What's A Girl Gotta Do To Get On The Naughty List?

Chapter 1

“Are you going to get into the sack willingly or do I need to start being less polite?” The demon in the doorway was a monstrous thing indeed. Long arcing horns brushed against the popcorn ceiling I used to fantasize about scraping smooth. He stepped further inside, his hooves clacked against the wood floor as they left the cushion of the snowman themed welcome mat I’d picked out only a month ago. He shrugged off the red sack he carried and opened it wide, gesturing for me to get in.

My fist squeezed around the box cutter I hid behind my back, unsure if I’d have to use it on him or throw it out the window to hide the evidence. I bit the inside of my cheek. This was supposed to be an easy job. Louis and She Who Shall Not Be Named should have been having Christmas Eve dinner at my parents. Did they know what I was planning and hire one of their friends to act as security? Dammit, dammit, dammit!

No, I can’t falter here. Not so close to the finish line. I steeled my nerves and straightened my back. Show no fear. “This is you being polite? Last I checked, strangers don’t break into homes and order their occupants to get in sacks.”

The demon quirked an eyebrow. “Now there’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Um, excuse you, this is my house.”

“Oh is it now?”

“Yes, it is.” Or at least, it should be. If there was any justice in the world.

“Mmhmm. Is that why you removed the doorknob?” he gestured pointedly to the knob and screwdriver I’d haphazardly dropped in the entryway.

Fuck. He was on to me, but I wouldn’t give up. I spent my days arguing with old men in board meetings. If I could convince them to take a chance on hiring our purple-haired, fishnet-wearing social media manager, I could convince this dickhead in an off-brand Halloween costume that I was still well within my rights to be here. There wasn’t a situation alive I couldn’t gaslight, gatekeep or girlboss my way out of. “Clearly, I’m just replacing the locks.”

He sighed, green eyes closing with a disappointed shake of his head. “Daphne, my naughty list is especially long this year. Spare me the theatrics and I might yet show leniency during your punishment.”

“Uh, punishment? There will be no punishment of any kind, you weirdo. Just who do you think you are?”

The monster stared, unamused. “The Easter Bunny. Now get in the sack.”

I squinted at him, trying to find where the mask ended. Yet the gray fur covering his body looked seamless. There must have been some kind of zipper on the back. “Kalvin, is that you?”

“I don’t know who this Kalvin is, but I assure you, I am not him.”

“Yeah, I’m not buying it.” Of all of Louis’s friends, Kalvin was the one most likely to agree to whatever stupid stunt this was. The enormous frame matched as well. Though, despite the man being built like a quarterback, I didn’t remember him being so tall. Looking down, I noticed a pair of hooves where his feet should have been. Ah, that explained the extra height. It was a rather convincing costume, I’ll give him that. Still, Louis and The Treacherous One wouldn’t get rid of me that easily.

I stalked over to him, rose to my tippy-toes and yanked on his horn. When the mask didn’t come off, I gripped the other and gave them both a yank. “Damn, this thing is on tight. Did you glue it to your head or something?”

He reached up and grabbed my wrist to still me. “If you mean to extend your punishment, little one, it’s working.”

Hmm, the straightforward approach wasn’t working. Louis could come home at any minute and I still needed to tidy up for my plan to work. Time to switch gears. “Little one?” I asked, looking him up and down. “I could get used to a name like that.” When he didn’t push me away, I trailed my fingers along his forearm and flashed what I hoped to god was a seductive smile. “Tell you what, how about I put that lock back, you slip out of this costume and the two of us get out of here and grab a bite? Home projects really work up a girl’s appetite.”

“And the honeyed words of a liar often stoke mine. Alas, your crimes only just placed you on the naughty list.” The smell of crisp peppermint and fresh-cut evergreen flitted past my senses as he leaned down and drew in a breath. I shivered and stepped away, only to feel the press of his large hand on the small off my back. The sharp tips of his claws pricked through the fabric of my sweater, sending a thrill down my spine. “Rest assured, dear one, should you decide to ignore the lesson I teach you tonight, I’ll return next Christmas Eve and devour you entirely.”

He drew his face closer still and I gasped when his hot tongue ran along my neck. “You have the taste of something truly devious about you. Perhaps a year is too long.” He leaned back to meet my gaze. The sharp sting of his claw pressed against my lower lip. “Tell me Daphne Cordova, does your mischief only extend to petty vengeance or could I persuade you to do something more depraved?”

I don’t remember Kalvin having a voice capable of rendering women into puddles, but here we are. I expected the frat bro turned respectablish accountant to fall at the first fluttered lashes I sent his way. Louis was a jealous man and always kept my hangouts with his friends brief. Maybe he just didn’t want me to know about this side of his best friend. Not that it mattered. Fucking one of his best friends hadn’t been a part of my master revenge scheme, but the further he pulled me against him, the more brilliant the idea looked.

The bastard fucked my sister after all.

“You make me sound like some hardened criminal.” My hands slid around his neck as I leaned into him, boldly pushing my chest against the red fabric of his coat. I felt around the base of his neck for the zipper, then dipped lower when I found none.

“Hardened, no,” he chuckled. “Just naughty enough.” Pale green eyes searched my own as the tips of black claws traced the curve of my spine. “Tell me, little one, are you ready for your punishment? Or are you still trying to find my zipper?”

My hands froze. Sweat beaded along my neck as I noticed just how real his costume seemed to be. I pushed away from him, nearly toppling over when the back of my knees hit the coffee table. “You’re not Kalvin, are you?”

The beast shook his head.

“Then who?”

He smiled, showing off rows of sharp teeth. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m the Easter Bunny.”

“This isn’t funny anymore,” I spat. “Who are you? What the hell is going on?!”

His eyes closed on an inhale, savoring the air like it was the last breath he’d ever take. “Fear,” he purred. “Such fair perfume. Now that I have your attention,” he said, sweeping into a bow. “I am the scrape of branches at the window when your guilt begins to fester, the warning mother’s whisper to mischievous children and the dark shadow of Old St. Nick.” With a lift of his head he said, “You may call me Krampus and you, dear Daphne, are on my naughty list.”

All I could say was, “Oh.” My hands clapped together as I rocked back on my feet. Plan, what’s the plan? Remember our motto, gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss! “Look, Kramps. Can I call you Kramps?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“You’re right,” I said, waving a hand. “That was…that was terrible. Anyway, there must be some kind of mistake with your list, you see. I have committed no crimes. And on the off chance I did, which I didn’t, there’s not a damn chance it was anything bad enough to warrant the dark shadow of Old St. Nick to pay me a visit.”

I shuffled around the coffee table, slowly backing my way out of the living room. Each click of his hooves was another icicle lodged in my chest. My foot stepped on the loose floorboard that I’d never been able to convince my Nana to fix. Its squeak slightly dimmed by the cushion of shrimp I’d stashed underneath. And despite the fact that some supernatural hellbeast was looming over me, despite the fact that I knew I was being fucking crazy, I still raised my knee high and stomped again and again on that board to make damn sure the harbingers of my malice didn’t notice the change in sound before the scent of their new love nest started to rot.

“Why don’t we review the charges then?” he asked, ignoring my stomping fit.

“By all means.”

He pulled back his coat and retrieved a scroll. “Daphne Cordova, the charges against you are as follows: stealing your sister’s cat,”

“She’s my cat.”

He fixed me with a look and I shut my mouth. “You are also accused of keying your ex-fiancé ’s car,”

“Allegedly,” I snapped. “Those charges were dismissed.”

“Which brings me to your next charge: obstruction of justice.”

I shrugged. “I’ve no idea what you mean.”

Green eyes peered at me from above his scroll. “You slept with the judge in order to have the case dismissed.”

“No, I slept with the judge because he looked like Winston Duke. Last time I checked, sexiness wasn’t a crime.”

“It is when it hampers the judicial system.”

“Well, Louis slept with my sister!”

“Did it cause a judge to throw out a case? No? Moving on. Next, we have vandalism and, of course, breaking and entering.” He looked pointedly at the doorknob on the floor. Then he reached for the wicker basket on his back and pulled out a gnarled birch branch.