Page 63 of Prize for the Alien Grumpus

Only one way up. My claws dig into brick and mortar as I scale the building's face. Not fast enough. The gap widens with each passing second.

"To hell with it."

I launch myself from the roof's edge, arms outstretched. The ship looms just out of reach. My fingers brush metal, then slip away.

Gravity takes hold. Wind whips past my ears as I plummet toward the street below. The ground rushes up to meet me.

A giant red blob fills my vision - some kind of inflatable decoration. Better than concrete.

"Ho ho ho- oof!"

My horns pierce vinyl as I crash through Santa's jolly belly. Air whooshes out in a long, wet-sounding raspberry that echoes across Times Square.

"Ewww!"

"Gross!"

"Did Santa just..."

Humans scatter like startled pigeons, their faces twisted in disgust. The once-mighty Saint Nicholas deflates beneath me with a sad whimper.

"Sorry about that, big guy." I pat what's left of his plastic head. "You deserved better."

A shadow falls across the deflated Santa. The scent hits my nostrils - Veritas agent, trying to smell human but failing miserably.

"Quite the show." Pyke adjusts his human disguise, a bland businessman type. "Though perhaps a bit excessive."

"You try falling six stories with style." I extract myself from Saint Nick's remains. "Where are they?"

"Safe. We've contained the situation. Our media contacts are spinning the ship launch as a holiday firework display gone wrong." He hands me a tablet showing various news headlines. "Seems humans will believe anything around Christmas time."

"And Gregor?"

"Gone. But we'll find him." Pyke extends his hand. "I must say, it's been a pleasure working with you, Krampus. Perhaps we could-"

"I wish I could say the same." A laugh rumbles in my chest as I ignore his offered handshake. "Now piss off. I have a promise to keep to the woman I love."

CHAPTER 23

MEL

Sunlight stabs through my eyelids. My neck cramps from sleeping at an odd angle on Mom's ancient floral couch. The clock on the mantle reads 6:43 AM.

"Krampus?" My voice echoes through the empty house.

No answer. My stomach twists.

The news notification on my phone catches my eye. I tap it with trembling fingers.

"BREAKING: Massive explosion rocks downtown business district. Ayl-Lean corporate headquarters completely destroyed in an apparent fireworks mishap."

The article shows photos of smoking rubble where the building used to be. Fire crews still battle hot spots in the wreckage.

"Local authorities suspect illegal fireworks storage led to a catastrophic chain reaction..."

My throat tightens. The rest of the words blur together.

I scroll through every news site I can find. Nothing about a seven-foot blue alien. No mentions of strange creatures. Just theories about illegal fireworks and structural damage.

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