by V L Moon
Love me. Creator, please love me, just once so that a small part of your heart will live on inside of me. Laziel’s years of mindless longing filled the chasm of the angel’s heart to echo through the once barren chamber. I love you. Why won’t you see that? All I’ve ever been, is yours.
Outside the enclave, thunder boomed and lightening speared through the night sky as the heat in the room swam to dizzying heights. Illuminating light engulfed their euphoric forms. Ecstasy, in all its purist forms erupted within her as the angel writhed; it seared through her, enflaming her core. Lachi trembled beneath her and his head reared back when the light touch of wings encased them together, fusing them as one. Fangs descended and Loz screamed as he penetrated her core with his cock and the thrumming vein that beat in her neck with his fangs. Juices ran slick from her core as her inner walls constricted around Lachi’s shaft. She milked him, fucked him, loved him, and needed him inside her, filling her up with pulse after pulse of rich creamed life. His cock delved within the deepest part of her channel to send fissures of light throughout her form.
She writhed, clenching around him until he thrust into her one last time. The force of his climax filled her, stretched her every sense until she screamed out his name. Lachi collapsed beneath her to lay silent and spent. His rough, large hands cupped the globes of her ass and brought her down onto his chest. His cock twitched inside her as she moved, yet her core refused to release him. Lachi laughed, deep from within his chest. Genuine and rich, the joyful sound was the ultimate gift. It moved her, shattered her last shard of passionate reserve. Why won’t he ever just love me?
Ruby tears fell from eyes that held the epitome of sorrow and crashed to the floor. Loz was blinded, weakened by the undeniable realization that Lachi would never be willing to demonstrate his love in the way the angel so devoutly craved. The angel was truly forsaken.
Silence ensued as she lay against Lachi's heavily breathing form. His hands held her tight, one pressed firmly along the line of her spine, the other buried in the long waves of her hair. When Lachi moved to gently turn on his side, he held Loz against him and buried his face into her neck.
“Want you back, angel mine. I need my male.” He spoke in that deep soft Italian accent that sent a soft pulse rippling through her. When no agonizing pain clenched her core, she relaxed back against Lachi’s wide chest and sighed in relief. Whatever it was that had besieged her body seemed to have passed. All that remained was the feeling of being warmed by the vampire’s eager thrusts and the sensation of being full.
The angel’s eyes grew heavy and a pained smile marred her face. “Soon, Azarian, just for now, let me have this time with you.”
He pulled her in even tighter against the width of his chest, and she surrendered to the male’s incredible heat and strength as he ran his nose, fangs, and then his tongue delicately over the vein in her neck. Tenderly, he kissed over the sluggish pulse and growled before succumbing to the draw of a deep and restful sleep.
A sense of peace washed over Loz’s mind, and she bathed in the serenity of its comforting reverie. She’d change soon, give Lachi back the male form of his guardian angel and bury the glow of love that emanated from their body every time the male called Laziel’s name. Closing her eyes to the world around them, she breathed in Lachi’s amorous scent and smiled as she drank in the aroma of its addictive allure. Sadly, she used its compulsive attraction to pull Laziel back to the surface.
Intense light filled the room, and she readied herself for the onslaught of change. The light grew brighter and shrouded the angel in a haze of swirling mist that ebbed over her female form. It provided an effective barrier between her and Laziel. Loz bolted upright, eyes wide and shaking with fear. Laziel’s voice screamed in her head as the vision of him falling into a void of perpetual darkness and pain filled her vision. His angry cries for the vampire sleeping beside her were filled with fear, misery and pain. Loz stretched out her arms, envisioning catching the masculine form, but the glow of celestial light that surrounded her tore them apart.
Panic stricken, Loz flew from the bed and poured all of her energy into bringing Laziel back into his rightful form. Sweat drenched and panting, Loz visibly shook from her efforts but to avail. Pain blossomed inside her again and she whimpered against such an unfamiliar touch. The ache in her heart grew; it personified Laziel’s need to be free. He was still there, lost to the feminine form, but not to her mind and heart.
Why? Why couldn’t she change? As the ache in her heart became intolerable, Loz focused her sights on Lachi’s sleeping form. There would be no appeasing him, no satiating his hunger for pain and release. Laziel was lost, struggling to fight the inner imprisonment of its masculine form. Lachi would never understand.
Tears dropped to litter the floor in rubies, she never wanted this. Laziel had to come back, had to…
A pulse of energy stopped the angel dead in her tracks. Her hands instinctively drifted to the point where it thrummed. Her knees went weak, and the ground shifted beneath her when another soft thrum started a gentle tattoo from the succor of her womb.
“Laziel?” She whispered questioningly as her long slender fingers stroked over her midriff. The gentle beat sent butterflies drifting through Loz. Her eyes shimmered as the dawning occurred. Laziel couldn’t come back, couldn’t take his male form, because to do so would destroy what had been created between the angel and the vampire. Life, irrevocable and undeniably unique had been created between the two of them. Shock turned to elation, and Loz reached out to wake the sleeping King.
Laziel,” Lachi murmured in his sleep.
Loz stood and stared down upon the male they both loved with all their heart. “I have loved you many lifetimes, Malachi Azarian Denali. I wish I could bring back your male, but your seed now grows inside of me, a life that’s part of you and Laziel. I’m sorry you will never understand the depth of what his love means.”
Loz laid a single kiss to the vampire’s lips and closed her eyes against the fall of tears. He’d never be able to face this form every day; he’ll think you’ve tricked him. It’s better this way. The angel rebuked herself. There was no time for a mental pity party. She’d deal with Lachi and what was to come, but first she needed to leave. Let the vampire’s witness their King had intentions of being mated.
She needed time alone, the boudoir, an apartment, anywhere, just somewhere quiet and away from his scent. Even as dawn approached, she yearned to touch him, kiss him, and love him. Laziel was returned, stunned but resigned. The male’s ache for his vampire was unrelenting; an intolerable cruelty that Loz would have to bear until the fruit of their creation joined them together once more. Loz dressed quickly desperate for time alone before having to explain to Lachi why Laziel couldn’t reform. Distance would help her think of the best way to explain it.
Maybe he’d understand. Maybe Lachi would be content to have her there as a decoy. They could be mated, in view of the whole Elder’s court in a lavish ceremony. And, maybe he’ll lock your ass away for the duration until he has Laziel back as his whipping boy.
“Creator help me, please. Tell me what to do for him.” Loz voiced before she looked back at the stunning form of the vampire. She clicked the door shut, separating herself from the vampire they loved. Loz played the part, making sure Saul and the rest of the guards were all on duty. “Protect him with your life, Saul.”
She gave none of her usual banter as she made her way down through the enclave, past the Elder’s court and through the small gathering of younger vampires heading inside and out of sight from dawn’s burning call.
Lost to her thoughts, she paid no heed to the driver or the limousine. A sudden blast of pain exploded in her head and she knew she was in deep shit. Unable to change without losing the life growing inside her and trapped in the guise of the King’s courtesan, she was in a no win situation of deplorable depths. Change and lose your young while alerting the Elders that their King leads a treasonous life. Or, stay as you are, keep Lachi an
d your unborn safe and protect yourself the best way you can from your captor’s plans.
“I’ve been waiting such a long time to do that, Ms. Lorenza, or should I call you Loz?” The world went topsy turvy as she was lifted and shoved into the car. Another bolt of pain crashed against her temporal lobe like a sledge hammer. Loz felt the veil of darkness shifting around her, yet she refused to succumb. Not relishing the feel of yet another blow, she faked unconsciousness and slumped against the seat.
“Fucking females, they’re all the same. Weak, despicable creatures. Good for nothing more than hosts for carrying on the bloodlines.”
There was no denying that voice. They should have suspected Darklon’s irrationality had seriously overstepped even the bounds of what the Creator deemed forgivable. And Gabriel, the human had sworn an oath to the pontiff, yet he’d allied himself to Darklon. The bastards were going to pay with their lives, but first she had to survive the abduction. Loz moved slightly and groaned. A fist to her face quickly silenced her. She was scared, terrified that the life now growing inside her would never know the joy of its father’s strong arms.
“Lachi,” she whispered.
“Your blood whore can’t help you now, unless he grows a pair of balls and faces me himself. And, we both know that angel he keeps on his leash won’t let him. So, I thought to myself…what’s the next best thing I could take away from him that would get him where it hurts?” Darklon scoffed.
“Did you know, Darklon has already turned the human male Malachi secretly loved…and now, we have you. The mighty Malachi Denali is going down hard baby.” Gabrielle’s gloating words pierced her heart.
A sharp sting speared the skin of her neck, and this time the darkness that danced in the shadows washed over her senses and dragged her down into her own personal vision of hell. The male he secretly loved…Darklon knew, as did Laziel, there was only one male the King ever showed love for…Vischeral Bourne.
Glad of the silence, and lost to the darkness enveloping her senses, Loz refused to feel the hurt of Gabrielle’s words. It would do her no kindness to dwell on the visions of Lachi’s lost love. All she could hope for was an early escape from the clutches of this maniac. Once free, she’d hide until the birth, and then call on Arial to deliver the newborn to its father. After the birth, Laziel would be free to retake the male form and ascend back to his place alongside the Creator where hopefully one day his heart would find peace from the torturous angst of unrequited love.
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CHAPTER TWENTY
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ANCHORAGE ALASKA
A week after his arrival, Copi sat in his living room, running a hand through tousled hair. He’d been through every fucking case file ad nausam and nothing added up. To top it off, Vischeral fucking Bourne decided to take a mini vacation two nights after his arrival. Bastard. According to the desk jockeys, the mountain of muscle had never vacayed a day, or night, in his whole tenure. So why the fuck go now? The Chief had pitched one hell of a fit, but had been unable to threaten, coerce or beg Bourne back to the station. The separation did little to alleviate the dreams that had only grown worse since he’d spied his new partner at the station.
Every night the bastard stalked his nightmares. The alley, the lust, the fangs, Copi was on a perpetual high and his cock didn’t know the meaning of soft. No amount of jacking off, before bed or after, alleviated his need, and it made him sick in the gut that instead of running from the specter in his dreams, he wanted the bastard to bite him. The vein in his neck throbbed for the feel of those fangs buried deep. Which was crazy, no fucking way Bourne was a vampire. They didn’t exist. It was just his fucked up head playing tricks on his cock. The organ in question twitched, painfully filled and demanding attention.
Another hair plow and Copi glanced left as movement caught his eye. As if conjured from his thoughts, the big motherfucker stood on the deck. Without knocking, he twisted the knob and waltzed into the room. Surreptitiously, he dragged a cushion over his lap to hide the bulge in his track pants, but Bourne barely glanced at him.
“Get dressed. You need another three layers on over the shirt, all terrain boots and a coat. A fucking thick one.”
“What the hell for?” Copi demanded.
“Because I said so,” Vischeral stalked across the room to snag the bottle of Jack sitting on the coffee table. “You should lay off the hooch, it thins the blood.”
“Fuck you,” Copi spat and shoved to his feet ready for an all out brawl to settle the tension between them. His partner ignored his aggression, and with a swirl of his long leather coat, he spun away and carried the bottle into the kitchen.
“I really don’t give a fuck if you freeze your ugly ass off, but we’re meeting the WST in a little over an hour, and it’s going to get really fucking cold as the night lengthens,” Bourne snarled.
The insult rubbed him all kinds of the wrong way. Copi made his way to the bedroom and snapped back at his new partner. “If my ass is ugly, motherfucker, then your face is its God damned twin.” Throwing open one of the still unpacked suitcases, he picked out thermals, added some socks, a long sleeved T...shirt and a sweater. He glanced down at the pants he wore and knew instinctively that they were inadequate as were the jeans in his luggage. None of them were good insulators against the cold. Smirking, Copi doubted it would help his cause that he always went commando. Wonder what his partner would think of that? Copi immediately shoved the thought away. Why the hell would Bourne be interested in his choice, or lack thereof, of undergarments?
Furious with himself, Copi snatched the loose fitting cotton down over his hips. Whether it was from the intensity of the night’s dream featuring his new partner, or the cool air that swept over him sending shivers up his spine, Copi moaned. His thick, heavy cock presented itself in a full on standing ovation. He’d sported the constant hard on since meeting one Vischeral Bourne.
Deep breathes in and out. Copi tried to calm himself and lessen the swollen ache in his loins. He focused, trying to make out the aroma snaking into his room and coating his skin. It filled the air around him in a cloud of richly spiced vanilla… all warm and woodsy. Sighing, he remembered where he’d first smelled the same erotic scent. Copi refused to let it, or the person exuding it put him off his stride. With no time to sort out the mess his body was in, he prayed the black combats and various other layers would hide his predicament over the man in the next room. Fully dressed, he took a deep breath and exited the bedroom.
Back out where Vischeral paced across the floor, Copi detected the same scent growing denser, more concentrated almost, and his partner seemed pissed…really pissed. Not wanting or needing to know what was with the big brooding hulk, Copi headed straight out of the front door and waited on the porch. When his partner appeared beside him, he locked up and headed for the vehicle parked in his driveway. He assumed the massive hunk of metal was his partner’s car. It certainly fit. The glossy black Hummer H2 was a fine work of art and Copi whistled in appreciation at the 6.0...litre, V8 under the hood. A real classy set of wheels. He stroked his fingertips over the paint job, admiring its body like it was a goddess. He stopped and rolled his eyes when Bourne blocked his path.
“Of course, you’re driving.” His partner merely grunted and handed him a slip of paper, an issue note.
Copi grinned as he read the note from their Chief. It informed him the Hummer should have been at the airport on his arrival. But whatever, Copi damn near barreled into the big fucker to get to the driver’s door and climb inside. He admired the leather interior and inhaled the new car scent while his partner ass planted on the passenger side.
“So, Mr. Doom and Gloom, where to? And how the fuck do we get there?” He received an eloquent ‘fuck you’ stare as Bourne punched coordinates into the Sat...Nav. Before sitting back in the seat, he cranked up the stereo until the whole SUV shook while Marilyn Manson screamed about beautiful people. It was only when they hit the Glen highway, and Copi floored the gas that
Vischeral actually seemed to relax. Thinking it was time to find out his partner’s take on the bodies that had been found; Copi asked the questions he’d previously jotted down about the crime scenes.
“Why do you think there is such a lack of intel on the bite marks? And, if whatever did this isn’t on the database up here, then could it mean the vics were killed elsewhere, making this a stop and drop?” Vischeral remained silent so Copi carried on, “The Chief stated there were ten presumed murders, but only two of the bodies have ever been found, how the hell has this been allowed to go on for so long without the feds being called in?”
He didn’t have a clue if his tone was off or his questions were of the wrong nature, but he knew one thing for sure. As soon as he had started to ask questions, his partner went all on the defensive. Big shoulders tensed, lips firmed.
“When we get to the meeting point, the WST will brief us as on any new intel gained from their forensics. They’re trying to keep this under wraps and in house to avoid mass hysteria. They’ve been working around the clock despite the cold and the dark. I hope that meets with your God damn approval.” After his tirade, Vischeral sat and glared through the windshield as though warring with an inner demon. Fuckin’ hell! Copi writhed in his seat trying to focus on the screeching coming from the stereo.
Vischeral’s proximity within the confines of the Hummer didn’t do much for Copi’s train of thought. His eyes kept shifting to the long thickly muscled thighs of his partner’s leather clad legs which in turn had his whole body running on hot. He gripped the steering wheel hard and fought to keep from veering off the icy road and getting them both killed. Sweet Lord above what the fuck was wrong with him? Ever since his first meeting with Bourne, a weird sense of foreboding loomed over him like the proverbial dark cloud of a pending storm. It brewed in the very air around them. Fuck! Even with the window cracked, Copi felt the denseness of the air around them. It hovered charged and full of static electricity which seemed to originate from Mr. Dark and Deadly like a God damn tidal wave.