Crimson Reign (35 page)

“It is if the young male expects to continue his visits to the King’s office.” Shaking his head, Malachi grasped Laziel’s elbow and tugged him backward.

“It is not required,” he started, but Roman surged to his feet and held out a hand to the angel.

“I vow upon my soul that I will hold Malachi Denali’s life more sacred than my own. I pledge my life, my honor and my loyalty to my King.”

Laziel gripped the young vampire’s hand and shook.

“Good choice, kid.” The lighthearted tone returned to Laziel’s voice. “Now can we have a drink and a Jolly Rancher, Batman?”

“I believe the formality is over,” Malachi chuckled before turning to Ms. Stroner. “If you’ll have the appropriate papers drawn up for our signatures, I think Laziel will be serving us all a drink.”

Malachi retreated to the large leather chair behind his desk. He hid a smirk behind his hand as Roman and Tobias watched his assistant leave the room. Arial took up residence against the back wall, his eyes tracking everyone’s movements.

“Tobias, there is a ball later tonight to celebrate Roman’s new position. We’d be honored if you would attend.”

“I appreciate the offer, Your Grace, but I didn’t pack for a formal affair.” A huge smile wreathed Roman’s face at that bit of news.

“I’m sure we can find ya something,” Laziel said handing the two males a drink. The grin fell from Roman’s face and appeared on Tobias’s full lips. Malachi took the snifter of Glenfiddich and inhaled the spicy aroma before bringing it to his lips. He swallowed a surprised grunt when Laziel fell into his lap. Twin looks of shock crossed the younger males’ faces. Arial remained stoic as always.

“Where’s my Jolly Ranchers, Batman? You hid them again.” Laziel wiggled his ass, causing Malachi’s cock to sit up and take notice.

“Bottom drawer, on the left. Now get your ass up, we have guests.” With a huff, Laziel gained his feet and rummaged in the drawer until he found the candy. “I want reports from you two every day. If the Nephilim have expanded their attention, we need to alert everyone. They have no mercy. Male, female, baby, geriatric, they don’t care. Roman, you’ve seen that first hand.” His gaze swung to Tobias. “I suppose you have too, if you visited the enclave. We need to stop this now.”

The soft click of heels announced Ms. Stroner’s return. She laid a single sheet of vellum on his desk. “Okay gentlemen, it’s time to sign.” Roman signed first, followed by Arial and Tobias. The Fallen bid them farewell and disappeared out the door. Laziel added his name with a flourish and the page rotated for his signature. Malachi put his pen down and looked up into somber faces. “It’s party time, youngsters. Go get your party clothes on. My envoy, Lorenza and I will see you at the Ceremony. Ms. Stroner, if you will accompany our guest to your apartment to refresh himself and change.”

“He can come to my room,” Roman blurted, but Malachi shook his head. “I think it best he stay well away from your father.” He caught Tobias’s eye. “Her welfare is important to me. Understand?”

Tobias snapped his eyes up to meet his and nodded.

“See you all later tonight then.”  Malachi inclined his head in dismissal as strong hands slid around his waist and pulled him back against a broad chest.

“Miss Lorenza will see you later, sexy.” Malachi whirled around, but the angel had already disappeared.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

Breathless as the shift into female form started, Laziel lay splayed across an ocean of rich purple satin. His body glistened in the glow of candle light, and he arched off of the bed, spine bending, lost to the lascivious enthrall of transformation. A sweet heady scent flooded the room and whispered moans filled the room as small feminine hands trembled over soft ample swells of voluptuous breasts. A halo of light pulsed over the female form now writhing on the duvet as soft mewling groans slipped from fuller parted, lips.

“Malachi…Lachi…oh Creator, it hurts. Please make it stop,” she panted. Her breath came in shallow rapid gasps as tears tracked down her flawless face. When a shockwave of pleasure coursed through her veins, Loz screamed. Her legs scissored as long elegant fingers slipped through the wet swollen folds of her labia and caressed the hardened nub of highly sensitized flesh. The friction of her fingers as they circled and pressed that erotically charged part of her sex sent Loz’s body into violent shuddering jolts that directed a flash of raw, undiluted sexual energy blasting through the room. The force of her release shattered the mirrors running along the wall and snuffed out the candles littered throughout the room.

In this weaker and more vulnerable form, Loz trembled from the intensity of embittered release and curled in on herself, letting tears, stained with sorrow track down the her angelic face. Her emotional state was a raw, open wound; she yearned mercilessly for the love of the male she and Laziel both worshipped and adored. A love the vampire King refused to acknowledge or reciprocate.

Alone in her suffering, Loz, curled into a tight ball and released the unseen restraints that fettered her celestial heart. The change usually invoked on orgasm though not always. She’d expected the rolling wave of climax, but the strength of it scared her.  Desolation followed it, leaving her weak, lost and raked by a longing Lachi would never understand. She whimpered; she nor Laziel would ever know how it felt to have that love returned. The capability for the vampire to love was there, engrained within the darkest part of the vampire’s heart. But, she feared Lachi had long since shut away any notion of love, solely out of fear.

Loz moaned as another tremor swept through her core, “Creator, please…make it stop.” Her fingers ground against the slick folds of flesh and eased into the heat of her core. A scream ripped from her throat. “AZARIAN, HELP ME!” Tears ran in rivulets down her face. “Dear Creator, it won’t stop. Please…”

Her inner wall seized around her fingers and she wept harder, trembling through each spasm until wave after wave of sweet scented release poured from her opening to coat her fingers in a wash of blistering angelic juices. When her breathing eased, Loz struggled to rise from the bed, but a swell of cramps rolled through her core sending Loz to her knees.

“Laziel…” She pleaded as pain ripped through her abdomen. “Laziel, please make it stop. Come back, please.”

Inside her mind, Laziel roared and struggled to the surface only for the strength of her need to bring him to his knees in defeat. This was why Laziel chose its masculine gender. As a male, he was safer, stronger and completely in control of feelings and senses. In male form, the seraphim warrior ruled, keeping the weaker part of its nature tamped down.

As female, those feelings and needs were exposed for all to see. They could and would be used against Lachi who would die to protect the angel in either form. Loz crawled back onto the bed, her skin damp and her hair plastered to her face. What was this? What was wrong within this form that held domination over Laziel? She tried to relax, to regulate her breathing and instigate another change to bring the warrior within to the surface. She tried in vain to summon up the will to change. But nothing transformed. For the first time in her celestial existence, fear touched her very soul. Feminine fists curled into the sheets and a low angry growl ripped from her throat. If she couldn’t change back, how could Laziel protect the male they loved more than life itself?

A wave of lust rose up within her.

“Creator, help me,” she moaned as her empty core clenched painfully with the need to be filled. The satin smooth feel of the sheets against her heated skin emphasized the yearning for sexual bliss. Her hips gyrated hard against the palm of her hand. She wept openly, wishing, wanting the only one who could abate her need.

“Lachi,” she whispered, and then moaned. Her breath hitched when her thighs parted and cool air brushed over the soaked, petaled flesh of her swollen core. Grabbing the pillow, Loz stuffed it over her face and screamed deliriously until the sheets beneath her were drenched and her celestial body glowed in the darkness.

When she finally calmed, Loz wiped away the tears and turned onto her side. Naked and trembling, she feared what was to come. Before the time the seraphim walked mortal Earth, there had been nothing to harm the form it had chosen to take. How was she to deal with such a dilemma? What was she to do if Laziel couldn’t take control? She knew without question Lachi didn’t desire a feminine form.

“Oh Creator, no. Nooo…” Unbridled tears swam in her eyes as realization dawned. Lachi would never want his angel while in female form. Loz was an adornment; nothing more, nothing less. It was the angel’s masculine entity, Laziel, the vampire craved, not some pasty soft female. Laziel’s uninhibited strength and fortitude enabled Lachi to be who he was. How in the hell was she supposed to protect him while stuck in what was supposed to be a female vampire’s body? She was in trouble, and she would have to call for help. But who could be trusted to watch over the only being known to have stolen the breath from an angel’s beating heart.

“Arial…”

As always, Arial remained the ever present choice. Resolute in his allegiance as Fallen and friend, the warrior’s plight worried them both, but they trusted him without fear. Even though having a place at Lachi’s court failed to lift the male’s tarnished heart, they knew he’d help.  Loz worried for her brethren and for Saul, Ms. Stroner, Tobias and Creator help her, for Roman. His turning up at the royal enclave was one thing they didn’t need. His very existence hung on a knife edge. She and Laziel had tried to oversee his safety, watching from a distance, guiding Roman through Mendeeto, until the day his safety could be assured. And, on top of all of them there was fucking D.D. and the daily task of staying one step ahead of Darklon’s deviant plans to see Lachi as a sex slave.

“Shit,” Loz groaned and turned on her back to stare at the ceiling. But, that wasn’t quite all. A new turn of events had occurred and the plot thickened further. With the arrival of the wolves came a new sense of unity, one Darklon and the Nephilim had seriously underestimated. The angel knew times were changing and as the war with the Nephilim threw them a curve ball; an ancient alliance now looked set to be reformed.

Loz thought back to the earlier adventure into Darklon’s disturbed and dangerous mind. The hatred the Elder harbored had always worried the angel, but now, lying in the darkness with time to think about what had been revealed, she planned to double up on the guards.

Darklon had made a fundamental mistake in bringing Roman into Lachi’s royal court. The vampire’s arrival opened up a very old wound, one Darklon had been unable to shield. Roman’s familiar appearance combined with the strength of his mind that had awakened the lustful rage responsible for sparking Loni’s descent. And, who did Loni blame?

“Lachi.”

In the deepest reaches of Darklon’s mind, the reason why he hated his King lay hidden. Love. Darklon’s love for another had turned bitter. He’d taken Vischeral Bourne to strike back at Malachi, turned him when he encountered an unfathomable strength of will, and then tried to break him. He’d never considered Bourne’s steadfast loyalty to Malachi Denali. For him, humans failed to harbor such lofty ideals. Friends for years, Bourne refused his every promise, his every advance. He’d fallen for the male and fallen hard. Convinced, he could change Bourne’s mind and invoke a return of his adore; Loni had virtually lost his own mind trying to break through the impenetrable shields protecting the vampire’s mind.

“Great, just fucking great.” Loz groused and shoved up from the bed as her body settled into a more manageable throb. “If it wasn’t bad enough growing a pair of tits and parading around in a dress, now I’ve got D.D. stuck in my head.” Loz growled, speaking Laziel’s oft repeated thoughts aloud. D.D., Dark and Dismal, the nickname Laziel gifted Mr. Oh So Fucking Lovely Bourne after his escape from Darklon’s clutches. As much as that handsome bastard’s love for Lachi stuck in the angel’s gut, it wasn’t in their nature to hate. Couldn’t, even though the thought of Lachi and Bourne together churned like battery acid deep in the celestial’s soul.

Pissed off on a Richter scale of, oh about, nine point nine, Loz rose gingerly, and slowly put herself through the rigors of female necessity. The ball in honor of Roman’s new status would be a formal affair and called for finery beyond that of Laziel’s favored, low slung jeans. After the skin baring slip of a dress she’d worn to the Elder’s Ball, Malachi had chosen the gown for the night’s ceremony. Loz opened the walk in closet and gasped at the beauty of the slim sheath on the hanger.

Shimmering black satin, with a full...length skirt that emphasized voluptuous hips, the dress boasted a corseted bustier that cinched in at the waist. Loz stepped into the dress and tugged it up into place. She laughed a bit as it threatened to spill over an ample amount of cleavage. Her breasts ached as her nipples pressed against the tight restrictive caress of the bustier’s fit. The sensation took her breath away and the caress of satin against her bare legs intensified the experience. But, the end result was visibly stunning against her creamy white bared flesh.

As Loz leaned into the mirror to fasten the single circlet of rubies Laziel favored around her neck, she noticed Lachi’s bite marks from the previous night had failed to heal or fade. While it was true she was weaker than Laziel’s more virile counterpart, they were one in the same. She still yielded an influential amount of celestial power. She should have already healed. Worry creased her brow as she ran the tips of her fingers over the reddened marred flesh.

Something was wrong, never in all of their centuries together had she failed to heal. A feeling of impending sorrow bore down on Loz. She stumbled from the weight of it. Weak…, she felt weak, more so than any other time she had shifted forms. With no time to question it or rein in the feeling of fear, Loz riffled through the vast array of chokers and chains before finding one thick enough to hide the marks on her neck.

Warm hands glided up over the creamy flesh of Loz’s shoulders and took the clasp from her trembling hands. “Always so beautiful, my angel.” My angel…the words whispered over the angel’s flesh and threatened to steal the breath from her heart. Love raw and undiluted for the vampire embracing her swam in Loz’s eyes. But, as much as she wanted to turn into him and slide her arms around his waist, the angel dared not move.