Page 11 of Christmas Eve with Krampus

The rest of his half-naked body is damp, as though the snowflakes immediately melted as soon as they hit his bare skin. No wonder he’s shirtless. If he runs as hot as I’m expecting, he’s probably in his element, half-dressed and out in the winter weather.

This morning, his eyes are still gold; no longer the fierce red they were when he confronted the toothy elves. They warm over when he notices I’m awake, though his mustache droops when he sees I’m glaring daggers at him.

“Is something wrong?” he rumbles softly.

Is he serious?

I jangle the chains. “Why the hell did you chain me up like this? Get these off of me. Let me go!”

Ruprecht glides right over to the bed. “Of course, Josie. You need only ask. But the chains… they were for your safety, ja? I did not want anyone to steal you away while I was gone. It was only for a few moments. I give you my word.”

I want to believe that. I mean, if my arms were chained over my head for longer than a couple of minutes, I’d expect them to be achier than they are as Ruprecht easily unhooks the chain from his ceiling. They don’t feel great, but it’s not as bad as it could be. The fur he tucked between the shackles means that, as soon as he pops those for me, there’s no red marks or anything on my wrists.

I rub them anyway, still glaring at him. “Next time just lock the door, okay? If you had to go out, I get that, but what did you think? That those elves would sneak in while you did?”

His eyes bleed to red. “Something like that,” he agrees. “In Blackmoor, one takes precautions. Especially when it comes to something precious.”

Oh.

Oh.

Okay, then.

Before I can say anything to that, Ruprecht gestures toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry? I have christstollen.”

“Christ-what?”

“Stollen. Christmas bread. It has fruit and nuts, a little icing sugar. Until the solstice ends, it’s my usual breakfast meal. And, of course, I have tea.”

I look at the table, doing a double-take. I’d put money down that, two seconds ago, the tabletop was empty. Like, nothing on it, empty. But without Ruprecht moving away from the side of the bed, suddenly there is a steaming loaf of sweet and spicy-smelling bread sitting on a tray, with a silver teapot and two dainty white mugs perched next to it.

One mug is demon-sized. The other is human-sized. Unless he has a habit of rescuing the damsels in distress who underestimate the beasts of Blackmoor and keeps a mug like that one handy, I just witnessed even more magic.

I haven’t had anything to eat in probably twenty-four hours. And maybe it’s not the brightest idea to eat enchanted food with some kind of a demon, man, monster, but I’ve lived the last seven years with one motto: do what you gotta do.

“Yes,” I admit. “I am.”

“Come, liebling. Eat with me.”

Sit with me. Eat with me. Ruprecht has a tendency to be a little bossy, doesn’t he?

But I’m hungry and I’m thirsty, and if there other… needs I’ll have to take care of, I can’t do that while me and this big ballgown are flat on our backs in his bed.

I wave him off when he offers to help me maneuver my way to a standing position. He hovers, as though prepared to lift me up should I fall, but I manage to get to my feet without him. I kick my discarded heels out of my way and I snatch the skirt, tromping over to the table, and when I notice he’s watching me with a strange expression, a snapped, “What?”, has him clearing his throat before taking a seat.

By the time I’m sitting opposite of him, a plate with a slice of stollen is in front of me. The rest of the loaf is within his reach.

The teapot and the mugs haven’t moved.

I jerk my chin at the smaller mug. “Do I get some tea?”

“Of course. But I warn you, you might not like the effects.”

My hand was already reaching out for the handle the second he said of course. I pause before I hook my fingers through it. “Effects?” I echo.

“It’s an old family recipe. For those who are born of the winter solstice, it is a mint tea. Nothing more. Nothing less. But for those who are mortal…”

I wrinkle my nose. ‘Mortal’ again, huh? “I’m listening.”

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