Crimson Ties

by V L Moon

  “She’s dying,” Mirabella whispered. She turned fearful eyes to Arial. “I don’t know which one I was sent to save. I don’t have enough power for both of them.”

  “The babe.”

  “Laziel.”

  Arial and Lorenza spoke at the same time. The Fallen knelt beside the laboring female. Mirabella expected a plea to fight, a pep talk to live. Instead, Arial chose a more traumatic route. “The babe will rest in Heaven, a child well loved by every angel because it is of you. But, if we lose you, Hell shall visit Earth before Malachi dies. He has vowed vengeance, even faced down our Creator with balls the size of Hell’s Gate.” Arial stroked Lorenza’s forehead. “Do you want him to die along with you?”

  “He won’t die, he’s too stubborn,” Lorenza replied softly, but tears leaked from her eyes to fall as rubies and clatter against the floor.

  “No, Laziel. You know he will die. He is tied to you as irrevocably as Heaven is tied to Hell. He may avoid it for a day or two, but imagine the destruction his anger and heartbreak will bring to the Earth before he succumbs. Our Creator will never allow him into Heaven,” Arial cajoled her. The female twisted her head away. The tears fell harder.

  “Better the babe live. Lachi will never deny it the love he denies me,” Loz sobbed once and bit her lip. “I will talk to the Creator and beg for Lachi’s life.”

  Another curse spilled from Arial’s lips. “He does love you. He’s just too fucking stubborn to say the words. Damn it, Laziel. Fight for your male. Why do you not demand he address his feelings? I’ve never known you to be subservient to anyone. Why him?”

  Mirabella stood in silence waiting with breath held for the Seraphim’s response. Before she could utter one word, the doors behind Mirabella crashed open on a rush of such feral savagery, her soul shivered at the force of malevolence and ire. She twisted around, a ball of Heaven’s fire forming in her hand. Absolute fear robbed her of speech. Terror rendered her immobile. The visions of Lucifer bore no resemblance of evil compared to the male who strode toward her eyes blazing red with the fury that burned the very air around him.

  The vampire king had come home and Hell suddenly loomed closer than she had ever imagined.

  ~*~*~*~

  The scent of blood and agony filled the room Malachi entered. Lance lay on the bed, his breathing ragged. The demon doctor leaned against the far wall. His immense size dwarfed the bedroom. He glanced up when Malachi entered and offered a mirthless smile.

  “Looks like we’re in business. We do this the old fashioned way, or intravenously?” He asked. Malachi shrugged. He really didn’t care; didn’t want to do the feeding at all. Laziel’s words sat heavy in his heart. More troubling, a sense of dread and sorrow had threaded through their bond. Before he could get a grasp on the celestial’s disquiet, the barriers descended again. The severity of Lance’s wounds left little time for dissecting the short mental contact.

  “Whichever way is fastest so I can get the hell out of here,” Malachi growled and moved to stand beside the bed. He reached to straighten the sheet over Lance’s prone form and hissed when fangs drove into his wrist.

  “Guess that answers the question,” DeRhys drawled and then tensed when a rumbling growl tore from Malachi’s throat. Strong fingers closed over Malachi’s arm and held his wrist in place when every instinct had him jerking backward. “Now, now vampire. You’ve started; you might as well finish.”

  Each draw on his vein caused his stomach to revolt. He’d never shared blood with anyone except Laziel. Nerves twitched in his arms and legs. Escape. Run. Wrong. The beast awoke and paced, snarling with distemper. Through the bond, a piercing scream echoed in his mind. Unbridled pain tore the link with the angel open wide. The angel’s grief wove in a macabre blanket around his soul. Malachi’s knees gave out. His breath came in panicked gasps. Desperation to get away ate at him. He fought the hold on his arm, but a large body moved in behind him, leaving no room for escape.

  Caged.

  Malachi snarled when his angel’s pain intensified. It poured through the bond, a wicked sieve filling his mind with the purest agony. He fought the rising tide of his volatile and fearsome vampiric nature. They dared hold him. They dared keep him separated from his angel.

  Laziel!

  The name marched across his psyche. The bond appeared as a golden cable in his mind. He watched and cringed as the individual bands weakened and frayed. When the first one snapped, violence crashed through his system. The mental ping of every broken link following the first one flung fire into his veins. His entire being vibrated with sadistic energy and the need to inflict his and the angel’s pain on another. He barely clung to sanity, but he knew he had to leave before he killed them all.

  He ported, ripping his wrist free of Lance’s greedy mouth. He flung himself into the dawning day paying little heed to the blistering kiss of the sun. His molecules sped toward Italy and the small chapel buried in the wasteland of empty warehouses.

  He never made it that far. Over the Vatican, every sense alerted him to Laziel’s presence. The newly repaired foundation shook at the force of his entry into the enclave. Like a military missile with a tracking beacon in his chest, he honed in on the angel’s signature. Each step, each inch closer to his Laziel, the ever increasing throbs of pain crashed over him. He absorbed them, feeding the masochistic side of his soul.

  The locked doors of their chambers posed little barrier to his will. They parted like the seas before Moses. A dainty female confronted him, a ball of Heaven’s power swirling in her hand. With a thought, he plucked the energy from her hand, absorbing its light into his body and curdling the purity with his intense fury. She gasped and paled, backing toward the bed where Arial stood blocking his view of Lorenza.

  A brilliant light shone at the Fallen’s back, haloing him in the glow. The grimace on the Fallen’s face was anything but angelic. Malachi had no time for a challenge, or any patience for anyone who dared stand between him and what belonged to him. He strode forward, his will leaping before him to clear the way. The female bounced off of the wall with a whimper. Arial somersaulted into the fireplace barely escaping the flames. Curses rained down, but Malachi ignored them all.

  Partially reclined on the bed, Loz stared at him with wide, white eyes. He noted her hair had grown and trailed over the edge of the bed to brush the floor. The ends were not the lustrous black of the rest. Faint traces of white colored the edges almost as if she were fading before his eyes.

  As he studied her, tears pooled and slid down Loz’s cheeks to fall ruby bright against the black fur throw. Her swollen abdomen pulsed with light. The presence he’d so often felt through the bond stretched in his mind. His child. Their child.

  “It’s coming?” He asked. His deep voice filled the room, powered by his anger and the angel’s pain. Loz nodded. Of its own accord, his hand rose and reached out toward his angel. The torn skin of his wrist glared a brilliant red in the incandescent glow emanating from the angel’s skin. Again, his fingers curled into a fist, reluctant to touch such purity with the vileness that was his nature. But, before he could withdraw, Loz caught his hand. As she’d done in the dream, she lowered it to curve around the swell of her stomach.

  “You must protect the babe, Lachi. I will watch over you both from Heaven.” Her whispered words were the gasoline on the flame of his temper. With a growl of denial, he grasped her shoulders and yanked her toward him. The bond pulsed and ebbed as her gaze unfocused.

  “NO!” He roared and shook her hard. “Laziel, you motherfucker. You will not leave me. I forbid it.” A sob choked him. Bloody tears blinded him. Like a wild and wounded bear, he clutched her to his chest and spun to glare at the other two angels.

  “Save him.” The order echoed in the chamber and in their minds. The female stumbled and grabbed her head. Blood leaked from her nose. Arial shuttered and swore. “He is mine, and I will not lose him.” Malachi vowed. “Who the fuck is she?”

  The female swiped at the blood on her
face. “I’m Mirabella. Michael sent me to help.”

  Malachi growled. He didn’t trust the denizens of Heaven any more than he trusted Darklon. “Easy vampire,” Arial said and moved in behind Mirabella. “She can’t help if you kill her for touching Loz. You okay with this?” Malachi glanced down into Loz’s dazed eyes and nodded once.

  “Right now, the babe is strong. Loz is feeding it all of her power. It’s draining her,” Mirabella glanced nervously back over her shoulder at Arial. “Loz is dying and the baby is in danger if we don’t get it out before she dies. I, ahh, I need to know which one you want me to save if things go wrong.”

  Malachi growled. He had no intention of losing either one of them. But, given a choice, he knew he would always choose Laziel. “You worry about the baby. Leave Laziel to me.”

  “No Batman, our babe must live,” Loz said drawing everyone’s gaze. “You will make a wonderful father.”

  “I am not fit to raise an angel’s child. My soul is decayed and foul. I need you beside me,” Malachi said, sinking to the floor and settling Loz in the vee of his legs. He leaned back against the bed and carefully arranged her head on his shoulder. Absently, he stroked her hair while Mirabella arranged her in preparation for birth.

  “She’s getting weaker,” Mirabella whispered. In desperation, Malachi looked at Arial. Sadness dwelled in the Fallen’s eyes. He shook his head.

  “What, Arial? What the fuck am I doing wrong?” Malachi ground out. “You know how I can save him don’t you?”

  “Yes, and so do you, Malachi. Remember what I told you about an angel’s love. It’s time to stop being a stubborn ass and admit what you feel,” Arial spat. “He’s dying because you’re scared.” Arial shoved a frustrated hand through his hair.

  “I’m not good enough for him. Look at me,” Malachi raged. “I’m a savage. My soul is blacker than the demons from which you feed. I would have killed you and her both just for breathing the same air if not for him. I don’t deserve to love one as pure as he is.”

  An explosion of light cut him off. Loz arched off of the floor, pressing back into Malachi. Their gazes locked. Peripherally and in slow motion, he noted Mirabella kneeling to hover over Loz’s abdomen, the source of the light.

  “Come to me, little one,” Mirabella coaxed, and the light brightened. But, Malachi’s attention remained on the dreamlike stare of his angel.

  Loz lifted a hand and caressed his cheek. Her image shimmered. Fear clutched Malachi’s heart. “What the fuck’s happening angel?” He whispered hoarsely.

  “You are not evil, my Lachi. You’ve never seen yourself the way I see you,” she whispered. “Before I go, let me show you your true image; the Malachi I see when I look at you. The male you are meant to be if only you’d allow it.” Tentative fingers brushed over his face as if memorizing him. The images that flickered into his mind rocked him to his core.

  He saw himself standing in a circle of blinding, white light. The anger that so often marred his features was gone. Clear black eyes shone with intelligence. He appeared…beautiful. “You are beautiful, my Lachi. You are deadly to be sure. You’ve need of those savage traits. But, your soul is pure; the soul of an angel. You only need to accept it.”

  Her hand fell away, and the vivid light faded. Mirabella kneeled at Loz’s feet holding the babe. A wail of outrage filled the chamber, followed closely by a keening howl of pain from the babe’s father.

  “Get out!” he shouted as the bond with the angel plummeted to nothing and then spiked only to fall again.

  “But, don’t you want to know…”Mirabella held the child out.

  “Get. OUT!” Pain and rage added volume. Arial snatched the female angel from the floor careful to keep the newborn safe and raced for the door. Malachi’s pain throbbed outward shattering wood and glass. His arms locked around Loz’s body. He rocked back and forth. Everything he felt for Laziel and Lorenza swamped him. The love he tried so hard to hide rode a tidal wave of suppressed emotion to cloak the room.

  The bond pulsed, but didn’t strengthen. Malachi raised his gaze to the ceiling as Loz sagged in his arms. The defiance melted away. Fear for the one he loved shook him to the core. He cradled Loz against him.

  “Please don’t take them.” The whispered words were louder than a shout in the silent room. His arms tightened around Loz’s still form.

  “I love you, Laziel,” he whispered brokenly. “Don’t leave me. Not again.” Powerful, silent sobs shook them both as the last of the light faded from the room and the bond.

  ~*~*~*~

  Chapter Forty-One

  ~*~*~*~

  Anchorage, Alaska

  Love, lust, fear and a fierce need to protect swirled in a cacophony of twisted emotions. Vischeral waged war inside his own mind while Copi stormed his body’s defenses. White hot heat engulfed his cock. Strong fingers manipulated his balls, rolling them roughly against a warm palm. Broad shoulders wedged his thighs apart while Copi lapped at his leaking sex. The sight of his partner’s wicked mouth working him over tilted the skirmish in lust’s favor.

  He’s coming. The warning slithered through his thoughts, but was quickly squelched by the stars bursting behind his eyelids. An electrical storm of passion gathered at the base of his spine, sending lightning bolts of need along his synapses. Danger! The bond with Copi screamed at him. Teetering on the cusp of release, he drove his fingers into his partner’s thick hair. The sane side of him intended to pull Copi away, explain. But, the miniscule sliver of humanity powered through eager for the touch of his lover. At long last. Vischeral tugged him closer; desperate for the loving attention his Copi so willingly provided.

  For centuries, he’d survived alone, needing no one and wanting no one. He lived on the run, staying one step ahead of his cruel and inhumane Sire. Capture meant a return to torture and depravity. There would be little hope of rescue, and escape would be a pipe dream. Darklon held too much power. Although Mal struggled to institute new laws, the oldest remained intact. Not even the King could intervene between a Sire and his vassallo. At least, not again.

  His world had gone ankles over earlobes in that dark alley in New York. He’d known there was something different about the human male with the mesmerizing amber eyes. The urge to run quieted. The need to be closer, to touch, to know had unnerved him. To the point, he’d left the male’s memory of him nearly intact. Stupid. But, he’d never expected to see the human again. If anyone had told him that night, the male would be in his bed, bonded to him and turned by him less than a year later, Vischeral would have quietly escorted them to the asylum.

  “Vischeral.” Copi’s voice spiraled into his brain through their bond. “Stop thinking and give in to me.” Gods, he wanted to; so badly. But, he struggled against the savage orgasm pounding in his balls. He needed to stay focused, to keep his wits about him. Although though the wolf was dead, an even more sinister menace lurked.

  A growl of irritation hummed along the sensitive length of his cock. Copi’s grip on his dick tightened. Vischeral’s concentration wavered at the exquisite torture. The bulbous tip slipped into an open throat and fangs scraped the base of his throbbing erection. The fingers wrapped around his sac disappeared, giving him a small measure of clarity. Short lived clarity.

  “Copi!” Vischeral grunted and arced off of the bed when two fingers found his hole and shoved inside. His entire body shuddered at the sensual invasion. Copi gave him no chance to catch his breath. Mouth and fingers worked him higher and higher. One by one his synapses fired until he shoved his hips forward, burying himself deep in his partner’s throat. The orgasm crashed over him. Coherent thought fled as he soared toward euphoria. Worry disappeared; danger evaporated. He basked in the glory of what his male had given to him. Release. Peace. Vischeral clung to it, reluctant to take the free-fall back to reality.

  Vaguely, he registered strong hands stroking his thighs, and Copi’s breath against his softening sex. He drew in air to speak, but moaned when Copi struck. The dreamy af
ter orgasm high wavered as fire rippled into his veins. Copi’s new and very sharp fangs sliced easily through Vischeral’s groin. Unerringly, they punctured the thick vein that carried blood to his cock. Hands slid under his ass as Copi drew him closer to his mouth and settled in to drink. Still reeling from the force of his climax, Vischeral gave in to the moment. He reclined against the pillows locking every sensation, every smell, and every touch in his memory. It was the closest to Heaven Vischeral ever expected to be.

  Because Hell loomed on the horizon.

  Desperately, he shoved the foreboding to the back of his mind. He’d waited so long for Copi. He refused to allow Darklon to intrude on the moment. The soft pulls on his vein slowed and then stopped. Instinctively, Copi raised his head and licked at the wounds, sealing them closed. He glanced up at Vischeral with a different kind of hunger in his eyes. Lurking just behind desire, the fear of rejection shone in the depths. Vischeral’s heart twisted. Despite the raging tempest barreling down on them, he couldn’t ignore Copi’s need for reassurance.

  Locking an arm around his partner’s waist, he flipped them, coming down hard and tight against Copi’s well-muscled body. “Stop it,” he admonished.

  Copi’s eyebrows went up. “Stop what?” He asked defensively.

  “Thinking you are less than perfect,” Vischeral said, only to be interrupted by a harsh laugh.

  “I’m a fucking half-breed. The vampire part is wine and roses, but the fucking wolf is a…,”Copi twisted his head away breaking eye contact. “He’s a fucking killer, and now, he’s part of me.” He finished low. “You deserve so much better.” Copi struggled to get up and Vischeral let him go. He twisted over on his side to watch the male pace.