by Michele Hauf
Mmm, she was hot and soft and when she put her hands on his knees to balance, he wished she’d landed that touch a little higher up. There, where his erection was teasing rigidity. It had been a while since he’d been with a woman. And truly, after the past few months of endless diapers and spit-up, he had forgotten how good it could be to kiss one. And touch her. And mmm, just to inhale her.
He coaxed her forward by sliding his hand over her hip, and she followed directions and leaned into him without breaking their connection. Yep, everything was hard now. Not going to be easy getting through this night.
Her fingers clutched his shirt and the connection zinged his every nerve ending, sending scintillating tingles all over his skin. It was as if together they created a sort of sensual electricity. And he couldn’t get enough of her mouth, her tongue, her sighs.
Pressing a hand against her back, he coaxed her forward again and bowed to keep the kiss. Her moan said everything he was feeling: yes, yes and all the yeses in the world. This tiny witch felt so right in his arms; he had to thank the gods for putting him in her backyard even if it had been a strange night that had scared the hell out of him.
A buzzer dinged, startling them to part their lips, and Mireio laughed. “Supper’s done!” She kissed him quick, then wiped her finger alongside his mouth. “Got a little lipstick on you there.” She tilted her head at him. “Can I have a few more of those awesome kisses for dessert?”
“You can have as many as you like.”
Another ding drew her away from him, and Lars adjusted his position and winced as he tried to adjust his hard-on in his tightened jeans.
* * *
“A water witch, eh?”
Mireio dished up another square of zucchini parmesan onto Lars’s plate and then refilled his water goblet. She’d been telling him how she hadn’t chosen the art of water magic but that it had chosen her.
“My grandmother could never get me out of the tub or the swimming pool. I used to tease her that I could make the water do things, so when she challenged me, I gave it a try. I cast my first water globe when I was ten.” She held her hands apart but curved toward one another as if to hold a ball. “Then I threw it at my granny, soaking her. I had to clean the bathroom for a month after that.”
Lars’s laughter filled the quiet kitchen. Beside him on the counter, Peanut, asleep in his baby carrier, stirred but didn’t wake.
She put a finger to her lips to shush them both. “So anyway, I mastered water magic by the time I was twenty. And that led to brewing beer. I like to change and control water. Add a few grains and some hops? Voilà!”
“So it’s an innate thing with you witches? You’re born able to do magic?”
“Some of it. As a baby I could swim underwater just like a seal. And I had a habit of curdling the milk before my mother could get it in the bottle. Or so I was told. But some magics we have to study and learn, and maybe never master. I’m trying to learn the healing arts. It should be easy for me. The body is made up of so much water, but I have real trouble invoking a healing spell.”
“You’ll master it. I know you will. You’re so talented. And beautiful.”
“You compliment me too much.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. I’ve got the Scandinavian gene, you see. We don’t know how to take compliments.”
“Uff da, you don’t say?” he said with his best Minnesotan accent.
Mireio laughed. “Ya sure, you betcha. You’ve got the accent too!”
“Born and raised in Minnesota and damn proud to eat the lutefisk and lefse.” He finished the food and pushed his plate forward. “I am stuffed. And relaxed.”
She nodded toward his crotch. “I noticed earlier when we were kissing you were anything but relaxed.”
He blushed.
“Oh, you’re too cute. I’m going to keep you for a while. The baby too.”
“Thanks?”
She stood up on the stool’s bars and leaned over to kiss him quickly.
Peanut stirred in his carrier. “I should probably head out,” Lars said. “I don’t have any milk with me. Unless you can use your magic to turn water into milk?”
“Not quite that talented. And I’d hate to give the baby a tummy ache if something went wrong.”
Lars packed up the baby’s things and retrieved the book from the living room. Mireio walked with the two of them out to the truck parked in her driveway. After Peanut was fastened in and secured, Lars jumped back out and stood before her.
She waved at the baby and blew him a kiss. “See you later, Charlie!”
“Charlie?” He leaned against the truck door and gave her the eye.
“Yeah, thought I’d try out the name on him. You don’t like it?”
He shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll have to give it some thought.”
“I’ve got a few more ideas rolling around in my brain. But I’ll save them for another time. Give you a little time to try that one on a bit. So do I get to see you tomorrow? Uh, I have an appointment in the evening, but then...”
“What kind of appointment?”
“The one with the witch who hunts up vampires.”
“Ah. Do you want me to go along with you?”
“Would you? She lives in Minneapolis. I know her but not well. I feel sort of weird about the whole thing...”
“I’ll go along. For uh...” His gaze wandered over her head and took in the front of her house. The pause grew beyond a few seconds.
Mireio blinked, waiting for him to finish his thought. Did he do that often? Forget what he was talking about? He’d done it once before when she’d first met him.
“Wait,” he said, focusing back on her. “What were we talking about?”
Strange. But she didn’t want to draw attention to it. “Tomorrow night. Raven Crosse’s place?”
“Oh, right! I can get Sunday to babysit tomorrow night. We’ll stop by the witch’s place, then do something after?”
“There’s a new action movie I’d really like to see.”
“I haven’t been inside a movie theater in years. And action? Sounds like a plan.”
He bent to kiss her and she wrapped her arms about his neck and bounced as she tried to get closer to him. So Lars lifted her by the hips and she wrapped her legs around his waist. That fit them together perfectly and made for a nice hold.
After a couple kisses he said, “You’re so tiny.”
“And you’re like a basketball player. But I like a big strong alpha man.”
Inside the cab Peanut giggled. Both looked to the baby, then back to each other and laughed.
“I think that’s a hint,” he said. “Time to stop kissing the girl and get the tyke home for his bedtime bottle. What time do you want me to stop by tomorrow?”
“Six!”
He kissed her again, quickly, then set her down and climbed into the truck. With a wave and a wink, he backed out and drove away.
And Mireio sighed one of those satisfied sighs that a girl reserved only for those moments she wanted to cherish. If she wasn’t careful, she could fall in love. And she’d never been the queen of careful. Spontaneous, wild and free were her best attributes.
But what was wrong with the guy forgetting things midsentence? Hmm... Probably she had better not worry about it. She had a tendency to worry beyond the problem. There was no problem. Nope, none at all.
She had found herself a handsome werewolf. And a baby. Who would have thought?
Chapter 7
Raven Crosse lived in a downtown Minneapolis loft along with her husband of many decades, Nikolaus Drake. As a phoenix vampire, Nikolaus had survived a witch’s blood attack (when witch’s blood was once poisonous to vampires; that had been decades ago) and lived to tell the tale. The f
act that it had been Raven’s blood that had nearly killed him? That was a long story.
The witch, who had formerly been a vampire hunter, invited Mireio across the threshold, and drew her gaze up the long tall drink of werewolf who walked in behind her.
Only a little taller than Mireio, Raven scratched the back of her neck below the tight black ponytail and then pointed to Lars. “Who’s he? I thought it was just going to be you?”
“Lars Gunderson.” He offered his hand to shake, but Raven sneered at it. “I’m here for moral support.”
Raven glanced to Mireio. “You’re kidding me. If you need moral support, sweetheart, you’re not ready for this.”
“I’m ready. I would have come alone, but he offered, and...” Mireio shrugged. It was good to have him with her. She wasn’t intimidated by a witch who drove a street chopper and could slay vampires with a single shot, but well, okay she was a little. “He’s my partner. In this endeavor.”
Again Raven drew a long discerning gaze down Lars. Not impressed at all. Then she shoved her hands in her front jeans pockets and nodded. “Fine. But this is between me and Malory, you got that, wolf? No talking.”
Lars zipped his fingers across his lips and closed the door behind him. Raven led them to the long stretch of kitchen counter and gestured they sit on the stools.
“Nikolaus is out of town. I don’t do this when he’s around,” she said as she pulled a black file folder out from a drawer and slapped it on the counter before Mireio. She placed her palm over the folder and leaned in. “You got the cash?”
“Oh, yes.” Mireio opened her fish purse and pulled out the envelope that was an inch thick and filled with twenty-dollar bills. “All there. You can count it if you want.”
Raven shoved the envelope in the drawer and closed it. She pushed the file toward Mireio, then stepped back with arms crossed over her chest, eyeing Lars cautiously.
Inside the file was a single sheet of paper with two color photos printed alongside the details. Neither photo showed a clear face shot of the man. “There’s no name?” Mireio asked.
“Names are not important, and intrusively personal. You get a name and you’ll never be able to go through with it. The pictures and the details of that vamp’s MO should be more than enough to ensure you get the right guy. He’s a monster. Feeds in a very contained area in north Minneapolis, so finding him shouldn’t be a problem. There have been unexplained deaths in that neighborhood over the last two months. It’s his doing, I know it.”
“How can you know that?” Lars asked.
Raven tilted a sneer at the wolf, and both Lars and Mireio heard the unspoken, I told you not to speak, wolf.
Lars cleared his throat. “I’m sure you know, being a vampire hunter and all.”
“Former,” Raven corrected. “You ever play blood games with vamps, wolf?”
“No. That’s barbaric.”
Raven lifted her chin, still assessing Lars. “You’re from the Northern Pack. Amandus Masterson used to lead the pack.”
“He’s long dead.”
The witch sniffed. Masterson had engaged his pack in blood games that had tortured vampires mercilessly. It was likely a sticking point for a witch married to a vampire.
Trying to cut the tension, Mireio tapped the information sheet. “He’s mostly out after midnight?”
“Yes, all the information you need is right there. Now, did you need anything else? You got the immortality spell?”
“Yes. My friend is still working on getting the dragon’s exudation. Few sell it nowadays.”
“Very necessary to make the blood go down smoothly,” Raven said. “Trust me. I’ve done this six times. Did it one time without the exudation. Nearly fucking gagged myself to death.”
Mireio swallowed. Drinking the blood from a vampire’s heart was not tops on her list of things to do. But if those few moments of suffering would give her another century of life, then she could rally. As well, if it would give her the revenge she sought against her mother’s murderer, then she was all in. But that detail was not something she intended to tell Lars.
“You going to be her wingman?” Raven asked Lars.
They hadn’t discussed him helping her, but when Mireio started to answer, Lars draped an arm across her shoulders. “Yep.”
“Good. Tiny witch like you will need someone strong to crack open the vampire’s chest and pull out the heart.”
Mireio gulped down a gag, but kept a stoic expression as she nodded in agreement.
“So we’re good,” Raven said. “Business is complete. You two will be on your merry way. I’d love to say it’s been peachy, wolf, but I’m still not sure I like you. You trust him?” she asked Mireio as she collected the file folder and walked to the door.
“I do.” But she was still thinking about watching a werewolf crack open a vampire’s chest and then handing her a bloody heart. That was the stuff of nightmares. And man, did she have nightmares. “I think we should be going, then. Thanks!” And she shot out the door, not caring whether Lars followed.
Scrambling down two flights and out to the street, Mireio rushed along the side of the building and turned the corner. Catching a palm on the rough brick wall she bent forward and exhaled forcefully.
A gentle hand pulled away the hair from the side of her face. “You okay?”
She nodded. “It was really stuffy in there, don’t you think?”
“Uh...yes, I think it was. Everything is going to be okay, Mireio. I’ll be there to help you with this. I promise.”
“I didn’t even ask you. I’m sorry—she just assumed...”
“No need to ask. I’m volunteering. There’s no way a tiny witch like you can accomplish...well, you know. Will you let me help you?”
Righting, she dropped her shoulders against the wall and looked up at him briefly, then away. She was still shaken from having reality so blatantly laid out for her like that. No wonder her mother had died. She must have faltered in that moment when she’d needed to be strong. She hadn’t taken anyone along with her. Mireio knew because she had followed her and had witnessed the whole terrible thing.
“Do you think I can do this if I can’t even listen to the details?” she asked. “I mean, what will I do when faced with having to consume the blood from a vampire’s heart? I am so not that chick from Game of Thrones.”
“Yeah? You don’t have a hoard of dragons to protect either. But you do seem to have a fear that can only be abated by meeting this challenge. And while I’m still getting to know you, I feel confident that when the challenge presents itself, you’ll do fine.”
He held out his hand and she clasped it as if it were a life preserver tossed into the wild and wicked waves. “Thank you for having faith in me. I need that boost of confidence. And, obviously, a big strong wolf to do the dirty work. Oh.” She bent again, clutching her palms on her knees.
“I was thinking we could drive through north Minneapolis, take a look around,” Lars said. “But maybe we should call it a night?”
She shook her head. The last thing she wanted to do was go vampire hunting. But she didn’t want this night to end so quickly either. Especially not when Lars had hired a babysitter. “No, I’m good. Just needed to breathe in the air.”
“We passed a movie theater on the way here.” He clasped her hand and bent to speak softly. “What say you and I go sit in the dark, drink lots of sugary pop and then make out during the boring parts.”
She squeezed his hand. “Here’s wishing for a lot of boring parts.”
* * *
Mireio couldn’t recall a time when she’d made out in a movie theater. They were the only two in the small theater. The red velvet seats creaked and smelled stale. The screen had a tear on the right side that tended to give actors scars in inappropriate places. And the action they’d
come for had lasted all of thirty-seven seconds. Now the characters were trying to find themselves emotionally and heal past wounds through therapy. Ugh.
So the key to intense action in a movie theater was to create your own. She currently knelt on Lars’s lap, kissing him. The man was always a little slow to warm to her, but now he let his hands roam over her hips and ass. His wide strong fingers curled, giving her a squeeze. And she let her hands roam up under his loose gray T-shirt to the hard landscape of muscle and hot skin and some surprisingly soft chest hair.
“Never done this before,” he muttered between breaths as they tilted their heads to change up the kiss. “Like it.” Her fingernail glanced across his nipple and the man hissed into their kiss. “Like that too.”
“If I were more daring,” she said, “I’d shove you down across the seats. But the arms don’t move, and I’m not quite that adventurous.”
“This works.” He pulled her in closer so her knees hit the back of the seat to either side of him. “A little tight, but—”
“It’s awkward.” She flipped her hair over a shoulder and tugged at his shirt in frustration. “Let’s ditch this place, yes? What time do you have to pick up Peanut?”
His slow smile beamed even in the darkness. “Not till morning.”
“Nice. Let’s go to my place and make out on the couch.”
* * *
Lars felt like a randy teenager driving fast to get to the secret hideout so he could pull over, drag the clothes off his girlfriend and make out with her. Except, he wasn’t sure if Mireio considered herself his girlfriend. Not that it mattered. They were adults. If they wanted to get their horny on, nothing would stop them.
And he didn’t want to consider how hooking up could complicate things. What if they had sex and that was it? She didn’t want to see him anymore? Could he handle that? He liked the witch. A lot. He didn’t want to spoil the slow, sure connection they’d developed.
And yet, with Mireio snuggled up against his side, dragging her fingers along his thigh, he could not stop thinking about how quickly he could get her clothes off once the door to her house closed behind them.
