Kiss of Pride

by Sandra Hill

  “I failed with Jasper,” Vikar confessed. “I had him in my hands and allowed him to escape.”

  “It was not Jasper’s time.”

  Just like that, Vikar was absolved of that particular guilt.

  Back to perusing his folder, Mike remarked, “Mostly, I am seeing venial sins. We are especially pleased with your mentoring of Armod. If it had not been for your most recent activity, I might even have said you could take a hundred years off your penance.”

  Uh-oh! He suspected what “recent activity” Mike referred to. Best not to volunteer any sins, though, just in case it was some other “recent activity.”

  Mike stared at Vikar then.

  Being stared at by St. Michael the Archangel was enough to cow the hardest warrior, but he prided himself on his brave demeanor. Oops, that pride thing again!

  Finally, Mike let out an exasperated exhale, and said, “What were you thinking?”

  “Um. What exactly are you referring to?”

  “Near-sex?”

  Vikar could feel himself blush. “I didn’t go all the way.”

  Mike laughed. The archangel actually laughed. Vikar hadn’t known he had it in him. “There is that, I suppose. But tell me, why? Why would you risk everything for a mere woman?”

  Mere woman? Has he never heard of equality of the sexes? It’s the twenty-first century!

  “It was an expression, Viking.”

  Vikar hated it when the archangel read his thoughts.

  “I repeat, why would you risk everything for this woman?”

  Vikar bristled. “Because I love her. Yes, I know that vangels are not permitted that luxury, but I cannot help myself. I love her.”

  “Vikar, Vikar, Vikar. Have you learned nothing?”

  Huh?

  “Why do you think you are here on earth?”

  “Punishment?”

  “Fool Viking!”

  “Fool Viking” was as much an insult to a Norseman as “silly Viking.” Vikar gritted his teeth before offering, “To do good?”

  “And how do you accomplish that?”

  “By killing Lucipires?”

  Mike shrugged. “All these things are means to an end. Do you not understand what God is all about? Why humans were ever put on earth?”

  All the fine hairs rose on Vikar’s body as he began to understand where Mike was going with this conversation. Could it really be as easy as that?

  “Love. God wants all his people to love,” Mike elaborated.

  “That kind of love?” Hope turned some men into pitiful creatures. For a certainty, Vikar felt pitiful at the moment.

  “All kinds of love. First, love of your Maker. But then love of family, friend, neighbor, enemy, and even that of man for his mate.”

  “Are you saying . . . ?”

  “No, Viking, I am not giving you permission to have carnal knowledge of a woman outside of marriage. And for what you have done thus far, consider twenty years of extra penance.”

  Only twenty years? Vikar nodded, but he was totally confused.

  “Let me ask you this, Viking . . . if I, on behalf of God, asked you to give up this woman, would you do so?”

  “I would,” Vikar answered without hesitation, “and, truth to tell, I would be thankful for the days I had with her. That does not mean I want to send her away. A sword to the heart it would be for me.”

  “Would you die for her? Would you give your life to save her?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  Mike smiled then, and the smile of an archangel was a most wondrous thing. Rare and splendorous. Like warm velvet to a cold human heart.

  What did it mean?

  “Your most grievous of the seven deadly sins is pride. A prideful man is often a narcissist. You were, for a certainty. Everything you did revolved around yourself and self-aggrandizement. True love means putting yourself aside and thinking of others first.”

  Vikar had never thought of his pride in such a way before. He had been a self-important man, now that he thought on it. His life, from his first wife Vendela onward, had been about pleasing himself.

  Mike leaned back in his chair and studied him. “Would you marry her?”

  Now that was an unexpected question.

  Vikar frowned, considering. “I know that some vangels wed, even with humans, but they have been ones with short penances left. No, much as I would want to marry Alex, I could not watch her grow old and die whilst I stay the same age.”

  “What if there were other options?”

  If Vikar weren’t sitting down, he might have fallen over at the sensation of blood draining from his head. He felt faint. “Dost mean turning her into a vangel?” He shook his head sadly. “She would have to die and undergo the agonizing change for that to happen and I would not inflict that on her.”

  “Maybe that should be her choice.”

  “Do not offer it to her,” Vikar ordered.

  He could tell that Mike was not happy with his dictating terms, but then the archangel said, “There is one other option. If you wed her, she could stay her same age and live as long as you do, but when you pass to the Other World, she would have to go, too.”

  “What? What? Do you mean . . . I don’t know . . . what if . . . how?” he stuttered. Then, “Was this always on the table as an option for us vangels?”

  “No. I just thought of it now.”

  “I need to think about it.”

  Mike flashed him a disgusted look for not jumping at the offer, but then shrugged as if to say, Dumb Viking!

  Vikar had no chance to react to that latest insult because his head was swirling with everything that Mike had said, but then he could not think at all because Mike made his final pronouncement.

  “Send the woman to me.”

  Seventeen

  The angel gave her a gift most precious . . .

  Transylvania feature, Kelly Page 1

  Draft Eleven

  Cynics beware! You aren’t going to believe what is happening in Transylvania.

  Angels arrived today in this small Pennsylvania town. Yes, that was angels, as in plural. In fact, three angels. And not just any angels. No, these were the crème de la crème of angels. Archangels.

  Numerous sightings were called into the 911 Center, as well as the local newspaper. Huge winged creatures with human bodies.

  All over the area, people claimed to witness miracles. Small miracles, but miracles nonetheless. A bank official suddenly approving a portfolio of loans for folks previously deemed poor risks. The long-broken bells of St. Vladimir’s Church bursting forth with tolling music. A child with leukemia suddenly cured; well, doctors claimed it had been an unfortunate misdiagnosis. Several couples halfway on the road to divorce decided to reconcile.

  Most obvious were the smiles. A sense of well-being pervaded the air. And people were “paying it forward” right and left without being asked. The waitress given a huge tip donated the extra money to the local animal shelter, which was able to rescue a litter of puppies left on the roadside, which led to a boy with no birthday presents . . .

  Alex had been weeping softly for the past two hours, and she wasn’t sure why.

  It was monumental, what she’d seen downstairs. Angels. Honest-to-God angels! There was no denying their existence now.

  For weeks, she had been on the fence about the vangels, one day refusing to believe they could possibly be what they claimed to be, and the other accepting that life sometimes contained things that were miraculous, for lack of a better word. This was more than that. Actual, visual proof that celestial beings were here among us.

  Seeing and believing was one thing, but its effect was still staggering, and that’s why she wept. This changed everything for her. Life as she’d understood it was all wrong.

  She hadn’t been offended when ordered back to her room. She’d needed time to assimilate everything. By the time she’d gotten her emotions somewhat under control and gone into the adjoining bathroom to wash her face and apply a tinted mo
isturizer to hide her reddened nose and eyes, Vikar was in the bedroom waiting for her.

  The first thing she noticed was the worry on his face.

  “What?”

  “Mike wants to talk with you.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “You’re scaring me.”

  He walked over and took her into his arms, pressing her face against his beating heart. The beating heart of a dead man, she had to remind herself.

  “What happened in your meeting? Are you being punished for being with me? I’m not going to let that happen. I’ll talk to Michael. Tell him to punish me instead of you.”

  He stepped away from her and gave her a look of dismay. “You can’t tell Mike what to do.”

  She shrugged. “I can try.”

  “Besides, my punishment is small. We can discuss it later. No, it is something else.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not sure.” Thus the anxious expression on his face.

  So it was with trepidation on both their parts that Alex approached the office a short time later. To her dismay, Vikar told her outside in the hallway that Michael wanted to talk with her alone.

  When she walked in, the archangel was standing near the window, staring pensively into the distance. What was he seeing? The mountain? The sky? Heaven?

  Despite being dressed in modern attire, this man was clearly more than human. Even without the wings she’d seen earlier, he was angelic. A sort of radiance emanated from him. Not a halo. And not actual light. Not even an aura, precisely. Maybe there was no word for it.

  In any case, she knew she was in the presence of someone of heavenly importance. Should she bow, or get down on her knees?

  He turned and smiled at her, gently.

  Alex whimpered. It was as if he’d reached out and wrapped her in the comfort of his wings. As if he not only could read her mind, but read her needs as well.

  “You have a question you wish to ask, my child?”

  Alex knew exactly what he meant. She sank down into a chair, fearing that her rubbery legs would give out on her. Without her realizing it, tears were streaming down her face. “My daughter?” she choked out.

  “Close your eyes,” he said.

  Without question, Alex did as told. Suddenly, into her mind came an image. A cloudy place, at first. Then a garden. Sitting on a bench was a woman. A woman of such beauty and serenity Alex had never seen. The Madonna. Then the Blessed Mother opened her arms to someone or something in the distance. And Linda, her daughter, as Alex had seen her last, came running forward, launching herself at the Madonna. Close on Linda’s heels was the aged German shepherd Tillie, who had died when Linda was only three. Sitting on the Blessed Mother’s lap, Linda appeared to be chattering away, and the woman was smiling gently as she caressed her soft hair. Gradually, the image faded, and Alex opened her eyes.

  She sobbed now, with joy and relief. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  The archangel nodded, then sat down across from her, handing her a white handkerchief. “Now, what are we going to do about Vikar?”

  That stopped her sobbing and brought her up short. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you love him?”

  “With all my heart.”

  “Would you give up your former life to be with him?”

  Alex wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but if he meant, would she stay here at the castle, there was no question. “Yes.”

  “Would you die for him? If asked, would you give your life for his?” It wasn’t a question she’d ever considered before, but again the answer came quickly. “Yes. Of course.”

  “So be it!” Michael pronounced, whatever that meant. Then, in a normal tone of voice, which couldn’t possibly be heard outside this room, he said, “Vikar, come here.”

  Within moments, Vikar knocked on the door and entered. His worried glance went from her tear-streaked face to the archangel.

  “I believe you have a question to ask your lady, do you not?” St. Michael prodded Vikar. Her lovely Viking might not be aware of it, but the archangel loved him, Alex could tell.

  With an expression of sudden understanding, Vikar went down on one knee before Alex, took her hand in his, and said, “Alexandra Kelly, will you marry me?”

  “What? Oh my heavens! Get up off your knees. You’re embarrassing me.” Then she noticed the serious expression on his face. “You’re serious?”

  Almost immediately, Vikar added, “Never mind. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that. I take it back.”

  “You can’t take back a marriage proposal,” she told him.

  The archangel was shaking his head at Vikar’s hopelessness. “Vikings!” he muttered under his breath, and walked out of the room, motioning with a wave of his hand that they should continue without him.

  Vikar looked puzzled. “I haven’t told you about the conditions Mike has set. If we marry, your life would be tied to mine forevermore, or as long as I live. If I am a vangel for another hundred years, you would live another hundred years. If I die tomorrow, you would die, too.”

  Now Alex was the one with her brow furrowed with puzzlement.

  “Let me see if I understand. You’ve been given permission to marry me, and I’ll become immortal, sort of, but it would be as if I were an appendage to you, sort of. Is that right?”

  “Sort of,” he said. “So, will you marry me?”

  “That is the lamest marriage proposal I have ever heard.”

  “Is that a no, then?” His shoulders slumped with dejection. He was still kneeling on the floor.

  “That’s a hell, yes. Not to the appendage business, but we can discuss terms later. My terms.”

  “I knew you would say yes,” Vikar said then, after standing and drawing her up into his embrace.

  “Yeah, right,” she said. “Hey, what woman wouldn’t jump at the chance for her own personal fountain of youth?”

  His shoulders slumped again. “That is why you agreed? Not because you love me?”

  “I didn’t hear you say anything about love, Vikar,” she pointed out.

  He frowned. “I didn’t say that I love you? I must have. I asked you to wed with me. Of course I love you.”

  “Then, yes, yes, yes.”

  Sometimes the bumps on the road to happiness are BIG ones . . .

  Alex was blissfully happy for the next few weeks.

  She and Vikar discussed ad nauseam all the implications of her marrying him.

  “I like the idea of being with you for a long time,” she told him, “as long as you don’t make me into a vampire.”

  “You won’t be a vampire, but you have to understand that I could die tomorrow.”

  “If you really must know, there was a time when I contemplated suicide. Oh, don’t worry, it was just a blip of an idea when I was at my lowest point. I’m willing to chance it.”

  “It’s a risk I don’t like putting on you. Besides, long life gets boring after the first hundred years.”

  “I would never get bored with you,” she said, and ran a fingertip up his bare arm, from wrist to the edge of his T-shirt.

  “There is that,” he said, winking at her.

  She melted when he winked at her.

  And he knew it, she could tell by the twinkle in his blue eyes.

  “Besides, you will be extra careful when you have me to come home to.”

  “There is that, too,” he agreed, and ran his fingertip up her bare arm, and in her case up to her shoulder since she was wearing a tank top in the excessive heat. He smiled when he noticed the goose bumps he’d created. “I love your goose bumps almost as much as your freckles.”

  In the end, she’d made him propose again. And she accepted again. They were waiting for a few weeks, just in case Michael would be able to return for the ceremony.

  The three archangels had returned for the second day of Reckoning and stayed until nightfall when all their work was done. For now. How they’d gotten to R
ome and returned so fast defied human explanation. Alex wasn’t even trying.

  She and Vikar had decided not to engage in any sex, near or otherwise, until the wedding. No sense taking a chance that Michael might change his mind.

  Now she and Vikar were alone at the castle, or as alone as they could be with twenty-seven others. All the brothers had left with their numerous vangels, off on various “saving humans” or “destroying Lucies” assignments. Vikar could be given a mission on a moment’s notice, as well. So Alex bided her time and tried not to worry. Too much. She also tried her best to hide her fears from Vikar, not wanting to spoil this short engagement period.

  She’d told Ben about her engagement, and he’d been apoplectic at first, wanting to come immediately and “rescue” her. But when she assured him how much she and Vikar loved each other and how happy she was, he gave his blessings, with reservations.

  As much as she would have liked him and Gloria to come to the wedding, she knew that was impossible, and she made excuses for why he couldn’t come. Even so, the Mercado trial was coming up soon, and Vikar was coming with her to D.C. They planned to have a short honeymoon in the capital, with a quick trip to the Jersey shore, as well. She promised Ben that he would get to meet her husband then.

  But then there was a change of plans.

  A few days after her phone call to Ben, her editor called, all excited, telling her to turn on the TV. The two Mercado brothers had been murdered outright as they walked from the prison van into the courthouse for a preliminary trial meeting. The assassin or assassins hadn’t been caught yet. Speculation abounded that their own drug cartel had killed them to avoid any possibility of a plea deal. Alex had other ideas.

  “Did you have something to do with this?” she demanded of Vikar once she’d located him in the dungeon where he was training some new vangels in weaponry. They had a real gun range in the basement.

  Once he understood what she was talking about, Vikar denied any involvement. “But I cannot be unhappy about this turn of events,” he said. “Now it is done. You can truly put the past behind you.”