Putting the uncomfortable question aside to consider later, he verified that thanks to his intervention, the female was unhurt. As soon as she was safely back in her cottage, he considered the problem in greater detail. The male needed to be taught a lesson. If they were back on Tandrok, there would be a number of subtle, but effective, ways he could discourage the male without outright confrontation. As his temper cooled, he discarded his original, embarrassingly primitive desire to cause physical harm to the male. But perhaps there were other ways to make him pay…
He waited until most of the lights in the village had disappeared, then set out on his journey. This time he was prepared, although no less disapproving, for the scattering of snowflakes drifting down from the sky. His dark thermal suit kept him dry and warm as he made his way down the mountain. His path led him past Jaelle’s cottage. A small light still flickered in one of her windows. Was she awake? Should he stop and introduce himself? Explain that he was taking action on her behalf?
He had a sudden, intoxicating vision of her smiling at him, her tantalizing pink lips curling up as she placed her hand on his. His body stirred at the image, taking it further, imagining that he was touching her, pulling her body against his, ripping away the dull gown that concealed her from him so that he could explore –
By Moroz’s horns, what was he thinking? His people had long abandoned such primitive mating rituals. Physical contact was to be avoided. Alliances were arranged for mutual benefit, and if a child was desired, a carefully selected egg would be quickly and efficiently fertilized.
He forced himself to turn away from the lure of the cottage and resume his trip. The village lay in silence as he slipped past the first buildings, but as he made his way into town, he realized that a few small lights still shone here and there. In his impatience, he had failed to wait until everyone was asleep. No matter. The suit would conceal him. And if it did not? His claws tingled again.
As he reached Knut’s dwelling, he heard a raised voice from a small building at the rear and recognized the obnoxious blustering. He silently approached the outbuilding.
“Goddamnit, boy! Do I have to do everything myself?” The sharp crack of flesh against flesh sounded. “I am paying you to make my life easier!”
The muttered reply was too quiet for him to make out most of the words but he heard a fragment.
“… bad man…”
“You’ll see how bad I am if you don’t get those harnesses cleaned. Now get back to work - and do it right this time.”
Krampasarian faded back into the shadows as the male came striding past. He was tempted to carry out his original impulse and force a physical confrontation, but really such primitive methods were beneath him. Instead an idea - a wonderful, terrible idea - had come to him as he listened to the male rant. Whoever was in the shed made the male’s life easier. Therefore, he would remove him.
The fragments of the tales he had overheard came back to him. This was the time of year when one’s actions were judged. The male would understand that this was a punishment inflicted on him for his offenses.
Mind made up, he peered around the open door. The only occupant was a young male, his shoulders shaking as he bent over a cleaning instrument. This was the object of the male’s rage? His own anger threatened to reappear, and for a moment, he wished he had given into his primitive instincts. But no, this would be better. The male would suffer the child’s loss and Krampasarian would make sure that the boy was protected.
Approaching on silent feet, he puffed a small dose of a sleeping potion into the air in front of the boy, catching him as he sagged to the ground. The slight body weighed almost nothing, but he needed to keep his hands free in case he encountered anyone on the return journey. He pulled a utility sack from his belt and carefully placed the child inside. Made from the same material as his suit, it would keep him dry and warm as they went up the mountain.
With the sack over his shoulder, he slipped back through town and began to climb.
When he reached Jaelle’s cottage, the light had been extinguished. Giving in to temptation, he strode silently through the garden to the window that opened to her bedroom, well aware of its location due to his frequent observations. The curtains were ajar and enough moonlight made its way through the clouds that he could see her.
She was curled in a small bed, dark hair in a glorious disarray across her pillow. As he watched, she tossed restlessly, her covers slipping down to reveal a thin, white gown that revealed a tantalizing glimpse of the upper swell of her breasts. A desperate desire to see more consumed him, but even as he stared, her eyes opened, midnight blue and mysterious in the moonlight, as she looked back at him, unafraid. Then a warm smile curved those tempting pink lips before her eyes fluttered closed once more.
She had seen him, he was sure of it. And she hadn’t screamed or cowered. Perhaps his earlier, wishful thoughts weren’t so impossible after all.
But then a slight shift in the body tucked against his back reminded him of his mission. He would consider the possibility of an introduction another time. Right now, he had a child for whom he was responsible.
The rest of the trip was accomplished without difficulty, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he was safe aboard his ship once more. The episode had been entirely too stimulating. As soon as he took care of the child, he would practice some calming meditations.
As he removed the child from the sack and placed him carefully on a small bunk, it occurred to him that he might have made a mistake. Now that he had him, what was he going to do with him? He was almost tempted to keep the child unconscious, but he couldn’t quite convince his conscience that it would be for the best. With a sigh, he puffed the antidote into the boy’s face.
It worked immediately. The child’s eyes opened, then widened, and he scrabbled back across the bunk until he hit the wall. Krampasarian spread his empty hands wide in what he hoped was a universal indication that he meant no harm.
“What the fuck are you?” the boy asked, his eyes still wide.
Krampasarian frowned. “Aren’t you too young to be using such vulgarities?”
“You’ve got horns!”
“Yes, I do.” He nodded complacently, pleased with the boy’s observation. Carefully oiled and trimmed, his horns were a source of great pride. He had the largest set in his squad.
The child did not appear to be listening. Instead, he was scanning the cabin, his gaze coming to rest on the door behind Krampasarian. “Where am I? Why’d you bring me here?”
That was rather a difficult question. In the light of day and now that his anger had cooled, he rather regretted his impulsive decision.
“I wished to punish your… employer. Your legend speaks of a dark spirit that takes valuable things away from those of evil intent.”
“Dark spirit? You mean Krampus?” The child snorted, his disgust overcoming his fear. “Well, you got it all wrong. Knut doesn’t value me.”
“But you work for him.”
“Not hard enough, according to him.” A calculating look came into the boy’s eyes. “But maybe if I’m not there, he’ll realize what he’s missing.” He hopped down from the bunk. “You got anything to eat around here?”
Taken aback, Krampasarian stared at the boy until the child made an impatient noise.