“Just a moment,” I said, stepping away and pulling Eve aside. My voice dropped to a whisper. “Why does he still remember? When will the potion kick in?”
Eve glanced at Liam, her brow furrowing. “I was wondering the same thing,” she admitted. “I think it’s Salima’s healing power. It’s stronger than my potion. You may have a few hours before his memories start to fade.”
I ran a hand through my hair, the gravity of her words sinking in. A few hours. That wasn’t much time, and it definitely wasn’t enough to keep him from digging deeper. But right now, I didn’t have a choice.
Turning back to Liam, I forced a smile. “Okay,” I said, my voice calm. “Let’s go.”
His eyes lit up, and he grabbed a jacket, ready to follow me into the unknown. I swallowed hard, ignoring the knot in my chest. This wasn’t how I’d planned for him to step into my world, but there was no turning back now.
We drove across town, and I spotted the house as soon as we turned onto the street. “Wow,” I muttered, slowing the car as I took in the spectacle before me. The place looked like the Griswolds’ Christmas cannon had hit it. Every inch of the yard was covered in twinkling lights, glowing candy canes, and inflatable decorations. A giant Santa waved cheerily from the roof, while a glowing reindeer setup blinked in sync to Christmas music, piping faintly through outdoor speakers. Even Liam, sitting in the passenger seat, let out a low whistle.
“Subtle,” he said, smirking.
“Festive overkill,” I replied, pulling into the driveway.
Victor was waiting for us at the front door, his expression as grim as the holiday display was cheerful. He motioned for us to follow him inside, stepping past a wreath on the door that could’ve doubled as a shield.
The house was quiet, almost eerie in the glow of the decorations. “The family was gone for the weekend,” Victor explained as he led us into the living room. “They came back yesterday to find a dead guy in their house.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Dead guy? As in Krampus’ latest victim?”
Victor nodded, gesturing toward the sofa, where a stack of papers sat neatly arranged. “He broke in while they were away. The homeowners called the cops, but by the time the SNPD arrived, it was clear this wasn’t your typical break-in.”
Liam glanced around, his brow furrowed. “So, why this house?”
Victor pointed to a set of photos on the coffee table. Two kids, a boy and a girl, sat on Santa’s lap, their faces glowing with holiday cheer. “They had these taken at the village three days ago,” Victor said.
I stared at the photos, the pieces clicking into place. “So Krampus is using the village as a hunting ground,” I said, my voice flat.
“Looks like it,” Victor confirmed, crossing his arms. “He’s tracking families with kids. I’m not sure how the dead guy fits in yet. I’m waiting for a report on him.”
I exhaled slowly, glancing at Liam out of the corner of my eye. He was taking it all in, his jaw tight, but he didn’t say anything. I could tell his mind was racing, trying to fit the supernatural into his understanding of the world.
“Great,” I muttered. “A demon with a Santa complex. Just what we needed.”
Victor’s lips twitched, but the faint humor didn’t reach his eyes. None of this was funny—not the murders, not the pattern, and definitely not the fact that Krampus was still out there.
The inside of the house was just as over-the-top as the outside. Every inch of the living room screamed Christmas. Garlands wrapped in twinkling lights hung from the ceiling beams, stockings the size of small children were pinned to the fireplace, and a train set circled a massive tree that was dripping with ornaments and tinsel. There were nutcrackerson every available surface, and even the lampshades had been swapped out for ones shaped like Santa hats.
“Wow,” Liam muttered, glancing around. “It’s like Christmas exploded in here.”
“Exploded and stayed for coffee,” I added, stepping around a life-size Santa that looked suspiciously like it might start singing if I got too close.
Standing by the sofa, Victor didn’t seem fazed by the holiday chaos. His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out, his expression darkening as he read the message. “Got the report on the victim,” he said, looking up at us. “I ran his fingerprints. He was a mundane thief—pretty low-level. Targeted homes while the families were away.”
“That’s different from the last victim,” I pointed out, crossing my arms. “Brody was a predator, but this guy? A thief? Seems like Krampus took it a bit too far.”
Victor nodded slowly, his gaze flicking to the coffee table, where the photos of the kids still sat. “It’s not random, though. This guy must’ve been staking out families at Santa’s Village. He either said or did something that tipped Krampus off, making him think this guy planned to target the kids or infiltrate the home.”
“Doesn’t make it less overkill,” I muttered, glancing at the garland-draped staircase. “Binding him, whipping him with birch branches—it’s like Krampus has one mode—maximum punishment.”
Victor sighed, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “That’s how he operates. He doesn’t see shades of gray. To him, any threat to children is a capital offense.”
Liam, standing by the train set, frowned. “So, what’s stopping him from just… punishing anyone he thinks is guilty? I mean, how does he even decide?”
“He doesn’t need proof,” Victor said grimly. “He acts on what he sees—and sometimes, what he assumes. If this thiefmade one wrong move at Santa’s Village, Krampus would’ve marked him as a threat.”
“That’s comforting,” Liam said dryly, shaking his head. “A demon judge, jury, and executioner.”
