Page 52 of The Devil's Viking

When the couple approached, she paused and they all exchanged a few words. Whatever it was that the man said to her, it was clearly hilarious, because she threw back her head and she laughed. An open, genuine, full-bodylaughthat made the poisonous hatred in Michael’s stomach curl and writhe and burn. Who thehelldid she think she was, laughing after the way that she humiliated her Master?

She would pay. Michael would make sure of it.

“So we know she’s here,” Zachariah said as the couple went inside and Iris continued shaking the mat. “And we also know that she’s not exactly cowering in a room somewhere: she’s out and about.”

“And she’s alone,” Michael pointed out. “At least sometimes.”

“But she’s still in public view, in plain sight of all the other businesses and the road.” Zachariah sucked on his teeth in that incredibly annoying way that he had and which drove Michael crazy. He’d been listening to it for years now, and he was ready to snap, being trapped in a vehicle with it for days on end. “We need to see if she’s ever anywhere more secluded.”

“Or if she’s out here at a less busy time,” Michael offered. “Maybe early before things open, or maybe late when there’s no visibility.”

“Hmmmm.” Zachariah nodded. “We’ll take it in shifts from now on. Twelve hours each, so one of us is always watching the doors and the lot – if she steps foot outside alone for even one minute, we won’t miss it and we can move.”

“Understood.”

“And for now Master needs to know that she’s here.”

Michael already had his cell out. “I’ll call him.”

“Like hell you will,” Zachariah retorted. “That’s my job as Right-Guardian. Know your place and be happy to stay there.”

Stung and angry, Michael put his phone back in his pocket, watched Zachariah pull his out with a mean little grin. He hated this motherfucker, hated that he wore the golden wings, hated that he bullied and berated every Guardian under him while kissing Master’s ass at every opportunity.

As he listened to Zachariah tell Master the news in a deferential, respectful voice, an idea began to take form in Michael’s head.

I can get away with it, absolutely.

I mean, who at the Garden would take her word over mine? Nobody, that’s who… especially not Master.

And so Michael began to plan his triumphant, exalted return to his Master.

**

Walton, Utah

Roadrunners Bar

“OK, man,” Drake said to his brother. “Time to flip.”

Ice watched Dux retrieve a quarter from his jeans pocket, and he shook his head.

“You’rereallygoing to flip for who gets to ask the cop out?” Ice said; he knew that he shouldn’t be surprised by the twins’ shenanigans, but he still found himself caught out once in a while by them. “That’show you’re going to decide?”

“You got a better way?” Dux asked him brightly. “I mean, let’s face it: with all things being equal –”

“Almostall things,” Drake butted in. “I have a slight advantage inonearea.”

“Bullshit,” Dux rejoined. “We’re identical, dear brother o’ mine, and that’s inallthings, even that one. You know that I know that – and so do a number ofveryhappy women.”

“Bah,” Ice huffed and took a gulp of beer. “Everything always comes down to your dicks, doesn’t it?”

“Isthere anything else?” Dux asked him, his dark-blue eyes deadly serious. “And as long as we’re talking about happy women… is there a Mrs. Ice lurking somewhere?”

“What?”

“Listen, man,” Drake said. “We’ve known you for thirteen years, and in that time, we have never – and I mean not once – seen you with a woman other than Vixen for a quickie in the crash room, andthathappened twice. So we figure that either –”

“You’re not into relationships,” Dux chimed in. “Or –”

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