archangels were gone, Karl was sure the kitchen staff would be crawling into their beds. The rest of them would have to make do with Dominoâs Pizza or takeout the rest of the day though the storm had laid down another six inches of snow last night, and it was snowing again. Travel might be a problem, even into town for a bucket of KFC. Best they stick to home and open a can of soup or something. Not that anyone was thinking that far ahead. The vangels were too worried about why Michael was here and whether any of them was in the archangelâs crosshairs.
None of the archangels were smiling, which Karl took for a bad sign. The only indication Karl had that he was in particular trouble was a frown directed his way by Michael and the one-Âword warning, âLater!â
The other brothers, and their families, began drifting in. Their late arrivals were excused by the fact that Michael hadnât been expected until tomorrow. Sometimes, he liked to surprise them. In an attempt to catch them doing something wrong, Karl supposed. Like Karl had been. Though it hadnât felt wrong at the time. Still didnât.
There was Trond with his wife Nicole, both Navy SEALs. Well, Trond was a SEAL, but Nicole was a member of WEALS, the female Navy SEAL unit. They were followed by Sigurd, Harek, and Mordr, whose new wife Miranda and their five children would be arriving later. And Cnut, who was being teased by his brothers because of his new hairstyle.
The light brown hair was shaved on both sides of his head. On the top, three narrow braids ran from his brow to the crown of his head, where they met in one long braid that hung down to his shoulders. He also had a neatly trimmed beard and mustache.
âWho the hell are you supposed to be?â Vikar asked.
âTravis Fimmel who plays Ragnar Lothbrok in that History Channel series called The Vikings, â Harek answered for Cnut with a wide grin.
âYou look like an idiot,â Vikar observed.
âUp yours, bro,â Cnut replied. âItâs the latest style.â
âYou wouldnât know style from a pile . . . of shit,â Trond contributed.
âI like it,â Nicole said, and waggled her eyebrows at Cnut.
âYou do?â Trond asked and rubbed his hand over his short military cut.
âYou do know how Ragnar ended up in real life, donât you? King Aelle threw him in a snake pit, where he died painfully.â This from Harek.
âWhatâs your point?â Cnut asked.
âJust sayinâ,â Harek said, still grinning.
Then came Ivak, with his wife Gabrielle and their baby Michael. What a suck-Âup Ivak was, naming his child after the archangel although he claimed to have named him after Michael Jordan, the basketball player. Armod had been disappointed that the namesake hadnât been Michael Jackson. Ivak, a chaplain at Angola Prison, wore a clerical collar under a denim shirt, probably hoping to impress Michael with his piety, which was a total crock. Did I mention suck-Âup?
Finally, the meeting was convened in the front salon. Michael sat in one of the two wingback chairs facing the room, Vikar in the other. The female vangels took the remaining chairs. Everyone else was crammed into whatever space they could find, on the floor or leaning against the walls.
The archangel was in full celestial attire today . . . white robe belted with a golden rope, sandals, long, shiny, dark hair on which light reflected from the snow outside through the windows, rather like a halo. And wings. His massive white wings lay folded against his back. You never knew how Michael would show up. Sometimes he wore modern clothes, like jeans and T-Âshirt, and athletic shoes, which he had a passion for, with no wings at all.
âRafael and Gabriel were called away to an emergency on Agatnor. We will proceed without them,â Michael said. âThose Agats are more bothersome than Vikings. Like gnats they are
None of the archangels were smiling, which Karl took for a bad sign. The only indication Karl had that he was in particular trouble was a frown directed his way by Michael and the one-Âword warning, âLater!â
The other brothers, and their families, began drifting in. Their late arrivals were excused by the fact that Michael hadnât been expected until tomorrow. Sometimes, he liked to surprise them. In an attempt to catch them doing something wrong, Karl supposed. Like Karl had been. Though it hadnât felt wrong at the time. Still didnât.
There was Trond with his wife Nicole, both Navy SEALs. Well, Trond was a SEAL, but Nicole was a member of WEALS, the female Navy SEAL unit. They were followed by Sigurd, Harek, and Mordr, whose new wife Miranda and their five children would be arriving later. And Cnut, who was being teased by his brothers because of his new hairstyle.
The light brown hair was shaved on both sides of his head. On the top, three narrow braids ran from his brow to the crown of his head, where they met in one long braid that hung down to his shoulders. He also had a neatly trimmed beard and mustache.
âWho the hell are you supposed to be?â Vikar asked.
âTravis Fimmel who plays Ragnar Lothbrok in that History Channel series called The Vikings, â Harek answered for Cnut with a wide grin.
âYou look like an idiot,â Vikar observed.
âUp yours, bro,â Cnut replied. âItâs the latest style.â
âYou wouldnât know style from a pile . . . of shit,â Trond contributed.
âI like it,â Nicole said, and waggled her eyebrows at Cnut.
âYou do?â Trond asked and rubbed his hand over his short military cut.
âYou do know how Ragnar ended up in real life, donât you? King Aelle threw him in a snake pit, where he died painfully.â This from Harek.
âWhatâs your point?â Cnut asked.
âJust sayinâ,â Harek said, still grinning.
Then came Ivak, with his wife Gabrielle and their baby Michael. What a suck-Âup Ivak was, naming his child after the archangel although he claimed to have named him after Michael Jordan, the basketball player. Armod had been disappointed that the namesake hadnât been Michael Jackson. Ivak, a chaplain at Angola Prison, wore a clerical collar under a denim shirt, probably hoping to impress Michael with his piety, which was a total crock. Did I mention suck-Âup?
Finally, the meeting was convened in the front salon. Michael sat in one of the two wingback chairs facing the room, Vikar in the other. The female vangels took the remaining chairs. Everyone else was crammed into whatever space they could find, on the floor or leaning against the walls.
The archangel was in full celestial attire today . . . white robe belted with a golden rope, sandals, long, shiny, dark hair on which light reflected from the snow outside through the windows, rather like a halo. And wings. His massive white wings lay folded against his back. You never knew how Michael would show up. Sometimes he wore modern clothes, like jeans and T-Âshirt, and athletic shoes, which he had a passion for, with no wings at all.
âRafael and Gabriel were called away to an emergency on Agatnor. We will proceed without them,â Michael said. âThose Agats are more bothersome than Vikings. Like gnats they are