Crimson Storm

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Crimson Storm Page 10

by V L Moon


  “You fucking leech. I didn’t offer you a damned thing. Take your filthy hands off of me, now,” she seethed low not wanting to alert the nearby club goers to the altercation.

  The vampire’s face screwed up into an ugly mask. He snatched her back, his strength surpassing her own. “Should have known you were no different; a cock teasing bitch in heat,” he spat eyes glowing red. “I will dri…” his words trailed off in a yelp of pain as Damian’s fist introduced itself to his nose. In a fluid motion, he placed himself between Alexa and the now bleeding vampire.

  “The female isn’t interested, Fangs. It’s time you leave.” Damian’s menace laden voice chilled Alexa. She’d never heard that tone from him before. The vampire lunged, making Alexa gasp, but he didn’t reach Damian. Jacob’s massive arms clamped around the vampire and lifted him clear off of his feet.

  “Take him outside, Jake; he needs to learn some manners.” Alexa grabbed Damian’s arm, but he shook her off. “Man the bar, Lex; Delia’s there.” Alexa blinked in astonishment as he disappeared into the crowd.

  The moon was definitely fucking with everyone. With a sigh, she pushed through the last ring of dancers and strode around the bar. At the far end, Delia lounged against the wall where the curve of the bar met the building. Candy apple red lips tilted up in a welcoming smile as she straightened. Alexa ignored the patrons and bee lined for the female. The pent up arousal boiling just beneath her skin had her taking the female’s mouth with force.

  Alexa’s hands snaked into Delia’s perfectly coiffed hair, mussing it when she pulled the female toward her. Tongue plunging inside a willing mouth, she pressed herself against the female straining against her. Breathing heavily, she broke the kiss and ran a thumb down Delia’s flushed cheek. Glazed eyes blinked then met hers.

  “Wait in my dressing room. Damian shouldn’t be long.” Turning to the bar, Alexa met Khad’s amused eyes. “Order?”

  “Two Coronas, Buttery Nipple shot, two Coors Light, and a pitcher of Fuck Me Blue for the lady in the corner,” he teased, flicking his eyes to Delia. Alexa reached over the bar and smacked his shoulder.

  “She doesn’t need the drink, I’ll be takin’ care of that,” she shot back while filling the orders. Delia slipped past behind her. Her palm slid over Alexa’s leather clad ass before she sashayed from behind the bar and through the club. Khad whistled.

  “That is one hawt bitch, Lexi. Wanna share?” He held up his hands in mock surrender when Alexa glared at him. It wasn’t that she minded sharing Delia, their relationship was not exclusive. A fact she made very plain to Delia when they started seeing each other a year before.

  Alexa was waiting for her mate. Her soul mate, or rather her wolf’s mate. Unlike the more modern wolves in the city, Alexa firmly believed that each wolf had one true mate. Delia wasn’t that wolf and she knew it. Her features softened into a good natured smile.

  “Let me take the edge off, sexy, and then you can grab Shaver and join us if you like.”

  A fiery blush to rival Shaver’s earlier one colored Khad’s face. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. Laughing, Alexa reached over the bar and snapped his mouth closed. “What’s the matter, Khad? Cat gotcha tongue?”

  Before he could stammer a response, Damian returned his face dark and knuckles bleeding. Alexa’s eyes widened. He rarely involved himself with the fights or the ejections from the club. He preferred to leave them to Jacob. He brushed past, her his body language clearly screaming “don’t ask.” Deciding to let it go, Alexa quickly exited the bar area and sprinted as fast as her stilettos would let her for her dressing room.

  ~*~*~*~

  Damian stood behind the bar and watched Alexa stalk across the dance floor. Knowing who she was with and what she would be doing made his wolf snarl in protest. Much the same as he had when Delia appeared and propped her pert ass up alongside the bar to wait for Alexa. Damian didn’t like the other female and Alexa knew it. In deference to their friendship, she tried to keep him and Delia separated.

  It seemed like only yesterday he’d forged his friendship with Lexi. There wasn’t anything they didn't know about each other. Their moods, their likes and dislikes, when to steer clear and best of all, when the need to change rode them so hard it hurt to breathe.

  Damian watched Alexa intently, never losing sight of her in the crowd. Her rolling hips called to him, making his inner beast whine. Damian dreamed of drowning in the cascade of her flame red hair. She was beautiful, strong and more of an alpha than the pitiful excuse holding court on their home island.

  Damian cursed and dropped his gaze to the bar when she disappeared backstage. He couldn't afford to have feelings for Alexa. God knew he fought them, but being so close to her every day, sleeping together every night even with Khad and Shaver with them. It was too much; she was so close. Too close.

  If she found out, Alexa would distance herself from him and the two younger males. She made it clear she preferred the feminine form. Submitting to a male, any male, wasn’t going to happen for her. And boy, that just cut him up good and raw inside especially since she never seemed to settle. She had yet to find that elusive true love she believed was out there.

  “Fuck, why couldn't it be me?” Maybe, that's why he waited, hoped that with time she might change her mind. Who was he kidding? He knew Alexa better than anyone. Her decisions were rock solid.

  “Hey man, your knuckles are bleeding.” Damian’s lips tilted in the semblance of a smile. Khad flattened his palms against the bar and bounded agilely over the shiny expanse. He landed beside Damian and leaned his elbows on the surface. The blonde wolf sniffed and frowned. Damian knew he’d caught the acrid stench of his scent. Khadlyn growled and met Damian’s gaze. His eyes reflected the same tempered flame as Damian's own, except for Khad's flamed the brilliant bronze of his wolf.

  “As soon as this shift’s up, we’re out of here. I think we could both do with shedding a shit load of skin and running until dawn. What do ya say?”

  Damian loved his wolf. The feel of their human sheath melting away to free the inner beast, the rippling muscle and fur, it was to Damian the most exhilarating of pleasures. He lived for the change. Nothing drove him like the power of being in his wolf form. If it wasn't for Alexa, Shaver and their worries over Khadlyn, Damian would happily spend all of his time as wolf.

  The need to change constantly crouched just beneath his skin. The living, breathing, rippling mass of his amazing black wolf murmured to him every second of every day. God, he craved the power that flowed through his body when he ran, as his huge paws pounded into the ground and his heart soared. It always felt as if nothing could ever touch him or the friends he'd vowed to protect. He was pack and to Damian that was the most important thing in his life. The feeling of belonging, of having not just a home but a place where he became one with the world and, at the end of a long run or hunt, a sanctuary where he fell into a welcoming mass of fur. There the pack’s power and warmth fed both the human and the wolf.

  Damian knew before Khad spoke what the answer would be. The kid smiled, tossed back whatever cocktail he’d been mixing to numb the pain and tipped Damian a wink.

  “Dude, if I'm still vertical by the time we shut down, then hell yeah, I'll be running till dawn. Anything would be better than this fucking shit.” Damian didn’t need to ask Khad what was wrong. The male’s eyes were locked on Shaver who stood stage side with his arms crossed looking as lost as the both of them.

  “Well shit. We make a fucking miserable bunch of dogs.” Whistling hard, Damian caught Shaver’s attention. With an incline of his head, he motioned Shaver to join them. Damian couldn't be sure over the beat of the music, but he could have sworn he heard Khadlyn whine as Shaver strode toward them. The youngest of their quartet joined them at the bar to stand shoulder to shoulder with Khad.

  He did his damnedest to give the impression nothing was wrong. But, it was there. One look in either of their eyes and Damian could see and feel their distress. They both needed
to let down their guard and speak up. Damian didn’t know why they didn’t.

  Give them time, Dame…give them time. Alexa's wise words drifted through his mind. “Khad and I are heading out for a run after shop close. You in?”

  “You bet. Lexi going?”

  “No.” The sharp response had the two wolves averting their gazes. None of them liked Delia, but they had been very careful to keep their animosity to themselves. Alexa would tire of the female in time and everything would return to normal.

  “Heard ya had a piece of the fanger,” Khad said and grinned. “Denali’s truce is off to a roaring start in Canada, eh.”

  “He touched Alexa. Truce or not, that’s not allowed.”

  “Speaking of the truce, you guys hear about the attack on one of the Southern packs? Some of the regulars were saying the Nephilim came after a wolf pack. Rumor is Denali actually showed up to fight alongside the wolves.” While he talked, Shaver filled a tray with drinks.

  “He’s a warrior king. Guess he’s letting the world know he won’t put up with bullshit.” A hint of awe colored Khad’s words.

  “I’m going to take these drinks to the girls backstage. I’ll see you two later.” Shaver escaped back around the bar and merged with the crowd.

  Khad shoved away from the bar. “You need some help?”

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “Time for some action then; see ya at dawn.”

  Left alone, Damian concentrated on orders. He knew that if he opened the link he could feel what Alexa was doing in the privacy of her dressing room. But, he wasn’t a masochist and he damn sure wasn’t into torture. It was second nature to erect the shields in his mind that separated him from the others. He lost himself behind the bar until the clock struck four.

  After they ushered out the last of the night’s revelers, they worked quickly and efficiently to close up the club. The cleaning crew would hit the floors and tables the next morning, but he and the boys were responsible for restocking and carrying the empties to the kitchen for cleaning. When the last bag of garbage was tossed, Damian rechecked the doors and met the other two wolves at the back door.

  Damian’s fingers lingered on the last light switch. He turned to look over his shoulder at the last pool of light. The silver pole glittered at him. A visual of damp satin panties raided his mind. With a huff, Damian shut off the glow and headed outside into the dawn. A surprisingly sober Khad crowded his left side and a lost and lonely looking Shaver stood to his right. Throwing an arm around both his boys, Damian pulled them in to the heat of his body and rubbed the line of his jaw over the tops of their heads.

  “Let’s hunt.”

  ~*~*~*~

  Chapter Fifteen

  ~*~*~*~

  Croatia

  Possessive fingers stroked across his pecs, and then roamed lower to caress his abs. Two heartbeats later, they closed around his flaccid cock. The other hand slid over his hip to cup his sac. Hot breath fanned over his throat. A whine of arousal broke the silence of the room. At his back, the vampire moved in closer. A thick cock pressed into the cleft of his ass.

  “You will respond to me.”

  Not in this or any other lifetime. Vischeral ground his molars together and remained silent. Denial screamed in his mind, but didn’t pass his lips. Imprisoned by silver chains, he stood spread eagled and naked in the middle of Darklon’s bedchamber. He defied his Sire the only way he was able; by denying him any response, verbal or physical. He hung limp in the chains while the bastard played with his body.

  He hated the affection. He much preferred the whip biting into his back and thighs, or the nipple clamps and riding crop against his chest. On those days, he could focus on Copi and that last beautiful night together before he was snatched from his lover’s arms. Pain ripped through Vischeral’s chest. Not because of the sadistic monster at his back, Copi’s beautiful face filled his mind. Creator’s balls, he had fucked up so badly with Dane.

  “So defiant,” Darklon purred. Vischeral banished the image of Copi as Darklon circled around so they stood face to face. Vischeral met his gaze with the very defiance Darklon praised. Adoration tinged with madness stared back at him.

  The hands on his body continued their stroking and petting. Garbled words of endearment whispered against his skin. Vischeral retreated into his mind, into the open case files he’d left behind in Alaska. While his Sire marked him with mouth, teeth and hands; Vischeral sifted through murders, assaults, grisly scene photos and witness statements. Despite Darklon’s talented efforts, he refused to succumb to the Elder’s lascivious demands. His body; hell his everything, belonged to Copi.

  “You belong to me.” Anger spiked Darklon’s tone.

  Fear tensed his muscles. Vischeral’s dark eyes flicked from their perusal of the far wall to study Darklon’s face. Had he slipped? Had he dropped his shields? Had Copi’s name slipped through his barriers? He shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet. His fingers locked around the chains even though the silver burned his palms. He would never allow the monster in front of him to get his hands on Copi. His beautiful Copi. The pain in his chest intensified. Vischeral growled a challenge.

  Unholy fury speared out of Darklon’s gaze. His failure to illicit a response had cooled his ardor, and Vischeral’s defiance tipped his mind over the edge. The lust for blood and domination took the fore. Sharp talons dug into Vischeral’s ribs, piercing the skin down to the bone. Darklon continued his ministrations. The razor like nails sliced Vischeral’s skin into ribbons. Blood flowed freely over his naked hips and thighs.

  “I will have you,” the Elder hissed. “I have friends now who can breach your barriers. Demons do so enjoy breaking a soul.” Darklon retracted his talons and ran bloody fingers down Vischeral’s cheek. He leaned in so close his fetid breath washed over Vischeral’s compressed lips. “You can forget that little pup you were frolicking with in Alaska. He’ll never find you here. Not even Denali can reach you here.”

  Dry cracked lips pressed against his mouth. “Rest while you can, my precious. I will be back and we will finish this.” Rough fingers jerked his still limp cock before the Elder backed away. His eyes raked over Vischeral’s savaged body.

  “I’ve waited a long time for you, Vischeral Bourne. I can be patient only so much longer.” Darklon lifted his blood covered fingers and rubbed them across his mouth. “I will taste all of you again. And, it will be soon.”

  Vischeral sagged in his bonds when the door closed behind the Elder. Darklon had made the same threat regarding the demons every time he failed to gain a reaction from him. Vischeral suspected pride kept him from following through. How could he explain what he needed and why without losing face in front of the demons? As a vampire Elder, he should have been able to coerce anyone to do his bidding. Darklon craved power, the throne of the vampire race. He couldn’t afford to admit any weakness to anyone.

  When his blood told him Darklon was gone from the premises, Vischeral’s strength gave out. His chin dropped to his chest. His muscles unknotted and his eyes closed. Immediately, his mind filled with a vision of his Copi on their last night together.

  His male had been crouched between Vischeral’s thighs, amber eyes shining with love and lust. Broad shoulders were outlined in the light as Copi bent his head to take Vischeral into his eager mouth. Vischeral groaned as the remembered sensations swept over him. The orgasm had been intense and had delivered him a peace he’d never experienced. Vischeral strove for that peace again as he remembered Copi’s feeding after his orgasm. Strong hands on his thighs while Copi’s breath fanned his softening sex, and then fire in his veins when Copi’s fangs punctured the thick vein that carried blood to his cock. Hands slipping around to cup his ass and draw him closer to Copi’s mouth as he drank.

  Vischeral took a cleansing breath as his memories washed away the stain and stigma of Darklon’s hated attentions. He mourned the loss of his lover and the life they could have shared. The memories ripped holes in his soul, but his capt
ivity meant Copi remained free. He could survive anything Darklon did to him and would suffer the rest of eternity if it meant Copi was protected from Darklon’s depravity.

  The only thing keeping the bonded beast sane was his trust that Laziel would keep his promise and find Copi. Their relationship was tenuous and always had been due solely to his close friendship with the vampire king. Yet, the angel had aided Mal in Vischeral’s escape and had kept his secret. Unable to get to Malachi, he’d asked his age old enemy to protect what he held most dear. Alongside the hostility and disdain pouring from the enraged angel, Vischeral had sensed sincerity in Laziel’s agreement. It was all he had to hold on to in the luxurious prison where his Sire held him.

  Except, Laziel would never go anywhere with Malachi injured. Another grievance to lay at Vischeral’s feet. The demon attack had been swift and brutal. Malachi had been scorched before anyone could react. Laziel had reined in the fire demon and dispatched it back to Hell, but Darklon’s vengeance had tasted Malachi’s blood. Guilt weighed heavy on Vischeral’s shoulders. He had no way to find out if Malachi had survived. Which was bullshit.

  The king had survived. Darklon lived only because Malachi did. Given his reputation in the preternatural community, Laziel would have wiped Darklon’s existence from the face of the Earth if Malachi had died. Still, his best friend suffered because Malachi had tried to protect him. Copi’s life hung in the balance because he’d been too weak to resist the male. Protecting Copi should have been his first priority. They should’ve left Anchorage as soon as Copi opened his eyes. He’d failed both Malachi and Copi in one night. He’d allowed himself to be found and taken, leaving them both open to Darklon’s madness.

  Please, Laziel.

  Stillness touched his thoughts. A well-known and insufferable smirk chased the shadows away. The peace he’d sought in his memories washed over him, giving him strength and fortifying his hope. Laziel’s warmth brushed over his exposed skin.

 

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