“Pretty much,” Greyson said. “But that gives you anadvantage. If she’s not here, you don’t have to worry about her throwing curveballs while you deal with Krampus. Focus on stopping him before he does too much damage.”
“Easier said than done,” I muttered, glancing at the others. Liam was standing quietly, his jaw tight, his focus razor-sharp. He didn’t say anything, but I could see the determination in his posture.
“Just be careful,” Greyson said, his voice softening slightly. “Krampus is unpredictable. He’s not like the other demons you’ve dealt with.”
“We’ll handle it,” I said, my voice firm. “Thanks.”
“Anytime,” he said. “Keep me updated.”
The call ended, and I slipped the phone back into my pocket. My gaze swept across the area before meeting my friends’ and son’s eyes. “You heard him,” I said. “We focus on Krampus. Dagna’s not here.”
Liam nodded, his expression hard. “Then let’s stop wasting time and find him.”
Aurora’s phone buzzed, cutting through the tense silence in the coffee shop. She pulled it from her pocket, her brows furrowing as she glanced at the screen. “Victor,” she said simply before answering. “Hey.”
We all watched her, the air in the room growing heavier with every second. She listened intently, her expression hardening as whatever Victor was saying sank in. For a split second, her eyes blazed, that faint wolfish glow flickering like a warning light. “We’ll be right there,” she said quickly, then ended the call, sliding her phone back into her pocket.
“What is it?” I asked, already dreading the answer. My voice came out sharper than I intended, but the knot forming in my stomach didn’t leave room for politeness.
Aurora turned to me, her expression grim. “There’s been another murder.”
Tegan’s eyes widened. “Where?”
Aurora didn’t need to say a word. She simply pointed toward the village, the motion as heavy as a hammer blow. “Right here.”
The knot in my stomach tightened, twisting painfully as I stood up, grabbing my coat and slinging it over my shoulders. My pulse was already picking up, and I could feel the adrenaline kicking in. “Let’s go,” I said, my voice low and steady, though her words hung over me like a storm cloud.
CHAPTER 13
Icursed under my breath, the sharp words cutting through the tension in the room. “Where in the village?” I demanded, heading for the door.
Aurora’s jaw tightened, and she hesitated for only a moment before answering. “A candle shop,” she said. “The one I checked out half an hour ago.”
“Damn it,” I hissed, turning and breaking into a jog. The others were right behind me, their footsteps pounding against the frozen ground as we wove through the crowds of holiday shoppers. The cheerful music piped through the village speakers felt cruelly out of place, mocking the urgency in our every step.
“How the hell did he manage that when you were just there?” I asked Aurora, glancing at her over my shoulder. My breath came in short bursts, my chest tight with both exertion and frustration.
Aurora shook her head, her eyes blazing with frustration. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “The shopkeeper was about to go on break. He had posted a sign saying the shop would beclosed for fifteen minutes. Everyone is working longer hours as it’s almost Christmas.”
“Too quiet,” Tegan muttered behind me, her voice low.
Krampus was playing us, staying one step ahead while we scrambled to catch up. My heart pounded in my chest as we rounded a corner, the glow of holiday lights casting long shadows across the snow-covered streets.
When we reached the candle shop, we came to an abrupt halt. A blockade of officers stood in front of the store, their faces pale and grim as they tried to keep the growing crowd of onlookers at bay. The store’s window was lit with the glimmer of flickering candles, a peaceful facade hiding the horror inside.
My breath hitched as I took it all in, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. Krampus had been here, right under our noses, and we’d missed him. Again.
We cautiously approached the candle shop, weaving through the crowd gathered just outside the blockade. The soft glow of the shop’s window lit their curious faces, and the flickering candlelight inside cast an eerie warmth against the night.
As we neared, a mundane officer stepped forward, his hand raised to stop us. “I’m sorry, this area is off-limits?—”
“It’s okay,” Victor’s familiar voice called from the shop’s entrance as he stepped outside. His face was grim, his usual calm demeanor edged with tension. “They’re with me.”
The officer hesitated for a moment before nodding and stepping aside. Victor waved us forward, and we followed him through the door, the warm scent of wax and cinnamon hitting us like a wall. The shop was cozy, with shelves lined with jars of brightly colored candles, their labels promising scents like “Winter Wonderland” and “Frosted Cranberry.”
Victor led us through the narrow aisles, his steps purposeful, until we reached the back of the shop. Thecheerful glow from the candles barely reached here, and the air felt colder, heavier. And then I saw him.
The body was slumped against a display of pillar candles, his eyes wide and white, the unmistakable look of terror frozen on his face. But something was off. Unlike the other victims, he wasn’t bound or whipped. No birch branches were scattered around him, no signs of Krampus’ usual theatrics.
