by V L Moon
Thirst roared in his ears, urging Copi's vampire to delve, to eat, to drink. But, as much as he wanted to, something inside his mind screamed for him to wait, to enjoy and relish the bounty of what he was about to take. Licking his lips, Copi lowered his mouth to tease and tantalize the soft yielding flesh of his Sire’s potent sac. Sucking and laving around the weighted globes he drew them whole into his mouth. Attentively, he swirled the tip of his tongue around each one, greedily enjoying the delicate flavor of Vischeral’s warm flesh. In avid response to the lave of his tongue, Vischeral's hips began a slow rolling buck that tortured Copi into wanting more.
Keeping his eyes locked on Vischeral’s compelling stare, Copi reveled, drowning himself in the dark lustful waves of his master’s prowess. Baring his fangs, Vischeral hissed in inadmissible bliss
“Copi, God I love your mouth. It's so fucking sweet. Your tongue; use your tongue. Right. There. Oh fuck yes!” Vischeral’s feral snarl of carnal need echoed around the room as Copi followed his master’s wishes and snaked his tongue out and around the smooth tightening sac. He relished the dark exotic ripeness of Vischeral’s delectable flesh before running the flat of his tongue slowly up along the solid length of his pulsating, hot cock.
The room closed in around them, surrounding Copi within the solid wall of Vischeral’s will. No words were needed as the strength of their unity clicked into place, forging the link between the master and his fledgling and opening up each of their needs, wants and desires. The effect of their bond astounded Copi. As a human, he'd held no comprehension of the unique allure of a vampire's love, but as vampire, Copi not only recognized the in-depth nature of a vampire's emotion, but felt it as though he was one with every whim his sire demanded and craved.
Copi.
Copi was the craving his Vischeral longed to possess.
~*~*~*~
Chapter Thirty-Seven
~*~*~*~
Italy
It took every bit of his strength to maneuver the Fallen out of Gregori’s chambers and into the passageway. He didn’t know much of Arial’s story, and if Laziel did, the angel kept mum. With his own secrets clutched close to his chest, Malachi wasn’t about to pry into another male’s life. If the Fallen wanted to share, Creator save them both. Compassion and empathy were not his hallmarks. But, the emotion rolling off the male was screaming loud enough the vampires in Russia could read it.
“I know that look in your eye, Arial Nathanial. Hatred. Seen it plenty of times in my own mirror,” he said when he paused between the enclave and the Vatican. He paced a few steps away, leaving Arial propped against the stone wall. The devastated look on the male’s face replaced the usually stoic demeanor. “You want to talk about your little bubble burst in there?” The glare he received in response wasn’t unexpected.
“Didn’t think so,” he said. “So adjust your big girl panties and let’s figure out what the fuck we’re going to do.” When the big male dropped his head without a comeback, Malachi knew the revelation inside Gregori’s chambers had rocked the big guy something fierce. He closed the gap between them. Usually not the tactile one unless Laziel was involved, he followed instinct and reached for Arial for the second time. His palm slid partially around the male’s neck, covering the spot where he’d bitten him in a fit of rage. His thumb lifted Arial’s chin. Their gazes locked.
“You need to get a grip, angel.” He wasn’t sure if it was the demand or the term, but Arial erupted away from the wall. Malachi slammed him back against the brick. Their noses bumped together when Malachi crowded even closer, giving Arial no place to retreat. “You are not what you think you are, Arial, but right now you won’t listen to me. When you’re ready, we’ll talk. Until then, you need to get your head out of your ass. I need you.”
“Fuck you,” Arial snapped and tried to push him away. Malachi played leech, refusing to give any ground. He wasn’t blowing smoke. He needed the male firing on all cylinders.
“Behind the hatred, I see guilt. It is not yours to bear. She has chosen her path and in doing so, she cast you from Heaven. The Creator should have kicked her ass out right behind you,” Malachi sneered. “But, his judgment isn’t as damned perfect as everyone likes to think. They are both blind fools to turn their back on you,” Malachi growled. “And, neither of them will get you back. You belong to me. You answer to me, your true sovereign. I keep what’s mine.” Finally, he stepped back and stalked a few paces away.
“Do me a favor, when I start adopting fucking birds, put me out of my misery. This damn fascination with wings and shit has to stop somewhere,” he drawled and shoved a hand through his hair. He needed to be in a hundred different places, but he couldn’t leave Arial suffering and alone. Problem was, fuck if he knew what else to say to the male.
“I finally get it.” Arial’s deep base filled the enclosed space. Malachi spun back around to face him. One eyebrow arched in silent query. “I finally see what Laziel sees in you. You hide it well, vampire.”
Malachi scowled. “Didn’t I tell you not to speak his name?” he snapped.
“Since when do I listen?” Arial shot back and shoved away from the wall. The clouds in his eyes still hovered, but whatever chaos danced behind them was locked away. “What’s your plan?”
“No reason to do this twice. Go find Saul and meet me in the office,” Malachi said and moved to the entrance opening into Gregori’s chambers. When he shoved open the door, Clariel and Celix still stood with the Pope. The scent of tears hung heavy in the air. Clariel looked up through drenched eyes, lashes spiky and wet.
“Ah, Malachi, I was just reassuring young Clary that he was not going to lose his place here with me. He’s quite distraught,” Greogori rubbed the young male’s back while he spoke. On the opposite side of him, Celix stood like a statue, his gaze pinned to the carpet. His golden wings were in full mount, feathers trembling in the still room. Clear evidence of his distress.
Malachi’s earlier rage at finding Celix in the Vatican so close to his enclave seethed in his stomach. He studied the pair of them while they waited for his response. Body language told far more than the spoken word. Celix never took his hand from the smaller male. Malachi well understood the need to touch. Reassurance and comfort when everything in the world was fucked up. Laziel did that—had done that—for him. Clariel leaned into Celix also seeking the contact though he denied feelings for the other Nephilim. Gregori watched him, watch them.
“Celix.” The male in question startled so hard a feather drifted free to float to the floor. “Come here.” The blonde Nephilim sucked in air. It wasn’t until Clariel gave him a gentle shove that Celix took the first step. He approached warily, head down. “Kneel.” Malachi expected the proud fighter to balk. It wasn’t every day you made yourself vulnerable to your enemy. But, he didn’t. He went down on one knee.
Malachi lifted a hand and placed it against Celix’s temple. “Earlier, you swore to give your allegiance to me. Are you sure this is what you want?” he questioned. Celix nodded and expelled a shuddering breath. “If I find anything inside of you I don’t like, you die here. Neither of the ones in this room can save you and Arial is gone to get Saul. I ask you again, Celix. Are you sure this is what you want? There is no going back. If you betray me, this Queen you fear holds no concept of the hell I will bring down on your head. ”
“I will do anything for him.” The whispered words plunged straight into Malachi’s blackened heart. When Celix raised his head, the truth of that statement shone in his eyes. “Look for whatever you must inside of me. He is all that is good in me.” Celix raised his own hand to cover Malachi’s and closed his eyes while pressing Malachi’s fingers tight to his flesh. “Just hurry. I have to report back to her.”
Malachi stabbed into Celix’s psyche. He remembered well the last visit into Celix’s mind. The ego, the pride in himself and his duty. All of it was gone. The months flipped by on fast forward. It was no hardship to read Celix’s disillusionment as the Queen took more and mo
re control over the Nephilim warriors. The last encounter with the bitch brought a sneer of disgust to Malachi’s face. When he stepped back, he had to swallow the bile.
He asked the male the same questions he’d asked Clariel months before and received the same affirmative answers. He wondered briefly what Laziel would think about all of the new allies but quickly shoved thoughts of the angel away. Too fucking much emotion floating around already.
“Clariel, take him around to the main entrance of the enclave. Meet me in my office. Celix, put those damned wings away, or you won’t make it a foot inside the door. Gregori, we do appreciate your hospitality.” Malachi inclined his head to his longtime friend. “Five minutes you two, don’t keep me waiting.”
The trip back through to the enclave passed in a blur. He barreled through the public part of the enclave and didn’t slow until he stood in his office. Arial and Saul waited. From Saul’s expression, the Fallen had already filled in the Captain of the Guard on what he knew. While they waited for the Nephilim, he put through a call to the pack. “This is Malachi Denali. I need Jorn Chamberlin or Tobias Chamberlin on the line right now. And, Lance Drake, the vampire. ” The wolf that answered stumbled over a response and fled. Malachi hit his mute button and pinned Saul with his stare.
“In about three minutes, a Nephilim is going to walk through that door. He’s under my protection. If you have a problem with it, you better fucking leave now. Arial can fill you in later.” Malachi’s tone brooked no room for argument.
“Some fucking body needs to find Laziel. You’ve lost your God damned mind, Denali,” Saul muttered, but didn’t budge from his stance at the edge of the desk.
“If you want to keep breathing, I suggest you forget you know that name,” Arial drawled. “He tends to strike first and ask questions later.”
Malachi flipped them both off. His mind churned too much for pre-fight banter. The sound of shuffling came from the other end of the phone. Malachi hit the mute button a second time and cursed. Roman. Snagging his phone, he shot a quick text to the Elder.
“Hello? Malachi? You’ve got Jorn, Lance and Tobias. What’s up?” The younger wolf spoke up.
“We’ve got some intel you guys need, but everyone’s not here yet,” Malachi said just as the strong scent of indignation and fear leaked into the room. The door swung open, and Ms. Stroner glared at him. Celix and Clariel brushed past her and stood awkwardly just inside the door. Her chocolate gaze slid to Saul. The male made no move, not even to blink, but the tight set of his secretary’s shoulders loosened a bit. Whatever passed between them didn’t stop her from slamming the door when she exited.
“Okay, we have on this side, me, Arial, Saul, Celix and Clariel,” Malachi started. “Jorn is on the line. He’s the Alpha for the Appalachian Pack,” he clarified for the two Nephilim. “Tobias is his son and his Beta. He’s also bonded to a vampire which is likely the reason we are all here.” Across the long distance connection, he heard Jorn growl.
“Tobias, I sent Roman a text. Is he there with you?” Malachi asked. The question was answered when his office door swung open again. The young Elder joined them around the desk. “Never mind. he’s just walked in. So let’s get down to business.”
Quickly and efficiently, he, Arial and Celix related what they knew. Malachi was relieved when Arial made no mention of Bourne. None of the others knew the male and explaining his situation would only delay their preparations. When they were done, silence descended.
“You’re telling me that the leader of this damned Nephilim gang in standing in your office,” Jorn roared. “My son is a fucking target and that bastard is listening to us plan our defenses? I thought you fucking vampires had a God damned level headed King. You’re fucking nuts.” The phone line went dead. Malachi cursed. Roman stared daggers at Celix while Arial and Saul stood between them. Clariel, the only one sitting down, was a sickly shade of grey. No one moved or spoke.
The shrill ring of the phone startled everyone. Malachi punched the speaker button. “Sorry about that. Pops gets a bit worked up about my safety.” Tobias tried to inject a teasing lilt into his words, but the effort failed. “Rom baby, I trust your king as do you. Sit down and quit glaring daggers at this Celix fellow. He risked his life to get this information to Malachi.” The low soothing tone had an obvious effect on the Elder. Roman’s entire body relaxed. His eyes closed, and he inhaled slow and deep. Malachi suspected the same words had just been flung at Jorn although with a lot more heat. For all of his mischievous ways, the young wolf impressed Malachi with his intuition. He’d nailed Roman exactly and managed to get his Alpha father back online.
“The Nephilim are being instructed to fight, but not to injure. They’re novices, young and afraid. I’m sure your pack will scent it as soon as we get there,” Celix spoke up, earning a surprised glance from Arial. “Consider it a training exercise for both of us. I have something at stake the same as the rest of you.” A blush darkened Clariel’s cheeks, but he refused to look at Celix.
“Lance, stay out of it,” Malachi cut in. “Jaku and I will be there as fast as the sun goes down. The Nephilim will have a head start so everyone be ready.”
“Excuse me, Sire,” Lance interrupted. “I’m the most experienced fighter here. I’ve gone a few rounds with the Nephilim. It is not feasible for me to abstain from the fighting when I could be of greater service to the pack out there beside them.”
“Creator deliver me from fools,” Malachi growled. “I cannot afford for you to be hurt, Lance. I have enough shit to deal with at the moment.” Malachi snapped his teeth together before he said more than he should. “Get the pack ready. We’ll see you soon.”
Malachi hung up and dropped into his chair. “Saul, you’re staying here. I can’t leave the enclave unprotected. This could be a diversion. Arial, you’re with Lorenza. Do not fucking leave her side for any reason.” His gaze whipped to Celix. Malachi sat forward and jerked open a drawer on his desk. A throw away cell landed on the desktop. “That has my direct number and Arial’s number in it. Something changes you let me know. You get caught or need assistance, dial star six, six, six. Someone will find you.”
“I’m going with you,” Roman stepped forward. “He’s my mate and he’s in danger.” The Elder’s entire posture was defiant, expecting a refusal.
“Fine, but stay the fuck out of the way during the fighting,” Malachi agreed. “Everyone go. We’ve got shit to do.”
The room cleared with the exception of Saul. Malachi crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the lecture. Instead, he got two simple sentences.
“I’m going with you. Jaku can stay here.” Saul mirrored his stance.
“No. Jaku isn’t battle savvy enough to protect the enclave if Darklon attacks. But, he can fight. He goes and you stay,” Malachi said. Aggravation turned the other male’s face red. “You trust him to keep Kimberly safe while you’re halfway around the world?” The question deflated the solider.
“You fucking fight dirty, Denali,” Saul groused.
“But, I win. That’s what counts. I need to change.” Malachi strode out, impatient to be away. But, he didn’t head for his chambers. While he’d been plowing through the population, a thought had taken root in his brain. Arial was distracted, thrown a curve ball by the sudden appearance of his mother. As much as he hated taking advantage of the male, he would not give up the opportunity to find Laziel.
He caught up with Arial about ten blocks south of the enclave. After cloaking himself, he jogged along the rooftops, keeping a safe distance between them. The circuitous route didn’t seem to be leading anywhere in particular, and when the Fallen double backed on himself, Lachi worked to suppress a growl of irritation. He didn’t have all fucking night.
He was ready to strangle the Fallen and well past the time he should have left when it hit him. He stumbled over his own feet and crashed to his knees. He sucked in air like a man drowning. Laziel’s scent. It wrapped around him like a blanket, caressing his sk
in, sliding in through his pores. It was so strong he could taste it when he swallowed. Almost drunk on the sensation, he shoved to his feet and lurched to the side of the building. He closed his eyes and focused his other senses. He no longer needed Arial. The angel pulled Malachi toward him; the North Star to his compass.
The soft singing came next. A lullaby sung in the deep baritone that had soothed him as a child. The same lullaby he remembered. Moisture gathered in his eyes. With a curse, Malachi rubbed vigorously at the offending wetness.
The small church sat lonely and abandoned amid the empty warehouses. The high brick walls hid the chapel and its small garden from the outside world. If he hadn’t been three stories above the place, he’d have walked by and never known what was there. How had he missed it the many nights he’d canvassed the city looking for Laziel? But, he knew the answer. Laziel. The angel could hide in plain sight if he so chose.
Malachi teetered on the edge of the warehouse. Arial came down the street and slipped inside a small door in the alley on the left. Confirmation. He’d found Laziel and his babe. He rose to his full height prepared to storm the church when the back door opened. The singing grew louder by a fraction. Loz emerged, her head bent and one hand resting on the swollen mound of her stomach.
Malachi froze. Air refused to enter his lungs. His heart stopped beating; he couldn’t blink for fear of losing sight of his angel and the infant she carried. If he ever doubted he had the ability to love, his doubts were shattered in that moment. It punched him in the gut and stole every thought from his head. Every artifice he’d ever affected, every denial he’d ever made scraped along his heart. Why had he refused to acknowledge it?
Far below him, Lorenza turned back toward the house. The unmistakable smell of fresh tears assaulted his nose. They hardened into rubies before they hit the ground. Her anguish pierced ice.
