Crimson Reign Read Online Free PDF Page A

man the fuck up and explain.”
    “He was overcome, Sire. The pheromones are rolling off the two of you in crushing waves.” A crimson flush rode up the sentry’s neck and stained his cheeks. “You only have to look to see the evidence.”
    Behind him, Laziel sucked in air and as he tried not to laugh. Malachi’s gaze tracked downward, and with a mild oath, he stood the guard back on his feet and straightened his clothes.
    “Just remember he belongs to me. You ever touch him; I’ll end you where you stand. We clear?” Both vampires nodded vigorously, their relief palpable in the air. Malachi reached behind him for the angel’s hand. The seething anger inside him quieted slightly as Laziel’s fingers twined with his own.
    “You two go on ahead. You know the location. And Lance, no hard feelings.” Laziel buried his face in Malachi’s back, his laughter muffled against the silk shirt. In a rush of air, the sentries disappeared. Malachi knew they would be waiting at the prearranged location for his and Laziel’s arrival. With Darklon in a pissy mood, the angel would have them on a higher alert than usual.
    Though he tried to quell it, the anger Darklon always roused in him swam thickly beneath the surface of his skin. He and Darklon hailed from the same area of Italy, a village in the Monti Prenestini range. When Malachi was a youngster, Darklon paraded through the streets drunk on power. Even then, he’d been an Elder, a trusted advisor to the King Malachi later dethroned. But, the bitter hatred between Malachi and the other male stemmed from another set of circumstances, another soul. A soul Malachi had rescued from Darklon's evil clutches. As evidenced by the display during the Council meeting, Darklon still searched for his underling. His search proved futile. If he ever succeeded in uncovering the truth, there would be a showdown between Elder and King. Malachi prepared every day for just such an encounter.
    Restless and out of sorts, he turned to face his lover. “I can’t wait any longer. I need you.” Understanding dawned in Laziel’s eyes and a desire matching his own shone in the liquid gaze. In the blink of an eye, Malachi disappeared and took form on the street above their sumptuous chambers. Flicking a glance right then left, he set out for the small upscale bordello where he maintained a room in an assumed name. The proprietress, a vampire, knew of his proclivities and kept the room stocked and ready for use at a moment's notice. Malachi paid well for the services.
    Three steps down the block, the angel took form at his side. With anger, lust and hunger riding him hard, Malachi stalked along the deserted streets. The rapid trek did little to lighten his mood. As he did on many occasions, he feared for the angel at his side, feared his savage nature would exceed his control and he would awaken to find Laziel broken and dying from the viciousness of his own black nature.
    “Fucking HELL!” Lachi slammed a fist into the brick wall of the building on his right. He needed a quick fight, even with a human, something to lessen the brutality smothering him. Eyes tracking the shadows, he almost prayed for a Nephilim to appear. Nephilim, begotten children of the Fallen Angels, and bitter enemies of the vampire race. More sanctimonious than even Darklon, they ignored the uneasy truce between the human race and the myriad other races on the planet, especially the vampires. They spread horror stories of the vampires’ torturous behavior and ungodliness in their vile attempts to rid the world of vampires.
    Their parents, the Fallen who were tossed out of Heaven but still retained full possession of their angelic gifts, sought out humans whose hatred of the vampires equaled their own. They bred and the offspring became their warriors. The Nephilim proclaimed themselves protectors from evil, yet greed, lust, and a depraved thirst for power contributed to the further corruption of the nearly angelic beings.