Repent in Love (10 page)

Fire began to build deep in her body and it burned out of
control. It consumed Morta, sucked her in like a draft of air. Unable to fight
it, she succumbed to the blast of heat and let the orgasm spill from her with
force. “Uri, I’m coming.” Her pussy convulsed around his penis.

“Give it to me. Ahh, yes, I feel it. Squeeze my dick.” He
pushed his whole length in and stopped. Holding her still, he said, “Easy,
baby. I want you to come for me some more.” He pulled his rigid shaft out.
“Look at me.”

Morta lifted her body and turned around still on her knees.
Uri leaned back on his heels and spread his wings wide. The feathers shimmered
in the candle light.

He grabbed her waist and pulled her closer. “Spread your
knees.” Grasping her hips, he lifted her up with ease. “Wrap your legs around
me.”

She did, and Uri lowered her onto his erection. Inch by
inch. Mort had never felt anything quite like it. His cock continued to swell
as it sank into her canal. He stretched and filled her perfectly.

Lacing her arms around his neck, she brushed and teased his
wings and he trembled beneath her.

“More, touch me, baby, feel me, please.”

Using her hands, she stroked and brushed the downy feathers,
and the effect it had on him only served to give her more pleasure.

Gripping her hips, he slammed into her pussy hard.

“I can’t get enough of you.”

Morta sucked a lungful of air when his wings folded in and
enclosed her, holding her pressed tight against his body. His hips bucked
forward, slamming his cock back and forth in her channel as she hung from his
neck with her feet hooked behind his back.

Suddenly the room grew unbearably hot. Scared and unsure of
what was happening, Morta drew back to look at Uri. His body looked like blue
porcelain.

“Uri?”

Uri’s body flamed like a newly stoked furnace. He’d never
felt anything like it. But he couldn’t stop taking her. He pushed into her even
harder. His penis grew, became enormous inside Morta’s tight, hot pussy.

It was more than sex—
it was love
.

He made love to Morta.

Uri wanted to own her, keep her forever. Make her a part of
him.

Looking at his arms, he saw a blue light shimmer over his
skin. When he glanced at her, the fear in her eyes shook him to the core.

“Don’t be afraid. I’ll never hurt you, Mort.”

His mouth covered hers in a kiss that wouldn’t stop. His
tongue searched out the cold sweetness he needed. The heat of their bodies
threatened to devour him. Morta’s coolness was the only thing saving him. She
was everything to him now.

Morta could release him from the quagmire of doubt he’d
buried his belief in. Buried his soul in.

Uri felt the tide build in his stomach. His limbs tensed and
his sac tightened on the verge of bursting. Pulling his lips from hers, he
bellowed, “Fuck, I’m coming, Mort, hold me, baby.” Cum streamed into her pussy
and relief began to wash through and over his body. She bounced against him,
taking all he had to give. Her pussy throbbed around him as her second orgasm
cascaded over his cock. Like a waterfall, it brought an icy, cleansing feeling,
a feeling of being reborn.

He searched out her mouth again. A final burst of flame
engulfed his chest and before their lips met, blue fire seeped into her open
mouth. Uri continued to stroke in Morta’s pussy, emptying everything he was
into her. He held her encased in his wings for what seemed like eternity. He
was afraid to let her go.

Turning, he eased her legs from around his waist and laid
her spent body on the bed. “Please forgive me.”

“Uri…” Her brow knitted in confusion.

“Shh, go to sleep.” He used every ounce of power he had left
to put her to sleep.

Unable to deal with what had just happened, he needed some
time before he could answer any questions.

Tomorrow he’d have no choice.

Tonight he had to find out what he’d done.

Only one person could help him if it was what he suspected.

What had Ram said?

The answer lies in loving her.

Uri strode into the club and patrons scattered. His hair
whipped behind him as though a demon had hold of it and his blue eyes burned.
Stopping at the bar, he ordered a drink. Not that it would help much but he
needed to calm down a little. Downing what the bartender set in front of him,
he asked for another—with ice, lots of ice. His chest still felt tight and his
wings tingled with life though he held them anchored inside his body.
Shit,
what the fuck is this?

Peering around the bar, he caught sight of Ram and Luke in a
dark corner. Ram’s eyes lifted and pierced him with blue light. Luke whirled
around and fired the red look of hell in his direction.

Join us.
Ram’s voice in his head jolted him.

People cut a wide path for him as he stalked to the corner.
A light fixture popped over his head, sending a shower of sparks and glass down
on the table.

Everything stopped moving and he was unaware Luke stood
beside him until he said, “I’ll handle this.”

The sudden vacuum of air that surrounded them sucked
everything into its vortex, leaving no visible damage at all. The light
overhead twinkled on, and to everyone in the room it appeared as it had before
bursting. Everyone that is but the mystical beings of whom there were quite a
few. One vampyre in particular had followed Uri’s progress across the floor.
Uri delved into his mind, read his thoughts and was quickly pissed off. The
bloodless creep grasped his throat and choked on the bloodred spittle that
gurgled up his throat and dripped from the corners of his mouth.

That’s for biting the lady you’re going to take home. Be
nice or I’ll find you.

The creature wiped his mouth on his sleeve before he stood.
He didn’t look back as he left the club.

“You’re in a piss-poor mood. Was that really necessary?”
Ram’s words did nothing to settle him down. At least Luke had been smart enough
not to hang around.

“At least he won’t kill anyone tonight.” Uri’s breathing was
erratic as he flopped into a chair. “Ram…”

“Don’t say it.”

“I didn’t understand what was happening. It just poured out
of me. Damn, it was like nothing I’d ever felt before.” Uri looked up at the angel
of hope and saw the shadows of sorrow in his eyes. “I wanted to stop, but I
couldn’t.” His hand trembled as he waited for a response. “Chrissakes, Ram, say
something.”

“Michael and the Father’s biggest fear is the power you
would control by having access to the thread of death. You’ve not been known
for being…uh, rational most of the time.”

“Fuck you. Like you’ve been a model citizen or something.”

The temperature in the corner rose to an unbearable level
and Ramiel waved his hand through the air. It died down immediately and was
replaced with a filmy curtain that undulated before Uriel like a desert mirage.

“Bastard, you can still override me, and what is this?” He
waved through the light beams and the hollow sound of silence wrapped around
him. “Oh, so we won’t be heard. Damn, I didn’t think.”

“Unless you want to place Morta in Sam’s path, you better
start thinking.”

“You mean—”

“Yes, Sam can still ride roughshod over your sorry ass. For
now Marmaroth also has access to a higher power than you, me, and maybe Michael
because it involves the Fates.” Ram leaned toward him, his eyes swirling with
light. “Don’t endanger her life by letting her know what you have done.”

“You mean she won’t know we’ve meshed?”

“We still have more power than the Fates and now you’d
better use every ounce of it to keep it from Morta.” Ram pierced him with a
warning look, “She may not be too happy about this.”

“So what am I supposed to do? I can’t be without her.”

“We’ll figure it out together.” The angel smiled at him.
“Repenting without hope would mean very little in this troubled world and right
now that’s your saving grace.”

“Well, well, well. Look what we have here. How you boys
doing?” Samael had arrived unnoticed by either angel.

“We’re good, pull up a chair,” Ram said.

His voice remained even and betrayed nothing of what had
happened. Uri hoped, prayed silently, that he could do the same. All hell would
break out because he would turn loose every Nephilim in his power if the Grim
Reaper touched a hair on Morta’s head.

“Hey, man. No football game tonight?” Uri snapped his
fingers and refilled his glass.

Menacing laughter filled the air. “You sons of bitches are
something else.” Sam pulled a glass of clear, sparkling liquid from the air. “I
ain’t got a dog in this fight. All I’m due is one soul. And you still have some
time on that one.” He peered at Ram over the rim of his glass. When he shot a
look at Uri, Death’s eyes resembled a swirling silver pool. “The other things
you boys play with and conjure up are between you, Michael, and the Father.” He
drained the liquid from the glass and set it on the table. “Understand this—if
I’m sent for either of you, it won’t be personal.” He looked down at the table
and the empty glass and chuckled. “Damn, that water was good. I’m sure I’ll see
you later.” He stood and shimmered out of sight.

“Shit.” Uri wasn’t feeling very hopeful. “He knows.”

“Like he said, it’s not personal. Take it easy, man. So what
else is going on?”

Uri couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of
his mouth. “She’s going to decorate for me.”

“So you’re staying in your domain up there? That’s probably
wise.”

“With Marmaroth around, yes. Now I want her near Decima and
Nona. They’ll keep her safe.” That reminded him to ask Ram a question that had
been on his mind for a while. “What’s up with Dec and Michael?”

The gleam dancing in the angel of hope’s eyes spoke volumes.
“Nothing that I know of.”

“Would you tell me if you did?”

“Uri, don’t you have enough on your plate? Anyway, I figure
he’s entitled to a little fun too. Shit, we’re all fucked-up aren’t we? How
does God even stand us right now?”

“I don’t know.” Uri cocked his head to the side. “You knew
Marmaroth would take her?”

“Don’t move,” Ram said.

* * * * *

Watching Nona’s wheel incessantly spin threads of life
grated on her nerves. Mort shuddered as she tried to shake the feeling that
something bad was about to happen. She couldn’t stand the squeaking noise any
longer. “Why don’t you oil that decrepit piece of shit?”

The wheel came to a complete stop and her sister peered up
at her. “Are you feeling well, Morta?”

“I don’t know… Something isn’t right.” A deep sigh left her
calmer. “I’m sorry, I just feel unsettled. It’s like a black cloud is hanging
over my head.” A nervous laugh slipped out. “That’s such a human thing to say.
Nony, what’s happening to us all?”

“Things change everywhere. They must change here also for us
to continue to benefit mankind.”

“You sound hopeful.”

“I have faith.”

“I wish I had as much as you.”

Nona smiled at her. “Follow your heart, it’s strong and
true.”

Morta wished it were that easy. She’d feel so much better if
she could only see Uri and know that he was all right. Something had happened
last night, something she was unable to discuss with her sister. It didn’t
matter. She didn’t understand it herself; how could she explain it to anyone
else? “I wish it were that easy.” She nibbled at the tip of her fingernail.
“Tell me about Marmaroth.” Mort had to be careful and not make the questions
personal. Her sister would answer if it pertained to them all.

“There isn’t much to tell. God has always placed safeguards
in his plans for the universe. He knew these trying times would come.”

“Why was he given power over us?”

“Does it really matter? If it wasn’t him it would be someone
else.” Nony’s wheel squeaked back to life and threads were once again tied
together with her magic. “I think he’s rather dashing, don’t you?”

“Nony! He holds the power of life and death over us. How
could you think he’s anything other than a threat to our way of life?”

“Morta, I only commented on his looks.”

“Make sure it stays that way.” Somewhere in the mess of
twines were her and Uri’s threads. Why oh why couldn’t they be bound together?
The same feeling she’d had at the lingerie store came over her. Morta’s skin
prickled and grew warm.
Shit!
“Nony…”

“I feel it sister, Decima will arrive shortly. Together we
are stronger.”

“Ladies.”

Morta noticed Nona’s hands shake slightly. Her sister feared
nothing but the Lord. What was this? At least she found her voice, something Morta
couldn’t do.

“Marmaroth, welcome to our home. It’s been a long, long
time.”

His golden hair was pulled back into a severe plait and
showed the hard angles of his face. Today he wore black slacks with a white
shirt open to show a smattering of hair and myriad color lines crisscrossing
his muscular chest. Morta took in the fact that his dark blue eyes sparkled at
Nona while his lips curved in a sensuous smile of pleasure.

She was drawn to the latticework of lines on his torso and
wanted to see more. Mentally shaking herself, Mort tried unsuccessfully to
concentrate. Her sister Fate’s voice sounded far away.
What the hell?
Their
voices droned on and on but she couldn’t understand a word they said. Nona’s
cheeks were bright red. Where was Dec? She should have been here by now.

“Morta, last time we crossed paths, your lover wasn’t very
nice.”

He was talking to her and she needed to answer, needed to
pretend everything was normal.

Thank God Decima appeared. “Marmaroth, I see my sisters have
welcomed you to our home. It’s good of you to drop by,” she said.

Morta glared at the angel, acutely aware that although he
spoke to her, he remained focused on Nona, whose spinning wheel now stood
eerily silent.

“It’s always a pleasure to visit with three very lovely
women.” Finally he turned and pierced her and Decima with a strange look.

“How can we assist you?” Dec’s words hung in the air.

“This is a necessary visit, however, there’s no reason to be
so on edge.” He glared at Morta.

“What?” Mort’s fist clenched and her nails dug painfully
into her palms. The chill she released in the air gave away how tightly she was
wound.

“Michael has trained you well. Even as a small child you
were the frosty one.” He spun back to Nona, who didn’t divert her eyes.

What was going on with her sister and Marmaroth?

“Decima, you understand this must be?”

“What’s he talking about?” Morta’s skin grew a thin sheet of
ice. Flinching she looked at her hands and saw shards of ice forming at the
tips of her fingers.

“You’d be no match for me so don’t think about it.”

Nona stood and moved slowly around her wheel. Waving in the
air, she fashioned a loose black shirt shot through with silver threads and
said, “You will be safe. Wear this to keep warm.” She helped Morta don the
sparkling shirt and spun on her heels to look at the angel. “Touch a hair on
her head, harm her in any way, you will never see the light of day again.” Nona
touched the tips of her fingers to Marmaroth’s cheek. “She is my sister.”

He smiled at Nona, took her hand and kissed the very same
tips that had rested on his face. “I only need to talk with her alone.” He
jumped back and glared at Nona. “That wasn’t necessary.” Smoke drifted from his
lips. Still gazing at the Fate who spun life, he added. “I’ve always loved the
fire in your soul.”

Before Morta could move, she was whisked into a black hole
and carried through the air. She couldn’t see anything and her throat felt
constricted. She tried to scream but there was no sound. And there was nothing
when she reached with her mind for Uri.