Biting Oz: Biting Love, Book 5

by Mary Hughes

  It wasn’t, of course. We argued until the taxi pulled up outside the Wurstspeicher Haus, at nearly ten that night.

  “You are not selling—hey.” I alighted from the cab, a neon orange TENFFOEG landing on my shirt. “The lights are on.”

  “Your store has evening hours.” Glynn pulled out our overnight bag. “That’s why you had to hire help to play the musical.”

  “Yeah, but even when I was home we closed by nine. And now my parents are the only ones running the place. They said they’d shut at five.”

  His black brows pressed together. He took a step closer. His nostrils flared and he hissed. “Vampire.”

  I ran straight for the door. “My folks—” I folded in two around his barring arm. Rubbing my middle, I backed off with a glare. “Vampire means they may be in trouble.”

  “Exactly why you’ll stay here.”

  I rolled eyes. “Because there are no vampires outside in the dark.”

  “Bollocks. All right.” He reached into his ever-present black jacket, snicked out a long, silvery blade, and advanced. “Stay behind me.”

  A bell tinkled as he opened the door…and an electronic tune squealed with guitar distortion. The tune sounded damned familiar.

  “Welcome to Wurst Und Käse. How may I help you?”

  The voice sounded familiar too. I peeked around Glynn’s black leather.

  Cheese Dude Two stood behind the register. Cheese Dude One, beside him, was busily stuffing away fifty dollars’ worth of blood sausage into a green cloth sack.

  The latest outrage. “They’re stealing our product! Attack!”

  Glynn and I both charged at superhuman speed, Glynn because he was a vampire and me because I was fed up with this crap.

  Cheese Dude One threw his hands up. I braced myself for a jalapeño stick hit but kept going at ramming speed—

  I smashed into a wall of chest and bounced sprawling onto the floor.

  Not Glynn this time, because he sprawled next to me. Standing over us, arms folded, was Julian Emerson.

  “What the hell?” Glynn leaped to his feet, fanged and ready.

  Julian waved him down. “Relax. I’m making an emergency food run for Nixie. Liver sausage and cream cheese, yum-yum. And some blutwurst for me. I appreciate only having to make one stop now. I didn’t want you to screw that up.”

  I shoved to my feet, dusted off my butt. “What do you mean? We’ve sold blood sausage alongside our regular wurst for months.”

  “But not the cream cheese. Or the Limburger.” He turned to the register. “Better add half a pound of that and some garlic summer. She’s on a stinky food kick too.”

  “You got it, Mr. Emerson.” Cheese Dude One trotted over to the cooler…which was suspiciously clean and shiny, and hummed without a clank.

  I whipped around. All the coolers were new. And inside them—rounds of cheese marched alongside sticks of sausage. On the shelves, silver cow charms were displayed pinned to sausage scarves. Yellow foam wedge-cheese hats even sat on the top shelf.

  Mom and Pop would never countenance wasting precious retail space on someone else’s merchandise. I whipped back. “Where are my parents?”

  “Dead to the world,” Cheese Dude Two said.

  Horror catapulted me over the counter. I’d snap his fat neck with my bare hands.

  Dude Two sprang aside with amazing agility, eyes wide. “Wait, no! The parents are just fine.” He flapped his meaty hands. “Better than fine. They’re asleep. Good thing, after all the work they’ve been doing, installing the new coolers, moving product.”

  “That’s a lie!” I said. “They barely had enough money for one cooler.”

  “We footed the bill.” Dude One trotted behind the counter, hands full of cheese and sausage. “Our goodwill offering to our new partners.”

  “What?”

  “Junior? What are you doing back?” A cookie elf came shuffling out of the back. Pop blinked, caught sight of Glynn. “Ah, gut. Welcome home, son.”

  I whirled. “Pop, what’s going on? Why are the Cheese Dudes here? You hate them.”

  “Ah, Junior, your mother and I…we heard you speak at the musical, and…it was mature. Sensible. And we were tired of the conflict. So when you left that morning, we went over to the Dudes’ place and hammered out a partnership.”

  “But Pop, so fast?”

  “The Cheese Dudes are making big profits.” Pop smiled. “And now we are too. Don’t worry. We’ll still leave the family store to you and Glynn and the little liebchens coming.”

  While my mouth was hanging open, he shuffled back to bed.

  “I heard about your speech,” Dude One said. “You really did a number on the collective city guilt gland. Coolers installed in less than a week, and we’ve got a contractor starting tomorrow to connect the two stores.”

  Dude Two chimed in. “But until that’s done, we’re consolidating the best-selling product here. Mom and Pop Stieg run the place during the day and we run it at night. That way we can keep the store open 24/7 and get more customers.”

  Julian nodded. “It’s nice being able to shop whenever Nixie’s cravings hit.”

  “How can you side with them?” I glared. Julian was supposed to be my friend. I was annoyed with him, even more annoyed that the enemy Dudes were calling my parents Mom and Pop like they were sons too. “And you Cheese Dudes…you hate us. You have since you moved in.”

  “Don’t blame us.” Dude One rolled his eyes. “The smell was driving us nuts.”

  “Says the guy with the stinky cheese,” I muttered.

  “The blood sausage.” Dude Two licked his lips. As his tongue darted out, I caught a flash—of two tiny fangs.

  “But now we’ve hammered out a deal,” Dude One said. “All the blutwurst we can suck. In return we run the online Wurst Und Käse store and man the registers after sunset.”

  I’d always said we needed an online presence. But… “You’re a vampire?”

  Dude One hugged Dude Two. “Both Ralphie and me. My name’s Vaughan, by the way.”

  Glynn took me by the arms. “Do you realize what this means?”

  “Yes,” I groaned. “The little liebchens really do get everything.”

  “Not just that.” He started purring.

  “The apocalypse has come?”

  “Your parents are set. Even after the musical closes, we can live in New York or wherever we want. Even Wales.” He yanked me in for a hug, my chin crushed between his pectorals. “As long as it’s together.”

  “Yeah,” I said, kinda muffled by muscle. “And as long as we come home for Thanksgiving.”

  Bows and Playoff

  Glynn and I walked hand in hand through the rolling green meadow, the soft scent of nearby farms not Iowa corn but tidy hedgerowed Welsh crofts. We were on our honeymoon, coinciding with a two-week break in the sell-out crowds for Oz, Wonderful Oz.

  “Mishela looked great on Craig Ferguson last night,” I said.

  “She did,” Glynn said. “She does a fantastic interview.”

  “It’ll be great for her career. You know, I always suspected Ferguson was a vampire.”

  “He’s not. But a number of his viewers are.”

  I smiled at him. We were together at last, but only because of Nixie, Julian, Rocky, Mishela, the Cheese Dudes, Mom and Pop and a dozen more people. I used to think it wasn’t the choice itself, but what I did after. I was wrong. It wasn’t just my choice. It was my interacting with dozens of other people interacting with thousands more.

  Long run? Theater people were right, in a way. Life was chaotic; life was magic. I could only control my own actions, not my own fate.

  Still, without my actions, without trying to corral small children that first night which got me rescued by Glynn’s big warm hands, without falling in love with Glynn…without love, I might have stayed in Meiers Corners or gone to New York, but I’d still be searching for my rainbow. “You know, Dorothy was right.”

  He smiled down at me. “Abou
t what?”

  “About home. I’m glad to have grown up in Meiers Corners. It taught me what home is, what it can be. Duty, but more. Being the best you can, both for yourself and for the people you love.”

  “Dreaming in a safe place.” He traced my cheek. “Launching from that safe place to realize your dreams.”

  “Yes. I took all that with me. And now I’ll use it to build a strong home with you.”

  “I’ll do everything I can to make you happy, Junior.” Glynn shifted his grip, held my hand more tightly. “I meant what I said, babi. You’re my home now.”

  “I’ll be your home—for as long as I’m alive. Which, from what I understand from Dolly, could be longer than the eighty or ninety years I was first figuring on?”

  “Ah, yes. The secret.” He bent, whispered in my ear.

  I felt my eyes bug out. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I’m not.”

  I swore. “You guys would be hunted like whales if anyone knew—”

  “Shh.” His finger covered my lips. “That’s why it is a secret.”

  “But you’d do that for me? Just to extend my life a little?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  I squeezed his hand. If I hadn’t already known he loved me, I did now.

  We walked in silence. When we passed a crumbling folly, I said, “You mentioned a Lord Rhys when you told me about your name. I looked him up. He and his daughter, a Lady Gwenllian, were alive around your time. Did you know them?”

  Glynn laughed. “Everyone did. Lady Gwen was quite the social force. From entertaining kings to nursing sick children, she did it all. She was married to Ednyfed Fychan.”

  “I read that too. And that Ednyfed and Gwenllian had six sons.”

  “At least six. The vampire who kidnapped me was always hanging around there. It seemed there were dozens of children in the yard. The vampire talked about capturing another boy…” He stopped. Cold.

  “Another boy.” I grabbed both his hands. “The vampire named himself Fychan, like Ednyfed Fychan. And you had a blanket with three heads—just like the Ednyfed coat of arms. Glynn, what if you’re one of Ednyfed’s sons? His grandson was Tudur Hen. You’d be a Tudor.”

  “I’d be…good heavens. After all this time, a possible family.” His eyes misted, the bright sapphire silvered by the moon. “Will you research it with me?”

  “I’d love to.”

  Then he bent his head and kissed me. “But it doesn’t matter as much any more, because I have another family now.” He stroked my belly.

  “Despite your telling me I couldn’t get pregnant.” I smiled into his eyes.

  “When I told you that, I didn’t know you were mine.” He smiled back. “My mate, my heart.”

  We walked our land hand-in-hand. The moon shone down upon us, bright as a followspot. Behind us, long shadows trailed the green grass.

  Love had put us here. Our love, but more. Love of friends, of family. Love of a whole damned annoying city.

  There truly is no place like home.

  About the Author

  Mary Hughes is a computer consultant, professional musician and writer. At various points in her life she has taught tae kwon do, worked in the insurance industry, and studied religion. She is intensely interested in the origins of the universe. She has a wonderful husband (though happily-ever-after takes a lot of hard work) and two great kids. But she thinks that with all the advances in modern medicine, childbirth should be a lot less messy.

  Visit Mary at http://www.maryhughesbooks.com/, Facebook http://www.facebook.com/MaryHughesAuthor and Twitter http://www.twitter.com/MaryHughesBooks, or write Mary at mary@maryhughesbooks.com .

  Look for these titles by Mary Hughes

  Now Available:

  Biting Love Series

  Bite My Fire

  Biting Nixie

  The Bite of Silence

  Biting Me Softly

  He’s a candy box of sex appeal wrapped in a golden bow. She’s on a diet.

  Biting Me Softly

  © 2010 Mary Hughes

  Biting Love, Book 4

  Blood, sex, violence. Blood, okay, but computer geek Liese Schmetterling had enough S&V when her cheating ex fired her. Now security expert—and lip-smacking gorgeous—Logan Steel saunters into her Blood Center, setting fire to her libido. And threatening her job.

  Visions of pink slips dancing in her head, Liese tries to push Logan away without touching his jutting pecs…or ridged abs. Or petting the Vesuvius in his jeans. He’s hiding something, but it doesn’t seem to matter when his smiles stun her, his kisses crank her to broiling and his bites rocket her to heaven. Fangy bites which, if she weren’t grounded in science, would make her think ampire-Vay.

  Centuries old and tragedy-scarred, Logan’s mission is to fortify the Blood Center’s electronic defenses against his nemesis, the leader of a rogue vampire gang. He’s ready for battle but not for Liese, who slips under his skin, laughs at his awful puns, charges beside him into dark, scary places—and tastes like his true love.

  No matter how often Logan declares his love, Liese can’t bring herself to trust him. But when his archenemy comes after her, not trusting him may cost her life...

  Warning this book contains explicit vampire sex involving absurdly large male equipment (hey, they’re monsters), unbelievable stamina (just how long can he stay underwater in a hot tub?), hide-your-eyes violence and horrendously bad puns. And, just when you think it can’t get any worse, a computer geekette trying to play Mata Hari.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Biting Me Softly:

  When I first clapped eyes on Logan, I thought, Hot damn. Look what the Sex Fairy brung me!

  It was eight p.m. Sunday night, and I was at work. I do computers for the Meiers Corners Blood Center. The staff is me, the executive director and a part-time nurse named Battle. I was the only one who worked insane hours, but I was new and still trying to prove myself.

  I don’t know what made me look up. The cool March air, perhaps. Maybe the aroma wafting in, mystery and magic with overtones of raw sex.

  Whatever it was, my eyes lifted and there he was, the most stunning male I’d ever seen. Smack-me-between-the-eyes gorgeous. Bright blond hair rippled to broad, muscular shoulders. Lean strength roped a long, lithe body. Laughter and intelligence sparked gold-flecked hazel eyes. Perfect lips curved in a smile so sensuous it made my innards go bang.

  Then he opened his mouth and spoke. Talk about ruining perfection.

  “Hello, gorgeous.” His tone was deep and lazy. “I want to speak to the computer man in charge.”

  Right. Well that just spoiled everything, didn’t it?

  I crossed my arms under my breasts. “You’re looking at him. I’m the head apple. Minus the stem, but those are overrated anyway.”

  My sarcasm didn’t even faze the man. He tucked one spectacular ass cheek on my desk and leaned in, so close I could feel his warmth on my face. “You’re L. Schmetterling? How…fruitful. And what, my Red Delicious, does the L stand for? Laurie? Lucy? Lovely?”

  All that male beauty and a tight ass on top of it. I’d been burned once by a man with a flabby butt and no hair. This man would incinerate me.

  I clutched the reminder of male perfidy on my ring finger and screwed up my most forbidding expression. “It stands for Leave. As in Me Alone.”

  “I live to do your bidding, princess,” the man crooned, his lips inches from mine. He had perfect, chiseled lips—the kind designed by Michelangelo for kissing. “But if you’re L. Schmetterling, I can’t leave. I have business with you.”

  “Look, buddy.” It came out all husky-voiced. I let go of the ring and tried to work back to reasonable. “Look, I don’t know you, and it’s late. Business hours are nine to five Monday through Friday. Come back tomorrow.” I turned to my laptop and pretended I wasn’t quivering to taste those chiseled lips. “You’re just lucky I was here.”

  “Oh, I knew you’d be in.” The man stood with lazy grace, t
he kind latent with power. I watched him from the corner of my eye. He was really quite big and though his body was lean, his shoulders were stunningly broad. He would be immensely strong. He leaned knuckles on my desk. “You work late every night. Most nights you’re here until ten or eleven. Alone.” His tone held a touch of censure.

  Strangely enough, I hadn’t been afraid of him until then. My eyes jerked to his. Hard steel underlay his friendly expression.

  I swallowed rising panic—though I was a black belt in Taekwondo, short and kicky was shit against strong and prowly. “What did you say your name was?”

  “I didn’t.” He pulled a small leather case from his jeans pocket and tossed a business card on my desk with a careless snap of the wrist. The card should have skipped like a stone and sailed into my wastepaper basket. It landed right under my nose.

  Gorgeous and talented. This guy would bear watching. Aw, shucks, my libido said. I ignored it. Eyes locked on him, I picked up the card. Dared a glance. Logan Steel, CEO Steel Security.

  Smack me in the face with a Toshiba. Steel Security was the firm that installed a multimillion-dollar security system at Andersly-Dogget Distribution, my first job—one week before I was fired.

  “Water under the bridge, Liese,” my mother would say. “Put it behind you.” Moms are always right, especially mine. But right doesn’t equal easy.

  I threw the card back. It hit the desk and rebounded into the trash, making my cheeks heat. “You can’t be serious! Steel Security is the Ferrari of security firms. They do the biggest names in the world. Why would they be in little Meiers Corners?”

  “We are here to install a system.” Steel perched gracefully on my desk again. In his tight black T-shirt and open leather jacket he looked more like a well-muscled fashion model than a CEO.

  “No way. Our Blood Center isn’t Red Cross. Most people have never heard of the Hemoglobin Society. On the galactic scale of Steel Security, we’re not even a comet.”

  Steel grinned at that, a smile so sharp and white that I was momentarily blinded. “Nice pun.”

  Wow. Mr. Fortune 500 (and Body 300) thought I was amusing?