by V L Moon
As the other wolves filed out, Roman observed the Chamberlins. They neither touched nor greeted each other once the formality was over. Tobias’s eyes remained pinned to the floor, and his infectious smile seemed to have disappeared completely. Jorn’s face settled into a habitual frown. They all stood awkwardly in the middle of the room until a shadow fell over them. He glanced up to see Arin.
“Shall we wait in the kitchen? I’m sure our mates have prepared refreshments for our guest,” he spoke smoothly and waved a hand indicating the doors Roman had entered. Tobias visibly relaxed.
“Sage is here?” he asked. A bit of his original vitality appeared. He grabbed Roman by the arm and ushered him out of the chamber and down the hallway. After making a left turn, they passed three closed doors before entering a spacious kitchen. At the center island, two females almost identical in size kneaded lumps of dough.
“Hello, mother.” Tobias halted as if he’d hit a wall. The dark haired female lifted her head. Eyes similar to Tobias’s golden yellow slid over Tobias and then Roman.
“This is Roman De Sangue. Roman, my mother Clarice Chamberlin.” Tobias spoke almost in a monotone.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Roman said, but quieted when Tobias’s fingers tightened on his arm.
“You made it back safely. That’s good. Is your father on his way?” The female’s voice was flat, without emotion. Her eyes held none of the sparkle so evident in Tobias’s eyes before his arrival home. Something was very wrong in the Chamberlin household. Roman shifted to look at Tobias only to be ignored. The hand on his arm slid away.
“Yes, mother. He is talking with Khurn.” At the second wolf’s name, the other female tensed, drawing Roman’s attention. Her hair was the color of newly fallen snow, and when she raised her face, he gazed at porcelain perfection. A perfect bow shaped mouth, dark pink in color contrasted magnificently with winter white skin and bi-colored eyes. One shone as blue as the sky and the other as green as summer grass. She was stunning, but as timid as a mouse.
“Rom, this is my cousin, Sage Arin. She’s mated to Khurn.” Tobias hustled around the counter to hug the dainty female. It was the first real emotion Roman had seen since entering the wolves’ home. Sage melted into Tobias’s arms and held on tightly until her mate’s voice drifted into the room. She stiffened and backed away, dropping her head and her attention back to the dough. What the fuck was going on?
Tension held the room nearly immobile as the two Alphas entered. At a loss, Roman studied the wolves. Tobias’s parents greeted each other perfunctorily; there were no warm gazes or touches. Neither of them spoke to their son who’d just returned home. Sage, too, shrank away from Khurn though she never actively took a step. Her body language screamed fear.
For some reason, he was reminded of his mother. She’d behaved the same when Darklon appeared. All of his life, she’d been full of joy; her smiles lit up the room. Her laughter rang like bells through their home as she taught him his lessons and how to be a gentleman. All of that stopped abruptly the day Darklon appeared.
His gaze landed on Khurn. Something about the male scraped along his nerves. As if reading his thoughts, the wolf met his eyes and smirked. Roman’s unease rose another degree. He’d have to include his observations in the reports to Denali because Roman sensed trouble with the Alpha.
“The jeeps are waiting,” Jorn spoke up and moved to the backdoor. “We’ll be back before dawn.” He addressed the two females. Both nodded without speaking. When the three male wolves marched through the back door without any further farewells, kisses or touches, Roman nearly gaped in surprise. Everything he’d studied described wolves as loving, playful and very tactile by nature. It had given him some insight into Tobias’s constant need to have his hands on him. His unease grew as he followed the male shifters outside.
Whatever was wrong in the Chamberlin household, it affected them all so deeply they buried their natural instincts and behavior. What was worse for Roman, Tobias hadn’t mentioned anything being wrong. What were they hiding?
~*~*~*~
An hour before dawn, Roman stood beneath a stream of hot water. Dust and grime slid from his body as he sorted the night’s information. They’d visited the most recent scene; a child abduction. The parents had been troubled by his presence, but they’d allowed him inside. The boy, a ten year old daredevil, had been climbing trees and jumping from the branches to the ground. His mother heard limbs cracking and a loud crash followed by a harsh scream from her son. When she’d run outside, the limbs lay twisted on the ground and Jared had vanished.
Despite the week between the abduction and his arrival, Roman searched the yard and surrounding area. He gleaned very little new information. There was no trace of blood, no evidence of a struggle except the broken tree branches. No footprints. But, an enemy who could fly wouldn’t leave tracks behind. In addition to the lack of evidence, Roman failed to identify any type of motive.
The Nephilim hated vampires because of their thirst for human blood and the kills that all too frequently came with that need. Wolves didn’t kill humans. In fact, they very rarely left their packs. Except for rogue wolves. A light bulb went neon in his head. Quickly, he twisted off the water and stepped out of the shower. A fuzzy blue towel hung from the rack and he snagged it. He bent to dry his legs and yelped when a heavy hand landed on his ass. He whirled around fangs bared to find Tobias leaning against the doorframe with a crooked grin on his face.
“Nice ass, vampire. Don’t cover it up on my account,” he leered. “I like the view.”
Roman ignored the wolf’s quick grin, draped the towel around his hips and tucked the corner to hold it in place. He brushed past Tobias and crossed to his suitcase. He wasn’t in the mood to play after being ignored most of the night. Tobias had chosen to ride with Khurn and his buddies, leaving Roman alone in the jeep with Jorn and the remaining Alphas.
“Aren’t you in the wrong room?” he asked sourly. “The communal sleeping area is down the hall if I remember the blueprints correctly.”
Tobias frowned and crossed to stand beside the bed. “I have my own room,” he teased. “No reason for you to be jealous.”
Roman arched a brow at the other male. “I’m not jealous,” he said, knowing the statement to be a lie. Irritated with himself, he pulled a pair of pajamas from the suitcase and tossed the shirt on the bed. The pants dangled from his hand. Tobias gave him a saucy wink.
“I’m not,” he reiterated and bent to step into his pants. After pulling them up, he unwound the towel and tossed it in the direction of the bathroom.
“Sure you are; it’s written all over your face.” Tobias rounded the end of the bed and reached for him. Roman deftly dodged him and earned a frown very reminiscent of the older Chamberlin.
“What’s wrong, Rom? I snuck away from the others to spend some time with you before you sleep.” Frustration colored Tobias’s voice. “We’re finally alone and you’re wasting time getting dressed.”
“I intend to stay dressed, wolf, so you can sneak back to wherever you came from.” Roman winced. He sounded like a petulant child, but damn it, Tobias’s rejection before the meeting had stung. And, the male had maintained his distance throughout the rest of the night. Strong arms slid around his waist from behind, and Tobias’s warm body molded against him. Roman’s resolve wavered dangerously.
“All I’ve thought about today is getting you back in bed,” Tobias said and kissed the back of his neck.
“Funny, I would have guessed you were trying to figure out how to cut me loose. Not here, not now, stop, don’t…” Roman bit down on his tongue and tasted blood. Tobias sighed and rested his forehead against Roman’s shoulder.
“Wolves mate for life, Roman. You know that right?” he asked. Roman nodded unable to speak. His tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth. “One mate, one chance at offspring, one union to further the pack.” The words were bitter and their meaning wrapped cold fingers around Roman’s heart. The next ones s
hattered the budding dreams that flickered on the edges of his thoughts.
“The Alphas wouldn’t understand about us. You aren’t female, you can’t reproduce, and I’m the next in line to be Alpha of my pack, maybe even the Summus.”
“Then why, Tobias?” Pain roughened Roman’s voice. “Why start something with me when you know your family won’t accept me?”
“Because I’ve always been drawn to men. I’m gay as the humans term it. I’ve learned to pleasure a female because it’s expected of me. I do enjoy it sometimes, like with Ms. Stroner. She was magnificent. But, when I see myself settling down, it’s always with a male, and after last night, I’m pretty sure that someone is you.”
Roman turned around so they stood face to face. Tobias’s arms draped over his hips. His fingertips brushed the swell of Roman’s ass. “I don’t want half of a relationship, Tobias. If we are going to continue this, explore whatever it is between us, you have to tell your parents at least.”
The male stiffened and Roman relented for the moment. “It doesn’t have to be tonight, but I can’t be here and be restricted from touching you. It’s not fair to either of us.” Tobias stood silent, something Roman never expected to see from his rough and rowdy lover.
“Come to bed, at least until I go under. You can be back in your room before anyone discovers you’ve been out. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow. Today’s been a bit hectic already.” Roman eased out of Tobias’s arms and lay down on the bed. He curled onto his side and waited. A near silent sigh of relief escaped when Tobias joined him and curved around his body. Roman slid slowly into sleep with Tobias’s heartbeat pulsing in his ear.
~*~*~*~
Chapter Fourteen
~*~*~*~
Italy
Nine Weeks Later
After centuries spent at the side of the Creator, Laziel thought he’d known how it felt to be alone as the span of time stretched out before him.
Until now…
Trapped within his female persona for the last nine weeks without his vampire, he’d learned the true definition of loneliness. Laziel silently roared inside the walls of his own fractured mind. As a warrior, he’d endured the loss that came with war and carried the burden that came with that loss for an eternity. He’d witnessed firsthand the decimation of his race and rose to the Heavens taking their souls with him. Yet, nothing could have prepared him for the insurmountable depths of pain that came with being apart from the male he’d fallen to Earth for and loved from the second he’d taken his very first breath.
Mentally, Laziel cursed Loz’s form, the beatific substitute that had fooled many a vampire Elder into believing their King had chosen a mate. Due to the innate power of Loz’s femininity, Laziel was trapped in the female’s much weaker form until the life conceived between Loz and Lachi was ready to be birthed He shouldn’t be so cross. The fact a Seraphim had managed to conceive was a miracle in itself. Being the last of his kind, Laziel thought his blood line would die with him. The babe was a true miracle. Laziel prayed Darklon wouldn’t suspect their secret.
The duration of Loz’s gestation period was moving faster than a human’s nine month time span. At roughly nine weeks along, the unborn child’s heartbeat sang in Laziel’s ears, beating to a melodic and harmonious angelic tune. And its life force—so strong and bright. Even though Laziel couldn’t take his form, he still felt and saw everything through their feminine senses.
It came as no surprise their child’s life-force projected an intense celestial light. What concerned him was the swollen belly housing Malachi’s unborn child. It grew bigger with each passing day. Soon it would become hard to hide or pass off as over indulgence given Darklon seemed hell bent on starving Loz to death.
“The stupid fool has no clue.” Laziel’s thoughts took on Loz’s softer womanly tone, reassuring her male alter ego that her feminine strength was far from waning. But how long could they maintain the feminine vampire image?
“For as long as we carry his child inside of us,” Laziel roared inside their minds. Even if it meant never taking Laziel’s masculine form again, he’d sustain the strength needed to keep Malachi’s unborn child safe. He had to, not matter how much pain Darklon attempted to rain down on their female form. He’d take it; take it all to protect the child they’d made.
The sound of footsteps crossing the floor above announced Darklon’s return. With a shove, Laziel poured his strength of will into Loz’s frailer form. Her body slumped forward to hide her rounded stomach. The wounds covering her verged on the obscene. Darklon was a sick bastard, and took great pleasure in degrading Loz in every way he could. But, Laziel wouldn’t break. Even when Loz’s tormented screams brought in the dawn, he kept her strong, sucking the pain from her female form and taking it into the depths of his own tortured heart.
He drank it in and let the pain consume him as he looked through her eyes at the pictures covering every square inch of the room. Lachi’s first love stared back at him, haunting Laziel with those penetrating dark eyes and beguiling good looks. Yet, he couldn’t hate the male. After all, he’d played a part in Vischeral’s escape from the crazy Elder who had now turned the tables on them by capturing Laziel.
The crazy bastard had no ide of who he held. No, Darklon thought he’d captured Lorenza, Lachi’s female mate, and he wasn’t wrong. “If he only knew what he really had.” The thought made Loz shiver. She pushed back at Laziel’s intruding thoughts just as the door flew open and a wave of icy water hit her, taking away her breath.
When she opened her eyes, Loz looked about the room and focused on Darklon. He stood opposite of her and ran his fingers over the pictures of Vischeral Bourne’s face. Real pain marred the Elder’s eyes as he traversed the room, touching each picture as though they were memories of a lost love. In a way, they were. There was no mistaking Darklon loved Vischeral, but persecuting someone the way Darklon had, by trying to break the will of Vischeral’s mind, wasn’t the way to get someone to love you in return.
The brutality Vischeral suffered at Darklon’s hands would have seen anyone else locked in a padded cell, or as with vampires, turning feral until their crazed minds sent them running into the sun’s burning kiss of death. It had only been the strength of Vischeral’s will and Lachi’s intervention that saved him. He’d run, and even to this day; none bar Laziel knew where Vischeral hid from the vampire that sired him against his will.
“He was mine until that bastard turned him against me. It could have been him on the throne, not that pitiful whiney child. Denali has no clue how to rule, but Vischeral would have. With my help, he’d have made a far more superior sovereign,” Darklon spat. His declaration surprised Loz. Her eyes widened and that was all it took for him to remember her. A crack of pain slammed into her face.
“He was mine. MINE!” Darklon screamed and gripped each side of Loz’s face between his hands. Spit coated his lips and his eyes reflected the manic desperation of the illness seducing his mind. She felt the edges of his thoughts pushing against her mind and cried out as the image of Vischeral in Lachi’s arms slammed into her. Laziel surged up to take the pain.
He’d lived with the image, knew the taste of its bitter flavor. He should have left Lachi then, maybe he’d have been happier with Bourne. Their thoughts drifted as the blows rained down on their female form until the brush of Lachi’s mind broke through their walls with a gut wrenching roar. Their male was in pain. Reaching through the celestial bond that tethered them together, Laziel drew in Lachi’s scent, drank in the dark and deadly mix of emotion and pain.
Lachi’s thoughts slammed into Laziel. Dead. Lachi feared he was dead. Panic raced through Laziel’s mind. He feared projecting while he carried their child in female form. But, if he did, he could touch; let Lachi know he was alive, needing him, wanting him, loving him while he fought to protect them. He timed the blows, each one coming harder until Darklon’s sanity snapped. The force of his last blow tore through Loz. Laziel used the pain, used the pleasure it gave
Darklon to open the bond to his male; just a fraction, just enough to feel the warmth of his skin and the depths of Lachi’s despair.
Darklon’s heightened hysteria gifted Laziel the valuable seconds he needed. He knew Lachi could feel him, feel their pain, but Laziel didn’t care. Using valuable energy, Laziel sent a warm pulse of light into Lachi’s mind. He caressed Lachi’s pain, teased it away and dragged it back through the binding light that joined them. He wanted to hold Lachi, allow the male to feel his presence, hear his voice and the desperation he felt to be back where he belonged, in Lachi’s arms.
~*~*~*~
Blood spewed from the severed throat of the Nephilim, coating Malachi’s leathers in gore. With his vision already crimson from anger, the color failed to register. But, the coppery scent of the liquid awakened the hunger lying far too close to the surface. His fangs elongated and a snarl rippled from his chest. His blade found its mark, again and more blood pumped out over his hands. Vertigo hit him hard between the eyes; the world tilted as his body demanded nourishment. Ruthlessly, he shoved at the hunger. He refused to feed on the tainted blood of his enemy.
A roar sounded behind him. He twisted around from his crouched position, but a huge body slammed into him before he could rise. Fists flew faster than curses. A solid blow to his temple cleared the fuzziness from his brain. With a savage oath, he flung the Nephilim off of him and rose to face the newcomers. . His assailant stumbled to his feet and was joined by two more winged bastards. Malachi eased into a fighting crouch. He tracked their every move as they closed in around him.
“Enough.” The command filled the alley, freezing the Nephilim where they stood. Three pairs of eyes swung upward. Taking advantage of their distraction Malachi struck. Between one inhale and exhale, all three headless bodies hit the pavement. Curses fell like spears amid a rush of displaced air from powerful wings.
