Repent in Love (4 page)

“Shit, it’s never stopped any of us before.” Uri’s eyes went
to Ram, who nursed his bourbon. “Ask Goody Two-Shoes over there.”

“Don’t pull me into your bullshit. I’m having a nice evening
out with the boys.” Ram smiled.

“None of this would be happening if it wasn’t for Osce.” Uri
grimaced.

“Do not even think about it. Yael will cut off your balls and
hand them to Michael if you touch him again. And I’d probably help her.”

Uri knew when to leave well enough alone. Deciding to take
it out on Lucifer, he leveled his gaze on him. “You’re the one who needs to be
castrated for inflicting us with your damn demons.”

“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.”

“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
bartering 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.”