Crimson Reign

by V L Moon

  Crooking a finger, Laziel beckoned the Halfling with a mocking glare, daring the winged half breed to at least try. Laziel watched as rage swamped the enemy's face, and in a heartbeat, the Nephilim swung into action. Wings whipped up dirt as the male attacked, fists clenched, open in front of its face showing the lack of training and no sign of grace. Laziel allowed the first point of contact, and drank in the pain the Nephilim inflicted on his angelic face. Blood pooled and dripped from the gaping wound gauged deep over Laziel’s cheekbone.

  Without so much as a flinch of recognition, Laziel took each well aimed strike of the Nephilim’s fist. The bastard sported a victorious grin as he fooled himself into believing Laziel had somehow weakened. The dumb fuck had no way to know that the punishment he was so gleefully dishing out was no more than an appetizer for Laziel. Smeared with the sweet scented sustenance that fuelled his male’s lust, Laziel shivered when an arctic blast of air slammed against his back.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Laziel? Move, you stupid motherfucker, or I'll take you out myself.” Lachi spat the harsh words through grinding teeth as he pummeled his thick meaty fist into the face he'd locked beneath his other arm. Bone crunched as Lachi's fist connected with the Nephilim’s nose and the male howled in pain as its face imploded and its body went limp.

  In slow motion, Laziel turned and caught the well-aimed upper cut headed for Lachi’s ribs in his open hand and twisted the heavy limb. Muscle and sinew tore and the creature in Laziel’s powerful grip screamed for mercy until the splintering bone cracked under the strain. The Nephilim’s scream exploded in the air around them. Laziel continued to the next opponent, avoiding the bastard’s clumsy attempts and pounding his fist into the Halfling’s face. Tears of pain blinded Laziel’s opponent. Behind them, Lachi ordered him to finish it.

  Laziel’s mood intensified until everything surrounding them took on the visual haze of a static storm. Electricity filled the air and light spilled from the tips of Laziel’s fingers as he opened up the Nephilim’s chest and tore out the bastard’s rancid black heart. Hot steaming blood dripped from Laziel’s hand as the powerful Seraphim stood and watched the last beat of the Nephilim’s heart held tight in his grip.

  Laziel closed his eyes and visualized where Darklon sat. The image materialized behind his eyelids. The vampire’s face, as usual, held that all too familiar sadistic smirk. Laziel’s eyes snapped open and met Lachi's black gaze. He pulled the vampire King into his thoughts to let him see the treasonous bastard as he sat amongst the Elders of the vampire court and to witness the look of absolute fear etched onto his face when out of nowhere the Nephilim’s lifeless heart, dripping with the remains of its foul tainted blood, appeared upon the crisp white table cloth before Darklon and the attending court.

  Brown blood purged of any semblance of the innocence bestowed on life poured from the torn open aortic valve and spewed its foul toxicity over the table to land in a shocked Darklon’s lap. Laziel didn't wait for the aftermath, he heard Darklon's roar without stretching the expanse of his senses. Instead, he shoved Lachi out of his thoughts and turned on his heels.

  Bereft of any feeling of euphoria, Laziel stalked from the alley mouth and took the very next turn before opening up the expanse of midnight black wings and taking to the sky. “Bordello. Now!” Only two words, but definitely a command. In the time it took for Lachi to phase himself out, Laziel was gone; a whisper on the wind that left behind the despairing scent of an angel's unshed tears.

  Cold penetrated the core of Laziel’s soul. Numb from yet more brutality, he saw no end to the merciless slaying of Nephilim or Darklon's treasonous deeds. The infliction of a life's demise still affected him greatly. After all his centuries on Earth, Laziel still saw the loss of life, any life, as defective. The nucleus of Laziel’s whole celestial being was built on innocence and compassion. But, the centuries of fighting the war alongside the male Laziel worshipped and adored was starting to take its toll.

  Weariness seeped into his soul, and Laziel secretly wept for the loss of life, even Nephilim life. As an angel and a blessed manifestation of the Creator himself, he could never understand why the Nephilim were as tainted as they were. They were the begotten children of angels, and after having known Arial for so long, he knew not all the Fallen were inherently evil. Even though Laziel never saw Arial as a true Fallen, the brooding male did. Yet, Laziel knew Arial was still a warrior at heart, one who held the grace and purity of an angel’s true heart, even though the poor bastard was cursed. So why? What was it that made the Nephilim so fundamentally bad?

  Laziel pondered the fact and wondered about the female bearers of the Nephilim that were born. He shivered; the icy chill creeping up his back felt like needles along his skin. His eyes took in the surrounding area; sure of the notion he was indeed being watched. But by who? Vexed, Laziel arched his wings and ascended into the clouds. He circled the city, reaching out with his senses, but no trace of whoever was watching him could be found. By the time Laziel’s feet touched down silently on the balcony of the bordello owned by the King, there was no sign of his beautiful wings and the sense of being watched had been duly forgotten. The only thing to remain was the deeply seated pain embedded in his heart and the need to feel the heat of Lachi's flesh against his own. But, as Laziel entered the candle lit room, any hope of obtaining the sense of love he craved drained away when he came face to face with Lachi's new toy. The St. Andrews Cross was a replacement following a lesson in strength both had certainly learned from. The beautiful new frame, made of smooth polished ebony wood, stood bolted to the ceiling and floor all shiny and as yet unused.

  Taking a deep breath, Laziel walked through the beautifully adorned room, removing his clothes as he went. Silently, he faced the cross and cuffed his ankles and one wrist to the hard cold wood. When the bite of the leather straps and metal buckles slipped in to place to pinch at his flesh, Laziel shuddered. He welcomed the physical pain that dulled the ache in his chest. Stoically, he willed the last remaining manacle to lock around his one free limb and secure it to the beam. The sound of his heart hammered loudly against the wall of his chest as he waited patiently for the expectant chill to foretell the arrival of his dark and brooding male.

  ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

  Laziel’s demand slammed into Malachi’s mind. The bordello, a place he desperately needed to go to relieve the rage that screeched through his system. Yet, the chaos spiraling inside the angel worried him. Usually stoic and careful to hide the leak of any emotion, Laziel’s uncommon lapse in control sparked a fear in Malachi that seldom saw the light of the moon.

  Few things in the world of humans scared him. Trained by Laziel to defend himself against all comers and blessed with the superlative strength and speed of his race, Malachi rarely faced an enemy that stood any chance of delivering mortal injury. The only thing that always delivered terror unto his very soul was the thought of living without the angel at his side. When Laziel disappeared into the night sky, Malachi came as close to panic as he’d ever experienced.

  Quelling the dread, he flung himself into the ether, taking form a few blocks from the appointed meeting place. He covered the remaining distance in ground eating strides, his eyes locked on the sky. Only the centuries spent with the male allowed him to glimpse the angel as he descended. A sense of melancholy and loneliness washed over him. What the fuck? And then, the faintest trace of her. Loz. The scent of the celestial’s feminine form barely tickled his nostrils. The emotional turmoil roiling through the angel belonged to her, and for some reason, Laziel allowed it. Why, Malachi knew not, but he knew how to force her back, understood what was needed to bring Laziel back to the forefront.

  Pain. Lachi’s own form of it. Torture tied with sexual release. The rage in his system shoved against the wall of ice he tried to erect around it. Fury beat against the locks and flooded his veins. Shoving through the door of the bordello, he brushed past the Madame intent on reaching the room above. In two strides, her hand on his arm fell awa
y as did her questions. Before him, the girls and their patrons parted, fear shining on their faces. His booted feet echoed in the stairwell as he trod slowly upward. There would be no tenderness, no gentleness in this coupling; any hint of it would strengthen the female’s hold on the angel. Malachi scoffed at himself, jealous of what was essentially already his.

  Loz and Laz, two halves of the same being, yet the feelings Malachi housed focused above all on the male. Too steeped in war and bitterness to ever seek the softer side of the sexual act, he knew Laziel was and would forever be the other half of his dark soul. A fact he’d never admitted to the angel. He never spoke of love. The emotion led to weakness, a weakness to be exploited by an enemy.

  If ever Darklon were to know of his feelings, a war of immense proportions would ensue. The treasonous bastard would delight in alerting the Vatican, the Nephilim and The Creator just to see him kicked from the throne. Lachi was no fool. The heavens would never condone a union between the two of them. His sole purpose in being given life was to further the vampire race. Taking Laziel as mate defeated every reason for his existence on this Earth. Death and destruction would prevail and the loss of vampire life would be intolerable.

  He knew without doubt that if it ever came to a choice, he would fight for Laziel, fight to keep him by his side despite knowing the battle would be in vain. He stood not a chance against the Creator not a soul on Earth did, yet he would fight to his dying breath. Added to that, the infinite burden of witnessing Vischeral’s descent into a hellish nightmare taught him a hard and valuable lesson those many centuries ago. Never again would a being he cared for suffer because of him. Laziel’s Creator, far more powerful than Darklon, could and would exact a vengeance ten times greater than the torture inflicted upon Vischeral.

  Thus, though Malachi spent his days and nights with the male, drank from him and only him, and slacked his own violent desires upon Laziel’s flesh, he locked away the most intimate part of himself even from the one being that would possibly understand and not judge. His Laziel. For his race and more importantly for his angel, Lachi welcomed the lonely life to which he relegated himself. The pain of what could never be hit him dead center of his chest. He focused on it, pulled it to the surface and allowed it to expand and combine with the rage.

  Reaching the top step, Malachi stopped and took a breath. He closed his eyes and pushed away all thought while relishing the cocktail of anger and pain that squeezed his chest in a vise grip. The knob turned easily under his hand, and he stepped into a dimly lit room. Candlelight flickered from various places, but the light was enough for him to see Laziel already on the Cross. Slowly, he closed the door behind him taking extra care to ensure it locked and bolted. Screams would bring visitors they didn’t need, the smell of blood questions they wouldn’t answer.

  Pain surged again screeching through his blood; pain that would soon be inflicted on the one waiting before him, one who willing bore it. Who sought it? Turning his attention to the small table set up beside the Cross, he strolled languorously across the room, to pick up the latex ball gag. With expert fingers, he fitted the large orb into fully expanded jaws. Buckles were already snicked into place. Without a word, he ensured ankles were locked against the ebony wood, manacled feet shoulder width apart. He admired the exposed and vulnerable taut ass. A growl of approval rumbled into the air. His hands smoothed up Laziel’s extended arms, checking the wrist restraints and pressing his still leather clad cock against the seam of the angel’s well rounded ass.

  This close to him, the female’s presence surged stronger. Malachi growled at the implications. Easing back into the shadows, he palmed the back of his black tee shirt and pulled it over his head. The implements on the table caught his eye as they gleamed in the light, but what he wanted he already held in his hand.

  “No speaking, no moving without direction, and no safe word, or I leave you hanging where you are bound.”

  Malachi prowled out of the shadows chest bare, biceps bulging with the quirt clasped lightly in one hand. He circled the angel bound in the center of the room. Laziel’s eyes picked him up and tracked him hungrily until he moved out of sight. He came to a stop a hairs-breath from the other and inhaled. Lust slammed into his nostrils a twisted mix of both feminine and masculine. What was the angel thinking, why did he allow the female to lurk so close to the surface? Surely, the escaped one did not bring forth such a tangle of despair that Laz could not control his feminine counterpart? He moved back around so he could see the angel’s face.

  Although Laziel hovered so close to orgasm it would only take one touch from Lachi’s firm hand to send him careening over the edge, the eyes betrayed him. Wavering between the stark white of anger and the dark chocolate of desire, they clearly conveyed to Malachi the turmoil running rampant through the angel’s mind. Malachi leaned close, and when those expressive eyes flowed to liquid midnight once more, he whispered, “What is it that you are trying to tell that he won’t?”

  And suddenly, she was there, her presence filling the room. Lachi almost took a step back, but held his ground as her voice filled his head. “Only time will tell vampire.”

  Mesmerized, he watched the darkness in those eyes flicker to light and back again, but she held on, not quite done yet. “Open your eyes my liege to see what is offered to you so humbly.”

  Confusion lit Malachi’s face. “What the hell?”

  But the female was gone. Laziel stared back at him, a snarl on his lips and eyes stormy with distilled rage. His voice roared into Malachi’s head. “Strike me while you can vampire and make it fucking count. You’re not the only one with needs.”

  Malachi quickly recovered himself and smiled sadistically exposing inch long fangs that glinted in the candle glow. “So, then you agree to the rules.”

  “There are no rules.” Laziel’s voice slammed into his mind. “Quit dicking around and get on with it.” The angel’s gaze hardened never blinking or breaking their locked stares. Malachi slid the quirt into his back pocket and reached for the nipple clamps lying on the table. His onyx gaze flicked to the already pebbled and straining peaks exposed by the wide vee of the cross. Faster than Laziel could track, Malachi ducked his head nicking each bud and suckling in the blood that welled? His tongue circled each one once a soothing balm before the clamp fastened wickedly on the abused flesh. A groan muffled by latex wafted into the room. Standing to his full height again, Malachi tugged on the chain attached between the two clamps pulling the nipples into tight peaks. The scent of desire notched higher. Malachi attached a small weight to the middle of the chain to maintain the vicious drag on the angel’s tender flesh and worked it down between the angel’s abs and the wood. A specially designed cock ring locked just under the bulbous head of the angel’s cock. A third chain rain from the small loop on the top to fasten to the weight. Lachi slid his hand between firm flesh and hard wood and palmed the center weight. He tugged exerting pressure on all three points. Laziel’s head dropped and air rushed harshly through his nose as he struggled to control the rise of his moans.

  Stepping around to the side of the spread eagled form, he reached for the ends of the long mane of hair that brushed Laziel’s plump ass. He grasped the mass in his fist and with expert twists wound the tumbling locks around his forearm until the celestial’s head arched backward exposing the long smooth column of his tantalizing throat. Malachi held the angel in that position and reached for the quirt. Mercilessly, he shoved it up hard between Laziel’s legs putting immense pressure on balls he knew were swollen and engorged. He smelled the arousal as it rose higher and higher.

  Taunting Laziel, Malachi drove the hard leather handle back and forth between thighs shaking with need, before fully rounding the X frame. He maintained the torque on Laziel’s hair as he stepped closer. His chest came to rest against Laziel’s back, his cock pressing into the sweet seam of Laziel’s ass. Malachi lowered his head; his lips finding warm skin. As his tongue trailed up the vein throbbing with angelic richness, he
ground his cock against the angel’s ripe ass. Trembling eagerness telegraphed to Malachi’s palm when he rested it against Laziel’s skin. Muscles flexed beneath him as his male arched his back begging for the engorged head of his cock to penetrate.

  “Not yet,” Malachi breathed and stepped away. He raised the quirt and flicked it twice raising two red welts on a firm ass cheek. The angel stiffened but maintained an erect position. Harder the second time, two sharp stinging slashes on the opposite cheek. Purring, the celestial arched his back even more offering the supple cheeks for more punishment. Malachi obliged until flecks of blood dotted the fiery red flesh. His cock throbbed painfully beneath his leathers and his fangs descended in direct response to the spilled blood. Hunger wrapped thick fingers of need around his throat. He leaned down to lick the blood that ran like tears on the bronzed skin. His movement pulled hard on Laziel’s long ebony locks bowing him backward. Laziel’s knees buckled at the first caress of Malachi’s tongue and he knew without looking the angel remained upright only because of the Cross’s wrist restraints. When the healing ingredients in his saliva stemmed the flow of blood, Malachi stood to his full height, his hunger unsated.

  His pain and anger mixed with Laziel’s own tumult boiled higher with each agonized beat of his heart. Forgetting the plans he’d carefully developed in his mind, Malachi loosened his hold on Laziel’s hair and grasped his still healing ass cheeks. Viciously snatching them apart, he rammed the head of his cock against the clenched entrance. A savage thrust and Malachi seated himself fully inside. Once again he buried a hand in the ebony tresses and pulled back hard exposing the vein pulsating rampantly in the angel’s throat. His other hand rose and harshly twisted the chin up and to the side.