“I still cannot believe this is happening.” Zool cocked out an onyx leather clad leg and shook his head. “Archangels becoming part human and marrying women. Am I the only one that finds it a bit…blasphemous?” He regarded all his brothers with that intimidating black gaze. “I mean, we're required to have… relations with them. How is that angelic? And the humans in the triumvirate? I know the human marriage ceremony is a legal and social declaration of the union . But how is it right for us to use the power of their passion without the couple making the public vows they think constitute a marriage? Yes, technically it’s not a sin, but if they think it is, it’s a sin against their own conscience.”
“Look.” Uriel rubbed at his chin seeming tempted to lift the human vocabulary only requirement. “I understand your concerns because of our Brothers' rebellion. But the difference is, we have Father’s blessing. This is for the sake of humanity's salvation. We’re not secretly snatching whatever women we desire and bearing offspring like our brothers did. We are sacrificial lambs falling upon the knife ourselves, with full awareness. And we don't even know for sure what we're giving up." A hard expression suddenly crossed his face as though he were tired of discussing the thing that no amount of talking could change. What they were being asked to do was by far the most sacrificial duty ever demanded of them. They were being asked to give up…being angels. Basically. "This meeting is adjourned unless any of you have something to say.”
The speak-now-or-forever-hold-your-peace tone hung in the air like a noose. Toren wasn't surprised that all of his bothers resisted the temptation. Further discussion was pointless. Their fate was decided. And as elite archangels, all that was left was the doing.
“Good then. Continue your studies, especially about human women and…their sexuality. You’ll need to know everything you can get your hands on, though I caution you to avoid what the humans call pornography in your quest. Do whatever you have to in order to bond securely with your wife so that the triumvirates are not compromised. We cannot afford it. Kassern and Dorn, and soon Toren, will make themselves available to answer questions or explain anything that's unclear.” Uriel looked all around at the men who stood like baby warrior grunts before storming Hell. “Dismissed.”
CHAPTER TWO
"Damn it!" Sam Carrington pushed the leather bound ledger across the table and shoved her chair back in frustration. Her father's steadfast refusal to move into even the previous century and allow the ranch's accounts to be handled any other way drove her batty every week when she had to do payroll. Even the crew's checks had to be written by hand. As a result, a job that should only take an hour ended up sucking a whole day into the sewer.
And that wasn't even the worst of it. She stood and arched her back to relieve a little of the tension before dropping back into the chair. The mammoth leather attaché, filled to bursting with all the necessary details for roundup only a few short months out, leaned against the leg of the roughhewn table. Both the table and the attaché had served the ranch since her great-grandfather took over the operation. And they looked as old, too.
With payroll finally taken care of, she sighed past the knots in her stomach. Damn they couldn’t go on long like this. A ranch this size had the potential to lose as much as it stood to gain and everything—the round-up around the corner, the hands down with the flu for the past week and snow in the forecast—all made rocks in Sam’s stomach. Any normal situation could easily turn into a catastrophe, especially late winter weather. And it seemed that if anything went wrong, it did so on their ranch. If they were lucky, and they weren’t, they might survive the storm, but would they have enough animals worth rounding up?
The only humans left standing were her, the housekeeper, and of course that faithful bastard Joe, and he wasn't entirely standing. Out of all the guys to escape suffering the worst the flu had to offer, it had to be him. The idea of him falling off his horse, both his literal one and that metaphorical stud he rode so damn high on, offered endless entertainment.
She grabbed the stack of envelopes containing the crew's severely reduced wages and pocketed them. At least she could get some fresh air while she distributed pay and checked on the men who’d become like family. Except Joe. He was more like a parasite.
Her boot heels echoed on the hardwood floors until she stepped onto the stone tile of the kitchen. Kassie, the housekeeper and cook, looked up from dinner preparations and smiled when Sam entered.
The savory smells of the room surrounded her, and Sam couldn't contain her own grin in reply. The kitchen always had that effect on her, with its pots of fresh herbs growing on the windowsill and clumps of others drying on the rack suspended from the ceiling. Not even the depths of winter could darken the cheer of the room. It was the one place in the house she'd expected to miss when she had left for the convent. Too bad she’d only been there a few weeks before being called back to run things when her daddy fell sick.