Page 90 of Kiss of Wrath

But that wasn’t the important thing. Mordr went immediately alert. Why were his brothers here?

Ivak was the first to notice him. “Well, well, well. Someone has been getting some.”

“Some what?” Harek asked, and turned to see him. “Oh, that. He has been mooning over the lovely Miranda ever since he got here.”

“And she has red hair!” Cnut told them. “You all know how Mordr mislikes red hair on his wenches.”

“Apparently, not so much anymore if those scratch marks on his shoulders are any indication,” Ivak commented.

Mordr propped his sword against the wall and barely restrained himself from touching those scratches, with pleasure that his woman had marked him so. No, no, no, he thought, she is not my woman. Just my woman of the moment. Bloody hell, I am losing my mind.

“Why are your eyes crossed?” This from Harek, who had found his spare package of Oreos and was gobbling them up. Beer and Oreos . . . what a combination!

“So, have you regained your virility?” Trond wanted to know.

“I never lost my virility,” Mordr growled.

Four sets of eyebrows rose at that declaration.

“I just lost the inclination,” he contended, knowing how dumb the words sounded even before they left his mouth.

“And now you have it back?” Cnut inquired.

Mordr let a smile emerge slowly on his lips. That was all he would say on the matter.

“Praise God!” Ivak exclaimed. “The gruesome one is smiling!”

“We finally have our brother back,” Harek said, “and it only took one thousand, one hundred, and sixty-four years.”

“To Mordr!” Trond raised his beer bottle in the air. The others did likewise.

But then Cnut asked the all-important question, “What will Michael say?”

That put a damper on their moods. None of them liked to be in the archangel’s crosshairs.

“So, why are you all here?” Mordr asked.

A voice behind him said, “Jasper’s Sin City mission ends on Wednesday night with the culmination of the Perverts Anonymous convention.” It was Zebulan the Hebrew, their Lucie special agent.

Mordr was getting kind of tired of Miranda’s house being an open turnstile for his comrades. Locked doors and security alarms meant nothing to creatures who could teletransport. But Zeb was a friend. Of sorts. In any case, he always brought valuable information. He was not in his Lucipire persona tonight, but instead wore jeans, a white T-shirt, and his familiar Blue Devils baseball cap. Typical two-thousand-year-old twenty-first-century jock.

“Whatever you are going to do will have to be done before that time,” Zeb continued. “I have to say, this project for Jasper has been highly successful. He’s preening about, crowing like cock of the roost. Between Las Vegas, Reno, Macau, and Monaco, he’s had about six hundred kills. Dead humans now in Jasper’s killing jars. He’s expecting to hit a thousand over the next four days.”

This was bad. Very bad. Every new Lucipire was a challenge to the vangels. Jasper’s troops would far outnumber the vangels now. Michael would be livid. Hell and damnation! Mordr was livid himself.

They spent the next hour discussing a strategy for destroying the most Lucipires and saving as many redeemable sinners as possible. Mordr was especially talented at battle planning and they were all satisfied with the preparations when they were done.

“Well, I must be off. A devil’s work is never done,” Zeb remarked with dark humor as he stood and stretched. “By the by, you’re looking rather pale tonight, Mordr. Mayhap you need to come back into the city with me. I can point out the not-so-bad sinners if you are losing the touch.”

“Dost think so, Zeb?” Trond asked with tongue firmly planted in cheek. In other words, humor at Mordr’s expense. “I’m thinking he looks flushed.”

“And he smells like a flower in case anyone hasn’t noticed,” Ivak added.

“Shouldn’t you be home with your pregnant wife?” Mordr asked Ivak.

“She is not due yet, and she will let me know when I am needed.” Ivak grinned at Mordr. “Thank you for asking.”

“That is not why I asked,” Mordr grumbled.