Chapter 18 Lazriel
~Lazriel~
Fucking shithead!
That arrogant piece of filth sorcerer thought he could come at somebody I cared for, thought he could lay hands on Sylas, hurt him, and walk away from that intact?
I’d fucking rip him apart.
I’d punish.
I’d ruin.
I’d bleed him goddamn dry!
As he tried to push off the tree, I body-checked him, driving him back against it with merciless force, hearing bones crack at the brutal impact, and the satisfying sound of his shriek echoing in the air.
It ramped up my bloodlust, which was already at a hell of a heightened state as it was after what I’d walked in on here—him beating the shit out of Sylas.
What the ever-loving fuck?
All I could see was blood-red as I threw my fists, wrenched Rennick to me by his shoulders and slammed him back against the tree over and over, then smashed my knee into his gut.
Blood sprayed, more bones cracked, flesh stripped away.
He flailed and tried to hit me with his magic, but I reacted faster, snapping his wrists in quick succession, then spinning him, fisting my hand in his hair and using it as leverage to crush and grind his fucking pretty boy face into the tree trunk.
“Stop… Lazriel… enough.”
I jolted at the sound of Sylas’ voice.
The plea in it.
The… weakness. It didn’t compute hearing either from him. I didn’t like it, and it was so jarring that it managed to cut into me. Right through the heart of my bloodlust and fury.
I roughly released Rennick, and he slid down the tree and slumped into an unconscious heap on the grass.
And then I spun back to Sylas and burst over to where he was sprawled out a few feet away.
He didn’t look… right.
No. No. No.
It was all wrong.
He was a dark god of wrath and vengeance.
That was what he’d told me Kai Hunter had referred to him as.
That fucking vigilante work of his. While I respected it in theory, in practice he was hurting himself continuing to do it when he was clearly sick.
Gravely ill Cassius had termed it.
And seeing the state of him now… shit, it rang brutally true.
Sylas Morgrave being reduced to this… to being hurt, to being unable to defend himself, to having his mammoth power depleted and compromised… it was extremely unsettling.
I hated this for him.
I hated him hurting.
Hated him flailing.
Not being himself.
“You should have fucking told me,” I gritted out, fighting to keep my anger at this secret of his in check, as I knelt down at his side to examine the damage.
“Told you what?” he croaked.
“You’re sick, Sylas.”
He frowned. “I just overexerted myself and—”
“Spare me the bullshit party line. I know.”
“You can’t. I cloaked the—Cassius… he told you?”
“Ding. Ding. Ding. Yes, you fucking cocksucker.”
His lips quirked, somehow in spite of it all. “You know how I take that as a compliment. And a come-on.”
“Seriously? Right now? When you’re hurt and clearly in pain?”
“Why not?” A laugh burst from him, but it quickly turned into him choking, then wheezing.
“Stop. Just shut the fuck up and let me see to you.”
He moved to argue, because of course he did, but then he jolted and twisted on the ground, crying out.
Frantically, I took him in.
His split cheek courtesy of Rennick’s fucking rings, bruising around his jaw and cheekbone, his right eye already swelling. His leather coat was scorched, his shirt was soaked in blood. More blood was splattered across his chin from where he’d been choking it up.
He hadn’t made a move to sit up at all, which didn’t bode well.
I listened carefully.
His pulse was weak. Far too weak. It was also thready, which was a sign of both blood loss and internal injury.
His breathing was shallow and uneven, indicating pain with inhalation—a classic sign of cracked or severely bruised ribs.
I listened harder and made out the sound of subtle creaking and grinding. Yeah, definitely broken ribs.
No. Worse. There was… a wetness to each breath. A rattle just beneath the ribs. A lung—punctured by splintered bone.
Shit.
“I need to heal you now,” I said, ripping off my right tactical glove, then dropping my fangs.
“Just… need… my house.”
“You’re kidding? I can’t move you like this. The toll that vamp speed could take on your body while you’re like this… no fucking way.”
“You don’t… understand.”
“You hate weakness, I get it. Believe me. But you’re gonna have to suck it up.” I tore into my wrist with my fangs, opening a vein for him. “Besides, my blood has one hell of a kick to it thanks to my father’s side, so that weakness you hate will only be temporary.”
I shoved my wrist toward him and our eyes locked.
Fucking intensely.
And then his tongue darted out and lapped at the wound I’d basically gouged into my wrist.
Just that slight flick from him sent a shock of sensation through me that hit me straight in the dick.
I reached out and cradled his head so he didn’t choke as he ingested more, and his gaze bore into mine as he started to drink from me.
Unlike non-vampires, he didn’t hesitate or screw up his face in disgust like most did at their first taste of blood. He just took it. And, shit, he took it well.
It was all I could do to hold my bloodlust at bay as it was. From the burst of violence just moments ago, the terror and rage at seeing him hurt, and then him drinking my blood, let alone his response to it. He wasn’t just accepting of it, he was… into it.
He was something else. His eyes were hooding, even though he was injured and pained… he was turned on by feeding from me.
It had my entire focus shifting to blood and nothing but blood. The scent of mine, watching it drip from his lips as he drank so quickly. Feeling it rolling through my veins and down his throat, hearing his swallows. His pulse strengthening, the strain receding.
It was working, he was healing.
I shifted my weight a little without relinquishing my support of his head, or moving my wrist from his mouth.
Just that slight bit of movement helped to ground me, to stop me from sinking into it.
Into the urge to bite him back.
To taste him on my tongue.
To drink him down.
I knew a necromancer’s blood wasn’t the most appetizing, that too much could be a little dangerous. But it was about more than the taste in this case.
A snarl escaped me and I couldn’t pull my fangs back.
I was close to frothing at the mouth and—
A strange scent hit me all of a sudden.
With the mind-fuck of everything else, and then needing to tune all of my focus to his injuries, before things had taken another sort of turn in regard to my focus, I hadn’t picked up on it.
No, not just that.
It had been hidden… the veil was dropping… there it was. It was… no. No!
He eased his mouth from my wrist, then moved his head out of my grip and sat up. “All better now. Thank you.”
“You’re lying. Again.”
“What are you—”
I called my talons and slashed them across his coat and shirt, until they were just scraps and he was essentially shirtless, just down to his pants.
There it was.
His chest, his arms… that grayish tint. “You’re desiccating,” I choked.
He went to snap his fingers, to clearly cover himself, but then he abruptly stilled. “Magic sparking,” he warned.
“What?”
“He’s not down…he’s—”
In the next second, a blast of power tore me from him and sent me flying across the forest several feet away.
I managed to land in a primed crouch, then spin around, just as Rennick thrust both his palms at me, that yellow magic streaming forth brutally.
“Stay down, beast,” he seethed at me.
I growled and pushed forward even as his magic slammed into me.
His eyes widened as I pushed against it, one shaky step forward at a time.
I saw Sylas’ power spark, but it went out a second later.
The fucking desiccation was preventing him from being able to use his magic.
“Stop!” he cried, trying to push to his feet, only to collapse back down.
As he did, I caught sight of the skin of his ankle visible through a tear in the leg of his pants. It was desiccated too.
My blood was supremely powerful. The fact it hadn’t healed that aspect… it was beyond worrying. It had already spread so far. If it reached his heart—
Rennick delivered a slice of magic across my throat, making me choke as the searing pain of him ripping my flesh open deeply had blood drenching my T-shirt in seconds.
Couldn’t kill me, though.
Or stop me.
His eyes widened as it healed rapidly, and I just kept pushing forward.
I was taking a shitload of damage, because he was using his full power and it was only my healing factor and my goddamn stamina that was enabling me to keep moving forward.
All of that was being enhanced with a shitload of panic because if I didn’t get to Sylas soon and figure out a way to stop that desiccation he’d be lost to me.
“Stand down!” Rennick screamed at me. “You fucking animal! His punishment isn’t done yet. Let me mete it out! This doesn’t concern you!”
“You don’t walk right now and I swear to fuck I’ll hunt you. There’ll be nowhere across the realms that you can hide from me.”
It wasn’t in my nature to allow an enemy to run.
But I needed this shithead gone now so I could see to Sylas. Right now!
I actually saw him hesitate, especially as he took in my eyes flaming, my bloodlusting fury laid bare for him to choke on, and piss himself over.
He shuddered. “You’ll let me walk? With my girl?”
“Not with her,” Sylas interjected, before I could confirm it, and finally get the bastard away from us, away from him.
What was he playing at?
“You’re abusing her, warping her mind with magic,” Sylas bit at him.
Rennick had been doing what to his woman?
“No deal then!” he screeched.
While he was distracted yelling at Sylas, I jerked back, breaking the connection with his magic, then I vamp sped toward him.
But at the last second, he blasted me, ripping me off my feet, and using my speed against me. It had me landing with a back-breaking thud on the ground.
And then he was there, wailing on me with blast after ruthless blast, making me writhe on the ground and grit my teeth.
I heard Sylas yelling, saw him fighting to call his power.
And then purple lightning suddenly lit up the forest in a violent display, a moment before it tore into Rennick, hauling him off his feet, and holding him there in the air as he was electrocuted over and over, his body convulsing wildly as he screamed out into the night.
A moment later, I saw Velra step from the shadows.
Her own shadows.
Kelsana was with her, looking on with a mixture of pain and vindication as she watched Velra punishing her boyfriend.
Rennick passed out from the pain, and Velra pulled her lightning back.
As Rennick dropped in an unconscious heap on the grass, Kelsana strode forward, muttering curses at him, before sweeping indigo smoke around him, then teleporting him away. She kept the magic live as she looked out at me and Sylas in turn sadly, before telling Velra, “Thank you for your help.”
“Of course. When you get back, I’m around, all right?”
She smiled, then teleported away too.
I groaned and pushed to my feet. “How the hell are you—”
“Long story. One we can get into after we see to Sylas.”
We both rushed to him and skidded to our knees either side of him.
“My house. I have a serum. It stops the desiccation.”
“Desiccation, I—oh my God,” Velra exclaimed as she saw it all over his torso and beyond.
“I can’t risk vamp speeding him while he’s in this state,” I told Velra.
“No worries,” she assured me. “Take my hand.”
I did, and then she was sweeping us all up in a teleportation spell.