Christmas in Transylvania Read Free

protested, “A Viking Santa?”
    Somehow, Alex managed to hop up onto his lap, straddling his hips. With arms looped around his neck, she said, “Please?”
    â€œI will be the laughingstock of Vikings throughout this world and the other,” he said on a groan of surrender.
    Oddly, he found that he no longer cared.

 
    Chapter Two
    Vangel to the rescue . . .
    K ARL HAD TO get away from the castle.
    That was nothing unusual. There were always so many ­people around the vangel homeplace, it was hard to find a private spot to be alone. And Karl was a loner at heart.
    At the present time, there were thirty-­five or so vangels in residence. Sometimes, there could be up to two hundred although not so much anymore since Michael had commissioned Ivak to establish another headquarters in Louisiana, and plans were supposedly afoot for more satellite operations. When not out on a mission, vangels here usually helped Vikar with whatever latest restoration job was in progress. Painting, plastering, plumbing, whatever, it was never-­ending. Or they hung out in one of the twenty-­five bedrooms, or the family television room, or the library, or the dormitory, lounge, and weight rooms in the dungeon basement. It was like having dozens of annoying brothers and sisters. And they all loved nothing better than to stick their noses in each other’s business. Viking busybodies!
    And now Christmas! The castle will be even more chaotic than usual. I’ll be damned if I dress up like jolly ol’ Nick because sure as sin Alex won’t be satisfied with just one Santa. And I’ll be damned if I sing Christmas carols. I could make anatomically correct Gingerbread Men and Women, though, like the ones Eric and I made when we were kids before Ma whipped our butts.
    The memory brought a smile to his face before he hopped in his ten-­year-­old pickup truck. Before turning on the ignition, he rubbed his hands over his bristly head in frustration. He’d kept his hair military short ever since ’Nam. Maybe it was time for a change.
    But not today.
    He often got in his pickup truck and just went out for a drive, or stopped at a greasy spoon for a cup of coffee, or on rare occasions parked on a hill overlooking one of the Amish farms outside of town and sat in his vehicle, watching the everyday activities of farm life. Pathetic, really.
    But today was different. What was it with that diarrhea of the mouth he’d suddenly developed? Talking nostalgically about his childhood home and family like they’d been the friggin’ Waltons or something? Pfff! Next he would be blabbing about his tour in ’Nam, at which point he would have to slit his own throat.
    Yeah, maybe it was time for a new hairstyle. Time to rid himself of that last visible reminder of that horrible episode in his life, when he’d committed his great sin. Hah! He could wear a ponytail down to his ass, and that wouldn’t change anything. The reminders were embedded forever in his brain.
    He drove slowly down the long driveway that led through the hundred-­acre property and nodded as Svein waved him through the electronic gate that had been erected last year. Security was extremely important, not just to keep out the tourists who flooded the whack-­job town of Transylvania, but it was important that the location of the vangel command center be kept a secret from Jasper, king of all the Lucipires, their most hated enemy.
    Lucipires were demon vampires, one of Satan’s many tools, whose sole purpose was to kill evil ­people, or those about to commit some great sin, before their time, before they had a chance to repent. Those taken were not sent to Hell but to Horror, where Jasper and his minions tortured them until they turned into Lucies themselves.
    Lucipires were the reason why vangels had been created to begin with. And humans, who had been guilty of some grave sin during their human life, like