I flush at the praise, and busy myself with the supplies. Nobody has ever seen the real me before, the one who thinks of plans like this, and I doubt most people would call mebrilliantfor it. They’d be far more likely to call mederanged,sick,crazy.
“Well, I haven’t exactly done this before,” I say. “Hopefully it works in practice… and I don’t make too much and kill them right away.”
“It will work,” Krampus says.
I nod, assured by his confidence. “Okay. Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
I splash an eye-watering amount of vinegar into the bucket I brought. Then, holding my breath and turning my head away, I add the bleach, and pour the mixture into the vent before retreating. Krampus scoops me off my feet and carries me out of the room, his ears flat against his head.
“Terrible smell,” he says through gritted teeth, taking me all the way to the back door so we can step out into the fresh air.
I gulp it down despite the cold, and wipe my stinging eyes as he sets me on my feet. “Hopefully worse for them.”
Then we quiet down, listening. We aren’t sure exactly where they’ll emerge from.
It doesn’t take long. Soon, we hear the metallic groan of doors bursting open nearby, followed by a riot of coughing and swearing. They’re closer than I expected; there must be a tunnel leading outside. Krampus and I share a grim smile before following the sound toward the snow-covered hill on the side of the cabin.
The metal hatch opens from a clever hiding place in a cluster of rocks disguised by the landscape and covered in a layer of snow. I would’ve struggled to find this tunnel even if I knew where to look. But my chlorine gas has successfully chased the rabbits out of their hole. There’s a faint yellow tinge in the air around the open doors, and Louis and his parents are scattered across the hillside nearby, choking and retching.
My fiancé is on his knees in the snow, gasping for air in between racking coughs. His parents have managed to stay on their feet, but they both look disoriented, eyes streaming and legs unsteady.
By the time they see us, we’re almost on top of them.
Louis’s father holds the gun now, and Krampus goes straight for him. But I home in on his mother instead. She’s armed as well—with a fucking crossbow, of all things—and I’m not goingto underestimate her again. As she blinks tears from her eyes and levels the crossbow at me, I know the feeling is mutual.
I sprint at her, bare-handed, and tackle her to the snow.
For a second, I wonder how I managed to get her without getting shot. Then I notice the bolt sticking through my upper arm.
“You crazy bitch!” I shriek.
We grapple with the crossbow between us, just like we did with the gun. But instead of trying to fight a losing battle, she tosses it aside and jabs her long fingernails toward my eyes. Soon, we dissolve into a clawing, biting, hair-pulling catfight.
Behind us, I can hear Krampus and Karl struggling in the snow. The gun goes off once, and it takes all of my willpower not to turn and see how my monster fares.
“Louis!” Theodora screams as I pin her down in the snow. “Help me!”
I spare a glance sideways. Will Louis come to help her? Will he attack me to save his mother? I catch a glimpse of him staggering to his feet in the snow, head whipping between where Krampus fights his father and where I struggle with his mother. Then he takes a step back, and another. He shakes his head wordlessly, turns tail, and runs into the forest.
Once a coward, always a coward. But this time it works in my favor.
Fingernails slash across my cheekbone as I’m distracted, and I turn my attention back to Theodora.
“My husband and son don’t see you for what you are,” she pants as I try to keep her sharp nails at bay. Blood drips down my cheek, splattering onto her cheek. “They think you’re just a foolish pretty girl. But you’re not. You’redangerous. And I do not tolerate threats to my family.”
In response, I spit in her eye. She shrieks, writhing beneath me.
“You dirty littleanimal,” she screams. “We never should’ve allowed you inside! We should’ve left you out in the cold!”
“Yeah, you probably should’ve,” I say, and slap her across the face.
We roll through the snow, tearing at each other with teeth and claws like we’re both feral beasts. I’m younger and stronger than her, but she has a wiry strength of her own, and I’m already wounded. When she grabs the end of the crossbow bolt and shoves it further into my shoulder, I black out for a second. When I come to, she’s on top of me with her hands around my neck. The tendons in her thin body stand out as she throttles me with a shocking strength. I struggle against her, but she has me pinned and helpless, and my nails aren’t sharp enough to do as much damage as hers.
She smiles grimly down at me. “I knew you weren’t cut out for this family,” she says.
A scream from behind us draws her attention to her husband and Krampus. She looks over her shoulder, but her hands stay locked around my neck.
