by V L Moon
Enveloped within the pitch...black shroud of their room, Laziel lay still and listened to the erratic beat of Lachi’s heart. It matched Laziel’s own to a perfect pitch as the vampire slumped onto his chest and dragged them down into the cool satin sheets. He lay there, just breathing, sated from his angel’s blood and seed. Laziel stroked him, trailing just the tips of his fingers over the muscular, hard flesh of the vampire’s shoulders and lower to titillate the line of his spine. Lachi shuddered under Laziel’s tentative touch, and though it was something they very rarely shared, to Laziel the tenderness he bestowed toward Lachi felt right.
Turning onto his side, Lachi looked up at his softly glowing face, and Laziel stared straight back. He cupped the harsh line of Lachi’s jaw and leaned in to place just the whisper of a kiss to the vampire’s blood stained lips. In turn, Lachi closed his eyes and Laziel felt the tremor of fear that ran through Lachi’s veins. As an angel, Laziel knew love, true love. He’d experienced it the moment Lachi came to life within the palms of his celestial hands. But, love in its truest form seemed to either terrify or repulse the vampire Laziel worshipped and adored.
Slightly saddened by the fact, Laziel leaned back and brought Lachi in to lie swathed within protective wings that curled around Lachi’s broad back. Laziel wanted desperately to hear the words that rang so true in his heart, but knew not to push. What Laziel had was enough. It had to be. Just being next to him, feeling the life he’d gifted Lachi flow through his veins appeased Laziel’s need for love. For the moment.
“Something on your mind, Laziel?” Lachi’s words emerged rough with sleep, but Laziel didn’t want to broach the subject of emotion and love.
“Darklon mostly, and the repercussions of tonight’s slaughter and Elder enrollment.” Laziel sighed, knowing the lie would keep Lachi from digging for the truth, even if he did sense that Laziel had evaded the true subject perturbing his thoughts.
“Hmm, that motherfucker sure has a lot to answer for.” Lachi stirred as sleep eluded him. “I can’t fucking believe he petitioned his own son into my Council without notifying me of Mendeeto’s death. How the fuck did he know so fast? Something is sure as hell amiss; something neither Arial nor I caught wind of. How many more of my subjects must die for Darklon’s cause?” Frustration colored his voice and a stray hand moved to stroke Laziel’s thigh. “I should have killed him years ago instead of waiting. If I had, Mendeeto and his son would still be alive and Carmelishia would not be in mourning for the mate she’d spent the last millennia searching for. She’d been alone since her awakening and thought there was no one amongst the race for her. That changed when she met Mendeeto. But now, that’s all gone. How can I ever look her in the eye knowing who’s behind her family’s deaths? Fuck, that bastard. How many more Laziel…how many good citizens do I have to lose?”
The scent of Lachi’s anger scorched Laziel’s skin, but the full fury failed to manifest. Instead, a look of utter defeat shadowed the vampire’s face. The look of despondency deepened the emptiness of the vampire’s eyes until no spark of life remained. Laziel recognized the look as Lachi closed himself off to everything apart from the anger and hate.
“I’ll see to it that Darklon pays for this, even if it means me losing this throne I’ll take that bastard and his son down with me,” Lachi spat his vehemence as his fingers curled into the flesh of Laziel’s bleeding neck and pulled the angel against him. Lachi fed again, this time for comfort. And, as he did, Laziel cradled the vampire’s head gently against the vein that pulsed in his neck and cried the tears Lachi refused to shed.
“Bide your time, vampire. Listen to me and heed my words well. Darklon has no heir, the heart of that whom he calls his son does not bear the bloodline of your enemy. Roman was born to a human female, one that was already with child when Darklon charmed her using the power of beguilement. He used her, as more than a blood whore, and by the time she realized the depths of his depravity, it was too late. Pregnant and no longer of value, Darklon hid her in Mendeeto’s enclave as a blood whore. She was scared, lost and worried for her unborn child, a halfling. She forwarded a letter to me begging for protection.” Laziel bowed his head and nestled into Lachi as the vampire listened. His shock at Laziel’s revelation was palpable, but he did not interrupt.
“Part of being what I am made it impossible for me not to care. There was something about her letter that unsettled me. I visited Mendeeto, and under the illusion of Loz entered as envoy to your Council. Upon meeting the female, I secured her safety within the enclave. They agreed not to use her as a feeding vessel as the child she carried was potentially of the vampire race. She stayed, even after the child was indeed born vampire and reared it on the blood from her own vein. I kept track of her, and she updated me regularly, never once did she mention a visit from Darklon. I later learned she’d asked to be turned and went through her transformation well. The child grew up healthy and strong. That same child now holds a seat on your Council, his heart is pure and his mind…well let’s just say Darklon is a fool if he thinks this one will be easily swayed.”
Lachi let out a breath that had stilled within his cavernous chest and brought Laziel’s face around to meet his own. “And the father? You know who it is, don’t you? That’s why isn’t it? That’s why you’ve protected them for all this time? God, Laziel, why didn’t you tell me? I would have helped, brought them here and…damn it Laziel! You knew I’d bring them here?” Lachi questioned, his eyes burning bright with intrigue and light as he tried to make sense of what Laziel had disclosed.
“You couldn’t interfere, Lachi. Fate has its own course, and sometimes it has to be left to run the way it’s deemed. Otherwise, we risk upsetting the balance of things and altering the way in which things turn out. What I did was almost too much. You have to trust me…please. And, as for the father…” Laziel looked up and stared hard into Lachi’s eyes, wishing he could divulge, but knowing in doing so, it would alter the course of things yet to come. Roman was important, Laziel didn’t know why, but he was. Divulging the name of his father would change the course of events surrounding their own and Roman’s future.
“When the time’s right, you’ll know. Hell, I’m surprised you haven’t sensed it, but it’s not my place. Not yet.” With that said, Laziel kissed Lachi hard on the mouth. “Now, if I’m not wrong, you still have a little angst to get rid of. You want to fuck me or fight me, your highness? I’m up for either.” Laziel plastered on a grin and gave the male a wickedly seductive wink. Lachi laughed as he wanted him too, the earlier tension leaking away to reveal a glint of evil intent.
“You bring out the devil in me angel. I’ll never have enough of you. You’re mine, in every way, shape and form I can take you.”
The words were as close to ‘I love you’ as Lachi was likely to get and the thought of belonging to Lachi until the end of time uncoiled the tension that resided in his heart. Laziel loved relentlessly. An angel’s devotion was a curse as well as a gift, but loving Lachi the way he did was one curse he never wanted lifted. He moaned as he rolled over onto his back and Lachi rose up to straddle him. Almost casually, he cuffed Laziel's hands to the posts at either side of their bed.
Laziel grinned and sighed intently. “Did I ever tell you, I’ve actually met the devil and let me tell you this, vampire…there’s the devil and then there’s Denali, and darling, you put the devil himself to shame.”
A rumble of laughter filled the room as their bodies fused together again, replacing the seriousness with decadent moans of desire that carried on well into the night. Finally, when the sun streaked the horizon, their sweat soaked bodies lay sated and entwined as the vampire King slept and Laziel dutifully watched over him.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
By the time dawn broke, Laziel once again inhabited the celestial’s female form. As much as he opposed the alternative form, he knew the process had to transpire for the Elders to believe their King’s intention to take a female mate. They would witness Loz leaving and assume,
very rightly so, that intercourse had taken place.
Dressed in an expensive, black fitted suite that emphasized Loz’s voluptuousness and easily conveyed her status as envoy to the King, Loz made her way through the heavily guarded tunnel that separated Lachi’s private office and quarters from the Elder’s grand court and the rest of the enclave. Lachi towered over her as they played out the charade before the King’s most private guard. There was no pretense between them as they held each other and kissed passionately.
As they exited the walkways of the Elder’s court, Lachi placed a protective arm around her. Three of his most highly trained guards fell into position, flanking both sides of the walkway with Saul at the rear.
“When will you realize, angel that I don’t need to be protected?” Lachi’s growl came out as more of a statement than a question, but the enquiry stopped Loz dead in her tracks. She turned and stared up at Lachi’s frowning face and couldn’t help but sigh. God, he was beautiful, and the way his forehead creased when he frowned or scowled, made his face look a lot sterner than usual. The look had melted the hearts of many and stoked an inferno of possessive desire within the celestial. She paused to wrap feminine arms around the vampire’s thick neck and kiss him passionately for everyone to see.
“If I’m not here, then you will be guarded as I see fit. Now, stop whining like a bitch, and give your future mate a goodbye kiss.” Laziel’s masculine voice purred through Lachi’s mind, and the vampire indulged, by sliding his hands around Loz’s small waist and deepening the kiss. Oblivious to the passersby, they separated both breathless and smiling. Lachi guided Loz further through the enclave, parading her before Darklon who stood with a small group of his sycophants. Upon seeing their King, they quickly dispersed, abandoning Darklon and his son who watched warily. For good measure, Loz smiled and sent a rolling wave of pain in the form of a blown kiss toward the Elder who staggered back into the clutches of the male he called his son.
Lachi’s low rumble of laughter brought a wicked grin to Loz’s lips as the King led them down into the restricted area of the King’s private garage. Housed amongst other things, his limousine waited. Loz had to be seen leaving; however, by the time Lachi returned to his quarters, Laziel would be back in his rightful place, lounging in his favorite low cut jeans and virtually nothing else.
“Malachi, thank you for such a beautiful evening, we will have to do this again soon, si?” Loz’s smile smoldered and added a sparkle to the smoky depths of her eyes.
“I would like that; sooner rather than later. I’ll be in touch. Arrivederci, my sweet Lorenza.” Lachi took Loz’s hand and placed a chaste kiss on the back of it.
“Arrivederci, amore mio, until we meet again.”
With their goodbyes duly noted by the guards and any other spies lurking in the shadows, Loz elegantly slipped into the limousine and smiled as Lachi clicked the back passenger door closed.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
CHAPTER TEN
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
NEW YORK, NEW YORK
The desk job was killing him. After years of working the streets as a beat cop and dealing with the scourge of society that poisoned the streets, Cophious Dane realized the beat had kept him sane. Now, however, his mind revolted. Buried beneath a mountain of profile reports and outstanding warrants that dated back months, Copi cursed loudly to himself. This was not what he’d aspired to be. The dingy, damp office barely housed the torn up desk where he’d been ordered to work and made him feel claustrophobic as fuck. He swore the walls were closing in on him.
“Stupid ass wipes.” Copi slammed down another dust covered file and choked when a fine cloud of grime coated his throat and got into his eyes. The job was a right cluster fuck and Copi hated it. Massaging his throbbing temples, Copi groaned as his mind unconsciously flitted back to that God awful night when fate dealt him a shit hand and sent his whole world tits up around him. One encounter, one fucking chance encounter, landed Copi with a new title of the department’s odd ball.
He tried for the thousandth time to piece together the fragments of the night he’d left Jimmy Jack’s Whiskey House. Sitting back, he propped his feet on a piled up tower of case notes and closed his eyes. He clearly remembered walking across the smoky bar and taking the back exit into the alley. The buxom, peroxide blonde waitress that had been making a play for him all night waited for him, a smile as fake as her heavy make...up plastered across her face. Copi didn’t recall her name, wasn’t really interested in it, truth be told. He hadn’t been out there to marry the tart. He just needed to get off, and see if he fit into what was classed as normality.
Copi vividly recollected that he’d stumbled back against the wall of the alley as he tried to evade her hungry mouth. He never kissed them. Ever. The nameless female’s knowing smile and empty soulless eyes had looked like they’d seen far too much of life’s hardships. They’d haunted Copi ever since. She’d tried to kiss him a second time, the rancid stench of cigarettes and alcohol on her breath causing Copi to gag. She’d laughed at his attempts to deter her carnal mood and fingered his zipper as she’d fumbled in the darkness to get inside his pants.
Copi bolted upright at that part of the memory and sent the stack of files he was using as a foot rest scattering across the floor. “Great, just fucking great. What the fuck else could happen on such a perfectly shitty day, Dane?” More than a little pissed off; Copi reached into his desk and took out the small hip flask. The Jack was neat, just as Copi liked it. Taking a pull on the smaller than usual flask, he let the burn warm his insides and felt himself relax. The papers could wait. Not like he was going anywhere. He slumped forward on his desk; he missed the life as a street cop.
Yeah, he was still a cop, but his ass had been transplanted securely behind a desk. God, why couldn’t he have just zipped it instead of trying to make them believe what he’d seen that night?
Tired of the constant sneaky looks and sarcastic jibes about shadows in the night, Copi gave up on getting back on the beat. His contacts had dried up and the few friends he’d had suddenly had other things to do, or people to see.
“Whatever, like I ever needed any of you.” Copi berated the men he’d known most of his life. They’d as good as turned their backs on him after that night. He could still, even now, remember the foul stench of the alley. It had stayed with him ever since. If he closed his eyes long enough, Copi spiraled into the scenario of events that nightmares were made of, only for him, it had been real. Again, his mind returned to the alley.
Copi rolled his head back to rest on the alley wall and turned it to the side. He didn’t want to look as the halo of blonde hair lowered to his crotch. The thought of the female’s dirty mouth around his cock made him gag, but he needed release, something more than a hand job. A shuffling noise to his right brought his head up fast, and his eyes caught what he thought was the shining reflection of an animal’s eyes…only it hadn’t been an animal.
Closing his eyes tight, Copi tried to filter his memories as to what happened next. He’d expected to see a feral dog or cat that had been scavenging for food amongst the dumpsters. But that thought had quickly diminished when it reared up to a monumental height and began to move from the shadows of its hiding place.
Sweaty hands gripped the creaky wooden armrests of his chair as a light sheen of sweat broke out over Copi’s brow. He breathed deeply as his body started to shake. The memory of the clouds shifting to shower the alley in a wash of silver moonlight always unnerved him. The illumination revealed the stalker in the midst.
It snarled a loud guttural sound that clenched Copi by the balls. In all his time as a cop, he’d never been as afraid as he was in that moment. The motherfucker stalked toward them, its eyes reflecting the moon’s ethereal glow. Copi saw them shining like polished discs of silver; they seemed to draw him in, entice him. The moon highlighted the strange face as it growled again, exposing razor sharp fangs protruding from its mouth.
The female between his legs had been oblivio
us as whatever the fuck it was stalked toward them. But, the sight of it had sobered Copi instantly. The cop in him mentally recorded height, weight and build. Sweet Jesus, the thing was huge, built like a brick shit house and then some. As it approached, Copi recognized it was clearly male. The perp approached stealthily, his eyes transfixed, refusing to leave Copi. A continuous low growling came from deep inside his chest as he closed the gap between them.
As the memories surged forward, the air in Copi’s office grew thick and unbearable. It cloyed his skin, making him reach for his tie to loosen its grip on his neck. He balled his trembling hands into fists and tried to steady them before reaching into his desk drawer and pulling the hip flask of Jack out again. Finishing what was left of the alcohol; Copi calmed as he leaned forward and rested his head in his hands.
Come on, Copi, you have to do this. You have to remember. They all think you’re crazy, but you know. You know what you saw was real.
Taking long, slow, deep breaths, Copi tried to gain control of his thoughts and his trembling limbs. Years of being on the streets coupled with a strict training regime had paid off. Copi’s body was a power house of muscle and brawn, and even though he had his vices, he always took care of his body. Running his hands through the unruly mop of jet black hair, Copi trained his vision on the desk blotter, concentrating on one particular spot as he tried to picture the image of the stranger’s face. Everything else was there, burned in to his subconscious like an imprint on his brain. Fuck! Every night before he passed out, he saw the same form as it approached him. But, when it came to describing the bastard’s face, Copi always drew a blank. Every. Fucking. Time.
