me go!” I yelled, beating a fist into his arm.
He seized my neck and squeezed, lifting me off my feet. “When I finish with you, I’ll destroy everyone close to you,” he spat in my face.
I kicked and gripped his fingers, trying to pry them free, wheezing for breath. Not caring if he was the lord of shit. I had to escape.
Nothing scared me more than dying right this moment. Not even during the times Dad had beaten me until I’d fallen unconscious. During those days, I’d begged for death to take me. So I’d never wake up again, never face my parents, never be hurt again. But now, I was all Britta had left. And I’d met three men who’d shown me what it would be like to be truly cherished and never alone again. To be protected and loved. I’d painstakingly yearned for that more than anything.
I kept fighting, writhing in the beast’s grasp. His hand tightened more, my airway cut off.
He grinned in my face, mouth parted, teeth stained, and his eyes were the pits of hell. My knife was on the ground, but I had the sleep glitter in my pocket and so I fished it out. With trem
bling hands, I pried it open, yet the corners of my eyes darkened. The room tilted around me. My lungs burned from lack of oxygen, and part of me toyed with just letting go. To stop fighting, to give in to the struggle, like I had been my entire life.
But when Britta’s cries echoed in my ears, a new energy surged through me. With my last inch of strength, I lifted the plastic pouch and hurled the contents into his eyes and snarling mouth.
The bastard stumbled, and I fell from his hold. I coughed, gasping for air. He staggered on the spot, rubbing his eyes.
“What do I do?” I recoiled. The men were bloody and torn up, punching and kicking the monsters. Jax kept Britta protected in a corner as he battled like a wild man, swinging at everything. And my heart went out to him, to all of them. I spotted two snowballs in the corner, still intact, but spiked with the birch twigs. And hopefully still soaked in schnapps. Krampus grew weak from the stuff, so this had to work.
I whacked a critter with my foot on my way to pick up the snowballs. I tossed one right into Krampus’s face. He flinched and tottered backward, hissing like a viper.
The beavers stopped barking. They halted as if in a daze. So I threw the next snowball, striking the goat-headed demon directly between the eyes, the birch twigs leaving a scorching hot poker marks on his skin where it touched him.
He hollered in pain and dropped to his knees, his shoulders sagging. The animals scrambled out of the room, leaving us alone with the monster who’d been hunting me.
Tatum was at my side, his cheeks bleeding, his clothes shredded with bitemarks. He seized Krampus’s arm and bent it behind his back, Leven doing the same with the other, and tied them to his legs with the cords from the hessian sacks. Jax ran from the room in a sudden flash, and I sprinted to Britta and crouched in front of her, hugging her.
She breathed heavily and fast.
“It’s over,” I said, praying that was the case. I couldn’t take anymore.
“I want to go home,” she said.
Tatum approached us and knelt close before handing me the Santa hat. “This belongs to you.” The fabric was soft in my hand, and I remembered the first time I’d found it in the snow. How warm it had kept me, and how moments later I’d been attacked by Krampus. Since then, my life had spun out of control. My sister had been endangered.
“No thanks.” I pushed it back into Tatum’s hand. “I accidentally found it in the woods. Maybe you should become Santa.”
He shook his head, staring at me with sympathy, not anger. “You have no choice. The hat chose you. And to become Santa, you must complete the ritual.” He glanced over his shoulder. “He won’t stop hunting you until you accept your fate.”
Fate. I hated that word, because if it were real, it meant my destiny had been to be beaten and hated by my parents. What sort of fate would allow that to happen to a child?
Jax entered the room alongside an older man with silvery hair and a matching beard that hung halfway down his chest. His belly was as round as a beach ball, and he wore stretched jeans and a zipped-up blue windbreaker. His nose was cherry red, matching his cheeks.
“Santa,” Britta whispered. And yes, that was the epitome of what he ought to look like, not me. I’d be a laughing stock in the Workshop.
“The rest of the elite and guard teams are all tied up and half drugged in several other rooms, but they’re alive,” Jax said, his eyes lighting up at having found his friends.
“That’s fantastic news,” I said, my chest light from the news.
“Nicholas.” Krampus gargled out of the blue, his eyes half-asleep, and he lay on his side on the ground. “Why did you leave me all alone in this wretched world?” His voice danced with sorrow, with a loneliness I understood too well.
“My name is Charlie,” the man said with a British accent, and that threw me off. Maybe he wasn’t the epitome of Santa Claus. “And you’ve been a very naughty boy, haven’t you, Krampus?”
Krampus’s eyes glistened as he stared up at Charlie, and if he weren’t a monster who’d tried to kill me, his plea might have broken my heart.
“We can come to an arrangement,” I said, standing, meeting Krampus’s gaze. “Vow to never harm another living being, and you can come to the Workshop.”
“No!” all the men growled in unison.
“He’s clearly got issues from being excommunicated from his home and losing a brother,” I said.
Krampus suddenly broke out into a maniacal chuckle, which made me shiver. The beast was back. “I’ll skin you alive,” he snarled.
The three men stepped in front of me, Jax approaching the fiend. “Nickie will have the power from now on, and you can’t touch her.”
Charlie strolled toward me, a pleasant smile spreading his mouth, as if this were an everyday occurrence.
“Dear, I do believe you owe me a kiss to close the deal.” He stretched out a hand.
Britta tugged on my jacket. “Why do you have kiss Santa?”
Charlie bent over toward Britta. “Because I’m retiring and going to Hawaii. Your sister will take my place as Santa.”
Britta squealed and bounced on her toes. “Is that true?” And it surprised me as I always thought she didn’t believe in Santa.
Excitement bubbled in my chest, and I was still unable to believe we’d survived. That Britta had comfortably talked to strangers, and instead of becoming scared, she’d grown stronger. I was so proud of her.
I nodded and stared across to my three men, who smiled and nodded, encouraging me to accept my future. Maybe sometimes fate had roundabout ways of working. If it hadn’t been for this incident, I wouldn’t have met my guys and seen that there was still a lot more beauty in the world to discover. That it didn’t have to be just Britta and me anymore, that I could learn to accept others into my life.
I took Charlie’s hand, and he drew me closer. He collected the hat from my grip and placed it onto my head. At once, warmth glided over my body, melting away the cold, from my numb toes to my icicle ears. Charlie wrapped an arm across my waist and drew me against him, his belly hitting me first, and before I could protest, our lips joined.
An explosion of energy burst from our mouths, zigzagging through me so fast, I lost myself. And a great wave of power crashed through me. Luckily, Charlie held me up as my legs gave way. Soon, my tired limbs faded, the earlier hatred I’d felt vanished, and it felt as if the sun itself radiated from inside my chest. Warmth. Joy. Love.
We broke away, and I stood in front of Charlie, feeling like a new woman and slightly awkward that we’d just shared a kiss. “Well, that was different.” I smiled, tucking my hands into my pockets.
“You should have seen when I had to kiss the last Santa that way.” He chuckled jollily, his belly wobbling. His laughter was contagious.
“Are you really Santa now?” Britta asked, staring up at me. “You don’t look any different.”
“Ah, don’t worry, that will come later,” Charlie said and winked, slapping his belly, and I gasped at his implication, but instead I focused on the empty spot where Krampus had been lying earlier. My stomach dropped.
“He’s gone!” I shouted.
Everyone spun and Leven darted down the tunnel.
“There’s nothing he can do,” Charlie explained. “You’ve gained the power, and while you hold it, you are immortal and can’t die.”
My mouth dropped open. “Come again?”
He patted my shoulder. “You have much to learn. Luckily for you, I’m sticking around this Christmas to help you.”
Leven returned, shaking his head. “I checked outside. He’s disappeared.”
And while it scared me to have Krampus on the loose, especially since he knew where I lived and how much my sister meant to me, I somehow had a feeling that he wouldn’t be rushing to return. And I refused to let fear stop me from visiting the distillery. Once I spent some time in the Workshop with Britt and my men, I’d make a decision on where exactly we’d live. But I didn’t want to think about that now, not when
I’d had the craziest past couple of weeks of my life.
“So if you’re Santa,” Britta continued, “does that make me an elf?”
13
5 Days Later
The delicious scent of freshly baked cookies wafted through the air, and I lifted my nose, inhaling deeply. “The Workshop smells like gingerbread,” I said to Britta.
A snowflake kissed my cheek, and I opened my eyes to the bluest North Pole sky. It was as if someone had finally opened the doors to the world, drenching everyone in sunlight.
Britta and I walked along an empty alley hand in hand toward the center of the Workshop. Cute, cottage homes spread out in every direction, their walls carved ornately, and oversized candy canes flanked the front doors. Christmas trees could be seen in most windows, and pines grew between the houses, towering over them. Snow coated everything from the roofs where smoke twisted from the chimneys, to the ground underfoot, crunching with each step.
We’d been summoned by the previous Santa for the official guard selection ceremony, and unease twirled in my gut. I’d told Manuel and Jana that we were moving temporarily to Alaska with a friend, unsure how they would take the whole Santa exists story. So I felt it was better not to tell them the whole story or that we actually were going to North Pole. A secret location hidden by an invisible shield.
Since arriving in the North Pole two days ago, Charlie had insisted that Britta and I spend a couple of nights in a small home to acclimatize and to wait for Charlie to move from Santa’s house. My men had been busy since we’d arrived at the Workshop, so I’d hardly spent time with them, and I helped Britta get settled. She wasted no time making friends with the elves. With most being her height, she took to them at once. Plus, she got invited to a sparkle making class on her first day, and ever since she’d been buzzing all over the place. And as she told me, the world always needed more glitter. Who could argue with that?
And to say I was excited about the future was an understatement. The men consumed my thoughts, and I yearned to spend time with them. All I remembered was their tenderness, protectiveness, and sexiness. The scorching hot time in the sled with Leven, the desire to spend more time in Tatum’s arms, and to let myself be seduced by Jax. So much had happened in such a short time, and now… Well, I was Santa Claus and soon I’d run the Workshop, which was ludicrous. But I was taking things one day at a time.