Crimson Ties

by V L Moon

  “I’m coming Laziel,” he murmured. “One step closer and two back again, but never doubt I’m coming for you, angel.”

  ~*~*~*~

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ~*~*~*~

  Italy

  Anger and annoyance twisted Roman’s face into a scowl as he resumed physical form. A few feet away, Darklon stood with his eyes fastened on a small dwelling in front of them.

  “Don’t you ever fucking do that to me again,” he said. His temper vibrated in his voice.” Darklon ignored him, staring almost rapturously at the cottage. “You brought me out here in the middle of nowhere to show me a house?” Roman’s question dripped with irritation. “My enclave is hosting the King. This could have waited.” Before he could whisk himself away, Darklon’s hand closed around his wrist and dragged him toward the door.

  “The house is important, oh so important. But, you don’t know why you do?” Darklon muttered so low Roman almost missed it. A strange crackling noise filled the air. It took Roman a moment to realize the Elder was laughing. One eyebrow winged up.

  An oppressive sense of foreboding curdled Roman’s blood. With acute clarity, he realized he did not want to know what was inside that house. Darklon gave him no choice in the matter. Instead, De Sangue lunged toward the house. His grip on Roman forced him to keep pace or fall flat on his face.

  Once inside, ancient furniture greeted them. Faded oil prints lined the walls between cobwebs and tarnished silver. The rug they stood on was so threadbare; Roman clearly saw the outline of the wooden slat flooring beneath it. At some point, electricity had been added, but all of the lights were out. There was no hum of everyday electronics. Unnatural silence beat against Roman’s ears. The only thing shiny and new was the big ass lock on the door directly across from them. And, of course, Darklon bee lined for that bastard instead of the plain door to the left.

  When the lock clicked open, Darklon paused and turned to face Roman. His expression was grave, but his eyes were wild. Roman’s heart lurched against his ribs. The first tendrils of enthrallment pushed at his mind. As he’d been taught at Malachi’s insistence, he erected his barriers and locked them firmly in place.

  He barely contained a shudder when Darklon raised a hand to stroke his cheek. The madness in the Elder’s eyes morphed into something eerily like lust. Bile threatened to choke him.

  “You are so like him. I don’t know how that farce of a King doesn’t realize…” The warm wet glide of his tongue trailed along Roman’s jaw.

  “What the fuck!” Roman shouted. “Get off me you lecherous old bastard.” He shoved the Elder so hard he crashed into the door. The lust dimmed, replaced by cool calculation.

  “I put you where you are boy. Everything you are, you owe to me. Your precious mother, I saved her from certain death. Humans don’t usually survive vampire births without help. Your tutors, your lessons, your clothes, all financed by me. And you’re fucking seat on the Elder’s Council, it took cunning and intelligence to arrange the attack. Everything you have is because of me!” Darklon seethed.

  Sick realization turned Roman’s skin clammy. “You arranged for the Nephilim attack so Mendeeto would be killed?” Arial had hinted at it, but Roman hadn’t believed. Not until he stared into the depravity of Darklon’s evil soul.

  An evil smirk curved Darklon’s lips. “He was in the way. A goody two shoes who couldn’t see reason.”

  “You fucking bastard,” Roman gritted. “All of those vampires killed, families destroyed because of your delusions of grandeur.” Roman swiped a hand over his mouth trying desperately to clear the sour taste. All of them dead because of him. If he’d never been there, they’d be alive. Their deaths weighed heavy on his conscious. His temper spiked. “I fucking hate you. He was the closest thing I had to a father.”

  “I am your father!” Darklon roared and sprang from the door. Roman tried to dodge, but the older vampire was far too fast for him. They hit the dusty floor and skidded into the far wall. Fingers sharp with claws locked around Roman’s throat as Darklon straddled him.

  “You can’t escape from me. Not again.” Spittle flew with Darklon’s vehemence. “And if you try, I’ll destroy that wolf you’ve taken as pet.” The threat to Tobias snapped Roman’s fuse. He bucked hard, sending the Elder flying backward. He didn’t give Darklon time to recover. Flipping to his feet, he lunged, burying his shoulder in the other male’s stomach. A punishing blow bounced off of the back of his head. Roman saw stars and crashed to his knees. Fingers fisted in his hair and viciously yanked his head back.

  “You think to defy me, boy? Let me show you what happens to the mates of my enemies.” Darklon reached for the door. The silver lock tumbled to the floor. Darklon twisted the knob and dragged Roman through the door by the grip on his hair. The aged stairs bit into his skin when he tumbled head over heels to the bottom. Another door was shoved open.

  Faded pictures lined the walls. Roman blanched. Was that him? He blinked and tried to focus through the dizziness. It couldn’t be him. Some were yellowed with age, pen and ink drawings, paintings. Brain still buzzing from the blow to the head and the fall down the stairs, he nearly retched when Darklon snatched him around.

  “Would you like to see your little fur-man in her place?” Darklon sneered.

  Roman blinked, and a familiar face came into blurry focus. Holy fucking hell! The surroundings fell away as he stared at Lorenza. The King’s consort sat propped against the wall. Dark shadow, no make that bruises marred her cheeks and throat. One eye was black and her lips were dry and cracked. A tattered and bloodied tee shirt hung from her thin shoulders.

  “He’s going to kill you for this,” Roman blurted. His slip cost him another ringing cuff to the head, but not before he saw the female’s lips curve into a knowing smile. Their eyes met briefly when he could focus again. The lack of fear in her gaze surprised him.

  “He won’t kill me because I will be on the throne. His refusal to produce an heir will be his downfall. I will be king, and all of his asinine ideas will be dust under my feet.” Darklon crossed the room and crouched down in front of the female. A swift backhand sent her sprawling in the grime. Roman shoved to his feet and swayed with vertigo.

  “Stop it.” His command lacked any real authority. Darklon ignored him for the moment, intent on his latest victim. A sharp claw slashed through the tee shirt and penetrated the tender skin beneath. Blood welled and oozed. By no sound did the female acknowledge the pain. Roman bit down on the inside of his jaw and forced the dizziness away. When he saw only one of Darklon before him, he lunged forward and tackled the bastard.

  “I said leave her alone.” Roman knew he had no hope against the more powerful vampire, but he couldn’t stomach the female being tortured in front of him. Darklon retaliated, sending Roman flying against the opposite wall. He hit the ground hard and lay winded. Pictures fluttered down around him. The snarl on Darklon’s face morphed into true delirium. Tenderly, he gathered the pictures to his chest crooning as if to a child. He shuffled from the room with his prizes. Roman crawled across the room to the wounded female.

  “Loz, dear Creator, what has he done?” He reached for the chains only to recoil when his fingers blistered. “Fuck! They’re made of silver.” He met her solemn stare. “How can I get you out of here?”

  “Leave me,” she replied, voice raspy with disuse. “Go now before he comes back.”

  “I can’t leave you here. He’ll kill you. Denali will kill me.” He raked agitated fingers through his hair and winced when he encountered a lump. Loz jerked upright.

  “Do not tell him where I am,” she hissed. “I haven’t suffered this long for you to send him into a trap.”

  Roman studied the female. She was dead serious. Admiration for her courage and her sacrifice filled him, but there was no fucking way he was leaving her to suffer at the hands of a psychopath. However, she had a point. Darklon would sense the King’s approach and prepare.

  “Fine, I won’t tell Denali
, but I’ll be back. I’ll find some way to help you.”

  “No!” She practically vibrated with frustration. “He’s dangerous, Roman, and he has abilities you can’t hope to match.”

  “I can try; that’s better than nothing,” Roman responded. Loz lifted a hand and caressed his face.

  “I appreciate your honor and your intentions, young one. But, this is not your fight. Go from here and forget you saw me. Protect your mother, and protect our King. Lachi’s life is far more important than mine.” Regally, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Promise me,” she implored.

  Footsteps crossed the room beyond the door. Roman swallowed and curse, stood and faced the portal, a physical barrier between Darklon and the female. For his efforts, he received a contemptuous smile. Darklon sauntered into the filthy room. In his hand, he held a shirt. He tossed it across the room. Roman caught it by instinct and the scent strangled him. Tobias.

  “What have you done?” he growled. Fuck, when had he left? Sick fear churned in his gut. Roman’s mind raced. He’d only been alone with Loz for a few minutes.

  “I stole a shirt. For now. Interesting scent you two created with your lust.” He shrugged almost casually. “Here’s the deal, Roman. I’m an Elder, and I have a reputation to uphold. I’ve been very vocal in my objections to the travesty being visited upon our race by Malachi Denali. We are vampires, the top of the food chain. Yet, we hide away from the world.” He strolled to the middle of the room.

  “We don’t need the mediocre, watered down life he proposes. We were made to kill; we survive on blood. Humans are beneath us, cattle to be devoured at will.” Darklon stopped right in front of Roman. “We need a King that rules with might and fear; a male that will deliver unto our feet the world. I intend to be that King. And, you are my son and heir. You cannot consort with wolves. They’re filthy animals.”

  Roman held his ground. “Then I suggest you disown me. I love Tobias.”

  Strong fingers closed around his jaw. “Oh no, my son. I plan to keep you at my side. None dare contradict my claim. You will play the part of the dutiful son, and you will discontinue your distasteful relationship with your little pet. Or, the next time I bring back a prize it will be your little pup caged right alongside Denali’s bitch.”

  Real fear twisted Roman’s gut. Darklon released his chin and grabbed Loz by the hair. “Promise me you’re going to behave, or the whore gets punished.” Roman met and held Loz’s eyes.

  “I swear my loyalty to the true king and will abide by his wishes,” he said clearly. He saw the understanding in her eyes even as Darklon crowed in triumph. “Now, I have a party to host. You don’t want your son to be deemed a slacker by the mutts do you?”

  Darklon sobered and nodded. “Go, if you must. I have the divine Lorenza here to entertain me.”

  Roman escaped the room. Once outside, he patted himself down until he found his cell. When the deep voice answered on the other end, Roman spoke quickly. “Meet me in Rome right now.” He listened to several rapid fire questions. “I can’t explain. Just be there.”

  After a last glance around the area to lock it in his mind, Roman cast himself into the night. He materialized outside of the Vatican enclave and ducked through the public entrance. It took him about five minutes to reach the King’s office. At the massive doors, Arial stood with his arms crossed and a scowl on his harsh face.

  “This is your one and only house call Elder. It had better be damned important,” the large Fallen growled.

  “Keep your leathers on, angel. You’ll want to hear what I have to say, but we need to go inside.” He shoved open one of the big doors and entered the dark room. Leaving the lights out, he paced across to the desk. Arial’s heavy tread followed him.

  “I found Loz,” he murmured low.

  Arial inhaled sharply. “Come again,” he demanded.

  “I know where Loz is, and I need you to go and get her.” The words barely left his lips before the Fallen palmed double handfuls of his shirt and lifted him clear of the ground.

  “Why the fuck didn’t you bring her back?” Menace laced his voice.

  “Because Darklon was still there, and I can’t stand up against him. I don’t command the same level of power he does.” Roman hated admitting weakness, but the situation called for the bare facts. “And, he threatened Tobias.” His feet hit the ground hard.

  “Why the fuck did you call me? Malachi will have your head on a fucking pike.” Arial’s eyes glowed in the darkness.

  “Loz. She made me promise. She fears a trap, and I believe she’s right. Darklon’s not himself. He’s weaving in and out of sanity.” Roman inhaled. “That’s why I came to you. Malachi trusts you. Laziel trusts you. You were the only one I could think of that can get her out.” He dropped his head and studied his fingernails. “And, you were right about him. He is responsible for what happened to my enclave. He’s evil.”

  A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up, kid. Those deaths aren’t on your hands.” Surprised, Roman’s head snapped up at Arial’s words. “You couldn’t have known what Darklon planned. He arranged for the attack, and he alone is responsible. You are making it right.”

  “Not everyone will see it that way,” Roman said.

  “And, not everyone will know how it came about,” Arial countered. “Now tell me where she is.”

  “I’ll show you.” Roman reached out and took Arial’s hand into his own. He opened his mind and gave the male the images and the distance he’d traveled.

  “FUCK! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Arial cursed. His eyes flamed. “If Denali sees her like that, the free world will end. You made the right choice, Elder. I’ll get her out.” In a rush of wind and silent malevolence, the Fallen departed.

  Roman paced to a leather wingback chair, the one Laziel usually occupied, and dropped into it. Everything he’d been suppressing hit him like a shotgun blast. With shaking fingers, he hit speed dial. Tobias’s voice mail picked up.

  “Hey, Toby. Sorry I left so quickly. Had a sitch to deal with, but nothing major. I’m in Rome, and it doesn’t look like I’m going to make it back there before sun up. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He hung up and leaned back against the chair. The faces of the dead painted his eyelids. The guilt he’d been battling crushed in on him. Tears leaked from closed lids as he wept anew for the ones lost. But even after the grief for the loss of friends and family ebbed a bit, Tobias’s face remained superimposed on his subconscious. He had to find a way to set the wolf free even as it broke his own heart. Darklon presented a threat neither of them could handle. Malachi had enough on his plate already.

  Shoving wearily to his feet, he trudged out of the office and down the halls to his usual suite of rooms. He fell across the bed fully clothed. The Sole Dormire found him and brought with it a small blessing of peace.

  ~*~*~*~

  Dawn crested over the mountainous horizon, turning the lightening sky a vivid shade of crimson red. “Red sky in the morning, heed the wrath of the Creator’s warning.” An age had passed since Arial had last heard, or even muttered the words of the celestial verse. But, for some reason, the words seemed adequate as he stepped through the tree line and cautiously approached the worn and run down property he’d picked from Roman’s mind.

  Roman might have been new and surprisingly young for his Elder station, but Arial couldn’t question his loyalty to Malachi. It had taken courage to make a stand against a vampire as old and as strong as Darklon. Even deranged, Darklon was dangerous and cunning.

  As agitated as he was at being called from his duties to Malachi, Arial felt a stab of pride that Roman had contacted him. “Malachi trusts you… Laziel trusts you….” Roman’s words although true would account for nothing if he failed to bring Miss Lorenza home. Before Roman’s call, Arial had tracked Darklon’s acrid scent through the catacombs of Rome and came up empty handed at every trail.

  Darklon was playing with him, Arial was sure of it. The Elder couldn’t have known it w
as Arial, but the wary Elder sure as hell knew someone was in pursuit. Every time, his scent completely dissipated leaving Arial to track back on himself.

  “Fucking old goon,” he cursed, remembering how the canny old goat seemed to have fallen off the face of the Earth.

  Another step closer. The frost covered ground crunched beneath the soles of his boots. With no clue as to Darklon’s whereabouts, Arial readied himself. If Darklon slept within the walls of the abode, he’d toss the fucker out into the sun, and suffer Malachi’s rage at being denied the kill.

  But what about Loz? The King’s mistress and the female Arial believed responsible for Laziel’s ongoing absence. With the sun on full glow, there was no way in Hell he could take her out of there.

  “Shit,” he cursed, balling his fists. He’d have to wait it out until nightfall before delivering her back into Malachi’s arms. The thought soured his mood. Laziel would never be able to face that shit every day. Malachi and a female just didn’t fit.

  “Hell none of this shit fits.” Arial thought. He’d seen and even felt first-hand the sexual chemistry between Laziel and the king. Explosive at best, it brought him to his knees on more than one occasion. And then, there was the secret Laziel had shared with him. The one that explained the depths of Laziel’s love for the vampire king and lay written in scripture embedded within the altar of Laziel’s private chapel. That was love, a love to last beyond the call of time and the kind of love Arial didn’t believe really existed. Especially for him.

  Dark eyes that promised to suck in Arial’s soul played through his mind, threatening to draw him into the loathsome abyss that dwelt in his heart. Smooth skin hot enough to ignite the lust he’d foresworn eons before he’d been cast out made his breath hitch and his chest ache. Christ he couldn’t fall into his past. He had to let go before the want of his history drove him insane.