The throbbing in her head obliterated her ability to think. The pain became an excruciating pressure inside her skull that built and built. She moved with care, fearful the smallest movement would upset a delicate balance and burst her eyeballs. Groaning, Victoria pried open one eyelid to discover her body folded into a pretzel–her head bent forward, her knees jammed against her chest.

Cold iron bars crushed her on all sides. The confining cage was the right size to hold a child. She had no room to stand or maneuver. Thanks to her accelerated regeneration, her broken nose had already returned to its normal shape. The persistent headache told her not much time had passed. She healed fast.

As she raised her head, the bony fingers of a cramp dug into her neck. A soft moan tore from her throat. Ignoring the pain, she struggled to rearrange her limbs. Eventually, she achieved a more comfortable position on her knees. She checked her pockets and confirmed her cell phone had been lost in the alley.

Victoria occupied the last cage, formerly empty, in the row of four. About ten feet away, she spotted a workbench laden with sharp implements: knives, pokers, and even a pitch fork. Another steel drum full of ink stood beside the table. She didn't see the krampus.

To one side, a boy with a tear-streaked face watched her. The child stank of urine and feces. Her stomach heaved. She tried to keep all hints of anger from her face, lest she scare him. The boy's eyes were bloodshot, and chunks of dried snot clung to his skin. Even in his unkempt state, he looked like his mother.

"Are you Michael?" Victoria kept her voice soft.

Eyes widening, he stared at her and nodded. "How did you know?"

"Your mother is watching over you." Victoria wedged her fingers into the front pocket of her blue jeans and fished out the fire truck she had taken from the apartment. Twisting her arm, she pushed her hand through the bars and stretched far enough to offer Michael the toy.

After a moment's hesitation, he reached out his hand and took it from her. "The monster is going to kill me next," he said, staring at the truck. "It's already killed two other kids."

In the other two occupied cages, a male and a female watched them with wide, fearful eyes. The little girl looked about five years old. She pointed toward the drums full of black ink and spoke in a trembling voice. "The monster made them drown."

Victoria gagged on rage, hot fury blinding her reason. The children's fear evoked the protective instincts of her she-wolf. Her humanity dangled on a fragile thread. She clung to her self-control with stubborn determination and resisted the reflex to transform into a wolf. The last thing she wanted was to frighten the youngsters more.

Extending his slender arm between the bars, Michael turned his hand over, allowing the toy to fall from his grasp. He looked up to meet her puzzled gaze. "I stole it," he said with tears in his eyes. "I knew stealing was wrong, but I wanted a new toy. My mom’s dead 'cause I'm bad. I deserve to be punished. The monster said so..."

Victoria's chest hurt from the effort of holding back a furious growl. Tears stung her eyes. Panting, she managed a semblance of calm. "It's a liar. Listen to me, Michael. It's a liar. You haven't done anything bad enough to deserve this."

"I'm scared." Lips trembling, he stared at her. Tears spilled down his cheeks.

"It's not going to hurt you. I'm going to kill it. I promise." She gripped the bars of the cage and tested their strength. The iron held, but her struggle sent her prison to rocking crazily on its chain.

Attracted by the sound of their voices, the krampus returned on clomping hooves. Tail lashing, he paused, and his attention centered upon Victoria's swinging cage. His red-rimmed eyes narrowed in clear annoyance. He had a dark aura, black at the center, tinted with dark red about the edges. With mincing steps, he approached her enclosure.

"You cannot escape," the krampus said in a lovely, flute-like voice. "The bars are enchanted."

Victoria scented doubt and desire emanating from him. She locked gazes with him and sneered. "It's easy to act brave while I'm behind these bars. The truth is you're a coward. A child thief who preys on innocents. Come here and see if you can handle someone who's not afraid of you, goat boy."

His eyes narrowed, and his tone grew angry. "Coward, I am not. It is my appointed task to punish wicked children. I am Krampus, the Yuletide Lord. The son of the Goddess Hel, descended of Loki the Trickster."

The krampus reached for her cage and caught the bars on either side. His hands were leathery, the backs covered in thick fur. His pointed nails clinked on the metal. He lowered his head so they faced each other. "My belly aches."

So did hers. A great, yawning emptiness. She craved goat with a ravenous hunger that made her mouth water. The closer he came, the more the beast smelled like prey.

"You eat guilt?" Victoria asked, seeking affirmation of what Jake Barrett had told her. The concept of a monster that fed on emotions struck her as preposterous. Easier said than believed... She stifled an inane giggle.

…thought the skeptical werewolf.

"Sin. Shame. Misery." His giggle embodied pure wickedness. He whispered to her in that honeyed falsetto. "My desire is for sweet children, my usual feast. Your guilt, so delicious, calls to me."

"You want me? Come and get me." Victoria beckoned with a provocative come-hither smile that disguised her disgust. She summoned her magic, allowing it to spill across her skin and spread, a sparking golden glow. As Freya's priestess, she understood passion. The krampus craved guilt, so she offered hers readily. She wallowed in the suffocating mire, offering up her shame and pain over Daniel's death as a sumptuous meal.

The krampus's pupils dilated. His mouth gaped, and he paused. "Do not know what you are. Stench like wet dog."

His hesitation worried her. She needed him to open the cage. Stifling panic, she focused on the awful self-recrimination she harbored in her heart. "Does it matter what I am?" she asked in a sultry voice. "Can't you sense how the guilt eats at me?"

"Yesss..." he hissed. A thick ruby-red tongue slid past his lips and flicked against the iron bars. Arousal turned his scent pungent. "I shall suck your soul, drain you dry. You shall sustain me for a long, long time."

With clumsy eagerness, he fumbled with the lock of her cage. It took him three tries to work the elaborate mechanism. The doors swung on concealed hinges and parted wide to either side. At last, she understood how her captor had gotten her into the confined space in the first place.

"I'm so tempting. Irresistible," she teased. Muscles rippled beneath her skin, her wolf straining to burst free of the confines of her human skin.

" Yesss..." His rough hands closed on her forearms. Sulfuric breath filled her nostrils, and she gagged, tasting bile in the back of her throat. In counterpoint to her nausea, her stomach growled. An immense aching emptiness in her sides.

His beaked nose thrust into her face, and she resisted the urge to bite off the bulbous tip. With an effort, Victoria stayed passive while he dragged her from the kennel. The children's whimpers and sobs were hardest to ignore. She had to make sure she was safely clear of the young ones before she acted.

"Show me how your lover died." With her dangling from his grasp, the krampus straightened to his full height.

Shocked, she gasped. "How the hell do you know–"

"I know all about your sins," he said, cackling.

Their eyes locked, and a crude psychic tendril invaded her mind, burrowing deep, seeking her guilt. Caught off-guard, Victoria reeled under the unexpected assault. The beast before her vanished, and Daniel took his place. Reality fractured, blurred at the edges, and reformed.

Early December. She and Daniel had cleared out a nest of vampires from an abandoned gas station in the desert outside Phoenix. The building was little more than four walls supporting a rickety roof. All the windows were shattered. Broken fragments of glass littered the dirty floors. Looters had long ago taken anything worth having.

Daniel insisted on making a final sweep of the area. The prospect of spending more time with him pleased her, so she humored him.

"It's high noon. All of the vamps are gonna be in the ground. What exactly are you expecting to find?" Wielding a machete, Victoria assumed the lead. Broken glass crunched beneath her athletic shoes as she inspected rows of toppled shelving.

"You can never be too careful." Daniel offered her a cheeky grin. Then he changed the subject. "I have two weeks of vacation coming up over Christmas and the New Year..."

She stopped and swiveled to face him. His edgy stance and the charged streaks of aggression in his aura hinted that he was up to something. Her tension fed on his. "Do you have big plans?"

His even teeth slashed in a confident smile. "Cabo San Lucas, baby. Two weeks of sun and sand."

Her heart skipped. It took all her self-control not to squeal or jump up and down in excitement. She arched her brow. "You can have sun and sand in Arizona."

He grinned. "And surf."

She huffed. He had her there.

His chocolate brown eyes pinned her with determined intensity, stealing her breath. "Come with me."

Unaccountably, she flushed and immediately felt ridiculous. They'd been lovers for almost a year. The man shouldn't be capable of reducing her to a stammering school girl. He might be a renowned hunter, but she was the daughter of Alpha wolves.

"I can't." She replied more brusquely than she liked and turned away to conceal her turmoil. More than anything, she wanted to cast off her responsibilities and run away with him. But she had obligations...

"Victoria." Daniel caught her wrist.

Behind her, a whip-like crack split the air. Daniel gurgled.

Jolted, Victoria spun. Her horrified mind registered the expression of absolute shock on Daniel's face. A serpentine length of muscle covered in barbs coiled about his throat, the hooks digging into his soft flesh. Blood flowed in a steady stream from his torn jugular.

He used both hands to pry the thing from his throat, and the bleeding sped. Bright red. Frantic, she reached for him, summoning her healing magic, but it was too little and too late to do any good.

In a matter of seconds, Daniel died in her arms. Wicked laughter danced around her, and she registered the macabre visage of a vampire. With a distant shock, she realized the barbed tentacle of flesh that had killed her lover was the thing's tongue.

A twisted alien thought filled her mind. His death is your fault.

"Yes." Victoria blinked back tears. She vividly recalled that monster's fucking tongue and how desperately she wished for a do-over. Given the opportunity, she would rip it out by the root.

The devil in her mind giggled. You failed to protect him.

Her wolf rumbled in anger. Victoria closed her eyes and then opened them again. The world around her flickered, and the krampus's beastly visage returned.

"Show me his death again." A thick ruby tongue snaked from the corner of his mouth and approached her face with a sinuous motion. The tip slapped against her cheek and licked toward her mouth. A trail of hot saliva trickled down her face.

A furious growl rumbled deep in her throat. She jerked her head to the side and allowed her wolf its freedom. The transformation burst over her with excruciating swiftness. Stretching her skin taut, the bones of her face distended and pushed into an elongated muzzle.

Snapping jaws, glistening canines.

In a blink, she caught the krampus's tongue between her teeth and bit clean through the offending appendage. Hot blood filled her mouth, and she swallowed the chunk of flesh whole. The meal hit her empty stomach as welcome warmth. Her sides clenched. She craved more.

Howling in agony, the krampus thrust her away. His bleeding tongue whipped back into his mouth, and his hand flew to cover the injury. She clung, digging her claws deep into his muscular arms and leaving bloody rents. Her jaws closed on his shoulder. He tasted like goat too. Salivating, she ripped another chunk of meat free and swallowed it whole. The arm meat was too sinewy, but she didn't mind. Goodness hit her stomach. Her first decent meal in a week.

She could acquire a taste for goat meat.

Backing away, he dragged her across the room. Victoria continued her transformation into a wolf, acquiring both height and weight. Bones broke and reformed. Her entire body underwent painful contortions as her torso and limbs lengthened and thickened. Her clothing stretched and then split. Her feet tore through her shoes. The remnants of fabric fell away, leaving her covered in snow-white fur.

In their cages, the children shrieked and sobbed in terror. She regretted frightening them further, but it couldn't be helped. She halted the change midway. Her bipedal form resembled the classic movie wolfman. The shape allowed her to use her wolf's strength and natural weaponry. She also retained the use of her hands and rudimentary speech.

The krampus stared at her in open astonishment. "What are you?"

Victoria smiled, displaying all her glistening white teeth. Saliva dripped from the tips. "The big bad wolf, come to gobble you up, Billy Goat Gruff."

A girl's scream rent the air. Her instincts to protect the youngsters kicked in, and she reflexively turned toward the sound. The fight had brought them perilously close to the cages, putting the children in peril. Bracing, she tugged on the devil and attempted to drag him away from the cages. He outweighed her by a lot, so she only moved him a few feet.

Bellowing, the krampus snarled and raked her, sharp nails gouging her arm. Despite her transformation, he was several feet taller than her. Taking advantage of the difference, he yanked her off her feet. He swung her around and slammed her into the closest wall.

Her side took the brunt of the brutal impact. Ribs snapped. The searing pain weakened her grip enough to allow the krampus to rip free. Grasping her leg, he hefted her overhead and spun her before letting go. Her shoulders and upper back collided with a wall of shelves. Victoria crashed to the floor amidst falling boxes and containers and lay in a stunned heap. A fog of pain enveloped her head.

A hoof rang on concrete. It struck once. Twice.

Victoria twisted and looked up just as the krampus lowered his head, preparing to charge. Those wicked-looking horns aimed straight at her. A startled oh-shit yelp escaped her. Adrenaline surging, she ignored her body's pained protest and rolled upright. Crouched on all fours, she readied to dodge.

His breath heaved with the power of a train engine, and the krampus charged straight at her. His hooves clattered like thunder, reverberating in the small room. Victoria waited until the last possible second and then stepped aside with a deft twist.

As she darted past, Victoria delivered a quick bite to his hindquarters. She aimed for his hamstrings, hoping to cripple him. She missed the vital tendons. Instead, her mouth closed on his hock and ripped a hunk free. Her mouth filled with raw flesh and hot blood. The thigh meat was tastier than his arms, rich but gamey. She swallowed the mouthful in a single gulp and went back for another bite, only to discover he'd already passed her. Her jaws closed on empty air.

Running at full speed, the krampus slammed into the same wall she had struck a minute before. The remaining intact shelves came crashing down. Remarkably, he remained upright, although the collision clearly disoriented him.

A burst of excited snarls and barks escaped her throat. Victoria leapt straight up and landed upon the devil's trunk. Her snapping jaws drove toward his throat. While he rose, she secured a bite hold and sank her teeth into the heavily-muscled flesh about his jugular. She pressed her body against his chest. Determined to hang on, she wrapped her limbs about his barrel torso and dug into his back with her claws.

The krampus roared and charged into another set of shelves. More debris rained about them. Clinging close, she nimbly avoided another blow. His failure to dislodge her added fervor to his escape attempts. They ran and twisted, colliding with pallets and knocking over a drum. Black fluid spilled everywhere, coating the floor. The moans and sobs of the imprisoned children edged her awareness. The entire time, her jaws remained locked on his throat, constricting his air supply. Inevitably, strangulation would weaken him enough so she could deal the death blow.

Panting for breath, the krampus ground to a halt and collapsed onto his knees. Victoria’s feet finally touched the ground again. In a final act of desperation, he turned his great strength against her. His wickedly sharp nails raked her back. Her head swam with pain, and red clouded her vision.

The krampus sought softer flesh and positioned his hands just below her ribcage. He dug in with his nails, attempting to disembowel her. In self-defense, Victoria loosened her hold on his chest and blocked him with her elbows. She braced in anticipation of the crippling pain of a gut injury. Her jaws remained locked on his throat. She hung on with pit bull determination.

She'd sooner die than let go.