by V L Moon
Crimson Storm
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy-One
Chapter Seventy-Two
Chapter Seventy-Three
Chapter Seventy-Four
Crimson Storm
V.L. Moon & J.T. Cheyanne
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GENRE: Erotic Paranormal
WORD COUNT: 155,264
As their allies grow and their circle of friends discovers true love, their enemies advance.
Shadows watch, waiting in the distance as an age old power threatens to reveal the secrets of a past steeped in sorrow.
War is upon them and with its advance comes a force of unity bound by love and sealed by blood.
Together, Malachi and Laziel fight to protect those they hold close.
When Rome trembles and the bowels of Hell spew forth its spawn, the wolves and the rogue Nephilim join forces with Malachi Denali and his vampires to fight against evil and tip the scales in favor of the just.
Fractions divide, lives lay in ruin. Is the call of the wild their only hope of survival?
Or will Rome finally fall under the weight of an angel’s untold grief?
Read on to assuage your thirst as the Crimson Nights Saga continues.
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Crimson Storm
V.L. Moon & J.T. Cheyanne
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Copyright © Laz & Lachi Publications, 2017
First Edition June, 2017
Published by: Laz & Lachi Publications, L.L.C.
ISBN: 978-0-9899725-6-7
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, Laz & Lachi Publications, L.L.C., [email protected].
No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without permission from Laz & Lachi Publications, L.L.C.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights and livelihood is appreciated.
Cover design by Tracey Weston
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WARNING
This book contains material that may be offensive to some: graphic language, violence, homosexual relations, and adult situations.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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DEDICATION
This is for all of our readers, especially the ones who have waited so patiently for this book.
Thank you.
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Chapter One
~*~*~
Rome, Italy
Silence coupled with an array of mocking faces danced through the peripheral layers of Laziel’s subconscious. Each jeering face speared through his heart while his memories delivered a blow by blow account of the abuse suffered at Darklon’s hands. The multitude of taunting glares swam in and out of focus. Each one bore the same knowing smile and the same chiselled features of the male trapped beneath Laziel’s boot.
He was the one male, the only being on the Creator’s Earth to ever a pose a real and prominent threat to what Laziel held most sacred. Lachi’s heart. Jealousy and fear overruled common sense. Everything he’d suffered at Darklon's evil hands in order to protect Lachi choked the air from his lungs. The mix of emotions left him feeling mangled and raw inside.
Laziel wasn’t sure if the tumultuous emotions sprang from being held so long in his female form, or from a very real part of his true self he'd long refused to explore. His captivity paled into insignificance compared with the pain of having to look into Vischeral’s all too familiar glare. The double edged sword of destiny rode shotgun to the pain of having the motherfucker thrust back into his life.
The arrogant bastard had not witnessed Laz’s degradation and suffering; however, given the volume of pictures of the male in the room where he’d been held, Laziel couldn’t help but feel the vampire pinned beneath his shitkicker had witnessed every second of Darklon’s violence. The deadly black stare that had followed and watched him from every corner of the squalid room where Darklon had held him watched him now in much the same way, full of hateful knowing scorn.
Why had he protected the fucker for so long? It was ludicrous. And yet, despite all of the bitterness and heartache he’d caused, Laziel would do it again, over and over if it preserved the righteous soul of his beloved’s dearest friend. Even if Bourne's mere presence in the same room as Lachi soured his stomach and left a bitter taste clinging to his tongue. Despite the personal torment residing in his heart, Laziel trained his sights on the pathetic form of the Elder vampire who’d attempted to break him and seethed.
The victorious look on Darklon’s face magnified the evil glin
t dancing in his eyes as he eagerly rubbed his hands together. He was the ugly caricature of a greedy child. Madness leaked in around the edges of his gaze. Darklon’s lips moved, but Laziel couldn’t hear the schizophrenic ramblings pouring from the vampire’s mouth. Instead, the heavy hum of static filled his head and spread through his veins fuelled by a rush of fury.
His wings and hair bristled with celestial power. It sparked across the floor in streaks of blazing blue light. The thunderbolt of energy slammed into Darklon sending the elder crashing back against the carved oak doors. Dazed, the bastard fell to his knees, eyes blank, mouth agape, but not dead, at least not yet.
Beneath his foot, Vischeral groaned and raised a shaky hand toward Laziel's leather clad calf. For the briefest moment, Laziel dropped his gaze to meet the look of profound loss in Vischeral’s eyes. The pain in that gaze held him captive, stealing a beat of his heart and stilling the breath in Laziel’s lungs.
Where he’d once recognised contempt and scorn, he found worry and the startling appearance of terror. Vischeral’s emotions bled through the mental walls he'd always maintained. They were way off the charts. The brooding arrogance Laziel always loathed had been drowned out by an emotional tsunami of insurmountable pain and fear. It poured from Bourne and washed over Laziel bringing with it a volley of mental images, faces and names.
Laziel crouched down. His wings arched back to encompass Lachi and Destahny. The impenetrable wall of feathers and bone shielded and protected those he loved. If any dared breech the barrier, they would find themselves slashed to ribbons. Around him on either side of the chamber, vampires stood back their faces wary and their fear palpable. They watched him silently, unsure of what to do.
Laziel didn’t care. At that precise moment in time, he held every one of them in complete disregard. He half hoped they would make a move so his fury could be unleashed. They didn’t deserve the gift of Lachi’s reign or the time he spent ensuring the progression of their race. They were miscreants, timid useless sycophants too used to being spoon fed to learn how to evolve. For a race that held the ability to wield immense power, they were weak. Not for their lack of knowledge, but because of it. They refused to learn new ways or grasp new ideas.
Under the old laws, they’d become lazy. Their unwillingness to change made them stagnate. Further, they were ignorant to the fact the Nephilim queen and her ever-growing army were getting stronger. The vampires’ once vast numbers had slowly started to decline. Unless they embraced Lachi’s regime and abided by the new laws he was fighting to instill, they would fade into the realm of legend and myth, becoming nothing more than the romanticised characters found in the pages of some long forgotten book.
Hidden by a curtain of hair, Laziel placed a hand against Vischeral’s harsh features. The male’s eyes widened momentarily and then snapped shut to hide the sudden surge of emotion. Crimson tears coated his thick lashes.
In the past, such a display of emotion would have shocked him. However, the underlying effects of being in his female form for so long left Laziel’s senses heightened. His male persona was more aware of the emotional state of those who surrounded him.
In the council chamber alone, fear and loathing, love and affection along with pride, confusion, want and need, all battered against the wall of his mind seeking entry, most seeking assurance and safety from Laziel and their King. They temporarily diverted his thoughts until the sound of Vischeral’s plea broke Laziel’s train of thought.
“He’s alone. He won’t know how to feed. The wolf’s too strong. Angel, please. Find him, find Copi for me.” The utter grief in Vischeral’s words and the openness of his mind was a phenomenally rare occurrence. Laziel took full advantage. Keeping their faces shielded from those who surrounded them, Laziel pulled on the cords of power and life linking his celestial soul to Lachi while shielding the threads of Destahny’s life that burned so brightly around their own.
Lachi’s mind surged through their link like a battering ram of rage. Laziel trembled under the force of Lachi’s enquiring mind as it surged through their bond to connect with Bourne. As the volcanic eruption of Lachi’s mind calmed and the tendrils of enquiry sifted through Bourne’s memories, Laziel attempted to close himself off from what Bourne so openly shared with the vampire king and lifelong friend. The sense of intrusion was quickly diminished as Lachi’s mind caressed his own. The intimate touch broke down the last vestiges of Laziel’s insecurities concerning Vischeral Bourne.
As Lachi’s mind slipped from Bourne’s, Laziel sensed the shutters of the vampire’s mind begin to close. Vischeral took a long shuddering breath and gripped Laziel hard. His fingers dug in, finding a home in the flesh of Laziel’s upper arm. “Do what you need to do, angel, just keep Copi safe and out of Darklon’s reach.”
“Don’t go getting sweet on me, DD. We’ll find him. Keep your mind tight and don’t go dropping the soap.” Laziel winked and tapped a finger to Vischeral’s temple. The moody motherfucker possessed a mind stronger than a steel trap, but if Darklon found out just how deeply Vischeral cared for the male, he would have ammunition to use against Vischeral. Vischeral had lost his heart to the wolf-vampire hybrid while Copi had still been human. A wry smirk tilted the corners of Laziel’s lips. Vischeral arched a brow.
“You want to share what just crossed your mind?” Bourne ground out between clenched teeth.
“All in good time, DD. Just do as I said and keep that mind of yours closed good and tight. Don’t let him in or believe his shit. Now, hold on tight. The games are about to begin, old friend. Are you with us?”
A nod was all Laziel needed. The wall of Vischeral’s mind snapped down hard and tight leaving no accessible threshold for Darklon to gain entry. Laziel rose to his feet. His wings stretched up and over his head, leaving Vischeral exposed to the whole court. A sudden gasp sounded behind him.
“Who is he?” Roman’s strangled question signified the beginning of a brand new circle of events yet to unfold. Roman took a step toward them, and then another. Bourne’s eyes rose up to meet the young Elder’s disbelieving gaze as a shrill scream broke through the court. The games had begun.
“Sorry, DD,” Laziel whispered. He flicked his boot and sent Vischeral careening down the aisle and crashing into Darklon. “Take your half-breed and be gone. He has no place in Malachi’s court.” Darklon scrambled to his knees; his hands tentatively caressed Bourne like a lover as he glared at Laziel.
“You’ll pay for taking him from me. You and that imposter king.” Darklon’s threats hit deaf ears as Destahny’s cry filled the room and froze Darklon in his place. Eyes wide, the Elder waited as Laziel turned giving Darklon his back. Slowly, he kneeled before the beautiful form of the enraged vampire king.
~*~*~*~
There comes a time in everyone's life when everything they want is within reach. The problem came in the choosing of what they wanted most. For Malachi, the decision came easily, without the slightest flicker of hesitation. With precise care, he turned to the Fallen at his back and offered him the precious bundle cradled against his chest.
“Take her to our chambers," he instructed Arial. "And, take Saul and Kimberly with you. No one enters until Laziel and I are there.” Despite the rage simmering just beneath his skin, he managed to keep his voice level so he didn't frighten the sleeping infant. Tenderly, he drew a thumb across a downy cheek. Arial nodded once and disappeared through the king's private entrance to the Council chambers. Malachi watched the four of them depart before turning back to the male kneeling at his feet.
Ignoring the tension in the tightly coiled room, he dropped to one knee before the angel. He easily read the pain radiating from his male, but it was the underlying essence of insecurity that Malachi hadn't been expecting that took precedence over anyone else in the room. Laziel's troubled eyes rose to collide with his narrowed gaze.
“You do not ever kneel before me, angel mine. You stand at my side where you belong.” So saying, Malachi rose to his full height and pulled
Laziel up with him. Uncaring of their audience or maybe because of the weight of every eye in the room, Malachi closed the distance between them and captured Laziel's lips. Gasps ricocheted throughout the room. The tension thickened.
The kiss was possessive; a claiming before the race, but it was also tender. Bourne's reappearance had thrown the usually unflappable angel. Malachi gave him back his foundation in much the same way Laziel had always done for him. Touch, their connection, their bond, something no one would or could ever break.
“What is the meaning of this…this…debacle?” Darklon demanded, surging to his feet and momentarily forgetting Bourne who lay sprawled at his feet.
Malachi pulled back allowing everything he felt for the angel to shine in his crimson gaze. A shudder worked through Laziel, and then, the cocky grin Malachi loved flashed briefly before Laziel moved to take his place at Malachi's right side. Malachi's attention zeroed in on Darklon. Hatred burned deep in his gut.
“Darklon DeSangue, for crimes against the Crown including treason, your life is forfeit. To me.” Malachi descended the few steps to the floor. Behind him, Laziel shifted but did not leave the dais. No doubt, the Seraphim warrior was ready to defend both him and the exit through which their daughter had disappeared. Roman and Tobias took his flank. The young Elder's emotions slammed into Malachi and he knew Roman recognized himself in Bourne. That confrontation would have to wait.