Biting Me Softly: Biting Love, Book 3

by Mary Hughes

  Fifteen excruciatingly long minutes later, we’d picked up Billy and Tad, and were finally on the stairs to the lower level. Not because it took that long to find the boys. No, they were in line at the Coal Mine, first place we looked. Two floors in fifteen minutes, because—

  “I gotta go potty,” Lilly said for the hundredth time.

  I clamped the tiny hand in mine and gritted my teeth. “You went a minute ago. And a minute before that.” And, like a Chinese water torture, every facility between the balcony and the lower level, some twice. At this rate we wouldn’t reach the entry hall until the Omega point.

  Two levels in fifteen minutes because of Lilly’s potty training. I wondered what Freud would have to say. Of course whatever he’d say, Jane Austen Smith would say more, primly and in a voice that carried like a grade-school nun. “It’s a bathroom. And you urinate, or if you have solid waste, you defec—”

  “Yes, yes, enough.” Logan thrust a hand through his already-disheveled hair.

  He had to let go of Billy Wilder to do it. Billy screamed “Coal Mine!” and took off instantly.

  “Damn it.” Even as a super-fast vampire, Logan needed several steps to catch Billy. Of course, that might have been because Tad, still clasped in Logan’s other hand, was doing his best imitation of a rock.

  “Language, Logan.” Personally I felt like screaming the thesaurus of cuss, but they were children, damn…gosh darn it.

  “Fine. Merde! Ce me fait chier.” Logan glared at me over the children like this was my fault.

  “I don’t feel so good.” Tad burped, his cheeks inflated, and his skin tinged green. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

  “Not here!” Logan paled. He swallowed convulsively, nostrils flared. Apparently there were disadvantages to ultra-sensitive vampire noses.

  “I gotta go potty,” Lilly insisted, tugging on my hand.

  Bud trundled along next to us, carrying three little sparkly backpacks and a couple Gameboy bags, not to mention an industrial-sized pack of his own. “Again, I’m so sorry, Mr. Steel, Ms. Schmetterling. I really thought I could handle keeping the kids together.”

  Logan gave Billy Wilder a particularly black glare. “It’s not your fault, Bud. Your mother should never have saddled you with all these children alone.”

  “That’s part of the problem.” Bud shifted backpacks to rub the nape of his neck. “Frieda was with me. She was, um, impressed with how I handled the kids. I guess I liked that. But when we stopped at the bathrooms we had to split up. I came out of the men’s and Lilly was waiting with Jane Austen Smith but Frieda and Angela were nowhere to be found. And then I got absorbed taking notes at an exhibit and sort of lost everyone.”

  That alarmed me. I’d assumed from his earlier statement that everyone had dispersed at the same time. But now it sounded like Angela and her sister had disappeared without a word. Remembering how Frieda had looked at Bud, that didn’t sound right.

  Logan exchanged a significant glance with me. He’d caught that, too. “Well, we corralled everyone except Angela and Frieda, and we’ll find them next.”

  Lilly tugged emphatically on my hand. “But I gotta go potty.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a Frankenbanker shadow slink around the corner, did a double-take. Couldn’t be. Ruthven was safely tucked under the sod of Springfield, in spitting distance of Lincoln’s last resting place. But if I didn’t know better… “No potty now, sweetie,” I said to Lilly. “We need to stay together.”

  “We can stay together,” she piped. “In the potty.”

  “It’s a bathroom.” Jane Austen Smith shook one finger at her. “And it’s a noun, not a verb. Although some people use it as a verb, but that’s wrong. You should always say urinate or defeca—”

  “Let’s check the Idea Factory first.” Logan tugged Billy and Tad into motion. I dragged my two charges after.

  “What’s the Idea Factory?” Lilly asked.

  As a veteran of many museum field trips, I knew the answer to that. “It’s a place to build things.”

  Billy Wilder’s eyes lit up. “Like bombs?”

  “I don’t know about bombs, but there’s a crane, mirrors and lenses for playing with light, and a water spectacle. It’s for kids ten and under.”

  On the museum map the Idea Factory looked like a small room. In reality, it was a huge wonderland cave full of excited, engaged children. Through the rainbow arch entry the noise practically deafening.

  “I wish we could stay,” Jane Austen Smith said.

  Logan said, “We’ll come back. I promise.”

  “We will?” The younger kids started dancing.

  “We will?” Bud echoed, eyebrow arching. He obviously knew what Logan’s promise implied.

  Logan seemed to realize it at the same moment. He shrugged. “One way or another.”

  We had just passed a bunch of youngsters killing innocent plastic balls with jets of water when a cell phone started ringing, gentle compared to Logan’s usual surround sound experience. He shifted children, reached into his jeans. “Beer Barrel Polka” emerged. Oh yeah. He still had my phone. “Strongwell? Why are you up? What?” Logan’s eyes burned a sudden bright predator’s gold.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Ms. Smelling, you’re holding me too tight,” Lilly said.

  “It’s Schmetterling,” Jane Austen Smith chimed in.

  “I’m sorry, dear.” I loosened my grip. “Logan, what is it?”

  He snapped the phone shut, did a slow three-sixty, nostrils flared. “Dam—darn. I don’t sense him. Too many people.”

  “Who?”

  “Thor called Bo.” Logan spoke to me but his eyes didn’t stop surveying. “He heard a car start up and drive away He didn’t think to look outside for a couple hours but when he did the Maybach was gone.”

  “The Maybach was stolen? That’s too bad. That must be a fairly expensive car, being that it’s specially…shielded…oh shi—” Childish laughter from behind made me catch myself just in time. “—itake mushrooms. Ruthven? But how?”

  “I don’t know. But I’d guess that redhead who was with the Lestat gang yesterday.”

  “Logan, are you saying Ruthven could be here?”

  “The backhoe, the shielded Maybach…couldn’t have made it easier for them. One minion lured Zinnia here while the other dug Ruthven up, drove him…oh, shit.”

  “Language, Mr. Steel,” Jane said primly.

  But I’d seen what Logan had and the profanity was deserved. The Ralph Kramden lookalike in bus driver’s uniform held Frieda by the wrists and was manhandling her toward the Factory’s exit. Angela trailed them unhappily. Good God, had he captured the girls and been parading them around the exhibits like a normal family, all the while waiting for Ruthven?

  Bud followed our gaze and saw Frieda. His face was stricken.

  Logan immediately glided out on a tangent that would intercept the driver—and was brought to a screeching halt.

  “I wanna stay,” Billy Wilder said.

  “I don’t. I’m gonna barf.” Tad underlined his words with some chucking noises. “Get me to the bathroom.”

  “I gotta go potty too,” Lilly said.

  “It’s urinate,” Jane Austen Smith insisted. “Or—”

  Frieda saw us then. With a shriek she started struggling. The bus driver slapped her and dragged her faster toward the rainbow entrance.

  The entrance where a tall, thin Frankenbanker had appeared.

  “Merde.” Logan started again toward Frieda but Billy and Tad had turned into miniature black holes. “Damn it. Bud.” He thrust boys’ hands into Bud’s, who had to juggle backpacks to catch them. And then Logan was gone, not poof but still moving faster than any human.

  But that was okay because the crowd of parents and kids had started realizing something was going on at the entrance, and weren’t paying any attention to Logan.

  “Hey, what’re you doing?” a man shouted at the bus driver. “Let that girl go!”


  The adults boiled up—directly in Logan’s path. Logan, in truly heroic form, pressed through the heaving, jostling mass. Ruthven caught sight of him coming, pointed at the minion and then toward the back corridor, then filtered away.

  The bus driver dragged Frieda to the entrance. A museum employee on duty there reached out to stop him. He slugged her. The woman fell back, eyes wide with shock.

  The adults near the entrance roared with anger. A big guy who looked like an ex-Marine sergeant with a diaper bag slung across his chest grabbed for the bus driver. The driver thrust Angela at him instead, dashed out with Frieda while the ex-Marine was catching little Angela.

  Logan stopped long enough to see Angela safe with the museum official, then ran after Frieda and the driver.

  A roar of pain sounded next to me. Bud, his eyes on the spot where the driver had escaped with Frieda. As if he couldn’t help himself, he started for the entrance. His grip on the younger boys loosened for just one instant.

  “Coal mine!” screamed Billy Wilder. He yanked away from Bud, darted through the seething adults.

  “Billy! Come back here.” I gripped my two charges tighter and started after him.

  “I’ll get him, Ms. Schmetterling.” Bud tossed three little glittering backpacks over one shoulder. He looked grim, determined and ultra-competent.

  “Leave Tad with me.” Logan’s and Bud’s deranged heroics were apparently rubbing off on me. “You can move faster alone.”

  Naturally the instant Bud was gone Tad covered his mouth. “I’m really gonna barf.” He ran toward the exit.

  “Tad, wait.” I started after him, only to be caught by Lilly.

  “I gotta go potty now.”

  Jane Austen Smith yanked loose. “If everyone else is deserting, I’m going to see Colleen Moore’s Fairy Castle.”

  “No.” I managed to seize Jane’s wrist, whirled her around. “We are staying together.”

  “Let go.” She tugged. “This is child abuse.”

  “I don’t care. We have to catch Tad.” I started dragging her after the escaped boy.

  She dropped like a boulder, nearly throwing me off my feet. “Child abuse,” she shrieked. “Let me go!”

  Nearby adults, still seething from the bus driver, gave me black looks. I winced but held on, tugged her to her feet and made it another ten yards before she went down again.

  “I want to see the Fairy Castle. You’ll let me go if you know what’s good for you.”

  I tried to haul her up but she had a one ton wrecking ball in her underpants. “Jane, come on. Be a good little girl.”

  Jane’s eyes shifted to the adults ringing us. For an eight-year-old, they were awfully calculating. “You’re not my real mom,” she shouted. “Let me go. I don’t like the bad touches!”

  “You perv,” a woman hissed.

  “Let her go.” The ex-Marine father who’d rescued Angela took one threatening step forward.

  I practically threw Jane’s hand from me. “I’m not—”

  The father’s arm cocked to grab me.

  Jane yanked away. “She beats me,” she crowed, and took off for the archway.

  “Potty!” Lilly ripped herself free and darted after Jane.

  I ran after, straight into a wall of angry adults. Beyond the red faces I could see the museum attendant tapping her talk box, no doubt reporting the disturbances. Lilly and Jane slipped through the rainbow arch and I tried to follow, but was again rebuffed by a barricade of hostility.

  I could have chewed my purse batteries and spit lightning. One child was kidnapped, the others were scattered to the four winds. A bloodsucking vampire was lurking in wait, and a bunch of well-intentioned parents stood in the way. And Logan had my cell phone.

  That was when I saw Ruthven flit past the rainbow arch, headed after Lilly and Jane.

  Chapter Nineteen

  That did it. I burst the shackles of mild-mannered Liese Schmetterling and became the Raging Bulk, for once glad of my extra fifteen pounds. Using my purse like a battering ram, I pushed my way through. My determination (and the combined weight of me and the purse) made the adults stumble back, even the huge ex-Marine.

  I burst through the wall of people, tore like a mad locomotive for little Angela and snared her hand from the museum employee. I flamed through the archway, Angela trotting obediently behind me.

  Smack into two burly men, bulling through the crowd from Farm Tech. They wore official tags around their necks, their demeanor said security.

  “Hey you. Stop!” The ex-Marine father hadn’t given up either.

  Couldn’t escape forward or back so I ducked down amid the general mill of people and snuck sideways across the aisle. There I found a small cubicle (by museum standards that is—it was actually the size of a church foyer) filled with strollers, like a baby buggy parking ramp. I hid until the burly security guards and well-intentioned father passed.

  As I waited I planned. Lilly and Tad were both headed for the bathroom. I’d start there. Simple.

  Except for one problem. Ruthven was in the museum, somewhere close.

  Crowds of potential witnesses might keep him from acting right away, but I knew some parts of the museum were sparsely trafficked. With Logan and me separated, this was the perfect opportunity for Ruthven to catch a butterfly.

  The guards and father were gone. I dashed out of hiding with Angela, through Farm Tech to the lower level bathrooms.

  “Itsy Bitsy Spider” drifted from the ladies’ room. Inside Lilly’s little shoes waved below the door of one of the stalls. Two women were washing hands, checking makeup, so I couldn’t just crawl under and yank her out. Not unless I wanted another lynch mob on my hands. “Lilly, honey, hurry up.”

  “Okay.” More foot-waving.

  A couple other stall doors were closed. Occupied, hopefully by humans. Did vampires have to use the facilities? I made a mental note to ask Logan. But for now, Lilly was covered. “Honey, I’m going to find Tad, okay? I’ll be right back.” Angela in hand, I scooted across to the men’s room.

  The restrooms on the lower level of the museum were set up like an airport’s, no doors, only open walkways curving in. Peeking cautiously around the corner I called, “Tad? Tad, are you in there?”

  Nothing. I crept into the men’s bathroom, feeling vaguely criminal. One guy was at the urinals. He saw me, squeaked, zipped up midstream, and squeaked again (I think he caught something) and fled. Angela trotted patiently at my side as I checked quickly under the doors. Empty.

  “Dam…ascus steel. Tad, where are you?” A quick check of the ladies’ room revealed the little shoes still swinging. Another woman was washing her hands, but that still left one stall occupied. I ran out of the bathroom, but no Tad had appeared in the meantime, not in the hallway or men’s room. No revealing retching noises either. I ran toward the women’s room again with a half-formed idea of snatching Lilly whether she was finished or not, when I was hit by an oh-no moment.

  The oh-no moment, for the non-technical, is that instant just after pressing the enter key on the biggest screwup of your life. Example? Type delete c:*.*. Press enter. Oh-no. The entire hard drive is erased.

  Sometimes it’s called the oh-shit second. It’s a single moment of horror knowing that you have committed the most moronic act of your life and there is nothing you can do to call it back.

  I stood in the hallway, my bowels turning to water and my heart suddenly hammering, and saw the other bathrooms.

  The Museum of Science and Industry is very modern. Besides the regular men’s/ladies’ restrooms, they also have family-friendly rooms, small gas-station style cubicles with a single toilet, sink, changing table and tile floor with drain. There were four on this level, two each flanking the regular men’s and women’s.

  Tad might be in one of these. Isolated, alone. Free for the taking by the bus driver or Ruthven. Or, remembering that someone drove Ruthven here, Carrothead Jr.

  Heart tripping, I flung the door open on one.
Empty. I ran to the other side of the hall, reached for the next handle. Drew my hand back.

  If Tad were inside, surely the door would be locked? The human minions couldn’t get in and Ruthven wouldn’t chance misting in a crowd, right? So Tad was safe unless Ruthven was so far gone with revenge that he had completely abandoned common sense…yeah. I grabbed the handle and wrenched the door open.

  Tad stood trembling, wrapped in the arms of a skeleton.

  It was far worse than I thought. Not only Ruthven and his human minions were here. I recognized this rail-thin skull-head as the Lestat vampire Shiv. Apparently Emerson’s lieutenants had let him go.

  His eyes burned fire, his fangs glinted in the artificial light, and there was no doubt this lieutenant of Ruthven’s could kill. Tad was in the clutches of an evil Lestat. And I had to handle it on my own.

  Gollum-like Shiv grinned at me. Croaked in his whiny voice, “Schmetterling. Lord Ruthven said you’d come.” He shuffled closer, dragging Tad along. “I’m gonna enjoy doing you.”

  My hand tightened on Angela’s. Weed Whacker here had been expecting me. Gunning for me. Zajicek had been right.

  And there was nothing I could do about it. I was a human, vulnerable to a super-fast, super-strong bloodsucker—because of Logan.

  The horror swamping me hijacked my brain, leaving only the certainty that Logan had seduced me, brought me into his world—and conveniently left me. Yes, I know he was rescuing the kids but my old emotional tapes screamed it was happening again. Pumped even bigger by adrenalin, it felt far too real. Another man seducing me, using me and dumping me. Another man—

  “Not a man.” Bad Liese sat on one shoulder, nonchalantly polishing her nails on her killer gold lamé gown.

  “A vampire.” On my other shoulder, Good Liese was equally nonchalant as she stitched at a pretty little sampler.

  I glared at them in turn. “What are you two doing here?”

  “Well, duh,” Good Liese said. “Decision time.”

  The vampire’s hand flashed out, grabbed my wrist and yanked me in. I released Angela who showed the good sense to stay on the outside as the door swung quietly shut behind me. “Decision?” I threw at G-Liese. “The only decision I have is how fast to die.”