by V L Moon
His grip on the reins tightened, twisting Laziel’s head to the side as he drank deep. His hips rocketed faster and faster, a blur of movement, fueled by vampire speed and lust. Caught in Malachi’s brutal embrace, Laziel bore it all without a sound, commanded entirely by Malachi’s demand for utter silence. Malachi’s balls throbbed, his orgasm finally reaching a peak. His sac tightened, drawing up.
With a grunt, he released the angel’s throat, swallowing the last mouthful of rich crimson. His seed boiled deep in his loins ready to erupt. Hastily, he shook loose the reins as he jerked free of his angel. Ducking under Laz’s left wing, he ripped the bridle free of the angel’s lips with one hand and palmed the back of his head with the other. Before the angel could take a proper breath, Malachi filled his mouth and throat with his aching cock. With two savage thrusts and the moist caress of Laziel’s tongue, his climax thundered up from his balls and screamed through his cock to explode into the sultry haven of the angel’s mouth. Burying both hands in Laziel’s thick mane of hair, he clenched his fists as he continued to pound his spewing cock against Laz’s throat. Finally, his seed ran out and spent, he fell to his knees before his mate.
Heart pounding, body throbbing, mind clear, Malachi drew in harsh breaths. Below them, he heard the frantic kicks of the stallions against their stall doors. The scent of blood and sex would be driving them wild. But, it was the savage monster inside that he listened for and did not hear. For the moment, the angel had tamed the beast.
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Star bursts of pain receded, leaving behind a symphony orchestrated by a series of satisfied, muffled sighs which held no depth compared to the implosion of emotion seeping through Laziel’s veins. Lachi was the Seraphim’s world, his lover, his giver of pain in such wondrous measures it took great fortitude not to drown in the flood of the vampire’s unearthly allure. As Lachi's hips pistoned hard, thrusting his meaty length deep within Laziel’s pouting mouth, Laziel fed. He drank hungrily from the power of the male’s shattering release.
Lachi's seed filled Laziel, sating his consuming thirst in an overflowing display of erogenous lust. It was only when the milking finally abated that Laziel was left with the all too familiar aching emptiness of wanting more. He craved his mate…
Calling on the strength of his celestial soul, Laziel drew from the light of his rightful birth and slipped free of his confines. He didn't speak…didn't breathe as the width of his satin black wings guided him down to his knees in position alongside his kneeling vampire. Eyes glowing from the need to feel and touch, Laziel reached out with tentative hands and brushed up over the densely packed muscles of Lachi's thighs. The vampire trembled beneath the weight of his fingers. The flow of power radiating from Laziel sent a cool wave of energy over Lachi, a balm to his ill...tempered will. Laziel stroked, easing Lachi with tentative caresses and brought him forward into his embrace until their bodies fused in a glistening display of melded flesh.
Desiring the taste of Lachi's mouth, Laziel tentatively brushed away the fallen locks of ebony hair from where they lay against the vampire’s lips. He licked with indecent intent across the seam of Lachi’s full ripe mouth, purring with animalistic hunger when the vampire allowed the rare gift of a little affection. With the freedom to savor accepted, Laziel slowly devoured the depths of Lachi’s mouth. His taste was hypnotic, yet enticing.
With the erotic bloom in his mouth, Laziel groaned at the intoxicating flavor and suckled deeply on the vampire’s tongue before rolling it illicitly against his own. Their hands roamed of their own violation, caressing, holding and teasing the flesh at every dip and delicious curve of muscle and arch of wings. The tender touch by previously harsh hands drew long ragged moans from the depths of Laziel's heaving chest. As the length of his sex pulsated to the rhythm of his panting breath, he fisted both hands in the ebony locks of Lachi's hair and reared up on his knees aiming his sex toward the vampire’s seductive mouth.
Lachi grinned up at him. Licking down his fangs, he pierced the tip of his tongue and moistened his lips with the sweet crimson of his own blood. Laziel was lost. When the searing hot seal of slick wet heat engulfed the girth of his pulsating cock, Laziel roared. His hips pistoned in wild frantic thrusts deep into the cavernous well of Lachi’s lush mouth. Blood coated the length of Laziel’s swollen shaft.
The scent of Laziel’s lust fuelled Lachi's incredible thirst as he opened his throat and swallowed him whole. The glorious wet slide of lips followed by grunts of exertion rented the air to mix with the addictive scent of sex and blood. Laziel bucked wildly, his hair flailing around them as the torrid bloom of release shattered the calm of the cool night air. An emanating glow encompassed them both. The broad expanse of satin black wings arched inward and drew Lachi into Laziel’s arms. Carefully, he wrapped them both within the cradle of his wings and the blinding white light of his happiness. Lachi would always be Laziel’s world…and the breath they breathed would always be one and the same.
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN
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ANCHORAGE, ALASKA
Antonia Leslie’s killer stood but a few paces away from the one who hunted him. The poor human planned and plotted woefully unaware of the danger lurking in the darkness. Jasper Collins operated under the false impression he was about to take his second victim. But, he was wrong…so very wrong. The immense male in the shadows harbored other plans for Collins. For the past three nights as Collins tracked his prey, Vischeral Bourne, homicide detective for the Anchorage Police Department, stalked the predator, his every move cataloged.
Concealed in the shadows, Vischeral eyed the briefcase in Collins’ hand. If the perp stayed true to form, it held a length of rope, thin razor wire, a hunting knife with a six inch blade, duct tape and latex gloves. All things necessary for a kidnapping and killing. Too bad, the bastard’s plans were going to be for naught. Eyes darker than the night tracked him even as he cased his target. Fists nearly the size of Collins’ head clenched and unclenched as adrenaline spiked through the vampire.
Vischeral never took his cold black gaze from Collins. He hated the female would have to be taken and subjected to even one minute of the killer’s attention. But, his enhanced sense of smell and his ability to read every demon spawned thought in the sociopath’s head were not evidence easily admitted to the human court. Thus, he endeavored to catch the motherfucker in the act. A snarl curled his lip as the male moved forward. He looked like an everyday bloke on his way home from work, the khaki pants, navy polo shirt and loafers about as threatening as a kitten pouncing on a ball of yarn. The young female he targeted could have posed as Antonia’s double, the same dark mahogany hair, slightly plumb build, warm chocolate brown eyes…only her name was Vanessa and she was a year younger than Antonia. If not for Vischeral’s presence, her death would headline the morning news, her only mistake having been to stop and answer Collin’s innocuous request for directions almost a week ago.
Shrouded in the gloom of night, Vischeral watched amazed yet again at the stupidity of the humans surrounding Vanessa. Collins walked right up to her, carried on a brief conversation and slammed a chloroform soaked rag over her nose. Though she struggled and he practically carried her limp form from the park, neither the three college boys kicking around a hacky sack and bullshitting about their dates the previous weekend, the mother and two children arguing over whether it would be McDonald’s or Pizza Hut for dinner, nor the businessman waiting rather impatiently on the bus and talking nonstop on his cell phone noticed the abduction. A growl of frustration rumbled low in his chest as Collins, moving fast now that he was away from the park, hauled Vanessa toward his parked van.
With the lightning speed inherited at his change, Vischeral darted after the killer only to be brought up short by a diminutive elderly female stepping directly into his path. His arms pin wheeled and his boots skidded on the pavement as he barely managed to stop. Frowning down from his six foot seven inch height, he smothered a gro
wl when the feisty little female glared up at him. A reluctant grin curved his mouth when she slammed her purse into his thigh and groused.
“Young ones…always rushing. What the hell for?” She shook a finger up at him. “You think they’re going to move the damn building before you get there?” She swung her purse, clutched in the other hand, once more and then moved around him to unlock her low slung ‘69 Corvette. Seemed she wasn't as immune to speed as she let on. Chuckling at the senior’s audacity, he glanced down the street to see Collins’ taillights disappear into the light traffic. Undeterred, he ducked into the nearest alley and with just a thought sent his form winging towards Collins’ hidey hole.
As his physical self...reformed just outside the workshop behind Collins’ home, he heard the crunch of gravel as the van skirted the house and rounded the corner behind the shed. Doors opened and closed almost soundlessly. Only his enhanced hearing detected the stealthy movements blocked from his sight. Anger writhed through his gut as he listened to Collins mutter obscenities to an incoherent Vanessa while dragging her inside. One minute turned into thirty and then forty. Finally, sounds of the female stirring reached Vischeral's ears.
After waiting patiently for her to wake, Collins swiftly set his twisted game into play. In a college professor’s monotone, he explained to Vanessa exactly what he intended to do with her and to her. Vanessa’s terrified whimpers and muffled screams chipped at the icy shell around Vischeral's dark heart. Fading into the shadows, he eased open the shed door and slipped inside. His massive form made no noise. He knew the moment Vanessa realized he was there; her body sagged with relief if only for a moment. The scent of fresh blood clogged his nose as tears of pain erupted from Vanessa’s eyes.
He lunged from the shadows, one large hand landing on Collins’ neck and lifting him straight up from the floor, the other clamped around Collin’s wrist snapping the bones like twigs and forcing him to drop the knife. Collins’ scream of pain ricocheted around the woodshop and to stop the noise, Vischeral shook him. Hard. When the human’s brain was good and rattled, Vischeral lowered his arm until they were face to face. Opening his mouth, he allowed his fangs to lengthen, the sharp points extending past his lower lip. His words came out in a hiss.
“I hope you try to run, you sick fuck. I really do. I haven’t fed in a long, long time.” The acid bite of urine filled the air and Vischeral grinned maliciously. “Guess that means you plan to keep your ass planted while I free the girl.”
Collins landed in the corner, head slumped forward against his chest. Vischeral pulled his cell from his pocket. Star two connected him to the precinct. While requesting uniforms and an ambulance, he carefully removed the duct tape from Vanessa’s mouth then made quick work of the tape on her wrists and ankles. He read her intent and caught her easily when she launched herself at him. He cradled her trembling body against his chest until the paramedics arrived, but he was only too glad to hand her over to them and focus his attention on Collins when they appeared. Having cased the shop the night before, Vischeral deftly planted thoughts and directed the uniforms to what they needed to find. Collins would not be taking any more victims and Antonia would get justice.
A sharp slap brought Collins back to reality. Vischeral hauled the human filth to his feet by his handcuffed wrists, and quick marched him to a patrol car and shoved him inside. The ride to the station was short and cramped; his tremendous size did not fit well into the department issued Crown Vic. Processing went quickly as did Vischeral's written report. Sensing the sun not far below the horizon, Vischeral strode for the door.
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It only took two weeks for Copi to roll up and ship out. Fourteen short days, and the nightmare of losing his sanity was finally over. No more weird looks or interrupted whispered conversations. Seated on the sofa in the living room of a wooden cabin on the borders of the Chugach State Park, Copi whistled through his teeth as he surveyed the opulent comfort of his new surroundings. Inside his new home, it was warm. The wooden beams stained in rich dark oak made everything feel cozy. The kitchen was amazing, not that he cooked much. The bathroom was spectacular, with a spa bathtub deep enough to sink into and relax and a shower that could house a swat team.
At first, Copi felt there must have been some sort of mix up, but after reviewing the rental papers and checking the details once more, a stupid, excited, childlike grin spread across his face. The view! Crossing over the heated floors, Copi threw open the triple glazed patio doors. He was met with such an amazing scene of natural beauty, it took his breath away. The snow covered mountains ran on forever as did the endless forest of pine trees that blanketed them and ran along the base of them. Lush greenery scented the ice cold air with pine. Somewhere out west of where he stood, the mournful howl of a timber wolf echoed in the air, joined not long after by another eerie howl. The haunting wolf song sent a shiver down Copi’s spine, and he turned to head back inside with another of those face splitting grins spreading across his lightly stubbled face.
He laughed out loud and shook his head. The outdoor hot tub looked like it belonged in a football locker room. It was one feature of his new home he really looked forward to trying out. And soon. The subtle vibration of his cell in his pocket brought him back to earth. The short three word text informed him that his evening was about to get a little more eventful.
“My office. NOW!” Lambert didn’t waste a lot of time.
An hour later, after taking a wrong turn and ending up God only knew where and then backtracking, Copi sat opposite one of the biggest, roughest looking fuckers he’d ever met, and that was saying a lot for a cop from the Bronx. The man introduced himself as Chief, and damn near broke Copi’s hand with his handshake. He settled back in his huge expanse of a chair and ran over what he expected of Copi. The normal rules applied as they did in New York with the exception of the WST, Wildlife State Troopers. If he was assigned to work with them, he was to pay attention.
“The weather and the environment along with the wildlife around here can jump up and bite you in the ass. Literally.” The gruff voice bit out. “The weather can turn so fast it could be days before you’re found, if we can find you at all. In deep winter, the animals are starving; they’ll attack and eat anything they can find.”
Copi took it all in, and by the end of it, his head spun. With the move, the flight up, and his new job, including all the extra risks, Copi needed to be at the top of his game; that meant research…lots of research. He nodded, knowing he had a shit load to learn.
Copi immediately noticed when the Chief frowned. His face took on a sour look as though he’d sucked on a lemon. Copi started to rise from his seat. Shit! The fucker was turning grey! He watched puzzled as Lambert blew out a gust of air and lifted a hand to still Copi in place. His huge frame rose from his seat, and his deep baritone voice called out to someone Copi thought must have been a colleague.
“Bourne, my office. Now.” The Chief’s voice exploded with authority. “Now’s as good a time as any to meet your new partner.” He muttered under his breath before addressing Copi. “Heads up, no sudden movements. You don’t want to piss this motherfucker off. Take things easy and, please, try not to look him in the face. He gets a bit…growly, and don’t be offended, okay? He’s always this happy go lucky. You’ll get used to him. Eventually.” He raised his voice again.
“Get your ass in here and meet your new partner.” An answering snarl crawled over Copi’s skin. He shuddered as the hairs on the back of his neck went up. A shadow seemed to creep over the room. What the fuck? Who turned out the lights? In slow motion, he turned around in his seat and found what was blocking the light source.
“Fuck me,” Copi whispered. If he thought the Chief was big, his size didn’t compare to the motherfucker standing in the middle of the room beyond. Damn! He had to be the biggest bastard Copi had ever seen. At six feet, the Chief stood pretty tall, but this guy…Jesus, he had to be what…six feet five, at least, and wide. Holy smokes, he was God
damned immense. Copi’s gaze swept up the whole length of his new partner’s body. He couldn't stop the rush of icy adrenaline running through his veins, until a bolt of pain seared through his skull like a battering ram as his gaze approached the stranger’s face.
Stand up, fool, and shake his hand. Mentally reprimanding himself, Copi hiked his ass up from his chair and turned to face the doorway and his captivating new partner.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“Bourne, my office. Now.” The Chief’s voice cut across the room; the demand for obedience making Vischeral’s skin crawl. He took one more step toward freedom.
“Get your ass in here and meet your new partner.”
Vischeral barely managed to catch the growl that sprung to his throat. Swallowing hard, he met the Chief’s unrelenting stare through the glass partition. “I do NOT work with partners. You…”
The Chief cut him off, his tone brooking no disagreement. “YOU. DO. FUCKING. NOW.”
This time the growl escaped and the officers filing past Vischeral backed away warily. Fighting for control, Vischeral forced himself to take the first step in the direction of his Chief’s office. Through the glass, he saw the outline of a good sized male in front of the desk.
Thank fuck it wasn’t a female. Females asked too many personal questions. They wanted to get to know their partners. A male saved him from being outright rude. Males didn't give a shit and if they did, he could terrify them into silence with less of a burden on his barely there conscious.