by V L Moon
While Malachi crossed the floor, Darklon dragged Bourne to his feet and shoved the male in front of him. A smug smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. “As Sire to Vischeral Bourne, I demand restitution from you for the centuries I've been denied my vassal. I further demand that you face the Council on charges you conspired with my vassal to kill me and aided in his esca…departure from my company.”
Darklon smiled gleefully, showing every tooth. “Despite your impudent attempts to change our customs, you have not succeeded; not even a king can interfere between a Sire and his vassal.”
“It won't matter when you're dead, Loni,” Malachi snarled. “He'll be free. Again. Only this time, he won't have to run from a sadistic, demented fool. The changes in the law are needed because of asinine and archaic dinosaurs like you.” Malachi leaned closer to the Elder.
“You lose all the way around, Loni boy. That babe Arial carried from the room, that's my daughter. An heir. The throne will never belong to you.” A cold smile ticked up Malachi's lips. “And the nail in your coffin, and yes the pun is definitely intended—before Lorenza died she made a video for the Council naming you as her kidnapper and torturer. Roman will back her story as will her rescuers. The very minutes you live are numbered, DeSangue, and I hold the timepiece to your destruction."
Between them, Vischeral hit his knees. The veins in his neck stood out in stark relief. Pain contorted his face though he remained silent. “Back off, Denali, or your lover will die before your eyes,” Darklon taunted. Malachi smiled, an evil expression that caused Darklon's eyes to round in surprise. Malachi spun around and backtracked to the throne.
When he turned back to face the assembled, Bourne sagged forward to rest his weight on his hands. Shudders rippled through his tremendous frame. Darklon wore a self-satisfied smirk, but it didn’t last long. The remainder of the Elders sat in shocked silence, gazes wavering between the King and their peer.
“You forget yourself, Loni, making threats against my mate in front of a captive audience,” Malachi drawled while reaching over to take Laziel's hand. “Unfortunately for you, my lover is well capable of taking care of himself.” He shrugged. “Knowing how he feels about you, I'm sure Laziel will enjoy taking you apart piece by piece while ensuring you live right until the very last ounce of pain is squeezed from your useless sorry ass.”
Malachi lifted their joined hands, and the air in the room froze with his fury. “You see, Darklon, you are misguided. Bourne means nothing to me. He is your sick fantasy. Before you so dramatically interrupted, I was making an announcement that I believe you will find quite interesting.”
Malachi shifted his gaze to encompass the entire assembled Court. “You’ve met my daughter, my heir to the throne. Your ill-conceived attempts to oust me on that technicality have been thwarted.” He directed the last statement directly at Darklon before passing a sweeping glance around the room. “All that’s left is the naming of my chosen mate.” He turned to face Laziel and brought their joined hands up between them.
“Forever. Eternally. Mine as I am yours.” Malachi sent the words directly into Laziel's mind before turning back to the Council. “I have chosen Laziel.”
Silence met his announcement for all of a second. The Elders influenced by Darklon erupted from their chairs, shouted questions and objections ringing in the air. Others remained seated and kept quiet as they mulled over the ramifications. Synta was the only one to wear a knowing and honest smile.
“You malignant abomination,” Darklon screamed. “You make a mockery of everything that we are.” Madness radiated from his eyes as he tossed Bourne to the side and stormed toward the throne. Malachi released Laziel's hand. His muscles tensed in anticipation of the fight while his challenging growl rippled through the room. Elders and enclave members scrambled for cover. Laziel, Roman, Tobias and Lance remained in their places fanned out to either side of him. Malachi took a step forward.
“Lachi,” Laziel growled. The angel shifted, menace radiating from him.
“It's time to end this, Laz,” Malachi shot back before porting straight into Darklon's path. They collided like thunderheads. Shockwaves rebounded through the chambers. Despite the strength granted by his age, Darklon proved little match for Malachi's fury and savagery.
They fought hand to hand without benefit of weapons. Malachi blocked every kick, every punch and every attempt to burrow into his mind. In response, he landed blow after blow drawing blood or crunching bone with each rage powered hit. Lorenza's bruised and abused body provided a visual map for his enraged inner beast. He moved with lightning fast speed, refusing to give the Elder any quarter. The aroma of his enemy's blood enflamed his senses; he scented death.
A powerful roundhouse kick sent Darklon sprawling in the middle of the aisle. Around him, overturned benches and chairs littered the floor. Council members and civilians huddled in groups around the edges of the room. Their fear stained the air with a pungent aroma. Bourne stood sentry at the back of the room, gaze blank, held in place by Darklon's will. Another victim of the Elder's egomania and insanity.
Malachi stalked his prey as Darklon scuttled backward toward the exit. “Bend over and kiss your ass goodbye, Loni,” Malachi sneered. “You will never again hurt someone that belongs to me.” Malachi lunged forward, his hands going for the Elder's throat.
“Denuntiamus, Semiazas!” Darklon shouted.
A wave of scorching heat slammed into Malachi, knocking him away from the Elder. He groaned in agony as his clothes disintegrated in the heat and the first layer of skin blistered and peeled back. A blast of sulphur scented air surrounded him. His eyes watered, but not before he saw the unmistakeable form of a horned demon flash into existence.
Malachi felt the blow coming and tried to port, but his injured body refused to cooperate. The demon's massive fist connected with his chest. He slammed into the throne, toppling the heavy chair as Laziel’s roaring battle cry filled the council chambers.
Ignoring the pain screaming into his brain, Malachi shoved up on all fours. He beheld a scene of biblical proportions. The hell spawn flung the flames of Hell toward his angel. Laziel batted them away as if they were nothing but a mere irritation. Rage contorted his beautiful face. Heaven's fire spewed from Laziel’s fingertips, blasting past any defence the demon raised. Laziel circled the progeny of evil, wrapping it in his Heavenly aura.
Though the beast struggled, it stood no chance against Heaven's most powerful warrior. Quicker than a blink, Laziel struck, cleaving the demon's head from its distorted, scaled body. As fast as Darklon had summoned the monster, it disappeared. Laziel stood triumphant, barely breathing hard. Vengeance danced in his mercurial eyes. He swung around, but the exit was empty. Darklon had fled, taking Bourne with him.
Strong hands slid under Malachi’s arms. He hissed when the raw skin objected to the touch. Roman and Tobias lifted him and hauled ass for his private exit. Malachi struggled ineffectively. The demon's attack had drained the last of his strength. He needed blood, he needed…
“Laz,” he breathed even as the black void of unconsciousness rose up to claim him.
~*~*~*~
Chapter Two
~*~*~
Fury and contempt threatened to impair Laziel’s judgement. The need to hunt Darklon down and mount his head on a long wooden stake churned in his gut. By injuring Lachi and affiliating himself with the demonic scourge of Hell, Darklon had earned himself a slow, painful death. One which Laziel would see to personally. The war had just taken a dangerous new curve which would obliterate the boundaries between the supernatural realms. It would either unite them or annihilate them. The balance between good and evil was about to shift. Laziel prayed it would weigh in their favor.
Old wounds healed slowly. Laziel knew the fight to come would open up the scars from his time on the battlefields of Hell. With the scent of sulphur hanging heavily in the air, Laziel folded his wings amidst a chorus of hushed gasps and whispered words tinged with fear. Around him, Malachi�
��s court stood in ruin; his subjects pushed back into huddled groups waiting for the danger to pass. Their eyes lingered, staring blatantly at the arch of his wings and roaming full of awe over a body that pulsed with celestial energy, a body now primed and ready for war.
With the demonic threat neutralized, Laziel failed to grasp the level of fear still scenting the room. He turned to find Synta kneeling before him. The reflection of himself in Synta’s eyes was one of death personified, an accurate depiction. No one touched or maimed what belonged to Laziel.
Just the thought of another, demon or otherwise, touching any part of Lachi enraged him. A thunderous burst of energy rolled through the vampire court and sent the vampires scuttling out in hoards, seeking the safety of their hidey holes. All except Synta. The Elder refused to move and kept his gaze firmly set on Laziel’s face. Seeing one of Lachi’s most loyal subjects on his knees humbled Laziel. Synta’s submissive pose and fragile frame hid more power than most of the Elders’ court combined.
With the exception of Darklon, Synta ranked second among the vampire populous. A year younger than Darklon, Synta exhibited grace and faithfulness where Darklon had none. Reaching down, Laziel offered Synta his hand and brought the delicately framed male toward him. His porcelain features made Synta appear doll like, looks Laziel knew fooled many into thinking Synta weak. However, his looks belied the strength in his words.
“I am your humble servant, Laziel. As always, my allegiance and that of my enclave is to you both. I fear for the future of our race and look to you in the absence of our king. What would you have me do?”
Laziel didn’t do formal. At best, he rarely spoke to the Elders, unless of course it was Loni, and then it was only to scold or threaten. However, with their king wounded, Laziel felt the encroaching presence of the vampires hiding behind their doors. They awaited orders, needing guidance on what to do. In the wake of Darklon’s treacherous revolt, everything they’d chosen to believe had been proven a lie. They wanted their king, desired a show of strength. And by the Creator’s name, Laziel would make sure they got it.
“Make sure everyone is accounted for and lock down every enclave. Saul will coordinate the guard and make sure each enclave has its fair share of protection. Stay tight until you hear from Lachi or me. Don’t be fooled by Darklon’s absence. He has his spies. We’ll weed them out, but until we do, no outsider is to be trusted. Now go and be safe.” With a flare of his wings, Laziel shifted. Guards poured through the doors where Darklon escaped.
Saul, his face neutral, took control of the situation and started sectioning off troops, issuing orders and instructions on which enclave was being assigned to each unit. Laziel left him to it. Saul had proven his worth many times over and didn’t need to be babysat. Laziel was needed elsewhere.
Mere minutes had passed between Synta’s declaration and the guards showing up, but with Lachi’s pain screaming through their bond, Laziel made haste. Each step he took felt slow, as though his legs where ploughing through some impenetrable force intent on keeping him from the male he'd sworn to protect.
Sweat broke out across his brow and his heart raced. His lungs burned with effort and tears rendered him blind. Laziel didn’t need to see. All he ever needed was the beacon of Lachi’s pulse pounding in his ears. He followed the rhythm of Lachi’s heart, let it guide him. The gentle thrum of Lachi’s blood fill him with a sense of urgency that fuelled his need to touch, to feel, to heal.
A feral growl tore up from his chest when he threw back the doors to their chamber. He glided toward the bed where Lachi’s prone body lay blistered and scorched from the demon’s earlier strike. If it had been any other vampire, they’d have started to heal, but Lachi was pure. He fed solely on the celestial blood running through Laziel’s veins, any attack from the demonic realm caused Lachi a severe degree of pain.
Lachi had been created within the heavenly embrace of Laziel’s own hands. He’d witnessed first-hand the devastating effects Hell’s spawn were capable of, and he’d be dammed if he’d lose Lachi in the same way he’d lost the brethren of his race. Even if it meant another descent into the fires of Hell, he’d do it. He’d cleanse Hell and the devil himself if need be, anything as long as Lachi was safe.
“Leave this room, but stay close to Arial and Ms. Stronger. Help guard Destahny,” Laziel commanded, voice breaking as he cut a glance toward Tobias. The wolf looked troubled, as did Roman, who glanced between Laziel and his injured King. For a moment, the young Elder looked as though he was about to say something, but thought better of it. Laziel knew exactly what it was that plagued the male’s mind. He’d seen the spark of recognition flare in Roman’s eyes when he saw Vischeral Bourne. Roman had questions, ones that deserved to be answered, but all in due time. Lachi needed medical attention. Laziel turned his back to the pair, and with Tobias leading the way, Roman reluctantly closed the door with a gentle click.
A weighted silence descended over the room. For the first time in months, Laziel found himself alone with his vampire king. With his heart racing and incapable of containing any semblance of calm, Laziel stripped himself bare and crawled up along the bed. Hovering over Lachi’s body, Laziel pulsed with ethereal light. It washed over every inch of Lachi's scorched blistered flesh. The emanating wisps of pulsating light danced over Lachi, embracing his pain. It entwined around each limb before crawling along the muscular slab of his torso with ghostly caressing fingers.
Laziel followed closely behind, kissing gently over the marred surface until all that remained was a flawless canvas of delectable flesh. More than aware of the internal healing yet to be completed, Laziel's concern remained. Lachi was still weakened by the effects of the demon’s malevolent touch.
Clasping his hair and pulling it clear, Laziel scored the artery pulsating in his neck to draw up a well of fresh celestial blood. Laziel coated his fingers and lowered his body until flesh met flesh. He teased at Lachi’s lips easing them apart. A long groan followed as Lachi’s senses awakened to the taste. His hips rose of their own volition bringing a wicked smirk to Laziel’s lips at the feel of Lachi’s cock stirring to life.
The prominent swell lengthened and pulsed between them. Laziel’s breathing quickened and heat bloomed between his thighs. His own sex wept, anointing Lachi’s girth in slick drops of angelic essence. Lost to the feel of Lachi’s flesh, the smell of his skin and the lingering taste of the male upon his lips, Laziel dropped his head and rolled his hips. The subsequent growl had Laziel seeing stars.
His eyes widened in disbelief when Lachi struck, sinking his fangs deep into the vein running up along Laziel’s throat. Each pull sent Laziel’s mind reeling. His hips snapped up, allowing the tips of their cocks to brush together before thrusting down hard and grinding the swollen length of his sex up along Lachi’s own thick shaft. His vampire snarled, shifting his legs and locking Laziel between his thighs. His nails dug deep into the mounds of Laziel’s ass causing the passion between them to grow in strength. Their joining was gentle by their standards, the friction sweet.
Laziel trembled. He’d missed the feel of Lachi pressed against him, touching him. However many times it happened between them, no matter the how they made love, it was never enough. Laziel wanted more, craved it in a way that drove him crazy. He needed to mark, to own, to possess, to crawl beneath Lachi’s skin and become a part of the male he so adamantly adored.
Wrapping his arms around Lachi’s neck, Laziel forced the fangs in his neck to go deeper. Lachi moaned as each nourishing mouthful gifted him with strength as it flowed through his veins. In a brief moment of wonder, Laziel reciprocated the act. He bit down hard upon Lachi’s flesh and took into himself a part of the male that loved him.
Like fireworks lighting up the night sky, Laziel’s world exploded around him. His body jolted sending a kaleidoscope of stars dancing before his eyes. Blinded by the fire building between them, Laziel latched on and held tight. Beneath him, Lachi threw back his head and roared, bearing fangs that dripped with bloo
d. Their union erupted in a rush of liquid warmth that spread up between them, coating their bodies in streams of thick cream.
Lachi gripped Laziel’s hair, fisted it tight in both of his hands and pulled him free to lay claim to his mouth. The kiss was brutal, devouring and deep; yet, Laziel succumbed to the possession, welcomed it with a passion that threatened to consume him. When the tremors of their release finally waned, Laziel refused to let go. The months of absence from Lachi had instilled a newfound fear in Laziel, an emotion new to him. It made any time shared together valuable, a moment in time to be treasured and remembered.
The tender brush of Lachi’s thumb against his face brought a sudden rush of tears to Laziel’s eyes. A well of raw emotion opened up inside of him. Only the strength of Lachi’s arms holding him tight prevented the wave that threatened to crash over him.
“I’ve got you, angel, always have, always will. It’s ok to let go. There’s no shame in love. I should know. It took me long enough. But no more, I’ll never again deny how I feel about you. The only thing that scares me is losing you. I can’t face that again. Being without you,”
Laziel cut off any further words by rolling on top of Lachi. He sighed in content at the feel of Lachi’s fangs raking over his neck.
“The gates of Hell will lie in ruin before I ever leave your side again. Now, kiss me motherfucker, or I just might have to show you how I intend to own your tight ass.” Laziel smirked wickedly and lifted a brow in obvious intent as deep rolling laughter rumbled up from Lachi’s broad chest.
“Creator save me but I missed that smartass mouth.” Lachi’s next kiss curled Laziel’s toes and sent a shiver of excitement racing through his veins.
When they next woke, Destahny lay bundled between them. She slept, a content flush on her beautiful cheeks as she suckled on the pad of Lachi’s thumb. Laziel stretched and smiled spreading a soft glow of light over all three of them. He watched in awe as it brightened in radiance and flowed into Destahny.
