Crimson Reign (20 page)

His lips quirked. “It seems I have been remiss in my duties, Ms. Stroner. Thank you for the advice.”

Kimberly flushed a delicate shade of rose. “I’m afraid it was Darklon who noticed. I overheard him bragging to his cronies that you were defeating yourself with that dark scowl and ferocious temperament. He is only dancing with your…with Loz because he wants to draw a reaction from you.”

Malachi swung his secretary under his arm and brought her back flush against his chest. “He should be careful. Loz is dangerous and not to be trifled with in any situation. It is why she is my Ambassador.”

In the middle of the dance floor, a pained groan swirled higher than the music. The dancing couples parted and Loz stood in the middle of the opening, Fangs bared and hands on lush hips. Darklon writhed at her feet, his hands clutching at his head.

“Make it stop, oh God, make it stop,” he mewled between convulsions.

Several of the male’s friends pushed through the crowd and knelt beside him. They tried in vain to control his flailing limbs. Taking his time, Malachi strolled to Loz’s side. Together, they bent as if checking on the stricken vampire.

A fierce feminine voice sounded in Malachi’s head. “My loyalty is to my King, you treasonous bastard.” When the others flinched, he knew Loz mind spoke to them as well. “If you ever try to invade my mind again, I will cut you down where you stand.” She flicked a disdainful gaze over the Fallen male and his friends. “Surely you didn’t think Malachi would choose a weak willed female as his mate. Your miscalculation almost caused your death.” She rose with all the grace and dignity befitting a queen. A reassuring smile radiated to the onlookers.

“He’ll be fine, everyone. A small seizure.” At her words, Darklon slumped against the hardwood floor. Harsh breath sawed in and out of his lungs.

Shielded by Darklon’s underlings surrounding them, Malachi landed a fist on the Elder’s chest and gave him a nasty smile. “Magnificent, isn’t she? Just be glad you didn’t get overly handsy with her, or you’d be spitting out your balls right now. After which, I’d have cut your heart out. Touch her again and die. Relatively simple instructions. Ciao, bastards.”

Shoving to his feet, Malachi located Loz standing alongside Ms. Stroner. He strode in their direction, forcing a smile to curve his lips. “Two beautiful females shouldn’t stand so close together. You’ll make the masses jealous.”

A possessive arm snaked around his hips and Loz purred. “No one is looking at us with the imposing and dynamic vampire King strutting around as if he owned the world.”

Something flickered in the angel’s eyes. His brows drew together as the evening’s peculiar ambiance washed over him.

“If you two will excuse me,” Ms. Stroner inclined her head in respect. “My date is waiting. Sire, please remember what we spoke about.”

At his side, Loz bristled. The arm around his waist grew tighter. Finding the bare skin of her back, Malachi trailed his fingers up the column of her spine as he addressed his secretary.

“I will keep your suggestions in mind, Ms. Stroner. They were very valid points. Please enjoy the rest of your evening.” When she walked away, he turned so he stood face to face with his angel. He couldn’t hide the smirk. “You tell me to behave and then flatten the male in the middle of the dance floor?”

She shrugged and gave him an impertinent wink. “That’s because I wanted to have all the fun, Batman.” She sobered and closed the distance between them. “He’s got something planned for tonight. I could see the eagerness in his mind before I put him on his ass.”

His head came up and rotated to where Darklon had regained his feet. With his composure shot and his clothes disheveled, the male shoved through the crowd toward the restrooms. His fury stained the air behind him. Fear wormed its way into Malachi’s gut.

“Congratulations Loz darling, you just made his shit list.” He leaned closer in the guise of kissing her neck. “You must be extra careful in this form now,” he whispered low. “As female, he sees you as weak. And, given you just publicly announced yourself as my mate, you are a target, a prize he will not be able to resist.”

Delicate fingers threaded into his hair and tugged until he lifted his head. “Have you forgotten who you are talking to again, my Azarian?” A sharp, quick slap in the cheek made him growl. “I’ll send the fool up in an inferno if he dares lay a grimy finger upon my person. Weren’t you listening when I told him as much?”

Frustrated by her refusal to listen and the unaccustomed dread lurking in his solar plexus, he reached up to grab her hands and tug them down between them. Conscious of the partygoers standing nearby, he tried to keep his voice low.

“I forbid you, rather Loz, to be out alone. In this form, you are restricted because of the image you must portray. If he learns your secret, the pressure to mate and produce an heir will increase tenfold. We must focus on the Nephilim and the safety of the enclaves. We don’t have time to play rescue the maiden.” A black cloud of foreboding fogged his vision. Sensations swamped him, fear, hunger, loneliness, betrayal, hurt, anger, all there and gone in a flash. It took a second for the fury roiling off the angel to register.

“You forbid me?” Red eyes replaced the dark chocolate. The angel was pissed and didn’t give a shit who heard. Malachi took an unconscious step backward. “Who the fuck do you think you are to forbid me anything?” Two small delicate hands gripped the front of his tuxedo jacket and nearly yanked him off his feet. “I go where I want, when I want.”

Malachi arched a brow and locked long fingers around slight wrists. “I. Am. Your. King. Loz.” He bit the words out, emphasizing each one. The red faded from her eyes and she ducked her head. Her fingers loosened from the material and she spoke in louder tone.

“My liege, I beg your forgiveness. The Elder upset me. I will do as you ask, please do not beat me.” The docile act did not fool him for a moment, but the breathy excitement on the last two words, that was all Laziel. He smothered the grin as gasps of surprise and outrage came from those closest to them.

“My darling female, you know I only use the whip when you beg me to. Now come, let’s get some champagne, we are here to celebrate.”

Glasses in hand, they watched the vampires and humans twirling and swaying from one side of the massive room to the other. The unease he’d experienced earlier throbbed back to life. Surely, the treasonous fool wouldn’t plan an attack at the ball. On the verge of voicing that question to the angel, he paused as a commotion near the entrance steps grew louder and diverted his attention. Not surprisingly, Darklon stood at the threshold arguing with the maggiordomo. With a show of fangs, Darklon wrestled the microphone from the human male’s hands and turned with a false smile full of benevolence.

“Ladies and gentleman, dignitaries of both races, it is with great pride, I introduce to you, Roman Di Sangue, my firstborn son and heir. Tonight, by majority vote, it has been decided that Roman shall be joining the esteemed ranks of the Vampire Elder counsel as Elder of the South American enclaves.”

A rousing cheer erupted from the crowd, but immediately quieted as Malachi’s flute of amber liquid shattered on the floor. Enraged, he failed to hide the vampiric qualities that perched him a rung higher on the evolutionary ladder than everyone else in the room. He glided through the crowd, making no sound. The chill of his anger cleared the way before him as humans lunged to escape his notice. Vampires froze unwilling to draw his gaze by chance. Red bathed everything, indication his eyes glowed a blood thirsty red. Fangs teased his lower lip.

The South American enclave was Mendeeto’s territory. Fear and suspicion warred in his gut. Something had happened; something he hadn’t been told about yet. He needed to leave, to contact Mendeeto. The Elder had declined attendance because he didn’t want to leave his son. Behind him, he felt the angel’s sorrow slam into him, and viciously shunted it away.

When he reached Darklon’s side, he held out a hand for the papers the Elder clutched. He didn’t need to read them. He knew who’d signed them, the ones loyal to Darklon’s camp. Electricity danced through his system. He could easily send the sheaf of white up in flames, but the gloating bastard before him would only have them signed again. A half turn allowed his eyes to sweep the gathered vampires. What the fuck was wrong with the lot of them? Could they not see the madness dancing along the edges of Darklon’s mind? Did they not wonder about Mendeeto? His gaze flicked to the son who stood stoic behind his father. Ignoring Darklon, Malachi took the arm of the new Elder and hauled him into the lobby.

“You had better pray I find you are not duplicitous in whatever has befallen Mendeeto. This appointment shall not be approved or even considered until I have full report on MY Elder’s status. If, by some chance you are to fill this slot, I hope you understand that an Elder’s responsibility is a massive one. I hope that you volunteered for the duties inherent in this position.” Malachi circled the younger Di Sangue. “You were elected to this Council without my knowledge which means you start out at a severe disadvantage. I trust very few individuals and by your actions, I distrust you immensely. A true male of substance would have made his intentions known to his King instead of sneaking in the backdoor on the coattails of his conniving, sniveling father.”

The young vampire’s eyes flared in anger.

“Do not make the mistake of underestimating me, young one. I am not the fool your father believes me to be. I tolerate him because his antics amuse me in the wee hours of the morning when I cannot sleep. His comedic relief is rapidly dwindling of late. Let’s hope, for your sake, you inherited something from your mother and are not a complete waste of my time.” Darklon gasped in outrage and Malachi swung his gaze to meet the older vampire’s sneering face. “You better pray, and pray hard, that whatever has befallen Mendeeto cannot be traced back to you. I will have your head and your heart placed on spikes outside my office if I so much as smell your taint.”

As he finished speaking, Loz appeared at his side, her long cape once again covering her dress. “Darling, I have an early meeting in the morning. Do you mind seeing me home?”

Knowing his temper wouldn’t last through the cover trip to the apartment; he pulled her hand through his arm and led her to the opposite side of the wide lobby. “I was hoping you would spend the night. I made private arrangements for the two of us.” He shoved open the door marked “Authorized Personnel Only” and ducked through to the stairwell. Down two flights of stairs, he hit the bar of another door and emerged into the cavernous central entrance to the Vatican Enclave. Free of human observation, he snatched loose the bowtie at his neck and shoved it in his pocket. The jacket came off next.

“Fucking son of a bitch.” Bile curled in his belly as he stalked through the nearly empty chambers. Loz trotted along at his side without a word. “I want to know what happened to Mendeeto. The South American enclave didn’t need a fucking Elder when I left here.”

His office door crashed open flung by his will. The computer hummed into life with a few flicked switches. Fingers flying, he called up his email. Tragic words and heartrending photographs filled the screen. Ice gushed in to smother the flames of his temper. Hollowness filled his chest. Mendeeto’s broken body filled the monitor’s face. Surrounded by dead Nephilim, the vampire’s head lay separated from his body. In the first picture his mate, Carmelishia prostrated herself over her male, her eyes turned to the camera ran red with bloody tears. The next picture broke him. The eviscerated body of the Elder’s two year old son disappeared when his fist crashed through the screen. Malachi’s roar shook the very foundations of the Vatican. The chandelier in the hallway chimed dangerously and dust rained down on the leather furniture.

“Malachi!” He spun around to see Loz, minus the cloak, standing behind him. “Remember the humans are still above us, the party isn’t over.”

“He killed an enclave to give his son a seat on my Council.” Thick with his growl and hampered by the extended fangs, his words barely made sense, but the angel understood him.

“I know. But if you attack him now, it will not serve the race. There are too many paparazzi above, too many dignitaries.”

Malachi sucked air between his teeth and moved to go around the angel.

“You are staying here Lachi. We will find release the way you always do.” Her nails bit into his hand hard enough to draw blood. She brought his arm up and sank her fangs into the flesh around the wound. The invitation in her eyes leapt at him as she took a long draw of his blood. With great care, he worked his hand free of her grip.

“I need Laziel in my chambers.” With a slight bow, he willed himself from the office and took form in his private bedroom. Armani sailed into the corner discarded and forgotten before it hit the carpet. Drawers were yanked out and implements tossed onto the bed. Steady grumbling reached his ears and a naked Laziel stomped into the room.

“Laz get Loz, Loz get Laz, make up your fucking mind what you want vampire, I ain’t your damned private dating service.” Silver eyes gleamed dangerously, but behind the fury lurked the sorrow.

Malachi didn’t answer; he grabbed the celestial by the throat and threw Laz onto the bed. With a savage snarl, he pounced on his prey, his fangs sinking into heated flesh. He didn’t know what he bit, but he only managed a mouthful of crimson nectar before his back met the harsh concrete of the wall behind the headboard. His skull bounced jarringly off the rock. Blood pumping, he shook his head. Crimson eyes tracked Laziel. Anticipating the dash for the bathroom, Malachi lunged, catching the angel once again by the throat. They tumbled to the floor fighting for the upper hand.

A hard cock brushed Malachi’s cheek, the musky scent of Laziel’s arousal broke through for just a nanosecond. His vision cleared and the bulbous head of Laziel’s cock bobbed before him. He inhaled it. His jaw unhinged to allow the entire length inside. The thick head clogged his throat and reaching the broad base, Lachi sank his fangs into the angel’s sensitive scrotum. Hands that had been pushing him away, stroked over his ass and down his thighs before rising to lock around his cock.