Free Christmas in Transylvania by Sandra Hill

distinctive aura that came off their women like a mist, a pheromone, or whatever you called those sex-­lure things. In Faith, her woman-­scent was a sweet, light scent, like cotton candy. No kidding. He was getting turned on by friggin’ spun sugar.
    When he’d asked her a short time ago if she noticed any particular scent coming from him, she said, without hesitation, “Peppermint.”
    That was just great. Vikar and Trond and Ivak and Wrath and their partners gave got neat man/woman-­scents like cloves and honey and pine and ginger. He got candy!
    And, by the way, he had not been sucking on a damn candy cane at the mall, as Faith had assumed.
    Mike was going to have a fit. First of all, because Karl had brought a human into the castle. Secondly, because he’d dared to fall in love with one. Mike had made it more than clear to the VIK, the seven Sigurdsson brothers who were the leaders of all the vangels, that there were to be no more relationships with humans. If Mike felt like that with the esteemed VIK, what hope, then, did a lowly vangel like Karl have? None. Not that he was thinking that far ahead to commitment, or relationship, or, God forbid, marriage. His thinking was centered more like a foot below his belly button, but he knew where that would lead. He was not a casual sex kind of guy. Oh, crap! He had to stop thinking about sex, and Faith, before someone noticed the bulge in his jeans.
    He could always say he’d developed a sudden hernia from all that shopping. Like that would work!
    The best thing would be for him stay away from Faith.
    But he couldn’t.
    He went over to where she was perched in the same wingback chair before the fire where he’d sat the night he brought her back to the castle. Vikar had agreed that she could join the activity downstairs, but Alex had insisted that Faith just watch the decorating frenzy and not exert herself. The big tree in this room was almost done, and some of the vangels had moved on to the ones in the family room and the dormitory TV lounge.
    Karl tossed another log on the fire and used a poker to stir the flames. When he leaned against the mantel, he realized that the fire was almost too hot. He looked down at Faith, “Having a good time?”
    â€œWonderful. Everyone has been so nice to me. I’ll never remember all their names.”
    â€œI don’t remember half of them myself, and I live here.”
    â€œWhich brings up about fifty questions.”
    â€œI figured. Can they wait until after dinner? Lizzie is making her version of Amish chicken and dumplings.”
    â€œSounds delicious. Can I eat down here? Please don’t tell me I have to go back to my room yet.”
    â€œYou don’t like my bedroom?” Karl teased and could have kicked himself for the innuendo in his words.
    She just smiled, and, man, she had the sweetest smile, now that her lips were almost back to normal. “Is your cook’s name really Lizzie Borden?”
    He nodded.
    â€œWhy would anyone name their child after an axe murderer?”
    â€œShhh!” he said, putting a forefinger to his lips. “Don’t let her hear you say that.” When he saw the alarm on her face, he quickly added, “I was kidding. Lizzie is in the kitchen, where she reigns supreme. She doesn’t let anyone else take over her duties.”
    â€œShe sounds nice.”
    â€œI wouldn’t go that far.” Not even close. “Truth to tell, honey, Lizzie is the real Lizzie Borden.” The honey had just slipped out. Damn!
    She frowned. “How is that possible? She would have to be more than a hundred years old, wouldn’t she? I mean, I’m not sure when Lizzie Borden was alive, but it was surely a long, long time ago.’
    â€œYes.” He waved a hand dismissively then. “I’ll explain everything later.”
    Just then, someone turned off all the lights in the room so they could get the full effect of