by V L Moon
The name on the email drew a frown. Copi Dane? Anchorage, Alaska? That was Caintook’s enclave. Lachi clicked on the missive and exhaled harshly when it opened.
“I’m okay. Tell the angel to kiss my ass. V.”
What the hell? The contact out of the blue threw him coming so close on the heels of Arial’s report on Darklon. The menace circling him seemed to tighten its grip cutting off his air. Quickly, he hit delete and shoved the keyboard away from him. Had the angel contacted Vischeral? Why? He knew the danger. Malachi rubbed a hand across the ache constricting his chest.
Vischeral and Laziel.
The only two beings he’d ever allowed close enough to inspire emotion and the two perfect reasons why he locked his feelings away from the world. He’d lost one to Darklon; hell would freeze over before he lost the other. Laziel’s face floated against his closed eyelids. In his chest, his heart constricted. Though he refused to acknowledge or declare his inner most desires, he loved Laziel, and not the sweet syrupy love the bards described in flowery prose. The angel owned him body and soul.
Malachi shoved away from the desk, his feet finding the path trod earlier by the celestial. As it had since the meeting with the Fallen, his mind churned. He knew without question, that if the choice ever came down to his angel or the race, his destiny would go unfulfilled. He remembered vividly, the first night of sexual exploration with Laziel. Wild and untamed, bordering on the edge of insanity, they’d come together like two stars colliding. It was in the early hours of the next morning as the angel lay spent and sleeping against his chest that he realized the one he held was the key to his demise. He would forsake everything to keep Laziel in his arms, in his bed and at his side. Even then, he refused to allow the word to evolve in his mind. To put voice to the emotion, to give credence to the thought gave it power. Power that could destroy them both.
He knew rumors abounded about their sexual proclivities, but vampires were famed for their sexual prowess. With pure, undiluted blood thrumming through his system, his lust surpassed the norm. But, it was the savagery of his vampiric nature that demanded pain and bloodshed. To keep from terrorizing his own race or the human populace, he’d had to find an outlet for the savagery that coursed thickly in his veins sometimes robbing him of the ability to think clearly. Hardcore, violent sex filled that need.
Before Laziel took up residence in his bed as a partner, hordes of partners had come and gone spreading tales of his wicked desires and sadistic nature. Therein, lay the safety of their physical intimacy. None questioned the connection, fearful they would be required to fill the angel’s role. Even Darklon paled at the thought of entering Malachi’s chamber of lust and depravity.
Sex aside, mentorship notwithstanding, Malachi’s sanity, his existence and his soul needed the angel and not just for the blood he so willingly provided. His large frame shuddered as the powerful emotion swamped him and he sank to his knees, head bowed, and arms hanging limply. All alone, he gave free rein to the despair. What he wanted most he could not have, what he fought to save meant nothing without the celestial at his side. Born to save his race, trapped in his fate, he mourned the one thing, the only thing he wanted. Tears tracked down his cheeks and for the first time ever, he reached out to Him. Laziel’s Creator.
“Take me back unto your fold, banish me to the pits of Hell, obliterate my existence, but I beg of you protect my angel in this brewing war. I cannot fight a battle, I cannot…no. I will not fulfill my destiny if Laziel is taken or killed because of me.”
If he expected a response, a profound understanding, it didn’t come. Feeling foolish, he shored up his walls and pushed to his feet. Swiping angry palms under his eyes, he focused on the computer screen. Vischeral was safe, Laziel virtually indestructible. His own weakness and cowardice infuriated him. What the fuck was he thinking? Faith was best left to the angel. To have faith required a heart, humanity. He couldn’t afford to allow himself either. Cursing fluently, he transported directly to his bathroom.
With the shower set to scalding, he stripped and stepped under the spray hissing as the water blistered his skin. The beast inside reared its head and howled incensed by the pain. Malachi closed his fist around his suddenly engorged cock and set a furious punishing pace. After he erupted spewing the wall with his seed, he ducked beneath the showerhead an unconvincing ploy to blame the moisture on his face to the verdant fall of water.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Confined to one of the many penthouse apartments owned by the vampire monarch, Laziel paced around the sumptuous surroundings and basked in the glow of celestial energy trailing in his wake. Lachi owned many properties and held shares in many lucrative businesses that over the expanse of his preternatural life earned the King a bank balance that ran into the extreme. He could more than afford the luxuries that came with life; yet, he never squandered without need. The businesses kept his mind active and sharp. They were used as a hobby before his seizure of the throne, but the apartments were a necessity, ones they both needed, to keep what they held so sacred from being revealed.
If the Elders of the vampire race ever caught on that Laziel was in fact an androgynous angel that took the form of either sex, it wouldn’t take long for them to deduce they’d been fooled by their King and his very personal guard. Lorenza had not made an appearance in many months, and the doubts were rife in the court. Her appearance was a necessity even though Laziel hated it. They had to further the misconception that Malachi was dating, with the intention to procreate, and that Loz was his chosen mate. If the Elders found out the deception, it could and would be determined a treasonous act. Darklon would have more than enough reason according to their own stupid laws to seek and obtain a punishment of death for their King.
“Like that would ever happen,” Laziel said aloud, letting his thoughts spiral as he anxiously paced.
In masculine form, Laziel seethed. The energy surrounding him practically hummed with the suppressed frustration over the oncoming change. Laziel loathed the physical form that would inhibit his masculine strength. The feeling of contempt that came with relinquishing his male persona for a more feminine form was not without good cause. Just the thought of the influx of its emotions, that even in male form Laziel battled in vain to withhold from the King, scared the angel a damn sight more than any Nephilim or holy war ever could. The female persona was a weakness the angel couldn’t afford, not now, maybe not ever.
With the war on the Nephilim growing out of control and Darklon’s traitorous deeds increasing, Lachi needed protection not some fucking split ass show piece to parade around the Elders’ ball for them to leer at and gesticulate over. Grinding his teeth, Laziel scowled petulantly as the glow around him intensified, signaling the internal struggle of the change between the angel’s two forms. Laziel knew he had to let go, but the thought of being unable to protect his soul mate left him feeling fractured with unease.
Each form maintained its own, different traits; ones specific to the chosen gender the celestial chose to take. Upon summoning the feminine form, Laziel opened himself up to the consuming passion that dwelled within his celestial heart. Softer in nature, Loz was the epitome of love and angelic affection, and the hunger to love and be loved would ride shotgun over Laziel’s more hardy reserve. Drained of the gift of pure physical strength, Loz’s only hope to protect the King would be to draw on the essence of angelic will. A power so raw it would destroy everything surrounding it just to protect one soul; such was the fathomless depths of an angel’s love for its chosen mate. And, Lachi held no clue. If he did, would he summon the angel’s Achilles heel and risk losing everything he’d strived to become and save…for love? Laziel snorted. Love…Lachi couldn’t love. He’d never dare open himself up to what he saw as a weakness. Yet, he demands I summon the demon in me, for everyone to see without realizing the damage and hurt that comes with it.
“Damn it, Denali, you cock sucking motherfucker.” Laziel fumed. Fists clenched he stopped his incessant pacing of the be
droom and looked at his glowing reflection in the dresser mirror.
In this form, he held in abundance everything needed to keep his male safe. Power fuelled his life’s blood and fed strength and stamina unto every muscle and nerve. His reflexes were razor sharp, as homed and undefeated with skills in the art of war. As Laziel he was strong, could take any amount of pain, whether by whip or steel, bullet or brawn. Nothing got through the armored walls of Laziel’s cast iron will. Except for the King. And, that was the undeniable truth behind his objection to changing form.
Lachi held the one and only thing Loz longed for and could never hope to achieve. His heart. For centuries, he’d hidden the depths of his adoration for the vampire King, but had managed to forge a bond between them due to Lachi’s sexual preference for pain and the masculine form. Laziel reveled in the Kings possessively seductive, carnal tastes. Loz wanted more; she wanted love and her needs threatened to overwhelm Laziel.
Wanton desire and the need for his male threatened to overcome the angel’s senses, much to Laziel’s aggravation. Slumping into the leather chair aligned near the dresser, he grabbed at the decanter and poured until the amber liquor threatened to spill from the lead crystal tumbler. His hand visibly shook as the liquor reached his lips and then filled his mouth with mellow warmth. It helped to abate the rising apprehension.
Laziel knew Lachi didn’t understand his objection to the change, how could he? Taking another mouthful that drained the glass of bourbon, Laziel bowed his head between the width of his broad shoulders and sighed in defeat. How could a male like Lachi, so ruthless and unyielding, trained as a cold blooded killer to fight in the war to save his race ever know the sanctity of an angel’s love. By denying himself, he also denied Laziel.
“Let us show him Laziel, just a glimpse of what he could have…with you, his Laziel. Let the softness show him a different path. Show him there’s more in his life than blood and war. An angel’s love is a virtuous gift, one which bestows the power to bring the world as we know it dropping to its knees. Give him that love, show him some peace.”
Her voice was soft, as she spoke through the fortress of Laziel’s mind, cunning and alluring with her affluent promises. But, Laziel knew the depths of his love and how far he’d go to keep Lachi safe.
“Fine,” Loz ranted. “If Lachi wants is a show piece to hang off his arm, then that’s what he’ll get. Don’t want what’s yours on show…fuck you! This angel will show you exactly what it is you’re damn well missing.” Laziel flinched at the harsh words. Loz was tightening her grip and showing her strength in the way she spoke. Laziel knew the fight was lost, and with the clock ticking, all he’d gain by being late was a pissed off vampire, one Loz was forbidden to touch unnecessarily. The thought caused an aching pain within his angelic heart.
Laziel swallowed the hurt along with another good dose of bourbon before crossing into the walk in closet lined with row upon row of designer gowns. He pondered. What could Loz wear to demonstrate the prowess of womanly allure? He trailed fingers over the rows of silk and satin in every color of the rainbow. His fingers stilled when the light reflecting off of a solitary link of rubies caught his eye. Laziel smiled, and eyes the color of chocolate, darkened to a rich seductive pool of lust. They agreed on the dress.
With a beguiling smile that slowly spread lush lips, Laziel laid the slight strip of rich black satin over the luxurious red silk throw adorning the king...size bed and admired its simplistic beauty. Lachi would be furious with such a blatant show of his angel’s flesh. With nothing covering the back, there’d be no way a brassiere could be worn. Angelic laughter trickled into the air and the glow surrounding Laziel intensified into a wave of shimmering gold light.
A cascade of tresses flowed out and down, rolling in waves of lustrous curls that hung around fuller, more rounded hips. Laziel’s features softened to take on an ethereal beauty that shone from every pore of a porcelain complexion. Eyes changed and the wide depths of Loz’s gaze resembled pools of melted, warm chocolate. Curves took the place of densely packed muscle, and an overly ample chest with peaked budded nipples sat firm and bountiful to adorn the now feminine chest. The hands stroking over the highly sensitive mounds were more delicate and topped with long nails painted deep red to match the jewelry chosen to wear with the dress.
She stroked down over the soft flesh of a taut stomach and moaned gently as her fingers slipped between the lips of a petal soft and slickened sex. Stroke after stroke Loz rubbed over and around her heated core until the pressure built inside to clench and release. A breeze scented with the warm undertones of soft spring rain, licked over the surface of flawless skin as the change reached its climax with a cry of Lachi’s name.
Loz’s knees buckled slightly and the beautiful form of her female body stumbled and then slumped onto the bed. Her breath emerged ragged from changing form and the overwhelming release. It had been a while, and she took a few minutes to regain the composure needed to pull of wearing the dress without Lachi realizing the indecent cut until it was too late to change.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Forty minutes later, a smiling Loz was ready. Standing in front of the full length mirror, she meticulously inspected the mass of curls swept up and held with ruby encrusted pins and fingered the trailing loose curls that framed her celestial face. Light make...up emphasized her molten eyes and full, kissable lips stained red. To match the pins in her curls, she wore a pair of small ruby...studded earrings, nothing to distract from the interest in the dress.
With a hemline that rested just below a perfectly rounded ass, the dress dared onlookers to gawk. No doubt it would send many a pulse rate soaring at the ball. But, it was the collar that caught the eye. Consisting of a single row of rubies, it circled her throat in a fiery blast of color that contrasted beautifully with the pale smoothness of her throat. A single line of rubies, growing larger as they descended, lay like a leash down her bared spine. The largest ruby nestled in the almost revealed crevice of her ass. Loz smirked. A flash of ire glowed in her eyes, evidence her masculine persona approved. This was a collar and leash fit for a King…but, not just any King. The design was strictly for the angel’s King, and one that would have her out of the dress and six inch heels and into a sweat suit and sneakers if she didn’t shift her ass and get into a coat before he came through that door.
Loz clipped the topmost silver buckle of the floor length coat just as the air in the apartment changed. The temperature plummeted signaling the arrival of the King, an obviously pissed off male. Her female form bristled with sexual awareness; her nipples hardened and the scent of her yearning saturated the air to mix with the heady cologne worn by the vampire prowling toward her. Loz’s heart lurched, its beat thundering in the vein running up along the column of her creamy smooth neck.
“Malachi, you look…very dashing.” Loz smiled. She knew the heat that rose in her cheeks lent a rosy blush to her flawless complexion. Her eyes immediately lowered. She couldn’t meet the vampire’s eyes without losing the ability to keep her emotions under lock and key. When Lachi drew closer and took her arm, she followed in silence while frantically squashing the wealth of desire harbored in her heart for the male at her arm.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
CHAPTER EIGHT
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The tinted windows of the limousine blocked most of the city lights as they sped through the night. Caught up in his thoughts, Malachi glanced briefly at the hulking figures sitting opposite him. Saul and Jaku remained silent, their eyes glued to the streets beyond, searching the shadows as they passed. He never understood the angel’s insistence that the guards accompany him. If the car happened to be attacked, there was no way in hell he would sit calmly inside and send these males out to fight his battle. Returning his black stare to the window, his thoughts once again turned to the night’s soiree.
Once a year, the Elders sponsored an elaborate ball at the Vatican enclave, throne of their King. Every vampire who wished to attend received an inv
itation. A select collection of human dignitaries also received invites. At the Elder’s Ball, the races gathered together to celebrate the signing of the peace treaty. Although the treaty did little to affect the war with the Nephilim, it had been signed with great intentions. In a world ravaged by war and strife, he understood the need to come together in celebration. He just wished the celebration didn’t have to include him, or the angel. And, therein lay a large part of his angst. Yes, Darklon and his sadistic sidekicks irritated him with their constant demands for a mating and heir, and the constant machinations to steal his throne. But, they did not worry him as much as the angel did.
On many such occasions similar to this night’s event, Loz accompanied him without question. The female provided him with a safety net, a potential mate to still the tongues of his detractors. With the current petitions in circulation and the rumors flying about, it was imperative Loz arrive on his arm tonight. Laziel understood this, had even suggested the ruse in the beginning. So why now, did the angel abhor the change?
The limousine rolled to a smooth stop in front of Loz’s apartment building. Restless from the unaccustomed ride and impatient to question Laziel, Malachi sprang the door before the chauffeur could circle the vehicle. Saul and Jaku materialized at the gilded double doors and swung them wide. As he approached the threshold, the human doorman bowed. “Sire, Mistress Loz told us to expect you. The elevator is waiting to take you up.” Malachi nodded once and entered the plush lobby, crossing immediately to the waiting lift. Unwilling to wait for the guards, he punched the button for the penthouse. A soft ding announced the arrival just before the platinum doors opened.