by V L Moon
Except, Arial had been different. Rhys hadn’t used his vulgar gifts on the male. His emotions had been genuine. Unfortunately, falling in love had only increased the pheromones. Arial hadn’t stood a chance against him though he had fought a ferocious battle against his desires.
He turned to meet the angel’s disgruntled expression. Even without his wings, he was so fucking beautiful it hurt Bastian to look at him. His fingers curled into fists in an effort not to touch him. “Offer me a drink?”
“Your hosts just left. You should have asked them.” Arial shoved past him and headed for the door. His easy dismissal torqued Bastian’s explosive demon temper.
With a thought, the diminutive human form disappeared. Rhys blurred; his massive form blocked the exit. When Arial moved to circle him, Rhys grasped both of his biceps. He dropped his head and his forked tongue flicked over Arial’s throat. The angel went stone still. “They don’t have what I thirst for,” he growled.
“Too fucking bad for you,” Arial snarled. He tried to yank free of Rhys’ grasp, but Rhys held on tighter.
“Let me go.”
“No.” Instead, Rhys slid an arm around Arial’s waist. He jerked the angel tighter into his body. “Not ever again. You are mine.”
Arial cursed and bucked against Rhys. The familiar slide of hard muscle against his body enflamed Rhys’ incubus nature. The desperate need to fuck threatened to swallow his senses. “Not anymore. I’m not the same male you knew. Now, let go of me before I have to hurt you.”
Rhys laughed, actually threw back his head and laughed. “You think anything you can do to me will hurt more than losing you?” Rhys’ humor vanished as fast as it appeared. “Or as much as seeing what they’ve done to you because of me?”
Rhys released Arial’s arm to trail his fingers over the broken and burned appendages at Arial’s back. He recalled vividly the beautiful plumage of Arial’s wings. A deep base rumbled from the center of his chest. “I dreamed of your wings, of being wrapped in them again, feeling their soft silk brush against my heated skin.”
At Rhys’ words, Arial’s struggle intensified. He fought like a wild beast that had been caged and tortured. His pain leached through his skin to taunt the demon. But, instead of enjoying the licks of agony and anguish, Rhys roared inside for the injuries done to the male he loved. A male innocent of wrongdoing, a male guilty only of loving a soul desperately unworthy of an angel’s precious love.
Arial’s destruction was Rhys’ fault, and there was fuck all he could do to alleviate the situation. But, he could love Arial and love him with all of the power he possessed. However, a demon’s love wasn’t much consolation for one who had once walked the gilded halls of Heaven. He could never give back the things that had been taken from Arial. The thought frustrated him.
Twisting around, he pinned Arial against the wall and forced the angel to be still by the sheer power of his much larger body. He claimed Arial’s mouth in a hard possessive kiss. With Arial’s barriers down, their passion detonated. Arial stopped pushing him away; his hands became possessive. Rhys’ flesh bled from the furrows of Arial’s nails against his back. The angel lifted a leg to hook around Rhys’ waist.
Rhys wasted little time in pressing closer to the male. Rhys’ traced the hollows and hills of Arial’s back with the pads of his fingers before lifting his hands to the wing mounts. From experience, Rhys knew the area to be extra sensitive. Arial shuddered in his arms when Rhys stroked the ragged, splintered skin where his wings sprouted from his back.
“Don’t,” Arial choked out after breaking their kiss.
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
Rhys knew it didn’t. The rapid beat of Arial’s heart thundered in his ears. “Then just stop thinking and feel. I can smell your arousal,” Rhys purred against Arial’s throat. “Your scent screams with your need. I can smell what’s leaking out of you.” His tongue traced Arial’s jaw. “You want this; you want me.”
“It doesn’t matter what I want. I can’t!”
Arial twisted in his arms, trying to slip away from the intimate touch. Their cocks smashed together between their writhing bodies. The friction sent flames dancing down Rhys’ spine. He groaned and ground his aching erection against Arial.
“You will.” Rhys wanted skin on skin. He dropped his hands to Arial’s ass. The leather disintegrated beneath his palms. Rhys gripped the firm muscle and lifted Arial off of his feet. With no leverage, Arial gave up the struggle to escape. Instead, he wrapped those powerful thighs around Rhys’ hips and squeezed. Strong fingers tunneled into Rhys’ hair and fisted. Lips crashed together. Arial took control of the embrace. His capitulation spiraled Rhys’ lust into the stratosphere.
He held Arial in place, chest to chest and hips to hips. He drove his hands between them frantic to find the straining erections. Arial growled his approval as he licked his way across Rhys’ jaw and down his throat. Fangs scraped against Rhys’ skin. Arial froze, but Rhys had expected his angel’s reaction to his nearness.
“Drink, Arial. Take the nourishment I give you willingly.”
“It’s vile, the curse I bear. I could very well hurt you; even kill you.”
“And, I would die in peace in your arms, knowing you lived.”
Arial’s shocked eyes collided with Rhys’ own. Rhys lifted his chin exposing the thick red column of his throat. Arial’s tongue appeared and rimmed his lips. Rhys thrust upward driving the ridge of his swollen cock into the cleft of Arial’s ass. It was enough to force Arial’s hand. He struck with the force of a Mack truck.
Rhys felt the penetration all the way to the soles of his feet. Fire danced in the air around them. Ash rained down to stain the pristine carpet. Rhys’ hips bucked and thrust in unison with Arial’s draws on his vein. An orgasm boiled in Rhys’ balls even though he wasn’t sheathed inside of his male.
The door to their right crashed open. Rhys swung away, shoving Arial behind him. He crouched and snarled as a quartet of armed Nephilim surged through the door. A vampire sauntered in with a smile. Rhys smelled Hell on him and on the female that strolled in behind him.
“My, my. Aren’t you a pretty sight? No wonder Celix hasn’t returned.” Despite the wings on her back and the scent of Heaven singing in her veins, Rhys recognized the presence of evil. “After I punish him, I just might have to have a taste of you myself.”
“You’re out of luck, bitch. I don’t fuck my father’s sloppy seconds. I smell him all over you.”
“Rhys,” she breathed. “At long last, we meet.” Her eyes roamed over him and then flicked over his shoulder. “Arial!” The name fell like venom from her lips.
“Onoskelis.”
“I am your mother; you will address me as such,” she screeched. “What are you doing here with him? The curse was supposed to keep you away. I have plans for you. You will lead my Nephilim army against these Godforsaken vampires and other foul creatures. I made you Fallen for a reason.”
The words snapped the chains leashing Rhys’ fury. He roared a challenge that shook the walls of the Vatican. Doors flew open. Clariel and Celix stumbled into the room.
“By order of your Queen, you are commanded to return to Nephilim headquarters for punishment and reassignment.” The vampire spoke into the ensuing silence.
“Not now, you idiot,” the female spat.
“Queen?” Arial snapped. “What nonsense is this, Darklon?”
Clariel’s skin went chalk white. “The Nephilim queen.” Celix tried to drag the wingless Nephilim back into their bedchamber. The other Nephilim moved to intercept them. Rhys registered all of it while keeping his eyes on the female who had stolen everything from him and Arial. Flames arced across the room. The four Nephilim guards exploded in bursts of fire. Sulphur thickened the air. Rhys nudged Arial to the side and prowled toward the female angel and her vampire escort.
“You will die for what you did to him, for what you took from him.” Rhys’ voice shook the glass in the windows.
Rhys growled and flicked his wrist. The vampire crashed into the wall. “You think to summon a demon to stop me? I am the son of…”
“Lucifer!” Onoskelis shouted.
“Now, you claim me,” Satan smirked as he gazed upon his son. “To save the worthless hide of a Fallen angel?”
~*~*~*~
Chapter Twenty-Seven
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The moments when Laziel got to spend any amount of private time with Lachi were becoming a rarity. Locked in his male’s embrace while Destahny slept in her crib at the foot of their bed, Laziel sighed in contentment. Fingertips made lazy circles across his back. Lachi seemed more relaxed than he’d been in a long time. Their spell at the brothel had gone a long way in healing the rift between them. And in the nights that followed, they took great pleasure in further breaching the gap.
Laziel’s body glowed from the love Lachi bestowed on him, and in return, Laziel fueled the vampire’s heart with more than blood. His essence fortified Lachi in body and mind. It mingled with the blood Lachi had taken, giving it a boost in potency. Lachi would be feeling the effects for weeks. Purring like a kitten, Laz nuzzled against the heated skin of his vampire and gave a self-satisfied grin. The grin quickly soured as the manifestation of evil incarnate crawled over his skin.
In her crib, Destahny wailed. Her celestial imprint recognized the same malevolent presence. In the time it took to blink, armor coated Laziel’s chest. The Spear of Destiny appeared in his hand. His whole demeanor changed. He became the Creator’s mighty Seraphim warrior. His eyes locked with Lachi’s crimson glare.
“And so, the war begins. Take Destahny, go out through my chapel to the room beneath. Lucifer cannot follow you there. Be safe. Protect what is ours with your life.” Spear in hand, Laziel lifted his wings and became the essence of light. The desire to have Lachi fight at his side paled in comparison with the desire to keep him and their daughter safe, especially when it came to the entity responsible for decimating Laziel’s race.
Eyes that held the flames of Heaven assessed the room and those within. Sadness and fury at Darklon’s treachery and the appearance of his nemesis stoked his ire. The Spear of Destiny came to rest with its lethal tip pressed against Lucifer’s heart. Laziel didn’t speak, refused to meet Arial’s astonished glare. A sudden gasp filled the air. Laziel’s fury grew.
Onoskelis, one of the Creator’s once esteemed angels shifted her glare between her son and Laziel. The traitorous celestial reeked of Hell and betrayal as she dropped to her knees and beseeched Laziel’s forgiveness. Ignoring her trembling form, Laziel pressed the spear against Lucifer’s flesh. Eyes full of venom dared Laziel to make his move.
“The mighty Seraphim. Please pass my regards on to daddy, won’t you?” Lucifer spat. His forked tongue flicked, tasted the air before reaching out to lick over Laziel’s cheek. A screech followed by the scent of burned flesh echoed through the room. Lucifer’s pain sent a surge of red flames dancing around the tips of his horns.
“You never did learn to keep your stupid mouth shut. One of the reasons you ended up in Hell. Bragging rights to unforgivable sin, foolish mix, Lucy. Now, I suggest you take your leave, unless of course this is a challenge of war. I’d be only too happy to accept.” Laziel smirked at the rise and fall of Lucifer’s Adam’s apple. He inched the Spear that little bit closer in the hopes of enticing a reaction. Lucifer shuddered. The Spear was the only weapon capable of causing him harm. Laziel had wielded it throughout their last war, freeing thousands of souls into the kingdom of his Creator’s arms with its power.
“No war. Not today. I only came because that foolish miscreant is summoning souls from my realm. It seems he’s not pleased with your lover’s rule. Want me to take him? I don’t mind, his soul is deliciously corrupt and full of sin.” Lucifer grinned, showing rows of sharpened teeth. He turned his attention to Darklon who looked as though he was about to combust from fear.
“Any other time, I’d be happy to hand him over, but like you said. Not today, Lucy. Until next time.” Laziel’s eyes started to shine, blinding Lucifer.
“Not without my son.” Ropes of fire lashed from the devil’s hands and snaked toward Bastian. Everyone moved at once. Darklon, ever the coward, ran from the room. Arial rose up to block Lucifer’s tentacles of flame and shield Bastian from his father’s fury. A scream pierced the corner of the room. Clariel tore free of Celix’s hold and threw himself at Lucifer in a bid to save his friends.
Flames erupted around Lucifer, engulfing the angelic Nephilim in their grip. Clarry fell. Embraced by evil, he cried out, arms reaching for Celix. The other Nephilim fanned his powerful wings in a bid to draw the flames away from the naive young Clariel.
Laziel cast out the flames, dousing them in the purity of Heaven’s light, but it was too late. Clarry writhed in agony. Eyes wide, he reached out to Celix who dropped to his knees and pulled the wingless Nephilim into his chest. Celix roared as he buried his face in Clarry’s neck. He rocked back and forth, holding the limp body and wrapping Clariel in the arc of his scorched and smoking wings.
“Save him, please. Please!” Celix’s devastation poured throughout the room. The scent of brimstone signaled Lucifer’s departure, leaving Laziel to face the devastation born of Hell’s fire. Laziel vowed Lucifer would pay for taking the life of an innocent.
Dropping to his knees, Laziel brushed his fingers through Celix’s wings in the hope his power would heal them. He knew the act was futile. His touch healed most mortal wounds, but not the ones inflicted by celestial hands or those of the damned. Rhys dropped to his knees beside Laziel. His medical bag flashed into existence, but it sat unused as Clarry’s chest went still.
Tears the color of pearls scattered along the floor. Laziel’s sadness mirrored the torture in Celix’s eyes. Clariel had been Celix’s world. The Nephilim had lived and suffered in order to love and protect the younger Nephilim. He would never survive the heartbreak of losing him.
“Come, my child.” Gregori’s hands offered comfort as he aided Celix to his feet. Laziel hadn’t heard the human pontiff enter the room, but he was glad of his presence. The gentle male seemed to ease Celix as he lifted Clarry’s body. His wings dragged the floor, drooping to match the sorrow in his heart. Feathers littered the floor as he followed Gregori to the door.
“Clariel will be received privately into St. Peter's Basilica until he’s interment. If you would, please pass the news on to Signore Denali.” With a bow of his head, Gregori blessed them before leading Celix from the room.
Ominous silence permeated the room. Arial stood, head bowed, lost in anger and shaking with grief. By Laziel’s side, shock and despair shadowed the demon’s face. At the far side of the room on her knees with her face hidden beneath celestial wings, Onoskelis crouched. In the face of Clarry’s death, her betrayal of the Creator and her angelic heritage cut deep and left an acrid, bitter taste in Laziel’s mouth.
“Onoskelis.” Laziel’s voice shook plaster from the walls. The lights flickered from the surge of energy infiltrating the room. Laziel’s anger soared. He lifted an open palm drawing the Nephilim queen into the air. At his will, he forced her to meet his deadly glare.
“For your treachery and lies against the Creator, I condemn you. For your abandonment of a holy soul and your instigation in the devastation of your son’s life and for the curse you so willfully instilled within him, I banish you from Heaven’s gates. And for your participation and alliance with Lucifer and the creation of a race born to inflict harm and death, I strike thee down.”
“Your desire to walk on this mortal Earth shall be granted. You will feel the pain of the loss you have helped to create, and hence forth, you will feel the pain of the mortal world as if you were one of them. In the name of the Creator, I denounce you of your celestial grace. I command you to kneel before me, Onoskelis.” Laziel roared and with a strike of his hand, he tore away the wings from her back.
~*~*~*~
Chapter Twenty-Eight
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Disgust, anger and sadness filled the abyss of Arial’s heart. His mother’s treachery and her plans to have him join the ranks of the Nephilim had been thwarted, for the moment. But, it came at a cost far too high for his heart to bear. He felt no remorse or compassion for the female who’d damned him. Her punishment was just and who better to deliver her to her knees than a descendant of the Creator.
Laziel’s heritage shocked him to the soul. He’d been in the company of the Creator’s son, befriended him, and taken a vow of loyalty to him. Arial couldn’t grasp the enormity of such news; yet, it paled into insignificance compared to the loss of Clariel. His death made no sense. The spur of the moment act of bravery meant to protect Bastian, a being of immeasurable strength who could have easily defended himself, had taken an innocent and trusting young life.
“Why? Why did he do that?” Rhys’ voice broke into Arial’s thoughts, voicing the very question he’d been asking himself.
“Innocence knows no fear. Clariel sought out the light he saw inside of you. He acted in the belief that you were worth saving. He sacrificed himself and the love he held for Celix to protect you. I pray his death was not in vain,” Laziel whispered.
“Celix? This will break him. How can we help him?” Arial asked, ignoring Onoskelis as she stumbled from the room. Her time would come. She would stand, as he did, before the Creator and answer for her sins. She deserved to rot in Lucifer’s domain. Arial cared nothing about her fate. The only pain he felt was for Celix, the Nephilim who’d braved his wrath and ended up befriending him.
“There will be no helping Celix. His soul nor his heart will bear Clariel’s passing. He is broken and will not last the night. The Creator will welcome them as his own, as well he should. Life is unpredictable. Who knows what awaits the rest of us. Every day is a blessing,” Laziel whispered his voice fading as he dissipated before Arial’s eyes.