Page 9 of The Krampus' Queen
“Struggling to form the words?” A red eye peeks out from below his thick lashes. I nervously tighten the fur around my shoulders even though I’m so sweat-drenched I might slip right out of it. “Then I shall tell your tale for you. On Christmas Eve you were summoned to the house of one Damien DeVere the second.”
Gritting my jaw, I give a curt nod. Krampus doesn’t even glance my way. He’s returned to soaking in his mega hot tub.
“Where you were asked to do some menial work, no doubt with the promise of extra coin given the nearness of the holiday.”
“I had to babysit his kid.”
Krampus takes another peek. “My condolences,” he says before resuming his relaxation. If he wasn’t a horned goat-man from hell, I’d half expect him to put cucumbers over his double-pupil eyes. “Just as the night is winding down, the master of the house returns with offers of greater riches, gifts, and more if you agree to stay until Christmas.”
I dig deeper into my brain. The fog hasn’t crept away, only lightened. Flickers of a room, a bell, men in suits… Undertakers! No, that was a clock. A ski trip. Yes.
“I turned him down.”
Arms splash into the water and Krampus sits up in surprise. “Really? That’s a first.”
“There was no fucking way I was going to spend all of Christmas trapped with that little monster.” The night unspools in my brain like a poorly edited montage. That brat flushing my birth control. Toilet paper and hot sauce. Broken glass…
A groan slips out. “But he offered me a drink, and I took it.” Fuck.
“You woke to find yourself chained up,” he continues my tale like he was there the whole time.
“In whatever this is. I do not babysit in sleepwear,” I say as if my babysitting scruples are in question. After this, I’m never going near another family’s brat again. “I woke just before you…appeared.”
“Slid down the chimney.”
I stare at the man who could probably tear a chimney off of a house barehanded. “Sure,” falls from me, hiding none of my disbelief. “I don’t remember. I don’t… Why? Why did he do that?” Ignoring the whole serial killer possibility it doesn’t make a damn bit of sense. I’m a nobody. Rich people don’t kidnap nobodies unless, again, serial killers.
“It’s quite simple. You were bait.”
Bait? Like a minnow on a hook?
My wrists throb and I gulp.
Exactly like a tiny minnow helplessly dangling off of a line. “For who?” tumbles from my mouth just as I stare at him.How does he know all of this? Can he see the past? Was he watching the whole time?
Krampus places a hand to his chest and slightly tips his head. “Me.”
“You? Why the…?” The chains, the silk nightie, the fact he left me in a dark room next to the fireplace… “Are you telling me, I was some fucking yule sacrifice to the goat god?”
“I’ve never been called a god before.” He smiles like I complimented him.
Rage percolates in my blood. “He tricked me into the worst job of my life. I was tortured by that sniveling little shit for two hours. Just for him to strip me down and tie me up like the goddamn Christmas roast!” I unleash a roar at the man bobbing in the water. He doesn’t even blink at my clenched fists, burning face, and straining neck.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His easy-going demeanor shifts. “That is a long tale not so easily answered, but to cut it short, you were there so I could not complete my job.”
“I was a fucking distraction? Like an air horn or saying ‘look over there!’” I can’t let this go. That rich asshole turned me into nothing more than a wrench thrown at someone’s kneecaps, or a bright piece of candy left on the table. Oh, fuck him and that fucking demon spawn.
A loud splash shakes me from my endless loop of cursing DeVere out. I start, realizing I’d been pacing through the spa and dragging the fur with me. The ends are sopping wet and growing heavier as they soak up more water. A single quick snort whips me away before I can feel too foolish.
He’s curled his hand under his chin and keeps tapping a finger to his lips. “Interesting. Most fall into despair if they ask about the truth, and even fewer bother. I’ve never seen such anger before.”
“This is nothing.” I wrench my arms up and clench my fists. “Once I get my hands on him—”
“No!” His thunderous command claps around the spa and my arms drop. I glare, but he closes his eyes and leans back—all interest in me gone. “You will walk through that door and forget Mr. DeVere and all he’s done to you.”
