Page 10 of Christmas Eve with Krampus

“I assure you, liebling, that I have the rest of the solstice to sleep. I only have your company for three days. Now, rest. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. If there is a single night of the year that you won’t have to fear the Toymaker, it’s then.”

I’m not really worried about the Toymaker anymore.

And, weirdly enough, I’m not all that worried about being alone with Ruprecht in his cozy cottage, either…

CHAPTER 4

CHRISTMAS EVE

Ishould have been.

The first thing I notice after my long, dreamless sleep is over is that my hands are stretched over my head. For a second, I’m sure I’m wrong. That I had to have dreamed because this? This is a nightmare.

The second thing I notice? The chair by the fire is empty. Ruprecht was sitting there when I eventually passed out last night, and the only time I woke up with a start after about an hour of sleep, his silhouette reassured me he hadn’t moved at all.

He must have after he was sure I was dead to the world. And I must have been because I slept through whatever the hell he did to me.

My hands are stretched over my head, and when I yank on them to lower them back to my borrowed bed, I realize I’m stuck. It’s like being slapped awake. Panic rushes through me as I pull a little harder, the last of my sleep disappearing as a need to escape takes its place.

Chains rattle. Over the crackles of the burning wood in the fireplace, the metal clinks and I have to jerk my head in order to see exactly what is going on.

Some kind of fur is slipped between my wrists and the shackles on the ends of the length of chains. There’s no denying that I’ve been trussed up, one of the middle loops on the long, long length of gold chain is hooked to the wood-beam and thatched ceiling.

I’m still wearing the heavy dress from the night before. Despite how warm it is in Ruprecht’s cottage, I still had a chill in my bones. That, plus it was pretty obvious to me that stripping down in front of him might be a bad idea.

Not because the gentleman monster would take advantage of me, but because horny Josie might have made a move on him.

Fuck. What were in those ‘vitamin’s Sandra gave me? I know one was birth control—and I’m really beginning to question her foresight there—but did she slip in, like, Spanish fly into them or something? I’ve had a few lovers who I knew at first glance that I’d eventually end up in their bed, but at least they were all human. And Ruprecht… his face might be, and so is his chest, but the horns? The hooves? The patches of fur that cover his shoulders and give him a surprisingly distinguished-looking bead and mustache combo?

He’s not human. Honestly? I don’t even know if he has the sort of equipment beneath his leather pants that would make sex between us possible. And if he did? Based on his height, he might be more than I can handle.

But, last night, I was curious enough to try.

That was last night.

This morning? I’m about to flip the hell out.

He’s chained me up. After lulling me into a false sense of security last night, he has me basically chained in his bed—and he’s nowhere in sight.

Don’t scream. If the beast is nearby, I don’t want him to know I’m awake. I don’t know what the hell he has in mind, but me staying stuck like this isn’t going to work for me. At the very least, I’m walking out of the forest in two days. I don’t know what’ll happen if I miss my window to leave the woods—since the council members were very clear that I need to stay for three days, not two or four, but three—and I don’t want to find out.

Come on, Josie. You can do this. Scooting back, sitting up so that there’s a little slack to the chains, if I just try to slip the loop off the hook up there… come on… twist your wrists, don’t make too much noise… almost… almost…

Damn it. The chain slipped back down, rattling again.

That’s okay. If I gave up after every single failure, I’d never get anything done. Ruprecht still isn’t in sight. I don’t know how long it’ll be before he comes back. I’d rather be gone before he does, but if I can’t slip these chains…

“Fuck,” I hiss under my breath when I’m about an inch away from getting the loop off before it slides down again.

Okay. That’s not working. What about the shackles on my wrists themselves? Is there a way to shimmy the protective fur out, then slide my wrist out of the shackle? It might hurt, but if they’re not too tight, I could do it.

Well, if my shoulders don’t feel like they’re about to be pulled out of their sockets, I could.

I let out a grunt of frustration. Some survivalist, right? I walked straight into the monster’s lair, ignoring the obvious trap until it was too late because those gnomes were creepy as hell and Ruprecht had a pleasant rumble. And, sure, he had a big wooden rod and chains, too, but I overlooked that because he seemed so nice.

Looks like I found the naughty one, huh?

Just as I have that thought—or maybe it was the grunt that caught his attention—the front door eases in. A gust of wind precedes Ruprecht, as do snowflakes blowing in through the entrance before he’s filling the doorway, a few stray flakes clinging to his horns.

---