When Grandmother Adolpha summoned the family to her house for the holidays, Anna was pissed. Two weeks before Christmas. How was she going to find decent airfare from New York to Germany? She would be booking smack in the middle of the blackout dates, not to mention fighting the nor’easter barreling down the coast from Canada.
         Plus, her birthday was next week, the big 4-0, and she already had plans. 
         She didn’t know a soul in Germany. In fact, she didn’t even know her grandmother. Anna had only been in her proximity on one occasion: the hour of her birth. One glimpse had apparently been enough. When the old woman touched her face, infant Anna had screamed like the Goddess Hel herself had marked her. Gran Adolpha sped away from the crib in a black limo, her brother later told her, and  never visited again.
        But Anna knew she would go.  Their family Matriarch rarely made a request, and when she did it, it wasn’t really a request. Anna’s mother had been dead thirteen years, and her grandmother was exceedingly rich. She lived about 20 miles, as the crow flies, from Buhlerhohe, in a great stone chateau tucked into the middle of the Black Forest. And one day, every considerable thing Nana possessed would pass to Anna and her brother, providing they didn’t do anything to get on the
imperious old woman’s bad side. 
        Three days later Anna was in a cab on her way to JFK Airport in a snowstorm. In the twilight winter, the trees lining Central Park had turned to crystal candelabra under the street lights.  The car tires crunched on the snowy road. She rolled down her window and exhaled, her breath trailing like steam. The frigid, clean air exhilarated Anna and she began to forget she had not wanted to come. She pulled her scarlet cashmere coat collar up around her neck and glanced at the time up on her cell phone, willing the cabbie to go faster.
       “But I’m only five minutes late.”   
       “I’m sorry, the ticket agent answered, a little testy. 
       “But the roads were a mess,” Anna wailed. “Can’t you make an exception for bad weather?” 
       The agent looked over Anna's shoulder at the blizzard outside and frowned.  "I wonder how bad the roads will be by the time shift ends at midnight," she griped to the agent at the next station.
       "Excuse  me," Anna snapped. "Just what am I supposed to do now?"
       “Sorry,” the agent said again, but Anna knew she wasn't. The wretched woman would probably kill to spend Christmas in Europe, but what were the chances for an airline employee flying standby?  
        The agent's fingers tap, tap, tapped on her computer. “I can get you on the 7:00a.m. flight." She looked up at Anna. "Be here early,” the agent said. "I would suggest around 4:30."
        Anna jerked her suitcase off the check-in belt and snapped the handle up so hard it jammed. The agent’s amused smile as she stomped off made her even madder. She stood for a moment by the glass-paned wall of the terminal, watching the snow. It was coming down harder now. Going home wasn’t an option.
        Now Anna had nothing but time.
       “Dinner,’ she thought. “And a beer. Or three.” 
        The closest lounge serving food, just outside the security check-in, was nearly full, but Anna managed to find a tiny table with two chairs. She wedged herself in against the wall so she could face the bustling terminal, and draped her coat across the spare chair, just in case. She ordered a steak, “as rare as you can make it legally,” and a Guinness. “Where did that come from,” she wondered  aloud. Normally she ate her steak cooked medium. "Maybe it's because I'm becoming a cougar." She giggled.  
                                     
* * * * *
        “Are you stranded?”
        Rudi smiled down at the woman, doing his best to look friendly and non-threatening.
        She was a looker, late thirties, early forties maybe, with a grey, well-tailored suit and a red coat that looked like cashmere, draped over the chair next to her.  She had great legs in sleek black stiletto pumps. He’d never figured
out how a woman could walk in those spindly high heels, but what they did to calves was worth it.
        She didn’t answer, just lowered her beer glass and looked him up and down. Her eyes were golden, like a cat.
        The lounge was packed, lots of flights delayed and cancelled, lots of stranded passengers. His opening had been a calculated guess. He smiled again, and gestured to the seat with the coat. “There’s no place else to sit. May I join you? Buy you a drink?” 
       It was true, any seat not filled by a human was littered with suitcases, backpacks, and winter coats, a noisy zoo. He had to
lean in closer to her to talk. 
        She stood up and pulled her coat from the chair back to her lap. “Misery loves a drinking partner.” Finally she smiled back, her eyebrows formed into a well-manicured arch. Definitely forty, but she was wearing her years well, so Rudi wasted no time accepting her invitation. The suit acted as a camouflage, he realized. Lots of women dress to accentuate their best features and to hide their flaws. She, on the other hand, felt no need to show off her qualities. But he wasn’t fooled. You can’t hide a nice, rounded but firm ass. 
        He sat down and extended a hand. “Rudi. Rudi Wulf.” 
        She seemed amused. That smile again, bigger this time. She had such even white teeth.  “Suzi Channing.” She clasped his hand. Hers was cool and smooth, her nails a pearly black, the tips not too long, but not short either. Rudi just knew she would be waxed and sweet-smelling under that conservative little suit. 
        The waitress dropped a menu on the table, and Rudi looked at the woman questioningly. She shook her head. “I’ve already eaten, but please, feel free.” 
        He calculated the amount of money in his wallet. Couldn’t use the credit cards, they were already maxed out. He decided to gamble on her hospitality and ordered a side of French fries and beer from the tap. “Where are you headed to for the holidays?”
       “London,” she murmured.
       “Hellava lot more interesting than Detroit,” Rudi said.
       “Are you married Rudi?” 
       “No. Unfortunately I’m married to my work. A woman requires, no deserves, time and attention.” And he sure hadn’t been willing to give his attention to that nag he’d had to marry, knocked up with his kid. But that was behind him now. He was good at leaving things behind, even the child support payments. Catch me if you can, bitch.  He licked his lips. “But I’m sure a beautiful woman like you has someone waiting at home.” 
        Anna, aka Suzi, shook her head slowly. “Nope. Nada.”
        The waitress handed the meal ticket to Rudi, but Anna put her hand on his and stopped him. “Let me.” She slowly slid the ticket from between his fingers.
        “But.” Rudi grinned. “How will I have a chance to pay you back?”
        “There are ways you could pay me back if you put your mind to it.” She didn’t lower her gaze, or flinch, or even give him a knowing, lewd look. She just picked up her  bag and laid some bills on the table. “What do you think?”
         “I think I want to kiss you,” Rudi answered, before he realized the words were out of his mouth.
         “Do you usually ask first?”
         “No.” In fact, Rudi never asked first. Instead, he usually made girls forget their better instincts and fine training by biting them with tender persistence at the base of their skull, just where the hairline grew in downy wisps. Girls were
like kittens in this way, if you got them right at the nape of their neck they went limp. Then he would whisper his suggestions, the things they would do together, the exquisite dark explorations for which he would be their willing guide.
         But not Suzi. She just got up, pulled out the handle of her suitcase, and headed for the parking garage exit. Rudi grabbed his small bag and followed her, wheels thrumming along the waxed floor.
          In the garage, neither of them said a word. Hell, Rudi could barely look at her, until he lagged behind a bit and began watching her ass. Immediately he was envisioning her skirt above her waist.
         The garage was kinda shabby and smelled of exhaust, but he didn’t care. She pulled him into a maintenance alcove and laid her suitcase on its side so they wouldn’t be on the floor. Then she backed away and began pulling her clothes off.
        Rudi kept his eyes on her body and tried to get his pants off without tripping. When she lowered herself onto the prone suitcase and closed her eyes, the blood throbbed to his groin. Her face looked young as a child’s, the closed eyelids nearly translucent.  Her shirt was loose at the top, and her bosom was visible where her breasts parted, an intimate view. He looked for a long moment before lowering himself onto her.
        She licked his neck, and her warm breath raised goose bumps. Ten seconds later, a nip, then a harder one. When the pain did begin, Rudi was unable to scream because blood was clogging his throat, but he did his best.
        The final thing he saw through the haze of his own blood and the tears of agony, were golden eyes, gleaming coolly back at him.
        Anna stroked his skin and it was wet with blood. She found the crimson on the white of his flesh fascinating. Her hand was red. She licked it and the taste fizzled through her, as if tiny bubbles went popping all the way down inside her from her mouth to her knees.
       She wiped her hands and mouth on his shirt and stuffed it into his suitcase, which she tossed in a dumpster on the way inside. “Just about time to check in,” she mused in the restroom, picking her incisor with a manicured nail.
“Good thing I packed a toothbrush.”