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Blood Wyne Yasmine Galenorn. Published by Berkley New Softcover Quantity Available: Seller Rating:. Blood Wyne Galenorn, Yasmine. Hungry ghosts are tearing up the town and people are running scared. I strike a deal with Ivana Krask--one of the Elder Fae--and too late, discover strings are attached.
But when I turn to Roman, one of the oldest, most powerful vampires around, for help, he offers me more than I ever bargained for. Luke had left the bar for a good reason, but that didn't mean I had to like it. And his replacement-Shawn, a vampire-hadn't risen to the challenge. I'd fired him after two weeks of inept bartending and questionable customer service. When I caught him trying to put the fang on a couple of my regulars, I lost it and kicked him out.
Nobody messed with my regulars, especially in my bar. But that left a void. The Wayfarer was busy like every other place during the holiday season and we needed every hand on board. We'd started early, just like every other business downtown, with an Otherworld Thanksgiving feast from the grill, and then that weekend I'd put up a fake tree in the corner and handed out bonuses so that my employees could shop early.
Now, nearing the end of the first week of December, the main focus of Winter Solstice was still ahead of us-and Christmas for my clients who celebrated it-and the parties were already getting more frantic and raucous every night as people crowded in, exhausted from shopping and coping with holiday chaos. Nerissa gave me the 'what can you do' gesture with her hands, tossing them up in the air.
I'm sorry, but that's the way things go. I laughed, then shrugged. I tipped my head back and she caught me full on the mouth. I savored my golden goddess's lips as she set off a ricochet of desire that shockwaved through my body. All I could think about was how much I wanted her. As I reached for her breast, my fingers sliding over the rounded curves of her body, a knock on the door interrupted us.
A werepuma, Nerissa was a warped Aphrodite, but she was also extremely diplomatic about knowing when I needed to present a professional appearance. She sat primly in the chair, her skirt-suit and tawny chignon making her look like a librarian waiting to bust out and go wild. Everybody knew we were together, but it wouldn't do for the boss to be sucking face when the help checked in.
She glanced at Nerissa, then at me, and grinned. I'm not sure, but you might want to talk to him. The Wayfarer attracted far too many potential problems for me to take a chance on any more full blooded humans. Chrysandra had gotten the hang of working around Supes of all kinds, but for a bartender, I needed someone who could also act as bouncer when I wasn't around. Pieder, the giant, did a good job, but he worked days, and I was hiring for the night shift.
I probably should hire a second bouncer while I was at it, but since I worked a majority of evenings in the bar, I usually covered the void. Smart people didn't mess with vampires, and most of my regulars had quickly learned not to cross me. She nodded.
He has an odd feel. Chrysandra was, I had discovered, fairly psychic for an FBH-full blooded human-and she picked up on things easily. You sure you want to talk to him alone, girl? Never, ever forget it. I loved her dearly, and because of that, I never wanted her to forget I was a dangerous predator. It was my nature and I accepted it and at times-reveled in it. I wanted to slip my hands under the hem, to run them up her golden thighs.
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For so long, I'd repressed my sexuality after Dredge got done with me, but Nerissa had woken it up, full-steam ahead, and there was no putting the Djinn back in the bottle. I put my feet on the floor and straightened the papers on my desk. Inventory time was heading full throttle toward us; we were coming up on the end of the year and I needed to do a full accounting of everything in the bar.
I also was preparing to open the Wayfarer to overnight travelers. We'd cleaned out the rooms upstairs, redecorated and sanded and painted, and now I had space for seven guests, with three communal bathrooms. But opening to overnight guests meant hiring a maid. I'd also have to find someone to run room service, carry bags, and, in general, take care of the needs of our Otherworld patrons.
For the most part, that's who I expected to see. I already had decided that I wouldn't rent to goblins, ogres, or anybody likely to cause trouble. Since the Wayfarer technically belonged to an OW resident-me-it was considered sovereign territory. I could discriminate for whatever reason I wanted. And letting creeps and miscreants stay in the bar wasn't my idea of equal opportunity.
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Especially not when my sisters and I were waging a demonic war. The door opened and a man cleared the archway. As I glanced at him, looking him up and down, I found myself suitably impressed. I had no doubt the man could chuck people out of the bar. Brawn, he had. That much was clear. He only stood five-eight, but his biceps were works of art, and his thighs looked strong enough to crack a skull. His hair, jet black with a white streak, was held back in a thick pony tail, hitting about mid-shoulder. It set off eyes as green as my sister Delilah's.
He looked to be around his mid-thirties, but if he was Supe, who knew how old he really was? And that was the second thing: Supe, he was. I could tell right off that he wasn't human. This dude had some seriously powerful energy rolling off of him.
Even I, about as headblind as you could get for someone half-Fae, could feel it. I'm Menolly D'Artigo. And you are? Compared to my five-one, he seemed tall.
But I could take him out without blinking an eye. One of the perks of being a vampire: exceptional strength that belied any lack of visible force. Motioning him to a chair, I hopped up to sit on the corner of my desk.