Crimson Ties

by V L Moon

  At Copi’s house, he switched off the motor and climbed from the vehicle. His breath misted in the chilly air. He barely felt the cold as he jogged to the passenger side of the Hummer and popped the door. Carefully, he slid strong arms under his partner and lifted him easily from the truck. Deep in Vischeral’s trance, Copi turned his face into Vischeral’s neck. His lips smoothed back and forth across the exposed skin. Goose bumps sprang up to meet the human’s lips as if his skin couldn’t get enough of the male’s attention. The hand resting against his chest began to roam back and forth across his pecs.

  “Vischeral,” Copi groaned, causing Vischeral to stumble and glance down.

  “Stubborn human; you couldn’t just go to sleep; you have to fucking dream, too?” Vischeral growled. Unlocking the door with his mind, Vischeral carried Copi through to the bedroom. With his enhanced vision, the moonlight provided enough light for him to navigate without running into the furniture.

  His partner’s dark chocolate and hazelnut scent bombarded him when he stepped into Copi’s private sleeping quarters. Vischeral inhaled it greedily already an addict to the aroma of his vampire’s chosen mate. Crossing to the bed, he sank to his knees while lowering Copi to the bed with great care. Completely relaxed in the deep sleep induced by Vischeral’s will, Copi sprawled in glorious fashion on the enormous bed.

  Vischeral slipped his arms free and started to rise only to be stopped by Copi’s hand fisting in his tee shirt. His eyes flipped up to find Copi still under his thrall, eyes closed. A frown pulled at Vischeral’s mouth. If his partner were awake, his actions would clearly be an invitation to stay, but with Copi knocked out? He tried to straighten again and Copi’s fist tightened, pulling him back toward the bed. The message was clear.

  “Relax, Copi. Sleep. I’ll stay for a while.” Vischeral felt like a fool talking to the sleeping male, but amazingly, Copi’s grip loosened though he did not let go completely. Trapped in a crouch, Vischeral hovered over his partner while his gaze roamed the male’s mouthwatering physique. A soft purring filled the room. Vischeral’s eyes widened in surprise when he realized the sound emanated from his own throat. Never, not even with Malachi, his best friend and now King, had he ever made that sound. Renewed astonishment coursed through him. He had only known Copi for a short time, but the bond held him tighter than the connection he shared with Darklon, his Maker.

  Shaking his head to rid his thoughts of the vile vampire who’d turned him, Vischeral tried one last time to stand. Again, Copi’s grip held him in place. With a sigh, he eased a knee onto the bed near Copi’s hip and swung his second leg over to straddle the other male’s hips. On all fours over Copi’s prone form, he growled low.

  “You have no idea who you are playing with partner. Would you still feel the same if you did?” Vischeral whispered into the darkened room. The moonlight streaming through the uncovered window gleamed against his extended fangs. Lowering his head, he grazed Copi’s warm skin with the razor sharp tips. A thin line of blood appeared in their wake. Vischeral’s tongue came back to soothe the torn skin and to lap greedily at the small taste of Heaven. Lust and hunger coiled in his gut. Red clouded his vision. It took tremendous will, but Vischeral beat back his monstrous nature and eased down onto his side, facing the human male that somehow owned part of his soul.

  Following Vischeral’s movement like a tracking beacon was implanted in his forehead, Copi rolled to face him still clutching his tee shirt. Unconsciously matching his breathing to the human’s, Vischeral let his mind drift. A brawny thigh slid between his legs, drawing a groan. He closed his eyes and counted Copi’s heartbeat in an attempt to distract himself.

  Self-preservation brought Vischeral back from the edge of sleep. Urgency rode him hard as the threat of sunrise loomed. But, beneath the urgency, a sense of peace lingered. With his eyes still closed, he savored the feel of Copi’s broad back resting against his own chest. The sweet swell of Copi’s ass curved snugly into his body and nestled sensuously against his rock hard erection. His head rested beneath Vischeral’s jaw line. The hand that had earlier been tangled in his shirt was entwined with Vischeral’s outstretched one.

  Vischeral’s arm curled possessively around Copi’s hip, his hand resting within inches of Copi’s sex. He held pure temptation in his arms and never wanted to let go. Burying his nose in Copi’s hair, he checked once more that Copi’s memories were gone.

  He waited until the clamor of his internal alarm screamed and still held on. He didn’t want to let go, didn’t want to lose the peace that enveloped him. Sunlight broke through the gloom. Knowing the time to leave had passed and a nasty burn would be his reward, Vischeral leaned in close to Copi. Pressing his lips to the nape of Copi’s neck, Vischeral closed his eyes and willed himself home—with one exception—his black tee shirt lay crumpled at Copi’s back.

  ~*~*~*~

  Chapter Three

  ~*~*~*~

  Italy

  Shackled at wrists and feet, Lozenza hung, suspended inches from the cold concrete floor of the damp, dark cell she’d been carried to hours earlier. She’d feigned unconsciousness in an attempt to protect the thrum of life growing inside of her. Stoically, she suffered through the rough handling of her abductors when what she, and her male counterpart, really wanted to do was pound the asshats into oblivion.

  But, stuck in the form of the vampire king’s female mate, she’d been attacked in a moment of emotional weakness and had been unable to fight back. It rankled that a fucking human had overpowered her. Deep inside, the male personification of the angel snarled. As a true androgynous Seraphim angel, Laziel lurked in her mind. Thoroughly pissed off at the level of treachery and betrayal aimed at the male he loved; the male they both loved, he paced like a caged lion.

  Usually, the stronger and more dominant male persona walked the halls of the Vatican, but Roman’s Crescente di Ordinare Cerimonia required her presence. She’d known before they left her apartment that something was amiss. The dull ache centered in her core had grown to unbearable proportions by night’s end. She should have recognized the signs, but she’d never believed—hell Laziel had never believed—the outcome they faced would have been possible. A new life fluttered in her abdomen. Malachi’s child; his heir. To protect the babe and the façade of their relationship, Laziel had allowed his female form to be taken.

  “I will rip them apart, limb from fucking limb,” Laziel mentally vowed.

  Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. Loz fought to rein in the onslaught of her emotional turmoil. If her tears fell, her abductors would know the vampire persona to be a sham. Vampires cried bloody tears; whereas, celestial tears crystallized to form small, precious rubies. Her body shook with the effort to keep herself calm. For the first time since leaving the side of the Creator, she felt alone; scared of what the hands of Fate held in store for her.

  The dull aches from the blows of her attacker were nothing more than a mere annoyance compared to the overwhelming ache tearing at her heart. Forcing her body to stay limp, she hung in the darkness and let her mind play back over the events prior to her abduction.

  Lachi’s scent enveloped her as she remembered his heat, the sensuality of his touch and the fire burning in his eyes as he filled her, stretched her and gave himself over to her alluring whims. But, she’d seen the pain in the depths of his eyes and felt the force of his will as he pleaded with her to bring Laziel back. She’d wanted to; demanded and warred with her own mind for the male form to manifest. For the first time ever, Laziel had been unable to gain control over the angelic force of his celestial energy.

  It was only when Lachi succumbed to sleep and she lay sated that the full brunt of their union hit home. As if on cue, a small flutter tickled her womb reminding her of the reason she’d refused to smite her attackers when they struck.

  Life. The consummation between vampire and angel, an unheard of combination, had born fruit. A new race grew inside of her; conceived from the insurmountable love Laziel held for the ma
le he’d created, coveted, and protected. Their destinies were truly bound and were no longer limited to the blood Lachi took from them or the life force Laziel had breathed into Lachi’s beautiful dark soul. A new life had been created, and must be protected at all cost.

  But first, Loz had to survive while protecting Lachi at the same time. And, therein lay her Achilles heel. Loz knew Darklon, Lachi’s arch enemy and one of the Elders of the vampire race, was behind her abduction. His malicious exploits exceeded all moral boundaries. In his quest to overthrow Lachi from the vampire throne, he possessed no qualms in ordering the genocide of entire enclaves. Yet, no proof could be found to tie him to the heinous atrocities.

  The crazy motherfucker hadn’t yet been made to answer for his crimes, but he would answer. Laziel would make sure of it. Especially after the bastard dared to mastermind treason in Lachi’s very own enclave. Time and time again, Laziel had held Lachi in check or reined in his own impulsive temperament in a bid to abide by the laws of the vampire race. But, no more. In kidnapping the mate of the Vampire King, Darklon issued his own death warrant. One Laziel planned to sign in the crazy fool’s own blood, as soon as he was free. Sadly, before that could be done, she would bear the brunt of Darklon’s violence. All he could offer her was his own power and comfort. He rose up and wrapped his strength of will around her.

  Trapped, not only by Darklon, but in the female form, Laziel couldn’t break free from either. His freedom meant obliterating the charade of being Lachi’s consort. It would give Darklon the upper hand. If the demented Elder learned their secret, he’d possess everything he needed to topple the vampire throne and prove Lachi guilty of treason. The outcome of that trip down destiny’s path chilled Laziel’s blood.

  Darklon’s sick perverted fantasy of locking Lachi beneath the catacombs of Rome to be used as a stud and blood slave to the elite, fertile females was never going to happen. Not as long as Laziel drew breath. He had no problem with strengthening the race, but not at the expense of Lachi’s freewill. The vampire was everything to him.

  The thought of Lachi having to bear such a gruesome burden sent a slither of fear riding over Loz’s flesh. She trembled from the stab of horror racing through her veins. “How far will we go to keep Lachi safe?”

  The answer came fast and precise. “We will give all.” Laziel never hesitated in his response. “We will give everything to see him safe.” Even in female form, they wielded the power to make Hell on Earth a reality. And, Laziel would. For Lachi—for his male, he’d sacrifice everything, himself included.

  “But what of the child?” Loz’s hands closed protectively over her abdomen. “Could you willingly sacrifice the life of the vampire king’s young?”

  The roar of frustration echoed through Loz’s mind, resonated through the walls of her prison and threatened to open up the ground beneath her feet.

  “The child must survive which means we cannot change.” They would have to remain in the female form until the young was born. Though he didn’t speak, Loz knew Laziel agreed. But, what of Lachi? What would become of the King with Laziel restrained by his female form? Even if she were to break free of the chains that bound her and escape, where would she go? Returning to Lachi’s side wasn’t an option. He would never forgive her or accept the angel in female form.

  As female, she was tolerated. It served the purpose of fooling the Elders into believing their king had chosen a mate. But in truth, Lachi never wanted any of it. The King wanted and demanded Laziel. Only Laziel could contain and restrain, accept and partake of the deviant desire that coursed through Lachi’s veins. In all of their centuries together, they had never contemplated the day would come where circumstance or the fear of being rejected would keep them away. To keep Lachi’s bloodline safe and ensure their child stood any chance at all of surviving, Laziel couldn’t return; not to his male persona or to the King.

  The painful revelation tore through her heart and burst from the confines of her prison. From far above, the sound of Heaven’s angels opening up the sky and singing their sorrows for one of their own reached her ears and offered a balm to her tortured soul. Uncertainty and concern for Lachi’s welfare collided in her mind. Unable to feed from Laziel, Lachi would soon become intolerant to daylight; his infamous rages would become more unstable as his hunger grew. Would he feed? Sate his hunger from the blood of another? Just the thought of Lachi’s lips touching, biting, feeding from someone else cracked open the well of their celestial heart.

  Everything Lachi feared had come to pass. Since Vischeral’s turning, he’d deliberately held himself in reserve, refusing to acknowledge any emotion for fear those he cared for would be harmed because of their association with him. Laziel had scoffed at him, longing for the vampire to acknowledge his feelings. Loz’s heart ached for the King. His sacrifice proved useless. He was alone, left to reign without Laziel at his side to protect him from Darklon and his minions’ treasonous wrong doings.

  Fear blighted the war on Loz’s thoughts. It had taken centuries to tame the bitter storm of rage surging through the maze of Lachi’s mind. Years of discipline, training, devotion and love, Sweet Creator, the love. With every breath the vampire took and every step he made to beat back the fury of the beast residing inside, the love within the celestial’s heart grew. It multiplied until the line between them blurred and nothing else existed; only Lachi. For the angel, the world as they knew it revolved solely around the vampire male, to the point where the life they led upon the Earth meant nothing without him.

  As though her thoughts called him forth, the walls surrounding Loz resonated and quaked. The force of energy flowed through their bond and arched her body against the chains that held her. The dominance of Lachi’s fury speared through her as he shoved against the wall she’d erected. Frantically, she worked to shore up her defenses and lessen the connection. She knew the second he sensed her distress and identified the fact Laziel hadn’t taken their masculine form. His rage scorched through the bond, eating away at her will. “Laziel, help me,” she pleaded and sighed in relief when Laziel’s strength of will shored up the dam of her weakened reserve.

  Tentatively, she reached out through the slim crack she’d left in their connection and caressed the storm of Lachi’s thoughts. It only served to enflame him further. Desperately, she yanked back and closed the link. The second Lachi detected what she’d done, her body seized, and then thrashed against the chains as his fury slammed into the mental shield protecting her and shielding the new life growing in her womb.

  The room around her started to spin as dizziness assailed her. The vampire battered against her defenses, raking the boundaries of her mind with sharpened talons of fury, hurt and demand. And, in the middle of the onslaught, she sensed she was no longer alone. As the storm of Lachi’s desires battered against her, a malevolent growl rumbled into the stale air. Recognition flared and Loz immediately stilled. She slammed the lid on her rambling thoughts.

  “So our guest is awake I see. It seems that our rambunctious King isn’t very happy. Destroyed his own enclave. Now why would he do that I wonder?” A sharp yank on her hair snapped Loz’s head up and back until her spine arched and her eyes met Darklon’s deadly, cold glare. He sneered, spittle forming at the corner of his lips. He drew back his other arm and grunted as his fist connected with the side of Loz’s face. The force of the blow split the skin along her cheek and a warm flow of fresh blood dripped down her face.

  Darklon laughed, the manic sound coming fast and high like an excited child given a new toy. His eyes were wide and glassy with pleasure as he struck again and again. Each blow preceded Lachi’s name and rambled curses meant to torment her and the vampire king. Darklon knew full well that mated vampires bonded for life. The strength of their bond was also a weakness, when one part of the unity found itself in a situation such as she faced. Only, Loz wasn’t vampire and she’d taken the steps necessary to prevent Lachi from experiencing the pain.

  If anyone suffered imminent danger, i
t was Darklon. Behind the false façade of their vampire mask laid a well of untold power. Celestial power that, if released, possessed the ability to wipe out everything Darklon held dear. Yet, to wield such power would also destroy what Lachi worked so hard to save.

  The new laws and updated ways he strove to implement for the vampire race would eventually win out over those that opposed him. In time, his rule would be supreme, and he would come to understand that all he’d achieved had come from his love for his race. A love that wouldn’t be possible unless he had a soul. And, it was that realization in itself that was worth any and all of the so called pain Darklon chose to inflict.

  By the time Darklon finished dealing out his retribution on her face, the fire in his eyes had dimmed and his breath came in ragged heaves. His strength waned but, his brutality knew no bounds. He delighted in inflicting as much pain as possible.

  Rambled obscenities became emotional detours into the past; his desire to take the throne, his hatred of Lachi and the angel that served him, and his morbid fascination with Vischeral Bourne. Dawn’s kiss on the horizon finally stopped Darklon’s endless savagery and afforded Loz some much needed time to recover and heal.

  The vampire shuffled out lost to his own paranoia, allowing Loz to regain some semblance of composure. Alone, and with time to adjust, she slowly attempted to survey the blood spattered chamber in the dim light. Her eyes were swollen nearly shut, and she fought against unconsciousness. As much as she needed to draw on the light of her celestial strength, she first needed to scope out the room for weak points and blind spots where Darklon may have placed a minion to guard his prize. She had to be observant, cautious and alert. Healing would flood the room with light; celestial energy called from the depths of her soul. It would shatter the façade and expose her ruse to anyone guarding her or the room in which she hung.