Nice: A Dark Christmas Duet book 1

by Vivian Murdoch

  Gruffer than I mean to, I toss her the warm clothes and exit out the bathroom. I need space and cold to help keep me in check. Not bothering to see if she's obeying me, I close the door behind and head outside to wait for her. The arctic air slams into me, leaving me breathless, but it's good. I can start to think a little more clearly. Time keeps going, and I keep pacing until a small hand rests on my arm.

  "Aren't you cold?"

  The small voice cuts me to my core. Pain, yearning, longing, all well up inside me. This shouldn't hurt so damn bad. But I can't look at her without Kris' second betrayal smacking me in the face. "You get used to it up here."

  "Oh. I supposed that makes sense."

  Grabbing her hand, I start the trek to North Pole Proper. Hopefully, by time we get there, the beast would have worn himself out. Howls and yips fill the night air, sending trembles through Caitlin’s body. I can understand her concern, but no animal would dare cross me. They can sense the alpha predator lurking deep within. Still, my heart warms just a touch as she clutches at my hand, depending on me to protect her.

  As we trudge onward, I note the slight sway in her form. I should have called a sled around. Then, I could have dragged her here without any effort at all. Pausing for a moment, I lean down and scoop her into my arms. Her surprised shriek is muffed by my shirt as I clutch her close to me. Her small frame warms my insides, soothing the raging beast. With her in my arms, we make much quicker time.

  After several minutes, we make our way under the arch leading into the NPP. Her eyes widen with wonder as she takes in all the sights and sounds. She's just like a child on Christmas day. I follow her eye line, trying to put myself back to when my dad took me here. However, instead of wonder, I always regarded the NPP with suspicion and unease. Fitting, actually, for the open hostility they always showed me. Swallowing the sudden lump in my throat, I push back memories of Kringle standing by me and welcoming me, despite the other denizens.

  Caitlin's fingers flutter up and down my chest as she points out various shops and restaurants. I try to match her enthusiasm, but I can only feign my excitement. She doesn't seem to notice it's fake, so I let her keep believing all is well between The North Pole and me. Off in the distance, Northport rises high into the night.

  All the windows are ablaze with twinkling lights. The impressive edifice doubled in size at least since Kris took over: yet another testament to the arrogance of the North Pole King. The fact that Kringle let him, even while he was still alive, galls me. Kris just couldn't wait to erase everything he could about that place. About us. Noting the various moving shadows within the windows, I grimace.

  At least I didn't make the trip for nothing. With that many figures bustling about, he must be home. Sighing, I shift Caitlin a little bit higher in my arms and head towards our destination. Poor Caitlin waves at all the people passing by, a huge grin on her face, but they sneer and give both of us a wide berth.

  Frowning, she looks up at me, her brows furrowed. "Am I not allowed to be here?"

  "What makes you ask that, princess?" The endearment slips past my lips before I can stop it. Scowling, I turn away from her questing gaze. If it were in my power, I'd drag every NPP citizen out of their homes and make them beg on their knees for her favor and grace. I snarl as another family shuffles their child away from us. I thought they could look past their wariness and hatred of me to bestow a modicum of kindness on her, but apparently not.

  She glances about before granting a dazzling smile on an undeserving elf family. As with all the others, they scurry away without a backwards glance.

  "No one seems to want me here. Are humans not allowed?"

  After a few more futile waves, her hand droops down along with her smile. Anger fills my gut as I clutch her close. Sadness is etched in every defeated line of her face. My beast throws its head back and howls. It's not her fault she's with me. She doesn't realize that they probably don't even see her. They're all too afraid of the big, bad Krampus. The only thing saving them at this moment is the fact that she's just a fleeting moment in my life, and I don't want to traumatize her any further than I already have.

  "It's not you baby," I murmur, nuzzling at the side of her head. She sighs and leans into my touch but remains silent.

  By the time we reach Northpoint, my anger is at a boiling point. Long gone is the excited human wriggling in my arms. Instead, Caitlin is despondent and pensive. I will rip everyone here limb from limb, but first, I need to confront the big man himself. Elation flows through me with each step I take. It's one step closer finally bringing this chapter to a close. I need this fight. My beast needs this fight.

  Without even bothering to knock, I lower Caitlin to the floor and barge right in, dragging her in tow. Servant elves race about, warning their master no doubt. I stalk through the main hall, and towards Kris's study. This close to dinner, that's probably where he'll be. Caitlin drags behind, her eyes wide and mouth agape. I've visited Northpoint enough that nothing shocks me. I've come to ignore the Christmas that's regurgitated on every available surface. However, Caitlin can't seem to figure out what she wants to look at first.

  A sort of awe illuminates her face as she bounces from one thing to the next. Fuck. Of course she'd be enamored with Christmas. It's just one more way that I'm inadequate. Numbness pervades my body as I watch her bounce about in glee. The sooner I can get to the bottom of this, the sooner I can go back to my life and not have to worry about Kris or Christmas again. For another year at least. Though I'm loathed to break her away, I grasp her hand and drag her towards the study. I don't want to risk running into the shifter squad, not when I have violence on my brain.

  Crashing through the study door, I take in the scene. Kris is sitting in his leather chair by a roaring fire, eggnog in hand. He doesn't even look up from his book when we enter. Instead, he slowly licks his index finger and turns the page.

  "Good evening cousin. To what do we owe this barging in, and so close to dinnertime?"

  I look behind me to watch Caitlin's face as realization finally dawns on her. Eyes wide, she looks between Kris and I before letting her mouth fall open. Growling, I grab her arm and thrust her in front of me. "What the fuck did you do Kris?"

  "I have no earthly idea what you're -." His words seize up as he finally looks up and sees Caitlin. "Angelica?" Kris's face pales even more than it already is as he stares at the apparition in front of him. "What?" In a slow sweep, his eyes finally meet mine.

  "As if you don't know?" None too gently, I grab her arm again and place her behind me.

  Chapter Eight: Caitlin

  Asmon's massive back does nothing to shield me from Kris's heated gaze. I peak around his shoulder to take in the gentleman sitting there. Is that really Santa? It must be. That is, if I still believe what's been going on. It only makes logical sense. A sense of awe fills me as I watch him rise from his chair. Though he makes a move to get closer to me, Asmon quickly thwarts him with a shift of his hips.

  "I won't ask again," he growls, his body vibrating violence.

  "I haven't answered because you've yet to explain why you and this woman are in my house."

  Kris's voice is calm and steady, but there's a thin edge to it. My palms grow damp as the air crackles with the tension pouring between the two. I ease back a few steps before Kris's eyes snap over to me.

  "Do not move an inch."

  Asmon steps forward, practically toe to toe with him. "You don't get to order her around. Now answer me. What did you do to the lists?"

  His gaze flicks back over me before his lips twist up in a lascivious grin. "I checked them as I always do this time of year." He pulls his gaze away and looks back up at Asmon. "Why? Not naughty enough? Perhaps I can change that."

  A shudder of revulsion wracks my body. I've grown up with stories of Santa until I finally reached the age where I stopped believing. The man in front of me looks nothing like the pudgy bearer of toys. Instead, Kris looks like he stepped out of a fashion magazine. His red si
lk pajamas look absolutely sumptuous and decadent. His strong jaw and twinkle to his ice-blue eyes is sure to make other women swoon, but not me. Unease rolls down my spine as he slowly looks me up and down. As hot as he is physically, it's still like getting hit on by grandpa.

  Growling, Asmon shoves Kris back towards his chair. "She's not naughty at all you idiot. She's nice. You've fucked up the lists."

  A gasp escapes my mouth. Can he curse in front of Santa? I glance at him, surprised to see the amount of anger and hatred marring his face. Maybe Santa isn't the good guy I was raised to believe?

  "The fudge I did?" he spats back. "I did my job. Just because you made a piss-poor choice." He glances over at me, lips tilted up in a half-assed apology "Not that you're piss-poor my dear.” Looking back to Asmon,” You can't come crying to me because of buyer's remorse."

  "You're not understanding me. She's not naughty. The worst she did was minor vandalism and lying when she was younger."

  Rolling his eyes, Kris examines his nails, his body language bored with the entire conversation. "So, you picked someone from the back of the list? You should have known better."

  Asmon throws his hands up into the air before poking his head out of study. "Someone get me the damn list!"

  "Really, Asmon. There's no need to terrorize my elves. Don't you have one of your own to abuse?"

  "Now wait a minute!" I finally gather my courage and step up to Santa, pausing before I poke him in the chest. My body trembles as I keep the façade of valor tightly around me. It's freaking Santa and I'm going toe to toe with him. What the hell am I thinking? Obviously, I have the insane need to defend Asmon. The way Kris is treating him just isn't right or fair. "He doesn't abuse anyone. In fact, he's treated Fredrick as well as he can...under the circumstances."

  Grinning, Kris grabs my finger and lowers it from his chest. "I'm sure there's a reason and excuse for everything. There always is with people like him."

  "Like him? What is that supposed to mean you pompous -."

  "Aha. See!" Asmon interrupts, thrusting the book under Kris's nose.

  Rolling his eyes, Kris takes the tome and scans it for a minute before his brows furrow.

  "And you’re sure she wasn’t lying?" Kris glances over at me for a moment.

  “Crème brûlée.”

  Eyes widening, Kris peers at me thoughtfully. “Such a decadent dish. You do aim high.”

  It finally hits me what they’re talking about. Heat engulfs my face as I turn away from Kris and his stupid smirk.

  “Then this isn’t right.”

  "That's exactly what I'm saying!" Asmon bellows.

  Kris looks up at me, the hunger lighting in his eyes. "You are indeed on the good list."

  Now it’s my turn to be surprised. That’s what this is all about? Frowning, I look at the book myself, and there’s my name, emblazoned in the naughty book. But how can they tell I’m not naughty? Guilt engulfs me as I think about my behavior a day or so ago. Nope, I’m fairly sure I belonged on that list.

  “The list must be correct. I mean, if the stories are correct, you check the list twice right? How can it be wrong?” I fiddle with my fingers, trying to avoid the stares of the men in front of me. They don’t understand. Maybe last year I was good, but my outbursts and drunken behavior were just deplorable, and I don’t deserve their pity or excuses.

  “Again, I ask you, what the fuck did you do, Kris. You’re the one in charge of the lists. How the hell did she get on there?”

  I wince as his voice ratchets up higher and higher. His anger and fury flow out of him, filling up the room. Wrapping my hands about my waist, I flit my gaze about, trying to find somewhere to hide from his wrath. It doesn’t matter that it’s not directed at me.

  “I guess go find another girl?”

  My stomach twists painfully at his words. I’ve only known Asmon for a day at most, but the thought of him pleasuring and punishing someone else makes me ill. Besides, he’s obviously not done with me yet. I’m still wracked with guilt. Doesn’t it make sense for him to just keep punishing me?

  “I’ve already punished this one.”

  “Oh dear. I bet you just feel awful, don’t you?” Kris grins and beckons me towards him. “Don’t worry Asmodeus, I’ll take care of this little morsel. Just like last time.”

  I stay planted where I’m at and watch Asmon as his face pales for just a moment before his horns burst through his skull. He doesn’t even wince as they slide out and curl on either side of his head. Anger and hatred blaze from his eyes. In increments, his skin dissolves into fur. But his eyes never leave Santa. Danger radiates off him that it’s almost like a visible shimmer. Like when the heat rises off the road in front of the sun.

  My body snaps into gear before my brain can even catch up. I fling myself at him, wrapping him in my arms. I don’t know what’s happening between these two, but something tells me that Asmon is about to snap. Maybe I can hold him back? I’m mortal. Perhaps that will appeal to his sense of logic.

  “Please. Please Asmon, don’t do this.”

  He looks down at me, his glowing eyes boring into my soul. Despite my fear, arousal thrums through my body like a live wire, crackling and zapping between us. I breathe in deep as I clutch him, willing him to breathe with me. After a few moments, the fur shimmers and disappears. All that remains are his horns. Asmon blinks a few times as he looks down at me. It’s like he’s finally seeing that I’m there.

  A look of intense grief flashes through his eyes before he eases my hands out from around him and steps away. I feel the loss instantly. What did I do wrong? Asmon glares over at Kris before crossing his arms.

  “That will be for her to decide.”

  Before Kris can ask me my choice, a lithe elf pops into the room and sinks into a deep curtsey. “Forgive me, master Claus, but dinner is now served. Cook prepared some for the mortal and,” she sniffs the air, “him. Shall they be joining us, or will you send them on their way?”

  Kris wipes his hand across his face, showing weariness for the first time. “They are staying and eating with us. Far be it from me that this little mortal runs home and tells tales of how Santa is inhospitable.”

  “Is it telling tales if it’s true?”

  Asmon nudges my ribs with his elbow. “Don’t make it worse, human.”

  The elf gives another deep curtsy before frowning up at Asmon. “I’ll notify the staff at once. All the staff.”

  Groaning, Asmon pinches the bridge of his nose. "Really Claus. You have to notify them?"

  He shrugs and watches the elf walk away, his eyes zeroing in on her ass. "What can I say, dinner is a family affair here. If you have a problem with that, you can always leave."

  Asmon spears me with a scalding glance. "You know I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here. I have no problem taking Caitlin and leaving just as soon as we figure this mess out."

  Kris smiles at him, each solid white tooth on display. A tremor of unease flows through me at his predatory grin. "Caitlin will be staying, of course."

  "Like hell I am!" I shout just as Asmon echoes my sentiments.

  Shrugging again, Kris opens his hands as if to say it's out of his hands. He's Father fucking Christmas. How is he not in control of any of this?

  "She's on the good list. As such, she's to be rewarded." His gaze slides over my form, stopping for a moment longer than necessary at my breasts. "More so since you've treated her so horrendously. I have to make it up to her somehow." Kris's eyes gleam as he rubs his hands together.

  "You know all of this is a misunderstanding. And since when do you reward good girls with your cock?" Asmon snorts.

  Kris's eyes widen at the lewd suggestion. Placing a hand over his heart, he begins to extol his virtues. Enough of this bullshit. Scoffing, I shuffle back over to the book list sitting near the fire. With both men standing toe to toe, it's easy for me to slip away without either of them noticing. Their loud voices rise, each high tone interspersed with finger pokes and
small shoves. Forcing them out of my mind, I sit down on the floor in front of the roaring fire and gather the book into my lap.

  Lucky for me, Frederick didn’t mind putting my brain at ease. He let me get a good look at Asmon’s naughty list before I went outside. This one is just as heavy as the one Asmon has but this is more decorated. Instead of just a plain, simple binding, this one has undefinable designs etched deep into the leather. Even the shade is different. Asmon's is a dark brown, almost black, and thick and stiff. This one is very sumptuous and buttery with a light brown sheen.

  I glare up at Santa as he continues to rant, his face inching ever closer to Asmon. It's clear from the opulence of this book that Kris passes the cheaper version on to him. But why? As Krampus, shouldn't the naughty list look nicer for him? What is Santa going to do with a naughty list? Shaking my head, I start flipping through the pages. Towards the beginning there are actually a few people I recognize from crime shows.

  Shivering, I quickly thumb through those and on to my name. That's really the one I'm interested in. Another difference of note is the designs around the names and locations. There's a square of filigree that surrounds the entire page. It was missing, of course, in Asmon's copy. That cheapskate jerk.

  As I get closer to my name, I notice a subtle shift in the scrollwork. The design is still the same, but the color seems different. Frowning, I flip back through to the beginning and see a nuanced shift from dark red to more of a candy cane red. Once I get to my name, I note that the filigree is mostly that bright red with just a few blips of the darker shade. As my eyes travel from left to right, I notice a small spike in the dark red before mellowing out to the lighter color. Interesting. Flipping the page, the colors go back to normal with mostly dark red interspersed with light.

  I look up, about to ask about it when the full weight of the scene comes crashing in. Asmon's horns are fully out of his skull, the twisted obsidian glinting like weapons from his head. Kris is almost nose to nose with him, eyes blazing with anger. Tension crackles the air around them as Asmon reaches out to choke Kris. I leap from the floor, about to separate the two. It doesn't matter if they don't see eye to eye, If Asmon hurts, or heaven forbid kills Santa, what will happen to all the children on the nice list?