When Oliver fell backwards while overenthusiastically singing one of the drinking songs, Gabe and I decided to bid night to our new friends. We walk quietly through the dusting of snow as we drag Oliver back to the hotel.

  “I actually have been enjoying the holiday spirit of this town. I could live with this type of Christmas.”

  “I'm not surprised. You would be the type to turn more festive when a holiday has wicked beasts involved.”

  “Seriously. This type of holiday is beautiful, intentional, handmade. Not over-commercialized or overzealous like my family. Here it seems like you can enjoy the little things. The lights, the good humor, the being together.”

  I am such a Scrooge about the holidays. My family is over the top during the holidays in the worst way. They suddenly become fervent Catholics and at the same time max out their credit cards. When I was younger and my grandmother was still with us, it was different. There were handmade traditions she made us all do together. My cousins begrudgingly joined but I secretly loved it. With her passing, we lost this magic. My dad and I try to recreate her holiday picana every year, but it is never the same. The holidays have become an expensive and stressful time I try to avoid.

  It doesn’t help that now I am the only single one in my extended family. Most family gatherings consist of my aunties trying to hook me up with their friend’s nephew or their neighbor’s godson. I am glad to be living a few hours away from my family now, only coming to town for the day.

  It does make the rest of the holiday season lonely. In the past, I would spend time with my friends. Over the years, they have slowly coupled up and started their own families. For the past few years, it was just Gabe and I. Though I wonder if that will happen this year. The relationship Gabe is in has gotten very serious recently despite him denying it.

  “I’m going to stay outside a bit longer. I just can’t get over these stars.” They are pulsating over the mountains, brighter than I had ever seen. As if the stars knew the truth of the night.

  “So I get to pour this sack of a human into bed by myself?”

  “I talked to the creepy Krampus.”

  “That was for your own good. But yes, maybe it’s best you don’t help this drowning fish get into bed, as he might pull you in right after.”

  “Thanks, bestie.”

  I walk back towards town and sit on a park bench. I drop my head back to take in the night sky. The twinkling of snow and stars fill my vision. I breathe deeply.

  I lost track of time until someone sits down at the other end of the bench. Another Krampus. He looks with intrigue at me. His hair is long and white, coming down perfectly around his horns to his broad shoulders. His almost perfect face smiles coyly at me. He also looks quite drunk.

  “The stars are beautiful this time of year. But you are shining more brightly than any star in the sky.” he said in a thick accent. I roll my eyes loudly at this.

  As he inches closer, I decide his handsome features outweigh his horrible pick up line. The wine and the vibe of the town overtake my small, rational part of my brain. He might not be a bad one-nighter.

  “Hello, I'm Aloysius. And you are?”

  Before I can decide if and how I want to respond, he continues “A dream, I know. What would it take for a small town boy like me to share a drink with a beautiful American woman like you?” I snort. How many tourists did that line work on?

  “What do you think of Krampusnacht? Did it leave you feeling a little bit, what do you call it, horny?” his eyes now were less playful. He moves closer. His eyes now move from my face down over my body.

  I didn't like this look. The initial primitive interest I had in him due to alcohol and hormones evaporates. I start to feel on edge. There is something more than just his cheesy pickups and eerie smile. Something cold and unsettling about him. A metallic cold that I can smell. He had gotten that close to me.

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  As he puts his hand on my leg, I stand up reflexively. I feel uncomfortable now and it only intensifies as I feel a dark cold come up behind me. Like the one I felt in the bar. The white haired man’s face turns from desire to disgust as he is now looking over me. I slowly clench my hands into fists and turn my head, keeping an eye on the man on the bench while also looking at the figure behind me.

  A bolt of fear goes through me as I recognize the dark Krampus I flirted with in the bar. I am between two men that both feel wrong. I take a step back away from both of them. No one moves. On my second step back, I slip on ice I had not noticed before; I fall forward into the dark Krampus. He grabs me ever so gently to break my fall and holds me upright. The coldness he exudes feels warmer in his arms. Like the warmth of freshly fallen snow. He smells like that too. Fresh snow and the spice of pine.

  “I was wondering where you went. I have been looking for you.” I try to catch up with the words he is saying, but I am still caught on the sincerity of his voice. “I wanted to apologize. I’m sorry I upset you in the bar.” I look into those black eyes sparkling of gold. I can’t tell if he is lying or telling the truth but I can see he is trying to help me. Help me with whatever is going on here.

  “I…” Lost for words, I stammer. Unsure which of these two men I should trust. Or my gut instinct, which is to trust neither of them.

  “She’s with you?” snarls the white haired Krampus. “Verfickt nochmal!”

  The gold twinkles in the eyes of the man still holding me. He puts an arm over my shoulder and pulls me close to him. I don't know if it is the wine from earlier or his warmth on the cold winter night, but I sink deeper into his arm.

  Completely ignoring the man who introduced himself as Aloysius, he continues, “Let's walk somewhere more pleasant.”

  He directs me away from the bench.

  I let him.

  Once we are a few paces away from the bench, he whispers softly, “I don't know what kind of person you are, but I do know him. You do not want to take him to bed.” His lips are so close to my ear I can feel his warm breath.

  As we walk away, I hear Aloysius shouting what sounds like a string of profanities in another language. I know enough curses in German to say this sounded different. More ancient.

  He walks me across the square to the main street in town. We wander through the closed market stalls, under the twinkling lights hanging overhead.

  “I presume you are staying at Hotel Bavaria?” With his question, I realize we are on the opposite side of town from the hotel. Seeing my surprise, he calmly continues, “I took you on a little diversion so he couldn't track you down. Until you leave, try to avoid going out so late alone.”

  I try to keep my thoughts focused on what he is saying, but the fatigue and alcohol muddle my mind. Not to mention the lightheadedness I am feeling from being so close, as he holds me tight to his side. The lights, the stars, the warmth of another human’s embrace. The small things I am enjoying in this moment. All I can do is nod in response.

  Time seems slow as we walk quietly through the quaint side streets, starlight overhead. My heart keeps hoping he will stop me outside one of the townhouses we are walking by and invite me inside. I wonder what he is thinking. Why spend his night walking a drunk stranger, a tourist nonetheless, back to their hotel with no ill intent. It does not match the persona he exudes. We turn a corner and I see the hotel ahead. As we get closer, I finally get the warm mess of my brain to string words together.

  “Thank you for… walking me back. I could have handled him myself though.” That's not what I mean to say, but my naturally defensive bite of course appears. It is the exterior I give everyone, so why not the random stranger that smells so beautifully like snow and pines?

  He smirks. Amused by my attempt to appear tough. I probably look like a mess at this hour. Obviously not convincing.

  “I know. I can smell your abilities. Complex and strong. But like any of us, it's hard to use them when you are drunk. As you exemplified by slipping on the ice you created.”

  I am not following what he is saying, not because of the alcohol but as I don’t understand what he is talking about.

  “Unless that was intentional, to slip into my arms.”

  His eyes twinkle with laughter at some joke that I am not privy.

  While I want to return that jest about me slipping into his arms with a sexy comeback, my mind can not get over the comment that I created the ice.

  “I didn't make that ice patch. And why are you so stuck on smelling me?” These guys and smelling. It must be a mountain man thing. Mountain men with horns thing.

  “Are you not…” and he trails off, thinking better of whatever question he was about to say. He seems more perplexed by my statement than I of his.

  “Seriously, everywhere I have been today, you just keep showing up.” Once again not what I want to say but my tough girl act just won’t drop.

  “If I remember correctly, you approached me at the bar.”

  “And you smelled me!”

  His face reveals nothing. Like I was the one with wild accusations. I put my hands over my face and take a breath.

  “I’m sorry. I do not mean to accuse you of anything. It's been a long day. I think I should go. Once again thank you.”

  “It was my honor, Queen of Ice.”