Page 32 of Prize for the Alien Grumpus

Krampus studies me, head tilted.

"So, you sought to assuage your adoptive parent's guilt by deception?" He clucks his tongue. "Though your intentions were pure, you were still naughty. I'm afraid I'll have to spank you later."

A laugh bubbles up from my throat, but dies as I meet Krampus' gaze. His red eyes smolder with an intensity that steals my breath. Heat floods my cheeks as understanding dawns - he wasn't joking about the spanking.

"Oh, well..." I fidget with my phone, suddenly very aware of his massive presence beside me. "I kind of don't dislike that idea. But it doesn't solve the problem of what I'm going to tell my parents."

"Tell them the truth." His voice rumbles through me like distant thunder. "Or as much as you are able. It is the only way to be free."

My stomach knots as I stare at the phone. He's right, of course. These lies have been a chain around my neck for years, growing heavier with each fabrication. But the thought of disappointing them again...

Sam shifts in her sleep, reminding me of simpler times when my biggest worry was whether she'd eat her vegetables. Now here I sit, harboring an alien fugitive while contemplating both corporal punishment and coming clean to my parents.

With trembling fingers, I pull up my parents' number. Krampus' hand covers mine, steady and warm.

"Your strength exceeds your own estimation," he says softly. "Face this battle as you have faced all others - with courage."

Drawing a deep breath, I press the call button.

CHAPTER 12

KRAMPUS

The tiny communication device in Mel's hand chirps with an incoming signal. Her face drains of color as she reads the caller identification.

"Mother." The word comes out as a whisper.

I lean against the kitchen counter, fascinated by the sudden change in my host's demeanor. This fierce woman who attacked me with sporting equipment now trembles at the prospect of maternal contact.

"Hi Mom." Mel's voice rises three octaves. "No, of course you're not interrupting anything."

The voice on the other end carries clearly to my enhanced hearing. "We'll be there for dinner. Your father wants to discuss your life choices."

"Tonight?" Mel squeaks.

"Seven sharp. Don't overcook the roast this time."

Mel sets the device down with shaking hands. "Well. That's happening."

"Your maternal unit causes you distress?"

"You could say that." She runs her fingers through her hair. "I need to clean. Everything needs cleaning. And cooking. And-"

"Perhaps I should depart." The words taste bitter. "My presence complicates your family dynamic."

Sam peers around the doorframe.

"Are Grammy and Grampy coming?"

"Yes sweetie. Help Mommy clean?"

I straighten up as an idea forms. "I will retire to your vehicle storage facility. I have a plan."

"The garage?" Mel's eyebrows draw together. "What kind of plan?"

"A good one. Trust me."

"That's what worries me." But she's already moving to gather cleaning supplies.

---