“What is your problem? We were having a good time until you got here. I’m going to see if I can pick up some goodies for tonight.” Lucifer left their table.
“What a maudlin bunch.” Uri spun around at the sound of Sam’s voice. Death had his arms draped around two nice honeys. They were pure vamp.
Between Luke with his demons, and Gabriel and Ezekiel’s vampyres, it was a wonder man had managed to exist this long at all. Sometimes Uri felt he dished out forgiveness to the wrong bunch. Angels and their pathetic creations needed it more than anybody. The two creatures on Sam’s arms were exquisite and smelled like Heaven. Undead always carried such a sweet aroma. They’d probably just fed from some innocent human. Both women were just his type and days ago he’d have joined Sam. But Uri’s cock didn’t even twitch. Shit, this is bad.
“Sam, what’s up?” Ram asked.
Uri’s mind drifted to thoughts of Morta and how good she’d been. How soft her body was. He searched for her essence and stiffened. I’ll fucking kill him.
She was with Osce.
“You okay, bro?” Sam didn’t miss a damn thing.
“Screw you.” Heat flushed Uri’s face.
“Ahh, lovely Mort must not be sitting and waiting for you like a good little piece of tail should.”
“You know what, Sam, one day someone will take your head off with that—shit, where’s the scythe?” Taken aback by the absence of Sam’s tool, Uri forgot Morta for a moment.
“Hell, it ain’t an American Express Card. I do leave home without it. Occasionally.” Samael smiled wide.
Ram laughed outright. “You must have big plans tonight, Sam.”
“Well, my ladies wanted to see some of the country. Thought we might take in a little night skiing. You know, once they’re chilled, I’ll have to warm them up. Life’s a bitch, man. Work, work, work. Gotta go. I’ll see you guys around.”
Sam could vanish so quickly and quietly when he wanted to that Uri envied him. But he didn’t envy his job. Doling out repentance was one thing. Dragging souls to their final rest could get to you after a while.
That took his mind back to Morta. How did she feel being responsible for cutting life’s thread? Did it weigh on her? Damn, Uri hadn’t dwelled on that before. Of course it would burden her. Mort wasn’t as tough as she acted. How could he be insensitive to what she must go through each time she ended a life? That gave him an idea. Uri stood so fast the chair fell over. “I need to check on something. I’ll catch you later.”
Ram misread the look on his face. “Stay away from my domain. I mean it.”
Christ, he knows. “You know about the boy, don’t you?” Uri expected Yael to hold out a bit longer but he should have known better. Since Ram changed her, it was as if they had one mind.
“Just get yourself together because we will have to deal with that situation sooner or later.”
“I’m working on it. Thanks, Ram.”
“Go, you’re putting a damper on my night out.”
Chapter Four
“Osce’s bed not warm enough for you? Or wasn’t he man enough?” Morta hadn’t heard or felt Uri’s arrival. His eyes raked her naked body.
“I’m here, isn’t that what you wanted?” Morta had to be careful or he’d know exactly what she was up to. Getting angry would only make it more difficult.
“Yes, it’s exactly what I wanted.”
She watched him come toward the bed and her heart fluttered. One touch from him and Morta would be undone. His eyes brimmed with lust and she was positive hers matched. As he unbuttoned his shirt, her body began to tremble. Ridges of muscle bunched across his stomach. His slacks followed the shirt and she wondered why he didn’t use magic and get it over with. She couldn’t take the striptease. Hard thighs were level with her face as his erection bobbed in front of him. He seemed to revel in the fact that she had to watch him remove each piece.
He sat down and pulled her into his lap. This was not the Uri she knew. There was something different. Tenderness. Maybe she’d lost her mind. Unable to look at him, Mort buried her face against his chest. He stroked his hand down her body and drew a shudder from her.
“Uri—”
“No words, just let me hold you.”
He found her chin and turned her face, forcing her to look into his eyes. They were dark with mystery. When his lips pressed to hers, she gasped in surprise at how gentle he was with her. Kisses trailed down her neck and ended at her breast. His tongue snaked across one nipple and she melted. Teeth nibbled on a taut bud, raising her blood pressure.
Uri’s mouth finished its exploration and he lifted her from his lap. He placed her in bed, turning her so she rested on her stomach. Cool hands traced a path to her buttocks and down her thighs. “Tonight, I’ll take care of you.”
Suddenly something warm and silky poured over her back. “What are you doing?” she muttered.
“I want you to enjoy this.”
She did. Mort’s body no longer belonged to her. Uri owned it completely and she couldn’t stop him if she wanted to. The aroma of lavender and rain invaded her nostrils and mesmerized her. His sure hands smeared the scented oil over her shoulders and across her back. He lightly massaged it into her skin. Going lower, a finger trailed between her cheeks and pressed the rosette hidden there. “Oh God,” she groaned.
“Shh.” He drizzled more down her thighs. She couldn’t see where it came from but it felt divine. Taking deep breaths of air, Morta grew drowsy.
“You like this?”
“Mmm, yes.”
“Good.” His hands carried wetness to her calves and he kneaded the muscles until she wanted to cry. But he wasn’t done. Uri eased her body over so that she was lying on her back, and she felt warm fluid dribble over her breast. He rubbed it in and pinched her nipples to tortured peaks. He stroked down her stomach and stopped at her mound where he plied aromatic oil into her. Fingers thrust into her folds and prodded at her clit. Her thighs automatically clenched together, locking his wrist so he couldn’t move.
Placing the gleaming bottle of fragrant oil beside the bed, he used his hand to pry her legs apart. “No, honey.” The heat of more liquid ran over her thighs before she felt both hands stroke and play with the tight muscles there. It ran between her legs and was followed by Uri’s hands. His fingers performed magic as they covered and massaged her. She wanted this to last forever.
She tried but couldn’t open her eyes. “Uri, please.”
“I got you, babe. Just breathe.”
Morta inhaled the sweet smell far into her lungs as fingertips feathered their way back to her pussy but swept over it. She whimpered. They moved up her stomach and rested above her waist. His thumbs nudged at her hard nipples. When his hands left her, she quickly grew cold as ice.
His weight depressed the mattress and she was shocked he climbed over to the other side of the bed. He eased down and pulled her against him. Uri cradled Mort to his body and brought her ass tight against his throbbing penis. One arm wrapped her close and his hand covered her breast.
“Sleep, precious.” That was all he said.
“I can’t,” she murmured. “There are duties…” But Mort’s body felt leaden, her legs and arms like weights. What had he done to her? She understood the absence of fear—Uri had taken over her mind. She should be afraid, but Mort had never felt safer than she did right now.
“Whoever it is, they will wait happy they have a little bit longer in their world.”
“You don’t understand.” Threads of life begged to be severed. Some were tired of living, some deserved death. A cacophony of voices beckoned for release.
Then they all went silent.
“Rest, baby. Do it for me.” His lips brushed her temples and down her cheeks. He sucked her earlobes sending electric shocks between her legs.
What did I come here for? She couldn’t think straight with his arms tight around her, pulling her closer. Mort felt his hard cock press between the globes of her ass yet he didn’
t take her. Why?
She drifted away in his arms.
* * * * *
The night sky blazed with light as the fire raged out of control. Horses whinnied, animals scattered in every direction. Another deafening blast sent showers of sparks high into the air, igniting nearby trees and shrubs.
Shit.
“Don’t fucking move. I’ll be right back.” The voice of hope. No sooner did Ram vanish than Death appeared.
“Uri, have you gone absolutely insane?” Sam clamped his mouth shut.
“Hey, it got a little out of hand that’s all. I got this.” Ending the first few thousand lives tonight in his Fate’s place had been a piece of cake.
“Asshole, the wife and kids are still in there,” Sam growled. “You’re freaking lucky Ram got here. Michael’s—”
“Right behind you.” Michael seldom left Heaven anymore. If he was here, shit had hit the fan. “Where’s Morta?”
“Uhh…she’s resting.” Uri mumbled the rest, “At my place.”
He had left Morta asleep and thought he could handle cutting a few threads of life. How hard could it be, right? His last one wasn’t going so well. An abusive father and husband was slated to die in a simple barn fire. No other fatalities. His wife and kids were supposed to be visiting Granny. Why the fuck were they still here? How the hell did Morta keep track of all this shit? If he’d kept his mind on what he was doing instead of hurrying so he could crawl back into his bed and between her legs, he’d have done fine.
Michael sighed heavily. “Uri, it’s her duty. That is how she keeps track of it. What did you think you were doing, for goodness’ sake?” He turned to Sam, “Can you and Ram handle this?”
“Sure, get him out of my sight though. Right now he’s useless.” Sam didn’t stop there. “Damn good thing you’re not watching the kid’s soul, huh?” His mirrored eyes swirled like mercury.
“Then, pray tell, who is?” Michael’s eyes widened. “Never mind, I have a pretty good idea.”
Uri was swept up and carried above in a frozen cloud of air and his body dumped without ceremony into a chair in the angel general’s study. Better get a head start on his speech.
“Look, Michael before you say anything, let me explain.” His tongue tied and his brain picked then to shut down. Uri didn’t know where to start.
“I’m waiting.”
“She’s tired. You and Decima never let her take a break. Do you know how hard it is to sever someone’s life?”
“Well I haven’t done that in quite a while but I’m getting ready to find out.” Michael’s dark blue eyes pierced him like arrows.
“I just thought I’d give her a break, that’s all.” Uri had nothing else to say. It wouldn’t matter anyway. He’d pay for this fuckup, already was. It started hours ago when anguish penetrated his heart, which had grown heavier with each passing minute at ending so many lives. How did Morta live with it every day? Her heart must be heavy with misery.
“She’s the one who cuts life’s thread, Uriel. It’s what she does. The Father takes care of any residual pain involved and gives her solace. He does it in His way. You cannot interfere.” Michael’s chair thudded as he landed heavily in the seat.
Uri remained at a loss for words. Damn it to hell. How had it gotten this bad? He thought to win favor with Morta by giving her one night of peace but the fallout would last forever unless Ram had been in time. “It hurts her anyway, Michael, can’t you see that?”
Decima and Ram appeared in a whirlwind of confusion. Decima spoke first. “All is well with the wife and children. Thank God for Ramiel’s intervention.” She glared at Uri. “Where is my sister?”
“She’s in my domain.” Uri breathed a sigh of relief that the family had survived. Repentance was a damned easy job compared to delivering death. What he didn’t need at this precise moment—Morta stirring awake in his bed.
Shit.
* * * * *
Morta woke refreshed and happy. It took a minute to register where she was. Her eyes blinked rapidly to take in her surroundings. Hell and damnation. She’d spent all night at Uri’s place and couldn’t remember much else. There was one vivid memory: He hadn’t taken her. Not the way she wanted him to.
Whisking some clothes out of thin air, she hurried above.
Things were too quiet. She’d have to answer for slighting her duties but right now she didn’t want to face Decima. The fountain’s calming sound drew her to its edge where she stood and watched water cascade into the pool below.
“Don’t worry, sister, all is well.” She whipped around at Nona’s voice. “Your lover saw to your duties while you slept in his bed.” Instead of being joyful, her chuckle sounded ominous.
“What do you mean?” Sensing something horribly wrong, she asked, “How bad is it?” What had Uri done? Whatever it was, there would be hell to pay. Michael and Decima were probably together now.
Her jumbled thoughts carried her off on a hysterically silly tangent. She wondered why her sister Decima didn’t just jump the general’s bones and have done with it. Yeah, like that solves anything. It did bring a brief smile to her lips when her mind latched on to a vision of the stiffest Fate cutting loose for a change. Hiccups couldn’t hide the nervous laughter. Hell would freeze over first. Physically wrung out from recent events, and spending the night in Uri’s bed hadn’t helped, Mort bowed her head and sighed.
Might as well see Decima and get this over with.
Nona fell in step beside her. “She is disturbed. It seems Uri almost slaughtered a whole family trying to cut the ties of one abusive man. But not to worry, Ramiel saved the day.”
“Chrissakes.” Talking more to herself than Nona, “What has happened to us all? Why would he do that? I’m sure it was a mistake.” At least Mort hoped so.
“From what I understand he wanted to give you a break.”
“What?” Mort’s shrill voice overshadowed birds singing in the garden. Heavy footsteps garnered her attention.
Decima walked fast and with purpose toward her and Nona. This is it. There was no way to escape her now.
“Dec, let me explain—”
“There’s quite enough explanation being made to Michael. Go away, Morta. I dare not speak to you now.” She shooed Mort with a wave of her hand and brushed by her without a backward glance.
What could she do now? She wouldn’t get any more information out of Nona and she didn’t think visiting Michael would be the right thing to do. Though eventually, he’d call her.
Ram probably wouldn’t relish a visit either. That left Lucifer or Sam.
* * * * *
“Was I first or second on your list, babe?” Lucifer asked.
“Shut up, Luke.” Morta flopped into a chair. “It’s game time and I like my head attached to my body. You know how skittish Sam is when Dallas plays.”
“Don’t I know it. Something to drink?”
“Sure, bourbon, straight up. Make it a double.” Mort was in a funk. “Luke, why do we bother with pretending normalcy? What good does it do us?” She took a long swallow from her glass, which had appeared out of nowhere. Luke could be counted on to keep the magic going. “Weren’t we better off when we acted like heavenly beings and not humans?”
“You mean gather around fountains in flowing white robes, laughter tinkling through the air as cupids played harps?”
“Not necessarily that but, yes, that’s what I mean.”
“Let me think.” Luke’s smile left his face. “I do remember some of it. That wasn’t living, Mort. Trust me, we had a hard time relating to the very beings we were charged with assisting.” His lips curved at the corners again. “Yeah, I remember now—I got kicked out, and if memory serves me, you were all a prissy, stuck-up bunch.”
“So now we’re better at it simply because we pretend to live like humans?”
“Okay, you’re ignoring me so what do you really want to know?”
“How do you spend so much time alone? Doesn’t causing death or ba
rtering with souls bother you?” Sadness crept into Mort’s voice before she could hide it.
“You want to know why you can’t be with Uri.”
“Yes.”
“Let me give you an analogy.” Luke feigned thinking for a moment. “Hmm, a fox in the henhouse, does that work for you? After his performance last night, think bull in the china shop.” He stared right at her, his words growing serious, “There would be a definite conflict of interest, honey.”
“How? I don’t understand.”
“He’s charged with keeping Nephilim alive and out of trouble. They’re a deadly pack of creatures and I say that being friends with most of them. Uri has wished he could kill them too many times. Even angels who fathered the bastards want to see them dead and, babe, with your power—Uriel, the angel of repentance, could make that wish come true.” He turned from her and looked out the window of his earthly mansion in Florida. “They’re a horrible reminder of our past indiscretions. Biggest reason—Uri’s responsible for the key to the end of time.” He spun back to Mort. “I still don’t understand that because sometimes he’s more fucking reckless than I am.”
The latter still angered the devil. He’d always felt the key to unlock Hell’s door should be his. As always, the Father had been right. His decision to give this power to Uriel and place him in Hell provided necessary balance to just how many souls the devil could take without explicit permission.
“I’d never use my powers to assist in cutting threads if it wasn’t written.”
“Where were you last night, Mort?” His dark-blue eyes bored into her. “Sleeping, and under Uri’s power.”
“That was different; he took no innocents.” She hoped she spoke the truth. Now she’d find out.
“Thanks to Ram. Uri thought he helped you.” Luke grinned broadly. “Rumor has it, you needed rest. But you’re right; no one died who shouldn’t have. At least not this time.”
Morta felt Luke wanted to say something else to her but held back. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Do you know how Uri got that mark on his face?”
Repent in Love Page 4