The person on the other end answered on the first ring. “Who had eyes on Charlotte Cordova?” he asked. A muscle ticked in his jaw at the muffled reply. “Fucking interns.” He moved past me to take a seat at the breakfast nook, then waved a hand at the other side. “Alright, you have my attention. Explain.”
“I-really?” I blinked. Then quickly snapped out of my shock and pulled out my phone, already itching to regale anyone who would listen to the clusterfuck that had been my year. It didn’t take long to find the cloud folder full of receipts of their transgressions. I had it bookmarked after all. “Do you want anything to drink? This could take a minute.”
The beast leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “Does your evil twin have any eggnog?”
Grinning, I retrieved a pair of glasses from the cabinet and raided the fridge for eggnog and pecan pie. Then noticed - with no small irritation - that Charlotte had already started rearranging the cabinets into her god-awful way. Who puts plates in the lower cabinets instead of the pots and pans? Heathens, that’s who.
I beat down the dinnerware rant building in my throat and set our food and drinks at the table before sliding into the booth. Krampus nodded in thanks and helped himself to the first bite of pie. “Alright, get comfy monster man, this one’s a doozy.”
“I’m all ears,” he said, sipping his eggnog. Some of it dribbled down his chin. His tongue unfurled and I swear on my life the world slowed like in a cheesy teen movie when the “ugly” secretly pretty girl walks in without her glasses. It was a deep red and long enough to swipe the offending eggnog off his chin. A row of metal ball piercings lining the center commanded all of my attention as that tongue slid down to his throat to catch the last drop of liquid.
I dropped my fork. I dropped my jaw. I dropped every thought in my mind that didn’t involve a row of metal beads flicking against my dirtiest dreams. What, exactly, was his punishment? I may have reacted hastily.
Krampus swallowed and set his cup down. “Are you alright?”
“Huh?” I blinked rapidly, then looked down at my plate to avoid staring at the horns that were starting to look a lot like handlebars. “I mean…yes. I’m fine, where…where was I?”
“Your evil twin?”
“Yes! Of course.” I fumbled around for my phone and pulled up the original will. I started from the beginning, from growing up with the monster our parents’ favoritism created, to finding her and Louis in my bed weeks before our wedding and the hell I went through when I found out that Charlotte had manipulated Nana into signing everything over to her while she was barely conscious enough to remember her own name. He listened to my tale of woe without interruption. Krampus silently checked over the copy of Nana’s medical evaluation the judge ignored when I tried to fight the false will.
When I finished, he set the phone down and asked, “I have to know: how does the shrimp play into all this?”
“Right. Well, this is probably going to sound crazy, but I had this plan where I hide shrimp throughout the house. In a few weeks it will start to rot and stink up the place. Worst-case scenario, I ruin Louis and Charlotte’s new love nest. Best-case scenario, they abandon it completely and I can move back in. So long as I didn’t get caught, it seemed like an easy win for me.”
Krampus laughed and shook his head. “I need to make another call,” he said, rising from his seat.
“Wait,” I called, grabbing his hand. “Does this mean you believe me?”
He took my hand and squeezed and the level of comfort in that small touch rocked me to my core. “I believe you. Wait here.”
I believe you. Fuck, how long had I been waiting for someone to say that? Tears pricked my eyes as I watched him retreat out the back door. I sat at the table, trying to pull myself together. For months I had no one in my corner - aside from my friends at least. Even my own parents just tried to convince me to let it go in order to keep the peace. They always said Charlotte was the sensitive one and had to come first. They justified going along with the new will and giving her the house because I made more money than her. They dismissed the fact that she and Louis ripped my heart out of my chest because ‘you can’t help who you love.’ Then they acted like I was the crazy one when I refused to sit across from my cheating ex and my bitch of a sister for a nice family Christmas Eve dinner. They never even bothered to try and listen. But, this monster of all things, did. He believed me.
How fucked up is that?
When Krampus returned, I snapped out of my musing. He slumped into his seat with a thud, then reached into his wicker basket and pulled out a bottle of brandy. He uncorked it and poured a generous helping into my empty glass, then filled his own.
“You just keep a full bottle of brandy in your basket? A man after my own heart.”
“It’s no snickerdoodle martini, but it gets the job done.”
“I’m sorry, snickerdoodle martini? Where do I get one of those?”
“The elves at Santa’s workshop make drinks you’d weep over. Play your cards right and maybe they’ll bring you one for Christmas.” Krampus lifted his cup and gestured for me to do the same. When I did, he clinked them together with a cheers and threw it back.
“What did I just cheers to?” I asked, drinking mine as well.
He grinned. “Daphne Cordova, rejoice. You are the first person in history to be removed from my naughty list.”
“That’s great!” I said, standing up. “Does that mean I can get back to stuffing shrimp in hard-to-find places?”
“Oh no,” he laughed. “I’ve got something much more fitting in mind. Run along before they return.”
“What? Absolutely not. If you plan on punishing them, I want to stick around for the show.”
He gave me a smile that had my pulse racing. “Bloodthirsty little creature, aren’t you? Unfortunately for you, I am no entertainer. Begone, lest you wish to feel the bite of my branches yourself.”
The combination of brandy and eggnog must have muddled my sense of decency. Otherwise I would have never found myself saying, “The bite of a branch might be a hard limit for me, but if it means I get my revenge, I’d be open to the sting of your claws.”
