by V L Moon
“Lance?” Tobias asked. “How is Lance?” An ominous silence descended. Roman looked up in time to see Malachi circle around them. The wolves, intent on their own, had blocked the view of the fallen vampire and the very dead Nephilim. The vampire king shoved a hand through his hair. Black eyes lit to an unholy red fire.
~*~*~*~
“FUCKING. HELL!” Malachi roared into the night. He dropped to one knee next to his Guard. “I fucking told you not to fight,” he growled. Gentle hands probed the wounds. Experienced eyes studied the seeping blood. He dug for his phone and hit speed dial.
“Ms. Stroner, get the doc to my location A-fucking-SAP. The phone’s GPS is on.” He tossed the device into the grass beside him. All the fuck he wanted to do was get his ass back to Rome. He’d finally found Laziel and the baby and fucking duty ripped him away from them. If it were any other vampire, he would leave the male in Roman’s hands. But, Lance wasn’t your everyday born or turned vampire.
“Denali.” Jorn’s booming voice broke the tense silence. He knew before the wolf spoke. They were out there; standing in the tree line, hovering in the air around them, unseen silent watchers whose only concern was the male lying at Malachi’s feet. He glanced over his shoulder. The wolves still in their animal form stood with their ruffs bristling, their heads swinging in search of them. Malachi sensed them, felt their eyes boring into him.
It had been almost a hundred years since he’d been contacted by the Fae. Another hundred more wouldn’t have hurt his feelings. The Fae were mysterious and secretive. They wielded magic as easily as humans breathed or vampires ported. Powerful beings, they held little regard for any realm save their own. Slights were never forgotten, and grudges lasted lifetimes.
“It’s exactly what you think, Chamberlin,” Malachi said loud enough the others could hear. “Your pack can stand down. You won’t see them unless they allow it. If they were going to attack, they would have done so by now. And none of you would have survived. The last was left unspoken, but Jorn’s expression said the male already knew.
“Why the fuck are they here?” The Alpha barked.
“Because Lance is one of them, or he was one of them,” Malachi lowered his voice, speaking only to Jorn. “He’s a Seelie prince who was betrothed to be married. Only he fell in love with an Unseelie. He refused to follow his father’s demands that he marry. He sought out a vampire willing to risk the ire of the Seelie Court.” Malachi glanced toward the tree line. Briefly, he wondered if King Aelfric stood among the assembled. Jorn cursed.
“And you fucking sent him here in the middle of my pack?” Jorn’s anger radiated in waves. Despite the fury, he dropped a hand to smooth the hair away from Lance’s face.
“He was the best one for the job, and he’d been stuck in my enclave for a century.” At Jorn’s sharp look, Malachi shrugged one shoulder. “When he was turned, his father refused to acknowledge him. The Unseelie King forbid him entry into the dark court. They don’t trust vampires because we are immune to most of their magic. Lance was tainted to both sides. The female he loved was killed to appease Aelfric for the loss of his son. If he returns to his world, he will be killed just as she was. As vampire, he’s under my protection and has stayed within my enclave since his turning. I thought he would appreciate the outdoors, the chance to run in the untamed world. Deep down, his nature is wild, more so than your own.”
Jorn’s shoulders relaxed. His fingers continued to stroke the male. A wolf’s tactile nature was always more evident when they had a pack member injured. Somehow, Malachi knew it wasn’t Tobias’s injury that had Jorn agitated. The Alpha truly cared about Lance.
“He has a home with us now. He cannot be made wolf, but he will be made a part of our pack.” Malachi felt a collective inhale from their watchers, the Fae and the wolves.
“I second,” Tobias spoke up from where he reclined in Roman’s embrace. Howls of approval sang into the air.
“Don’t celebrate too soon, Chamberlin. His Fae nature and the vampire blood are failing him. If the doctor doesn’t arrive pretty soon, he could die. If he does, their complacency will evaporate. Rejected or not, he is still a Seelie Prince. They will seek their retribution for his death.”
“Nobody’s dying on my watch,” an enormous male with café au lait skin strode through the crowd. Malachi watched amazed as the wolves backed away tails tucked between their legs. Low growls throbbed, but none dared attack the newcomer. “Dr. DeRhys,” he introduced himself and squatted on his haunches. A black medical bag thumped on the ground giving credence to his claim. The stench of brimstone filled Malachi’s nostrils.
“You’re a…” Jorn sputtered.
“Demon,” DeRhys supplied. “Sex demon if you want to get technical. I’ll skip the demon classification it’s hard on the human tongue.” The entire time he talked, he stripped Lance exposing the multitude of wounds. “I’m guessing he was attacked with some kind of metal. The Fae are highly susceptible to the stuff. And, if it was silver, the vampire got a wallop, too.”
How the fuck he knew the male’s species without touching him, Malachi had no clue, but he turned and shouted. “Celix!” A short distance away, the blonde male rose from a crouched position next to an injured Nephilim. His wings spread. Two downbeats and he landed at Malachi’s side. The demon doctor sucked in a breath and a wave of lust punched into the air.
“Not the time, demon,” Malachi said. DeRhys shot him a go to Hell look and returned his attention to the patient. Malachi pinned Celix with his stare. Misery rode the Nephilim hard. “What type of metal do our weapons contain?” Malachi snapped.
“Steel, nickel or iron and blades are coated in silver.” The Nephilim glanced down at Lance and swayed. “The one that injured him, he’s the one I warned you about. The Queen added him to the squadron while I was with you. The others were terrified of him.”
“He was attacking them even as they fought against us,” Tobias spit. “He ripped their wings apart and killed at least one of them. I was trying to get to him when he went after Lance.”
“Double whammy,” the doctor nodded and pulled out two instruments, one Malachi had never seen before and a stethoscope.
“He’s vampire,” Malachi started.
“You a doctor?” DeRhys shot at him. Malachi shook his head. “I won’t tell you how to be a king; you don’t tell me how to be a doctor. We agreed?”
“Figures you’d have a bedside manner from Hell,” Malachi sneered. The big male chuckled and plugged the steth into his ears. He did the press and listen routine before pulling the things free and tossing them into the black bag.
“How about that, he has a heartbeat. Could it be his Fae side?” The other instrument was thrust into a wound. The thin needle like appendage rose to meet a rounded glass bulb held in place by what appeared to be woven hair. Malachi hazarded a guess the needle was actually bone of some kind. As they all watched, black wisps of smoke appeared and drifted inside the sphere. DeRhys dipped a finger into the wound and licked the smear of crimson from the pad. “Yup, poison in his blood. He needs a transfusion, untainted blood to flush out the crud.”
“Can we move him back to the compound?” Chamberlin asked. “Those of us who aren’t injured can feed him.”
“He definitely needs to be moved,” DeRhys stated and dipped another finger into the wound. Again, he did the lick routine. A restless shuffling from the trees reached their ears. The eerie scent of the Fae grew stronger. DeRhys’s head lifted. “The audience you guys have is fucked up, you know that right? Seelie and Unseelie in one place is a definite cause for worry.”
“He’s the Seelie Prince, Lance Drake, firstborn son of King Aelfric.” Malachi supplied.
“Well then, you guys have another little problem. The wolf blood won’t work. Regular vampire blood won’t work. He’s going to need pure blood, untainted and royal. Pure and untainted because his body would reject anything else given the amount of poison. Royal, well I think you all know just how anal the Fae can be, especially
the Seelie.”
The earth beneath their feet trembled. “Looks like good King Aelric is here.” DeRhys surged to his full impressive height. Malachi rose on one side and Chamberlin gained his feet. The demon towered over them both. “Aelric, you got two choices. Go back to your little court and wait for an update, or piss me the fuck off and Rhys will come for a play date in your little court.”
“I thought you were DeRhys,” Jorn muttered.
“Bastian DeRhys,” the demon said and extended a hand. “Bastian in this form. My demon prefers Rhys. He has a reputation for not playing nice with others.”
Malachi listened to their exchange and tucked the information away for later reflection His mind churned, stuck on the demon doctor’s words. Untainted, pure, royal blood. Malachi stepped forward. His gaze swept the horizon. “You hear that Aelric. He needs royal blood. Are you going to feed him and give him the chance to live? Or, are you going to do what you did last time and turn your back on your son? Is your precious court more important than your family, your blood?”
“Either man the fuck up, you Fairy bastard or crawl back into the mounds that spawned your ugly asses,” DeRhys shouted. Malachi laid a restraining hand on the demon’s arm. It was like touching the sun. Fire erupted beneath his palm and spread quickly. His cock went insta-hard. With an oath, Malachi snatched his hand away to the accompaniment of DeRhys’ muffled laughter.
“You, vampire king, would be more than a match for my demon,” the doctor taunted. Malachi glared and moved another step away. “Ahhh, that’s right. You prefer the vanilla purity of angel’s flesh.” The words were harsh, guttural, meant to be a dig. But, in the depths of those ruby eyes, pain blossomed and was quickly snuffed. Malachi chose to ignore the remark and the glimpse into the demon’s psyche.
“Well Aelric, what’s it going to be?” His answer came in the sudden disappearance of their oppressive presence. Curses rang in his head, but he retained enough composure to bite them back. Unless he kidnapped the Queen of England or some other human monarch, he was the only one who could feed Lance and not put the male into further jeopardy.
The agreement between him and Aelric was tenuous at best. Malachi strode a thin line in keeping the vampire and Fae from an all-out battle that would cause ripples in the human and Fae realms. But feeding Lance? Revulsion curled in Malachi’s gut. He’d never fed anyone. Laz bit him on occasion, but never actively drank from him. The thought of feeding Lance left him cold and nauseated.
A throat cleared and Malachi looked up to see Celix before him. The Nephilim fighter stood head bowed with hands clasped behind his back. “I know this isn’t a good time, but I have a favor to ask of both of you.” Celix’s head rose. He met Malachi’s gaze and then turned to Jorn. “I know it’s presumptuous and I can understand if you refuse.” He swallowed and glanced to where the injured Nephilim were being treated by their brethren.
“I am formally requesting asylum for them at least until I can find somewhere for them to go. If they return, she will kill them for not succeeding in their mission. She will be enraged by the loss of Theircles.” His head swiveled back. “In this matter, I have no pride. They have nowhere else to go. I’m throwing myself upon the mercy of the Pack Alliance and the vampire race. Please help them.”
“What’s to stop her from coming in search of them? Won’t she find it strange that none of you returned?” Malachi questioned.
“If I granted them leave to stay, their presence puts my pack in danger,” Jorn added. “As much as I understand your concern, my obligation is to my family, my pack.”
Celix’s broad shoulder’s squared. His expression became impassive. “I will report back to the Queen. I’ll tell her everyone was lost, ripped apart by the more experienced wolves. She’ll believe it if I return with Theircles’ remains.” Another deep breath shuddered in and out. “And, if I’m injured.”
Malachi’s eyes narrowed. Vividly, he remembered reading Celix’s thoughts earlier and watching Celix’s last encounter with the Queen. “You plan to accept her punishment for losing an entire squadron of warriors?” Celix nodded; his gaze steady. Malachi’s respect for the young Nephilim rose. The Queen had promised severe retribution if he failed and he head. Dismally.
“If it means they are safe, the punishment will be worth it.” He turned to Jorn. “I don’t know when I would be able to make it back, or if I’ll even survive her temper. I know that I’m asking a lot of you. They can work; they will work to earn their keep.” He spun back to Malachi. “You can check their minds. You’ll see they don’t have any ulterior motives. Even if it’s just a cave in the woods and permission to hunt for food; give them a chance to live. If they return to her, it will be sending them back to their death.”
“If the vampire king validates your claims on their intentions, they can stay,” Jorn interrupted. “We have empty barracks set away from the homestead for visitors. They will have to double up in the rooms and I will expect them to find work in the human world. We can supply identification if they don’t have it already. I’ll expect rent once they have established themselves. They will have their own kitchen and can provide their own food. Free time will be spent training with my wolves so if another attack is made, we will be better prepared.”
Celix considered Jorn’s words before extending a hand. “You have my deepest appreciation.” If Jorn noticed the trembling in the male’s voice, he ignored it and Malachi did the same.
“Let’s get this done, we have injured that need attention,” Malachi snapped and strode toward the cluster of Nephilim. The surreal of the situation was not lost on him. Making nice with the enemy, touching Nephilim without killing them, demon doctors with attitude and a pregnant angel carrying his child. By far, it was the single most fucked up night of his life. And it wasn’t over yet.
A couple of hours before dawn, Malachi retreated into the shadows as everyone around him began the process of transporting the injured. DeRhys scooped Lance into his arms and set out after Jorn’s wolf form. The demon had visited every injured wolf and Nephilim while maintaining a watch on Lance. Roman wrapped an arm around Tobias who was completely healed due to the forced ingestion of vampire blood. Together, they headed in the direction of the compound.
The Nephilim took to the skies under their own wing power, or in the arms of their brothers, following Jorn to their new home. Malachi didn’t understand Jorn’s easy acceptance of the half-breeds into his fold, but it wasn’t his call to make. The remaining wolves paired up and followed their Alpha. Celix had left shortly after their talk with Theircles in his arms and gaping wounds in his thigh and right shoulder. The male had to have been in agony long before he reached the bitch Queen’s court.
Alone in the darkness, Malachi looked up at the thin sliver of the moon. Bitterness ate at him. He opened his mind searching for the bond to Laziel. It was there, a dim awareness in his mind.
“Laziel,” he sent. The angel’s awareness flickered. “Lance has been injured. They want me to feed him. He needs royal blood, untainted and pure. The Fae deserted him yet again. If I don’t feed him, the Seelie might attack. If I do….” A shudder ran down his spine.
“I can’t. I can’t do this, not to you. Not to us. Giving him my blood is asking too fucking much.” Malachi dropped his head to stare at the blood staining the ground. Everything in him rebelled. “What the fuck do I do now, angel?”
~*~*~*~
Chapter Thirty-Nine
~*~*~*~
Italy
Cradled against the broad expanse of Arial’s chest, Laziel gave in the overwhelming flow of emotions pouring through his female form. He hadn’t anticipated the tidal waves of tears. So many centuries, so much pain, and it was free. The damn had cracked, allowing an upsurge of bottled up emotion to explode from his chest until the pain of holding it back became too much. Every time Loz closed her eyes, Laziel was there hovering at the boundaries between his male and female form. Seeing Lachi so close and in the flesh, feeling his touc
h and hearing his name on the vampire’s lips had been too much.
Any strength Laziel had, any notion he’d harbored of being strong enough to withstand being away from Lachi vanished. He was broken and all that remained was raw, unadulterated need, a craving so dire that if left unfulfilled, it could threaten the very essence of Laziel’s life and that of their unborn child. In staying away from Lachi, he’d acted on impulse and been selfishly unaware of how Lachi would struggle. Even the simplest of emotions were an anomaly for Lachi unless it consisted of anger or pain. Then, Lachi shined.
Creator’s blood, he missed him; missed the arrogance of his breeding and the confident air of knowledge that surrounded him when he walked into a room. But, most of all, Laziel missed his touch, the strength of those hands that knew every inch of his flesh and the scent that belied Lachi’s inability to love.
Arial’s silent strength usually soothed him, but the slight tremor in the Fallen’s fingers as they stroked through the strands of Lorenza’s hair betrayed the obvious tension radiating off of the male in waves. Arial was upset, and his refusal to let go of Laziel’s female form meant the usually stoic male was struggling to hide it.
“You’re keeping something from me, I can feel it. What’s happened that would deflect your attention so badly that you couldn’t tell Lachi had followed you? Anyone else wouldn’t have sensed him, but you aren’t anybody, Arial.” Keeping Loz’s voice soft, Laziel hoped the Fallen would succumb to a little female persuasion. It didn’t work.
Taking great care, Arial maneuvered himself free of Loz and walked toward the small window where he visibly sagged against the sill. If Laziel didn’t know better, he’d have thought Arial tired. The sense of helplessness leaking from the powerful Fallen worried Laz. “There’s a weight on your shoulders, my old friend, that wasn’t there when you left. I’m here to share the load anytime you feel like talking. Just know that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”