Crimson Reign (16 page)

Laziel’s eyes widened, the pupils expanding as he soaked up the powerhouse frame of immense muscle adorning Lachi's glorious body. Damn, the guy was huge. Every inch of him packed tight with hard bunched muscle that moved and flexed with every miniscule movement of his body; a body Laziel ardently craved. Closing his eyes briefly, Laziel reined in thoughts of his Achilles’ heel…on Malachi Denali.

For over four hundred years, he’d been Lachi's only personal guard. The one being that kept a constant twenty...four hour vigil over the person, or rather, vampire that owned a lot more than the celestial heart beating in his chest. Bonded at Lachi’s creation by an oath forged by breath and blood, Laziel swore to protect and serve the vampire, foretold in the scripture of the Creator, to be King. Scripture Laziel owned to this day even though it had never been read. Laziel had no need to read what he already knew.

Before Lachi ever came into being, Laziel knew his calling, a joining of angel and vampire, one born of light the other created of blood, both bound eternally together in a fight to save a race burdened by the decree of death. A death that if served on either one of them would kill them both, so was the tie that bound them.

Billowing steam filled the marble shower room. The stinging spray of hot water brought Laziel firmly back into the here and now. Lachi stood shadowed by the clouds of steam, his body gleaming, and covered in soap suds that taunted Laziel as they snaked south to curve then spill over the globes of Lachi’s gorgeous ass. Laziel’s cock hardened in response. The bruising over his vampire's ribs was already firmly in place which was more than Laziel could say for Lachi's nose and a few disfigured digits.

Placing two hands against the smooth, cool tiles, Laziel bowed his head between the width of his shoulders and let the blistering spray pound against the tightly packed muscles where his wings hid. All Laziel wished for, hungered for, stood not twelve inches away. Laziel needed only to reach out and touch. Breathing hard to control the feminine urge rising inside, Laziel quashed the fetid tide of hungered desire and stood directly beneath the searing hot spray, hoping the scalding burn would somehow dampen the wanton desire firing in his veins. No such luck.

Malachi's hand slid up over the taut frame of his back and sent a flare of burning need shooting through every tensed up nerve already calling for his male. His body sang with the celestial song born of need and love.

“Laz?” His name on Lachi's lips more of a question than a calling. Trembling, Laziel gulped, the audible exhalation hidden by the explosion of an expressive, long sigh. Laziel ground his teeth and fought the urge to let his gaze wander over the well muscled extremities of Lachi's magnificent body. He lifted his gaze and met the stare of the male he’d vowed to protect. The hunger in those onyx depths mirrored the mutual desire residing in Laziel. Lachi's eyes lingered on the only true gift of love he would allow Laziel to freely give…his vein.

Reaching up, he placed a warm, wet hand to the smooth contours of Lachi's face. Laziel’s eyes burned with the power of his adoration for the male; the intensity of his emotions made Laziel’s heart squeeze painfully. “I will wait for you in the library.”

No more words were exchanged. With head bowed, Laziel retreated through the stinging bank of boiling steam to await the hungered blissful bite that would grant the angel a release of torturous bliss.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

The entire length of his bulky frame throbbed as Malachi walked from the locker room to the shower area. Fresh bruises decorated his flesh and dried blood flaked off falling to the floor. He grinned despite the aches and pains. Per usual, Laziel had given him a true work out. Malachi relished their sparring matches. They reminded him of his childhood spent in constant training with the Elite Guardian. Even more than the sparring, Malachi looked forward to the down time afterward.

With Laziel, he could be himself. He didn't have to divide his attention among myriad other things or keep his guard up. The added benefit, he had the angel all to himself and no worries weighed on them. From his first memories, Laz had been Malachi's constant companion, mother, father, teacher, mentor and friend. He loved the celestial as he loved no other; trusted Laziel beyond words. When he’d taken the throne, by force, their lives became more chaotic as duties and pressures pulled them in a hundred different directions. Though Laz very rarely left his side, almost always a menacing presence over his shoulder, there was little opportunity for relaxation. The matches provided one such space of time.

Only one other occasion afforded them the same privacy as their matches: the feedings. Malachi fed only from the angel. At first, he did so at Laziel's insistence, but now, Malachi wanted no other. He knew other vampires drank from various sources some of them in a single night. He didn't understand them. When he craved, he craved Laziel's blood. As if conjured by his thoughts, a powerful pang of hunger knotted his insides.

“Well hell, Lachi,” he cursed himself, using the angel’s shortened form of his name. The shower would have to be quick. Reaching the doorway of the shower, Malachi met a swirling cloud of steam that ebbed and flowed as if breathing. Evidence Laziel had beaten him to the hot water. Gliding through the mist, Malachi moved unerringly in the direction of his lover. Their blood bond practically lit the way to where the angel lathered up to wash off the sweat their workout raised. Snagging a bar of soap, Malachi stepped under the nearest nozzle and set to work ridding himself of the grime and gore.

Another pain stabbed through his abdomen making him curse under his breath. The strength of his hunger reminded him he'd waited too long. Again. Once awakened the blood lust only grew worse, paining him until assuaged. He replaced the soap and stepped toward Laziel without bothering to rinse. As he neared the angel, the intoxicating scent of Laz's blood stirred the hunger writhing in Malachi's gut.

Raising his hand, he trailed it up the wet skin of the celestial’s back. His mind registered the silky feel of Laziel’s flesh and the steel strength of the muscle underneath. With concentrated effort, he reigned in the sensual side of his nature, and uttered Laz's name. It only took a look for the angel to know what Lachi needed from him. Something flitted in the angel's eyes. Pain? Before Malachi could ask, Laziel informed him that the feeding would be in the library then disappeared into the steam.

Under the spray once again, Malachi rinsed the soap away and gave his hair a cursory wash. Worry for Laziel now warred with the hunger. Hurrying from the shower, he wrapped a towel around his lean hips, but the dressing room was empty. With a soft curse, Malachi flung himself through the ether directly to their bedroom. Another empty room. Quickly, he exchanged the towel for a black silk robe, and strode into the library.

A fire danced merrily in the hearth when Malachi stepped into the appointed meeting place. A chair sat before the flames and kneeling before it was Laziel. The expanse of the angel's long lustrous hair splayed like a sheet of black silk as the angel finger combed the strands to assist with the drying. Laziel didn't turn at Malachi's entrance; the angel simply waited. After crossing the floor, Malachi sank into the provided chaise lounge, shoulders still tense. A brush appeared over Laziel’s shoulder bringing a smile to his face.

Many nights had been spent in these same positions. Loz, the angel's feminine incarnation, loved having her hair brushed. Since Laziel was the more dominant of the two identities, it was most often he who sat before Malachi's ministrations. It was one small thing he could do for the angel that the celestial truly enjoyed. Malachi owed the male so much. A few hours spent handling a brush seemed trivial in comparison. Besides, Malachi found the task soothing.

Taking the brush, he carefully worked it through the heavy mass. Neither of them spoke, lost in their own musings. When it hung in shiny curtain of ebony satin down Laziel's back, Malachi sat back spreading the long tresses over his lap. Lulled by the ambiance of the fire and the rhythmic brush strokes, the blood hunger no longer pained him as it had in the shower. Yet, it still lurked just beneath the surface.

When the soft click of the brush hitting the side table echoed in the room, Laziel reached up with one hand and pulled the curtain of hair to the side, exposing the strong bronzed column of his angelic throat. Malachi leaned forward, his fangs elongating, his mouth watering for the first joyous taste of his angel's blood. He slid a hand onto Laziel's shoulder then down onto the angel's chest. Reverently, he tugged Laziel back and settled the angel between his spread thighs. His tongue laved over the pulsing length of Laziel’s vein, his saliva preparing the area for his bite.

He knew the angel felt a tingling, electric sensation; they'd discussed it a few times over the years. Firm lips brushed the intended target, a signal to Laz of where he intended to bite. Beneath his palm, Laziel’s chest rose and fell to the rhythm of a heart that pounded strongly against Malachi's palm. Swift and sure, he struck, his fangs sliding deep into the angel's throat. Malachi sucked hard filling his mouth with the tangy metallic flavor of Laziel’s nourishing blood. A moan drifted into the air. His? Laz's? Unsure, he moved to release Laziel, but the angel's large palm cupped the back of his head holding him to the celestial’s throat.

“Drink.” The angel's deep baritone brooked no argument. Deep in the thrall of the hunger, Malachi relaxed again cradling his angel to his chest as he drank. The quiet intimacy of the moment soothed his weary soul. The close contact with the person he loved most in the world eased the aching loneliness in his chest. Here, with Laziel, he'd found his one oasis of peace.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

Firelight glistened reflecting off the many unique antiques and tapestries adorning the sumptuous library. The oxblood furniture along with the warm overtones of the cherry wood bookshelves parlayed comfort and seclusion, the opposite of the outside world. Everything that bound them together lay eternally ingrained within the many different pages of each unique book that lined the walls. A warming glow shimmered around the room from candle and flame. This was Laziel’s sanctuary; the only place a celestial and King experienced a perfect world meant for two.

In front of the roaring fire, he sat, transfixed by the flames. Delicate waves of simmering heat rolled over his glistening skin, but the burning ache in his chest felt no warmth from the lick of the flames. Here was the angel’s shelter, a place where things were made better and stronger and where the ghost of an angel’s love danced in the darkened shadows. Laziel was lonely. For hundreds of years, he’d yearned for the one constant in his life to give something, anything, to show that the heaviness weighing down his heart would one day be returned by the vampire.

So easy to love, but the drowning consumption of his love for the King slowly tore at the purity of the angel’s heart. Naked, with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, Laziel felt no shame or discomfort in his masculine nudity. When the enticing flicker of Lachi's hungered tongue played over the surface of his beating vein, stirrings…deliciously sweet and highly intoxicating, won over the customary routine of Malachi taking his vein. Something inside Laziel changed. Every tantalizing lick of Lachi's smooth warm tongue brought on round after round of low pleasured moans that softly lifted, filling the surrounding ambiance of the fire lit room with a delicate scent of the angel’s arousal.

Its purity sent a spread of ambrosia sweetened air over each dip and muscled curve of their virtually fused forms. Any notion of gaining control of the incredible swell of feminine emotion vanished. Laziel’s body glimmered, emanating a halo of soft golden light. The hidden feelings he harbored for Lachi spilled forth, allowing the shimmering apparition of his femininity to draw forward. Lachi drank deep unaware of the change taking place within the passion fuelled safety of their private place.

Lorenza, Loz to the vampire King, arched the line of her spine, relishing in the inviting warmth of Malachi’s addictive bite. The small purr from deep within his throat as he drank deeply brought a feminine sigh of contentment. The instant Lachi retracted the long ivory length of his fangs; Loz pined, missing the wondrous glow of their joining. The warmth of Lachi’s tongue again rode over her throat to close the punctures. When he leaned back, she shifted. Slowly, with the dark rich glow of her eyes diverted in a somewhat submissive pose, Loz turned and placed a slender hand prominently over the solid strong beat of Lachi’s heart.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

Malachi raised his head from Laz’s…he blinked once, twice…Loz’s throat and pulled back slightly keeping his confusion firmly in check. Over the centuries, Loz had made numerous appearances, but never during a feeding. Eyes downcast, the angel's feminine form turned placing a dainty hand over his heart, and then stilled. Malachi covered the hand with one of his own.

“Good evening Loz,” he murmured low. The angel's head dipped in acknowledgement, but she refused to speak. Malachi studied the bent head. Sadness seemed to permeate the air around his angel. WTF? With great care, he tilted the familiar yet more fragile chin up so he could see into the celestial's eyes. Tears swam in their depths. The same loneliness that beat in his chest dwelled there in the gaze so intently locked on his. The concern he felt earlier instantly slammed back into his frontal lobe.

Though in female form, this was still Laziel. The angel was hurting and Malachi, self...absorbed in his own troubles, failed to notice. Without a second thought, he pulled the angel into his lap tucking her head beneath his chin. The soft curves easily conformed to his larger frame as she snuggled into him. Sitting back in the chair, he settled them both more comfortably, keeping his arms loosely linked around her more slender form.

He wanted to ask questions; find out what if anything, he could do, but he refrained. If Laz, or Loz, wanted him to know, eventually, the angel would spill. Otherwise, he would only be interrupting their quiet time with useless questions. So, he remained silent, comforting the angel the only way Laz allowed. Only the snap and crackle of the fire broke the quiet. Sated by the feeding and warmed by the fire and Loz's naked form, Malachi drifted to sleep.