Page 80 of Kiss of Wrath

Holy moly! He’s gone from Mr. Grim Reaper to Flirty Fred. Did someone give him a happy pill?

“I’m havin’ pancakes. Mordr is havin’ the Big, Deluxe, Super-Duper Breakfast ’cause he’s so hungry he could eat a bear, and he did one time. Eat a bear. It tasted gross. He has a big tummy an’ it gets so empty sometimes they kin hear the rumbles for miles. Some folks think it’s thunder. Isn’t that silly?” She gazed up at Mordr for his approval.

He nodded and motioned with his head for Miranda to get a cup of coffee from the machine he’d already started. Just for her? Must be since he didn’t particularly like the “bitter brew” himself. As she walked into the room he studied her appearance and made a mock gesture of dismay, forearm to forehead, “Oh no! Another bow!”

She glanced down to see the belt of her terry-cloth robe tied at her waist with a bow. It was the least sexy garment she could imagine, but he was looking at her like she was sex on a stick. “Puh-leeze!” she said, and took her first sip of the “bitter brew.” And, boy, was it bitter! He must have used double the amount of coffee grounds needed. She tried her best not to grimace.

“And how many sheep had to die for your feet to be shod?

“An animal rights activist, are you now?” She knew perfectly well that he was a meat eater and had been a hunter, in his time. His time? Oh Lord, she didn’t want to think about that. “Just for the record, these are made of fake sheepskin.”

He grinned. He’d been teasing her. Would wonders never cease?

“Can we talk yet?” one of the boys yelled from the den.

Maggie walked in and sat down at the table, figuring she wasn’t the one who talked too much and therefore didn’t fall under the zipped lips threat. She had braided her long red hair into a single braid down her back and wore a clean tank top with Bermudas. Linda sported a braid, too. One blond braid on each side of her freckled face. She wore the new shorts set Miranda had bought on sale last month.

Did Mordr help them do all this? Even the hair braiding?

Her heart melted just a little bit more.

Just then all three boys came skidding into the kitchen, each trying to talk over the other.

“I’m the winner. I’m the winner,” Sam proclaimed. “I bet Ben that I could be quiet the longest. And I was. Thirty-three whole minutes.”

“I was quiet just as long as you were,” Ben contended.

“No, you weren’t. You said, ‘Holy shit’ when Larry let loose a smeller feller.”

“I did not,” Larry protested. “It was just the sound of my bare legs on the leather couch. The smell came from your pickle breath.”

“Loser!”

“Dickhead!”

“Swear jar!”

Someone, possibly Larry, dug into a pocket, and the clink of a quarter could be heard in the jar.

“I’m hungry.”

“You ate a whole jar of pickles.”

“Did not!”

“Did so!”

“Sam has cards in his back pocket. He’s practicing so he can get up a game of poker with Johnny Severino. For money,” Maggie said, raising her chin sky-high with superiority.

“Tattletale!” Sam spat out, giving Maggie the evil eye.

“It was only gonna be for pennies,” Ben defended his twin.

“Unless Johnny wants to bet his new snake,” Larry amended. “It’s in an aquarium and everything. He feeds it mice.”

“You guys are dumber than dog poop,” Maggie proclaimed. “Aunt Mir would never let you bring a snake into the house.”

Which reminded Miranda of something. “Where’s Ruff?”