Page 106 of Kiss of Wrath

Tante Lulu put her hand on Gabrielle’s tummy. “Nope. Jist one, but he’s burstin’ ta come out. Mebbe t’day.”

“Really?” Gabrielle squeaked out.

“Did I say t’day? Could be t’morrow.” Tante Lulu winked at Miranda, causing one of her eyelashes to go lopsided. It was hard to tell whether the old lady’s wink meant she really did know when the baby would arrive, or she was just teasing.

Archangel's nose, out of joint . . .

Miranda hadn’t really taken the old lady seriously when she’d mentioned prayer as the solution to all her problems, but when she was back in the house in Las Vegas the next night, and the children were crying for Mordr, she told them, “Why don’t we pray? Ask God to bring him back?”

And that’s what they did. Every night. For seven nights. On the eighth day, after dropping off the kids at Jack Trixson’s house to swim in his pool with his children, Miranda came home to a too quiet house.

But then, she was surprised by what sounded like a flock of birds overheard. Pigeons? One of them dropped down onto to the patio with a grunt.

Going out carefully, she looked and saw the most amazing thing. A man—a beautiful man with long black hair, perfect skin, a fine build, wearing jeans and a pure white T-shirt—sitting at her patio table. There were feathers fluttering all around him.

“I do not like people going over my head. Let me tell you that right off. Usurping my authority is no way to get on my good side.”

“Huh?” she said, and sank down into the chair opposite him.

“Did you not encourage your children to pray to God to bring Mordr back to them?”

“Well, yes.”

“Did you not know that God cherishes little children? Did you not know that God would be touched by the pleas of his smallest creations?”

“Um. I never thought about it. Who are you anyway?”

“Michael.”

“Jeesh! Am I really sitting here talking to an angel? Not just any angel. The primo angel of all time.”

“Dost think flattery will gain thy ends?” he asked, but he was smiling.

There was nothing more glorious than an archangel smiling. The very air seemed to glow around him. Like a halo. Well, duh!

“Here’s the deal,” she said, figuring this was her one shot at getting Mordr back. “I love Mordr. I think he might love me. My children love him and need him. What’s so wrong with that?”

“What is wrong is that? Mordr is a vangel! He will probably go on being a vangel for centuries to come. You will never have children, that I guarantee. There will be no more mistakes like Ivak, not that babies are a mistake, but . . .” He scowled at her.

“I have five children. I don’t need any more.”

“And when they age and you do not?”

She gulped. She hadn’t thought of that. “I think I could live with that.”

Michael threw his arms out helplessly. “Well, ’tis out of my hands anyhow. God has spoken.”

“Huh?”

Talking with this archangel was like talking with Tante Lulu. A person wasn’t really sure what was being said but suspected it was important.

The archangel disappeared in a cloud of the most wonderful fragrance, unlike anything she had ever smelled. Not perfume precisely. Just heavenly air. She smiled at the fancifulness of her thought, then frowned. Now, she smelled sandalwood and lime.

Was that a sign of some sort?

Gamblers come in all sizes . . .

Harek was sitting at the high-stakes blackjack table in the Silver Nugget Casino.