Page 53 of Never Kiss a Krampus
“Remember my suspicions about Grinchly’s powers?”
“Yes, but I just can’t believe he’s some evil wizard.’
He nodded. “I agree. However he carries the air of tainted magic.”
“You really think he’s behind this? The whole town’s Christmas malaise?”
“I think he is connected to it. Whether as architect or accomplice remains unclear.”
I tried to process this. Grinchly—slimy, conventional, greedy Grinchly—involved in a magical theft of festive energy? It seemed absurd.
Except it also made perfect sense.
“He’s been trying to buy up properties all year,” I said slowly. “But after he bought the antique shop in September, it seemed as if more businesses began to struggle. He wants all of the buildings on this street and we’re all having a hard time.”
“It is a suspicious pattern.”
“But how could he do it? I can’t believe he understands anything more than spreadsheets.”
“He does not need to understand magic to utilize it.” His tail lashed once, sharp and angry. “He may not ever know what he carries, but evil attracts evil.”
I shuddered.
“Can we stop him?”
“The binding limits what I can do. I cannot act without your command,” he said. “You could send me after him.”
He was asking for permission. I could set him loose. I could point him at Grinchly and say,go. The temptation was a bitter, intoxicating thing. To see that smug, cruel man brought to heel, to see the fear in his eyes. It would be so easy, so satisfying.
But then I remembered the book.Beware their aid comes with a price, and they are not gentle.And I remembered the look on Bastian’s face when he’d saidI am not a monster.
“No. Not yet.” I gestured around us, at the shop that suddenly felt like a fortress. “I have a plan now. The Good Deeds Extravaganza. I’ll save my shop with joy, not with fear.”
“Joy is a fragile weapon, little light, especially against dark forces.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
“Not quite the only one you have.” His tail lightly touched my waist. “But perhaps we should seek proof of his misdeeds.”
My mind scrambled for a plan.
“All of his transactions would be a matter of public record. I just don’t know if that would help.”
The thought of another mission, another complication, made my head ache. Between Grinchly, the storm, and whatever was happening between me and Bastian, I was stretched to my limit.
“You have a list,” he observed, “and this is not on it.”
“My list is ‘sell enough ornaments so as not to lose my shop.’ Magical research was not part of the business plan.”
He studied my face for a moment.
“Very well, little light. We will take tonight to rest.”
CHAPTER 18
The morning rush had been brutal.
Three tour buses had somehow coordinated their arrival times, depositing what felt like half of Albany into my tiny shop. I’d sold out of snowman mugs, nearly depleted my stock of artisan ornaments, and personally witnessed a bidding war over the last hand-painted nativity set.
