I reached for a clean mug, anything to occupy my hands, and promptly dropped it when his gaze tracked the movement like a predator following prey. The ceramic slipped from my suddenly nerveless fingers, tumbling toward the floor. His hand shot out but instead of catching the mug, his fingers wrapped around my wrist. His thumb pressed against my pulse point, and I knew he could feel my heart hammering. His claw traced a delicate circle there, the barest pressure, a threat and a promise wrapped into one gentle motion.
The mug shattered against the floor. No one moved to clean it up.
"Careful," he said, still holding my wrist. His thumb continued its maddening circles against my skin. "I'd hate to see anything else broken."
The double meaning wasn't lost on me. I stood frozen, caught in the electricity arcing between us. He released me slowly, reluctantly, his claws dragging lightly along my inner wrist as he pulled back. The touch left invisible trails of fire, and I had to bite my lip to hold back whatever embarrassing sound was trying to escape my throat.
"Simone Parker," he said, and hearing my name in that voice felt like being unwrapped, layer by layer. "You've been playing manager in my absence."
It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway, not trusting my voice.
"The café has survived. But has it thrived?" His gaze swept around, taking in the mismatched furniture, Bramble's decorations, the customers who were pretending not to eavesdrop. "I require more than survival from my investments."
My spine stiffened. "The Hearth isn't just surviving. We have more regulars than ever. Revenue is up twelve percent since fall. We've expanded the menu and added Bramble's greenhouse teas, which have been incredibly popular."
His eyebrows rose slightly, as if he hadn't expected me to have actual numbers at my fingertips. Good. Let him underestimate me. Let him think I was just a pretty girl, not the backbone of this entire operation.
"Impressive," he conceded, though the word seemed to cost him. "But appearances can be deceiving. A week."
"A week?" I repeated.
"I'll observe for one week." His smile revealed more fang, sending another inappropriate shiver through me. "See if you're truly as... competent as you believe."
The way he said "competent" made it sound like he was imagining something entirely different. Something that involved significantly fewer clothes and possibly those claws against other parts of my skin.
I swallowed hard. "And then?"
"And then I decide if you stay or go." He straightened to his full height, towering over the counter. "If you're worthy of permanently running my establishment."
The café had gone so quiet I could hear the snow hitting the windows outside. Everyone was watching, waiting to see how I'd respond to this challenge. To this threat to the place that had become my home more than my empty apartment ever had.
"Deal," I said, surprising myself with the steadiness in my voice. "One week. I'll prove exactly how worthy I am."
His eyes glinted with something that might have been approval. Or amusement. Or hunger. With him, it was impossible to tell the difference.
He leaned in one last time, close enough that his breath tickled my ear when he spoke. "Let's see if you're good enough to keep it."
The words coiled around me, a challenge and a dare. His cloak of shadows brushed against my arm as he turned away, moving toward the back of the café where the hidden staircase led to the owner's private quarters. The crowd parted for him like water breaking around a stone, no one daring to meet his eyes.
Only when the door closed behind him did the café explode into whispers. Silas appeared at my side, eyes wide with a mixture of terror and delight.
"Holy hell, Sim," he breathed. "You just stood up to Krampus."
I was still staring at the door where he'd disappeared, my wrist burning with the memory of his touch. "I did, didn't I?"
"And lived," Bramble added, materializing on my other side. "More importantly."
I nodded, but my mind was racing ahead. One week to prove myself. One week with him watching my every move. One week to convince him I deserved to stay.
One week to figure out why the most terrifying creature I'd ever met made me feel more alive than I had in years.
Chapter three
Simone
The morning after meeting the boss from hell. Literally. Went on as usual, surprisingly. I'd spent half the night convincing myself I'd dreamed the whole encounter, but there he was, sprawled across my largest corner booth like some dark king on a throne, watching me with a focus that made my skin buzz with electricity. The café hummed with its usual morning energy, though today's symphony came with an undercurrent of tension. Customers spoke in hushed tones, stealing glances at the massive figure in the corner. Krampus had claimed the boothfarthest from the counter but with the clearest sightline to where I worked. His position couldn't have been more strategic if he'd measured the angles with demonic protractors.
His legs, those powerful, furred things ending in hooves that should have been ridiculous but somehow weren't, stretched into the walkway, forcing customers to navigate around them. He hadn't ordered anything. Didn't appear to need sustenance like the rest of us mortals. All he did was watch. Me. With unblinking eyes that tracked my every movement like I was prey he was considering how to devour.
