Free Christmas in Transylvania by Sandra Hill Page B

okay.”
    â€œHe’s more than okay. He has wonderful tone. They all do.”
    â€œAnd you think you can talk Vikar into performing in public?” Karl was skeptical.
    â€œI can convince him to do anything, with the right incentive.” She gave Faith a conspiratorial smile, as if another woman would understand.
    To his surprise, Faith nodded.
    â€œBut that’s not all. Father Bernard wants a live Nativity Scene outside the church for the week leading up to Christmas.”
    â€œOh, crap! Well, we can’t do both. Sing inside and stand outside like bleeping idiots.”
    â€œSure we can. Those who want to sing, sing. Those who don’t, can be the Three Wise Men, shepherds, Joseph, Mary, angels, whatever. I don’t care if they’re a jackass. And, hey, maybe baby Michael . . . that’s Ivak and Gabrielle’s little one,” Alex explained for Faith’s benefit, “could be the baby Jesus. They should be here by then.”
    â€œAlex,” Karl said with a groan, “Vikar isn’t going to have a bird. He’s going to have a cow.”
    â€œI know,” Alex said, putting her face in her hands for a moment. Then she stood. “I better go find that black negligee with the peekaboo lace.”
    Karl and Faith looked at each other after Alex left, then burst out laughing.
    Was she really falling in love with Dracula? . . .
    Faith made it through dinner, but she didn’t realize how exhausted she was until she tried to climb the first flight of stairs to her third-­floor bedroom. She’d gone only five steps when Karl made a tsking sound of disgust and picked her up, as if she weighed no more than a pillow.
    She liked being in Karl’s arms. Too much.
    â€œWhere have you been sleeping while I’ve taken over your room?” she asked.
    â€œTrond’s bedroom, next door to mine, when he’s in residence.”
    â€œI’m sorry to put you out. I could sleep in another room.”
    â€œIt makes no difference to me where I sleep. As long as it’s not a rice paddy”
    â€œOkay,” she said, and nuzzled his neck.
    She thought he moaned softly, but it might have been because he was starting to feel the exertion of carrying a hundred and ten pounds up three flights of stairs. When they got to her room, he kicked the door open, turned on the lamps by nudging the wall switch with his elbow, then laid her on the bed. The light switch had also turned on the small, artificial Christmas tree Karl had bought her. It was sitting on the other side of the dresser and was possibly the most beautiful thing Faith had ever seen.
    â€œYou should take another pain pill now,” Karl advised.
    â€œNot yet,” she said. “They make me sleepy, and I want to stay awake while you answer my questions.”
    â€œWe could wait until tomorrow.”
    She shook her head. “Now.”
    He leaned his rump against the dresser and crossed his ankles. He wore a gray Navy SEAL T-­shirt over faded denims with ratty athletic shoes.
    â€œAre you a Navy SEAL?”
    He laughed. Apparently, it wasn’t the question he’d been expecting. “No. I trained to be a SEAL at one time, but that was never intended to my real mission. I was in the Army, but that was long before that.”
    His words raised more questions than answers, but there were some things she needed to get out of the way first.
    â€œWho are you, exactly? I mean, all of you ­people here. Vangels?”
    â€œHow do you know about vangels?”
    â€œThe twins.”
    â€œAh. How much did the little twerps disclose?”
    â€œNot much.” She shifted her butt up so that she was propped against her pillow, and folded her arms over her chest.
    â€œVangels are Viking vampire angels. Some of the five hundred or so vangels that exist in the world today were actual Vikings with swords and longships and all that stuff more than a thousand years