Page 49 of Never Kiss a Krampus
I leaned against the counter, the cold from the granite seeping through my sweater. “Can we prove that?”
“No, but since the blizzard was not natural…” A predatory grin crossed his face. “The removal does not have to be natural.”
“What do you mean?”
“Watch.” He raised his free hand and began waving it gently back and forth, like a conductor directing an orchestra. Outside the window, the snow started to swirl, not violently, but gently, as if caught in an unseen wind. The drifts against the door and windows began to shrink, not melting, but dissipating into sparkles of frost and shadow. They were vanishing. Returning to wherever manufactured weather came from.
My jaw dropped. “How… how are you doing that?”
“I am dispersing the energy, and unraveling the spell.” He lowered his hand, and the snow settled. The entrances to the shops were now clear. The sidewalks were passable. It was still a lot of snow, but it was now just the aftermath of a snowstorm, not an impenetrable barrier.
I stared out the window, then back at him. He stood there, holding his coffee like it was the most normal thing in the world to be casually rewriting the weather with a wave of his hand.
“That’s… a lot of power.”
“I told you I had control over ice. The blizzard was crudely made. A brute-force spell. It was unwoven easily.” He looked out at the cleared street. “Your Grinchly is powerful, but he is not subtle.”
The idea still seemed too far-fetched to be real. “It can’t have been him. He’s a real estate developer, not a wizard.”
“Perhaps not. He may not be more than a tool, but there is power here. Power he is using for selfish, destructive ends.” He turnedto me, and the amusement had vanished from his eyes. They were dark and predatory. “This changes things.”
“How so?”
“Whoever is behind this has escalated. This is no longer a matter of financial struggle. This is an act of aggression against the town, against the season itself.”
“Maybe he’s just trying to make money?” I suggested doubtfully.
“He is trying to crush the spirit of this place. To extinguish its light. And that,” he said, his voice dropping into a rumble I felt in my bones, “is something I cannot allow.”
A shiver went through me that had nothing to do with the cold. This wasn’t the grumpy, sarcastic Krampus who criticized my ornament placement. This was something else. Something ancient and formidable.
“So what do we do?” I asked quietly
“We investigate.” He placed his mug on the counter with a decisive click. “We find out if he’s really behind this.”
“And then?”
He met my gaze, and a slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. “And then we see how he fares when faced with consequences.”
“Right now?”
“No.” His face softened. “Right now we open the shop.”
The morning started off slow, but the steady trickle of customers became a current. People came in for a single ornament andstayed for an hour. They admired the tree, bought too many candy canes, and of course, they all stared.
“That’s him,” I’d hear, in a loud whisper. “The consultant.”
He remained a looming, silent presence near the front of the shop, occasionally righting a displaced gnome or adjusting a strand of tinsel with meticulous focus. His silence and glowering intensity only fueled the town’s curiosity. A group of teenage girls egged each other into approaching him.
“Excuse me,” one said. “We’re doing a project for our photography class. On… um… local color. Could we take your picture?”
He stared down at her. The girl gulped but held her ground.
“The human concept of ‘local color’ is a romanticized fabrication,” he said, his voice flat. “But you may photograph me. Do not use flash. It detracts from the ambiance.”
The girls were thrilled. They posed with him, chattering away, while he stood with the stoic patience of a mountain. They bought enough handmade stockings to fund my coffee habit for a month, then scampered out, already posting online.
By mid-afternoon, a line had formed at the door. I’d never seen anything like it. I was wrapping presents so fast my fingers were a blur, the paper crinkling like happy applause.
