Embrace the Fire

by Spring Stevens

  Varick was lost in her. Harder and faster and deeper he went as she met each of his thrusts. His body surged with hers and accepted her delicious ecstasy.

  His tail whipped around her body and brought her into a sitting position around his thighs. The tiny horns on his tail dug into her skin and crushed her as close to him as possible. Her hands flew around his neck, and she rocked against his shaft as his wings encircled them both. Tiny, sharp scales on his wings turned sideways as they hovered above the bed. They dug into her wings as he thrust one last, hard time deep within her.

  Her eyes burned bright as his tongue came out and caught a drop of blood that had slid down her wing and dripped onto her neck. His fangs sank into her shoulder as he found his release.

  Varick had other plans; he groaned as his hands went to her arms. His black flames licked her arms and jumped onto her skin as she dug deeper into his shoulders. He grinned as he pulled his fangs from her shoulder and watched as the steam and the smell of scorched flesh filled his nostrils. The flame etched into her skin around her wrists, leaving behind his mark.

  His satisfied growl echoed hers as the black flame seared itself into place. The mark, his mark, was wrapped around her wrists. Delicate intertwining black vines for the whole world to see.

  His! “Mine!”

  He laid her back against the pillows and pulled from her body. She let out a soft moan as he inspected her wounds. When he touched her soft stomach, she arched and caught his hand. His eyes met hers, and he growled as he witnessed her desire for him. She wanted him again, and she reached for his chest.

  The beast roared in delight as he claimed his female in her true form. His! She belonged to him and him alone. No other would ever touch her; no other would take her as he did. No other would ever feel his soul and accept him as he really was, and for that he fell deeply and madly in love with her as he released his past to her heart.

  “Xsp thix rane drine,” he breathed into her ear. “Mine for all time!”

  “Mine!” he roared as the walls trembled and the bed shook violently.

  Chapter 29

  Night settled over the city of Fether, and a low, thick fog filtered around the dark shadowed walls of buildings groaning with the onslaught of the midnight hour. Deep down inside the club, Tortured Souls, in the thirteenth level of the Destroyer sanctuary, eleven Destroyers gathered around a square table.

  Not a soul at the table had not heard Varick’s mental roar as the Mating Rite took place the night before, and not one had not taken a deep breath of ease as it had passed. All Destroyers were linked on a mental level; a necessary precaution that warned all of them when a Destroyer was at his weakest or, worse, captured and tortured.

  Alexander grinned at Varick. “You seem to be in fine spirits.”

  Varick grunted but couldn’t keep the smile from his lips. “You may be the only one here who is pleased I made it out alive.”

  “I still wish to have that discussion with you,” Payne growled as he looked at Varick, “and when the business at hand is taken care of, I expect us to settle our disagreement. Of course, if you fear me and do not show, I will understand.”

  Varick leaned up onto his elbows and gave Payne a blinding smile. “Seems I no longer have the urge to kick your ass, my friend.”

  Payne rolled his eyes and turned to Alexander. “Why did you call us tonight?”

  Alexander frowned as he looked around the table. “Before we get down to business, there is some serious shit here that needs to be taken care of.”

  Varick looked to Eli Dark. He knew the secrets that he had been harboring needed to be out in the open. If necessary, he would wrench it from his mouth by force. And he didn’t hide that fact as he looked him directly in the eyes.

  Eli sat in silence as he looked around the table at the other Destroyers. Slowly, he worked his fingers through his spiky black hair.

  “I won’t have any more secrets getting in the way of our duty.” Alexander gave Eli and Varick a determined look. “I don’t care which one of you spills your guts first, but you’re both going to.”

  Eli glared at Alexander as Varick opened his palm and looked at the black orb that held Eli’s mother’s soul. “Tell your boy that if he doesn’t release my mother’s soul, I’ll rip his throat out.”

  Eli stood, leaned over the table, and turned his glare to Varick. “She has suffered long enough.”

  Alexander jumped to his feet to shove Eli back in his seat, but Varick held out his hand. The black orb pulsed, and Alexander sat down as Varick brought his hand to the tabletop. Varick closed his hand over the orb and felt the pulse, a deep agonizing beat screaming for peace.

  “Go, Varick.” Alexander gave Eli a hard look, one that dared him to open his fanged mouth. “We can wait until you return to finish this.”

  Varick grinned half-heartedly. “No. I want to share with all of you what I go through every time I release a soul. Perhaps then each of you, my friends, my brothers, will understand why I do it in private.”

  Alexander nodded. For a brief moment Varick saw the look of confusion in Alexander’s eyes. The Destroyers all assumed Varick didn’t care what anyone thought or felt. But they were wrong. He had always felt a friendship with each of the Destroyers, a bond. He cared about them, each and every one of them. Perhaps there was reason beyond the insanity. Or insanity behind the reason.

  Everyone at the table watched in silence as Varick placed the orb in his mouth and swallowed. His eyes blazed as the orb slipped down inside his stomach. Varick’s knuckles turned white as he clutched the table’s edge. His head flew back, and the flames inside him burst from his skin. As the flame inside his body consumed the vampire’s heart, his back arched against the pain and misery of the trapped soul buried deep within the black orb.

  Multitudes of hot, pulsing streaks of pain reached out to the other Destroyers, and Varick’s agony gripped their hearts as the soul of Antonia screamed inside their minds. The brothers closed their eyes as Varick’s nose bled and his eyes rolled back into his head. He fell forward and groaned as Antonia’s soul misted out of his mouth and swirled around the room.

  Varick gripped the table and stood. His guts twisted and lurched as the orb was forced from his body. He coughed and gagged as the orb came up his throat. His stomach flipped, and he puked; black blood and the now-white orb spewed out onto the table. The Destroyers sighed as the pain disappeared from their minds.

  Antonia’s soul whipped around Eli, a transparent hand hovering over his heart. “Mom. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

  Gyth appeared, his form shimmering next to Varick. In his hand, a round glass container glowed softly. Antonia’s soul swirled around Gyth, taking shape and settling between him and Varick. She held her hand out over the container and turned to Varick.

  “Thank you, Destroyer.” Her words were the barest whisper of sound.

  Her form misted, slowly swirling as she slipped inside the container. Gyth held his hand out, closed his eyes. The container vanished.

  Eli spoke, his voice cracking. “What now? What happens to her soul?”

  Gyth answered, “She will be taken to Illusion Fields where she will wait for Feverand’s soul to be released. She is at peace now.”

  Varick took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his mouth and nose as he slowly sat down and took a deep breath. His insides trembled. Nausea followed. But then it always did. Breathing through the nausea, he met Eli’s eyes.

  Eli’s head dropped. “When I find the vampire holding my father’s soul, I will bring the orb to you.”

  Varick nodded and looked up at Gyth as the god laid his hand on his shoulder. He met his eyes. An odd sensation ran down his spine as Gyth continued to stare at him.

  When Gyth spoke, Varick looked around the table. None of the others seemed to be able to hear the words. “D
o you see the importance of the power inside you? Do you understand why the beast is necessary?”

  “The beast is a curse.”

  Gyth shook his head. “It’s a blessing.”

  Varick shrugged out of his grasp. A quick retort was on his tongue. If he could piss the god off enough, maybe he would disintegrate the beast along with himself. But then, there was Angelica and he wanted to see her again, feel her again.

  Alexander spoke bringing Varick out of his thoughts. “Eli, just where the hell have you been for the last thirty years?”

  All heads snapped to Varick’s face as he answered. “He was raising his sister as he searched for the vampires that took his mother and father’s souls.”

  “How the fuck did you know that?” Eli demanded as he gave Gyth a wary look.

  Gyth’s lip twitched. His eyes narrowed. The red ends of his hair fanned out slightly as if a light breeze had swirled through the room. Varick knew the god well enough to know Eli had crossed him. And there would be repercussions.

  Varick spoke softly, “Angelica is here.”

  Apoc, Kreach, Alexander, and Payne leaned back in their seats and groaned. Only one question needed to be asked, and not one of the four was about to ask it.

  “Where the hell is she?” Eli asked. “And why the fuck is she here?”

  Alexander held his breath as Varick smiled and answered, “She is in my bed at the moment.”

  Eli jumped to his feet with and blood in his eyes. “You fucking half-breed vampire bastard! She deserves better than you.”

  Varick slowly stood. “She has gone through the Burning and has taken me through my Mating Rite.”

  Payne groaned as Varick unbuttoned his shirt. The shirt fell to the table as Varick showed his chest. Several curses erupted. Eli slammed back down into the chair with a curse. They all stared at the mark on his chest. It was deep, scabbed. Angelica’s name was etched into his flesh above his right nipple, the letter l shaped like a dagger.

  “I should kill you where you stand.” Eli pulled his Glock 45s out of the holster hidden under his trench coat and laid them on the table. “She is my sister and deserves better than a half-breed.”

  Payne stood pulling his swords from the sheath on his back. “You’ll die before you fire the first shot.”

  Bloodshot topaz eyes met black ones. “He’s not stupid enough to attack me now, my brother. If he does he’ll have to deal with his sister, and she is one even I don’t want to quarrel with.”

  “If anyone is going to kill you, it’s going to me.” Payne replaced his swords.

  Varick laughed. “Don’t worry yourself. If anyone can, which I doubt, it would most certainly be you.”

  Alexander cleared his throat. “Payne?”

  Payne grumbled under his breath, “What?”

  “You have an assignment. You’re going either of two ways.” Alexander rubbed his temple.

  Payne slammed his fist down on the table, looked at Gyth. “And what are my choices?”

  “You have two choices.” Gyth’s lip twitched again. “Your own methods or mine.”

  The power in his voice was undeniable, but Payne was Payne. “Screw you!”

  Gyth grunted, the red-tinged ends of his hair flaring out before settling once again down his spine, and snapped his fingers. Payne vanished in a cloud of sulfuric smoke. “My way, then.”

  Varick snarled, hatred seething and simmering in his eyes. “Where did you send him?”

  Gyth slammed his fist down on the table, splintering it down the middle. “Silence! I am lord and king, I am your master!”

  The low vibration that rumbled out of Varick’s chest sent all the chairs scraping backwards and brought the other Destroyers to their feet. Several gasps escaped as black wings unfurled through two slits on Varick’s back. His mouth opened and his fangs extended past his bottom lip as he glared at the god before him.

  “Where. Is. Payne?” The Destroyer in Varick roared, the vampire hissed, and the friend in him screamed. “Tell me or destroy me! I won’t follow a god who places himself above those who have followed him without question, without pause.”

  Gyth’s eyes were molten red, his hair fanning out again, his fingernails extending. “Stand down, Varick Ta Farg, or suffer my wraith!”

  Alexander leapt across the table. Eli caught Apoc around the waist, taking him to the floor as Alexander slammed Varick into the wall. Kreach stood, stepped past Eli and Apoc, and reached for Gyth.

  Gyth roared and slammed his palm into his chest. Kreach flew backwards, his head bouncing off the steel wall and blood splattering. He fell to his knees with a thud. A low and menacingly evil sound vibrated from the center of his being and rippled across the room. Winds danced around his body, lifting him from his knees to his feet. His body was bent, his shoulders shaking with rage and violent intentions.

  Varick caught Alexander with an upper cut and used his shoulder to shove him away just enough to sidestep and rush Gyth. Kreach was two steps ahead of him as Varick went for Kreach’s legs. Gyth snarled and brought his hand back, his palm filled with electrical sparks. Kreach opened his mouth as Varick wrapped both arms around his legs and brought him down.

  The floor and Kreach’s chest crushed together, the floor groaning and dust swirling upwards around him and Varick. He caught his breath as Varick rolled him over and got in his face.

  “Look at me.” Varick wrapped his fingers around Kreach’s skull, forcing him to look Varick in the eyes. “Stop, Kreach. Don’t fight my battles. Don’t look death in the face and growl at it, my brother, no matter how bad you want it. Not today, not for me.”

  Kreach’s emerald eyes focused slowly on the brother on top of him. His anger diminished, his soul clawing at his skin but calming. Varick’s deep baritone invaded his mental barriers.

  Not for me, Kreach, don’t die because of me, not for me.

  Kreach was stunned, shocked to say the least. Varick?

  Don’t give him the satisfaction of fighting him.

  Kreach grunted and shoved Varick aside as he stood, gathering his composure and running his clawed fingertips over his shaved skull. Varick knew Kreach would have gone postal and there would have been no turning back. Turning on his heel, Kreach vanished, leaving his guttural growl behind him to echo around the room.

  Gyth uttered in disgust. “I’m going to have to put that beast down if he does not learn how to control himself.” He turned to look at Varick. “And you — you will stand down and take orders. You’re out of your element, be it due to the Mating Rite or letting Angelica Dark mark you, but because of it, you’re taken off patrol for at least a month.”

  Varick shoved Alexander out of his path as he headed for the door. “Is that a fucking order?”

  As Varick slammed the door behind him, he fell to his knees, clutching his head. Gyth’s voice bounced around inside him, vibrating his bones.

  You bet your less than sweet ass it is, Destroyer! Enjoy your mate, Varick, for time is not on your side.

  Despite the excruciating pain, Varick laughed. “Says the god who gave me immortality? Time has always been on my side.”

  Prepare yourself, warrior. Soon, a diverged road will appear before you. Choose carefully — your destiny is at stake.

  Struggling to get to his feet, Varick took a deep breath as Gyth’s presence left his senses. “In Payne’s words, screw you.”

  Chapter 30

  “Your mother is speaking about her pregnancy in this section.” Varick brought Angelica’s fingers to his lips and pressed a small kiss on her knuckles. “And the next one is how Feverand talks to Eli inside the womb.”

  Angelica cuddled closer to Varick as he read from the diary. “‘I’m in my late third trimester. Eli is a kicker; my ribs stay sore. I still have a hard time believing I’m finally having a c
hild. Feverand is excited, but I have my worries as all mothers would, I suppose. Eli is going to be Destroyer, born into it, unlike his father. Gyth has told us he will go through the Burning but he will not have to suffer the Mating Rite.’”

  Angelica abruptly sat up. “Oh, my God.”

  “What is it, Angelica?” Varick closed the book and gently laid it aside.

  “I just realized my brother isn’t as young as he looks, is he? I mean, that diary is old — really, really old.”

  He chuckled. “I remember the day he was born.”

  Turning, she gave him an exasperated look. “Just now thinking about telling me that little bit of information? Don’t you think that would have been pertinent info before you started reading the diary? Just how old is he, Mr. Keep-It-to-Myself?”

  He chuckled again as he slid his hands behind his head, giving her an ample view of his splendid chest. “He’s eight hundred years old.”

  His grin turned into a full-blown smile when her mouth dropped open. “Eight hundred?” She closed her gaping mouth and narrowed her eyes as she leaned across his chest and propped her head in her hands. “And just how old are you?”

  “Much too old for you, my angel.”

  “Yeah, well I knew that by all that white hair of yours.” She grinned as she slipped her hands up his chest and worked her fingers into the silky strands. “How old?”

  He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with her stormy fragrance. “I was the first of the Destroyers.”

  A mischievous grin spread across her face as she worked her way up his chest, pressing feather-light kisses along her path. “Oh, I see.”

  He groaned as her pink tongue flicked out onto his skin. “You see what, exactly?”

  She paused at his collar, nipping gently as his hands found her waist and then her hips. “I see you have robbed the cradle.”