Page 22 of Nice

Caitlin's fingers flutter up and down my chest as she points out various shops and restaurants. I try to match her enthusiasm, but I can only feign my excitement. She doesn't seem to notice it's fake, so I let her keep believing all is well between The North Pole and me. Off in the distance, Northport rises high into the night.

All the windows are ablaze with twinkling lights. The impressive edifice doubled in size at least since Kris took over: yet another testament to the arrogance of the North Pole King. The fact that Kringle let him, even while he was still alive, galls me. Kris just couldn't wait to erase everything he could about that place. About us. Noting the various moving shadows within the windows, I grimace.

At least I didn't make the trip for nothing. With that many figures bustling about, he must be home. Sighing, I shift Caitlin a little bit higher in my arms and head towards our destination. Poor Caitlin waves at all the people passing by, a huge grin on her face, but they sneer and give both of us a wide berth.

Frowning, she looks up at me, her brows furrowed. "Am I not allowed to be here?"

"What makes you ask that, princess?" The endearment slips past my lips before I can stop it. Scowling, I turn away from her questing gaze. If it were in my power, I'd drag every NPP citizen out of their homes and make them beg on their knees for her favor and grace. I snarl as another family shuffles their child away from us. I thought they could look past their wariness and hatred of me to bestow a modicum of kindness on her, but apparently not.

She glances about before granting a dazzling smile on an undeserving elf family. As with all the others, they scurry away without a backwards glance.

"No one seems to want me here. Are humans not allowed?"

After a few more futile waves, her hand droops down along with her smile. Anger fills my gut as I clutch her close. Sadness is etched in every defeated line of her face. My beast throws its head back and howls. It's not her fault she's with me. She doesn't realize that they probably don't even see her. They're all too afraid of the big, bad Krampus. The only thing saving them at this moment is the fact that she's just a fleeting moment in my life, and I don't want to traumatize her any further than I already have.

"It's not you baby," I murmur, nuzzling at the side of her head. She sighs and leans into my touch but remains silent.

By the time we reach Northpoint, my anger is at a boiling point. Long gone is the excited human wriggling in my arms. Instead, Caitlin is despondent and pensive. I will rip everyone here limb from limb, but first, I need to confront the big man himself. Elation flows through me with each step I take. It's one step closer finally bringing this chapter to a close. I need this fight. My beast needs this fight.

Without even bothering to knock, I lower Caitlin to the floor and barge right in, dragging her in tow. Servant elves race about, warning their master no doubt. I stalk through the main hall, and towards Kris's study. This close to dinner, that's probably where he'll be. Caitlin drags behind, her eyes wide and mouth agape. I've visited Northpoint enough that nothing shocks me. I've come to ignore the Christmas that's regurgitated on every available surface. However, Caitlin can't seem to figure out what she wants to look at first.

A sort of awe illuminates her face as she bounces from one thing to the next. Fuck. Of course she'd be enamored with Christmas. It's just one more way that I'm inadequate. Numbness pervades my body as I watch her bounce about in glee. The sooner I can get to the bottom of this, the sooner I can go back to my life and not have to worry about Kris or Christmas again. For another year at least. Though I'm loathed to break her away, I grasp her hand and drag her towards the study. I don't want to risk running into the shifter squad, not when I have violence on my brain.

Crashing through the study door, I take in the scene. Kris is sitting in his leather chair by a roaring fire, eggnog in hand. He doesn't even look up from his book when we enter. Instead, he slowly licks his index finger and turns the page.

"Good evening cousin. To what do we owe this barging in, and so close to dinnertime?"

I look behind me to watch Caitlin's face as realization finally dawns on her. Eyes wide, she looks between Kris and I before letting her mouth fall open. Growling, I grab her arm and thrust her in front of me. "What the fuck did you do Kris?"

"I have no earthly idea what you're -." His words seize up as he finally looks up and sees Caitlin. "Angelica?" Kris's face pales even more than it already is as he stares at the apparition in front of him. "What?" In a slow sweep, his eyes finally meet mine.

"As if you don't know?" None too gently, I grab her arm again and place her behind me.

Chapter Eight: Caitlin

Asmon's massive back does nothing to shield me from Kris's heated gaze. I peak around his shoulder to take in the gentleman sitting there. Is that really Santa? It must be. That is, if I still believe what's been going on. It only makes logical sense. A sense of awe fills me as I watch him rise from his chair. Though he makes a move to get closer to me, Asmon quickly thwarts him with a shift of his hips.

"I won't ask again," he growls, his body vibrating violence.

"I haven't answered because you've yet to explain why you and this woman are in my house."

Kris's voice is calm and steady, but there's a thin edge to it. My palms grow damp as the air crackles with the tension pouring between the two. I ease back a few steps before Kris's eyes snap over to me.

"Do not move an inch."

Asmon steps forward, practically toe to toe with him. "You don't get to order her around. Now answer me. What did you do to the lists?"

His gaze flicks back over me before his lips twist up in a lascivious grin. "I checked them as I always do this time of year." He pulls his gaze away and looks back up at Asmon. "Why? Not naughty enough? Perhaps I can change that."

A shudder of revulsion wracks my body. I've grown up with stories of Santa until I finally reached the age where I stopped believing. The man in front of me looks nothing like the pudgy bearer of toys. Instead, Kris looks like he stepped out of a fashion magazine. His red silk pajamas look absolutely sumptuous and decadent. His strong jaw and twinkle to his ice-blue eyes is sure to make other women swoon, but not me. Unease rolls down my spine as he slowly looks me up and down. As hot as he is physically, it's still like getting hit on by grandpa.

Growling, Asmon shoves Kris back towards his chair. "She's not naughty at all you idiot. She's nice. You've fucked up the lists."

A gasp escapes my mouth. Can he curse in front of Santa? I glance at him, surprised to see the amount of anger and hatred marring his face. Maybe Santa isn't the good guy I was raised to believe?

"The fudge I did?" he spats back. "I did my job. Just because you made a piss-poor choice." He glances over at me, lips tilted up in a half-assed apology "Not that you're piss-poor my dear.” Looking back to Asmon,” You can't come crying to me because of buyer's remorse."

"You're not understanding me. She's not naughty. The worst she did was minor vandalism and lying when she was younger."