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 and 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 am glad I found you.” I try to catch up with the words he is saying but am still caught on the rumble and 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 to trust neither of them.

“She’s with you?” snarls the white haired Krampus. “She just got into town. There is no way.”

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 white haired one 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 and you don't 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 where the parade came through earlier tonight. We wander through the closed market stalls, under the twinkling lights hanging overhead.

Stolen story; please report.

“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 to his body 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. 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 in on. These guys and smelling. It must be a mountain man thing. Mountain men with horns thing.

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 made the ice.

“I didn't make that ice patch. And why are you so stuck on smelling me?”

“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.”