Page 10 of Never Kiss a Krampus
He was close enough that I could see the individual links in his chains and the way his eyes weren’t just glowing but seemed to have actual flames dancing in their depths. Close enough to smell him—smoke and winter air and something spicy like cloves.
“I am Bastian,” he said formally. “Last of the Krampus of the Black Forest, Keeper of Winter Debts, Judge of the Naughty. And you, Noelle Green, have bound yourself to me until Christmas Day.”
“That’s less than two weeks away,” I said, grasping for anything resembling good news.
“Indeed. Ten days and twenty-three hours, to be precise. Ten days during which I will observe you. Your deeds. Your thoughts. Your true nature.” He leaned down slightly, bringing those burning eyes level with mine, and I could see actual flames burning in their depths. “Ten days to prove whether you deserve the aid you seek, or whether you are simply another human who mistakes want for need.”
“I do need it,” I whispered. “I’m not lying. I need to save my shop.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s all I have left of my grandmother. Because it matters to people. Because?—”
“Because you’re trying to avoid failure at the cost of everything else,” he finished. “Because you’re trying to prove something to ghosts and memories. Because you’re trying to earn a love that was always freely given.”
Tears stung my eyes, and I blinked them back furiously. Because he wasn’t wrong, and apparently, I couldn’t lie to him.
“The ritual revealed much,” he said, straightening. “But revelation and truth are not always the same thing. I will observe. I will judge. And on Christmas Eve, I will render my verdict.”
“And then what?”
“Then you receive aid, or you receive correction. It depends entirely on what I find.” He turned, surveying the attic with obvious disdain. “I assume you have somewhere less… cluttered for me to stay?”
“Stay?” My voice went up an octave. “Here? With me?”
“The binding does not allow for distance. We must remain within a certain proximity.” He looked back at me, and I could have sworn I saw amusement flicker in those burning eyes. “Surely your festive relaxation did not prevent you from reading that portion of the ritual?”
I hadn’t read that portion. I’d been too focused on the summoning itself.Idiot,I thought desperately.You absolute disaster of a human being.
“How close is a certain proximity?”
“Approximately the length of your dwelling. Any farther and the binding will cause… discomfort.”
“For both of us?”
“For both of us,” he confirmed. “Though I have endured far worse than magical bindings. You, I suspect, have not.”
I looked at him—all seven feet of demonic Christmas monster with glowing eyes and actual horns—and tried to imagine explaining him to Mrs. Haversham. Or anyone. Hi, yes, I accidentally summoned a Krampus and now he’s staying at my place for two weeks. No, he’s not a boyfriend. Yes, he’s terrifying. No, I don’t know what I was thinking.
“This is a disaster,” I said.
“These are the consequences.” He moved towards the attic stairs with that same impossible grace. “You performed a ritual without understanding its full implications. You called upon ancient powers while intoxicated. You drew a being from the space between worlds because you could not manage your own affairs.” He paused at the top of the stairs, looking back. “What did you expect would happen?”
“I don’t know! A loan officer? A business consultant? Maybe a helpful elf?”
“A helpful elf,” he repeated, and there was definitely amusement in his voice now. “The old magic does not send elves, little human. It sends judges. And I am here to judge whether youare worthy of salvation, or whether your failure is simply justice being served.”
He descended the stairs, ducking slightly to fit his horns through the doorway. I stood frozen in the attic, surrounded by boxes and broken Christmas decorations and the lingering smell of schnapps, trying to process what had just happened.
I’d summoned a Krampus. An actual, literal Krampus. And he was going to stay here, in my apartment, for ten days, observing and judging everything I did.
“This is fine,” I said out loud to the empty attic. “This is totally fine. Everything is fine.”
Everything absolutely wasn’t fine, but what choice did I have? Hiding in the attic for the next two weeks wasn’t going to save my shop. I sighed and followed him down the stairs.
CHAPTER 5
Itrudged down the stairs to find Bastian standing in my living room, taking up an absurd amount of space, his horns nearly touching the ceiling. He was examining my Christmas decorations with an expression that somehow managed to be both disdainful and fascinated.
