Page 99 of Kiss of Wrath

“So, what’s the plan?”

“The plan was . . . is . . . to kill you and get back all the things I’m entitled to. Money, house, car . . . a Lexus, ferchrissake.”

“The Lexus doesn’t belong to me.”

“Huh?”

“It belongs to my . . . um, friend, Mordr.”

“Whatever! The house does. You stole my house and bought this house so, technically, it belongs to me.”

How could you reason with such illogic?

“So, after you get rid of me, what about Linda?”

Linda turned in her arms and smiled. “Hi, Daddy.”

Roger groaned. “The kid was never supposed to be involved. Clarence was going to gain me entry to your house. I was gonna kill you and Clarence, then go into hiding for a couple weeks, then come claim my ‘inheritance.’ But I never counted on those . . . those . . . things arriving. I knew there was something strange about George and Ginette, but . . .” He shivered with revulsion.

“You can’t kill me now,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Because Linda recognizes you—” She cut herself off when she realized that she was pointing out to this madman that if he offed her, he would have to do the same to his own daughter. And he was just deranged enough to do it.

Soon Roger pulled onto a side street in Vegas in front of Luigi’s Pizza Parlor, then he went around to an alley behind the shop.

“We’re stopping for pizza?” she asked incredulously. “I’ll have sausage and mushroom.” Her attempt at humor fell flat.

“No food, bitch. We’re going to the apartment upstairs. And here’s the deal. You come voluntarily and quietly or I take Linda, and you don’t want to know what I will do with her, daughter or not.”

Holding Linda’s hand, Miranda followed Roger up the back stairs to the apartment above the shop, which was permeated with the scent of tomato sauce and cheese and baked crusts. To her surprise, there was another coconspirator in this crime spree.

A bleached blond woman wearing a short skirt, and no underwear, had her feet propped on the coffee table, knees widespread, and was painting her toenails a flaming red.

“We have company, Carlotta,” Roger said. “Where are those velvet handcuffs I bought you yesterday?”

Carlotta summed the situation up perfectly. “Oh shit!”

Seventeen

Even the mighty do fall . . .

By ten p.m. nets of vangels were covering the cities of Las Vegas, Reno, Monaco, and Macau, trying to catch any Lucipires attempting to escape. And at the same time, walking the streets and strolling the casinos, looking for sinners about to be taken who might be up for redemption. All of this needed to be done with as much secrecy as possible.

It wasn’t a perfect plan, and many of the Lucipires would escape to wreak more havoc in other places, or even back to casino cities in the future. But still, Mordr estimated that many hundreds of them would meet their doom.

He and Vikar were heading the Las Vegas operation with two hundred vangel soldiers. Ivak and Harek were in Reno, Sigurd and Cnut in Macau, and Trond in Monaco, with similar contingents of vangels working under them.

With the special secure cell phone to his ear, the one only vangels could transmit on, Mordr waited for Vikar’s signal to begin. With a slash of his arm downward, Vikar teletransported to the far side of the city, while Mordr relayed directions to his brothers and then began his own battles. Bloody pandemonium ensued, or you could say slimy pandemonium.

Even after all these years, it was intimidating sometimes for Mordr when he first came upon a Lucie in full demonoid form. Often heads taller than his six foot four, strong as drukkinn dragons, stinking like rotten eggs, whipping their massive tails, and waving their claw-like fists.

Vikings were not happy at all with their fangs, but imagine how horrible it would have been if Michael had given them these other beastly attributes as well. And Michael could have done it, too, not having a particular liking for Vikings as a whole.

Mordr, along with six of his best fighters, swooped down to the Strip and the hotel where Jasper and his mung assistant Beltane were supposed to be staying. He caught them leaving the penthouse suite with an entourage of twenty or so hordlings and imps who kept bumping into one another, creating chaos. Jasper must be overconfident to have no powerful haakai with him or more mungs.

He did have in hand an unsuspecting call girl. Well, unsuspecting but not innocent. The woman headed a notorious agency that catered to perverted tastes. She no doubt thought the designer suits Jasper and Beltane wore translated to a ticket for her to international wealth and travel, where in fact her ticket would be to Horror and a life far worse than that she inflicted on the women who worked for her.