Blood Stained Tranquility (5 page)

She was his. Fate had decided it, and he now knew that her own symptoms had begun showing before her death. They called it a
R’mannev.
In reality, it was a total body–soul hijacking. A forced ownership that took over everything.

He ran his fingers across her cheek, watching the colors coalesce beneath his fingertips. Heat literally popped out of her, her aura seeming to
boil.
The walls and floor of the room began to shake again—a clear sign that she was still in there. That she could
feel
him.

His chest rumbled at the thought. Hunger attacked once more, almost robbing him of every ounce of civility he possessed.

More. Taste . . .

Fuck. He wanted to. So badly.

He cupped her chin and her full lips parted. She was definitely still in there, and she reacted to him even in that state. Absurdly pleased by that, Zeniel didn’t realize that his body had taken the reigns, that he was leaning down. Eve’s chest expanded with a deep breath, her breasts bumping against his chest.

He froze, groaning deep. His lips were already parting, and an odd tingle shot through his gums. He told his pathetic, perverted ass to stop, but did his body listen? Of course not. Especially not when Eve exhaled shakily, her sweet breath sliding between his lips.

Need. Taste.

Zen clenched his eyes shut so tight he thought his eyelids might tear. When he managed to open them again, his face was right next to Evesse’s. To his shock, he watched her lips part further, and he caught a glimpse of her elongated incisors.

He went instantly hard, his cock pushing angrily against his jeans.

“Eve.” Damn it, he sounded like an agonized animal. “You need to wake up for me.”

Trembling, and on the verge of doing something very, very stupid, he swallowed the saliva pooling inside his mouth. He accidentally pierced the inside of his lip with his teeth. The moment he tasted his own blood, his gaze shot down to her neck.

Damn near obsessed, he couldn’t tear himself away no matter what he did. Every pound of her artery went painfully through him, slamming into his cock. The tingle shot through his upper jaw again. He wanted to sink his teeth, sink them as deep as possible so he could . . . what exactly?

Drink her?

Dear gods, yes. The idea of her blood leaking out of her and sliding into him nearly felled him right there.

Holy shit. What in the—

“Wake up, please. You need to wake up.”

As soon as the last word left his mouth, Eve’s back arched up off the bed.
Toward
him. Her little nipples were hard, pushing against the gray tank top she’d been dressed in.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath, closing his eyes again. He couldn’t look. He had to pull away. There was no way he could claim his
R’ma
while she was in a freaking coma.

Right?

Taste her!

Shut the fuck up already!

God of Tranquility? There was no way he could be considered as such with what he was feeling. His lips brushed across her cheek, his tongue soaking in her taste for the first time.

“While I medically understand what you must be going through, I must admit that I find myself freaked out. The girl isn’t even awake to enjoy your . . .
affections.
”

Zen jerked back at the sound of Vedlyl’s voice. Slowly, he turned his head toward the God of Medicine.

“I was just stopping by to check on her, but if you need some more time with your
R’ma
, by all means—”

Zen dematerialized, reappearing in front of Vedlyl and slamming his blond, curly haired ass against the wall.

“Fix. Her,” he growled, not even bothering to hide his fangs.

“If I could do that,” Ved began, nonchalantly grabbing Zen’s wrists and moving his hands away, “she’d be awake already.”

The anger that coursed through Zeniel at those words made his extremities go numb.

“Zen, you need to calm down. Your eyes—”

“I know!” Zen’s scream was loud enough to make the walls shake.

A small whimper came from the direction of the bed. Heart racing, he flashed back to the bed and leaned over a scowling Eve.

“I’m sorry, little one. I’m sorry.” He ran his fingers through her thick black hair, brushing it away from her face. “Vedlyl, this isn’t a normal coma. She’s responsive.”

“We are aware of this. But her powers are—”

“Massive. I can sense them. What powers though? We both know that a God cannot exist at full power without a purpose.”

“I can’t answer that for you.”

He cracked his neck, trying to push back the roar building in his head. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

“I honestly
can’t
. I have no idea yet. All I can tell you is what Nylicia and I know. What
you
already know. Her powers, whatever they are, are expanding, morphing inside her. On top of that, her mind is replaying whatever happened in her past.”

Zen knew exactly what had happened. Remembering it made the burn at the back of his neck worse.

“ . . .
 
taking all that into account, it’s no wonder her body is overwhelmed,” Ved continued, stopping behind Zen and staring down at Eve. His neon green eyes traveled over her form, his pupils flashing between blue and yellow as he studied her.

Zeniel’s control was pretty much non-existent at that point, and standing there, staring at his female and not being able to do anything to help her had him on the verge of going nuclear. He felt like he was seconds away from losing control of Mavrak. He felt impotent, and considering his current state, that shit wasn’t good for anybody.

Especially his
R’ma.

“You will call me the moment she shows any signs of change.” It wasn’t a question. It didn’t need to be one.

“Try not to fight it, Zen. Trust me on that.”

Zen froze, feeling torn between using Ved as a stress-ball and begging him for advice. “I understand that what lies within you is as monstrous as what lies within me . . .”

“Even more so,” was Vedlyl’s solemn response.

“Either way, we both know that when it comes to control, you’re much better at it than I ever was.”

Vedlyl lowered his head, the sunlight glinting off his platinum blond hair. “If control is what you call it. The only reason I have it is because I do not fight what’s inside me. I feed it. In small doses, but I feed it.”

“So you’re saying that I have to feed Mavrak in small doses? Right. And figuratively speaking, how long do I need to ‘feed’ him in order to begin to control him? We’re talking centuries, aren’t we? Did you forget that my mate is lying in the bed behind you?”

“I did not. And it’s no one’s fault but your own. You’ve been suppressing him for . . . what? Eleven thousand years, almost twelve?”

“Roughly,” Zen said from between clenched teeth.

“Well, there you go. You have your answer.”

Choking the ever living fuck out of Ved was looking better and better by the second.

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you. I’ve been too busy to actually ‘feed’ myself lately, and conflict of
any
kind is the last thing I need. As you can see, I have a patient to take care of.”

“I’m going to have to isolate myself, you know that. If I let him out around any of you . . .”

“Your penance stare will rip us to shreds, Ghost Rider. I am aware.”

Zeniel cringed. “You need to spend less time with Cyake. Seriously.”

“Actually, he hates those movies. Probably has something to do with him being the Lucifer to your Johnny Blaze.”

“All right, that’s it. I’m out of here. You’ll call me the moment she shows any sign of waking.”
Or if she gets worse.
But he didn’t say that out loud. He couldn’t. “I’m also going to need something to bind myself. The only thing strong enough is
Gleipnir.
”

“Cyake has the binds in his room. Stole them from Asgard during his last visit.”

Zen rolled his eyes up toward the sky. “I’m not even going to ask. Just have him bring it to my room. And you will—”

“I heard you the first time. Call you the moment she shows any signs of change. Just make sure you’re accessible. Oh, and here’s some advice. Stop being a coward and find someone, or hell, some
thing
worthy of the punishment you’re going to dish out.”

“And when that
thing
is dead?”

“You find another. And another. I know you’re a peace loving male and all that, but there are things in this Universe that do deserve to be punished.”

The truth of Vedlyl’s words hit Zeniel with a blast of red-hot, furious clarity. It roused Mavrak and had him banging against Zen’s skull, each hit echoed by a roar and a name. Actually, a whole lot of names.

“Hmm. Your demon likes that idea, doesn’t he?”

“Do not fucking taunt me.” The world spun, and Zen’s grid began to change, shifting from the emotional spectrum and straight into the kaleidoscope-merry-go-round of sins. He barely managed to about-face right before Vedlyl’s past slammed into his processors. “Just have Cyake bring me the damned bindings.”

Chapter 4

Zen dematerialized into the upper level of the compound and straight into his room. There, he slammed the huge double doors closed so hard that cracks spread out onto the doorframe. His hands were shaking. Looking down at them, Zen watched violent tremors begin to spread through the rest of his body.

Unlike the cracks he’d left in the wall, they were not going to resolve themselves. The roars were awakening, burning at the back of his head. He leaned his forehead against the doors and dug his fingers into his hair, pulling on it and gnashing his teeth.

He wouldn’t even be able to leave the dimension unless he calmed down somehow.

Ignore it. Ignore it, 
he told himself in vain. Images clashed together in his mind, emerging and reemerging. It was a punishing movie that consisted of his sudden hunger for Evesse, his knowledge of her past, and her infuriating, but intriguing personality. She’d driven him insane while awake. She was still managing to do so even though she was in a coma.

More than anything, he couldn’t let go of her past.

Do it. Punish.

Zen growled, trying to push back Mavrak’s voice. 
No.

Do it! You know where to find the soul.

No!
 Zen yelled in his mind again, turning and sliding down to the floor with his back against the doors.

He rocked back and forth, trying to fight the voice inside him that was clamoring for vengeance.

Lucifer wouldn’t fight you. Not if you go with Crius. We know this. Get the soul. Punish him for what he did!

Sweat broke out along Zen’s skin, almost as if his body was trying to rid him of the toxicity spreading through his veins. He stumbled to his feet, nearly falling into a side table next to the wall. The statue on it was one of the first Buddha—Siddhartha—when he had been young. Zeniel managed to catch it, refusing to let a likeness of someone he’d once considered a close friend break apart. He righted the statue, making sure it was steady, before stumbling backward away from the table.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the holographic image on the other table, the one of his mother Persicutis. He looked away, not needing the ache that image caused.

She was another not avenged; another vengeance that you did not take. Let me out. I will avenge Mother. I will avenge our female.

“You will then move on to the rest of the world, killing them all in your hunger.”

It’ll stop the pain. They deserve to be punished!

“By the Gods, no.”

The roaring in his head got louder and a red haze started to overcome his vision. Zen knew it was only a matter of time. If he didn’t manage to calm down, even Mavrak’s voice would be lost behind the haze. It burned like acid as it grew stronger. The accompanying sound would become like a high-frequency vibration leaking into the crevices of his mind until he was scorched and pain turned to despair. Despair would then turn to anger.

Anger to agony.