Bloodfire Awakening Page 3

  The guy instantly pulled away from him with a self-satisfied smirk.

  Looking away to see where his lean and agile male had gotten off to, Raph saw the gorgeous other-worlder sprint through the archway leading from the Tiki Lounge down the hall to the door that led into Kensington Falls.

  As Raph’s powers fired up, several different visions of paths leading toward different futures raced through his head. I’ve never seen so many possibilities! His mind had never been able to see more than one or two steps ahead into the future. And rarely did he see his own future.

  “Raph!” he heard someone shout. “Kiz is here illegally. Don’t let him go outside. There are guardians out there!”

  The news caused Raph’s chest to tighten. Locking on a future outcome he liked, he jumped into action, his powers telling him where he needed to go for his only chance at saving Kiz.

  And first, he had to suck up his pride and sign his name—and possibly his soul—over to Othiah.

  * * * *

  Kiz ran from the building, tears hot on his cheeks.

  The pain, horror, and absolute shame ate at him, making him feel inches tall.

  Once away from the bar he ran down an alley and collapsed, mentally and physically zapped. The cold concrete dug into his knees, making him cry out at the sensation of his flesh feeling like it’d been cheese grated to the bone.

  “Looky, looky what we got here.”

  Kiz’s head snapped around at the voice, his self-inflicted torture forgotten. Staring up the alley, Kiz saw a towering man he knew instantly to be a guardian.

  Panicking, he tried to even his breaths, reminding himself he’d wanted to be found by a guardian. Or maybe he’s a shadow assassin. The former being the equivalent of a cop while the latter was cop, juror, and—when the need arose—executioner.

  Whatever rank the man may be, Kiz hoped he would soon be out of his misery.

  Lying back on the cold ground, he welcomed the stranger to do his job. He didn’t see the point in living anymore. Finding his mate cozied up with his brother—who had not been wearing the atrocious white robe like they’d planned—had broken Kiz’s heart.

  Kiz sobbed. He knew it wasn’t about the dress. He had known deeply that Koro wouldn’t commit. But he always fought to think better of others. That they were capable of change. Now all Kiz knew was that that ideation was idiotic and naïve. He was a moron for believing others were capable of change. Especially his brother.

  If Kiz had just gone with his gut feeling and worn something more appropriate…like the polo shirt and skinny jeans he’d bought online in hopes of wearing them somewhere other than his room.

  I want to die! he screamed in his head. He’d finally found the being that would match him in every way, and he’d been cozied up against the very person who detested Kiz the most. Koro missed Tibu and blamed Kiz for losing everything he knew and loved about their home-world.

  “What are you doing?” the guardian said, his tone genuinely confused.

  Weeping, Kiz said, “I no wanna to live no more. Peas, kill me.”

  “Peas?” the guy said confusedly. “Aw, come on, big guy. Life isn’t that bad.”

  Kiz was confused by the fact a guardian was trying to talk him back into living when it was his job to apprehend rogues like Kiz.

  “Make me die. Do it…please.” So I won’t feel any more pain.

  “He will not dare touch you.”

  At the molasses-rich voice, Kiz cracked his eyelids to stare up, shockingly finding his mate leaning over him, appearing almost…fearful. But under the man’s expression, Kiz found the sexy earthling once more in the flesh brought a whole new wave of sadness crashing over him.

  He cried out, placing his hands over his face. “Go way. I try to suicide myself.”

  Kiz felt a chill in his bones at the shocking silence that left him nauseous.

  He jerked in shock when he felt the earthman grab his arm and drag him to his feet with surprising strength.

  His mate cursed under his breath. “Damn, you’re tall.”

  Kiz ripped from the male’s grip to walk toward the guardian. He bowed his head in submission. “I like…” He thought hard, not remembering the words. “—to, um…killer?” Tears spilt as the words came to him in a rush. “I want die. Peas kill me.”

  “No!” his mate shouted so loud Kiz felt his back teeth vibrate from the force of the words. The echo of the command reverberated off the brick walls that blocked his escape.

  Hands once again grabbed a hold of his arms, this time to turn Kiz around to face his shorter mate. Then in a voice that sounded wounded with an underlying hint of shame, the man told him, “You will not talk of committing suicide. You must live.”

  “Why? You no want me,” Kiz said, pulling away to lean up against a wall. “You with mine brother! He never touch man, but yous touch being big—”

  “Hold up,” his mate said with his hands up in the air for surrender. “Your English is a little scrambled.” Kiz looked away in shame. “Look, can we start over? I am Raphael. You are?”

  Kiz was slightly confused as he took Raphael’s palm into his and said, “Kizia Emeral. B-but I goes by Kiz.”

  “All right, Kiz,” Raphael said, his slightly smaller palm still fastened to Kiz’s. “Why do you want to kill yourself?”

  Kiz frowned and wrenched himself from the breathtaking earthling’s clutch. “I say to you already. You want brother—no me.”

  “Jeez,” a voice said from the open end of the alley.

  Kiz turned to see a small man dressed head to toe in black, standing beside the guardian. Kiz looked down at himself, mortified.

  Behind the oddly dressed man were others. One of which was Otho, who held a piece of paper over his lower half while the rest of his naked body practically glowed in the darkness.

  “What a drama queen,” the goth sneered as he folded his arms loosely and cocked his hip dramatically.

  “Shut your trap, Kippy,” Raphael shouted, but his eyes still focusing solely on Kiz.

  Kippy didn’t seem to care about Raphael’s command. “Fuck you, Raph!”

  “Will you all leave?” Raphael finally turned to look away at the crowd. “I’m trying to have a conversation.”

  Kiz felt his body heat when the gathering mumbled in compliance and dispersed.

  “Why do not the guardian kill me?” Kiz asked, amazed.

  “I granted you amnesty.”

  Kiz cocked his head. He had no clue what the word meant, and he didn’t want to admit his ignorance.

  When Kiz didn’t reply, Raphael said, “It means you are pardoned. You can leave Hell’s Mouth and do whatever you wish.”

  When the words registered in his head, Kiz feared his mate was lying to him. He wasn’t a species that could smell when the body put off scents when someone lies. He was essentially like the humans on the planet he hid amongst. The only ability his kind had that homo sapiens did not was the ability to identify their mates by scent.

  And the earthling before him, though strangely attired in black leather with silver zippers trimmed with crimson thread, was his mate. Eyeing Raphael’s clothing made Kiz a little more at ease. The outfit said I don’t care what others think. The notion comforted him.

  To Kiz, Raphael seemed to be the definition of confident.

  Would they mesh as mates? Did he even know they were mates? Were they—what did the Abyss Realm call it?—viscers! The term could be interpreted many ways, but the main translations were “heart” and “entrails.” While morbid, the Abyss Realm viewed soulmates as best friends and lifelong companions. Which was a lot better than Kiz’s planet.

  Men on Tibu reigned supreme. So their female mates were seen as nothing more than baby machines. Sure, the women needed to be protected, because if they died then there was a ninety-five percent chance the male would go insane. It went the same way for females. The Earth Realm called the state of mindlessness Nephilim—a state of mind that makes one feast on others indiscrimi
nately like zombies.

  Hurt washed over Kiz as he recalled Koro in Raphael’s arms as he asked, “How you grant me free?”

  In the dim light from the street lamps, Kiz could make out the earthling’s smile of pride. “I am a member of the Isherai council.”

  Kiz’s breath caught in disbelief at hearing his mate was a member of the council that ruled the Abyss Realm.

  Cocking his head, Kiz asked, “What…you are?”

  “What am I?” Raphael squared his shoulders. “In simplest form, an angel…or at least once upon a time.”

  “What that mean?”

  “It means I fell.”

  Kiz frowned, unsure of what Raphael meant. “Well,” he began, “if you fall, how that mean you no more angel? I fall ‘fore, but I still Tibutanian.”

  Raphael grew silent for a moment before he gave a small chuckle. “No, not fell as in I fell off a cliff. But fell as in fell from grace.”

  Kiz felt his cheeks heat and was thankful for the semi-dark. “Oh. I get. I apologize, Mr. Raphael.”

  “No,” he said, making Kiz retreat further into himself. “My name is just Raphael. Or Raph if you prefer. No mister before it.”

  “But—” Kiz cut himself off from arguing. He should not debate with someone of higher status.

  When Kiz failed to continue, Raphael prompted, “Yes?”

  “I…” Kiz began, looking down at his feet. “I should no argue against you.”

  “Why?”

  “Um, well, yous, I think, my elder, and you…higher on clatter.” He frowned with a shake of his head. “I mean, uh, ladder.” He puffed out an amused breath.

  Sensing there was more, Raphael asked, “What else?”

  Kiz gulped as he enunciated each word. “You-are-my-mate. You feel too, yes?”

  Raphael was quiet for a moment. Enough time passed for Kiz to know Raphael was trying to come up with the words to reject him. He hoped Raphael’s refusal would at least be civil.

  “How do you know?” the fallen angel asked, surprising him.

  Kiz swallowed the lump in his throat and replied, “Scent.”

  “That’s it?”

  Kiz recoiled at the nasty tone Raphael used. “Is not that all I need?”

  Raphael rubbed his hand over his head, uncaringly messing up his hair. “Dammit,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “How you mean it?” Kiz asked so quietly he hardly heard himself.

  “Look, I don’t believe in fated matings. I can’t smell what you smell, and at the moment I can’t see the future or get a reading off you whatsoever. So how am I supposed to know you are telling the truth?”

  Raphael was talking too fast, but Kiz got the gist, and he was horrified. “Why lie?” he said, somehow managing to hold back his tears. “Why anyone lie ’bout ’som’ting so serious?”

  “It’s not you, Kiz. I just don’t believe that out of everyone in the whole universe, you and I were singled out to complement each other in almost every way imaginable.”

  Raphael’s words were so crisp and—strangely—hypnotic, he feared he missed something. Once everything clicked, he wanted to pull out his hair. “But we are!” Kiz shouted, not caring that he was being disrespectful. His mate was an a-s-s, and Kiz didn’t care if Raphael knew he thought so.

  Kiz marveled at the strong emotions coursing through his body. In his gut he felt not only anger, but terror. He could already feel his insides turn to putty at his proximity to Raphael.

  After a long pause, Raphael asked, “How does the mating process work for your species?”

  To simplify things, he said curtly, “Like life-binding ceremonies on here planet.”

  Those who chose to mate each other bound their life forces together with a request. To become properly bonded the request had to be fulfilled. The only drawback was if the askee refused to bond, then they would never again be able to bond with another. Kiz’s species worked similarly. There was only one difference—

  He cut the thought off when Raphael asked, “What’ll happen to you if I choose not to bond with you?”

  Kiz gulped as he crossed his fingers behind his back. “Nothing?”

  Raphael’s body tensed, his shoulders becoming squarer. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

  Kiz chanced a look up and admitted openly, “Now we meet, I go into, uh, heat-heat…” He trailed off as he closed his eyes, trying to find the words. “Mating heat!”

  Raphael was silent for a few minutes. It was enough time for Kiz to rethink his whole life.

  Then the fallen angel said softly, “Will it hurt you?”

  “Uh?” The words confused Kiz. “I don’t kn-ow,” Kiz croaked. “All I know is it make me not like me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I…do anything to lay on bed with you…”

  When silence dragged out between them, Kiz pushed off the wall and slipped past Raphael.

  He was almost to the mouth of the alley when Raphael asked, “Where are you going, Kiz? We’re not done talking.”

  “I’ll am!” he said louder than he meant.

  When he unexpectedly felt a hand on his shoulder, he let out a gurgled grumble that sounded foreign to his ears.

  Mating lust.

  Embarrassed, he jerked from Raphael’s grasp and ran back toward the bar.

  Once inside, his father stood waiting, looking nervous. When he spotted Kiz, he closed his eyes and appeared to take a deep breath before focusing back on Kiz. In Tibutani he greeted, “Good evening, son.”

  Kiz ran straight into his father’s arms, doing his best to not cry.

  “Kizia?” his father questioned. “What is wrong?”

  Not wanting to worry his dad, he said in English to hopefully improve both of their accuracies, “I fine. I have been granted am-nes-ty.”

  “That what?” he asked in broken English worse than Kiz’s.

  “It mean I go outside and no get in trouble.”

  It took a moment for the words to process in his father’s head. But when they did, he donned a radiant smile. “I happy you!”

  Hugging his father again, Kiz excused himself and headed toward his room.

  His body felt like it was on fire. He swore he could feel his blood pumping through his veins roaring south. His head felt like an inflated balloon as his cock grew hard.

  He wanted desperately to track down Raphael and coerce the fallen angel to bond with him…

  Once inside his private room, he finally let his tears come. The shame that followed only made it worse.

  * * * *

  Koro sat at a table in the Htrae side of the bar, happy as a clam. His plan had gone beautifully. But he did somewhat feel guilty about Kiz. The drugs running through his veins lessened it as it began to spread through his limbs. From Tibutanian to Gumby.

  “Mmm,” he hummed as his heart began to pump quicker.

  “Korozia.” At his father’s voice, he turned and puffed out a bored breath at the pleased expression that normally made him want to slap the stupid look off his father’s face.

  In broken English, he said, “Kiz outside go now.”

  Not connecting the words, he had to ask, “What?”

  “Kiz now outside okay.”

  Koro tilted his head at the asinine comment. His father most likely didn’t even know what he was saying. Kiz is allowed to go outside? Ha!

  “Excuse me?”

  At the voice of the patron saint that’d rejected Koro, he wanted to get up and walk away. But his feet suddenly felt like they’d been turned to led.

  “Yes?” his father said, smiling down at the much shorter male.

  “Are you Kiz’s father?”

  “Hmm?” he said, no doubt trying to wonder what the earthling had said. “Kiz? Father…? Yes! Me father for Kiz! You let Kizia outside?”

  Koro held his breath at the patron saint’s reply. “Yes.”

  Koro’s mind went blank, but the drugs made him not really care. Did I just really hea
r that?

  “T’ank you,” his father beamed. “I Yath.” He stuck out his hand.

  “Raph,” the male introduced himself as they shook hands—his dad bowing several times.

  “You get wish!” his father bubbled, making Koro’s mouth fall open in disbelief.

  The earthman looked confused as he said, “I don’t understand.” Then under his breath, the guy said, “Stupid powers.”

  When his father looked at Koro expectantly, Koro was too stunned to answer. That was until his father slammed his fist on the table and said, “Help me!”

  Glaring up at his father, Koro bit out, “What he’s trying to say is you get a request.”

  When the patron saint didn’t say anything, Koro clarified, “On our planet for one good deed it must be repaid in kind. My father is saying you get to now request something of my brother.”

  The male didn’t even hesitate as he said, “Tell him I’d like to take Kiz to dinner.”

  Koro snorted. The man got to request anything he wanted from Kiz and he chose to eat with him?

  Lame!

  Feeling returning to his legs, Koro stood and stumbled away from them, not even bothering to help his father through the rest of the conversation.

  “Korozia!” his father yelled.

  Knowing his dad would follow him and bitch him out, he glanced over his shoulder and said in Tibutani, “He wants to take Kiz to dinner.”

  Walking in jerking moments, he clenched his knuckles and jaw, ready to beat the shit out of someone.

  At the bar, he sat on a stool and thrummed his fingers on the smoothed, chilled bar surface.

  “Hey.”

  At the unfamiliar voice, Koro lulled his head to the side, spying a yellow-eyed man. He must be a hellhound—the signature of an unmated hell-dog.

  “Hey,” Koro slurred. Eyeing the guy suspiciously, he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise when he spied the tattoo on the man’s forearm propped on the bar. The stranger seemed to turn his arm as if displaying it proudly. It was a red horse with a man upon it, holding a sword upwards, ready for battle.

  He’s not just a hellhound. Koro had read many bibles from various religions throughout the universe. The bit about the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse had always been his favorite. He’s a henchman for the nameless War Horseman.