Page 53 of Kiss of Wrath

“Too bad we vangels cannot just kill bad people.” This from Cnut. “Instead, we must at least attempt to save them from their own evil inclinations.”

Just then, there was a light knock on the door.

They all stood.

It was Maggie, who glanced up, up, up at them, and blinked behind her little glasses. Not a bit of fear, despite their much larger size. She carried a tray with three bottles of beer and a small bowl of hard pretzels. “Aunt Mir said you might like some refreshment before dinner. We’re eating in a half hour. And she said to ask if your brothers will be staying for dinner.”

“No,” Mordr said, taking the tray from her and setting it on a low table.

“Yes,” Harek and Cnut said at the same time.

“Good. We’re having pot roast and homemade bread and apple pie for dessert. Mordr made it.” Maggie beamed at Mordr, as if he should be thankful that she had bragged on him.

Two sets of Viking eyes went wide and turned with surprise to Mordr.

He felt like a total halfbrain. Viking warriors did not cook.

“Introduce us, Mordr,” Harek encouraged.

“I forgot that you are not acquainted with Maggie, or the other children.”

“Yes, we would like to meet all the children. Five, did you say?” Cnut was grinning like a drukkinn boar.

“These are my brothers Cnut and Harek,” he told Maggie. To Harek and Cnut, he said, “And this is Margaret, or Maggie, Jessup, the oldest of the children.”

Maggie pushed her glasses up higher on her nose, then walked over big as you please and shook the hands of Cnut and then Harek, both of whom were clearly amused. “Pleased to meet you,” she said to each of them.

Mordr felt a swell of misplaced pride at her bravery and good manners, immediately followed by a rush of blood to his head, causing him to feel faint. He held on to the back of a chair to steady himself. All because of the quickly shuttered question in his mind of whether his Kata would be like this had she lived to ten years and more.

Cnut and Harek gazed at him with concern.

And Maggie, to his shock, told them, “It’s all right. He gets like this once in a while when he’s around us kids. It passes.”

“Like gas?” Cnut murmured under his breath.

Mordr shot him a glance of warning.

Maggie shifted from foot to foot, and Mordr asked her, “Was there something else?”

“We were wondering if you all would like to play croquet with us . . . until dinner.” Maggie’s little face reddened, a perfect match to her hair, which curled wildly down to her shoulders, a trait she shared with her aunt.

“We’ll be out in a few minutes, sweetling,” he said, walking over to pat her on the shoulder and open the door for her, a clear hint that they wanted privacy.

Instead of being insulted, Maggie’s green eyes filled with tears and she said in a hushed whisper, “You called me sweetling.”

“I did?” Mordr was surprised at himself.

“I like it.” Embarrassed, she scurried away.

When he turned back to his brothers, they were both grinning, again. And he knew why. “It was a slip of the tongue.”

They all sat back down, sipping at their cold beers and crunching on the rock-hard pretzels. A person could break a tooth . . . uh, fang.

“I assume you want me to look over the house and property to check for any weakness in security,” Cnut said.

He’d already sent Cnut pictures and details, but an on-site inspection would be even better. “Yes. That is why you are staying for dinner, is it not?”

“Hell, no!” Cnut said. “I would not miss a meal cooked by a Viking berserker.”