Crimson Reign (4 page)

“I take it this means we're dining out tonight?” He tried to hide the full view of a somewhat devilish grin when the press of Lachi’s hard body rode up along the valley of his firmly rounded ass. The flare of his celestial scent fragranced the air with an aromatic bouquet, its thick heavy perfume, tantamount to the secretion of Laziel’s growing excitement. The release of heavenly pheromones cloyed the dense air drawing Lachi in flush against Laziel's beckoning flesh with the promise of sin and salacious sex.

“The only thing I need in my mouth is impatiently waiting inside your pants. Now quit with the teasing, or you know what'll come next.” The gravel rough Italian accent of Lachi's rich masculine voice undid Laziel. The moment the vampire uttered his words against the slightly pointed shell of Laziel’s ear, the angel growled his approval of the vampire's threat.

“Take me any way you need to, my liege. Would you like me tied or on my knees?”

Lachi refrained from the use of wasted words when Laziel gave him that all too familiar wicked grin. In an action so fast and fluid it defied the eye; Lachi launched himself from across the room to invade the well of his angel’s mouth, fastening the voluptuous swell of his ripened lips to Laziel’s smiling mouth. Eager to greet the claiming kiss, Laziel parted his lips for the vampire's greedy, seeking tongue. With a moan that caressed the air between them, Laziel submitted to Lachi's whim.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

Breaking the kiss, Malachi reared back to meet Laziel’s dark and hungry gaze. “I want both, angel. Now, get your ass in gear. I haven’t the patience to wait.” A cleared throat behind him brought Malachi’s head around swiftly and he growled. The two guards stood feet shoulder width apart and eyes focused straight ahead. Both of them rested one hand on the butt of the gun holstered at their hip. Malachi knew each clip contained specially designed silver bullets effective on human and vampire alike. He didn’t know why they bothered; the angel had ensured Malachi was well prepared to defend himself against either.

“One of you have a problem with me kissing the angel?” He prowled toward the sentries his foul humor preceding him. The chill of his wrath frosted the air causing their breath to mist as they exhaled. Neither showed by their expression who had drawn his ire. Swiftly, Malachi caught the male on the left by the throat and hauled him off his feet. “Your breath gives you away, Sentry. I can sense your agitation.” His fingers tightened, and he felt the muscles beneath his palm constrict as the male swallowed.

“Didn’t…” The guard gasped for air.

“Lachi.”

Malachi ignored Laziel, his attention solely centered on the vampire dangling from his grip. The savage beat of his blood sang for death, pleaded for the glorious release of power.

“Sire. Lance meant no disrespect.” Malachi’s head snapped over to the second guard’s face. The younger vampire kept his stare trained on the opposite wall, but his throat worked as he searched for words.

“Well, spit it the fuck out, male. I have an angel to fuck,” Malachi snarled. “Only question is will it be after I taste this one’s blood, or will you man the fuck up and explain.”

“He was overcome, Sire. The pheromones are rolling off the two of you in crushing waves.” A crimson flush rode up the sentry’s neck and stained his cheeks. “You only have to look to see the evidence.”

Behind him, Laziel sucked in air and as he tried not to laugh. Malachi’s gaze tracked downward, and with a mild oath, he stood the guard back on his feet and straightened his clothes.

“Just remember he belongs to me. You ever touch him; I’ll end you where you stand. We clear?” Both vampires nodded vigorously, their relief palpable in the air. Malachi reached behind him for the angel’s hand. The seething anger inside him quieted slightly as Laziel’s fingers twined with his own.

“You two go on ahead. You know the location. And Lance, no hard feelings.” Laziel buried his face in Malachi’s back, his laughter muffled against the silk shirt. In a rush of air, the sentries disappeared. Malachi knew they would be waiting at the prearranged location for his and Laziel’s arrival. With Darklon in a pissy mood, the angel would have them on a higher alert than usual.

Though he tried to quell it, the anger Darklon always roused in him swam thickly beneath the surface of his skin. He and Darklon hailed from the same area of Italy, a village in the Monti Prenestini range. When Malachi was a youngster, Darklon paraded through the streets drunk on power. Even then, he’d been an Elder, a trusted advisor to the King Malachi later dethroned. But, the bitter hatred between Malachi and the other male stemmed from another set of circumstances, another soul. A soul Malachi had rescued from Darklon's evil clutches. As evidenced by the display during the Council meeting, Darklon still searched for his underling. His search proved futile. If he ever succeeded in uncovering the truth, there would be a showdown between Elder and King. Malachi prepared every day for just such an encounter.

Restless and out of sorts, he turned to face his lover. “I can’t wait any longer. I need you.” Understanding dawned in Laziel’s eyes and a desire matching his own shone in the liquid gaze. In the blink of an eye, Malachi disappeared and took form on the street above their sumptuous chambers. Flicking a glance right then left, he set out for the small upscale bordello where he maintained a room in an assumed name. The proprietress, a vampire, knew of his proclivities and kept the room stocked and ready for use at a moment's notice. Malachi paid well for the services.

Three steps down the block, the angel took form at his side. With anger, lust and hunger riding him hard, Malachi stalked along the deserted streets. The rapid trek did little to lighten his mood. As he did on many occasions, he feared for the angel at his side, feared his savage nature would exceed his control and he would awaken to find Laziel broken and dying from the viciousness of his own black nature.

“Fucking HELL!” Lachi slammed a fist into the brick wall of the building on his right. He needed a quick fight, even with a human, something to lessen the brutality smothering him. Eyes tracking the shadows, he almost prayed for a Nephilim to appear. Nephilim, begotten children of the Fallen Angels, and bitter enemies of the vampire race. More sanctimonious than even Darklon, they ignored the uneasy truce between the human race and the myriad other races on the planet, especially the vampires. They spread horror stories of the vampires’ torturous behavior and ungodliness in their vile attempts to rid the world of vampires.

Their parents, the Fallen who were tossed out of Heaven but still retained full possession of their angelic gifts, sought out humans whose hatred of the vampires equaled their own. They bred and the offspring became their warriors. The Nephilim proclaimed themselves protectors from evil, yet greed, lust, and a depraved thirst for power contributed to the further corruption of the nearly angelic beings. Infused with the power of their parents, Nephilim hunted the vampires, and in the name of their religion, murdered without qualm any vampire they encountered.

Grief stricken family members struck back in violent rampages. Great losses were suffered on both sides and human casualties outnumbered them all before the Catholic Church intervened. A truce, signed by Pope Pius II and King Vladimir I, purported to end the bloody battles. Encouraged by the Catholic faith, other religions joined the treaty and an uneasy peace settled over the lands. In the nine hundred years since that treaty, the battle never stopped. It continued, only now it occurred in the shadow of night and would continue while Nephilim and vampires populated the globe. For reasons unknown, the Nephilim only targeted the vampires and largely overlooked the other preternatural beings that populated the globe; a fact that plagued Malachi in the darkest hours of the night.

As part of the treaty, vampires were assigned to enclaves in various sectors of the world. The sanctuaries, housed underground, were well hidden and protected from the sun and the Nephilim. For their part, the half breed warriors were forbidden entry to the enclaves. Unfortunately, they treated the agreement with the same disdain as they did the vampires. It didn't stop them. Once found, entire enclaves were wiped out by the Nephilim. As King, it was Malachi's duty to stop the murdering bastards before the vampire race became extinct. He and Laziel trained their guard and sent them to the other enclaves to pass on the knowledge. Every night battles raged around the world while the humans lived oblivious with the few exceptions of the church and world leaders.

A sharp whistle brought Malachi abruptly out of his thoughts. His head whipped to the right. Framed at the end of a shallow alley, a Nephilim glowed in the darkness, a smirk plastered on his face. Icy calm settled over Malachi as he rolled up on the balls of his feet and rotated his shoulders. It appeared Laziel’s Creator had been reading his thoughts. Behind him, the angel’s snarl rippled into the air. Without hesitation, Malachi stepped into the alley and strode straight at his enemy.

“So glad you decided to drop by, asshole,” he growled. In a wash of light from an overhead balcony, Malachi paused, fangs bared. The Nephilim paled slightly realizing he faced not just any vampire, but the King of the race. Obviously, Malachi’s reputation preceded him. He'd earned the throne by might, had taken it by force. Focused and deadly, he was the best the race had to offer. In hands on combat he was unequaled in strength and agility. Trained by the angel from an early age, there were few that could outwit him or outshoot him.

“Well come on, motherfucker. You obviously wanted to play, or you wouldn't have shown yourself.” When the half breed didn't budge, Malachi took a step closer only to feel Laziel's heavy hand clamp down on his shoulder.

“There are three more just outside the alley.”

“I know that,” Malachi scoffed. “I also knew your ass was riding' mine. Shall we dance?”

“Oh fuck yeah, thought you’d never ask!” Laziel leapt and arched over Malachi’s head. His wings flared, carrying him swiftly to land before the startled Nephilim. “Didn't your mother teach you it's not polite to stare?” With a slice faster than the Nephilim could track, the angel separated his head from his body with the striking blade of his summoned Katana.

While Laz was busy with the decoy, Malachi projected himself outside the alley taking form behind the three supposed ambushers. “Surprise,
fuktards
,” he drawled then grinned evilly when they spun to face him. “Let's do this, shall we.”

He leapt at the blond in the middle his fist landing squarely against the male's nose. A satisfying crunch of bone rewarded his efforts. In one continuing motion, he went down on one knee chuckling mirthlessly when the two idiots above him slammed into each other trying to reach him. A quick reach and grab had dumbass number one flat of his back and Malachi's blade buried in his chest before dumb and dumber could palm their own weapons.

Accustomed to fighting alongside Laziel, Malachi surged to his feet spinning right. He felt the rush of air against his skin as the angel covered his back taking the Nephilim on the left. Bloodlust colored Malachi’s vision giving everything a pink tinge. The Nephilim feinted right, a sad attempt to draw Malachi away from Laziel. With a sneer Malachi followed him, stalking the poor bastard like prey. The half breed leapt at him, sword swinging in an arc from right to left. Malachi’s knees crashed into the pavement and he bowed backwards dodging the blade. Faster than the male could track, Malachi buried his knife in the bastard’s belly and twisted, driving the blade through internal organs before slamming the spasming body onto the ground and yanking his blade free. As they rotated positions, the fingers of his other hand grasped the long blond hair and jerked brutally. The snap of the Nephilim’s neck crackled loud in the quiet alley.

 In less than a minute, Malachi and Laz stood back to back barely winded. In rapid succession, the three Nephilim burst into flames and turned to ash disappearing before their eyes.

“Damn that was too fast, must have been new.” Malachi holstered his blade and turned to face the angel. In one glance, the fight left his mind completely. Fueled by the adrenaline whispering through his system, wanton lust pumped heated blood into his cock. The angel’s eyes dropped to his hips and Malachi felt the burn of Laziel’s molten gaze.

“Keep looking at me like that, and we won’t make it to the bordello.” A look of potent desire crossed Laziel’s face, making Malachi’s now fully engorged shaft throb with need. Laziel reached for him, cupping the bulge tenting his trousers. A purr rippled into the air. As it always did, Laziel’s touch ignited his flesh flushing everything from his mind except the feral need to be inside the angel thrusting deep and hard. He knew his sexual proclivities were not the norm, but the angel accepted him, relished his touch, and withstood all that Malachi offered.

“Laz,” he groaned in warning. In response, the warm wet slide of the angel’s mouth running up along his throat nearly snapped what was left of Malachi’s control.

“Well, well, what have we here? I would have sworn vampires and angels were enemies.” The malevolent voice snapped the two of them apart. At the opposite end of the alley, another Nephilim stood, feet braced wide apart. Compared to the four they'd just dispatched, this male stood head and shoulders taller and was twice as broad. The fucker was big, bigger than any Nephilim they'd encountered before. Malachi stepped forward, fangs flashing in the streetlight.

“Looks like someone's been drinking steroid tea, Lachi. I think he overdosed. Bet his dick's the size of the spoon he used to stir it.”

Malachi's disdainful laughter bounced off the bricks of the buildings around them.

“You must be Laziel. I've heard of you. The Seraphim with a sad addiction to his vampire. And that makes you, the vaunted vampire King. Funny, I pictured you differently, not quite so... scrawny.”

The lit fuse of Malachi's temper reached detonation. He projected himself to the end of the alley, but his arms closed around thin air. Above him, the newcomer smirked, his large wings holding him aloft. The smirk didn't last long. Airborne as well, Laziel barreled into him slamming the male hard into the brick building across the street. Dust and bits of brick rained down on the parked cars. Alarms screamed as the sonic boom of their impact radiated outward. They grappled hand to hand.