Crimson Ties

by V L Moon

  Saul’s temper ramped up. “Our blood not good enough for you, Nephilim? You don’t want to taint yourself with our filth?” Saul knew he was being an ass to the King’s visitor, but what did he care. The male was Nephilim, an enemy. The grief and agony from so long ago speared through his chest.

  “Are you always so quick to judge, vampire?” The softly spoken question caught Saul completely off guard.

  “What?” he sputtered.

  “I refused the blood because there may be one injured far worse than myself. My wounds will heal with time. The blood could be better used on a patient in more urgent need of its sustenance, say someone in the South American enclave.” Again, their gazes collided. Clariel’s glittered with the knowledge of the carnage in Brazil. “I have sworn my allegiance to your King. Malachi has shown more compassion than any of my brethren, including our revered Queen. I assure you Guard; I do not give my oath lightly. I am fully aware of what will become of me if I betray the vampire King, and what I face from the Queen if I lose his protection.”

  “Denali does not know the meaning of compassion,” Saul scoffed, but he knew from his own experience that wasn’t true. He’d buried Saul’s dead, given him a home.

  “You are wrong, soldier. Malachi Denali is far more than what he allows the world to see.” Clariel shrugged one shoulder and slid down deeper into the bed. Saul thought he was drifting to sleep until the sing song voice broke the silence. “Your colleague has told me you are the Captain of his Guard, chosen by the revered and mighty Laziel. How is it that you tricked a Seraphim into believing your loyalty and dedication to the vampire king? It’s no easy task fooling the right hand of our Creator.”

  Saul’s blade cleared the harness and he pressed it against the Nephilim’s throat. “How. Dare. You.” He snarled. “You question my loyalty? My integrity? I have proven myself time and again to Laziel and to Malachi.”

  Clariel never flinched from the blade, nor did he break eye contact. “Then why do you question his actions in bringing me here?” Saul cursed and shoved away careful to keep the blade from marking the half-breed’s throat. He paced a few steps to the door and cast his gaze back over his shoulder. Anger simmered in his veins.

  “You’ve made your point, but I’ll be watching you. Any funny business and I’m taking you out.” The threat rolled across the room. Clariel gave him another one shoulder shrug before closing his eyes.

  Back out in the hall, Saul slid the knife back into its holster. His head dropped forward to hang from broad shoulders. Anger dimmed the senses, slowed reflexes. He had to pull his fucking shit together. Malachi needed him to be levelheaded, and the fucking Nephilim was right. Malachi’s word was law. He wanted the enemy bastard here so he stayed, but damned if Saul had to be as accepting of the arrangement. He’d keep cameras, eyes and Lance glued to the male.

  His long legged stride carried him across the enclave, back into familiar territory. There was one more person he needed to check on before he returned to monitoring the video cameras. Her image rose in his mind and his heart thumped hard in response. Kimberly Stroner, the king’s secretary, intrigued him.

  A mix of strength and vulnerability, she awakened emotions in him that had lain dormant since his wife died. The first stirrings of affection terrified him. He’d sworn to never again allow himself to be so vulnerable to another. He shied away from her despite the desperate yearning to know her better. He’d given up trying to control his body’s response to her. Her scent alone sent blood pounding into his cock. Although his duties and hers threw them together almost every day, his fascination remained just that, an infatuation with nothing to foster its growth.

  Liar.

  His subconscious taunted him. Hours were spent watching her on the video cameras. He knew her favorite food, what she was reading on any given day and how she drank her coffee. With a curse, he sped up, heading deep into the private quarters. He was going to make sure Denali hadn’t chewed her a new ass, and then lock himself in the Guard training facility.

  The smell of freshly poured plaster and sawdust tickled his nose. He glanced around him at the reconstruction. Given the preternatural speed of the carpenters, the most urgent cracks were covered. The dawning sun presented no threat; however, the familiar and aesthetically beautiful enclave was a patchwork of exposed beams and sheetrock until the next sunset. He made a mental note to check in with the Vatican’s security detail. Located above the vampire enclave, the building had to have suffered the brunt of Malachi’s explosive temper as well.

  At the head of the hall leading directly to Malachi’s chambers, a loud crash echoed against the stone walls. Instinct took over. He palmed his gun and slammed his back against the wall until furiously spoken words reached his ears.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” The lament grew in volume with each enunciation. Ms. Stroner’s customary perfectly modulated voice vibrated with anger. Something, a bed sheet maybe, sailed out into the hall followed quickly by a brightly colored pillow. The combined scents of sex, vampire and wolf hit his nose. Fury and jealousy flamed in his gut as the tirade inside continued.

  The night before, he’d watched from the shadows as they all stumbled in together after the ceremony. Hands and mouths landed anywhere and everywhere. Ms. Stroner had been trapped between them, her dress riding high on creamy white thighs. He’d fought his base instincts to rip her from their arms and carry her caveman style to his own quarters. The look on her face, the scent of her arousal clearly stated she’d been right where she wanted to be. He knew from the tapes that all three of them spent the night in her room, emerging only when Denali’s roar shook the enclave awake. Another pillow sailed into the hall, careened off the opposite wall and rolled to a stop at his boots.

  He bent and retrieved the square and brought it to his nose. His eyes closed as he inhaled the vibrant fragrance unique to her; his heart thudded in his chest. Ever since the night she’d been situated in Malachi’s court, Saul had been dumbstruck by her beauty. As he’d gotten to know her, the initial infatuation had deepened to respect and admiration. He’d nearly shouted with joy when it became clear Malachi had no intention of claiming the young female as his mate. His relief had been almost palpable. It still was despite the fact his warrior’s soul refused to act on his growing feelings.

  Ms. Stroner was young, on the cusp of her femininity. What would she want with an old soldier? He drew in another breath and images of her stretched out on his bed, naked and laughing, converged in his mind’s eye. Creator, how he wanted her.

  “Saul?”

  He gulped and dropped the pillow away from his face. “Kim, ah, Ms. Stroner. I didn’t hear you come out.” He eased closer to her while shoving his gun back in the holster. “Doing some winter cleaning?”

  A frown marred her stunning features. Misery clouded her dark chocolate eyes. “I made a mistake last night,” she blurted, and then bit her lower lip. Her head dropped, sending her glorious blond hair swinging forward to hide her face. A new scent tickled his nose. Tears? Almost hesitantly, he reached out and caught her under the chin. Gentle pressure brought her head up. The sight of her lashes spiked and wet clutched at his heart.

  “Come here, dorogaya.” Carefully, he tugged her into his embrace and settled her against his chest. The air in his lungs vanished when her slender arms wound around his waist. She burrowed into him. The nearly silent tears evolved into heartbreaking sobs. Every protective instinct he possessed roared to the surface.

  He shifted enough to slide an arm under her knees and easily lifted her into his arms. Three steps found them inside her chambers. He kicked the door shut behind them and crossed to one of two leather sofas. He held her until the sobs became hiccups and sniffles. Memories of doing the same for his wife floated in his memories.

  “Did they hurt you? Force you?” He growled, smoothing his palm soothingly up and down her back even as he wanted to rip and tear. She shook her head against his chest.

  “They were both wonderful.”
Not what he wanted to hear. “Could we not talk about them right now?”

  “Not a problem, tishina. We don’t have to talk at all.” He continued the up and down motion of his hand as the silence stretched. His own rage settled, soothed by the soft feel of her in his lap. Surprised, he realized he missed the gentleness a female brought into a male’s life.

  “Where is he?” She asked after a few minutes. Fear and something else shook in her voice. His arms tightened automatically around her. “The Nephilim, where is he?”

  Saul hesitated. “He’s not allowed visitors, Ms. Stroner. Malachi was clear on that.”

  “I don’t want to visit him,” she seethed. “I want to stay as far away from him as I can.” The hand resting against his chest fisted, clinging to his shirt. Tremors raced through her.

  “He’s not going to hurt you,” he started.

  “Don’t try to bullshit me, Saul. I’ve seen what his kind does to us. If Malachi’s keeping him here, I’m leaving. I’ll go with Roman or find another enclave. I’m not staying with the likes of him.” The bitterness in her voice spoke of a fierce and buried pain. One similar to the ache he kept buried and locked away. Saul wondered who she had lost, but didn’t ask. Pain was a private thing, and he sure as hell wasn’t ready to share his own.

  “You’re Malachi’s assistant. You aren’t going anywhere,” he finally said, forcing his voice to remain steady and sure. “Roman can’t protect you from his father the way Denali does.” The thought of her leaving, especially with the young De Sangue, soured his stomach.

  Her head snapped up. “He told you about that?” A blush crept from under her collar and stained her cheeks.

  “I’m the Captain of the Guard, dorogaya. I have to know who or what threatens the ones who live in this enclave. Darklon is on my radar anytime he’s in the building.” His jaw hardened. “I saw what he did to your face.” The hand not around her slim waist rose, and he brushed a thumb over her cheekbone. “I wanted to kill him then and there, but Denali has strict orders regarding who, when and where that bastard can be taken down.”

  Kimberly’s long lashes lifted and their gazes collided. Her eyes darkened even more, and her lips parted. “You would have killed him for striking me?” The tremulous question barely reached his ears.

  “For striking any female, but most especially for hitting you.” The words escaped before he thought to stop them. The blush on her cheeks deepened, and the scent of her heated blood awakened his need. Her soft body brushed against his hardness and fanned the flames of his buried desire. His head lowered.

  “Saul, no. I can’t.” She scrambled out of his lap and shoved to her feet. Her perfect breasts rose and fell in her agitation. Disgusted with himself and his lack of control, Saul gained his feet and scrubbed a hand through his short buzz cut.

  “Damn it,” he growled. “I’m sorry. I’ll get out of your way.” He strode for the door, berating himself the entire way. Grasping the door knob, he twisted it as she breathed his name. He didn’t stop, didn’t even glance back. He knew he couldn’t hide the effect she had on him, and he didn’t want her to see how badly he’d lost control. Fangs and cock throbbed with need and neither could be hidden if he faced her. She’d sought comfort, and he’d gone raging lust fiend.

  In the hall, he stumbled over the things she’d thrown out earlier. Bending, he scooped up the small square pillow that carried her scent. With a last savage oath, he ported straight to his own chambers. The pillow landed somewhere near his bed as he stripped. Cold water poured from the shower head. He stepped beneath it and gritted his teeth against the icy blast.

  Gods, he was such a fool. An old fool who knew better.

  ~*~*~*~

  With her back against the door and her heartbeat thundering inside her chest, Kimberly chastised herself for being so weak, especially when she’d spent a lifetime trying to forge an impenetrable wall around her reserve. Fat lot of good it’s done you, Kimberly girl. Slowly she slid down the door and sat on her ass. The sound of Saul’s footstep’s drifted away, leaving behind a deafening silence that gripped at her heart.

  She’d seen the flash of pain in Saul’s eyes and hated to be the cause of it. Saul was a revered guard; one of the angel’s elite and most trusted protectors. He deserved better than the pittance of affection she could offer. Yet, for a brief second as Saul held her within his welcoming embrace, she’d let herself forget; given herself a fleeting second of comfort and relief. In his arms, Kimberly felt safe and that in and of itself was one of the reasons she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, allow Saul into her life. So why couldn’t she stop smiling like she was a school girl with a crush?

  A sigh rose from Kimberly’s chest when she dragged her ass off the floor and got to her feet. Saul was too good for her. Even though she knew in her heart the statement wasn’t true, she also knew Saul would be better off without her. Eventually, he would move on. Her eyes drifted around the room and took stock of what she had in her life. It didn’t amount too much. But, she was safe and surrounded by people she cared about.

  After she’d cleaned her quarters and remade the bed, barely an hour had passed. She flitted through some fashion magazines, but even those failed to occupy or entertain her thoughts in the same way anymore. Something inside her had changed. Whereas before, she’d felt sure in herself and her abilities, she now doubted herself and refused to accept the reasoning behind it. She was lonely, and to top it all off, hunger gnawed at her insides, reminding her she needed to feed.

  Openly groaning when her fangs slid slowly from her gums, she plucked one of the plasma bags stored in the fridge. The nutrient rich plasma assuaged the worst of her hunger; it had to. However hard it was without a life mate to sustain her cravings for blood, Kimberly had to stay true to Malachi’s law and never feed from the vein of an unwilling human. There were those of their race that fought against his rules and scoffed at the King’s modern way of thinking. Kimberly truly believed in Malachi’s regime, and was more than happy to use the plasma to sustain her until Mr. Right rode in and swept her off her feet.

  Envy mixed with a bitter edge of sadness for those of her race already devoted to a life mate. But, as much as she envied the love and warmth of the mated couples within the vampire world, Kimberly also pitied them. Most of them had no clue of the devastation a loved one experienced upon losing a mate. They were happy to live in the here and now, ignorant of what loomed behind the next door or around the turn of a corner.

  For hundreds of years, she’d mourned the loss of her parents, but even that faded into insignificance when faced with the loss of a life mate. For the one left behind, starvation usually forced them into the sleep of death. Most wouldn’t take sustenance from another, or even attempt to live off of the plasma replica Malachi’s scientists produced. Even the few willing and devoted human donors, coveted by the enclaves they were either born into or hired by, couldn’t compare to the draw of a beloved’s distinctive taste. She’d witnessed first-hand the depths of such a sole destroying grief. She vowed to never put another through the pain she’d endured as a child as she stood and watched her own mother take the walk of death into the sun, leaving her alone and scared to fend for her self.

  Tears burned her eyes, and Kimberly allowed them to fall. She curled up on the sofa and openly wept, wishing she didn’t always have to be so God damned brave. Just for once she’d like to feel safe in another’s, maybe even…Saul’s, strong arms. The look in the big Russian’s eyes had been so full of sorrow. Kimberly wanted to hold him, comfort him in the same way he’d comforted her.

  Would he have allowed it? Dropped the cast iron resolve that had won him a place as head of Laziel’s revered guard? Kimberly doubted it; yet, she couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to be pressed against the mountain of muscle and brawn that made Saul so unique. Apart from the King, most Vampires were on the slender side. Yes, they were strong and undeniably cunning, but most lacked the bulky physique that Kimberly found so complimentary in Saul
. It fit beautifully with his alluring Russian accent that likely had the females of their species falling at his feet.

  Kimberly rolled her eyes and dashed the tears away. Pacing the small sitting room where hours earlier she’d been taken and shared by two beautiful males, she lamented her lack of feelings for them. She’d more than enjoyed the experience with them. But, there was something about the way Tobias looked at Roman that made her think the wolf hid his true feelings under a well-worn cape of bravado.

  Poor Roman. The new Elder probably had no clue what he was getting into with the wolf. She doubted Roman had ever even questioned his sexuality before Tobias turned up. She laughed thinking about the younger vampire being locked on board the king’s private jet with the overly amorous wolf. How would he handle it? Whatever happened, she wished them both well. With Roman free of Darklon’s enthrall, she’d taken a shine to the male and looked forward to seeing both of them together as friends.

  She didn’t regret their night of passion, hell, how could she? It had been fantastic sex. But, for some reason, her sexual exploits had upset Saul. She felt as though she’d somehow wronged the burly Russian guard, but couldn’t for the life of her figure out why. She would have known—sensed if the male had feelings toward her. Wouldn’t she? At a loss on figuring out the enigmatic and confusing workings of the male mind, Kimberly finally sat and powered up her laptop. She needed to let Roman and Tobias know that her mind was made up. There would be no more funny business between them. She needed to be a professional…if Malachi didn’t kick her ass out of the enclave for refusing to follow his orders first.

  ~*~*~*~

  Chapter Twelve

  ~*~*~*~

  As compelled as he felt to be at Malachi’s side during Laziel’s absence, Arial knew he’d be of more use following through on what he needed to do. Lachi was no fool; they both knew, without a shadow of a doubt; Darklon was behind Miss Lorenza’s abduction The Elders believed her to be the future Queen. Arial knew better. He’d witnessed first-hand the love shared between Laziel and the king, and nothing, or no one would convince him Malachi would ever take a female over his guardian angel.