Page 97 of Kiss of Wrath

He kissed the top of her head. “Thank you, Miranda.”

“For what? Sex?”

He pinched her bottom. “That, too. But, no, I thank you for bringing me out of the dark. I will be forever grateful for that.”

“That sounds an awful lot like good-bye.”

“I must go soon,” he said, deliberately misinterpreting what she meant and rising from the bed.

“You will come back, won’t you?”

“Of course. My main mission here is incomplete. Roger is out there, a threat.”

Pride kept her from asking if that was the only reason. Pride kept her from telling him that she was falling in love with him, fearing it was one-sided. Pride had her reclipping her bra, adjusting her panties, and watching as he dressed quickly and efficiently. He unlocked a long, flat chest he’d fitted in the back of her closet and took out various weapons, which he placed in strategic pockets of his pants. A knife went into his boot. A gun in a shoulder holster. And that was just the arsenal on his person. When he put on his long cloak with the silver angel-wing epaulets, she couldn’t help but notice the firearms. A folding sword, throwing stars, a wicked-looking stick covered with sharp points. His fangs kept trying to emerge and she could see the constant effort he made to retract them until he was away from here.

If she hadn’t realized it before, she did now. He was facing danger tonight. Mortal danger. “Mordr, could you die while fighting the demon vampires?”

“Death holds no fear for me. If I ‘die,’ I will either recover or go to that holding place in the heavens for vangels, Tranquility, until the final reckoning. No, the biggest fear for a vangel is that we be taken by Jasper and that he attempt to torture us into turning to his side.” He shivered as he imagined some horror Miranda couldn’t possibly comprehend, but it must be bad.

“You look very pale, Mordr. And I notice you swaying on your feet occasionally. What’s wrong?”

He shrugged. “I need to feed, by saving some sinner or killing some Lucies. Never fear, I will have my strength back shortly.”

“But you shouldn’t be going into battle, or whatever this will be tonight, in a weakened state. It would make you vulnerable,” she guessed. Something occurred to her then. “Would it help if you took some of my blood?”

Mordr had been bent over, tying some kind of cross-gartered scabbard onto one thigh. His head shot up and he looked at her, his blue eyes more silvery gray than normal. She had noticed that they changed when he was aroused, but this was even more extreme. Must be some kind of bloodlust thing. “It would help, but I would not ask that of you.”

“I am offering,” she said with more outward bravery than she actually felt inside. Let’s face it. She had no idea what exactly she was offering.

He was about to refuse, she could tell, but she got up off the bed and walked over to him resolutely. Taking his face in her hands, she said, “Do what you need to do.”

He hesitated but then lifted her in his arms and carried her across the room. Sitting down in a chair with her on his lap, his cloak puddled out and around them onto the floor. “I will only take a little,” he said huskily.

“Will it hurt?”

A smile tried to emerge on his lips. His fangs were fully extended. “Just a pinch. Usually, when there is a blood giving between a man and a woman, it is done during the sex act.”

“What? No way are we having sex again! I couldn’t possibly . . .”

He did smile then, and that wonderful aura of scented fog surrounded them, sandalwood and limes. He sniffed the air, noticing the same thing, except what he would be smelling was lilies and cloves. The perfumes that life mates supposedly put forth, like pheromones. Good heavens! When did I become a believer?

He turned her head so that it was arched to one side, exposing the long sweep of neck from ear to shoulder. He licked her then, and it felt like warm oil heating the skin, tingling. When he put his mouth to her and bit into the skin, there was a pinch. But then, as he sucked softly, she felt a hot, gushing sensation through her veins, from that spot to all her extremities, lodging especially in her lips, and breasts, and hands and toes, and inside her most intimate place. The sensations were so intense she lost consciousness, but only for the few moments that Mordr sucked on her.

As he laid her back on the bed, she could see that Mordr’s skin tone had already changed to a healthy tan. His fangs had retracted and there was no blood that she could see in his mouth.

“I must go,” he said. Then he did the oddest, most touching thing. He placed a palm over his heart, then opened the hand, extending it toward her in an ancient gesture.

She must have fallen asleep then, for when she opened her eyes again, he was gone. She dressed in biking shorts and a long T-shirt, tying her hair back into a ponytail. The house was quiet when she went downstairs. In the kitchen, she was making herself a cup of herb tea when Darla came up from the basement. “Those kids are ruthless,” she said. “I lost five dollars to Sam over a stupid Ping-Pong game. I know, I know, I shouldn’t be encouraging his betting.”

Darla, bless her heart, was making an effort to divert her attention from Mordr’s departure and what it might mean, although Darla didn’t have a clue as to the extent of the danger he faced.

“What do you say that we have quick spaghetti for dinner?” Miranda asked. “There’s garlic toast in the freezer.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll make the salad.”

Just then there was a buzzing noise, indicating the motion detector had gone off outside, followed by the ringing of the doorbell. She and Darla exchanged worried glances. They both approached the front door with caution, Darla having grabbed her pistol from a purse above the fridge.

Looking through the peephole, Darla said with surprise, “It’s a policeman. Were you expecting one?”