Page 102 of Kiss of Wrath

The wrath of God . . . um, an archangel . . .

To Mordr’s chagrin, it was not he who went to rescue Miranda and Linda.

Just as he was arming himself and preparing to go out to the Lexus parked in Miranda’s garage, Mordr heard a familiar voice yell, “Mordr Sigurdsson!”

Mordr stopped in his tracks and waited. He didn’t have long to wait.

Michael appeared in a puff of feathers. He hadn’t even bothered to change from his heavenly robes. His fury was obvious, from his glaring face to his quivering wings.

Stepping back into the kitchen to make room for the archangel, Mordr said, before he lost his nerve, “I must go to rescue Miranda and the child.”

“You must, you must,” Michael mocked. “Thou must obey my orders, in case you have forgotten, Viking. Ivak has already been sent to take care of them. You and I have our own business to attend to.”

Uh-oh!

“What have you to report on the casino mission? Have you wiped out all the Lucipires?”

“Me? Personally?”

“Do not be flip with me, Viking. Is Jasper gone and condemned to shoveling coal for Satan’s fires?”

“No. As far as I know, he is back at Horror, planning new evil deeds.”

“As far as you know?” Michael mocked, walking about the kitchen, idly picking up and examining various objects. A bottled water. The can opener. A wooden block of steak knives. The coffeemaker, which he sniffed with distaste. “As far as you know,” he repeated.

“I have been rather . . . indisposed.” Mordr felt his face heat at his choice of such as weakling word.

Michael arched his brows. “Really?” He pointed a forefinger at Mordr’s shoulder.

The sling fell off and the persistent ache was gone. Rolling his shoulder, Mordr realized that the wound was healed. “Thank you.”

“I do not need or want thy thanks. How many Lucipires were destroyed in the casino mission?”

“Five hundred and fifty, I have been told,” Mordr answered.

“And how many human sinners were added to Jasper’s ranks?”

Mordr saw where this was going now. “As many as a thousand,” he admitted.

Michael pretended to be counting on his fingers and came up with a net gain for the bad guys of “Four hundred and fifty!” The archangel shook his head from side to side with apparent disgust. “And do you consider that a successful mission?”

Mordr was about to utter that modern phrase, “Win some, lose some,” or to remind Michael that his mission had been to protect Miranda and the children, not the casino project. But look how that turned out! Linda and Miranda were both missing! In the end, he decided discretion might be called for. He opted for silence.

“Is it possible you were distracted during this mission?”

“What?” One of the worst things about talking with Michael was how his conversations changed direction so rapidly. A tactic designed to put the other person at unease. Mordr was definitely uneasy now.

“What have you done, Mordr?” Mordr knew that Michael was no longer talking about the mission, evidenced by his next question, “Have you been sinning?”

Mordr didn’t even bother to deny the charge, although his lovemaking with Miranda had not felt like sinning.

“Excuses!” Michael said, reading his mind.

Mordr would have to be careful about that.

“Did I not tell you and your brothers that there would be no more fornication? Did I not forbid any more relationships with humans? Did I not warn you of the consequences? Did you think you were the exception?”

Mordr bowed his head, then raised his chin. “I was dark and empty for so long. I tried to avoid the temptation, but I was weak. In truth, I cannot regret having loved Miranda. Still love Miranda,” he amended.