Page 91 of Kiss of Wrath

“I know,” Ivak said.

“Congratulations,” Zeb said to Ivak with a decided glint of envy in his eyes. Rumor was that the former Hebrew Roman soldier—and wasn’t that a contradiction in terms?—had lost several children in his human life. Like Mordr.

Leave it to Trond to not drop the subject. “Mordr has five children now, did you know that, Zeb?”

“No!” Zeb appeared shocked. He knew Mordr’s history well.

“They are not my children. They are the children I was sent here to protect.” Mordr’s explanation sounded weak even to his own ears.

Just then a female voice could be heard calling out from the stairway, “Mordr? Are you down here?”

Mordr put his face in his hands, knowing what was to come.

Four beaming faces, no, five, including Zeb’s, turned to the doorway where Miranda soon stood, wearing naught but his “Vikings Rule” T-shirt, which extended only to mid-thigh. Her red hair was wild and sex-mussed. Her lips appeared bruised and ripe from kissing. The sex flush remained on her face and neck. He hadn’t fed on her, but she had the imprint of his fangs on her neck, nonetheless. She had a suck mark on the inside of one knee. She was Playboy Bunny of the Year, Bimbo Barbie, and Male Fantasy Number One, all in one neat come-to-bed-lover package.

“There is a God,” Zeb said into the stunned silence.

“Amen!” the rest of them concurred. Except Mordr. He was speechless.

And that wasn’t the worst thing.

The motion detectors caused all the outdoor lights to go on suddenly, followed by the ringing of the doorbell. At four a.m.!

“It wouldn’t be a Lucie,” Zeb told them quickly. “We don’t announce ourselves with doorbells or knocking or other civilized greetings.”

Miranda gasped. By use of the word we, Zeb had outed himself as Lucipire.

“Roger wouldn’t come knocking at four a.m., either,” Mordr concluded, “unless he’s a total idiot.”

“He is an idiot,” Miranda said, and with no sense at all when it came to her safety, headed back down the hallway toward the front door. Mordr practically tripped over his feet racing after her, with his brothers and a demon vampire close on his heels. Ruff shuffled along after them, bringing up the rear reluctantly, giving only an occasional halfhearted bark. The dog obviously did not like having his sleep interrupted.

“You are going to give me a heart attack.” Mordr hauled Miranda back with a hand on her upper arm just before she reached the door. Pushing her behind him, he gazed through the peephole, then cursed, “What a dragon fuck this is turning out to be!”

“Swear jar!” Harek said behind him.

“What’s a swear jar?” Ivak wanted to know.

“Ruff!” Ruff said.

“Would you all shut up?” This from Miranda, who surprised them all.

“Ruff, ruff, ruff!”

“Somebody grab the dog by his collar before he bites one of you by mistake.” Mordr was already undoing the dead bolts and high-tech locking systems on the door. Before he opened the door, he turned to the others and said, “I forewarn you all. Do not make rash judgments about what . . . who you are about to meet.”

The door swung open and there stood a six foot two male in a red spandex miniskirt, hooker high heels, huge fake boobs, a blond wig, false eyelashes, and siren-red lipstick. “Hey, Mordr,” Jack Trixson said in a deep male voice. “Just finished working and was passing by in the neighborhood, saw your lights on, and thought I’d drop by.”

“I forgot you lived in the neighborhood,” Mordr said dumbly.

Jack, his square jaw gaping with amazement, was enjoying his first view of Miranda the Sex Wench as she stepped around him. That, combined with five big Vikings and an equally big demon, must have appeared like an orgy. In fact, Jack said, “I didn’t mean to interrupt your party.”

His brothers and Zeb were enjoying this scene and his discomfort immensely. Ruff was just sniffing the newcomer.

“I cannot wait to tell Vikar,” Harek hooted.

“Forget Vikar. I cannot wait to tell all of vangeldom about Mordr’s unusual friend,” Ivak said. Then he addressed Jack, “No offense, but you have to know our brother Mordr to understand how funny this is.”

“Mike must be having a coronary,” Cnut contributed.