Page 7 of Christmas Eve with Krampus

I’m not sure why he has that, but it’s probably a better idea not to ask. Same as what he does with those children.

But the orange… I suddenly remember something else I read. While Santa Claus is the face of Christmas who lives on milk and cookies, if you give Krampus a piece of fruit—an apple, or an orange—you can trigger his one weakness. Instead of trying to eat you, he’ll eat the fruit, settling down to have a polite conversation with you as he does so.

Just like he seems to want to do now.

He opens his mouth, showing off a sharp pair of fangs and the way his long, slender tongue is coiled inside of the dark cavern. After dropping a segment of orange onto his tongue, he makes an animalistic slurping sound, then rumbles softly before patting the flat of his massive hand against the ground..

“Sit, mortal,” he says, his heavily accented voice seemingly deeper than before. Deeper, and more than a little attractive... “Join me on the earth.”

I’m sorry, but it’s the way he says ‘mortal’ like that that rubs me wrong; any apprehension I was feeling at the appearance of my rescuer. Not only are his words a clear reminder that he has to be one of the beasts of Blackmoor, but he’s right. I am mortal. I can die, and since that’s the last thing I want to do, I fold the thick skirt of my gown beneath my ass to protect it from the frozen ground, then lower myself to the dirt.

I don’t want to test him, or give him any reason to use those claws or fangs on me. However, if he wants me to sit with him, the least I’m going to do is give him my name.

It’ll make it a lot harder for him to throw me in his sack and beat me with that stick if he knows my name right?

Probably not, but that doesn’t stop me from saying, “My name is Josie.”

His eyes are different as he peers over at me. Instead of the glowing red before, they’re a soft, warm golden color. “I am Ruprecht.”

I blink a few times even as I adjust my ass so that the skirt isn’t completely bunched beneath it.

Okay. Maybe I shouldn’t have just assumed that, because he reminds me of Krampus, and everything he has is Krampus-like, that he is Krampus. Old Christmas stories must have been messing with my head; that, and all of the whispered warnings I’ve heard about the type of monsters who lurk in the dark woods of Blackmoor.

I was expecting werewolves. Vampires. Maybe a troll or an ogre if they were really real. Rabid little elves who try to bumrush me? A horned half-man, half-beast who is going to town on my orange?

At least I found something for him to eat that isn’t me. Though, the way his unblinking gaze has slid over to me as he chews another piece of fruit, I’m not so sure that I’ve been taken off the menu.

“So,” he says conversationally, “I wasn’t expecting to find you in my corner of the forest. Especially this time of year, most of Blackmoor keeps their distance from me. Didn’t you heed my warnings?”

Warnings? What warnings? “It wasn’t on purpose,” I admit. “I’m used to following my gut. My instincts. They told me to walk this way to search for shelter.”

A stray drop of orange juice beads up in the corner of his mouth. He licks it, then ducks his chin so that he’s meeting my eyes. “Is that so? They led you toward me? And after Blackmoor welcomes you?”

If that’s how he wants to see it. “I signed up for three days in the woods.” Does he know that’s a thing the council does? Considering he mentioned Blackmoor welcoming me, I’m guessing yes. “I don’t get to leave until the day after Christmas. I just needed somewhere safe to hide out from the—never mind.”

I stop short, not wanting to offend him.

But Ruprecht doesn’t seem all that offended.

“That’s smart, Josie. The forest is full of monsters. Beasts. Legends, even… but rarely mortal beauties. And with Christmas so close…” Like before, he says something in that other language. It sounds like German but not quite, and I have no idea what he’s saying to me.

“Huh?”

“My apologies. I’m often hibernating through the rest of the year now that I’ve done my part. But something woke me earlier this morn. It takes effort to use the mortal tongue instead of that from my creation. But I was remarking that it’s been a long time since I’ve seen one as you, Josie. It would have been a shame if Nicklaus got his claws on you first.”

I don’t want to ask who Nicklaus is. If he’s anything like the Toymaker who sicced those elves on me, I don’t want to meet him, either.

Does that mean I trust that this Ruprecht guy is a better choice? Not even a little. But so long as he’s segmenting the orange and not threatening me, I’d rather stay by him.

And, maybe, he can help me?—

“Thank you. For before. I appreciate it.”

“Think nothing of it. If there’s one thing you can be sure of, I will always protect what is mine.”

Whoa. That solemn promise he just made should not have sounded as sexy as it just did. And while I know he’s talking about chasing the elves off because they came onto his land, forgive me for my imagination running away with me a little bit.

“You didn’t have to help me, but that was nice of you. And, um, if you can point me in the opposite direction of where they usually stay so I can find a spot to hunker down for the rest of my three days, that would be even nicer.”

---