Crimson Ties Read online

  “You forget how to knock, Fallen?” Malachi withdrew behind the façade of his kingly persona. He surged to his feet and clasped his hands behind his back, his face expressionless. The former angel wasn’t fooled. He was far too astute to have missed Malachi’s emotional lapse, and that didn’t sit well with him. Malachi held his ground in front of the altar and arched a brow in question when the male remained silent. “I asked you a question, Arial.”

  “Ah, the kingly tone. Is this where I prostrate myself and kiss your ring?” The bite in Arial’s tone actually alleviated some of the tension banding Malachi’s shoulders. His big body relaxed a degree or two. What was it with angels and smart mouths?

  “Don’t know about the ring, but you can kiss my ass.” Malachi ground out, drawing a rare grin from the other male.

  “No thank you, my wings may be ragged and torn, but at least I still have them. I touch you and Laziel will tear me apart a feather and a bone at a time.” Arial glanced around the small chapel, obviously looking for the other angel.

  At the mention of Laziel’s name, any speck of levity fled altogether. “He’s gone.” Malachi watched Arial closely as he spoke. The surprise on the celestial’s face was genuine. It made him doubt his first assessment, but only slightly. Only one person wanted him off the throne so adamantly that he’d resort to abducting the king’s consort without fear of reprisal. Darklon, Elder of the Court and Malachi’s nemesis. The vampire craved Malachi’s title and had conspired with the vampire race’s deadliest enemy, the Nephilim, to obtain what he wanted.

  “His disappearance is not the problem at the moment.” And what a fucked up lie that was. “Loz has been abducted.” Again, Arial’s face only registered surprise. It confirmed that Darklon still wasn’t confiding completely in the male. His arms dropped to his sides. “They’ve demanded I abdicate.”

  “You think it’s Darklon?” Arial asked.

  “Right in one. No other would dare, not in my own enclave.” Malachi spun back to rest his fists against the altar and leaned his weight against the cool surface. “The fact he hasn’t confided in you about the abduction means he still doesn’t trust you. You have to make sure he does, and Arial, your mission just became more urgent. Find out where the bastard is holding the…is holding Loz.”

  Malachi inhaled and exhaled slowly. “I’ve seen Darklon’s work. He puts my sadistic tendencies to shame. He’ll take her apart piece by piece with each unmet demand. We have to find her before they kill her.” The Fallen nodded. “One more thing, don’t attempt to rescue her, it would only blow your cover. Contact me immediately.”

  A frown marred Arial’s rugged face. “If that is your wish.”

  The need for blood and death once again reared its ugly head. Malachi didn’t blink when everything went red and the glow of his eyes pierced the darkness. “It is. The fucker is mine for daring to touch what belongs to me. Be careful as you search, Arial. Darklon is dangerous and he won’t hesitate to kill you.”

  Arial’s face darkened. “I know. I’ve seen the after effects of his depravity.” Malachi nodded once and watched as the Fallen strode out through the hidden entrance. Alone again, he glared at the crucifix hanging over the altar.

  “If it is truly your desire to see me on the throne, you better keep Laziel safe. If harm comes to him, none in this life or the next will be safe from my wrath. I will bring the entire world and your Heaven down around my feet.” Malachi spun on a booted heel and exited the chapel.

  ~*~*~*~

  Arial’s steps faltered as he moved back from the vampire king and made his way toward the underground tunnel leading away from Laziel’s private chapel. A sense of foreboding hovered in the air around him. Something was seriously amiss. The devastation of the enclave above, Laziel’s absence from Malachi’s side, the King’s abhorrent mood; all of it tangled together to form a puzzle he failed to understand. Arial’s senses were at full alert, and for some unknown reason, he found it increasingly harder to walk away from the vampire king.

  Wavering undecided just outside the stone door, Arial listened unashamedly. His eyes peeled wide at the utter sense of grief leeching from the usually stoic vampire monarch as he threatened blatant damnation upon the worlds above. The vehement declaration hung in the air, held there by the avid ferocity of truly heart spoken words.

  Was Laziel in danger? Was he on a quest for the Creator? Did the King know where the celestial was, or had he been called away without Malachi’s knowledge? A slither of icy dread worked its way through the torn, ravaged wings hanging from his back. Arial, for the first time in many a dark age, shivered from the threat of impending doom.

  When Laziel’s chapel stood empty, Arial eased from the shadows and stood in the eerie chill Malachi’s presence left behind. He inhaled, allowing the aroma of the vampire’s scent to permeate his skin. He cursed. Fuck, he really hadn’t imagined it.

  Moments before when standing inside the chapel, he would’ve sworn in front of the Creator himself he’d sensed another of their kind. He followed the faint trail back into the small room and walked to the altar where Malachi had stood. As a Fallen, there wasn't much he hadn’t witnessed in all of his time on Earth and in Hell. Atrocities, war and an endless hoard of faceless demons he’d sucked dry due to his curse were all par for his course. But, one thing he never forgot was the overwhelming scent left by that of a celestial. Seraphim, in particular, had their own individual scent, and Arial recognized Laziel's the instant he walked into Malachi's quarters.

  The heady aroma of male Seraphim was as addictive to angels as it was to humans…thus the Fallen and their offspring, the Nephilim. And apparently, vampires weren’t immune either. But, what Arial couldn't fathom was the other fragrance wrapping its way around the vampire’s flesh. It overrode even Laziel’s intoxicating scent. Silently, Arial dragged a rasping breath into his lungs. He tasted the scent on the back of his throat. The moment the flavorful aroma coated his tongue, warning bells rang within the Fallen’s mind.

  His eyes turned molten with infuriated disdain as he drew in another raging breath. Fucking female? He knew the king used one to keep the Elders from pulling his chain over the heir sitch, but what Arial smelled was another celestial…of Seraphim lineage. And, to make matters worse, the scent blossomed with the unadulterated purity of female celestial pheromones. “Fuck!”

  Confusion and rage flooded his veins. Laziel was said to be the last, the only one of his kind, so how could this be? Was it an imposter, a Fallen or a Nephilim powerful enough to clone a Seraphim’s scent? But how could she fool the vampire monarch?

  And, what of Loz? Malachi had been with the female right before her abduction. He would have sensed something different with her. The King had known his female consort for centuries, conspired with her to fool the Elders of his race. So, it made little sense that another female…a celestial Seraphim’s scent…covered the King like a pheromone coat.

  It marked him in the angels’ way, as a pure and abundantly loved soul. Arial knew intimately the force that powered an angel’s love. Nothing on mortal Earth replicated the scent that such adoration left behind. Unexpectedly, he recalled the one time his own scent flared to quell the stench of Hell. He clutched his chest at the sudden ache in his heart as a face crossed his mind’s eye. He cursed and slammed the shields back into place. He was so not going down that road.

  Malachi’s question rang in the silence of his mind. Where was Laziel? Long ago, the mighty Seraphim were the most powerful of all of Heaven’s angels. They fought the war between Heaven and Hell, and sadly, the Heavenly Host watched them fall until only one remained. Cloaked in the ashes of Hell’s battlefield, Laziel had walked through the fires and gore carrying the ashes of his race. On that day, he took his place at the right hand of the Creator where he remained. Until Malachi.

  But, where was he now? Who was the other Seraphim? Did Laz know she existed? And if so, was her appearance the reason he’d left? Taking a step back from the altar, Arial sat upon
the closest pew and stared at the inscription upon Laziel’s private shrine. The words depicted the creation of Malachi’s life. They were engrained within the black ornate stone, written in a language known only to the Heavens.

  “Laziel,” Arial breathed. His heart ached. “What has become of you my brother?” Arial knew he wouldn’t be answered, didn’t expect to be. If Laziel wasn’t communicating with Malachi, none except the Creator had a chance of reaching him. He bowed his head and offered a prayer for his brother and for the vampire king so obviously lost without his angel.

  Moments later, he left the small chapel. Quietly, he made his way down the deserted corridor to where the doors of Malachi’s private quarters lay shattered outward in lethal splinters of solid oak. Cracks ran up and along the walls blasted there by the force of the king’s explosion of fury.

  “What a clusterfuck,” Arial murmured to himself as he stepped through the opening. If Darklon heard of the destruction, if he knew the King was vulnerable, he would use it against him. Malachi was not to be over thrown…not by him…not because of a missing female. He stopped his internal monologue as a guard approached. Saul, Laziel’s first in command and the most elite and loyal of the vampire guards, held out his hand. Arial immediately noticed the slight tremor that ran through the guard’s pale flesh.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Arial grasped Saul’s hand with both of his and drew the guard toward him. Arial sifted through the male’s topmost thoughts while Saul navigated the rubble. He stopped before Arial and dropped his hand. By the time he looked up into Arial’s solemn face, the Fallen was satisfied. “You are an honorable male, Saul. I can see why Laziel puts his trust in you.” Arial motioned the guard in through what was left of Malachi’s door.

  “We need to get these back up again. Laziel will have all of our heads if he returns to find the King isn’t protected,” Arial said as they walked through the royal quarters.

  “Already started the repairs,” Saul answered. “They’ve gone to get the supplies and will have the doors re-hung before daybreak.” Saul veered to the left and entered a room where the king’s private security monitors waited. “Malachi ordered me to watch the videos. You want to join me?”

  “Yes,” Arial answered. “I was going to ask if I could view Loz’s movements through the enclave prior to her abduction. Two sets of eyes will be better than one.” Arial sat where Saul directed and watched the screen alongside him. As soon as the footage started to play, Arial’s senses reached fever pitch. There was no mistaking Loz as she exited the King’s quarters. But, Arial found it strange the female appeared to be straightening her clothes; an odd fact considering what he knew of the King’s sexual preferences. The female was supposed to be a decoy.

  He leaned forward to punch a button. The screen zoomed in on Loz’s face. Shock and confusion marred the female’s face. Tears tracked down her cheeks. She seemed distracted and a little bit disoriented. Her hand went to her abdomen as she turned back and touched the door between herself and the King.

  “What the fuck?” Arial mentally cursed. “No way! No way in fucking hell Malachi had sex with someone other than his angel? It wasn’t conceivable, not with Loz, not with any female.” Arial’s mind reeled from the factual evidence playing in front of him.

  “Shit, shit, shit!” His voice boomed. Saul shot him a wary look as he rewound the tape.

  “Look closely as she enters the open area of the enclave and turns toward the garage. Watch the wall opposite,” Saul instructed when Arial turned his gaze back to the screen. He watched as Saul clicked play; his eyes widened to take in the whole picture running before him. “There, see.” Saul pointed to the screen.

  “Fuckin’ hell!” Arial blasted and rammed his fist hard against the desk. On the screen just as Loz passed through to the Court, a shadow lurked. Based on the direction from which it lengthened and grew, the perpetrator must have hidden below Miss Stroner’s desk. It moved slowly, creeping up on Loz, inching along the far wall and avoiding the camera. The view switched to the garage, and the abductor struck just as the driver opened the door for Loz. The assailant took the distracted female completely unaware. They watched as she fell, her body crumbling into the shadow’s arms.

  For a moment, it looked like her attacker stumbled; caught unaware by her weight. He lurched back into the light, and the camera caught the back of a floor length robe or coat. Saul stood and leaned in toward the screen. A low growl vibrated the air, and Arial stood to place a hand to Saul’s broad back. “What is it? What are you seeing?”

  Arial focused on the screen as Saul replayed the attack again. “Where are the guards? They are only to leave their posts on direct orders from Laziel himself. Not even I can change their rotations. Their schedules are set and rarely ever changed.”

  The imaged morphed. “And watch…see how the shadow moves. It’s slow; as if he thinks creeping up on his victim with a surprise attack will work. Miss Loz is a vampire. Why would another vampire think a slow approach would work especially after her confrontation with Darklon at the ball? Unless of course, it’s not a vamp.” Saul resumed his seat.

  “Watch again as the culprit stumbles back. No vampire would be so easily knocked off balance. This isn’t one of our race. What we have here is a human in the enclave. The question is how in the hell did that happen?” Saul turned a feral glare to Arial.

  “There are only two ways into the enclave. One is through the enclave itself and the other is through the pontiff’s private door. Both are heavily guarded. There are two sets of guards at each entry door and then another two stationed at intervals throughout the enclave. Why didn’t they pick up on a human scent?” Saul’s fist slammed down on the desk. “These are my guards; there is no way they’d have left their posts. Excuse me Arial. It looks like I have some ass to kick.” Saul surged up again and exited amid a pervasive cloud of freezing anger. Arial watched him disappear, and then turned his focus back on the screen.

  He shook his head in disbelief as he punched speed dial and connected to the King’s voice mail. He watched the screen avidly while the phone rang. When voice mail kicked on, he left the message they needed to talk. Even as he hung up, he swore he felt the tendrils of Malachi’s fury weaving their way throughout the enclave. He sure as hell didn’t want to enflame it, but he had no choice.

  He’d only ever heard of such ferocity once before. The stories depicting the war between Heaven and Hell were well documented. The one that stood out at the moment revolved around Laziel and his furious battle to evade Lucifer’s evil clutches. Arial shuddered. It seemed the Seraphim had trained his protégé well.

  “Protégé.” The word danced over Arial’s tongue. He remembered a conversation a few weeks earlier; a secret meeting within the small chapel walls. “My creation…the life, and the soul born from the depths of my celestial heart.” Laziel’s words, ones uttered between brothers and a secret Arial vowed to keep. The writing on the altar depicted his creation of the male he loved. So why? Why turn away? And where the hell was this female, whose celestial scent was engrained within the very air the Fallen breathed?

  He had to find Loz; somewhere among all of the chaos, an innocent female needed his help. Allied and loyal to the King, her standing meant certain death if she fell into Darklon’s greedy hands. He had to act quickly; initiate a deeper trust between himself and the corrupted Elder before anything happened to the captured female. If that meant joining him in an act of downright depravity, then he’d take that necessary step to ensure the safety of Laziel and the King. He was Fallen after all, not like his soul was in danger.

  Arial stood and leaned in to turn off the monitor as Loz laid her hand and forehead upon the door that separated her and the King. Arial’s breath froze in his lungs, and his heart constricted. The image was a quick flash, one only another celestial could possibly see. But, it was there; just as Loz’s hand rested against the door. Arial paused the film as the shadow of wings, six motherfucking wings, flickered o
ver the surface of Loz’s slender back. Arial sat completely stunned by what he saw.

  He rewound and watched again to make sure he wasn’t losing his ever loving mind. But, with every re-play, the wings seemed to become more and more defined. How had he not known? Why hadn’t he sensed Loz was celestial not vampire? How in the fuck had she managed to cloak who and what she was long enough to fool not only Arial but Laziel and the king? Was her power so immense she’d been able to fool all of those close to her? “Damn it to hell, Laziel, where the fuck are you?” Arial knew no other could be allowed to see the footage.

  The chance of Darklon encroaching on Malachi’s subconscious while Laziel was gone was too great a risk. Six wings would cause all-out war between the factions. Without hesitation, Arial deleted the footage and any backups he found on the computer. Resolute in his decision, he made his way out of Malachi’s chambers, and then circled around and detoured through the pontiff’s private entry. The guards Saul had spoken of earlier stood at attention and demanded his name and point of business. Satisfied with his responses, they let him pass.

  As he strode through the lower chambers of the Vatican proper, he surmised the Pope would be his first port of call. If it was indeed a human responsible for taking Loz, they had to have entered the enclave through the very door he’d just used. Only one person apart from the Pope knew of the door’s existence, the bastard Gabriel.

  He needed an audience with the Pope’s personal assistant, and the Creator help him if he had turned against the church and allied himself to the likes of Darklon. Did the bastard have delusions of becoming vampire? Did he believe Darklon would honor any promise made to a human? Arial grunted as he found the stairs leading upward. Poor fucker had made a terrible choice and failed to realize his death warrant was already sealed.