Dark Angel

Prologue

This is my first attempt at a fanfiction. but please do not let that sway you. The tale I have to tell is of unfathomable details and took a year of writing to begin.. During the writing of this epic tale, I experienced many things.. I believe these experiences were reflected in my writing and you may see that in later chapters I have added more details and seemed to mature. Things people want to know: Will there be a lemon?... the answer is simply this.. I'm not telling. If people are only reading my story for juicy sexual manipulations.. then they probably won't be satisfied.. for those who are reading for the purpose of greater meaning to life.. then perhaps you will feel a sense of contentment. I will only put one disclaimer on the first chapter. Other then that.. they can sue me. Also at the end of each chapter I'm not even going to bother to ask for reviews and such.. I trust this fanfiction enough to expect to be emailed at Tdcamaro@hotmail.com. If not, then what can I do?

But this much I can say. as many stories written in history.. This story. is about love. So is that how I should begin.. or. Should I simply give you a bit of head way as to what this is about.. alright.. perhaps a bit of history is needed..

This epic struggle, you could say, takes place long, long after the last of the Z warriors has fallen.. When I say long.. I mean thousands of years. No longer the furious battles and forbidden loves between Saiyan and human.. I say this simply because neither exists. A single entity of races had been formed.. Unfortunately hatred split the gene in half and therefore spawned the age of Demons and Angels.. This story isn't religious. It's actually rather scientific in a few parts. Basically it has just about everything.. love, hate, betrayal.. you name it.. but then.. I'm getting ahead of myself. At this time Vegeta is the King of Demons. Bulma is the Princess of Angels. Sounds lame, I know.. but I suppose I'm terrible at starting stories. What else can I say? Ah yes.. Angels and Demons are a far superior to humans.. meaning they live longer and of course can fly. They have wings. Alright.. the rest I leave a mystery. I trust that if any one reading this can appreciate a good tale they will review. But that is the last time I will ask. Any further information will be in the story.. So. without further adue. Dark Angel.

Chapter 2

He sat there, amongst the pits of hell, listening morbidly to the screams and sobs of forsaken souls, tortured in the afterlife. A look of satisfaction warmed his face and a sick beam of light glittered in his heartless eyes. He was Vegeta, Lord of the Underworld. Protector of all that was evil and wicked of heart. He gloried in all that was forbidden and pure hatred coursed through his unholy veins. A high pitched wail broke free through the air not far from where he sat, perched so still he resembled a stone gargoyle. He smiled wickedly as he noted that the fear stricken scream had torn through a woman, a former servant of his that had recently lost her usefulness by awkwardly spilling wine on the castle floor. His only pleasure in life was to torture and kill in order to become stronger.

Finishing his meditation on dark thoughts, he stood up and stretched his graceful bat-like wings. He was beautiful in appearance and perfect in stature. He was flawless and dark with a heart shaped face and God-like body etched with muscle, covered by black leather. His outfit complemented his shape, perfectly showing each rippling tendon although it covered his entire body. His face had sharp features. Black eyes and full burgundy lips. Strong cheek bones and well chiseled jaw line. When he smiled his over enlarged canines glimmered sharply as if hungry for blood. He stood straight and walked with authority, his gigantic black wings looming about him wickedly.

He walked towards the castle, a huge ageless tower shadowing the rivers of blood streaming around it. Bodies and appendages floated in the moat surrounding the dark castle. As he walked up the steps to his quarters the very surface of the floor shook at his touch. His servants eyes widened each time he looked in their direction and their bodies quaked with fear if they met his ice cold gaze. He was both fire and ice. This was his domain and he loved it, if indeed it were possible for such a creature to love.

Once in his room he was met by a fearful stare of a tied up man. The man's face was distorted and bloodied from obvious mistreatment. His body showed signs of starvation and his garments were torn. Sweat dripped from quivering brow. A large man stood near the pitiful shaking mass cowering on the floor.

"Yes?" Vegeta's viciously harsh voice sounded, causing more chills to flow through the tied up man on the floor.

"This creature was found stealing resources from the castle, your highness." Replied the large man.

"Is that so, Radditz?" Vegeta sneered, "And what does he have to say?"

The frightened man only shook more violently when then Dark Lord's attention was directed towards him, and was rendered utterly speechless. A swift cracking kick in the ribs from Radditz sent him into hysterics as he pleaded for his life.

"P..Please..your Lordship. I-I was only going to take a little bit of food. for.for my family. They are starving. I. I beg of you, oh merciful Lord." He sobbed while bowing his head low to the ground.

"Please spare me so I can take care of my family. I know you are a just. and wise leader, sire." He pleaded, kissing the demon's feet.

"Go on." Vegeta remarked coolly, obviously interested in the man's word. A look of hope swept over the broken man's face as he continued his flattery.

"I can see.see it in your eyes your worship. You are a kind hearted man." He stammered.

"Oh?" replied Vegeta stepping closer and kneeling on the ground staring hard into the man's eyes. His wings seemed to entangle the two and floated about the tortured man in a seemingly taunting manner. Vegeta's face was mere inches from the man, his stare unwavering, his eyes looking curiously through the man's soul.

"How about now?" he asked in whisper.

"I..I see the same, Lord. You are merciful. and gracious. and kind.and" the man stammered on. A smile twinged at Vegeta's lips. His eyes revealed nothing the man claimed were there.

"You're right." Vegeta smiled. He lifted a hand to touch the man's quivering face. A look of terror washed over the man's wet face as the touch both froze and burned him at the same time. He had never felt anything so . evil.

"I am merciful." Vegeta whispered in his ear, so close his hot breath singed the man's facial hair.

"You die by fire." He said in mono tone. Standing up he looked at Radditz, who was wickedly grinning at the games his master was playing. "Find his family." The King said frankly, looking at the man who had crumbled into a sobbing ball on the floor. Vegeta smiled at the questions racing through the man's face, daring him to believe this monster would take care of his family as payment for his sacrifice. Then he added,

"They can all roast together." His teeth glimmered.

"One. Big. Happy. Family."

The man screamed in disbelief.

"NO! NO! Please . Not my family!! Please! I beg of you! Spare my family!"

Vegeta's face twinged in unbelievable bliss at the reaction. Unfortunately, he had other things to attend to. He laughed wickedly while Radditz dragged the screaming man out of the room.

Chapter 3

Vegeta walked gracefully up a spiraling staircase to the main tower. Plans were to be made. The dark world was filled with turmoil. It had not been so since Vegeta had slaughtered his father, crowning himself as King of the Underworld. At that time all of the shadow creatures had been pleased with their new ruler's lack of conscience and heart of stone. Now their thirst for blood and chaos was causing uproars that even the King could not ignore. Even Hell had its limits.

They also longed for change and as always lusted for power over all things. Not being a ruler to displease his subjects, Vegeta was more then happy to silence their needs. Finally reaching the conference hall, Vegeta was met by 7 warriors, each bowing low in respect for the King. Each knew well that even the slightest disregard for their master could send them to the pits of Hell to burn for eternity. They also knew that the gleam in the Dark Lord's eyes was not to be ignored. He had a plan.

Taking their places, they waited for what seemed a lifetime until Vegeta's icy voice sounded.

"Brothers. I have devised a plan that will conquer West Heaven, putting it under my control." Vegeta was pleased by the gasps and shocked faces that were his reply to the previous statement. But alas, there was more and he continued.

"Once I have complete control of West Heaven all of East Heaven will be quickly won and conquered." More gasps.

"Um." standing up was a short, balding man who obviously had a question. Vegeta eyed the man suspiciously. This man was no Hell Warrior, but merely a scientist who had come in handy from time to time with demented torture tools. He had not gained any respect from the other battle hardened warriors in the room and certainly not from Vegeta who believed that worth was measured by strength alone. Even so, Vegeta humored the man by gesturing for him to go on.

"I.. don't think that is possible.. uh.. your most honorable worshipfulness." He stammered, "West Heaven's defenses are far more advanced then our own. If we so much as step past the barrier the High Lord will be notified and an all out war would begin, one that not even you could win." The others in the room sat in awe at the once seemingly cowardice man who had just informed the Demon King of his limitations. Even so, they sensed the anger seeping from Vegeta and quickly braced themselves.

"So. You doubt my abilities, Oolong?" He seethed. Oolong's feeling of self worth quickly deteriorated when he saw that Vegeta's once coal black eyes had a blood red circle around the pupil and in the iris. He choked out an apology too late. A large energy blast soared at him shattering his bones and disintegrating him in less than a second. Vegeta's burning eyes darted from one warrior to the next, searching all six that remained. Blood was spattered on his face and he looked on the verge of completely losing self control.

"Anyone else care to voice an opinion?" he growled in an unearthly tone. As no one answered Vegeta began to calm himself. Once he had control of his actions he again went on.

"The plan is simple. We cross the barrier of West Heaven causing an uproar, that Oolong so graciously predicted. With their defenses distracted, they will surely not notice the two warriors sent on a mission to infiltrate the High King's tower." Agreed looks came and went and although none of them had the slightest guess what that mission was they kept silent, allowing their master to continue at will with the details.

"The mission is simply this." He smirked.

"Infiltrate the castle.. Kidnap the High King's daughter. The angelic Princess Bulma."
*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0
"Ridiculous!" Thundered the High King. His voice boomed throughout the entire Castle of Light. Still, his angelic daughter stood resolute, a stern look placed on her beautiful face.

"I've never heard such a preposterous idea. Demon's having souls. Bah! Ridiculous!" He hollered.

"Just because its unheard of does not mean it's preposterous, Father. Maybe if we just gave them a chance, we coul-"

"Gave them a chance?! Bulma, you're dreaming!" He cut in.

"Demons do not have souls. You of all angels should know this. Or have you so conveniently forgotten the death of your own mother at the hands of the former Demon King?" Bulma swallowed hard. Of course she hadn't forgotten. She thought about it every day.

"No.. I have not forgotten father."

"Oh? Well then where was his heart? Hm? His soul?" he asked rudely.

"What about the fact that angels are supposed to show mercy and love to all creatures?!" Bulma shot back.

"Yes well.. we're also supposed to forgive and forget. Have you forgiven that monster for killing your own mother while you watched?" His voiced cracked in the end and he turned away fiercely determined to stay strong in front of her. She swallowed again.

"That does not mean that all of them are entirely evil, Father. If we merely gave them the opportunity, perhaps even a treaty could be made."

"A treaty.. Made with hell?!" He roared.

"And do you have any idea who that treaty would be made with Bulma?" He glared at her not really expecting an answer.

"With the new Demon King." She stated boldly, pleased to have caught him off guard at least this time.

"Yes. And do you have any idea what kind of man he is? He's far worse than even his father.. Then even his father's father. He's a blood sucking monster Bulma. He tortures. He kills. He destroys. He lives for those purposes alone. He even killed his own father without a moments thought when he felt it was his time to rule. He's a heartless murderer Bulma. Not a man to make treaties of any kind with." He tried to calm himself, shaking his head while continuing.

"You would understand if you were in my position-"

"But-"

"But you are NOT in my position!" he hollered cutting her off while pointing a finger near her face.

"Therefore you will honor my decisions as your father and you King. Find your place daughter. It is not here!"

Hurt, Bulma stormed out of the room, tears streaming down her cheeks.

The King hated himself for losing his temper with her. She was more upset than she let on and much more fragile than she let anyone know. Things had not been easy with them since he had announced her betroval to the East King's son, Prince Yamcha. He knew that Bulma cared deeply for the future King of East Heaven but despised being forced to do anything.

'So much like her mother.' He sighed to himself. She had believed much the way Bulma did, that creatures of light and dark could one day come to an agreement, ending all wars between them. The King had lost his Queen due to those distorted beliefs and refused to also lose his daughter to them.

Bulma marched angrily to her room. She was disgusted with herself for letting him see her cry. Some "High King of love and kindness" he was! She lay down on her bed pondering all that was said. His mention of her mother had cut into as deeply as it has caught her off guard. She closed her eyes as flashes of an unwanted memory coursed through her head.

The tall handsome warrior draped in black, holding her mother suspended in the air. His black leathery wings batting gracefully in wicked delight. Her mother's face distorted in pain and horror. She could sense her mother's feeling of betrayal as the evil King laughed before drawing his fangs to the queen exposed throat.

The alarm sounded, breaking through the memory. Bulma felt a wave of relief before noting the seriousness of the situation. The demons had not attacked since the death of their Lord and the alarm had startled all the palace's angels into a chaotic frenzy of hysterics. They darted around in confusion, filling the halls with their wails and scurried footsteps. Some found shelter in the dungeons, foolishly believing that was the safest place in case the demons somehow did manage to surpass the barrier and rage a full out attack. Other's that did not share this view point, emptied the castle entirely searching elsewhere for safety.

Bulma stayed in her quarters. She refused to hide like a whimpering child or run away like a thief in the night. She had her dignity. Besides, if the demons did win the battle, there would be no safe place. If she was going to die, she would do so with honor.

Still, bravery could not help her in this situation. The blindly heroic side of her longed to follow her father out to battle. Perhaps not even to engage but to watch. Yet, she knew if she followed he would thrust her away, telling her it was not her place.

She lay down on her soft bed pulling the white sheets over her and staring around at the white room.. How boring. Was heaven so unoriginal that a color assortment was completely unheard of?

"Where exactly is my place?" she stated out loud. She had meant for it to be only to herself but it was obvious that she had startled the two male angels in charge of guarding her room. Slightly blushing, she waved her hand snobbily, motioning them out of the room and ordering them silently to close the door behind them.

Her place certainly wasn't here. With her boring lifestyle. Her forced engagement. Where the hell was the adventure in life. At 17 her life was already planned out for her.

She again recalled her mother, holding her back long ago when she had asked the same question. Tears had flowed freely from her silvery blue eyes as she had felt ashamed by her father's previous scolding. Her mother had smiled sweetly as she gently rocked the young Bulma.

"Someday you'll know my young Princess." She had told her.

"Perhaps you will find your place where you least expect it.. But you'll know. you'll know." Her soft voice had reassured her daughter. She stroked Bulma's glossy silvery blue hair. It had glistened as it flowed through her fingers like wet diamonds, glistening in the sun.

Bulma sighed coming back to reality. She hurt. In her heart she hurt. It was there. Just like it always was. The cold and empty pit of loneliness that never seemed to heal. And deep down was the wretched feeling of pain. As though she had failed her mother.
*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0 *0
"Now don't forget, Draco. Find the angel, leave the seal and then bring her to me." The Dark Lord's tauntingly sinister voice echoed through his head. Draco was none other than Vegeta's older brother who's claim to first born had been stolen by Vegeta when he had torn his father's heart from his chest, naming himself the rightful King. Vegeta was stronger than Draco, this he knew, but still Draco's wicked heart longed for the throne and he smiled revealing his white fangs, so much like his brothers.

'I have a plan of my own, Brother.' He sneered to himself.

His comrade, Dodoria, looked nervously at him. Dodoria was a perfect follower of his king. His loyalty was unshakable and that was why he had been chosen by the king himself to under go this mission. He could still recall the Dark Lord's look of disgust as he examined the unhealthy physique and hideous form of his most avid follower. It was well known that Vegeta was an admirer of beauty and this was a blessing that had not graced itself upon Dodoria. Still, he was favored for his strength and unstoppable determination. Also, he was no fool. He knew of Draco's insane jealousy of his brother's crown and tried not to think of the dire consequences it could have on the mission. Battle cries sounded in the distance as a signal to the two warriors. It was time.

They crept silently through the Dark Woods, the barrier between Heaven and Hell. Dodoria held in one hand his sword and in the other, he firmly gripped a letter, stamped with the Dark Lord's blood red insignia. Dodoria did not need to break the seal to know what knowledge his King had stored in the letter. It was a ransom note. Taking the High King's daughter hostage, Lord Vegeta would force the King to surrender his throne giving Vegeta control over half of Heaven. With that sort of power over Heaven and Hell, it would not be long until the darkest rein of all would sweep through the universe. Vegeta demanded a response within a month or dire punishment would be in store for her.

Dodoria swallowed hard, knowing all too well the consequences of failure on his part.

Finally passing through the barrier, they saw in front of them a white tower of unimaginable magnitude. It gave off such immense light that it temporarily blinded the eyes of the Hell warriors. Being from the Dark World, they had never beheld such light. They despised it. As they despised all of Heaven's pure hearted creatures.

Climbing like spiders up the castle wall, they quietly signaled to each other that, as of yet, they had remained unspotted. They pulled themselves up, this being an extra exuberating effort for Dodoria, and infiltrated inside. They glanced in utter disbelief at the sick scenery around them. They would not remain unnoticed for long. Their black wings and clothing clashed horribly with the white tiles and walls surrounding them. Their black eyes burned from the light flowing around them but they so silently crept through the halls that Dodoria subconsciously let out a cry of shock as a white arrow flew past his head, missing by mere centimeters alone. Quickly, Draco unsheathed his sword and gutted the culprit, a palace guard not surprisingly dressed in all white. The two warriors seemed pleased as they watched the blood taint the whiteness of the man's robbed and slither like snakes across the white tiled ground.

Before they acknowledged it, more and more palace guards came streaming out of the white hall ways, swords ready for an all out war. Mercilessly, the warriors slaughtered each of them. Their deaths were not entirely in vein as the demons themselves sustained many a bloody wound from the guards. When the last of the Angels lay fallen, Dodoria and Draco surveyed the damage they had caused. Blood spattered the wall like crimson paint and morbid hand prints had been placed on the white walls and smeared when the palace guards had tried in vein to pull their dying bodies from the slippery floor.

"Well.." began Draco thoughtfully.

"This place was in need of some color anyways."

Dodoria laughed at his comrade's sinister sense of humor in spite of the pain they were feeling. He could be so much like his younger brother at times. The misplaced cracks of humor. 'The beautiful appearance.' He thought bitterly to himself.

Silently, he followed Draco who skillfully darted through the corridors as if he knew exactly where they were going. The puzzling sense of direction threw Dodoria completely for a loop. It would have taken him all day to manage his way without Draco. And by that time he'd have been fighting off the High King himself.

To be quit honest, he had no idea what he was looking for. Vegeta had only remarked that they would know her by her unmatchable beauty.

"Do NOT be weakened by her appearance. She is the enemy. Only one that for the time being must be spared. She will look like nothing you have ever encountered before but do not hesitate to abduct her with force if need be. But know this, if you so much as bend a hair on her head, your lives will pay the price. You have been warned." The Dark King's threats were never empty and Draco knew this, as he had devised his plan around it.

Dodoria again regarded Draco, wishing wholeheartedly for the ability to read minds. Looking away, he surveyed his ridiculous surroundings again. He hated them with an absolute passion. All demons hated light. He was no acception. The pure brightness of it all still stung his sensitive eyes. But alas.. His hatred was more then just skin deep. It went right through to his black heart. A deep seeded loathing.

As Dodoria followed Draco into a large room, he heard a gasp awakening a young woman. She excitedly bolted to her feet and gazed confusedly at them. Her eyes cautiously darted from them to the door, her only means of escape. Still, for the time being, she bravely held her ground.

Now Dodoria understood his master's warning. She was gorgeous. Nothing like the whores in Hell, who hung lazily around the palace in black see-through clothing.

She was draped in a shimmering white gown that, whether or not intentional, hugged every curve on her seductive body. He doubted she even knew how inviting she was with her flawlessly curvy figure and smooth slightly tanned skin. Nothing could compare to her attentive face that was decorated with two, almost clear glassy eyes, small nose, and unfathomably full burgundy lips. Hey long, exotic white hair gleamed silver with power blue streaks as it flowed long down her backless dress.

Dodoria wanted her. He almost lunged for her before remembering his master's harsh warning.

Seeing the lust in both of their eyes, Bulma made a run towards the door. Before she could reach it, a man flew in front of it and it was all she could do to avoid plowing right into him. She was cornered by the demons who smiled wickedly at her with sharp canine fangs. Truth be told, she'd never been this close to a demon. In fact, she'd only seen one once and it was enough to be caught in the cold grip of terror. Oh, she'd seen many paintings of the legendary demons of old but it was nothing like this. One was amazingly grotesque and fat. She was shocked the belt holding his sheathed sword, hadn't simply burst from the seams. The other was gorgeous, tall and lean, with a muscular physique she was sure he'd inherited from a high ranking family gene.

Although sickly attracted to him, she knew she had to get away from them. As far away as possible.

The fear in her eyes betrayed her and they laughed scornfully, a sound that made the pit of her stomach flutter and her muscles tense with anger. She hated that sound. Without a thought, she dove through the window, dashing the glass into a thousand glittering pieces that shattered like rain around her. She fell fast, too fast for her wings to catch the air in time, and smashed through a thin ceiling, landing wretchedly on her side in another white room. Although her eyes delayed horribly, not wishing to see what they knew where there, she forced herself to glance upwards. Looking up, she saw the Demons descending quickly towards her, magnificently crawling down the white stone wall. Desperately, she tried to gain her footing and let out an exasperated wail as the pain in her body nearly abolished all will power. The fall had put her in bad condition and being unable to stand, she felt like a waiting duck. Like the foolish fly that had so confidently flown into the spiders nest and had gotten stuck, waiting in terror as the creature moved torturously slow towards them.

In a last desperate attempt, she ignored her body's infuriated demands, and made a dash for the door opposite the room. Hope swelled in her chest as she extended her hand towards the knob only to collide with a rock hard chest before being knocked unconscious.

Chapter 4

"Are you mad?!" Dodoria cried watching Draco kneel over the Angel's body after knocking her unconscious. Staring in horror, Dodoria witnesses Draco strategically ripping parts of her gown off. He then began to tear delicate feathers from her shining white wings. He had signed their death warrant.

"I'm not crazy Dodoria. I have a plan of my own." The seemingly insane Demon informed him.

"Unfortunately for you, you play a crucial part in it's design." With that he sent an energy blast that disintegrated Dodoria's body. There was not a shard of flesh left.

Never did he imagine the horror that was felt by the Princess's Fiancée when much later in the night, he would walk into the blood spattered room, only to see shards of his future queen's dress.

Smiling, Draco gently picked up the Princess's limp body, glancing only briefly, in contentment, back at the room, walls covered in a slather of blood with white feathers still floating gracefully in the air.
0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*

Bulma shifted lightly while regaining consciousness. Her head spun as she looked around her, hardly seeing anything. She was in the Black Woods in a decent towards Hell. It didn't take her long to notice the two strong arms wrapped around her body, carrying her through the Barrier. Small flashes of light danced across his facial expressions. His handsome face was smiling. Bulma knew she had to get away from him. Now!

"P..Please. put me down. I feel sick." She said in her softest weak voice. The Demon hesitated and then reluctantly set her roughly on her feet. She feigned sickness, placing her hands on her knees and hunching over. He seemed utterly sickened by her revolting dry heaves and made no attempt to help her. It was then that she threw her infamous bone crunchingly hard kick into every warrior's weakness. He cried out viciously in pain before grabbing his groin and falling hard on his side to the forest floor.

Without a moment's hesitation, she took off running full speed into the blackened forest. She was determined not to go down. At least not without one hell of a fight. She tore her way through the woods. Trees and branches scratched at her, tearing through her body and her gown but still she pressed on never ceasing even though the rush of air burned in her chest.

Suddenly she found herself face first in the dirt after tripping wretchedly on a low vine. She listened in horror at the wicked sounds vastly approaching. Pure terror washed through her. He was already in pursuit.

'How did he recover so quickly' she screamed in her mind. She had once hit Yamcha with the same force rendered him unable to walk properly for a week.

She furiously pushed herself up and took off once again through the pitch black woods. Her eyes were not used to such darkness and she knew she was basically running blindly. She and the Demon in pursuit both knew it was he who had the advantage. He could see much easier in the dark.

She shrieked as his merciless hands gripped her savagely around the waist and then launching her back effortlessly into a tree. Angry at her former deceitful attack he panted in rage, gazing hard into her eyes. He was taken back by the pure venomous hatred that burned in her chrome eyes. He roared out in pain as her sharp nails dug into the side of his face. Overcome by anger, he sent his arm back and with relentless force brought his barbaric nails into her cheek, sending her again to the ground unconscious.
0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*

Bulma regained consciousness slowly. Pain engulfed her entire body after remembering her fight with the demon in the wood. Raising her hand to her face she let out a small shriek at the burning sensation that resulted. Her hand was drenched in blood from touching the three deep tears in her cheek, reminders of the danger she was in. She heard the screams and sobs in the distance coming from all sides of her. The horrific sounds haunted her soul, sending chills up and down her spine. She clutched the man that was carrying her. She knew this was the demon that had kidnapped her, but she also knew that it was too late for an escape and as of now he was her only protection from the monstrosities that lay on either side of her. The dreadful smell of burning flesh awoke her from her dazed state.

Hesitantly, she managed to pry her eyes open. What she saw cannot be described in mere words, though I will try. The world was black and red. It was as though she was being carried through a cracked and barren waste land. A desert smeared by rivers of blood. She blinked as she saw bloodied bodies reaching towards her, the creature's faces painted with signs of pain and anguish. She feared and pitied them at the same time. Some seemed angry at her, as though if they could touch her they would tear her fragile body into retching pieces. Others stretched towards her in hope, as though she alone could free them of their eternal bondage. She had heard tales of the unimaginable creatures in Hell that burned in eternal torment only being freed when the former Demon King passes. What scared her the most was the fact that there were so many of them. Each suffering torment because of their untimely deaths at the hand of the Dark Lord. She longed to help them with all of her heart but with a mere glance from Draco, they recoiled like snakes burned. Fires burned in the distance. Bulma could make out similar shapes of bodies. There were so many. All looking at her. She cringed at the sounds of moans and screams from the tortured souls.

"Not exactly what you were planning on waking up to Princess?" Smirked Draco in a deep voice. Bulma glanced at him. Now she saw his face much more clearly then in the forest and again remarked to herself that he was handsome although obviously deadly. In spite of herself, she gripped onto him quivering almost uncontrollably. She held herself tightly against his firm chest.

"Please take me back.. I. I'm so scared." She pleaded in to his throat as he carried her.

"This scares you?" He grunted.

"Wait until you meet my brother, the Demon King. Then you will know the true meaning of fear my Princess."

She looked up at him confused. The King would send his own brother on a mission to kidnap a defenseless girl? Glancing at the deep gashes on either side of his face made from her finger nails, she got a sick feeling of delight.

'Well.. not entirely helpless.' She snickered to herself. Still, she had no idea why she had been kidnapped exactly, much less why it would be so important that the Dark King would send his own flesh and blood to retain her. She figured that it would have something to do with holding her ransom but surely the Dark Lord would not be mislead to believe that her father would make any kind of deal with the Devil in order to rescue her. Looking again at her captor, she noted the firm resolve etched into his stern face and knew that she would no longer have any reason to dishonor herself further. No matter how she pleaded, he would never take her back. She lay back into his arms, trying desperately to avoid thinking about her dire future or her gruesome surroundings to no avail. She could merely stare in awe at the red, fire scorched sky above her. After what seemed an eternity, Draco smiled wickedly.

"We are here. The Black Castle."

Bulma was speechless as she turned her gaze towards the burning black tower before them. A normal fool might have mistaken the monstrous creation as a volcanic mountain because of its awe inspiring size. It seemed to stretch for miles and she could swear the top touched the crimson sky. It even seemed to smoke at the foundation and was the color of the deepest coal. Surrounding it was a moat of lava.. Or so she had thought. Gazing harder at the mysteries liquid, she had to breathe hard to avoid retching all over her own face.

'Bodies. my God.. there are body pieces floating in the moat.' Her own voice screamed in her head.

The circular river of "lava" was none other then a tomb of watery blood. She forced her innocent eyes to look away so infatuated with the morbid sight, she had become. For who of us could deny that at the sight of the dead.. our eyes seemed to be attached.

Now she noticed something stranger. The formerly hot and muggy air had dropped to a near freezing cold the closer they got. She couldn't careless. She buried her face into the leathery material covering Draco's muscular chest. She'd be damned if she looked any longer. Still, she could tell they were getting closer. And as the sound of foot steps on stone touched her ears, she finally chanced a glance at her new surroundings.

The palace was unbelievably dark. The kind of dark that never reached heaven. It was disorientating. Like the feeling of isolation when the lights are off inside of a cave. The sticky cold air felt strangely moist and her teeth chattered at the queer, biting cold. She wondered silently, if she would ever regain her eyesight in this haunted place.

She could now sense that they were descending up a flight of stairs. Silently and very privately, she thanked her eyes for their apparent failure. In truth, she was petrified at what may lie in the dark corridors around them. Never in her life had she been exposed to such gruesome surroundings and her eyes begged for no more.

"What is that?" demanded an evil voice. The suddenness of the voice caused Bulma to nearly jump from Draco's arms and run blindly for sanctuary. But the powerful Demon held her firmly and yet strangely gently.

"The King's cargo." Replied Draco sarcastically. Bulma noted to herself that she firmly disliked being imagined as "cargo" but then again. would she really voice such an opinion? She thought not.

"Open the door Radditz!" shouted Draco.

Bulma cowered in his strong arms. She knew for whatever reason that she hadn't heard the last of that name.

"Whatever you say Draco." Radditz sneered. He resented being ordered by a soldier of the same caliber as himself but then, seeing what shape the "cargo" was in, he allowed it to slide. Draco had far worse things then him to worry about.
0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*

The room was freezing cold and Bulma clutched Draco even tighter still. She knew this was utter foolishness since he was a heartless killer himself, but she sensed that there was something in that room much more evil than him.. Not to mention more powerful.

Suddenly, Draco did something that Bulma had never anticipated him to do. Placing her impressively gently on her feet, he bowed low. A cold shiver ran through her noticeably quivering body as she realized what this gesture must mean.

Slowly but surely, her eyes began to behold a figure standing tall in the corner where the darkness shadowed him and the ever increasing cold seemed to flow. Her knees nearly bucked beneath her as she figured out who he was. She was beholding the living legend that not one Angel had ever placed eyes upon and lived to tell the tale. She could not even convince herself of it. She just knew.

"Bow!" Ordered Draco, obviously disturbed that she had not already thought to do so. Whether it was from being so panic stricken with fear or simply arrogance and pride that kept her from bowing, I'll never know. Probably a sad combination of both I imagine. But for whatever reason, she remained in up right position, a look of firm defiance planted on her abused face.

"I said bow!" Fumed Draco. It was all he could do to harness his short temper from tearing her stubborn body to bleeding shreds right in front of his brother.

"Now now brother." Whispered a sinister voice. It stopped Bulma's heart. No.. I mean it. Her heart literally skipped a beat at the low tone. It was harsh and raspy. A thick accent lacing every simple word. But above all, it was flowing with sheer masculinity.

"There's no need to shout." He continued tauntingly.

"Besides.. last time I checked, it was I who was giving the orders around here."

Bulma gasped as the figure emerged from the shadows, revealing himself in the dim light. He was beautiful.. My God. Absolutely beautiful. Like a painting. Flawless like a Greek God. Dark and wicked obviously, but attractive to the extremities Bulma had never before encountered.

She fought hard with herself not to blush as his fierce eyes examined her. She refused her eye's proposition to stare at his muscular body, carved like a statue and covered by black leather. She had, for whatever reason, expected him to be old. Well, maybe not old, old. But certainly older than the man that stood before her. He looked as if he was possibly pushing late twenties.

His thick black wings enveloped them as he stepped dangerously near to her. They loomed around her tauntingly, almost (dare I say) in a sexually flirtatious manner. She dared her eyes to gaze up at his. A mistake. She shook horrendously at the cold, unimaginably endless black abysses tearing through her soul. He moved closer to her, plainly having no use for personal boundaries. His face was barely an inch from her's, exposing more of his unearthly handsome qualities. His dark eyes seemed to burn through her. Searching her. For what?

Suddenly the room became hot. Still facing his eyes unmovable, the Princess silenced a cry that tried to rip it's way out of her. To her horror, the blood vessels in his eyes began to cluster around his pupil, creating a monstrous effect. The iris's turned a deep red. He looked very much like the demon he was. As he bared his sharp teeth, Bulma shuttered subconsciously. It was him. The creature who had murdered her mother.

'No.' she told her self.

'It's his son. It's only his son.'

She was feverously awakened from her acknowledgements as Vegeta turned viciously toward Draco. The Princess screamed as blood spattered onto her face and dress. Lying on the ground was Draco, his left cheek in bloody shards of molden flesh. Still he looked defiant.

"I believe I told you she was not to be harmed!" Vegeta spat out furiously, his tone much different then his previous. Bulma was deeply confused as to why her condition would matter to a wicker creature like Vegeta. Her thoughts were pushed aside as her violently grabbed her face, forcefully cocking it from side to side, roughly examining her. His sharp nails grazed across her three deep tears, almost sending tears out of her eyes. She ground her teeth together, both from the pain and the utter humiliation she was suffering.

"Where is Dodoria!?" He thundered. Calmly, Draco cleared his throat, still clutching what remained of his shattered face.

"It was Dodoria who attacked her. He desired her my Lord. He knocked her unconscious and tried to force himself upon her. I had no choice but to dispose of him myself."

Bulma scoffed at his sad attempt to persuade the King to believe he had nothing to do with it. Her stinging cheek bore witness to his savage treatment and at any other moment she would have called him on it. Still, the angel felt sorry for the demon crouching on the floor beneath his own monstrous brother. Vegeta's possessed eyes turned to her, nearly sending her into hysterics.

"Please don't hurt me." She whispered chancing a look towards Draco. Vegeta smiled, if you could call it that.

"You have no reason to believe I would harm you Angel. And nether does Draco if what he says is true. " He waited patiently for her answer, his sharp gaze never leaving her. She glanced down at Draco, knowing that her answer would mean the difference between his life or death.

"He.. He's telling the truth." She sighed. "He never touched me."

She looked dejectedly down at her blood spattered dress as he released her face.

Draco was beyond belief. He had been careless with his treatment of her and had expected to be killed. But now his arch enemy, an angel was defending him. Lying to save his life to the Dark King, of who she was so obviously deathly afraid of. It was a strange feeling. He thought to himself. Perhaps when the rebellion was finished and Vegeta lay dead, he would claim her. She was fiery and brave beyond logic. And beauty was so obviously not an object as she was by far the most exotic creature he'd ever beheld. Even if she didn't accept him, he was destined to have her. God knew rejection had never been a habitation before. He could tame a stubborn creature. He could break her if need be. She was so beautiful.

Even his cold hearted brother had noticed this and Draco had sensed that he was a bit taken back by it. For obvious reasons, Draco's hatred for his brother had swelled enormously by his brother's reaction to her. Perhaps it was a simply twinge of the eye brow.. a sparkle in his dead eyes. But for whatever reason it was there. Even in the tone of voice Vegeta had used. It was soft instead of his usual intimidating growl.

Seething with anger, Draco managed to get to his feet, still clutching his face. Vegeta saw it as an act of defiance and standing inches from Draco's face, ordered him to leave.
Alright folks.. There you have it. The fourth chapter to my epic tale. I hope by now you believe my suggestion that you would be hooked by the first few chapters. I plan on having at least two chapters out each day. The reason is simply this. The longer I wait for a story to be updated, the less interested I become. Not to mention the fact that you forget most of the details and occasionally get the story confused with another you had been reading in it's absence. So enough babbling..(since I despise when other authors do it) oh and at the beginning of each chapter.. don't expect me to do the usual "sorry it took so long to update but I was busy with- blah blah blah" Like I said, I plan on keeping this baby going each day. So if something happens to deter the progress, it's most likely incredibly important or has something to do with Fanfiction.net not working. Also..(sorry this is getting long but I believe most of this is a need-to-know basis) As regards to reviews.. I plan on emailing back everyone who is cool enough to review. Plus, I'll thank you in the end and tell others just how awesome you are. Sound like bribery? Good.. cause that's exactly what it is. And if there are any universal questions to be answered.. I hope no one minds if I answer them at the end of each chapter as I'm doing now. That's all for now. Until next time, I love each of you for reading even this far. It's people like you that keep this world running. I mean that from the bottom of my heart.

Chapter 5

Alone with the Princess, Vegeta was free to examine her closely. As he circled her, he noticed the way she shivered underneath his gaze. He admired her courage. She so noticeably tried to hide her fear, coating her stance with stern defiance. She even looked him straight in the eye, a feat few demons warriors could accomplish. Her wounds, so obviously made by Draco, no doubt pained her deeply.

As if she herself had suddenly become aware of this, she collapsed onto her knees on the stone cold ground. She coward on the floor, glaring up at him, fuming in unexpressed rage. She even bared her teeth at him, grinding the shiny pearls together in hatred at her ultimate humility. He was her enemy. And she his. The two simply stared at each other, neither making a move.

Simply beholding such a monster made her anger bubble forth. But then again, it was held at bay by her superb fear of him. He could tear her to pieces before she was even aware he had touched her. She was nothing more to him then another useless life to snuff out of existence. And if need ever arose, he wouldn't hesitate. They both knew this.

Vegeta crouched down in front of her, so silently she hadn't even noticed him move until she was faced with the dead black eyes in front of her's. It was obvious he got some kind of sick thrill out of seeing her in mortal fear of him.

Still, he gazed into her crystal blue eyes, admiring their likeness to that of a rare diamond. She was exuisite. Like an ancient sculpture of the pagan Goddess Aphrodite, she was beautiful to the fullest extremes. So different, she was, from the women he had encountered all his life. It was strange. she almost seemed to radiate light. A light that most demons hated but that had fascinated him his entire life. For all of his characteristics, Vegeta wore the cape of curiosity most frequently.

Which of us could say that we've never sat awake at night and wondered what it was that existed outside of this earth? Who of us would admit that the forbidden wasn't, in itself, a blind temptation for our ever manipulative curiosity? And so it was with Vegeta. Living in a dark realm, he'd often wondered what heaven would look like, though he had never been afforded the opportunity to rival in his wonder. The idea still plagued him like a disease, constantly reminding him of his insolence in the matter. He'd never seen heaven.

Bulma felt close to tears. She was frightened and hurt, kneeling like a whimpering child on the cold floor. Being incessantly examined by a murderous animal. His unwavering stare was making her increasingly uncomfortable. No one had ever looked at her like that. They dare not. It was almost hauntingly seductive, a look only afforded to her future husband. He used it often when trying to persuade her surrender her innocents to him. An act she had never done, nor will ever do until she was ready. Only the demon's gaze was much more intense, as if he wanted more then just her body. As if she held the key to heaven and he was trying to reach it. Her swollen lips quivered in fear before she could bite down.

He had noticed. Slowly, the demon raised his hand to gently touch her face, his thumb brushing along her bottom lip. It amazed her. The touch was both hot and cold at the same time. Mildly but it was there, like nothing she had ever before experienced. He seemed to be calming her as his fingers grazed her torn cheek in concern. It was simply stunning that such a wicked creature, capable of such monstrocities that we will never know, could touch a wound so tenderly.

Still, she felt humiliated by her fear and frustrated that she could not vent the anger that burned inside. A single tear escaped her blurry eyes, sliding down her soft cheek.

The King looked confused as to what was happening. What was this strange reaction she was having? Why the liquid cascading down her cheek?

'He's never seen tears before' she thought to herself. It was sad in a morbid way. She wondered if demon's even could cry and release the hurtful sensations that weld up inside. He stared at it several moments, observing it as a child would a dangerous insect.

Hesistantly, he touched it and as he did it fell to the ground and shattered frozen. Bulma's breath faltered immediately and came in quick horrendous gasps. He was a monster. As if to calm her, he touched her face, again examining her wounds. Still, his touch was a bit too hot, reminding her of the dangers that lurked behind his mask of seeming concern.

"Why did you lie for Draco?" he asked suddenly. The finality of those words left her speechless. He knew she had lied. He knew and now her own life hung on her immediate reply. She bit painfully into her quivering lip to silence the tears begging to be set free.

"I.." she began. How many memories one experiences right before they die. Her honor. Her pride.. Rubbish in the long run. She would die with neither. Only a sacrifice for a killer.

"I didn't want you to kill him." She answered meeting his gaze. The sensation on truthfulness in her words seemed to calm him.

"Why?" he cocked his head to the side.

"Surely you must know he would not do the same for you." He said the words in a harsh scornful voice. How could she answer? I mean, how exactly would you explain the concept of mercy to a creature who had never been or had shown it? How could she justify her actions to a demon who probably didn't even know what the word meant?

Seeing her obvious struggle for words, he stood up, towering over her shaking form.

"You are weak." He informed her in a contemptible voice.

"You will soon learn that such actions can mean your demise and lying to me ensures it." He pointed a sharp finger nail at her in an intimidating motion.

"Steer clear of both and I may actually allow you to live." He said the words as if her life lay in the palm of his hand. Actually if you want to be critical.. it actually did. Before thinking, Bulma asked him a question that she immediately regretted.

"What's your name?" I think both were stunned by her boldness. To ask the Demon King anything, let alone such a vindictive question was pure insolence. He seemed to stiffen while pondering whether or not to even reward such a moronic question and answer.

"Vegeta." He answered simply.

Gently, he bent down and picked her up, softly cradling her in his powerful arms. Bulma remarked to herself that she'd never been carried so many times in her life as she had in this day. Even more silently, she told herself that Vegeta carried her much more pleasantly than his wretched brother, gliding through corridors and stairways as if he were flying. A few times she could have sworn she'd seen moving shadows and heard closing doors, but nothing for sure claiming there were other inhabitants in this morbid sanctuary for evil.

Carrying her swiftly up a long flight of stairs the scenery changed dramatically. The cold stone floor was replaced by shiny black marble. Vulgar paintings lined the walls, most making her blush and turn away. She remarked only silently how protected from such artwork she had been all of her life. Though gracefully stunning, the murals portrayed acts in which she knew were forbidden, at least out side of marriage.

All the while she was avoiding looking too long at the paintings, Vegeta was in complete obliviousness. What did it matter to her what his name was? All she needed to know was how to avoid displeasing him. Still, in all honesty he was not angry with her. Simply intrigued by her purity and innocence. Such a strange creature was this angel.

As they entered the room, Bulma gasped. It was huge. Entirely black and red. It was decorated for royalty and every shutter was laced with black lining. The windows were drapped with thick crushed velvet and, much to her dismay, expensive paintings of naked woman decorated each wall. In the far corner was a bed that could only be imagined in a virgin's wildest dreams. A monstrous canopy bed, covered in red velvet and sheer material. The bed post featured carvings of gargoyles and other demon legends. It called to her as much as it frightened her. She remarked to herself that despite the obvious morbidness it held, it was by far the most excuisite room she'd ever seen.

"Well, what did you expect Princess." Vegeta grunted.

"A dungeon? We're not that barbaric." He nearly chuckled. Somehow she didn't believe him but decided not to voice such an opinion as he moved away the velvet and sheer red material, lying her on the black comforter. He could have laughed at how her light hair and dress clashed with the black material but decided that the situation was far too tense for her as it was.

"Why am I here?" she demanded. Her tone almost set his temper off. Apparently her thankfulness for him not disintegrating her to bones was absent.

"Why did you kidnap me?!"

The Demon King was simply stunned. No one, I mean no one ever talked to him in such a way. How had he not seen this side of her? She was so bossy and domineering, which, truth be told, only seemed to intrigue his ever present curiousity further. He stood over her studying the flames burning in her chrome eyes before he chose to honor her with an answer.

"You are here," he began, "as a hostage. I had one of my warriors, sent to obtain you, leave a message for your father. He will surrender his kingdom.. in return for you."

Bulma laughed. By God she actually laughed.. a scornful sound which sent anger penetrating every part of his body.

"You're crazy if you believe my father would ever make a trade with the likes of you!" she spat reproachfully. Vegeta continued to struggle to remain calm.

"Do not be so hasty, my angel. I am fully aware of the weaknesses of angels. Your ever present consciences, your over board emotions. Your father cares for you deeply Princess. That will be his downfall." Vegeta smirked in confidence.

"And My kind are fully aware of the treachery of your kind. Most of all my father. He would never surrender West Heaven to the likes of you. Even if it came with a price." She sneered.

"It is a small price to pay in order to prevent you from causing the deaths of countless angels." She finished.

"You are wrong!" He countered angrily.

"You are everything to him. His care for you makes him the weakling that he is. I dare say the poor old fool even loves you." He said the word as though it were a detestable thing.

"Of course he loves me!" she screamed sitting up in bed. She'd be damned if she let him intimidate her on this.

"Not that I would expect a heartless, brainless animal like you to understand what love is!"

Too late to take it back, Bulma screamed as Vegeta's anger and the temperature in the room, skyrocketed. He viciously pinned her down onto the bed, his sharp black nails digging into her wrists. Blood began to spurt from where his fingernails were imbedded into the soft flesh. He was seething with rage and his eyes were a deep blood red.

The pain.. The fear. Bulma's face never admitted either although at the moment they were all she could decipher in her pool of emotions. His hard body pressed tightly into hers, his hot breath burning into her neck where his face lay whispering words in a sinister tone that frightened her all the more so.

"Not so fast my angel." He whispered.

"I know what love is. At this very moment.. I would love to kill you." Her blood ran cold. Still, she would never allow her fear to show through. Never allow him to win.

"You can't kill me Vegeta. You need me alive." She whispered to the ceiling.

The demon turned to face her, his possessed eyes burning with sheer intensity. Suddenly, he kissed her. A hard vicious kiss cutting her lips with his teeth. Never had she experienced something so animal. He pushed harder slicing her tongue and inner mouth. She was horrified. Her mouth began to gush blood which only seemed to excite him more. Harder and harder he worked, drawing the blood out of her mouth into his own and tearing her lips more and more. Finally, he pulled away with a gasp of delight, her blood leaking from his mouth. Panting hard, he glared at her with an evil smirk.

"You'd be surprised what you can live though my angel."

Chapter 6

It had been two weeks since her abduction and still not a word. Her father should have at least responded by then, she thought grimly, sifting through her newly acquired ward rob. Vegeta, heartless creature that he was, had insisted on providing her with more than the necessities. He had given her countless gowns for her immensely growing closet and insisted she look presentable. She could not imagine why. It wasn't like anyone but him and her also newly acquired body guard, Radditz, ever saw her.

The demon's were a barbaric group. Late night parties and unimaginable traditions were their daily routine. She couldn't quite figure what it was she had imagined them to be but it certainly wasn't the drug addicted spawn of creation she was witnessing. Even the "invincible" Demon King himself, had many a night been unable to recognize her for reasons unbeknownst to her.

Every day she remembered the kiss. If indeed, you could call it that. It had been a whirl wind of emotion. Fear, pain, and yes.. Even pleasure. A kind of sick, demented pleasure that she could neither understand nor deny.

She had seen him every day since her kidnapping, occasionally for almost an hour. Sad to say, he and Radditz were her limited and only social life. Radditz hardly ever spoke, although when he did, he was far more courteous then Vegeta. Radditz would merely sit and observe her from a corner in her room, in which she had supposed he'd been banished until the end of her stay. Occasionally though, she would catch him out of the corner of her eyes, smiling at her strange angelic ways. In truth, and though I doubt she would ever admit it if you asked her, she believed he liked her.. or I guess I should say tolerated her.

It was more than she could say for her barbaric servant women. Stomping around her with hideous scowls entrenched on their manly faces, they never spoke. Not even to answer a question, which Bulma considered silently, was simply common courtesy. She could tell that they despised her. She was their enemy. They glared at her light skin and hair, a complete contrast with their own.

Finally, she would have it no more and decided to out right ask Radditz. He chuckled softly, a sound she adored simply because of it's fine rarity in such a place.

"Jealousy." He remarked simply in a way all his own. She could only reply in confusion and he sighed, realizing she had obviously missed the underlying meaning.

"The King shows you far more attention than any of them. Than anyone at all in Hell. They believe you have cast a spell on him."

"Preposterous!" she seethed.

"I don't know the first thing about spells and I certainly wouldn't know one that could control Vegeta."

Radditz always flinched when she used his master's name. He often scorned her for such blatant disrespect and yet it further disturbed him that the King hardly seemed to mind. This time though, he let the name slide.

"Well.. spell or not, you have certainly bewitched me Princess." He rivaled in her blush but choose to continue.

"I am not the only one. All the males who have seen you are awe stricken Angel. This is the source of their jealousy." He told her truthfully. She admired his blunt answers and painful honesty. She flushed at his comments, turning away. He certainly was confident and had the looks to back it up. And, although he seemed oblivious, she had noticed the lustful looks he had gotten from the servant women. He had a boyishly handsome face and bright eyes, so much like her old friend Goku in Heaven. Another acquaintance she missed dearly.

She could not even force herself to flirt back. She was too occupied with thoughts of Yamcha. Unbelievable how much you can miss a person you never imagined you would. But that simply wasn't true. She had known the Prince all her life and cared deeply for him in a way more superior then petty friendship. She missed him and thought of him everyday as she stared off into the surrounding nation of blood. She knew as soon as she was surrendered she would marry him. She openly pushed away the ever present thought that there was a good chance she'd never even see him again. Negative thoughts were detrimental in such a condition that she was in. All she would allow herself to ponder over was him and how much she loved him.

Her and Vegeta's talks were always converted into arguments. It was like clock work. He would show false interest at first and than make some snide remark about her or her upbringing causing her to insult him and his barbaric kingdom and before you know it, he would storm out of the room. One time he had savagely thrown her onto the bed as a result of a misplaced insult. It hadn't hurt and Bulma found it suprising that for all his savage ways, Vegeta mainly avoided ever hurting her.

Today things were tense. She had felt Vegeta's frustration when he had walked into the room. Knowing she was walking on thin ice, she decided to tread softly today. She wanted to avoid an unfriendly episode today. She just wasn't in a feisty enough mood.

He sat at the end of her bed, tapping his foot viciously on the floor, his black combat boots making a sharp clicking on the expensive marble beneath. The temperature in the room was unpleasantly hot and she was sure that the angry demon had not even noticed. Silently, she resolved to calm him down before virtually being melted.

"What's wrong Vegeta?" she asked in a voice so sweet it could have sent Saddam Hussein to his knees. He eyed her cautiously, uncertain as to where this apparent concern was heading. He buried his face in his hands exasperated. He'd never understand this creature. But her face betrayed no hint of deceit and the thought calmed him, the temperature in the room becoming more and more acceptable. Funny how he hadn't even noticed how hot it had been. Massaging his temples in frustration, he looked at the floor.

"Another outbreak. Fifteen of my strongest men where slaughtered by a demon mob." He sighed.

She remarked quietly to herself that this was by far the least dangerous she'd ever seen him. And even more privately, perhaps even privately from herself, she had begun caring mildly about him. And she knew how much it upset him to see his kingdom in such turmoil. She should have guessed in the first place that that was what was bothering him. The outbreaks were becoming more and more frequent and she wondered if perhaps her staying in the castle wasn't partly to blame. The heartless creatures that inhabited this last were in a firm resolve to take action against the throne if their demands for power were not met and Vegeta was at his wits end on how to keep them at bay.

Obviously not asking aloud, Bulma silently wondered if Vegeta's stressful condition regarding his kingdom wasn't out of pride and blind arrogance. She knew that he had killed his father, he made no attempt to conceal such information, forbidden though it was. But she figured that perhaps this goal of striving to be the strongest was a direct attempt to be a better king than his father was. Maybe even to prove to his father that he was worthy of his title. Much more so then his brother Draco.

"It is of no real concern." He straightened up.

"Once I own heaven, there will be no reason for rebellion." Bulma shrugged noticeably unconvinced.

"It seems like people always have a reason for rebellion." She pointed. "Even in heaven we have two sided opinions and an occasional outbreak." Vegeta raised an eyebrow in slight disbelief.

"Really?" He asked. It wasn't a question he was used to asking but her information had simply startled him. She giggled a little, releasing all the tension that had been mounding in the air. Moving closer to him, she continued.

"Well none that actually get around." She winked. The gesture pleased him.

"My father makes sure that such disputes are settled quickly and quietly so that heaven remains the peaceful kingdom it has always been with reputation in tact. But being the Princess, sure I've seen lots of crazy things happen over moronic incidences."

"Like what?" he asked. She hadn't really expected him to be interested and the idea simply thrilled her.

"Well," she began, "I mean there are some angels who believe that all demons are evil and that they should be hunted down like animals and be slaughtered just for what they were. And then there are.. people like me." She wasn't sure if she should have put that part in there but it had obviously raised further interest.

"Oh? And what do people like you believe?" he asked in his trademark deep accented voice. The raspiness of it sent chills up her spine. His gaze didn't exactly help as she always seemed to interpret it as more than what it was, a sad side affect of being beautiful and desired her entire life. She did notice that his gaze no longer made her so uncomfortable. She smiled slightly before arranging her words. She didn't want to accidentally insult him with a quick and faulty tongue.

"I believe.. well.." she stammered, unsure of an answer that wouldn't make her look like a moron in front of him. For whatever reason, though I'm sure you and I know, his opinion of her mattered greatly.

"Well you see.." she began, "when I was a little girl, my mother always told me that every being had a soul." Her only reaction was a raised eyebrow so she continued.

"That soul is capable of so many things and emotions. A soul can feel fear, hatred, hurt and even love."

"Ridiculous." Grunted Vegeta, but his open interested had not dwindled. Some how Bulma wasn't surprised by his comment. It was so like him to insult anything he didn't know first hand and especially something he, God forbid, didn't understand. Still, she remained calm simply dismissing the verbal intrusion with a curt wave of the hand.

"Well, ever since then, I've always agreed with her. I believe everyone has a soul." Vegeta remained in quiet resolve for a moment before looking her straight in the eye.

"I don't." he said the words with such finality that it was as if he had already forsaken such an idea.

"If you want to believe that you don't, then go ahead Vegeta." She stated firmly as if she were talking to a misguided teen.

"If believing you were damned from birth helps you to kill more easily and cleans your conscience every night then be my guest. But I don't believe you." Between us.. and keep this little tid bit to your self. I don't actually think Bulma even believed what she was telling him. I think even she thought of him as a heartless lost cause at the time. But perhaps I shouldn't skip to conclusions.

"I believe that everyone has a soul. Whether or not they choose to abide by what it tells them or dismiss it, is up to them. But I believe that not all demons are monsters and that mercy can and should be shown when needed. I guess.. I guess I just choose to give everyone the benefit of the doubt." She ended looking down. She half expected him to throw her across the room and begin his trademark ranting and raving but he remained in his place. Not even scornful laughter escaped his solitude as he took in what she said.

"And where is your mother now?" he asked. That was the problem with Vegeta.. She couldn't tell if his façade of concern was genuine or if he was merely setting a trap for her. Either way, she was at a loss for words. How exactly would you inform someone that you'd witnessed their father murdering your mother? It's not exactly much of a conversation starter. One way or another, Bulma knew she couldn't and most certainly wouldn't tell him that. She was sure it would only cause a fight and talking about her mother had already made her feel vulnerable. A fight was not something she could afford at the moment.

"She.. " she took in a deep breath, "she died. She got sick." She let a tear slide down her cheek. She didn't even fight it in order to appear strong infront of him. Between us.. it was the only time she refused to show emotion.. she cried a lot when she was alone.

She felt disgusted with her self. She had dishonored her mother's death with a sick, blatant lie. Looking up at Vegeta he looked as though he where either pissed off or hurt. She should've been able to decipher the two, seens how the latter had never been displayed before but in all honesty, she simply couldn't. Such a mystery this stone cold creature was. But something told her he knew of her deceitfulness but he made no direct reply about it, simply shaking his head at her and standing up. Giving her a displeased look, he abruptly stomped out of the tense room, leaving a flustered Bulma behind.

Chapter 7

As the third week came to a close, Bulma had all but given up hope. She roamed the castle hall ways bravely, fearing not the hatred that no doubt would face her. She was oblivious to the fact that some of her servant woman had begun to like her. Their friendly teasing of her light hair and skin was observed as further dislike. A time or two they had even found humor in remarking that their King had been showing apparent affection towards her. Bulma had laughed. If ignoring and more than occasionally blowing up at her, was Vegeta's way of showing affection, they were crazy to envy her. Not to mention foolish for even suggesting such a preposterous notion. She knew as well as anyone that Vegeta despised her. He loathed her very essence as she did his.

He was the cause of her abrupt demolition of life. And she hated him for it. Every day, every minute, every second she was away from Yamcha her deep seeded hatred for Vegeta grew. He was her tormentor and the frustrating fact was that she could do nothing to rectify the situation. She wished she could keep track of every single second he had done her wrong and make him pay dearly for each one.

Those were the thoughts that disturbed her the most. Never, in her entire life had she ever wanted a being to suffer. Not to say that she hadn't wished repeatedly for the demise of her mother's killer but to actually long for the torture of another, was superbly sickening to her conscience. Just another reason to despise the demon. She was becoming more and more like him every day. She wondered if Hell did that to a person, Angel or not. Did the lack of lighting make such a bitter person? Was it the taste or smell? Was it the entire atmosphere as a whole? She doubted she'd ever really know the answer. All she could decipher was this supreme bit of information. With every breath she took, she wished for freedom. With every moments passing, she longed for his death. And the worse part was.. she couldn't be satisfied unless it was by her own hand.

And such ideas made her want to die. What use was it being an Angel of God if your heart was as black as a demon's. And the thought that hurt the most, the one she pushed away from her mind most often, the one she blamed most of Vegeta, was the fact that no one had replied. Her father had not sent a word. Nothing. And Yamcha, he had not sent for her. She had expected to be valiantly rescued from her prison all along.. but as the weeks went by her small candle of hope began to flicker.. began to die. And she began to wonder if life was really worth living, if the ones you loved with all of your heart did not return such a blessing.

She was pondering on such dark thoughts when the young boy scampered into her room. He had obviously not even noticed she was present as he buried his face in his hands sobbing. His small black wings shook up and down with the force and her heart nearly broke when she realized the truthfulness as to why he had come into her room in the first place. He hadn't wanted anyone to see him cry. She cursed such a barbaric land for it's selfishness towards children. What kind of life this child must have known. She suddenly felt almost ignorant, realizing that in this child's short life, he had witnessed more grotesque apparitions than she had in her entire 17 years. I say entire, simply because the child sobbing could not have been past the age of 6. In comparison, the two differ greatly.

Moving slowly and quietly, she made her way over to him, surprised that his superior hearing hadn't caught the commotion her dress made. She was no more than a foot from him when she tenderly stretched out her hand and brushed his cheek. Startled, he stared wide eyed at her.

"Shh.. don't be afraid." She cooed to him. He didn't seem convinced.

"My name's Bulma..and I promise I won't hurt you." He gazed up into her eyes, his own suspicious and untrusting in a manner only a child could pull off.

"Are you.. are you an angel?" he asked in a young raspy voice. She was mildly surprised he had even had to ask something so obvious. But then she had to scold herself. He was only about 6 years old.. not doubt far too young to have ever made the journey to heaven. All he knew of her was a mystery.

"Yes.." she replied softly, bending down to make him feel less intimidated.

"I've never seen an angel before. My daddy said you were evil and deceitful creatures." He scowled. She felt incredibly hurt by his painful bluntness and the expressions showed.

"He said you were hideous, disgusting monsters." She couldn't imagine why he was continuing. But part of her wanted to be convinced that he was simply trying to tell himself that. A small smile lit up his face and it seemed to Bulma that he had completely transformed.

"You don't look so bad to me." He stated beaming up at her. She rewarded him with a chuckle.

"Well, my father told me that all demon children were ticklish. But I'd rather find out for myself." She teased before gently attacking his sides. At first he tensed, as if such a gesture were completely foreign to him, but then reaction replaced unfamiliar and he giggled immensely nearly falling on the floor. Releasing him she led him over to a chair.

"What's your name little warrior?" she asked in that polite way that all grown ups address young children in. He fidgeted slightly underneath her unfamiliar gaze. Eyes that blue were completely none existent in the world he had come to know.

"My name's Gohan.. And I'm not a warrior.. Not yet anyways." He looked down as if such a statement was the ultimate shame. Bulma guessed as much that it was in such a barbaric culture. He looked up at her again in that same bright way that sent warm waves into her heart.

"Daddy says that if I train hard enough I can make my first kill within a year." The statement murdered all of the warm waves and replaced them with cold chills and a dead feeling in her stomach. She couldn't really imagine why she should be surprised. Vegeta had confided in her, if you could call blatant bragging by such a word, that he had slaughtered one of "her kind" when he was only a mere four years of age.

"It is an unimaginable honor to make your first kill," he had explained. "It is your first step of progress to manhood. To hunt alone and never return until totting the head of the enemy."

All her opinions of such a savage lifestyle were thrown to the way side by the tears forming in Gohan's round eyes. Before she could calm him, he had buried his eyes into his palms sobbing the word "Torro" several times.

"What is Torro?" she asked gently pulling him into her lap, a gesture he had hesitantly taken. She was sure he hadn't been embraced very often by the way his muscles spasmed at her touch. Still she held him firmly on her lap, pressed against her bosom as his tears flowed freely down his cheeks, a rare outbreak she was sure he had never before rewarded himself.

"Torro was my.. my father." He sniffed, looking through blurry eyes.

"He was one of the 15 slain in the outbreak. And now.. now he will never see me become the man he wanted me to be." More tears spilled down his puffy flesh though it had become evident he was trying to dissuade them.

"How do you know he will never see you again?" she asked him reassuredly. He seemed to frown in disappointment at her comment.

"Because.. I told you.. he's dead." Bulma was simply stumped. All her life she had been raised to believe that when a person is slain, they progress into an even grander kind of heaven. She should have guessed that such a belief was insolent in such a dismal place. She couldn't even award him an answer, only a shrug of apology and a shoulder to cry upon when further tears escaped.
That was how Vegeta found her when entering her articulate room. She sat in a chair rocking a young child in her arms. He immediately recognized the boy as one of the recently orphaned children he'd had the displeasure of informing of their father's death. Cold hearted as he admittedly was, the task was simply an unpleasant one. This child's session was no exception and he remembered quit clearly the grief stricken look that had quickly been over shadowed by a firm resolve to never show emotion. The kind of façade he had learned from an age unremembered. Never show the pain. Never show the hurt. Especially when they came from inside. The idea made him sick. But tradition was tradition and truth be told.. emotions made one weak.

He noticed the deep scowl on Bulma's face that immediately sent chills of pleasure running marathons up and down his spine. He loved when she was in feisty moods. It invigorated him to no end to verbally spare with her to the point when the anger set in and blessed her bright eyes with flames of rage.

"Finished torturing some God-forsaken soul in the dungeon?" She remarked slyly not even facing his direction. He grunted wishing he could have had the element of surprise on his behalf. She must have sensed his aura from the change in temperature.

"Apparently your father does not love you as much as I had believed him to. He has yet to answer my message." He stated coldly. He had no idea how deeply his words cut and Bulma was not about to allow him the satisfaction of knowing. But the truth was.. he had hit a mortally sore spot and the consequences were dire.

"He loves me enough." She stated in a dead monotone. The kind of monotone where you know a bombardment of words is just seeping from the seams to get out. But she remained silent, though he knew she longed to say much more. Apparently, he hadn't caught on to her sad attempt of a front. He was disappointed by her ignorance of him and scowled openly down at the whimpering child, still cradled pathetically in her arms.

"Stop pampering him, woman. It will make him weak." He ordered, glaring at the young boy sulking further into her chest frightened. Bulma sat the child onto his feet, allowing him to scamper out of the room before turning an icy cold gaze upon the demon.

"Why?" she demanded in a glacieritic tone.

"Are you afraid he may develop a heart Vegeta? Are you so afraid he wont be exactly like you?" She was certainly on fire today, he remarked silently to himself. Honestly though, she had managed to anger him as well as stun him with her bravery.

"What good is a heart Angel? Hmm? Having a heart certainly did not save you. look around you Princess." He nearly shouted, his short threads of a temper being snipped one by one.

"Your not in la la land anymore. Your in Hell. And no one is here to save you.. So explain to me where having a heart comes in to play a part in your being set free?" He demanded, his face close to her's. She couldn't even fathom an answer.

"Having a "heart" did not get me where I am today. I am the King of all Demons Princess. I own everything you set your eyes upon. And I am because I was raised to be. I was taught to be strong. I was taught to be the best. And in no where was I taught to have a heart!" His thunderous voice shook the walls but she refused to even reward his out break with a flinch. Rather, between us, I don't even think she noticed so caught up in anger as she was. Her teeth clinched in suppressed rage and she held her hands in tight white fists.

"Yeah.. look where you are today." She seethed sarcastically.

"Oh your really happy alright! HA! I apparently don't see you the way you see your self Oh High and mighty God of Evil. I don't see some powerful almighty King. I see a SELFISH, ARROGANT, POMPIS MONSTER!!" She screamed every word as if it was a sentence all it's own. Vegeta's eyes shrunk into tiny piercing slits.

"Some day you will wake up and realize that no matter how many battles you win. No matter how many kingdoms you conquer or women you seduce, you will always be alone." Vegeta fought hard against his rebellious hand that longed to plunge itself into her chest and rip her precious organ from her body while holding it infront of her face.

"ALONE Vegeta. You will always be alone." She nearly sobbed the words, realizing in dead truth that she could apply them to herself. Alone. She had always been it and now was finally acknowledging it. She didn't want to live like that anymore. The question was.. could she live at all anymore.

The temperature in the room had sky rocketed to enormously dangerous levels and it became clear by the pulsing blood in Vegeta's eyes, that he was fighting an inward battle over whether or not to slaughter her where she stood. So here was the breaking point of her life. The decision she knew all her life she would have to make. Did she want it? Did she want to live?................................................

"Go ahead Vegeta..

Put me out of my misery.

You coward."

Vegeta's anger reached poisonous levels until he nearly reached the breaking point of his sanity. His true demon side was scratching to be let loose and shed blood and he slowly began to let it take over before the realization of her plight made itself known. He smiled in her face, physically seeing it fall.

"It won't work Princess. I'm not going to set your father's dept free by slaughtering you." His wicked smirk grew as the first small puddles of water began to glisten upon the rims of her eyes.

"I don't give a fuck how miserable your disgusting life is." He moved closer until his mouth was near enough to her ear that his lips would graze the sensitive flesh.

"You aren't worth it."

Bulma's suicidal plight had failed. The choice had never really been her's to make. Her life had hung by his fingers like a puppet on a string begging for it's master to release it by cutting the binds and setting it free. He had denied her plea and now she was more his prisoner then every before. And so she did, what many woman do infront of men when at their wits end. She began to cry.

It was the strangest and most foreign sensation. With every sob came a sort of stabbing in his chest. What was this queer feeling? Could it be the slightest twinge of guilt? Vegeta thrust the absurd idea from his mind. He had done away with that useless emotion long ago. This much the proud demon would admit. As much as he despised her, he hated it much more when she cried.

"Why can't you just kill me Vegeta?!" she bawled. It was a heart wrenching plea.. or.. well.. it would have been if used upon a creature blessed with such an organ.

Now this was even stranger to him. The more she sobbed the more beautiful she became. Such a remarkable creation she was becoming the more he knew her. Such a mystery was this intriguing apparition of a woman. And still, in her weakened emotional state, he had the intense urge console her in the only way he knew how to console himself.

"Don't you realize how lonely I am?" she wailed broken.

Even more information had made it's way known to him. How could he not have for seen it? Not that he cared. by no mean's he demanded to himself.. but it should have been so obvious. The confined creature had felt the sting of forced isolation. In you and I terms.. She was very lonely.

Suddenly, he looked at her only to see a ruby cloven porcelain vase soaring towards his face. He dodged right in the nick of time, hearing the thick object shatter on the wall behind him and feeling the thousands of pieces collide painfully with his back and wings. Turning in awe back at her, he noticed her grabbing another, full of blood red roses, and hurling towards him yet again.

"I HAD EVERYTHING!!" She screamed throwing another.

"A MOTHER!" and another

"A FATHER!" and another

"AND YAMCHA!!" Finding no more to throw, she shrank dejectedly down into the shards of glass, slicing her bare feet. She looked pitiful, weeping bitterly and making no attempt to conceal her pain. She was definitely something a mystery to a monster who had never really witnessed such a display. Would she never cease to amaze him?

"and you took them away from me." She whispered to the floor as tears slipped down her dull cheeks, puddling on her chin before stubbornly releasing themselves in droplets to the floor. Something stirred in Vegeta's chest as he mulled over what she had just said. Jealousy?

"Who.. Who is this Yamcha?" Whoa.. he had simply horrified himself with his uncharacteristically weak tone. She met his gaze looking somewhat defeated, if indeed such a quality could ever grace itself upon such a fiery soul of a woman.

"The Prince of East Heaven who I'm going to marry." She breathed as if such a statement had simply emptied her of all remaining strength. Her swollen bottom lip trembled as if she was about to start crying again. But she didn't and it relieved him beyond belief. His gaze remained on her purplish lips wondering why the quivering creations had captured him so. She seemed not even to notice, staring blankly at him with surprisingly dead eyes. Usually so vibrant and burning, it thoroughly disturbed him to see her eyes so empty.

"Why do you care so much for him?" He half pleaded, again dispising his weakness. What could have possibly transpired to make him even give a shit?! Still, the jealousy remained, burning a pit at the bottom of his stomach and nearly rising into his throat.

"He is a mere Prince. I am a King." He stated in a commanding voice. As if such a tone could persuade her to believe his plead.

"He is nothing compared to me." He said things so firmly it was as if he could convince himself. Bulma merely stood up and walked gracefully towards him, ignoring the pain as shards of glass embedded themselves into the pads of her feet. She never left his gaze on her short journey and as she neared him a small smile appeared on her lips, completely blowing his mind as to what she could possibly be thinking. Her fingertips made themselves comfortable exploring the many wonders of the side of his face, admiring his strong cheek bone and impressive jaw line. Her touch was completely unpredicted and had most certainly caught him off guard. Still, he welcomed the contact, unexplainable as it was.

"Your right Vegeta." She whispered, dangerously close to his lips. He could feel her tempting hot breath beating against the soft flesh of his plump lips with every spoken word and wondered silently if she had any idea the effect of her closeness was having upon him.

"He isn't a King. He isn't as strong as you or as handsome." Vegeta smirked, openly acknowledging that he liked where this was going. But she removed her hand abruptly from his face, to his ultimate dismay. Walking up to the door, she ignored the puddles following behind her bleeding feet and rested her hand on the door frame, gazing at the bewildered demon.

"He is weak compared to you Vegeta. He's even weak compared to some Angels. He has scars on his face and doesn't have near the muscle definition you have." Vegeta was in his glory by her flattery. At least he was until she continued.

"But he can love Vegeta. He can love. And in this way alone.. you'll never be half the man he is."

Chapter 8

That night in bed, Vegeta tossed and turned. Despite the warmth of the two concubines huddled on top of him, he felt cold. Staring dismally at the circular ceiling above, he sighed. How long ago had it been since he had commanded Brief to paint a mural on it? Two years? Three? He still remembered it blatantly as if it were just a few days ago. The man's fallen face as he had been commanded to leave his family and perform tedious hours for the sake of art. Vegeta could not have been blamed. After all, it wasn't his fault that Brief was by far the most talented artist in the land. And he only lost three of his family members in the process. A small price to pay for the ridiculous mistakes he had made on the mural.

And now the Demon King gazed up at it, as if seeing it for the first time. The black winged cupids bow, the fallen Angel slathered in blood and the thousands of Demon's surrounding it. It was a magnificent manifestation of the fall of the first angel. The first true triumph of the Demon race. And it had taken 3 years for Vegeta to even have admired it. How had he never even noticed the remarkable craftsmanship demonstrated through the articulate scenery. The swollen swirling clouds tainted in crimson red. It was as if the sky itself was bleeding. The black trees in the distance and dry cracked ground, so much like that of Hell now. It was unfathomably detailed and had taken the man nearly a year's work. Had Vegeta even thanked him? He had figured at the time that sparing his miserable sniveling life had been enough, but now as he stared at the fierce swipes and streaks that had become a life like painting, he wondered silently if maybe it hadn't been enough.

Vegeta was openly infatuated with beauty. He required it from most of his followers and only made exceptions for a few of the most worthy warriors. Was that why he had become so obsessive over the Angel? She may not have known it and he wasn't sure even he did, but he held her in high regard. He looked out for her, and not simply for the reason that she was his hostage. He admired her beauty and saw it as a waste to have such a rare characteristic shattered. But sometimes, especially now, he wondered if it was only for her appearance that he spared her the curse of his fury. How strange it was that he had not retaliated her abrasive attack during the day. Possibly, he told himself, it was shock that had held the monster inside at bay. No one had ever treated him with such fearless disrespect. Truth be told it disturbed him how comfortable she seemed to be with him. And had she really wanted him to kill her?

For reasons unbeknownst to him, the idea made him sick to his stomach. Oh sure.. he'd had his rise and falls, but had the thought of suicide ever crossed his mind? He figured it hadn't. The Demon King would die with honor. Not in such a cowardice, mindless waste of life. Besides.. there had always been a way out for him. He could have any one destroyed whom he so much as wished and it was done. But the Princess, she was helpless in her cause and ..between us.. the thought that her family had not sent a response stunned him as well as it had her.

But it was not these thoughts that had kept the brave dark warrior from rest in this night. Tossing and turning beneath the slippery red sheets and the weight of the women, he remained restlessly awake and in utter turmoil with himself. It was what she had said that kept him from the bond of healthy rest.

So he couldn't love. So what? What could he have said? That she was wrong? That was what had bothered him in the first place. And so he had replied nothing and simply let her flee from the messed room, her bleeding feet padding the marble as she left.

How was it that such qualities as mercilessness, strength and power that he had coated on him self with pride made him feel empty now. Inadequate. Why did he feel so unworthy in her presence, simply because he didn't possess the qualities she did? So he didn't agree with her values and beliefs. Did that make him less of a man? He had been brought up as a true demon and a Prince, neither requiring the useless qualities that she held in such regard. He had been raised with the goal of being the best, constantly out of reach, simply because the family birth right had been awarded to his insolent brother. And now that he had stolen it away.. was it even worth it?

And why oh why was he jealous!? It was definitely not an emotion he had tasted in a long time. There had never been a woman he could not attain with a simple gesture of the hand, or a raised eyebrow. He was on the women's most wanted list and still it seemed not even to phase her. His conceited air and open confidence had done nothing to make her desire him. The genes running through his blood had provided him with an uncanny appearance and it wasn't as if he wasn't completely aware. He knew it. Every one did. So why not her? She never looked at him as anything more than any other demon. She never bowed her head in respect, though he'd never asked her to. And the look.. You know.. that kind of.. mmmm.mmm.mmmmmm! look that women get in their eyes when they see something they want. Well.. it wasn't there. Nothing. Only once had he ever even seen her acknowledge she wasn't asexual and that had been when she was speaking of her Prince.

Her Prince. Bah! The idea sickened him. The sniveling, pompous little prick. He didn't deserve her. No.. Vegeta never had seen the man.. but this much he knew. She deserved a King. Not some hormonally challenged little boy. She needed a man. Not.. uhh.. saying that he was that man.. NO! By all means No! he told himself. What a preposterous idea. She wasn't good enough to even play with. She was nothing more then a weak minded fool who was too stupid to even acknowledge the power he held over her. He could do whatever, and I mean whatever he wanted to her and no one but no one would ever say a thing about it. Somehow she seemed oblivious to this fact, results of a naïve way of life. But still.. he did respect her in a rare way. Her passion for balance in the Universe was the driving force behind her fiery will. He could admire her courage. He could associate with the passion.

A sob interrupted his thoughts. Had he really just heard such a sound? Had he simply imagined it? He sat so silently, he could hear the fierce winds outside smashing relentlessly against the stone castle. Finally forgetting the incident and deciding it was simply his imagination, he laid his head back down into the soft pillow underneath. But there it was again, and nothing could convince him otherwise. That sob was coming from the Princess's chambers.

Vegeta tore out of bed, throwing the sleeping women to the floor. Ignoring their cries at impact with the cold marble, he half flew to her room. Was she being hurt? Who could have gotten in? He was completely on edge. He flung her large wooden doors apart and rampaged the dark room. No one was there. He could only see her, wrapped and tangled beneath her black crushed velvet covers.

Cautiously, he made his way over to the large gaudy canopy bed. His large bare feet slapping humorlessly against the smooth marble, he made a mental note to have a fire place installed in her room. It was much too cold for a mere woman. And it wasn't as if she had company in her bed as he preferred. Perhaps he should look into getting her a few male concubines. The idea put a rare smile on his lips. He doubted such a prude woman, as she was, would even know how to draw pleasure from such useful creatures. Though, the idea had merit. He was sickly curious just how influential he could be.. even on a creature of light. He would have to present the idea to her at a later time.

At the moment, he was mainly entrapped with concern at her flailing form, grasping the sheets with white knuckles. Heart forsaken sobs retched from her mouth and she seemed to be crying.. though her eyes remained dry. A twisted look was planted upon her decorative face. She was visibly upset, though still fast asleep.

"Vegeta.." he could have sworn she gasped.. though she was making many ungraspable moans and mumbles.

"No.. no Vegeta don't!" Alright.. that much had come out clear. He half smiled. So she was battling him even in her dreams. She truly did despise him, though the thought did rattle him a bit. She must have sensed a chill in the air from his presence, for she began to shiver, still sobbing almost wildly.

Hesitantly, the demon pushed aside the sheer black material encircling her bed. He sat lightly by her side, watching as her small form battered this way and that against her enemy. Against him. Should he wake her? Truth be told.. he could have sat there all night. There was nothing sexual about it.. simply said.. he was an admirer of beauty and her appearance provided such pleasure. The dark shadows seeping through the material, cascaded across her pale skin. Very little light was seen from the window, as Hell's moon was as pale and dull as could be expected. Still, with his supreme eyesight he could see every detail of her poreless skin. Every little crevice that a normal man could never see. He grinned at her nightgown. He had especially chosen it for her, when the royal seamstress had provided him with a choice. He could still see the gleam in the man's eye when he had smirked and insisted on having only the skimpiest clothing offered. Even though the man was openly gay, even he could not deny the Princess's innocent appeal. And so there she feverously slept, clad in a dark red, thigh high nightgown. It wasn't particularly low cut, though for some reason just about everything she wore appeared that way. Neither were the straps embarrassingly thin. The fact that is was incredibly tight was what held the most appeal in his eyes.

But not long he had stared at her, when he decided to end her restless torture and awaken her to her even more tragic reality.

He couldn't have even brushed her face, when she bolted up right, and wrapped her arms around his neck. His body tensed in reflex to the threatening act and decided it was her sad attempt to hurt him. The gesture was an empty threat and obviously was a failed attempt to do her enemy harm. But then.. as quickly as the ignorant idea had come.. it went. This was no attack.. She needed him. She needed to feel the touch of another being. To be consoled and protected in a moment of utter weakness. Slowly, he placed his hands on the small of her back as she began to bawl on his bare shoulder. He could feel the wetness seeping from her eyes and cascading down his smooth chest but made no attempt to remove it. She needed him to remain calm right now and he decided to at least award her that amount of honor.

"Vegeta!" she sobbed hysterically. This angel would never cease to surprise him with her unpredictable outbreaks.

"I'm so sorry!" She burst out. "About everything. Everything I.. I did.. Everything I said.. I'm so sorry." He wasn't sure he'd made out much in the muffled babble but this much he knew. She had said she was sorry. He simply didn't know how to respond. Would the drama never cease?!

"Sorry?" he whispered so gently it surprised himself.. Damn this woman for making him seem so weak. As much as he respected her.. he also loathed himself around her.

"About what Angel?" he asked sternly, pulling back slightly to remove the matted hair from her drenched eyes.

"You were right." He admitted. Had he really just said that? Bah! Cursed Angel.

"No.. " she sobbed, still on the verge of becoming mentally incapacitated.

"No I wasn't. I was wrong to say such things. So.. so." oh boy.. here it comes..

"So.. so WRONG!" she sobbed uncontrollably. Must she make such a racket? Had she no honor? What if someone else heard such pitiful sobbing? It was bad enough that she was weak in body.. weak in mind was almost worse. She began to convulse wildly, her body wracked by vicious sobs. It really bothered him to see her this way.

"Woman.." he announced only mildly harsh. "You are going to wake the entire castle." Since he had nothing else to offer in consolation for her obvious disillusioned state, he attempted to calm her with tedious practicality. It failed miserably.

"OH! I don't care!" She hollered horsely. Apparently her voice had been resting far more than she.. for it sounded icy and unused. Vegeta was getting some kind of strange kick out of seeing her in such a hysterical state of emotion. It just wasn't like her to be so open about her wrongs.. though he remarked only in his mind that she had made her share of mistakes, none of which she had ever felt the need to apologize for.

"And I lied to you Vegeta." She wailed. Now this was unexpected. That little statement had certainly tipped his curiosity.

"I lied when I said my mom got sick. The truth is.." she openly attempted to calm herself, her face still buried deep into his neck as if she were trying to conceal her it. He warm breath tickled against his skin but he ignored it completely infatuated with her recent words.

"Your father killed my mom. She had agreed to secretly meet him with hope's of making a treaty. He came unexpectedly early and I.. I saw it all.. I saw everything.." Her eyes.. though he couldn't see them, held a haunted look about them.

"I was just too scared to tell you.. cuz.. cuz I thought you'd be mad at me." She made like she would begin crying again but at the last moment caught herself and embedded her face even farther into his embrace. It had been so long since she had experienced physical contact.

"Oh.. That." He relaxed. "I knew you had lied." Bulma pulled back slightly to see into his eyes. They remained their usual dead orbs.

"You.. (sniff) .. did?"

"Yes.. " he said again pushing the irritating hair from her face. Her expressions held a certain form of almost disbelief. He rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on Princess. Don't you think after all these weeks I would know when your lying? I can read you like a book." He bragged with a false front of confidence. It was actually an incredible lie. He had no idea what she was thinking at this point. She noticeably stiffened.

"Why are you here?" she asked as if finally coming to the realization that she was awake and in the arms of her bare chested enemy.

"You were crying in your sleep." He remarked haughtily. "Someone had to come and shut you up, you would have woken the entire palace idiot." He decided he'd had enough of the weakness and decided it was time to compensate it with his normal cutting remarks. He had been in a momentary trance and was insistent on coming out of it. He removed his hands from her back, as she removed her's from his muscular shoulders, both staring dumbly at the other, dwelling on the consequences ahead for such a moment of weakness.

"I was having a nightmare." She stated softly. He had expected her to reply with her normal fury at being so insulted. But yet again she had thrown him for a loop.

"You.. you died." She whispered in disbelief, staring almost in horror at his blank eyes. Her hand wavered to her mouth.

"Sounds more like a dream." He grunted dryly in a smirk all his own. Still, he did feel a bit hurt, but decided to keep his voice flat as not to alert her to the miserable feelings of insecurity he had had for himself all night. But she shook her head.

"No....A nightmare.....You.. .. saved me. And then you died. I.. I tried to stop you. But you died.." her voice cracked in the end and fresh tears welled up into her red rimmed eyes. Covering her mouth with her hand to stifle the sobs, she looked simply pitiful..

Vegeta was besides himself with awe. His death truly hurt her. He'd almost cried out in pure shock, if he hadn't been sure such a demonstration would frighten her. After all that had befallen her in his name, his life still had meaning to her. Should he really feel so honored as he did? But it wasn't enough. He needed to calm her. To repay her for such an honor. To.. "console" her in one of the only ways he knew how. A way he knew would put a smile on her face and keep her in a better mood, oblivious to the black world surrounding her.

"Must everything in your life be so dramatic woman?" he rolled his eyes.

"Forget the incessant drama.. It's ruining you. Come with me." He offered his hand and she hesitantly took it before being whisked out of the room.

"This will be an experience you'll never forget."

Chapter 9

They sped through the dark hallways on a mysterious course. Where was he taking her? What was going on? Apparently he had entirely forgotten the fact that her feet had been savagely cut the day before, for he rushed her through endless corridors as if the devil was at his heels. ( But then.. haha.. I suppose that was an impossibility since he couldn't have been chasing himself. )

But running as fast as they were, she hardly noticed the pain for the speed he rushed in made her feel like she was gliding. She figured it hadn't even occurred to him to put a shirt on. No.. she'd seen men exposing their chest before, but this was just an entirely different experience. He was built like a statue. You know.. the kind with perfect bodies you were brought to believe didn't really exist. A slime waist, with perfectly sculpted abs she was sure he'd never worked a day in his life to acquire. He had the stomach men work out years for before sporting proudly, but then again she was sure the blood running through his royal veins had taken it's part in such a display. His chest was marvelously chiseled and his rock hard arms beautifully created. He had the perfect physique and obviously had no intention of hiding such a gift. She was almost glad he didn't, though she kept scolding herself for gawking. He wasn't ridiculously huge with bulging neck veins and ugly muscle strains. He retained the slim stature and held himself in high posture. She fought hard not to blush at his incredible back and shoulders, sporting his awe inspiring wings.

"Vegeta!" she begged. The confusion and suspense was simply mind boggling.

"Where are you taking me?" She didn't recognize any of her surroundings. It was almost impenetrably dark and only with him speedily guiding her did she not loose herself in the shadows. She longed to grasp against a wall for balance as he was nearly running too fast for her to contain her footing. The pads of her feet were beginning to burden her, and she suspected she had not removed all of the glass, fearing some still remained imbedded into the soft flesh. Her failing eyesight caught a glimpse of a picture mounted on the blackened wall. Imprisoned in a thick golden rim, she could just make out Vegeta smirking at her. He appeared much older and encased in shadows along his eyes. It was only for a second before the darkness entangled the painting, that she caught a glimpse of the rim of a beard. A beard? She'd seen the Demon King scruffy at times, and with the familiar hang over shadow enveloping his chin but never with a thick line of facial hair.

And that's when it hit her. That wasn't Vegeta, but none other than his treacherous father. She glared at the quickly escaping rim of the frame before it entirely disappeared from sight. She wished the bastard was still alive so that she could kill him herself. She didn't even curse her conscience with feeling guilty over such thoughts. What did it matter anymore? Her father had forgotten her and her fiancée couldn't give a damn about her absence. He was probably screwing some palace whore as they scurried through the palace. She had been betrayed. So what use was it to condemn the feelings of pure hatred if those who had entrusted such a conscience into her had ultimately forsaken her. So what if she was an angel? Fuck them all.

"Vegeta!" she groaned as her side began to ache. He glared back at her. And though he seemed to be oblivious to the fact that he was still holding her hand, being a girl.. well she just wasn't. She felt a little flustered about the entire ordeal. Here she was being rushed through the castle of Hell, her arch enemy totting her around by the hand, all the while cursing her very existence. But damn if she was going to reject the proposition of keeping her mind off of her dark depression.

"Quiet woman!" He whispered harshly. But then there came a sideward smirk tugging at his lips.

"I told you I'd make you forget the drama. Just trust me." Trust him? Did he really just say that? So was this his plan? To prance around the entire castle so as to make her forget her sad state in life? Well he could forget it.. It wasn't helping and only making her tired. But just as soon as she had decided to voice her drastic opinion, he halted making her topple into him at full speed. It was incredibly embarrassing. Almost as bad as waking up with her arms around him sobbing like lunatic. He only glared down at her and putting his finger to his lips, gesturing for her to be quiet. He walked semi-tiptoed towards a large door, opened about a foot.

He braved a quick glance through, and then turned to her with a disturbing smile planted on his face. He was up to something..

Gesturing her again for silence, he cracked the door open farther only causing a small squeak from the rusty holders, and crept quietly through. For lack of a better plan, she took a deep breath and continued after him. She was only mildly afraid of what may lie ahead. What could possibly be more frightening then Vegeta anyways? He was the strongest being alive. But there was an undeniably mischievous smile on his face and it only served to tempt her curiosity further.

She would have gasped at the large brightly lit room if it weren't for Vegeta's piercing stare that quieted her mouth. She glances around at what she guessed was a banquet hall of some sort. Large red pillars circled around the large bright room. From what she could see from behind the demon, the massive hall was beautiful. No. It wasn't heavily decorated with the usual immense sculptures of demon Gods and fallen warriors. It was quite simple, if I dare say so. It was the floor and the ceiling that groped her attention.

The floor was a deep burgundy, not the usual blood red color she had begun to tire of. It was a luscious color, prohibited by a lacing of rich gold around the edges. Deep, thick mounds of black swirled elaborate shapes and designs in the middle. It was simply different and that was what held it's obvious appeal to her.

Now the ceiling was a different matter. Glancing upwards, it completely took her breath away. And Vegeta observed her reaction with a light gleam in his eye, she hadn't noticed. It was blue. Marvelous, luscious, beautiful blue! My stars she had missed it's sweetness. So appeasing to the eyes, it invoked a warm feeling that swelled into her belly and gave her the fond sense of home. She had the sudden urge to hold out her arms and spin beneath it's alluring grace, if she hadn't been sure Vegeta would have scorned her for such childish reaction. As it was, she was completely spell bound with it's capture.

But it was not only the beautiful azure color that mounded her glory. The painting inside was beyond belief and tears flew to her eyes. She covered her mouth to silence the sob that tried to escape. It was her mother.

Standing amongst bright puffy clouds, the beautiful Angelic Queen wore a fresh smile and bright blue eyes beamed down at her only daughter. She was painted with furious hand strokes that had captured every flawlessly beautiful hint of passion that only in life had she held. A delicate hand was placed over her heart, as if drawing special attention to the dark ruby stone hanging from an unfamiliar necklace. The fact that Bulma had never seen her mother wearing such a beautifully morbid piece of jewelry, never even touched her mind, so caught up in the appearance of her mother's smile as she was. It was as if she were alive, peering down towards her crying daughter. She wore a long white gown, wisped by a furious wind. Her beautiful blonde hair flying in front of her face made Bulma want to reach out and stroke away the tedious strands.

Vegeta observed the Angel's reaction with extreme hurt. He had thought she would be pleased to see the momentum to her mother that his father had ordered to be painted before he died. Not that he did anything for her pleasure.. No.. Vegeta certainly had no intention of removing the dark clouds that seemed to over shadow the Princess. Of course not, he told himself. He quite simply couldn't have whimpering woman disturbing his rest any longer. Try as he might, he really couldn't convince himself. He had wanted to surprise her. To . make her smile again. It seriously bothered him, he had only seen it once. And only then was it directed towards that blubbering little orphaned brat. Her reaction displeased him and he watch in contained anger as she sank to her knees, still facing upwards.

Bulma held her hands tightly over her mouth to silence the sobs that began to wrack her entire body. She was quaking all over, her small shoulders shaking up and down. To her surprise Vegeta came to kneel next to her, a strange look planted on his unreadable face. Was he?.... Was he upset? The idea unnerved her. He bore an almost concerned look as his eyebrows tilted slightly, very slightly, upwards.

"What's wrong with you?" He nearly demanded. He didn't mean to sound so cold, but her actions were so queer to him. Honestly.. the woman insisted on crying over everything. He couldn't even remember a time when seeing someone bawling over something less than losing their life. Lately, he'd witnessed enough meaningless bawling fits to last him eternity.

"I thought you would like it, woman. So why do you continue to whimper over it?" Again with the harsh words. Why couldn't he just keep quiet and let the pathetic creature blubber until she hadn't the strength to keep it up any more.

Suddenly, she gasped and through her tears a gorgeous smile graced her features. She flung her arms around his neck and squeezed as hard as he ever imagine she could. He had thought this creature was weak? She was almost straggling him!

For once in his wretched life, the proud Demon King was at a complete loss for words beneath her pressured embrace. She didn't know what had come over her but at the moment she didn't give a damn. He had given her the most precious gift anyone could have ever presented. He had reunited her with her mother. She pressed her cheek against his, still sobbing relentlessly.

"Oh Vegeta!" She cried into his ear. It was just quiet enough not to shatter his ear drum.

"Oh Vegeta it's not that. It's just so beautiful." She gasped almost hoarsely.

"So why are you shedding those ridiculous tears again?" He asked curiously pulling back enough to look at her face. She glared falsely at him, still smiling through blurry eyes and quivering lips.

"Oh.. stupid!" she half laugh, half sobbed. "They're tears of joy. I'm happy." A supreme look of confusion possessed his face as he tried to decipher what exactly these "tears of joy" meant.

"I had. " she smiled with tears gathering once again in her eyes. Her top lip curled up, while she tried to stop herself from crying again. She gasped giving in to the tears.

"I'd forgotten .. " she gasped again. "I'd forgotten what she looked like." She started crying again but this time Vegeta wrapped her up in a bear hug and let her sob into his throat.

She sat there crying into his soft flesh, thinking only how much she needed this right now. She needed the comfort. Even if it was coming from her enemy. And at this point, she reasoned that perhaps he wasn't her enemy. So she sat there for fifteen minutes, digging her nails subconsciously in to his back and sobbing. He must have thought she was simply the biggest idiot alive but she didn't care. At least he was there. At least he set aside his pride for one moment and subjected himself to her torture. He had to despise the situation he was in.

Vegeta loved the situation he was in. (Ha ha ha!) Here he was, doing nothing but allowing her to cry and she had run full fledge into his arms. He adored the way her body seemed to mold to his. He had done nothing but hold her and she had completely subjected herself to him. So.. the frigid virgin wasn't completely unattainable. He chuckled to himself. He may have respected her, but coming from him, that wasn't saying much.

When it seemed the mass of hysteria had ebbed, he unwrapped her from his arms and stared disapprovingly at her. She looked down unable to meet his gaze. It was simply piercing and intimidated her. She had shown him her weakest side and wasn't sure what he'd make of it. A small smile suddenly tugged at his dark lips, totally throwing her off. It was as if an imaginary light had gone off in his head, and his dead black eyes suddenly shown very brightly. Smirking in that mischievous grin I love, he pulled her to her feet, only mildly gentle.

"I thought I told you to let go of the drama." He scolded, though it was clear to her that his purpose in speaking to her wasn't for such a meager reason. She waited until he had composed his thoughts to look into his eyes and allow him to continue.

"How about I show you some real fun?" He chuckled with a wink.

Chapter 10

"Have some fun? What do you mean?" She asked. He was such a mystery. She simply couldn't figure him out. One minute he was ready to exterminate her from existence and the next he was pitying her in his arms and giving her presents. He was so puzzling she figured she'd never understand or be able to predict him. But that was Vegeta for you. Always one to shock and please.

And so again they were roaming the endless hallways in search of a way to rid her of her "drama" as he so kindly referred to it. What was she to do? Pretend her life was one big fucking party after another? Well it wasn't. Why should she even try to kid herself into thinking it was anything less than pathetic and .a lot of the time, just down right scary. But then again.. she had been feeling sorry for herself a lot and dwelling far too much on the downsides of life.

"Always the questions with you Princess. Why can't you simply just trust me? It's not like I couldn't have already killed you a thousand times over by now if I wanted to Angel." She glared overly fiercely. I mean.. he was just stating facts. So what if they weren't pretty? She needed to get used to him. Apparently, the way things were looking, she'd be with him for quite some time and it was probably a good idea to just be blunt. He considered himself the most honorable demon alive and was deadly honest. He refused to hide the fact that he'd slaughter his own father and basically stolen the crown from his brother. Sure.. other demon's knew the throne was never rightfully his. So what? It was his nonetheless and for his ruthlessness he was feared and respected. He would have it no other way.

"Bulma. BULMA!" she barked at him, still following close behind as they wandered through a large meeting hall.

"What?" he sneered. Yes.. yes.. he knew perfectly well what she meant. But did he intend on passing up a perfectly good excuse to piss her off?.. oh he thought not!

"Bulma.. That's my name."

"And where exactly is the part where I'm supposed to give a shit?" he chuckled. So.. the bastard had fooled her. He knew perfectly well what her name was. Damn him.

"VEGETA!" she hollered, halting her speed walk. She placed her hands angrily on her hips, giving him her best scowl. He only grinned, making her grit her teeth.

"If you knew my name all along, why don't you ever use it!?" she seethed through her teeth.

"All you ever call me is Princess, Angel or Woman.. Can we get anymore barbaric? You sound like a complete savage you know." She informed him haughtily. Strutting dangerously near to her, he bent down so that his face lingered a mere inch from her own, noses almost touching.

"Oh? Well.. maybe I like being savage." He raised an eyebrow. "Besides," he brushed her off, walking away. "Some thing tells me you'd like it rough." He snickered. He doubted she had any idea what he was implying.

What the FUCK was he implying?

"I'm sure I have no idea what your talking about Vegeta. And I'm almost positive I don't want to." She held her nose excessively high in the air, strutting past him snobbishly. Only a true Princess could pull off that little routine! Ha! Let him catch her off guard now!

He slipped an arm possessively around her slim waste and smashed her forcefully against his chest, beaming down at her with a devilish smirk only HE could pull off. He chuckled flashing his silvery fangs.

Damn him.. he'd done it again.

"Oh? So sure are you? Well.. " he raised his thick eyebrows. "Something tells me that sooner or later.. your BOUND to figure it out. I just hope I'm the one doing all the informing." He laughed.. a deep throaty sound that bounced off the walls in the large porcelain room, they now inhabited.

She stared wide eyed at him, trying hard not to let on that she'd just had the sickest idea that she knew EXACTLY what he was proposing. Pushing out her bottom lip, she glared at him.

"Let me go Vegeta." He only smirk, tightening his grip until she was forced to place her hands against his bare chest and try to push herself away. The entire display was ridiculous and she knew it.

"I said let me go Vegeta!" she ordered fiercely. He shrugged, lessening his grip gradually before setting her free to totter away from him.

"Whatever you say.. Bulma." He rolled his eyes sarcastically. Suddenly her hand was grasped by his and she caught him looking VERY intently at her body.

"But someday.. you won't tell me to let go.." he beamed.

"Someday you'll scream for me."
Before entering through a pair of enormous double doors, Vegeta silenced her with his fingers. She couldn't figure out why exactly she had continued following him but had privately decided it would probably be better than roaming the unfamiliar hallways all night alone. She tried to sneak a peak through the small crack of the open door. It couldn't have been more then a foot open but Vegeta pushed her back with his arm, looking disapprovingly at her.

"Don't be so obvious." He whispered close to her. "I told you we were having fun."

Bulma wasn't sure she'd like his idea of "having fun" but remained quietly behind him as told. Slowly he peaked his head around the door frame and returned looking incredibly sly.

"Look in there." He told her. "But be quiet when you do."

Curiously, she poked her head cautiously through the doors and beheld a medium sized room. It wasn't lit very well and there were some corners she couldn't see. All in all though.. for the immense palace, it was pretty plain.. Same common red walls and black marbled floor. But not far from where she stood, a fat long haired Demon sat hunched back into his small chair. She was simply amazed that under his extreme weight, the pressured chair hadn't crumpled. He was huge! His entire face was embedded in his double chin, as he lay far back in his chair with his pudgy little hands resting on his chunky stomach.

She'd never seen a demon so hideous. For the most part, the race was built sleek and graceful. Their powerful bodies and beautiful faces over shadowed by enormous wings. This demon only possessed two, hardly useful wings perched on his back, hunched against his little chair as he slept.. On guard duty.

Feeling his hard chest press against her back, Bulma looked up to see Vegeta gazing through the doors as well. Was he mad that this lazy was sleeping on the job? Would he punish him? A large mischievous smirk, made itself known, as his hand slithered to her own and laid on top of it. She was a loss for words and figured it was probably for the best since he had commanded ultimate silence from her. Lifting his hand, and taking hers prisoner along with it, he pointed his index finger at the chubby man.

"Watch this." For a split second a small ball began to form in front of his finger and she had to force herself not to gasp. Suddenly, the red sphere of energy shot forth and she feared he had aimed his incredible ball of power at the poor unsuspecting man.

One of the legs of the chair burst into flying specks of wood and the fat man was dropped like a potato to the hard ground. Bulma was stunned for a split second, before covering her mouth to halt the burst of laughter that had bubbled forth.

The huge man cursed, rudely awakened from his slumber. He found himself sitting on the cold hard floor, his ass throbbing. What the? Glancing beneath him, he caught sight of the familiar chair leg.

"EVERY DAMN TIME!" he swore, violently kicking the weak, shattered chair pieces scurrying across the slick floor. It was then that he heard the sound. Like a muffled snort of laughter. His eyebrows furrowed suspiciously, before he charged the doors and flung them open. He gave the dark surroundings a once over. Nothing but darkness. No one at all. He grunted in frustration, before stomping back into his room where he took up his guarding post once more, leaning angrily against the wall.

"Must have been my imagination." He mumbled, resting his large head against the stone wall.

They had heard the fat man's grumble from outside the room, positioned against the wall. Vegeta was shielding them with his large outstretched black wings, camouflaging them into the shadows, his hands on either side of Bulma's head. The fat fool hadn't even seen them, despite the idiot Princess's poorly hidden bought of laughter. Truth be told, he'd almost burst out himself. This was by far one of his favorite night games, although he'd never played with anyone else. It was actually funner sharing the humor with someone else to appreciate it. He waited a second longer than he figured he really needed, peering deeply into her wet eyes.

She'd almost fallen on her ass laughing. And now suppressing the urge to burst into howling laughter had forced more tears into her eyes. COULD SHE EVER STOP?! Was this every angel's curse? A never ending supply of liquid in the eyes? But this display was not so disturbing as the others. It almost made the whole experience funnier.

"Ah.. Yajirobe.. by far the most entertaining of my guards." He whispered. She stifled even more chuckles beneath her hand.

"Do you think we could do it one more time?" she asked with wide eyes. She looked so adorable. Even to him! Grinning he leaned even closer than their already tight stance.

"I can do it .. all night long." He joked. Well.. actually it was quit true in one sense, but he knew she meant the torturing of the guard instead of his thinking. She smirked, knowing damn good and well what he meant. She was beginning to catch on to his innuendo and didn't mind at all. He was incredibly entertaining tonight and she knew full well she was seeing a side to him no one else even knew existed. She liked this side.

"Alright then. Let's see if you can" she lifted an eye brow seductively, "do it one more time."

He smirked grateful for her understanding. He was having an extreme influence on her and he knew it wouldn't be long until he could basically have her eating out of the palm of his hand. Just like everyone else. She'd be his slave before it even hit her that it had been his plan all along. And by then, he smirked, it'd be too late.

Tip toeing over to the door, he gestured for her to follow. Braving a peep into the room, he caught sight of a snoring Yajirobe planted against the wall. He hadn't really expected the man to fall asleep so quickly. He'd done this a million times before and it usually took about a good ten minutes before the bum drifted off.

So what was Vegeta planning now? There was no chair anymore. His first little prank had taken care of that. All that remained of the once proud piece of wood, was splinters scattered across the floor. So now there was no leg to shoot out from under him. Or was there? Vegeta wouldn't..

As he pointed his finger towards the man, Bulma shrieked and attempted to grab his arm. A single line of energy escaped his finger, going directly in the place intended.

"HA!" The falsely asleep man screamed! He'd been faking the entire time and now observed two vague faces peering at him through the opened door.

"I caught you this time you-" he was cut off as a large piece of cement landed atop his head, a piece of a stone gargoyle that had once been placed along the wall above.

The two face's eyes widened horribly before they scattered, bumping into each other in their confused flurry. But the rock hard piece of stone hadn't been enough to knock him out and he'd be damned if he let the two culprits flee unmaimed. He scurried after them, barging through the doors and following the two running shadows, not far ahead of him. Turning a corner, he let out a stream of curses as he saw nothing. So the Bonnie and Clyde duo had escaped again. Damn them to Hell.. uhh.. AGAIN!.

Far above the swearing man, Bulma straddled Vegeta's slim waist beneath her. He was holding them suspended in the air.. His thick wings shielding them as he held her back against the ceiling. He couldn't look down and seemed completely at ease to gaze into her wide eyes. Her weight wasn't much, but having every single part of her body pressed tightly against his was sort of unnerving. His hands and toes were pressed against the ceiling, as the rest of his body was against her's. It was incredibly sexual although not intended. Yajirobe would have killed her for such a prank and he didn't need rumors flying around about nighttime practical jokes. He was far too respected for such an embarrassing account. Still, the entire situation was humorous beyond all logic.

Bulma was beside her self. She wanted to laugh at the hilarious encounter they had shared. She wanted to be freed from this embarrassing posture. She wanted mostly to kiss the dark creature so close to her.

Was that the look? No way. It had been there for a second.. Had it not? The darkness was playing tricks on him. For a split second there he'd gotten the arousing sensation that the angel, sprawled out on top of him, wanted to be kissed. But just as soon as he was confirming the suspicion and moving in for the kill.. it was gone. Had it even been there in the first place? Or was it treacherous wishful thinking? Damn if he knew. But now only a blank expression bore into him and the demon decided the coast was clear.

Damn him.. Damn herself. Why did he have to be so.. AH! And why did she have to get so.. AH! It was so frustrating. She'd never, NEVER wanted to grab someone and attack their mouth like that before. Sure..she and Yamcha kissed. A LOT. They didn't do much else, but only because she held him at bay with a ten foot pole most times. So why did she feel like tearing down all the protective reserves and take his beautiful full lips into her own? The feeling was so foreign to her. Was Hell having this effect on her? Was HE having this effect on her? But she had to compose herself, planting a false look of calm reserve on her face when inside she was tearing at the seams to get at this handsome creature between her thighs.

Not long after her reserves were replaced did he let her down, gently and slowly. Saying nothing, they walked side by side in complete silence through the cold corridors and hall ways. Bulma had no idea where they were, the castle was so huge, and suspicions told her neither did Vegeta. For he wore a confused face and avoided looking at her.

What was she thinking? He wished he knew. She was the biggest riddle in the entire universe. Heaven and Hell. So did she want him? Had she succumb to him finally? If not.. how much longer would the tedious task be? And what if it never came? Could he handle the rejection? He'd never tasted it's poison before but could imagine the consequences if he ever did. Blood, guts and asses would be flying everywhere! He got what he wanted. And what he wanted right now was simple.. Not too much to ask. He wanted her.. to want him.

('I want him,') . 'no I don't' . ('oh please, yes I do') .. 'please God don't let me' .. ('why should I even deny it') .. 'uhh.. cuz it's wrong'..('is it? Why?').'because I love Yamcha.'. ('oh yeah'). It was as if her insides were telling her two different things. She felt like she had a split personality from the tormenting battle raging within. And so.. being fond of self control. she ignored them both, simply walking along side her tormentor.

'hmmm. guess I'll just have to pull out all the stops.' He told himself with a smirk.

Where was he off to now? And that familiar devilish gleam in his eyes? Oh boy.

He led her into a small room.. the smallest she'd been in since she'd unwillingly inhabited the castle. It wasn't excessively small.. nothing in the place was. It was just that every other room seemed to be needlessly elaborated and large. The room was cozy, much warmer then the rest of the castle with a small controlled fire burning in the far right corner. It cast a comfortable glow across the Victorian decorated room. A talented statue sat in the corner, a blackened sculpture of a beautiful woman, only it seemed as it the arms had been cut off. It appeared incredibly old but still miraculously intact.

The rest of the room could be likened to that of a bar.. with a large island in the middle and small wooden stools placed around it. On the island was a breath taking amount of what she considered some sort of food, each plate holding a different colored assortment, although different from the regular ordurves Vegeta had sent to her room every night. Each small ramekin held a certain type of luxury. One contained several small bright red balls, each with a stem extending from them.

"Cherries." He informed her. "Maraschino Cherries."

It seemed he wanted her to comply with him and try one, and so, bravely, she reached out and plucked one from the dish, popping it into her mouth stem and all.

He supposed he should have told her not to eat the entire thing, but it was fun to watch her make an idiot out of herself, so he watched in comical resolve.

Her mouth was exploding in flavor. The plump.."cherry" seemed to burst in her mouth, accompanied by rivers of flowing juice, seeping into every crevice of her mouth and taunting ever taste bud. It was hard to describe the flavor as she chewed, forcing more and more of the glorious juices out of the marvelous creation. It was so.. sweet. Nothing like bland food in Heaven. This creation was made for pleasure and she was simply rolling in it as she popped one cherry after another into her ravenous mouth.. Had it really been that long since she'd eaten? It had been an eventful day and she supposed she hadn't consumed anything since early morning when one of her barbaric hermaphrodite servants had reluctantly slapped it on her bed stand.

And so she ate every single one, her eyes searching for another heaping plate of them amongst the many ramekins also on the table. Finding none, her bottom lip sagged and she felt entirely let down, her taste buds begging for more.

In front of her, Vegeta smirked, holding out a case of brown bars. None of them looked even the slightest bit appetizing in comparison with the marshmallow cherries or whatever they were called.

"So tell me Princess," he chuckled making her tense nervously, "Have you ever tried chocolate?"

Shaking her head, he laughed, intimidatingly showing off his abnormal fangs.

"Well then," he grinned wickedly. "You must. It's really quite.." he cocked his head to the side.

"Sinful."

Chapter 11

"Chocolate?" What a strange name. She eyed the presented bar cautiously. Personally, she'd rather have moved on to the other commodities positioned on the table, but decided he may have been insulted at the decline. And so, not wanting to appear rude, she took the small, hard form into her hand and bit down.

The food was hard and she had remote difficulty biting a piece off. When finally successful, she mold over the strange creation noting how it strangely seemed to melt in her mouth. Now how exactly would you describe the taste of chocolate? I am finding myself at a loss for words worthy enough to detail the strange sensation. I will say this.. she was deeply impressed. It had an identifiable flavor that she new she could never pass up again. The sweetness was incredibly rewarding but not unpleasantly over killed.

"Oh God!" she proclaimed with her mouth full. "It's absolutely sinful!"

He gave her that looked that was seeping with "Well duh!", before chewing a piece himself. Privately, chocolate had always been his personal favorite, even as a young Prince he had ordered it delivered to his room daily. He sighed out loud, condensing the once proud bar into smooth liquid form. He had always gotten what he wanted. One way or another. He'd wanted chocolate.. it was his. He wanted someone killed.. consider it done. He'd wanted a woman.. she was his before the night was over. Even when he'd desired the throne, he'd gotten it out of courage and strength. He could only think of two things that he'd ever even lost, neither of which he would ever speak of to another living soul.

But her.. she wasn't so easy. He couldn't read her. Couldn't even tell if she was attracted to him. And it drove him up the wall. How old was he when he'd enjoyed his first woman? 13.. maybe 14? And since then he couldn't even keep track of the others. But he was quite familiar with the female race, to say the least. He could always pick up the signs.. vague as they could be at times. He could simply glance at a concubine and know whether or not she would come willingly or not. He'd never been refused but the idea of taking a woman who wasn't in to "it" whole souled was entirely undesirable to him. He'd never rapped a woman and damned if he ever did.

No.. it wasn't that he was unfamiliar with the practice. He'd seen it happen a thousand times before and never done a thing to stop it. But the idea of he himself embarking on such a dishonorable attack was literally appalling. What was the fun in sex if both parties weren't enjoying it? There wasn't he decided and so had never attempted such a disgusting act. But if others got off on it.. hey.. that was their business.

And so he had no idea what to make of the Princess's actions as she greedily snatched the entire supply of chocolate and bounded out of the room. Why that greedy little witch! How dare she steal his chocolate and run away with ..

OH! Hmmm..So.. the little imp wanted to play a game did she? Please.. as if he couldn't catch up to her in a second if he wanted. Still, her outgoing nature appealed to him and he stood up, stretching proudly before turning out the door in a slow pursuit.

"Hahahaha!" She laughed prancing down the dark hallway. So maybe she really didn't have a clue where she was. She had the chocolate and was sure that if she continued her speed, Vegeta would never catch her and she'd be declared the ultimate winner of this little game of cat and mouse. And so she scurried to and fro through the hallways, occasionally running painfully face first into a hidden wall. Just how big was this castle? From outside it could have been an entire mountain but inside an even bigger maze of rooms and hallways. Would they never end? BUMP!

"Ow! What the!?" she had run smack into a hard chest and looking up she saw the familiar handsome face and dark eyes gleaming back at her.

So he'd found her. Little thief. He greedily snatched the candy bars out of her grasp and threw some into his mouth, only leaving one left as he munched and gobbled them down while smiling in her face. So he'd won yet again.. Foolish Angel. Would she never understand that there was simply no surprising him? After all he was the-

"HEY!"

She'd gotten the best of the demon again and was speeding down the hallway, shoving the last of the chocolate into her mouth. She was grabbed around the waist as she gulped down the last bite, and smashed against his rock hard chest. He was simply enraged at her for her deceitfulness!

He had gotten the biggest kick out of her thievery. The beautiful little brigand! And now she stared triumphantly right back at him as if she'd just won all of Hell over in a bet. She was so proud of herself. She should be. He was.

"Hmph! I win!" she boasted right in his smug face. "This weak little Angel just pulled one over on you, mighty Demon King! I got the last of the chocolate and you know it." Now between us.. I think her comment was going a bit too far. Did she really have to rub it in his face with his temper as short as it was? I don't think so but apparently he hadn't even been paying attention for he seemed not to mind at all. Or maybe.. just maybe he had something else planned.

"Oh.. You think you've won huh?" he laughed, his hands still pinning her body against his.

"Well.. I just happened to know that you haven't gotten all of the chocolate Angel. And I plan on having the rest for myself." If he was ever going to get his way.. he'd just have to go out on a limb for it.

"Huh?" she asked confused. Was he bluffing just so he didn't look like such a loser?

"HA! Fat chance buddy!" She bragged with her nose positioned about an inch or two from his, hoisted in the air snobbishly.

"I've won and you know it.. So why don't you just suck it up and-"

Her eyes widened and her breath was taken away as his plump lips were pressed fully against her's. Was he really doing what she thought he was?

Was he really doing this? Kissing some lowly Angel simply because he couldn't handle the rejection? It was forbidden. His murdered father would be turning over in the dirt he'd left him in. The thought put a smirk on Vegeta's face and he dug his lips into her's even more so.

She didn't know what to do.. It was what she wanted wasn't it? She felt his thick lips part and suck her top lip into his warm mouth. Should she really? Oh.. Hell why not?!

He was stunned by her boldness as she took his entire bottom lip into her wet mouth and began cascading her tongue over the sensitive flesh. He could feel every bit of pressure from the wet, hot member as it slide back and forth, back and forth. Up and down, up and down, sucking the saliva from his swollen lip and mixing it sexually with her own.

His fingers ran up and down her spine, sending chills through her body. Standing on tip toe, she pressed her chest harder against his, her sharp finger nails digging into his bare back and running tantalizingly up and down, leaving grazing marks. He was hunched over her, and his skillful tongue was making it's way into the hot destination of her mouth, never wavering from it's course and begging for access. She complied, accepting the sweet member into her body.

The two extensions ran fiercely along each other, each tasting the waiting flavor the other possessed, admiring the honey that flowed from the compressed mouths. The rhythm speeded up only slightly and soon their tongues were caressing in time with their mouths. His strong jaw line moving in tune with her's.

What was that? Something was tickling her along her collarbone.. She tried to ignore it but simply could not as it began to slide further down, dangerously close to her exposed cleavage. That bastard, it was his finger! He moved the digit down to the collar line of her gown, if you could call it the collar line, and tugged playfully at the fabric, still invading her mouth. Before she pulled away and decked him, he moved the finger gently in between and cascaded along her stomach. Perhaps she had been too hasty. Maybe he hadn't even realized what he was doing. Surely he wouldn't think of her as easy sexual prey! That was pure insolence and just plain dumb of her to suspect in the first place. Here she was, merely kissing Vegeta and almost accusing him of treating her like some petty palace whore. Ha! He would never treat her so low!

And that's about when she felt his large, powerful hands cup her butt cheeks, pulling up her hips and grinding them together with his own. She. Was. MORTIFIED!

No one.. NO ONE.. ever touched her that way. Fuck him and his false sentimentalities. She knew it had all been one big fucking gimmick. Son of a Bitch!

Ahh! The wonderful feel of thick, meaty flesh in his hands. It was one of his favorite parts of a woman. How could it not be? It was the perfect handle as he pulled her tempting body against his own, over and over. Releasing and then pulling back, it almost could have past for the real thing. Suddenly, he felt her tongue slide very slowly back and she grazed her fine teeth over his bottom lip. The sensation nearly drove him into a frenzy, it felt so amazing. So domineering and brave.. so..

OUCH!!!

She dug her dull teeth into his fat bottom lip, just enough to cause extreme pain but avoid breaking the skin. He nearly threw her back against the wall, as he pulled sharply away. He glared daggers as he covered his throbbing mouth. She stared hard back, but not nearly as poisonous as him.

"Are you fucking CRAZY!?" He seethed loudly through harshly gritted teeth. Still covering his mouth, he stomped up to her in a blind fury and slid his hands around her neck before hoisting her into the air with one arm. She gagged and kicked at him to no avail. No.. He wouldn't kill her. But he'd be absolutely damned before he let her get away with that little trick. He wanted so badly to crush her fragile little neck into bloody matter. One flick of the wrist and his hands would be soaked to the elbow in beautiful, rich blood, seeping through his fingers. As though being awakened from a dream, his eyes opened wide. What was he doing? He was on the verge of murdering his key to hell.

Slowly he let her down, letting her cough and gasp on the ground by herself. He'd shown her too much kindness for one night. And where had it all gotten him? Hm? Certainly not where his devious body had expected to be five minutes from now. Here he was after introducing her to her own mother's mural, giving her chocolate and all he had to show for it was a tediously bruised lip. Damn that little..

"TRAMP!" She screamed in fury. His eyebrows raised in total surprise. Now just where did she get off being mad at him. He hadn't attacked her mouth relentlessly! And then it hit him. Yes.. he had. So was that what this was all about. She hadn't wanted him to kiss her. So why did she even comply. Confusing woman.

"That's all you think of me!" She accused in a loud voice. What was this? Had she really figured it all out? Did she know he had only done all of that pathetic, weakling stuff just to entrap her?

"You think that just because your acting different tonight, I'm going to let you do whatever to me just like your little bedroom sluts!?" She screamed. Did she have to announce that so loudly? Clever little Angel. She simply intrigued him all the more so. She wasn't one to be so easily fooled. He'd simply have to change his plan.

"Princess.." 'uh uh. don't start out that way..'.. "Bulma.. I don't think that of you at all. Where would you have gotten such a ridiculous idea?" he beamed sincerely, though on the inside he was chuckling wickedly. Let her try and see through this little act. She faltered.

"Well.. well because you..because you." she stammered.

"Because I did this?" He grabbed two full handfuls yet again, hoisting them apart. She glared fiercely at him, completely embarrassed and fighting not to blush.

"How dare you touch me so? I am a woman. How can you treat me with such disrespect?" She shot. He smiled. A real smile, but something told her the gorgeous, dimpled display was as phony as could ever be imagined.

"Angel.. it was not meant in disrespect.. It's simply all part of a Demon's embrace.. I would never dishonor you so." The words, dull and lifeless as they came out, put her at ease. But did he really mean them? Had she been right about the act?

Now what exactly does a man think before he kisses a woman? I would love to know. How can you write about something going on in a person's head that isn't even the same sex as you? Well human men will forever remain a mystery to me, but believe me when I say that the thoughts running through Vegeta's wicked mind were far from innocent.

He would have her. Let there be no mistaking it. She was fresh meat and he was dying for a taste. Maybe because it was the only appetizer on the menu not available, but either way.. The Demon King got what he wanted. And so.. placing a sentimental look in his dull eyes.. he advanced on her again, rivaling in the fact that he could almost see the nervousness protruding through her body.

Was he going to kiss her again? She wanted him to. She did.. but something about the sweetly tilted eyebrows and puffed out lips screamed false. Maybe she was only imagining his dishonest conduct because insecurities still lingered over him. He was a completely foreign being. And she had been kissing him so passionately before without even realizing how forbidden and disgraced such an act was. She should be ashamed. But she wasn't. And now as he came nearer and nearer, with a puppy dog smile pasted on his haunting lips, she felt herself melting into his gaze.

Wrapping his hands incredibly lightly around her slime waste, he feigned insecurity, looking timid and unsure on the outside, while laughing in contentment on the inside. She was putty in his hands. So.. that was what she wanted all along. The princess had a secret. She got off on ridiculously shy and helpless men. Perhaps she enjoyed the supreme power she felt she displayed over them. And so he let her decide where she wanted him.

She wanted him to kiss her.. but he remained timid and unaware of her desire simply content to observe her in his soft embrace. Why couldn't he just be his usual domineering self and take over from where they had left off.. excluding the ass groping part of course. She had admittedly made a mistake and blown up on him for no reason and in doing so made him shy and unable to react the way he had before. So it was her turn to play in control. Leaning on her tip toes.. she stretched herself to the fullest height, still an inch or so from his slightly grinning face.. He made no attempt to accompany her.

Ah! The sweet feeling of victory. She was nearly screaming for him to touch her.. to kiss her.. to take her. But he denied her unvoiced pleas for several moments longer before begrudgingly complying. No.. it wasn't that he didn't want to kiss her again.. By all means.. every single part of his body was screaming for more of the sweet luxury of her pouty lips but seeing her in such a disillusioned state was more the triumphant to him. It was pure bliss. He'd gotten what he wanted and sealed the victory with a small, sweet kiss. She wanted him.

Suddenly she pulled away, pushing herself from his embrace. What was this?! He bared his teeth, in frustrated seeping anger. He THOUGHT he'd just handled this outrageous little situation. Now a look of hurt and confusion was placed over her previously pleading face. He didn't even need to ask.. she knew he was angry and needed to know why she continued her silent torment.

"No.. I .. I can't. I love Yamcha."

Chapter 12

The Princess had rejected him. It was fact that he could neither fathom nor deny. A feeling so terrible, it seemed to wallow in his stomach, fluttering painfully about and drawing strength. It felt so empty. He had left her. Just left her to wander the fearsome hallways until either she found her way or light came, either way he didn't care. He hadn't done it to be wicked, as she most likely figured. He just didn't trust himself with her.

He sighed. There was a down side to his family line. One and only one but powerful enough to conquer the bearer of it's brunt. To a demon who carried on the family line, it was powerful enough to be the ultimate ally or the supreme destroyer. It was himself. The true self that lay beneath the powerful flesh and served only when needed. When the rage bubbled forth and the demon within awoke, taking over. It was the monster within and when in control, was quite simply out of control. It made the bearer completely unaware of consequences or even actions. The rage took over the host and when all needed had been acquired, lay dormant once more, despite the possible dire consequences caused. The monster had no conscience or allies when unleashed.

To Vegeta, it was a gift. A sort of secret weapon you could say. Often, he could feel the creature within, scratching at his chest, begging to be freed and reek havoc on whom so ever had stirred it's rest. Only at times when his anger awoke, did he nearly loose himself entirely into the blackness that was the pure demon.

He had allowed it only a few times in his life. When all was said and done, not one creature existed that had lived to tell the tale. Once,he could remember awakening in a pool of blood, believing it at first to be his own, only later to find it belonged to nearly 35 angels and 27 of his own men. He couldn't even recall what had transpired only remembering the feeling of hatred seeping into his stomach right before the darkness swelled over his black eyes. And with a sadistic smirk he had lifted himself out of the murky stream, peeling off the shards of flesh that had stuck to his armor. To this day the entire experience remained a mystery.

But now his other side was threatening to unleash itself again. That name, that dreaded name.. Yamcha. the mere mention of it, stirred the dragon within, taunting it with imaginary prey. He could feel it's sharp talon's scratching at his insides, begging to be let out..

'only for a moment'.. it claimed. 'I promise you won't be sorry'.. but he knew better.

The creature was as much dead as alive. When it over powered the host through blind rage, it was a living breathing entity of the inhabited being. But that in itself made it dead, simply because the host was incapacitated. There was no talking to the creature. No pleading. No mercy. It was void of emotion. Whether it spoke or not, he couldn't be sure. Again.. he couldn't remember a thing. But something told him it did, confessing the deepest feelings buried inside. It was a wretched curse.. and a beautiful blessing. It could save or damn you. So he denied it.

But still it stirred, the rejection it's only driving force. He had to unleash some of this pent up energy that it thrived from.

Walking slowly into his enormous room, he smirked finding his outlets huddled together on his bed. They had felt him coming and we're embraced together, arms and legs bound together in a sensual tangle as they obliviously explored each other's mouth, pretending not to have noticed the dark sinister creature who had just entered the room.

He smirked watching as one of the whore's tongue slide around the other's lips, making circles. The other closed her eyes and moaned, letting her fingers glide along the crevices of the other woman. They peeped open their eyes in one swift movement and smiled seductively at him, gesturing with their fingers for him to join. He grinned even more, crossing his arms and holding his ground. He lifted his hand and made his index finger move from side to side.

"ah ah ah. you'll have to convince me more then that." And then he lowered his gleaming eyes at them.

"You'll have to make me want to come."

She had finally found her way. She had worried that she'd be forever lost in such a confusing place, but had been incredibly relieved to notice the familiar provocative paintings and nude statues. Who would have believed a stark naked picture of a man and woman engaging in fornication could warm some one's heart so much.

She still couldn't believe that bastard had left her. Just left her to roam the freezing cold hallways all night long. Creep.

But then. could she blame him? YES! But still.. part of her knew how angry he must have been. To be honest.. her mentioning Yamcha had probably surprised her more then him. She hadn't even thought about him before she had blurted it out. And secretly, she knew that she hadn't been thinking about him at all that night. It had been the first time since her abduction that her constant thought track, hadn't been consumed by memories of her love for him. And the fact that such a distraction had been Vegeta, frightened her.

She should have known better then to kiss him. What was she thinking? It was a story as old as time itself. The forbidden enchanter capturing the heart of the one denied it the most. A sort of twisted Romeo and Juliet metaphor.

The prey falling for the hunter. It was a beautifully ironic story.. but did it ever end well? She couldn't recall any that did.

There was Cyprus, the mighty Angelic Queen of ancient times, that was said to have fallen in love with a lowly servant man named Brolli. But in the end, he had been slain by her father and she, in turn, drove a blade through her heart at his grave.

Also, she had learned of an ancient legend that had mentioned something to the extent of an angel falling in love with a mighty demon.. but nothing conclusive. She remembered the time in the old dusty library, where she had feverously gone through a phase of wanting to be an all wise and wondrous book scholar. She had come across the myth by simple accident but found it to be fascinating. It was said that Angels and Demons were created to be one single race.. a perfect one at that. But something had gone wrong and split the creation in half, the two sides as different as night and day. One blessed with a merciful heart and beautiful appearance, the other wretchedly cast down from the heavens to dwell in shame at it's treacherous, stone cold heart. But as she read on, she had been drawn in by another legend.

That of the treaty. The treaty of all time, to end all wars, to end the separation of the two creations. By love and sacrifice, it would be won.

She mused with herself that it was talking about her and Vegeta. But he didn't love her, nor she him. He wouldn't sacrifice his pride enough to set aside their differences. He was a proud, arrogant King, and made no attempt to conceal what he was so proud over. She knew he'd never bend to her. Not really. She had been right you know. About his insincerity. He'd had ulterior motives all along. But how could someone so wicked have made her feel so wonderful? She had meant what she said. No one had ever given her such a gift. And she refused to erase the fact that he'd done something for her no one could ever duplicate or succeed. For a split second, she could have sworn she meant something to him.

And she had to know.. NOW!.....
"Tiring out so quickly?" He taunted the panting woman, laying on the bed nearly unconscious in her bliss. She was wrapped up in a small sheet, barely covering over anything. He turned a delicious gaze to the woman at his right, who was just now recovering and ready for another go.

"Your friend 12 is a weakling, how about you number 18?" He sneered, sweat dripping from his brow, his breath came in wisps. But she was a strong one and they both knew it.

"Give it your best shot." She flirted, moving tenaciously towards him.

Taking her inviting proposition, he wrapped his arms around her, never kissing her lips but taking in her scent. He ran his fangs along her throat, taunting her further. They tumbled around the enormous bed, not even bothering to avoid the other concubine and knocking her to the floor. Vegeta could careless. What good was she to him now anyways? He might as well exterminate her. She was useless. 18 however, presented herself as quite the delicacy, much less fragile then the other women in his harem. And so he could nearly unleash all of his previously pent up fury on her.

He bit down into her throat, just lightly enough not to break the skin, but enough to feel the scream of pleasure that ripped through her esophagus. Tangling them in the satin red sheets, she barely noticed being levitated into the air until her back was pressed tightly against the ceiling and he was grinning devilishly.
"Vegeta.. I-" She halted. She stared wide eyed at the ceiling. Wrapped in silky red sheets was the Demon King, and pinned on top of him was a blonde demon, sandwiched between him and the ceiling, much as she had been not long before. She was.. in pain. Screaming and moaning in obvious terror she had her teeth clinched and eyes shut as she seemed to be kissing his shoulder. Every tendon in his body was rippling and his breath came in sharp throaty gusts. She could have sworn she saw every vein in his rock hard arms and the muscles bulged much larger than she'd ever seen them. His strong back and shoulders tensed and relax over and over as he bore into his victim.

Looking down in shame she saw the other woman, crumpled unconscious on the floor. She covered her mouth and her cheeks blushed a deep deep red. Now she knew. And now she hated him more than ever. She couldn't even dare another look. She tore into a full fledged run and flung open the doors, scampering outside. But he'd heard her. And the other woman had seen.

Slamming the door, Bulma ran to her bed, both embarrassed and hurt. He was.. He was.. with some one else. She.. She couldn't even justify being so upset. Why should she care? She'd known all along. He never denied that he kept concubines in his room at night. But.. somehow..she hadn't even put two and two together. She buried her face in her hands, desperate for tears that had been dried up. She'd cried too much today. And so she sat, huddled in the corner of her bed, ashamed at herself for being ashamed at him.

How in the hell was he going to explain this one? Now he'd done it. She'd never speak to him again.. By all the stars in heaven! He'd probably traumatized her. And what exactly was he supposed to do now?! Hm? Explain to her the birds and the bees?! And why were they called that? What the fuck did birds and bees have to do with any of it? A sly grin graced his moisture slicked face as he walked down the hall to her room, completely and utterly dark. He sighed, unsure how exactly he was going to go about this. Not really sure why he was going about it at all.. She knew he slept with concubines. What.. did she think he only used them to keep warm?!.. well.. actually it was quite a sad possibility. He cursed heaven for bearing such a naïve and ignorant creature. Leave it to Angels to produce such an insolent breed, not even explaining to them the act of intercourse. Damn Angels. Now what was he going to do? Did it even matter? A part of him claimed that it did and that he'd better get his ass in there and give a damn good explanation. And so.. clad in his silk black boxers, he charged self assuredly into her room.

And she was asleep. How the hell did she get to sleep so fast? Was she faking? She had to be. He leaned over her small form, buried beneath the covers.

"I know your awake Angel." He whispered inches from her exposed ear.

"Go away Vegeta." She mumbled, shoving her head farther beneath the shield of covers. He sighed trying in vane to find her beneath the large black comforter.

"Woman.. I-.. Bulma.." He found a clump of bluish silver hair muddled on top of her head.

"About that.. I-" He was rudely cut off.

"Go away Vegeta.. You smell like a whore." His eyes widened. Had she REALLY just said that to him?! The ruler of Hell? The man who held her life in his hand?! Telling him to go away, like some petty little boy friend to be ignored when she decided? Finding her arm beneath the covers, he viciously yanked her out of bed.

"Are you crazy?!" He spat in between his clenched teeth. He could feel the rage seeping into his veins, pounding in his chest. The blood began to seep into his eyes, covering the white. She screamed and tried to pull away, not in stubbornness but in actual terror.

"Vegeta your eyes!" She shrieked. Fear pertruded every part of her body.. He'd never looked like this before. She'd seen his eyes turn red before, but this was entirely different. The veins in his eyes had gathered so tightly, it appeared as if his eyes were made of blood. Just when the last of the white was being covered over, he calmed himself, the room temperature falling rapidly from nearly boiling hot, to the cold temperature it was before. Still her heart pumped rapidly in her chest and she was sure with his sensitive hearing, he was aware. What had happened?

"Vegeta.. I-"

"I don't know why you give a shit. Just wait until I give you back to your precious little Prince. Then it won't matter who I'm screwing, just as long as you're as far away from me as you can possibly be." He actually seemed hurt.. if it were possible for him to even look that way. But this was genuine, poorly concealed hurt.

"Vegeta .. I.. I don't know what you want me to say.." she stammered gazing into his dark eyes.

"Say I have a heart." His eyes pleaded. "Say that you care for me."

Was that really what he wanted? She had never known the life he had. She'd been loved and cherished as a child. But she knew it had not been so for him. She knew no one had ever told him such things in his life. But.. could she?

"Say that you care for me!" he demanded.. he fought his voice hard not to crack, a strained sensation pulled at him. Why couldn't she just say it? Why couldn't she lie to him? An eternity past before she glared proudly at him.

"No Vegeta." She stated harshly.. He was shocked.. Her eyes darkened and she gazed harder into his dead eyes.

"You tell me first." The request was simple. But would he set aside his pride to tell her what she knew at one point he must have been feeling. They had spent too much time together to deny the ties that bound them. They had been near to each other for 3 weeks. Surely he had developed something for her. But only if he had a heart. Another of his questions she couldn't answer. For simply.. she didn't know.

His hard cold gaze examined her sharply, cutting through her soul like a knife. Was this how she had felt the first time she'd met him? So cold and afraid? So utterly helpless?

"Never.." he whispered. "I will never tell you such things."

He began to walk from the room, strutting angrily towards the large wooden doors.

"I'm not a liar." He declared, turning out the doors and leaving her.

Chapter 12

The concubines next to him stirred fitfully. But he didn't care. He didn't care about anything, right? Watching the deep red sun rise, he tried not to ponder over what she had said. Asking him to tell her something both knew he couldn't feel. He didn't have a heart. He knew it. But he had accepted it a long time ago and used it to his advantage. What good would it do him as a King anyways? He was entitled to make decisions that no one else wanted to.

Besides, Angels had hearts. But they were weak. What good did it do them? Only made them more emotional, more able to feel pain. So if all that having a soul meant, was that it would magnify all emotions, is it really such a loss to be denied one? A soul was over rated. Besides, he mused dejectedly, Angels were most definitely a hypocritical people. With their high morals and merciful ways, you'd think they could show some compassion. Some understanding. But no.. they cursed Demons for what they were, casting them down from the heavens, denying them the grace of the sun. No.. they were not all that they were cracked up to be. He knew first hand. Disgraceful creatures.

How old had he been when seeing his first one? Nearly 5 he imagined. But still, it was fresh in his mind. They had all been gathered, him, Draco and his father into a large meeting room. He couldn't even remember the room, only that it was intolerably light and refined. It seemed to almost sting his flesh. And, walking into the room through two doors, were the most beautiful creatures he'd ever laid his eyes on. Gorgeous light skin and wings. Their wings. He could remember wanting to touch the feathery members.. To slide his small dimpled hand down the shimmering silk, just for a moment. They were so graceful, so unlike his own, which, despite his fathers assurance, he believed he'd never grow into. But they hadn't thought he was beautiful.

He gritted his teeth just recalling the scowls sent his way. All his life he had been informed of the preposterous, weak ways of Angels. Their complex emotions, their pity.. but none, not one bit of those characteristics had been show to him. The tall light strangers look down at him in utter disgust, as if he were nothing more then an insect that should be forever stomped from existence. He was nothing more than a lowly, desperate creature of Hell. below them.

Such wretched creatures. So unfair. He had born this way, had he not? Denied the right to see the holy sun. Denied entrance into the grace of God. And for what? Being born? And so, early on, he decided that it was barbaric. His father was right to destroy the treacherous creatures. They would have done no less to him if given the opportunity. And thus, he had brought up in blood and hatred. How exactly was he supposed to care? Why should he feel inadequate that he didn't have a soul? As if it did the nasty heavenly race any good anyways. He was damned. and he accepted it with brute force and defilement. He would have it no other way.

The whores stirred once more, waking each other up with their pitiful groans. Blinking their eyes in the now brightly burning sun, they stretched, pulling towards him. They circled around him, kissing and nuzzling his strong neck. They whimpered in their need, oblivious to the blank look in his eyes, clueing them into the fact that he was far off from the present. And so when he glared at them, they were surprised. They looked longingly at him, begging for him to suppress the growing tension in their bodies. Vegeta was by far the strongest and most skillful man in Hell, in more ways then one. But he only growled, roughly pushing them away as he crawled out of bed.

Why should he give them what they wanted, when he was sadly being denied what he desired most? Freedom from the dejected feeling his body was constantly being cursed with. He knew the only answer lied in her. She had instilled such a seed of self hatred into him, and until she was gone, he knew it would never die. And so, he began asking himself if he had the strength to pluck out the seed. To tear out the roots. To kill her.

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) )))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) ))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Bulma awoke with Radditz standing over her, the crimson sun high in the blazing sky.

"The fires of Hell are burning brightly today, Princess." He smiled genuinely. She was almost shocked. He looked almost exactly like Goku when he smiled like that. The resemblance was uncanny, if not for the outrageous hair. and of course the fact that he was a demon. Still, it sent warm waves into her heart just to catch a glimpse of something so pleasurably familiar.

"A messenger has been sent from your father, Princess. He is to meet my Lord in two days." He beamed happily.

"What!?" She shrieked, fully awakened by the news.

"All of Hell is rejoicing your Highness. The castle is stirring and you.. the most important, are still in bed!" He certainly was in a good mood, she remarked almost happily. He probably despised being her babysitter as much as she did, and would be relieved when the whole ordeal was finished.

Bulma dove out from underneath her protective covers, clad only in her bra and underwear. She paid no heed to his fierce blush and fidgeting hands, as she pulled her stained, bloody, torn white dress over her head. Gazing over at him and trying to get his attention, she noticed that he basically refused to meet her eyes. It had never been a problem before. Especially when he had insisted on flirting with her.

"What's wrong with you?" She demanded, only half hearted. Well, it wasn't like she wouldn't be a little flustered if he had bounded into her room in a pair of speedos, but he was ridiculously avoiding her.

"Well.. I.." he stammered.

"Radditz.. It's not like you haven't seen me in my bra before. What's with you?" He straightened up, going from Goku look alike, to powerfully in control Demon Guard, in a matter of three seconds.

"I just refuse to touch another man's property.. That's all." He said flatly, still noticeably avoiding her angry stare.

"I'm no man's property Radditz!" She scolded disturbed. "Who's property do you think I am?"

He faltered slightly, pausing for words.

"Forgive me Princess." He said curtly, before turning on his heels to exit her room.

"I was misinformed."

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) ))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Radditz could be so strange. One minute he acts like a modern day Casanova, the next he won't even look into her eyes, for fear of the wrath of another man. How strange he could be. Still, she scampered after him, not wanting to loose him in the maze of hallways and corridors. It wasn't a long walk, for soon she was faced with the sounds of thousands of demons, ranting and raving in a way they often did when attending their wild parties.

She stood in a room, larger than she'd ever seen. It seemed as if it stretched for a mile across, and a mile high. An uncountable number of long tables littered the black marbled floor, drinks piled high upon them. And demons.. more than she'd ever seen, laughing and carrying on in a violent ways that was befitting to their race. Black tattered wings decorated the mess hall and she shrank away from the intimidating scene, trying in vane to camouflage into the surroundings. It didn't work and soon all the millions upon millions of beady black eyes were bearing into her.

Expecting utter distain and rejection from them, her mouth fell when, as a large hoard, they cheered loudly in her honor, lifting their full glasses into the air and praising her, as if she'd given them Heaven on a platter. And there sat their proud King, perched high on his skeleton throne, looking as if Heaven was already his. And he wasn't alone, for straddling both legs, were two gorgeous concubines, clad in shiny pleather that covered next to nothing. To her ultimate dismay, she recognized the blonde from last night, beaming at her with sleezy eyes, dripping with seduction. Vegeta gestured for her and Radditz to come nearer and so they picked their way through the messy crowd and stood uncomfortably before him and his throne.

"Princess, you're presence here is welcome. Today is a day of rejoicing in your honor. You are being held in high regard on this day. I suggest you put aside your differences and enjoy the celebrations." He smirked, with that smirk that made her crazy. She was about to decline pleasantly, ready to inform him that she wanted no part of his bloody, drug infested celebration, when, grinning the Blonde demon wrapped her arms protectively around the King, nuzzling her face into the crook of Vegeta's neck. It made Bulma's firm resolve turn to ice and shatter.

"Oh. come on little Princess.." she taunted, pressing her knee closer to Vegeta. He could only smirk, showing his gleaming fangs as his present slut continued her lame sentence.

"Why don't you join us? I promise it'll be fun." She moved even closer to him, riling in spurts of angry breath, coming from the Angel.

"Besides.." she continued, placing her delicate little fingers on this side of the gleaming King's face.

"Vegeta can handle three, no problem. I can learn to share." Jealousy sky rocketed, nearly taking flight with sanity, and she had to freeze her body before tearing off the demon's face. How dare she pretend she owned Vegeta?! She could feel herself screaming as they gazed down at her. She felt humiliated and cheapened, as their dead eyes examined her enraged form, but mostly, she felt the unrivaled jealousy as he wrapped his arms securely around the woman's thin waist, thinner then her own, and squeezed, winking sexily at her.

She felt her self subconsciously backing up, but probably wasn't even aware of it until her back smacked into Radditz rock hard chest, and he had to steady her so as not to fall. Glaring, she stuck her nose up haughtily and marched rudely through the crowd. The demons paid no heed to her as she bumped and pushed her way through them, such insolent behavior was common place at gatherings such as these, and they paid no mind to common courtesy.

Radditz had not missed the gesture from the King, nor the purposeful instilling of jealousy from the concubine. He followed her stomping form back to her room, where he walked in on her looking in the mirror.

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

What did that concubine have that she didn't? Of course, the answer was obvious. She had class, a body that could turn women green, and a beautiful face, clad in dark makeup. Tramp! She hated her.

She turned, seeing Radditz's confused face looking back at her through the mirror, as he stood in, what she had come to identify as, her door frame.

"Am I really so different from them, Radditz?" She sighed. He groaned at her, looking a tad bit scornful at her question. He crossed his arms, still looking at her eyes in the reflection.

"Of course not Angel." He stated matter-of-factly. He was a kind person when he attempted it.

"You have your similarities.. You know how beautiful you are." She loved when he flattered her because he just did it so monotone. You were almost forced to believe him, for he stated things with such firm and unretaliable conviction, there was no denying it at the present. And so she simply flushed as he continued.

"But there are many differences. You are free to make your own choices. You will not always be owned by the King." Bulma's plan to stab the demon in her sleep faltered slightly.

"What do you mean?" she asked. Partially, she didn't want him to answer, not wanting him to dull the blade of hatred that had pierced her body from the scene she had just witnessed. He sighed, still standing cross armed.

"It is not an easy life for a concubine to live." He stated almost painfully. It was strange for her to see him look so dejected as he was. For the life of her, she couldn't understand why. All the constant questions had made her feel insolent lately.

"Forever bound by a life of slavery, nothing is your's. Not the food you eat, not the clothes on your back, not even your own body. You are owned from a young age, and you will live and you will die as a slave. No, it is not an easy life to live my Princess." Again, she wanted to slap herself for being so heartless. She hadn't even thought of a concubine being a slave. They hung lazily around the palace, wearing next to nothing, some horribly out of shape, and yet, when the truth was revealed, they were nothing more then toys for the King's amusement. But should she hate Vegeta? He had probably been raised around such ideas and found no logic in changing such a provision. So she was left with no one to hate, no one to despise for her growing jealousy.

"But you have your own choices, and the opportunities. The King shows you incredibly high favor and yet you reject him." Radditz had obviously gone mad. "I want to know why." He demanded. So.. he was asking her why SHE rejected Vegeta? Was it not the other way around? He refused to tell her that he cared for her and she refused to kiss him the other night for fear of her dying emotions involving Yamcha, not to mention the fact that such ordeals were forbidden to the highest extreme. So really.. who had rejected who? She did not know. And so she decided to go with the pleasures of simplicity.

"Because I love another Radditz." She breathed, examining her hair in the mirror, as if the statement was nothing more then a burden of her appearance.

"No you don't." He stated so blatantly she almost choked. How did he say things so convincingly? She was almost at the point of believing him.

"How would you know anything about that?!" she snarled, "You don't know anything about me!"

"I know you don't love that Prince."

"Well, I certainly don't love Vegeta!" She spat. He simply shrugged.

"What does love have to do with it?" He asked nonchalantly.

"Everything Radditz!" She threw her hands into the air frustrated.

"It has to do with!-" she lowered her voice noticeably.." with everything." She sighed, annoyed with the conversation already.

"No woman has ever denied the King anything, least of all herself."

"Well, it's not exactly hard." She sighed again, brushing her exuberant hair.

"For all of Hell's women, it is the ultimate temptation. To be pursued by the Demon King himself? Even those who have already been taken find themselves willing." He spoke as if he were thinking of a long lost memory from times far away. He just had that far off look in his deep eyes and a hushed tone in his throaty voice. Bulma moved to her bed, motioning for him to sit. He observed the offer hesitantly, as if such was forbidden, before gently taking a seat across from her. He noticed how cushiony the bed was, how it seemed to sink beneath his weight. Strange seens how he slept quite peacefully on the floor of his room.

"What do you mean?" She asked. So she wanted to know the truth. How would he go about it? It was a tale that hurt to even imagine. He'd never told it to a soul. Was he ready? Sighing, he decided he'd carried the burden of the secret far too long on his heavy shoulders.

"I.. I was not always a guard Princess." He spoke slowly, absorbing every word, as if hearing the tale being spoken out loud for the first time. "At one point, I was no more than a low level soldier, living on the outskirts of Hell City with my family. I had a mother, a father, and." He paused, composing his thoughts. "And a woman."

"It was not an unhappy life for me. I was content with my ranking, free to go and do as I wish. Come and go as I pleased. But. I preferred to be with her. She was what you Angels would have considered a wife. Her name was Launch and she was.. " he nearly choked. " She was very beautiful." Bulma had never seen this side of Radditz. Usually either calm and composed, or insolent and goofy. Never the dejected and struggling Demon before her.

He could see her in his mind's eye. The beautiful face and strong body. He looked at her through nearly glazed eyes, peering in a dreamlike state, before realizing he had zoned out and continued his story, his voice low and tight.

"The fateful day came when the New King, your Vegeta.." Bulma wasn't sure she liked him referring to that cheap man whore as her own, but decided to press the issue would only close him up.

". noticed her. Her intense beauty was far too much for him. For you see.. Me and the King had grown up together, been allies in many battles, winning every one of course. But loyalty can only go so far when beauty intervenes and so it was with this. He openly propositioned her, giving her the choice in secret. Over come by lust, she subjected." His voice had tightened too much, eventually ceasing all together as his vocal cords strained under pressure. His face became flustered and Bulma wondered if it wouldn't be the right thing to do to allow him to continue. But he calmed himself yet again and spoke once more.

"The next day I was given a high place in the castle to "atone" for what had taken place." He scoffed in open distain.

"As if any high place could erase what Launch had done." Bulma found herself surprisingly wanting to defend the woman. It wasn't as if she had done it alone. Radditz seemed to forget that Vegeta had played a vital role in destroying his marriage. But than again, what good could it possibly do to ease the pain Radditz was obviously struggling with? It no doubt made it easier to serve such a master, if all blame was directed elsewhere. And so she kept tastefully quiet.

"Upon hearing what had transpired, I slaughtered Launch for what she had done, and threw her body into the Pits of Hell." He stated as if he were reading the words. He was staring blankly at nothing at all, obviously so far away from where his body was presently placed. Bulma was horrified. How could he do that to his own wife?! But then again, she had committed adultery, and in such a barbaric place as this, such an act was most likely a mercy killing. Somewhat civil in such a savage land. Have you ever had that feeling that it was your cue to talk? You just knew by the tension in the air more was expected of you then just to sit and listen. Well.. the feeling swelled over Bulma, until she cleared her throat, unsure what was about to come out.

"I am so sorry Radditz." She stammered. She knew she was pushing it. Pity was not something you offered to a demon. It was like a direct slap in the face. A damage to their pride. And so she skipped over the formalities and let her heart do the talking.

"I don't know how you can serve him so loyally after such a deceitful act." She breathed, looking down at the swirls and designs embedded into her beautiful comforter. She felt desperately like fidgeting under his harsh gaze, but decided it would portray discomfort and insecurity, both of which she despised. And so she calmly waited for his answer. Her statement seemed to awaken him from his dreamlike state.

"What?" he snorted. "Loyalty to your King is far more important than any petty attachment. It is the foundation upon which every warrior stands. With out it, Hell itself would crumble. The King is a powerful man, Bulma. Much more powerful then his father and undoubtably more so then his legendary ancestors. But he is not invincible. Without loyalty from his servants, he could very well fall and Hell would be defenseless without his supreme leadership. His family line is strong but not unbreakable. Loyalty must take first place in a warrior's life. Without it.. I would parish." He finished. A moment of silence passed between them.

Such a noble race were these Demons, Bulma decided. Savage and reckless at times, they retained an air of sophisticated pride that far out seeded their known nature. How could anyone think less of them? In a sense, their ideals and concepts far out seeded that of an Angel's. They had honor and pride. Neither of which could be denied or insulted without dire consequences. Finally, she spoke up.

"What Vegeta did is utterly inexcusable Radditz." She stated coldly. "But.. perhaps it is for the best." This Radditz had not suspected. He had been firm set on defending his King's pride, no matter what the cost of his own. He had never anticipated her predicament. She smiled, glad to have his full attention. This wouldn't be easy for her to say.

"Maybe I." she sighed, gathering her courage.."Maybe I don't love Yamcha." She admitted it slowly, seemingly discovering the fact herself for the first time.

"But I do know that love, true love, does not yield to temptation. Of any kind! No matter how powerful, no matter how strong, nothing can break true love. Perhaps what Vegeta truly did.was set you free. He let you know of Launch's conniving ways, perhaps he had even known of them long before. Perhaps, strange as it is, it was his way of telling you." Bulma had surprised herself by defending Vegeta. Through each word, she was more and more convinced of their hidden truth.

"And maybe.. maybe promoting you to a higher position wasn't a sad excuse for atonement. Maybe that wasn't it at all. I think that it was his own way of consoling your loss, comforting your grief at finally knowing the truth. And although I'm sure he would never admit it.. maybe he just wanted you closer to him. More.. in his life, you could say." She spoke gently, but with superb conviction and truth. He felt as if a heavy load had been lifted from his shoulders.

All this time, he had felt a hidden animosity towards his King, only having it revealed by a woman. An Angel no less. And her words were spoken with honor and truth, reflecting the characteristics that the sentences themselves held. She spoke with knowledge far beyond her years. Not only beautiful but wise. If he didn't know of his King's secret infatuation with her, he would have claimed her for himself, taking her then and there into his world.

But as it was, he knew that, although Vegeta was oblivious to it himself, he was developing dangerous feelings for her. He imagined that the transformation was effecting the Demon King very deeply, as such feelings are foreign to such a hateful man. Still, the truth would come out eventually, as it always did. How incredible for Vegeta this was. Radditz had know the young man since he had been a small Prince, and yet never had he been equipped with a tender heart or a known conscience. How amazing that so much later in his life he was being contaminated by such seeming flaws. How amazing indeed. How scary mostly.

But Vegeta was reacting as could be expected. Using his forever handy tools such as jealousy, envy and rejection, he was predictable only to Radditz. What would forever remain a mystery to the world, Radditz knew only as fact. Only he could see the silent war ragging inside of Vegeta's empty chest.

But would his journey become the Princess's end? The thought brought unstable fear into his stomach. He had already seen the flashes of anger run through her eyes. Heard the enraged out breaks of a temper never before unleashed upon the universe. So it raised a question. Just how much could a demon influence an Angel? How far could Vegeta push her, until she was demon all but in appearance? He knew that he couldn't allow that to happen. Her innocence was what enthralled Vegeta's curiosity of her. It spawned an unhealthy infatuation that would ebb if the deterioration of her heart continued. At this point, he was intrigued both by her beauty and her innocence. But what if her innocence was won over by the blackness growing in her heart? Would the shallow beauty that still existed be enough to sway his straying morality? He knew only this. Only time could answer the haunting questions that tore at his mind. Until it answered, he felt it his duty to protect his King and his friend. For Bulma could only be called such after opening his eyes to the reality of Vegeta's true side. He could thank her only by protecting the thing that made her who she was. He would protect her soul.

Standing up, Bulma noticed that again, Radditz was mentally off in another world. Where he went, she figured she'd never know. But her mind was not on the deep psychological mysteries hiding behind his calm façade. She had a plan.

Admiring herself in the full length mirror, she nearly blushed. How was it that one moment she was feeling grossly huge and unattractive and the next she could turn herself on? She giggled at the thought. What some makeup and a gown could do. A beautiful smirk, nearly rivaling Vegeta's own, graced her cheeks, flowing resiliently into her full eyes.

"Radditz." She inquired hotly. He hardly even looked up until she placed her foot on the table next to her bed, her entire leg planted in front of his path of vision. He looked as if she'd just thrown a bucket of ice cold water upon his head.

"You weren't listening to me." She explained pouting her lips at him. He gave a goofy grin she was beginning to get used to, wrapping one hand on the back of his head, giggling.

"Uh.. ha ha .. yeah uh.. sorry about that." It was only for a brief second, but she could almost have sworn that she saw Goku standing right were Radditz was. The two just had such uncanny similarities. It simply amazed her. But she was too busy for such mind tricks. She had plans to make. Things to ready.

"Radditz.. I need you to do me a favor." She implied with an edge. It seemed to him more and more often these days, she had a dark gleam in her eyes. Something evil was brewing deep inside and it constantly had him on edge. He worried that perhaps the promised evil seed had already grown roots, deep enough to leave a permanent impression. But then, her entire experience in Hell would forever scar her. So, he put on a grin and complied with her wishes, gesturing his head in permission for her to go on.

"I need you to get me a dress.. Something.mmm." she pondered innocently for a moment before the wicked gleam returned and her smirk widened. "Something sexy. something.. you wouldn't mind seeing me wear." He was more than happy to comply, but the itching in his stomach would simply not ebb..What was this all about? Was she really going to attend the festival? Did she not know the dangers that were constantly at work in such a wild atmosphere? But he knew the look she had all too well. Nothing he said or did would sway her. That much was evidently clear. And so.. with a bit of the familiar glint in his own eyes.. He shook his head and left to make ready such a gown that his eyes would envy the very ground she set foot upon. Let Vegeta's stone cold heart reject this one!

Chapter 14

Vegeta was a deceitful, kniving, arrogant jerk. Bulma had come to the realization as she lay back into the huge black porcelain tub, provided for her in the room addition she had once figured a closet. She'd been extremely pleasantly surprised to find the exquisite room, adorned in the usual deep red and black. The walls had been bordered by paintings of black trees, the ones she had seen on her entrance in to the horrible place.

She wondered silently if Hell had ever been graced by wild life. Legend claimed that at one point in history, Heaven and Hell were known simply as Eirth. or was it Earth? She shook her head unclear of which it was. But this.. Eirth. had been a beautiful place, almost resembling heaven. Luscious plant and animal life had decorated the very ground and large rolling seas had graced much of the world. But gazing out of the small window at the sinking crimson sun, she wondered if that Legend was true. Hardly seemed possible, now all that remained of the mythical fertile land, was a wasted burned desert. Not the striking kind of desert with dunes of countless amounts of sand, but the dull, dry, cracked barren waste land kind of desert. It had the look of hopelessness. But wasn't that what Hell was? A destination for the wicked of heart to be punished for eternity? Those who had been found wicked in a previous life?

She was surprised it was not more heavily populated. Demon's and Angel's did not die from old age. They never even showed years of age past their prime. A 500 year old woman could resemble that of a woman of 28. But that didn't happen often. Disease was not unknown. Angel's were not immortal. Not immune to death. And though they liked to pretend, the males were far weaker than any demon. In battle, millions of Angels could parish, with the death count of Demons only lingering in the thousands. But she didn't imagine Demons lasted much past 200 either, what with their constant battles and reckless ways.

How long would Vegeta live? She hoped not long. Awful people like him usually died young, a grace from God to create small balance to the universe. No, Vegeta wouldn't live past 30. She was sure of it. How old had his father even been? She'd heard rumor that the useless creature had not been but 45 when he died, not looking a day older then Vegeta himself. Well good riddance! She thought with a deep, ugly scowl. She would have spat on his grave if she'd have figured the wretched creature had even been buried. She hoped Vegeta had not even left a piece to be buried. And no.. she wouldn't even curse herself for the dark, wicked thoughts that protruded through her mind. She was done with the petty self scolding. Fuck it all. She'd think whatever she wanted. It was her mind, she refused to be a concubine to her own race. Fuck the slavery. Fuck the logic. Fuck the reason.

What good had it even done? For all her logical conclusions, she'd come up empty. At first, she'd gone with mere instinct, knowing full well what a dangerous, evil creation this King of Darkness was. But then.. as straying minds often do.. she began to dwell on certain aspects, distorting the truth with moronic conclusions that had twisted and deformed her psychological reasoning. Basically, she'd been wrong. And to admit it, even in her own twisted mind, was irrationally hard. Was it because she had wanted her accusations to be right? Was it easier for her to believe that there was some good in him? Did it make everything so much grander for her to fool her heart into feeling for him?

She figured everything had been an illusion. His kindness, his partially hidden concern, the gifts, the clothes, the painting, the food, the room. everything. All part of a larger plan to seduce an Angel. To toy with her gullible Angelic nature. Hey, as long as you've Kidnapped your enemies daughter, you may as well have you way with her. How much worse could you fuck over your enemy? She doubted such a disgrace could even be possible. Nothing was worse than that.

Her father would be enraged if he knew she'd kissed the demon. 'Not like it meant anything.' She scoffed. His second kiss had been as meaningless as the first, although less painful. She had to face the hurtful fact that her father would never accept her if he knew. He would probably never even want to rescue her. But the real question was.. Had she only wanted to believe in Vegeta in order to prove that her mother's beliefs were true? To honor the beliefs that the queen had lived and died for? She looked away from the bubble filled tub, in utter disgust with herself. The monster had gotten the best of her.

Kissing her, toying with her. All one big joke to him. She could see it in his heartless dead eyes, when she'd stood before his throne, watching the nearly pornographic scene unfold with the concubine. What was the deal with that anyway? Since when did Demons have blonde hair? But then again, many Angels were cursed with black hair, as was her Yamcha. .

Yamcha.. she sighed at the thought of him. All along.. all along she had him. All those years, yelling at him, looking down on him, treating him like nothing more than a pesky child.. and she'd loved him all along. All the time and she'd never even known it. What a fool she'd been. But only more questions haunted her mind when thinking of him. Would the bombardment of questions never cease?!

Did she love him? No, no.. I mean really love him. You know.. hmph.. how do I put this.. AH! Did she.. no .WAS she IN love with him? Ah yes.. that's much better. IN love was much more complicated. What is that saying? Oh yes.. You never really appreciate what you have until it's gone. A rough interpretation I am sure, but nonetheless. So here was the real, down to the core question. Was she only imagining she was in love with him because of her present state?

I mean.. what if you were trapped in a barren wasteland, the future looking as dismal as your present surroundings? Couldn't you find comfort in thinking about the one whom you loved, even if in truth you doubted it was so. Haven't so many people claimed they never truly told a person how they felt until the day that person was gone? Have you never heard someone claim that they secretly were in love with a person who had recently passed away? Did you doubt that, had the poor soul remained in this world, the person would have truly confessed such feelings? Or are they simply psychological illusions humans use to make a heart wrenching tragedy even more so? It is something to think about. Can even one of you reading this deny, that although tragedies are unpredicted at times, and can cause unfathomable pain, we do not relish in them? Why else would we watch such sob infested movies? We as complex creations enjoy the hurt, enjoy the pain. When did it become such a desperate plight? When did we begin to need just drama to feel alive? But perhaps my story has taken flight to other fascinates. Forgive me.

Pondering over such things, she soaked down further into the hot water. She had needed this. She had needed time to think.. And of course..with a grin.. Strategize. She would make him pay for embarrassing her. For instilling a jealous rage into her heart. He had only been kissing her the day before. Not even an hour an a half later he'd been screwing the brains out of one of his cheap concubines. And no.. she didn't give a flying shit about the "hard life a concubine lived." She was having a hard life, no one seemed to be pitying her. Why should she give lame ass excuses for immoral behavior? Prostitution was wrong. And with a sick smirk she lifted herself into sitting position in the slippery black tub. 'At least a good prostitute would get paid.' Yes, yes.. it was an awful thought. But then, if you really think so, tell her. I'm sure you'd only get her moment's familiar reply. Fuck you! She'd think what she wanted.

Grabbing a beautifully articulate adorned hand mirror, she gazed at the face reflecting back at her. She was gorgeous. She refused to deny that. Why should she? It was only shallow skin. It could never seep into her heart. Her looks were all that had spared her the wrath of Vegeta this long. Why should she hide the fact that she knew she looked appealing to the opposite sex? Or could she even say "opposite" sex? That strange concubine woman! Damn her for instilling such forbidden thoughts into her innocent, closed mind.

Pondering over such sickly entertaining thoughts, she wondered what she would, or should I say COULD, do with her hair. She could have sworn it had grown longer since being here. And although it may have seemed like years since her captured, it had only been near a month. The once blended and camouflaged streaks of powerful blue, shown much clearer in the silky strands of silvery white that was her hair. Her hair was turning much bluer for lack of true sunlight. It was almost more striking that way. She admired the hair piled on her head. It was so light. So marvelously light. It reminded her of home. Of her castle, of her bedroom, of her father, of her boyfriend. Ahh. so pleasant some memories could be if she refused to over ride them with the wicked present.

Gazing unnaturally long at the gorgeous streaks of blue, she saw fragile fingers slid through the soft wet strands. The false vision completely unnerved her. She sat completely disturbed. Curse her eyes. Her mind had drifted too far into the past. The times when her mother would comb her scalp with the frail digits had come back to her. She pushed the thoughts away. No more reminiscing for today. She had things to do.

Pulling her dripping body from the bath tub, she balanced herself on the roughly painted walls, not wishing for her clumsy feet to slip and for her to fall on her ass. She needed that gorgeously thick ass intact. She'd be using the tantalizing object as a weapon tonight.

Making sure the lock on the door was secure, she removed her fluffy towel and gazed at her naked body in the mirror. What is it in every woman that makes them do this at some point? As if we aren't already completely aware of our ever pressing flaws. Do we really need to examine them? Are we not already distressed over the illusions enough? Such strange creatures indeed. I intrigue myself at times.

And so she examined her form with ever increasing curiosity. No.. she wasn't big. Not really. But then again, what woman ever thinks she's thin enough? At one point, Bulma mused, she had probably been rather chubby. But she'd grown into it. Being semi tall did that to a person. Some of the thickness remained, coating her body with incessant curves. But were curves really all they were cracked up to be? That flaunty devil had apparently felt otherwise. His sleezy concubine could not have been but one hundred and five pounds. But then, it was quite possible Bulma was only feeling such inadequacies out of plain, rotten jealousy. She'd noticed the other concubine he was so snuggly with had been nearly twice her size. So what exactly did Vegeta prefer? Curvy and voluptuous, or thin and small? Argh! Stupid men! But what did she care. He was nothing more then a demon. A walking erection. No matter what his taste, he wouldn't be able to resist her tonight. But she would. She'd control her hidden attraction to him, enormous as it might be.

Throwing the towel around her midsection, she smiled down at the ridiculously large assortment of makeup her servants had provided at her beck and call. She was beginning to like the efficient women, despite their cold exterior. She would look perfect tonight. More then perfect, for such a word is used to describe humble and modest women, neither qualities she figured would be factors tonight. In plain English, that bastard and all his grubby little followers, were going to want her tonight, no matter the cost. And so, gathering all the needed supplies, she hauled them to her vanity and began to work.

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) )))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) ))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

The mess hall was quickly filling as thousands of Demons gathered for the popular festival to be held. It simply amazed the Demon King that such news had spread so quickly and thoroughly throughout all of Hell. Despite the enormous space the room provided, it was beginning to get pleasantly crowded. This he didn't mind, for he admittedly relished chaos. At least to a point. His chaotic moments with Bulma had been unceasing lately. Secretly, he did feel the tiniest bit of guilt wallowing in his stomach. If he thought it would make her feel better in the least, he would have blatantly confided in her that he'd been thinking of her throughout his entire time with the demon concubine. Truth be told, he wasn't really attracted to the concubine that much, though she seemed oblivious. It wasn't her appearance so much, that he didn't mind although he figured it would do her some good to gain a few, but it was her personality that seemed to irk him every time she opened her mouth. She had a masculine way of speaking, so self assured and confident to a point where it could intimidate most men. But not him, he'd never feel insecure around a woman, of that he was sure. But all the same, her way of speaking seemed a direct attack on his pride and headship. It took away his air of superiority, almost making him feel like less of a man and more of a bitch. He laughed aloud at the thought. Vegeta, proud King of the Demon world, reduced to a sniveling man bitch. Now that was a hilarious mind picture.

She looked unsure up at him, his fangs gleaming as he laughed aloud at a joke she was sure had been made in his own mind. Twisted fuck. If he hadn't been so stunningly handsome, she'd have run by now. Death was better than being reduced to a man's play thing. The sick animals. She'd been ruled by the creatures far too long. If only he would reject her. She prayed against all odds that he would fall for the Angel. But the creature of light would not have it. Instead, she'd seen the workings of insecurity and low self esteem play upon the Angel's actions. She'd even used them to her advantage, hoping that the foolish creature would actually take her up on it and free her of the King's recent desire of her. No, he felt no real feelings towards her. She knew that. No man really did. They looked upon her as a weak, pretty little play thing. Nothing more. The unique, abnormal blonde hair didn't help.

Privately though, she knew of strange workings going on in the King's already disturbed mind. Running off the way he had last night, going to calm the weak little Angel who had rudely walked in on them. She'd seen the placid look in his eyes and hurt expression plaguing his eyebrows, though she feigned sleep. He'd merely crawled roughly into bed with her and Videl, and slept fitfully, if at all. He was beginning to develop care for the Angel, and she could only imagine how complicating such feelings were to a man, who as a Prince had only been taught the emotions of rage and anger. It probably pissed the Hell out of him. She giggled at the thought for, although she held him in deep respect and admired his Godlike appearance, she despised the fact that out right, he was a man.

As if realizing she was thinking of him, he turned to look down at her, straddling his muscular thigh. She noticed, if only for a split second, he looked the tiniest bit rejected. It must have hurt him that the Angel would not attend his celebration. She knew that partly this was her fault. She didn't know the Angel nor did she pretend to like her, although the woman held a certain mystery to her that intrigued the demon. She felt a small twinge of guilt for embarrassing the creature like she had. It had certainly not been intentional, though from all appearances it must have seemed so. No.. she had wanted the Angel to accept her challenge. To join them in the festivities and perhaps even the promised after party, for, although this should be kept forever a secret, concubine number 18 had semi bisexual tendencies, further proof of her distrust of men. But the Angel had not shown up as of yet, and as if to console the hurt of his pride, Vegeta took her dark lips into his own and kissed her passionately as he never had before.

In fact, as far as she could remember, the King refused to kiss his servants on the lips, deeming it was far too personal, as it sometimes was. But she knew that this kiss was nothing of the sort, as if it were not even her he imagined to be kissing.

Suddenly, it seemed as if the entire room had been morphed into another dimension, for a thick cloud of silence filled the air, incredibly unusual for such a wild, tempestuous gathering.

Pulling away from the usable concubine, Vegeta was startled by the discomforting silence that had filled the room with unimaginable speed, stopping the familiar commotion. Looking almost angrily around for an answer, his fierce eyes caught a hold of a sight that forced him to his feet, sending both concubines to the floor with a thud. If he had bothered to look down, he would have seen the supreme look of rare happiness cross over number 18's face. He would not have heard the silent congratulations as his eyes caught sight of the most intriguing creation made by God. It was Bulma.. or.. well.. someone like her. He would never have known if not for the familiar exquisitely white feather wings parading behind her as always, for this apparition was beautiful in the extremities he had never imagined possible in the known universe.

He gawked openly at her, as did most of the others in attendance, man and woman alike. Her white hair was feverously curled in small, tight spiral springs that danced around her face. It added immense amounts of volume and only seemed to aid the unimaginable beauty of her face. She..looked.GORGEOUS!! but so.. So. DIFFERENT. It wasn't as if he had denied her the fact of knowing how attractive she was any other day, but now.. she just. wow! He couldn't even fathom words in his mind to describe the amazing creature that stood in front of the entire realm of Demons, a self assured look planted on her face. She KNEW how great she looked.

Her face was clad in dark makeup, her eyes glazed in black eyeliner, curled at the crease and flared out in an Egyptian style, shadowed by onyx. Her already long eyelashes, stood out with tasteful mascara, making her bluish silver eyes seem fierce and mysterious, catching the light just right and demanding notice. Her cheeks were carefully blushed, and when she moved an incredible amount of silver shimmer glimmered on the bass of her fleshy cheeks. But I think if you could bring out one detail that he had noticed the most at first sight, I believe it would have to be her lips. Have you ever seen someone with lip gloss that just seemed to be piled so thickly on that you feared it could ooze off at any moment? Well think of that, but with a glamorous flare of taste and art. For that is all that could truly be applied to the gorgeous full set of lips, tainted by dark red gloss. Vegeta was truly captivated, for it seemed in his morbid mind, that large amounts of freshly tasted blood was flowing generously on to her lips and he longed to taste it.

But if you could say that Vegeta had first been infatuated with her lips, his second love was her dress. Now if you had simply looked once, you would have missed the entire experience and have lost the true meaning of what it was to be a proud woman. For that was what the Angelic Princess was, clad in a tight and utterly see-through black gown. That's right, his eyes at first caught the swell of her bosom, simply covered by a thin lacing of velvet leaves that covered only minimal amounts of her.. mmmm.. should I really be reduced to saying "private parts?" (hahaha!) Well, words cannot really describe the effect the sheer dress created, though this untalented writer will attempt.

It was a long sleeved dress, though tight in every imaginable way, although to be fair I must say that it flared colorfully around the knees. It was black, sheer material through and through. Looking past her chest, he could see quite clearly her belly button, and past that, he was supremely blessed as she turned casually around and he caught sight of her completely and proudly bare ass! Oh.. well.. I suppose that would not be ENTIRELY true since she WAS wearing a black lace G strap thong. But you get the idea. And of course Ladies.. who could pass up the kick ass stilettos that adorned her graceful little feet. Let's just say.. Miss Bulma was a sight to be seen!

Although, he would have openly admitted, even to you, that he loved the dress, he despised the attention she was getting from the male demons. They stared as he did, eyes wide and bodies straining not to pursue her relentlessly for the rest of the night. He all of a sudden got the amazing urge to blast the entire lot of them into oblivion, sparing only her and himself to enjoy the rest of the night privately locked away in his room. But with their gawking eyes as a constant reminder, his body swelled with jealousy. Didn't the fools realize the danger their staying eyes had so willingly put them in? She was HIS possession and their eyes coveted her. Of course he knew how incessantly barbaric such a thought was, but his realization was over ridden by savage lust. He desired her.. and her wanted her. and he wanted it all now!

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) ))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( ((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

Bulma was in her glory, loving the attention she was getting. Even the sight of the handsome King making out with the sleezy concubine, did little or nothing to dwindle the gorgeous feeling of pride she was having as she absorbed all of the staring eyes. So she had gone a little bit over board with the dress. She couldn't help it if Radditz took all of his assignments seriously, she thought with a wicked smirk. The job had done the trick, as she had seen the Demon King toss his precious bed mate to the floor in one quick jump to his feet. 'Eat your heart out you sexy animal.' She thought with an open smirk that sent pleasurable chills to all males in attendance.

She was wallowing in self lust at the stares and, of course, glares she was getting. So the women despised her? The men loved her. And she .. KNEW it! 'But. w-where is Vegeta?' She thought with incredible distain. Had he left? She felt her stomach drop like a brick in the water. All her work for nothing?

So you can imagine that our glamorous Princess was caught off guard as Vegeta stormed through the crowd, a freezing cold aura about him. At first she had imagined he was angry, the way he was wickedly slamming past his followers on a wretched descent towards her, but feeling the stunningly cold air that flowed viciously around him, she realized it was entirely the opposite. He was excited. His black eyes bore fiercely into her's, burning with an intensity she had never beheld. His harsh gaze never left her eyes, not even to examine her body. He never even dwindled as he threw a poor unsuspecting demon nearly 6 feet into the air. It served the ridiculously gawking man right for not paying attention.

She smirked, amused at his rough treatment of one of his guards. Well, this certainly wasn't the "wallowing in self pity, jealously pouting Vegeta" she had planned on, crushing his fellow kind in his rampage towards his destination. She figured she actually would enjoy this seductively tempting version more.

She gasped in delight as his rough hands gripped her small, nearly bare waist and pulled her tightly to him, holding her against his strong chest. He seemed to be in complete obliviousness to the fact that what he was doing was forbidden, even in lawless Hell. Apparently, the rule had also been forsaken by his ever loyal servants, as they clapped and applauded the whole scene. Bulma had to laugh, as Vegeta seemed to blush when being given the thumbs up by countless demons, even woman, she noticed all too amusedly.

Staring deeply into her eyes, he seemed to almost smile genuinely.

"I'm supremely impressed Angel." He breathed, making sure his lips were unprecidently close to her cheek.

"You look stunning." His comment seemed to flow like honey from his hot lips as they brushed marvelously on her soft skin. She had to blush at his flattery.

"Normally, I wouldn't make such barbaric assumptions.." he continued in that sexy deep accent that no doubt drove millions of women mad in their lust. To her surprise a melody began to play and without asking, he whisked her to the dance floor, as if her feet had not even the power to touch the ground. Smirking, he brought her hand to his plump and pouty shaped lips, kissing wetly by parting his soft lips and drawing the thin flesh into his mouth. Gazing seductively back at her, he noticed his forceful display had taken her breath away. Wrapping his arms securely around her curvy body, he grinned with his teeth, absent mindedly showing his unnaturally sharp fangs.

"Tonight.. your mine."

Chapter 15

The tune was slow and seductive, playing sensual games on the body's reaction to such a beat. It was the type of song that one could not simply sit to.. you know.. the kind that you dance to alone in your room, praying that no one is looking. It could almost be ascertained as Egyptian, with a thick straining melody of a small horn. It was amazing. Or perhaps Bulma only felt that way being held and gracefully strung around by the handsome Demon.

She had never predicted him to be such a skilled dancer, although with all of the other activities he excelled at, it should have been no wonder. As it was, the King was as articulate at dancing as he was at fighting. He held her unnecessarily close, loving the feel of her frail body straining against his chest.

He was aware of the hushed whispers and stares circling the two alone on the large dance floor. What did he care what the fools thought? They were jealous of the prize jewel he held protectively in his strong arms. They should be. They'd never lay a hand on her. Not if he had his way. which of course he would, he thought with a devilish smirk.

She was falling deeper into his trap. Soon, she would be his entirely, forever to be embraced by darkness. He would own her. Every day.. every moment.. every second she was forsaking her true nature. Letting the power of evil seduce her once pure heart. The more she was around him, the stronger the desire of the flesh grew inside of her, lurking near the breaking point as it conjured a plan to conquer what innocence remained. He would have her innocence. Make no mistake. It was a selfish prize to be won. But it would be his, after all.. he'd never been blessed with the fruits of a living soul, nor the innocence Angels retained. So why should she?

She was no different from him. Besides the light hair and wings, what difference could there possibly be? He had SEEN the wickedness swelling in her heart. She was becoming what she hated most. She was becoming a demon. He relished the taste of such an idea. How fun it would be to watch her sin.. to make her just.. like.. him.

But there was another feeling scratching away at his mind. He was enjoying manipulating the creature to fit his mold, but this attraction to her was far more than shallow beauty and breakable innocence. He respected her. He knew he did. But why? I mean.. she had no physical strength, she sobbed like a child at every known opportunity, and she never knew what she wanted. One minute she was lusting after him, the next drop dead in love with some BOY. He subconsciously scowled, catching himself only a split second later and hoping she hadn't seen. She seemed totally oblivious, concentrating on the intricate steps needed in their present dance. There it was again, paying attention to minimal things, never even pondering the future.

Did she never think of what was to come? He was almost positive she hadn't but he imagined it was easier for her not to. After all, if she only pondered on the fact that her belligerent father intended to rescue her, she'd never have to face the fact that afterwards nothing would be the same. What.. did she think that he'd only kidnapped her for the soul purpose of enjoying her company?! This was no fucking vacation! After her father agreed to his demands, half of heaven would be his. But he doubted she had ever even bothered to imagine something so "far stretched" as that. She didn't believe in him and it irked him beyond belief. But he'd show the pretty little creature a thing or two. She wouldn't even know what hit her. More and more she was becoming his, and he wondered if possibly tonight she would surrender her soul in behalf of sin.

He smirked yet again, imagining all the creative things he'd do to that precious little innocence of her's. By the end of tonight, it would be virtually non existent. If he had his way, that is.

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) ))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

What was he thinking? She'd seen several different expressions run through his gorgeous face, none of which she could honestly decipher. 'That's right devil, you just go ahead thinking what you want. But I'm not your precious little Angel.'

Did he really think she'd come here to play trophy for him? Ha! Very likely! She would put him in his place. No man.. demon or angel.. would ever own her. She wasn't some pretty little trinket to show off to his friends. To parade around on his arm like some prize winning masterpiece. She'd be damned before she ever gave herself to some one unwilling. But let the animal think what he wanted to.

She noticed, much to her dismay, that he looked incredibly handsome this night. No.. he always looked ravishing.. but tonight he held that inward calm charm that she'd seen only in private moments they shared. She also noticed the intricately carved masterpiece hanging tightly on his neck. She stared at the fine ornament, straining to see why it captivated her so. Though entirely black, it seemed to illuminate a sort of power, a fine aura that represented strength in all it's glory. It was impressive to say the least.

"It is the crest of my family. My honor." He smiled down at her. The funny thing was, she could have sworn it was actually genuine, not his usual smirk that sent chills up her spine. Damn him for being so breath taking. He could leave her breathless with the most mundane actions.

"Your honor?" she asked, curiously. It wasn't often, she found, that Vegeta spoke to her in such a respectful tone. Most often they communicated to each other through fierce, biting words and ridiculous volumes. But he wasn't treating her in a demeaning way at all. He was simply stating facts, and she found him captivating in his charm.

"It has been in my family line for hundreds of generations. It belonged to my father, my father's father, his father before that and so on. Eventually, I will give it to my own son. He will carry it as proof of his family's honor." His words pealed back a strange emotion. She couldn't quite place it. Perhaps it was a hint of sadness. She'd never really thought of Vegeta having a son. It just hadn't occurred to her. He didn't seem like a father. He was so young and reckless at times, never fearing the future, simply making it his own and transforming the present to his liking. He was so. so.. SELFISH.. Not that she could say any different for herself.. not by any means.. but he was quite possibly the most self centered person she'd ever met, besides herself.

But, she feared the other provoking emotion that had graced itself upon her at his statement, was a fine thread of jealousy. Maybe not soon, and certainly not if her expectations proved true and the handsome Demon King perished before the age of 30, but eventually, Vegeta would grow up. Possibly even start a family, begin a true life and stop being his formerly wild self. She shook her head and smiled up at him.

"Some how I find it hard to believe you'll ever be a father Vegeta." She grinned, batting her eyelashes in a way that, although she would forever remain oblivious, silently drove him crazy. He cocked his head to the side.

"Why would you say such a thing?" He asked in mock hurt, though, truth be told, her statement had stung a bit. For she would never know, but the idea of being a father held a strange, unfathomable appeal to him. How could he explain to her, with his pride intact, that such a blessing to be bestowed upon him would be like nothing in this wretched world? What honor to bring life to a creature and watch it grow. Form it into a powerful man, or a strong woman. Of course, he hadn't felt that way at all until a few years ago. Life for a demon could be cut very short. He lived in a dangerous time and his power, although stronger than anyone's, could be ended by a mere sword. Life was too fragile, even for him, and the idea that he could pass on with the knowledge that his family name would live on through his blood, was indeed an incredible honor. But of course.. he'd never tell her that.

"I would make a wonderful father." He smirked. She raised an eyebrow.

"Oh would you?" As if his statement had been some kind of sexual innuendo to get her into bed. He laughed, a throaty, pleasant sound. More eyes beheld the too, though with less distain and more humor.

"Ah Angel.. " he sighed moving closer to her. She loved the approximaty of his lusciously grabbable body, the closeness of his plump lips. She couldn't remember seeing such beautiful lips. A dark burgundy, but fat and rip like sweet plumbs, they held a sort of feminine appeal, not that she'd ever tell him that. Not if she wanted to keep her face that is. They were the type of lips you could suck on for hours, so full and pouty she could almost imagine that if he got any closer, she'd take the damn things into her mouth and enter the bliss that they held. They never appeared dry, always soft and sweet, standing gorgeously out in the tanned skin of his handsome face. For all of Vegeta's supreme masculinity, he held that certain feminine charm on his face that lit a woman's heart on fire. The long eye lashes, soft skin. Ahhhh... Oh! Uhh.. Where was I? Haha.. oh yes..( clears throat and puts vibrator away)

"Shut up and dance." He purred in her ear, his dreamy lips caressing her cheek in a sensual motion that could only be understood through experience. How was it that the smallest actions he did could seem so .. so downright sexy!?

But all thought was lost as he swept her breathlessly around the ball room, her feet hardly touching the floor.. It probably was for the best, as her stilettos were sure to trip her up. Frowning down at them, he connected eyes with her.

"Take those off." He commanded, just a little more gently then he normally would. Amazing the effect a little makeup and a sleezy dress could have on a man.

"No.. why?" she faltered. He sighed, though still holding her unusually close.

"Woman.. you cannot dance in those ridiculous things. Take them off and prove to us "lower" types what an Angel can do." His challenge was effective, and without a word, she fiercely tore the shoes from her feet, tossing them savagely across the room. This little action had taken the demon's who didn't know of her temper by surprise, and all eyes beheld the small, shoeless Angel who stood defiantly before their invincible King. A look of pure triumph already graced her amazing face, as if all competition was already in her grasp. They stood nearly 2 feet apart, each sizing the other up as to whether they could handle the task at hand. The battle was on!

A deep dark gleam crossed Vegeta's expressions and with a clap, all music was ceased entirely, leaving the room void of all commotion. Turning to the panicking musicians, a deep rumble of foreign language past his lips. It wasn't an unpleasant sound, rather interesting if she could say so herself, but so obviously a dead language of his kind. To say that Vegeta was ignorant of tradition would be a damnable insult. With a grin, the head musician winked at his Lord, and with a nod began to play a deep tone on his violin, if you could indeed consider his instrument that. To be honest, I'm not sure what kind of instruments Demons had nor what they referred to them as. But if you were to consider the sound that awoke from the carefully assembled strings, it could be likened to that of a violin.

Bulma was unsure of this dance, understandably being from heaven she'd never inquired into Demonic entertainment. With a half scowl, she figured it would have been "forbidden" anyway. And so there she stood, ready to show the horde of Demons just what physical powers a true Angel possessed and she didn't even know the steps. Had Vegeta picked such a song on purpose to embarrass her? She figured the notion was not so far fetched. He'd do just about anything to win. But as he observed her, she figured it wasn't so.

He began to circle her, much like a vulture circling it's dying prey. His fierce black eyes, seemingly burning holes in her skin where they gazed. Coming from behind her, he grabbed her roughly around the stomach, holding her back against his chest, as he led them sweeping around the slick, marbled floor. She flew sideways with him, and gasped as they began to make large sweeping spins. His hands began to move up her stomach very suggestively, stopping as his thumbs had landed on the underside of her bosom, smirking as she bent her back, allowing him further access. Still making gracefully sweeps and spins on the dance floor, he began to move his hands further up, figuring she'd finally subjected herself to him. As a response many of the male demons began to cheer and give further thumbs up, agreeing with his explicit treatment of his new toy.

As his palms reached the peak of her chest, her hands flew on top of his, fiercely pulling them away at the sound of a tambourine. He had figured she'd be angry and make a ridiculously unneeded scene at his gesture. But she simply pulled his hands down farther to her hips, a wicked gleam in her eyes and a vicious grin gracing her dripping lips. The little imp! She'd purposely made him think she'd let him touch her. It lit his curiosity on fire! She would be in control for the moment.

Moving her hips back and forth, with the skill of a belly dancer, she enchanted the entire audience with her absolute mobility. Each set of eyes moved back and forth in time with her body, spell bound. She bent back farther into Vegeta, her back and wings pressed hard against him, as she lay her head back onto his shoulder, again subjecting her body to his hands. The music picked up and they began to move in desperate rhythm, their bodies flowing together in a way never before seen. They were as graceful as Angels and as erotic as Demons.

They enchanted the entire kingdom, moving with grace neither had known they possessed, completely in twined with each other as lovers are. None in the crowd could fathom the possibility of actual affection. For who ever heard of such a preposterous idea?! The Demon King swooned by an Angel Princess? Ridiculous! Still, whispers and stares we're eminent in the watching crowd as the two locked hands and swayed articulately across the floor. Was there something going on that they had not been aware of? As far as they all knew, the King would rather destroy such a creature than bother with it. Even if she was the High King's daughter, his actions toward her were extremely unprecedented. But, as many figured, her beauty being as extreme as it was, the King no doubt had ulterior motives in his ever devious mind, and only a fool would question his authority. For it was no secret that the King was an impatient man.

She felt as if she were floating, scurrying breathlessly on her bare feet across the floor. She should have felt extremely self conscious with all of the staring eyes. But she felt as though she were made for this. Her fear and shyness of his kind had dissipated as he held her closely in his ripped arms, starring inquisitively into her blackened eyes. Before she realized it, their feet had virtually left the ground and he held them levitated above the floor, still spinning gracefully. It was the sort of scene that artist hope to capture their entire careers and always fail. For the marvelous scene before can never be converted to mere paper. Her long dress floated about her, as his hands caressed her back, large abounding cheers and applause coming from down below. Why did she trust him so much? She spread her wings wide, for the first time in what seemed like forever. She normally kept them slicked back, as was the tradition for most Angels. But she wanted to copy his stance perfectly and together, they graced the open air with their stepless dancing and large, flowing wings. The light.. clashing with the dark.

As their feet touched the ground once more, she flung herself from him, holding on only with one hand and stretching the other as far away as it would go. With a light tug from him, she spun back, encircling herself with his arms. He held her there a bit too long, nuzzling her swan like neck, before allowing her to spin herself out of his embrace yet again. He twirled her beneath his hand and at the right time, bent her far back. So far her eyes were parallel with the black marble beneath. She tipped one of her legs into the air, and he balanced her by gripping it further and sliding his knee between her legs, VERY sensually. She gasped but only managed to tip her head back farther, until she could nearly feel the cold marble touching her hair. Her eyes were closed and her body bent towards him, she let out a small moan as she felt his hot lips kiss between her breasts.

She had seemingly subjected herself to him again. Only this time, he would take the bait in a way she could not deny. Her bosom was nearly busting through the thin seams of her dress and he silently slide his bottom lip from her chest to her chin. The warm hotness of his lip sent shivers through her body, and he could have sworn she'd moaned for him as he slipped his kisses onto her chin.

He let her up slowly, close.. so close to his face. If she wanted.. she could have kissed him in front of the entire kingdom. But would he reject her? Worse yet. would he hate her for displaying such affection towards him.. the way they had been dancing you would not have suspected as much, but then again, he could be unpredictable and as far as she knew, it could have been all part of the dance. Though, she thought with a smirk, she doubted it.

The dance had finished, much to everyone's dismay. Deny it all they wanted, the Demons were forever to be impressed by the Angel's abilities. Who would have ever guessed a mere Angel could create such sexual tension in a room as she had? As it was, many of the males were sweating in their lust for her, and it was at the extreme dismay of their female counterparts.

A loud blast from a trumpet sounded, and all dismay was forgotten as gleams of drool wandered from their mouths. It was time to eat. Gathering wildly, they violently selected their seats, many a brawl spitting forth in their reckless haste. Bulma was confused as to what the commotion was about, until she saw the humongous plates of food being served at the first tables seated. But what about her? Where was she to sit? She didn't really know anyone. Vegeta had apparently seen the look of frustration and despair cross her delicate face. Laughing lightly he took her hand, obviously surprising her.

"Did I not inform you that this celebration was in your honor?" He chuckled.

"You will sit with me at the high table. It is a great honor.." but then a boyish grin of pure mischief cross his characteristics and he leaned in closer to her, covering one side of his mouth with his hand.

"But between us.." he whispered sweetly.."I would have asked you to anyways."

She was shocked. Had he. Had he just openly acknowledged he enjoyed her company?! God forbid! Hell had just officially frozen over!

"Really!?" she gasped, even more sweetly then him.. One moment they were horny dancers, the next plotting children! He smirked just a bit devilishly.

"Sure.. I mean.. have you SEEN who else I have at my table? I'd rather talk to my dead father than them!" And of course.. he had to ruin it. She sighed.. It was just his way. But moving through the crowd hand in hand, she blushed lightly, wondering if he even acknowledged the fact that they were holding hands. Of course, it could have been mainly for her protection, but she felt a swell of pride nevertheless.

Taking a seat directly beside him, Bulma was quick to find out who she'd been picked over for conversation. They were by far the most gossiping, shallow bunch of wannabe nobles she'd ever had the displeasure of sitting next to. And no.. they refused to lower themselves into formerly meeting an Angel, which was just as well, for she had no use for such meaninglessly meager people as they were. One she particularly disliked was a certain "governor," if you could call him that. For he was in charge of foreseeing the progress of trade with East Hell. His name, she gathered, was Lord Frieza and she despised the pale man. He seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he was almost as pretty as she, with deep placid lips and fierce red eyes. He took whatever opportunities available to gaze at her, as if she would ever be wooed by such a grotesque creature. And so she ignored his eye's advances, listening only mildly to bits and pieces of their political talk.

She'd never been one for such talk. Politics and Government had always bored her to tears. This conversation was no less, for all she could honestly say she learned was that Hell had four Governors, or Lords, that each watched over their chosen section and reported back to the King. She cared to hear no more, as she figured, by the false look of interest, neither did the King himself. She caught him several times, simply gazing at her. She wished upon all wishes she knew what was going on inside of that complicated head of his. If only she knew how he truly felt, then she could either accept it or cut the wretched ties that forced her towards him. Why did he have to be so gorgeous!?

Why did she have to be so gorgeous!? It would have been so much easier for him to simply sit there with his band of moronic advisors, listening to their mindless babble, until he simply could stand it no more and excused himself for the night. He wondered how his father had put up with their incessant chatter all those years and not simply blasted the fools into oblivion. But he supposed such would be looked down upon as tradition. He couldn't handle being thought of as a recklessly immature King, and so, with false curiosity smothering his face, he listened, only occasionally chancing a look towards his beautiful prize.

So what was she thinking? Had she finally decided to stop pretending and accept her fate? Did she realize by now that resisting him was futile and useless in the long run? He would have her. He desired her and so it was done. The Demon King got what he wanted. Especially this one. But he could feel a certain tug at his chest when he looked at her, picking away at her food as was her custom. What exactly was this tug? This.. strain he felt when they connected eyes? He could feel a certain.. is fluttering the right word? I suppose. He felt a certain fluttering in his chest, in his stomach when she batted her long eyelashes at him. He'd admittedly never felt this way. About anyone..well.. he inwardly scowled, openly tensing up. Almost never. Women were trouble. what could he say?

As dinner finished, she saw a huge grin stretch across his lips, earning one of her own. She loved when he smiled like that. It just made her so.. jittery! She blushed as his piercing gaze once again met her's, creating what felt like their own bolt of electricity. Something was most certainly going on tonight. She felt like there was a direct pull at her body, yanking her closer to him with every second. She couldn't stay away, she couldn't keep away, she couldn't look away. And from the looks of it, he was having his own inward battle. What a mystery the two were to each other.

Only one in the room besides them understood the epic struggle, and it brought a warm smile to his face. Radditz watched the legendary scene unfolding as the two young adults fought inward battles not to stare too long at the other. And when on occasion their flaunting eyes did meet, they were quick to glance nervously away. Such a strange scene to watch. Vegeta being discrete about anything was a miracle on it's own!

The ridiculous smile was etched into the Demon's face as small cups of red liquid were filled to the rim before them. Figuring it was improper to drink before the King, Bulma simply swished her's around in blind curiosity. Vegeta, on the other hand, stood proudly before his kingdom, holding the cup close to his lips before murmuring some ancient tongue and slamming the liquid down his throat. His throat looked almost like it had slightly faltered before he grinned and received a standing ovation. A million cheers were heard as the Demon's favorite part of the night had begun.

Vegeta's throat burned intensely from the liquid lava drink he'd consumed, but refused to let it show, feigning complete calmness, while his insides felt like their were slowly being melted. Glancing towards Bulma, he tried in vein to stop her as she bravely threw the liquor down her throat.

Chapter 16

Bulma felt as if she had swallowed a cup of pure acid. The hot liquid singed down her throat, falling roughly into the pit of her stomach and blossoming, sending warm drifts of heat into her body. If the taste had been as incredible as the sensation, she might have actually enjoyed the harsh drink. But as it was, her throat burned with an intensity she had not thought possible. Obviously noticing her stressful state, Vegeta gazed nearly apologetically, if it could ever be possible.

"It's called Hell Lava." He informed her nonchalantly, taking another fierce swig, careful not to clue her into the fact that it burned him nearly as much as her. To be honest, it was far from his favorite drink, leaving him with nearly uncontrollable after effects. The taste could be almost as wretched as the consequences and he could remember quite clearly the last time he had allowed the wicked substance into his system.

Well.. I suppose it would be utterly unfair to suggest that he remembered "clearly" the entire experience, for there are factors in that night he would never recover. But he remembered more than vaguely waking up in a pile of people.. that's right.. men and women alike. He had sworn on that night never to down 4 bottles of Hell Lava, of course accompanied by the incredibly addictive substance Ash.

I had to do some research into Demonic Substances and Stimulants but I would have to conclude that, although direct side effects are vague at best, the drug Ash could be considered the equivalent of modern day Heroin. It was a black, powdered substance that could be inhaled through the nose, and often was by Royalty and Lower class alike.

Needless to say, the King remained in a stupor for many days, eventually dragging himself out. It would be unfair to say that Vegeta was a drug addict for most of his rule, but, like all royalty, he had a wicked curiosity about the unknown, and as are many humans today, very experimental.

But again his curiosity pleaded for solitude and he wanted very badly to see the effects a few shots of Lava would have on a creature of light. Being a ridiculously sheltered Angel, she had no doubt been immune to the effects of curiosity and as such, had likely never encountered alcohol. Secretly, he begged her to down another. Just one more.. For he was only as of yet realizing his full potential as to infecting her with his dark influence.

There was that look again! He kept glancing over at her with a strangely amused look. It was the sort of look that little boys get when they're up to something. He also braved a quick look at her glass, filled yet again to the rim, courtesy of the ever present servant women. It almost seemed as if he was anxious for her to assault her body with yet another shot. Did he think she'd back down to such a challenge? Hardly! And so, although she knew her throat would complain, she did as her instincts told her and tipped the rim of the shot glass to her ruby red lips. The alcohol poured down her throat like liquid fire, inflaming her insides with mock pleasure. She couldn't tell if she liked the hot feeling running through her stomach and chest, or despised it. She knew only this.. The second wasn't near as awful as the first, the third even less painful and by the fourth.. she quite imagined she'd acquired somewhat of a taste for the liquid.

Time passes amazingly quick when you're slamming down shots into your body with a handsome man by your side. no? She gazed curiously around the room, finding her and Vegeta's indulgence quite similar to that of the entire kingdom. At every table, men and women, Demons were assaulting their graceful bodies with the magma served. Some seemed to be playing some sort of games, throwing stones into each other's cups, the victor watching as the beaten inhaled the wretched drink. But the scene was far from peaceful. A brawl or two had been started and finished amongst the tables, though Vegeta gave no heed. When she had voiced her opinion about the safety of such actions, he'd recklessly replied as expected.

"It's a party. Get used to it." He told her, in that smug face she couldn't decide if she wanted to smack or kiss. Probably both as the alcohol began to take effect. She'd never.. felt anything like it before! Her body temperature had risen far above what she normally felt it was, her cheeks hot to the touch. And why the FUCK was the room tilting when she turned her head!? When she would look side to side, it was as if the room had trouble keeping up with her vision. But then again. did she really mind? Laughing aloud, she knew she didn't. She felt carefree, she felt.. SO BEAUTIFUL! Since when had she discovered how gorgeous she was? It was like it suddenly hit her. Every male in the room wanted her. She connected eyes with millions of them it seemed, each with that alluring look in their black eyes. They all wanted her and she. wanted all of them.

Vegeta was ecstatic as he caught Bulma's seductive gaze, catching her as she challengingly lifted her fifth glass to her mouth and chugged the contents. He watched red droplets as they spilled down her chest, seeping beneath her collar line and journeying where.. no man had gone before! She caught his deep stares with only a sexy grin that sent fire into his stomach.. the batting of her eyelashes didn't help and the fact that he was near enough to her sheer dress to see just about every curve on her voluptuous body, did wonders to the imagination. Oh.. the things he'd show her. He'd introduce her to a world she'd never seen. His world. Drugs, sex and evil. Noticing the way she subconsciously licked her plump lips, he figured she'd enjoy it.

Bulma laughed whole heartedly as Vegeta's eyes widened in a failed attempt to focus. But then again, he was working on his twenty third shot of Lava. As he brilliantly grabbed the full cup, throwing it down his throat, she saw his beautifully long eyelashes flutter. He could be so cute. Everyone was cute!! She was beginning to have the strangest sensations. Utter happiness, she had felt would never grace her emotions, returned. Peace and harmony with all surrounding her was evident as she smiled graciously at the many Demons circled around the large table. She also caught the glimmer in her handsome King's eyes as he poured her yet another glass, stealing an entire bottle from a servant for their own disposal.

"Think a weak Angel can handle six shots!?" He demanded from the entire room. A million demons began to speak at once, some taking bets as to whether she would be able to handle it. Little did they all know. she'd been planning on having another one anyway! Vegeta smirk in that sexy little grin that melts my heart, silently asking if she had the guts to accept such a challenge. She raised an eyebrow, connecting eyes with him for just a second longer then needed, before turning her supreme attention to the audience at hand.

"Six shots huh?" she announced loudly. An encouraging cheer was her answer.

"Can a weak little Angel like ME take six shots?" She asked again, receiving further answers and cheers. Vegeta's grin widened, showing his proud fangs. The little imp.. she was working them up!

"How about seven!?" She yelled loudly. Throwing her glass, so graciously offered by Vegeta, down her throat she swallowed hard. Immediately, she grabbed the bottle from his hand, dipping back her head and taking MUCH more than just a simple shot. The crowd was simply speechless! Until, the room quaked with a thunderous roar of cheering at the "weak" Angel who'd just shown up their King. But Vegeta was a good sport, watching in utter satisfaction as she swallowed hard, throwing her hands into the air and crying at the top of her lungs. He almost collapsed on his ass, as she climbed on top of the table, screaming and shouting while cheering herself on! She was working the crowd immensely, and silently Vegeta wondered if such a commotion could possibly even be heard in Heaven. Wouldn't her daddy be surprised if he saw her now!

"WHO LOVES DEMONS!!??" She screamed, both hands in the air.. A window splitting cry was her answer as all in attendance, save the higher Lords and Ladies, copied her stance, raising their arms into the air and shouting loudly.

"I LOVE DEMONS!!" she laughed aloud. The place was beginning to get nearly unsettling, the screams and cheers of the horde of Demon's ricocheting off the walls. It was positively thunderous! Vegeta doubted he'd heard anything that deafening in his life. Not even in battle!

Bulma felt so good. So hot, so proud! Never mind that she was having difficulty not falling backwards off the table, not like it would be her fault even if she did. I mean.. it wasn't her fault the wooden creation insisted on tipping back and forth, back and forth. But she paid it no heed. She was home. Finally accepted by a people so different from her own. Had her own kind ever embraced her the way the black winged creatures did? So different she was from this race, and yet they set that aside, cheering her on with bright enthusiasm as if she were just another one of their own. She could hear their wild screams and exclamations at her apparent bravery.

"I love her!" a handsome young man in the front said. "I want an Angel who can drink like that!" Without a moments hesitation, she hopped off the table, sauntered over to the shocked demon and pressed her lips full and hard against his! Further cheers complimented them both as he wrapped his arms around her form, moving in with the tongue.

At first of course, Vegeta had found the remark hilarious, nearly falling off his chair in response. But as he saw her stumble towards the man and kiss him, he thought any moment the true demon side would escape. It had happened so suddenly, that it nearly made his head spin. One moment dying of laughter, the next haunted by an outraged double personality. He would have blasted the poor soul to oblivion, if Bulma hadn't pulled away just in time to smirk at him.

"Sorry," she pouted sexily at the young man, "I like the way your King kisses better."

In his normal state, I imagine Vegeta would have blown her to smithereens for announcing such a confidential matter, but at this time. it was a huge relief and compliment. To the younger man's dismay, she yanked out of his arms and wandered back to the table. Before her slow eyes had registered it, Vegeta had pulled her on to his lap, embracing her tightly, all the while laughing merrily in a way she'd seen him do very little. She smiled cheerfully up at him through half closed eyelids, before relaxing drunkenly into his chest.

"Sorry, but this Angel is mine." He teased the boy, holding her closer. A look of firm jealousy played over the 19 year olds face, before he shrugged it off and continued drinking. Bulma lay back in the Demon's muscular arms, looking up at him dazed. He smirked down at her, resting so peacefully he almost expected her to fall asleep where she sat.

Suddenly, she moved closer to his face, laying her head into the crook of his warm neck. She moaned playfully into his throat, tickling him as he ran his fingers through her shiny hair, massaging her scalp. She let out a relieved sigh as the skilled digits continued their sweet caressing. This was heaven. Her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head before her eyes caught the sight of Radditz, standing over the two with a clear look of satisfaction warming his handsome features.

'So.' he thought to himself, 'she's taming the wild beast yet.'

Her eyes widened in excitement as she saw him, and her face lit up with a normally exaggerated smile. She pounced out of Vegeta's waiting arms and buried herself in Radditz's chest, giving him the sweetest, and probably the only, bear hug he'd ever had! Vegeta's look could have set the man's hair on fire, but giving his most apologetic look, Radditz squeezed her affectionately back. She pulled back and, as if Vegeta was not being pushed enough, gave the attractively dark Demon a small peck on the lips. His big boyish eyes widened and for a split second he was sure he'd be sent to oblivion. That's how sour Vegeta's face looked. Radditz could have sworn he saw Vegeta's familiar blood vessel clusters, as always happened when he got pushed to his limits. But he merely tugged a bottle from a waiting servant and began to chug yet again, seemingly erasing his former thoughts of destruction.

'So. the Princess has become a lion tamer too.' He joked thoughtfully to himself. It was amazing that Vegeta was so open about his attraction to the Princess. And although none of the drunken blubbering fools would care to voice an opinion at the moment, eventually his affection towards the Angel would be recognized for what it truly was. Forbidden. But what probably struck him as the strangest idea was. that Vegeta wouldn't care. The young twenty four year old King had much growing up to do in the way of running a Kingdom according to tradition.

And Radditz cared deeply for the Angel, there was no mistaking that aspect, but what if this infatuation that the King was entertaining progressed dangerously, eventually becoming more? What then? He sighed, not even wanting to process the unwanted information. He couldn't change the way Vegeta felt any more than he could command the sky to fall. Plus, he imagined that even if it DID progress into something serious, Vegeta would never admit it. He was too full of pride for such a thing.

"How are you Princess," he asked warmly, lighting up her beautiful face. He'd been extremely pleased with the way her "make over" , as she so plainly put it, went. He hadn't really expected her to wear the dress, more choosing it for a pun then anything. But.. He sighed. the Angel had surprised him again, laying all modesty, she had been raised to cherish, to the side and wearing the gown with an air only royalty could pull off. She truly was a princess.

"I'm good!" she remarked happily. She seemed to have become a new person, so full of life and spunk. He wondered silently if this was what she had been like before being captured, if the woman she had become was only a shadow of her former self. He didn't like the idea. He enjoyed her spirit that showed valiantly through.

"I have to tell you something.." she whispered, gesturing for him to come nearer, which he did only hesitantly, keeping one eye on the suspicious demon, still gripping the Lava like someone might sneak up and try to snatch it away at any moment. A mischievous grin stretched her beautiful lips and a twinkled blessed her nearly crystal clear eyes.

"I love you Goku!" She squealed into his ear, so obviously drunker than he had anticipated.

She laughed at his surprised reaction, and if normal, would have realized that it hadn't been from her high pitched tone, but more so from her actual words.

"What?" she asked, offended by his deathly straightened face. He looked so.. so. dare she think the word.. SERIOUS! It wasn't really an emotion he wore often and as such, seemed.. rather odd planted on his face.

"I just said I loved you!" She repeated, clearly in the dark as to why he was dismissing her so. He shook his head solemnly, his fierce eyes examining her's.

"It's not that.." he stated plainly, almost in a strange contemptible voice. "You called me Goku.." With that, and not even another word, he walked away from her, disappearing into the thick crowd. She was not only stumped but hurt. Her concern expression shown very obvious on her face and Vegeta would honestly have had to be blind not to notice. He grabbed her waist and pulled her incredibly gently down on to his lap, more to steady her than anything. He looked at her with unimaginable puppy dog eyes that simply set her heart ablaze.

"What was his deal?" He asked in a tone that, had she been sober would have recognized the evident suspicion.

"I.. I don't know." She answered honestly shaking her head.. So she'd called him the wrong name.. It wasn't a direct insult or anything. Unpredictable demons.

"Well.. I wouldn't worry too much about it." Vegeta sighed gazing down at her in dangerously close approximation. She smirked at him almost lovingly.

"Oh? And why is that?" She asked. A larger grin found it's way on to the Demon's face.

"Mmmmmm.. Because you have more dangerous things to worry about." With that.. he moved ever so slowly towards her, cast underneath the binding spell of her ever present beauty. He was enchanted as she closed her eyes, subjecting herself to him as he planted the sweetest, shyest little kiss on her lips, before pulling quickly away childishly and looking deeply into her eyes. She smiled, closing them again and sighing in bliss, while wrapping her arms protectively around his strong neck.

He could see that she was blushing ridiculously hard but it held a very tempting amount of excitement. And so, doing what he knew she wanted him to do.. He kissed her again.

Chapter 17

Vegeta awoke slowly the next morning, his head spinning terribly. No, he was absolutely no stranger to the after effects of Lava, but each time he awoke after a binging night, he could have sworn the hang over was worse than it had ever been. It was times like these when a Demon promised them self they'd never touch the stuff again. They were going straight. This time was no exception, as Vegeta felt his brain doing jumping jacks in his skull. He moaned aloud, hardly recognizing his own voice through the thunderous sound pounding in his head. He felt as if every vein in his temples was standing out an pumping furiously, like something inside of his head was trying to escape through his forehead. It was awful.

Confusion over rid the drumming in his head, as he felt a warm, frail body lying next to him. He closed his eyes, desperately trying to recall the night's events.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Bulma had straddled his waist, one leg on either side of his lap. They were kissing, only lightly. He could still feel her warm mouth, sucking his bottom lip, while he suction cupped her top. Memories of the night of chocolate spilled into his mind, invoking even more pleasure into his already excited body. His hands slid on her lower back, making circles or simply running up and down. She purred into his lips, pushing her chest into his, allowing better access to her sensitive back. He grinned at her body pressed tightly into his own. She was incredible.

Ever so slowly, his tongue ran openly along her top lip, and he supposed, if anyone had been watching, they could have seen it visibly. She quivered at the feeling, her body awakening to feelings she'd never known existed. As he continued the torturous affection, she surprised him, taking his tongue between her lips and sucking gently on it. It was an amazing feeling, very sexual although they hadn't even done anything of the sort. ...yet. (raises eyebrow)

Connecting their lips again, she allowed him access to her hot awaiting mouth, moaning as her own tongue was tasted and rubbed by his own. He didn't know if she'd ever been kissed this way, partly he didn't want to know. But he was sure she'd never experienced anything like what he was fully prepared to give her. And with a smirk, he bit into her bottom lip, just barely enough not to break the skin. She stiffened only slightly, and finally returned the foreign gesture, digging her teeth into his swollen lip and dragging them along the smooth inner flesh. He was beyond intrigued. So, just how far was this creature willing to .. experiment? Before he could continue his.uh .oral pleasure. (raises eyebrow again) she snatched the bottle from his hand, grinning wickedly before chugging the hot drink. She let the red liquid pour down her chin, over her throat and into her dress, before putting it down and smiling through drunken, heavy eyes. He felt slightly worried that she might be drinking too much, but then, alcohol poisoning had never killed a demon or anything. So he watched her with open amusement as she nearly finished off the entire bottle. He loved her boldness, her spunk, her challenging behavior. It was almost demonic and the thought thrilled him immensely. 'That's right Angel' he thought wickedly, 'Enjoy your little drink, tonight your mine.'

Some of the red liquid still wallowed on her lips, slowly spilling down her chin like beautiful droplets of blood. It turned him on beyond belief, and he kissed her with as much passion as he could entwine into a kiss. The deepness made her eyelids flutter in desire, no doubt tempting her to believe that it actually meant something to him. Ha! Fat chance! He smirked to himself, even at the time knowing just how wrong he was. In truth, he'd developed a small. very small, he insisted. liking towards this brave creature. She was so.. unpredictable it simply amazed him. It was like reading a story filled with constant surprises one page after the next, never knowing what was coming next and yet being infatuated with the pages all the same. That was how he felt towards her, as if she were one of the secrets of the universe he was destined to uncover. He thrived on her spontaneous gestures. But did it go beyond mere curiosity and respect? He tried to convince himself that such thoughts were utterly preposterous. Of course he didn't. He knew no other feelings. And if he ever had.. he'd disposed of the diseased emotions.

The entire kingdom was wallowing in a drunken stupor, possessed by the many drinks and drugs being heavily distributed. No one even seemed to notice the incredible make out session their King and their captive were engaged in. And even if they did witness the forbidden scene, they would undoubtedly forget it by the morning. This thought made the forsaken seem ever more desirable and he held her even closer than before, feeling every bulge and curve that graced her full body. There was one emotion he would allow himself to recognize and that was. hmmm. he couldn't recall the word. happy? .. ah! Yes, happy.. that was definitely the word that most described his present state.

He couldn't even remember the last time he'd felt that way. It was so content to be with her. No more of the jealousy he'd almost been consumed by, watching her kiss the younger demon. He could have sworn his vision had been dimmed by the ever approaching demon within, when she'd turned towards him and confessed her obvious pleasure. He'd felt so honored. Just like a King should feel. But this was a whole other kind of pride that swelled into his heart, if you could honestly call it that. She'd picked him, he should not have felt so surprised, he was after all the most attractive male alive, but still. She'd announced to the entire Kingdom what a skilled kisser he'd been and he almost blushed at the fact. He'd always prided himself on that little skill, he laughed, along with others.

And so he felt content. What a wonderful word. What a wonderful life! Everything was going as planned. Heaven was finally within his reach, the Angel was becoming his more and more, and the obvious. he was getting REALLY drunk.

"Excuse me your highness." A small, trembling voice awoke him from his thoughts of self praise, and he reluctantly peeled his lips from Bulma's. He glared only half heartedly at her, still sending chills through her already quivering body. Bulma slapped him playfully on the shoulder, gesturing for the young servant girl to go on.

"Ash my Lord?" she asked, dipping her head low as she presented three lines of black powder on a mirror. He grinned, knowing he shouldn't but the ever present addiction plagued his sensibility and he took the thin straw presented, and the mirror. She bowed low before exiting his vision area, leaving him with his Angel once again.

Bulma seemed very curious as to what the substance was. She looked at it from all sides, trying to decipher why something as common as soot was being offered to the Demon King.

"What is it?" She beamed at him. He smiled devilishly at her before explaining.

"It's called Ash. It's a.. very stimulating contraption."

"Oh.. what do you do with it?" Now let's get one thing straight. Vegeta was no baby sitter, nor was he usually one to muddle into another person's curiosity, but something about her interest caught him off guard. He found himself in a bit of a tizzy. Part of him pleaded with him to thrust the straw into her hand and explain exactly what to do.

'Do it..' the voice said. 'She'll be one of us.. she'll be yours and you know it.' But the other side told him that such actions would only do more to push her away, even if not at the present. And a much deeper voice told him silently, that the thought of her trying such a strong drug was nearly frightening. He wanted her.. but not like that. Not drugged until she neither knew what she was doing, nor even what her own name was. It wasn't honorable. If he was going to win her over, it would be of her own accord. The idea of rape silently made him sick. How dishonorable. What a disgrace.

"Let me try it Vegeta." She demanded of him. Again the voice taunted him, trying to explain that she wanted it this way. But he wouldn't have it.

"No. you don't need it." He said sternly, taking the straw and positioning it along the top of a line. What? None of the voices told HIM to stop! And so he dragged the straw down, inhaling through his nose all of the powder.

"Vegeta!" she pleaded, curiosity at it's worst. "Just give me one try. Come on!" But he was bound and determined not to allow his reserve crumble. But her voice, that adorable pleading little voice, was hard to ignore, and so, although he shouldn't have and he even knew at the time, he snorted both lines. She watched pouting, while still positioned on his lap. The mental poison, absorbed into his blood, sinking wretchedly down his throat, allowing him to taste the wicked substance as it drained his mental capacities. It burned worse than the alcohol could ever, but than.. as soon as the pain had come on, it dissipated, leaving the hot and cold feeling that dwindles in an addict's soul.

It was. so.. ohhh. he couldn't make words. Had it been so long since his last time? It must have been forever he thought, feeling the world abounding around him. The movements others made we're all a dance. One big dance, to the most incredible music he'd ever heard. Was this paradise? Had he finally been allowed into Heaven? Every breath he sucked into his body felt cool and calm, stretching his lungs. He could feel the tingling everywhere she touched. Every part of her body that was pressed against his.. tingled.. tickled.. He couldn't find the words.

Looking at her face, every line, every pore was visible. She was beautiful. Much more beautiful than any painting, any mural he'd every seen. Her hair was blue. Had he never even noticed how blue it was? It was absolutely seeping with color. He ran his hands along the fine streams of blue.. was it water? Suddenly, he could feel the water on his fingertips. Her hair had turned to rivers of blue water. Like.. waterfalls..

"Vegeta." she called, in such a calming, soothing voice.. she seemed.. so so far away..

"Vegeta are you ok?" He watched her lips move for what seemed like forever. Up and down, meeting in the middle.. touching. Ohh. it was mind boggling. Everything was soooo.. perfect.

And then, as often happens when the world actually appears clear and understandable, things got complicated.

The thick wooden door to the room were thrust viciously opened by an incredible force and, though it took some time for his eyes to clear the apparition, a black haired demon woman stepped through. Her large black wings held arrogantly behind her, her dark skinned presence came closer, her fierce, unholy blue eyes searching the room of drunken, high Demons. I think it's safe to say, the light blue eyes burned from her face, simply because her skin was so dark. Her unnatural gaze, swept the audience, scanning each dim witted face, and then, much to Bulma's dismay, landed wickedly on Vegeta.

"Akasha." He whispered, feeling the air leave his body as the words seeped out. After all these years.She'd only grown more gorgeous. The ageless beauty.

Her head dress glittered as she approached, her hips swaying to an unheard music, tauntingly. Her olive skin, glimmered with rich gold hues, and she seemed to glide rather than walk each step. Her lips were large and full, and her face attractive in the extremities that few men ever witness.

Bulma looked nervously towards him, as if unsure what this all meant. But he paid her no heed, the drug fully seeping into his system and unleashing ignorance into his mind, accompanied by a distrustful lust. He knew Akasha. Every memory fluttered into his wreck of a mind, twisting and erasing the truth from knowledge. Deep down he knew he hated this woman with every fiber of his being. He wanted to kill her, to demolish her pretty little presence until not a scrap of her beauty existed. But these feelings lay dormant as instinct and blind lust began to take control.

Wisely sliding from his lap, Bulma tried to regain her composure, trying in vane to conceal her drunken state. She slipped one leg off of him, followed by the other as gracefully as she could, in an attempt to hide her lack of soberness. As Akasha stopped, her dress flowed unnaturally around her, as of it's own accord. As she grinned, her white fangs, so much like Vegeta's, glimmered tauntingly at Bulma, even in the dimly lit room.

"So.. Vegeta." She smirked, her deep throaty accent lacing each syllable.

"The rumor is true. you are keeping an Angel as a pet." Her luscious lips turned up into a wicked grin as she turned her unholy gaze upon Bulma, who shivered subconsciously under her icy stare. The demon's face twisted slightly by uncaged jealousy, as she examined the Angel whose beauty was matchable to her own. Her grin was wiped off her face so quickly, Bulma's drunk, lazy eyes had a hard time deciding whether it had ever even been there in the first place.

"The High King's daughter no less." She nearly whispered, turning back to Vegeta perched proudly upon his throne.

"Why isn't this pet on a leash?" She snapped. Vegeta only smirked right back at her, challengingly. She lifted an eyebrow silently accusing him.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

The rest became nothing more than a blur that sent shocks of pain into his brain as he tried to recall them. The darkness of the drug had taken it's final toll, unleashing it's fury into his conscience, and the last that he could honestly recall even somewhat clearly, was the anger, hurt, and lust taking over, as he savagely grasped the Demon by the hand and tore her through the palace on a descent towards his room. The rest was a mesh of moans, sweating and screams.

Coming back to the wretched present, he shook his head in utter and soul devouring disgust. And then there came the unimaginable regret that tore through his body like a quick disease, mutilating the being inhabited. And finally, he gazed in undisputed hatred at the warm, dark skin that lay next to him.

Chapter 18

Bulma refused to open her eyes. Truth be told, she'd been awake for nearly an hour,. still.. she had yet to summon enough self motivation to face the harsh reality of the day. Her eyes begged her to let them open, to observe the waiting world around them, as was their sworn job. But she denied them access, her body and her heart bruised from the "reality" life had to offer. She didn't want to admit it. Not to herself, not to anyone else. But.. she. sigh.. she had failed. All that time, planning and plotting to ensnare the Demon had miserably failed, as she became, in a sense, a slave for her feelings towards him. She cared so much for him. And it was only now that she cursed herself for being the fool that she was, and bowing down to her infatuation with him. Damn her for realizing too late how she felt. Damn her for allowing her heart to show. Damn him... most of all.

She remembered everything clearly, though she guessed as much that such remembrance could have been rare. She remembered with fondness, the stares she'd gotten when she'd pranced into the room clad in her sleezy, slip of a dress. She remembered with a slight blush Vegeta's warm kisses, his nibbles, his hugs. But most of all.. she remembered with utter distain and hurt, the gorgeous Demon that entered the large room, immediately taking his breath away. She felt her lips pout at the memory and the silent tears beckon to be set free of their prison behind her lids. She refused them. Fuck it all. It was her fault. 'You played with fire Bulma.' She scorned herself.'And.. you . you got burnt.' Unbidden the tears decided to escape, falling vertical down her cheek, or onto her nose, as she was laying on her side.

Isn't it true that when you try to convince yourself not to cry, and that there is no real purpose to it, that's when the damn things come? Well.. it was no different from Bulma, and try as she might, she couldn't cease the hurtful beads of mourning from cascading onto the bed on which she lay. She could tell without even opening her eyes, that the tears had begun forming a puddle. She continued to curse the miserable liquid, though in truth, they made her feel slightly better. They were an escape for the muddled up anger and despair that had formed in her soul. If she still had one.

She flushed with utter embarrassment, though she remained alone in her room. She'd kissed three Demons in one night. THREE! That was more people in one night than she'd kissed in her entire life, Angels and Demons alike. Did that say something about her? She'd heard the saying that "good girls liked bad boys" but this was ridiculous. She'd sinned. There was no easier way of putting it. She'd succumb to the evil that lurked secretly in her heart, allowing it to over run her thought process until she virtually had become a slave to her own desire. Imagine what she might have done had Akasha not come. Akasha. Just thinking the horrible name sent waves of nausea into her already unstable stomach. She hated her.

She knew she shouldn't, for quite possibly the dark creature had saved her from possible fornication, but the evil thought still lingered, as did many pent up emotions that should be foreign to an Angel's heart. Hell had changed her. No longer was she that naïve little Princess, virgin in mind and body. She'd had become more. But the thought had arisen a thought provoking question. Was it for the better.. or the worse?

Finally, reason over ran resolve, and her eyelids released their prisoners. She beheld her dark, Victorian room, large and spacious as it had always been. But for some odd reason, she felt like the walls were caving in on her. Perhaps the alcohol's effects had yet to ebb. But she began to remember things that she had forgotten, things she had not even been aware existed.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
She'd been crying.. ah.. yes she remembered now. She'd been crying onto Radditz's shoulder as he carried her effortlessly to her room. She'd been utterly pitiful. She knew that. She'd been sobbing something. But what? Her eyes widened as the horrible phrases came back to haunt her all at once.

"Who is she?!" She'd screamed, in a sobbing tone that only a woman could pull off.

"Why does he love her?!" She had wailed like a badgering little child who had not gotten their way. She'd buried her face into his soft neck, desperate to hid the deceitful tears that were, let's face it, coming whether she liked it or not. She was obviously still incredibly drunk, as he had ignored her, sitting her gently on the bed, in that way that only he and Vegeta had seemed to possess. He had that sad look of pity, one that she despised mind you, as he gazed down at her shaken state, wadded in a ball of covers.

"Don't look at me like I'm some helpless child Radditz!" she snarled viciously, only partly aware of how incessantly rude she was being. She knew that she sounded ridiculous, her clumsy tongue seemingly tripping up her words on purpose.

"Just answer my question!" Curse that lazy tongue, she could only imagine how retarded that had come out. He sighed sadly, sitting near to her on the bed as if to comfort her by his warm presence. Well.. it didn't help.

"She is Akasha." He spoke, as if indeed he was speaking to a child. She had momentarily pondered over scolding him for unleashing the obvious, but had decided against it as soon as he continued.

"She is the oldest Demon alive. She is ageless, blessed with everlasting beauty. No one knows how old she really is.. but we do know this. Somewhere along the way.. she had been given the power to see the past." Bulma silently was about to remark on how cheesy such an apparent "gift" that was, but was cut off in her thought process when the handsome Demon had continued.

"When I say this.. I mean she can see past lives." Ohhhh. thought the drunk Bulma, thankful for her tongues quietness before. She would have really made an idiot out of herself on that one.. as if she hadn't already achieved that title tonight.

"She is.. was Vegeta's fiancée." Bulma nearly choaked. He had breathed the cursed words, like the mere mention of them had drained precious energy from his body.

"I.. I do not believe he "loves" her.. as you so strangely put it.." he had scowled, as if she should not have even put the words Vegeta and Love into a sentence together.

"But his affection towards her.. is.. unpredictable at best. In that I am extremely puzzled.. I . I don't understand." He said shaking his head, as if in defeat.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Bulma's shoulders began to shake as she came back to reality, secretly hating herself for reliving such placid moments. She buried her face into the wetness of her pillow, sobbing into the soft, squishiness it held. She inhaled deeply, smelling only the wretched smell of Hell Lava assaulting her sensitive nostrils. She wished Radditz was there. Even if only to sit next to her, such an act would bring unrivaled comfort to a grieving soul.

She was no fool. She knew why he had been in such a haste to lead Akasha to his room. And.. and even if she were. she wasn't a deaf fool. She twisted her face in disgust as she felt the sickness wash over her like a plague of locusts. She tore herself viciously from the warm bed, dashing for her bathroom as the hot vomit began seeping from her throat, splashing on the tiles beneath her feet. She retched furiously, one worse than the next, as the rotting smell of liquor pierced her nose and eyes. Finally down to dry heaving, and remarking between wheezes that such a feeling was almost worse than actual vomiting, she gasped for breath, only feeling slightly better as the cool air slid down her passages and filled her lungs.

She was seeing stars, her body feeling beaten and misshapen as she sank helplessly to the cold, harsh floor. She wrapped her arms and feathery wings around herself, noticing only for the first time, that she was clad only in a black laced bra and underwear. She could careless as she tried in vane, to calm her cold, quivering body.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Akasha turned to face Vegeta's angered face, as she noticed his powerful breaths of air while trying to calm himself. The air was lingering around room temperature, but she remarked silently that it undoubtedly would not stay as such. As long as she had her way. She smiled wickedly at him, as if only through silence, she was marking her triumph and his eternal defeat.

"Something the matter my King?" she asked, letting the words seep smoothly out from her lips. Her rich accent laced every word, but he seemed undeterred by such language, as he glared fiercely at her, still laying on his side on the red satin canopy bed.

"I hate you." He stated firmly. For the first time in a long time, Akasha was almost surprised. So blunt he had gotten since she'd been away. But.. she sighed.. he'd always been an impetuous creature, so arrogant and proud, just as a King should be.

"Oh? Well, that's not exactly what you showed me last night." She nearly laughed in his smug face. He scowled in poorly hidden rage. 'Such a handsome man Vegeta has become.' she snickered silently to herself. Not that he had ever been anything less than beautiful, it was simply not in his blood to be otherwise, but he had grown inwardly and his control over his rage provided proof of such a transformation.

"You tricked me." He replied, with unadulterated hatred seeping into every word.

"You're nothing but a filthy whore. You disgust me." Every word was soaked in pain, hurt and anger. A combination not heard often from the King of Demons. Akasha only chuckled, immediately noting the hot temperature in response.

"Don't think you can fool me Vegeta. I know your black heart." she whispered, looking fiercely into his eyes, as if indeed she could see the stone cold member pounding wickedly in his chest.

"I know how much you care for me."

"I despise you."

"You love me." Vegeta squeezed his eyes closed, desperately pleading with the dragon clawing at his insides. 'Calm yourself.' He commanded to no avail.

"I loathe you." He hissed through his clenched teeth. He felt no love for her. He felt no love at all. He felt only hatred, and he shivered in rage, trying to suppress it's growth.

"Yes.. yes.." She mocked him.

"Just like you loathe that little Angel whore of yours." Was she trying to make him loose control? If so.. it was working marvelously. At the mere mention of Bulma, he felt the demon within begin to take over, nearly blinding his eyesight with its rage. He'd almost won her over. He'd almost made her one of them. It would have been her he had awoken to if Akasha had not come, persuading his drug infested mind into desiring what had been his so long ago. It had been as if pure instinct had taken over, leaving him only it's blubbering fool. Now Bulma would probably never speak to him again. As if reading his thoughts, Akasha laughed yet again.

"Indeed, you probably broke her pathetic, fragile little heart." She sneered, as if the idea had placed untold hatred into her body. She obviously despised the mere mention of the King's precious. Little. Angel.

"I doubt she'll ever even look at you the same Vegeta. She'll never see you for anything but a monster." The pain further infuriated the creature within, adding fuel to the burning fire trapped inside his chest. She was right, and he knew it.

"She'll never see you as anything but what you are. Nothing but a monster." His eyes filled with blood, or so it seemed as his blood vessels clustered closely together, red smoking seeping from the circles of his pupils. His fangs began to grow.. but still.. something inside was holding on.. pushing down the arrival of his inner self.

"That's right Vegeta. Let your demon take over. Let it free you of these unnecessary attachments. This isn't you. You know that. Stop pretending to be something your not!" she coached his darker side, smiling in triumph as the dead piercing look captivated his once proud eyes.

"Now show her Vegeta my love. Show her the truth. Show her.. What you truly ARE!"

And to her great misfortune. Vegeta obeyed.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Bulma was still crouched, nearly naked on the floor next to her needlessly large bed, when she heard an angry roar, shocking her into attention, followed by a shaking crash and then another as two black wings came hurling through her wall. The owner of the wings was none other then Akasha, barely covered by a thin red slip. She landed with a sickening thud at the other side of the considerably large room. Blood began gushing from her forehead, in a steady black flow, her eyes rolling back and forth in her head.

The scene had taken place so quickly, it was as if Bulma had been watching it all from outside her own body, only being awakened from her mesmerized state as she gasped in horror. The attacker slammed through the hole in the wall, knocking further pieces of concrete and stone to scatter across the broken floor. Sharp pieces of rock shattered around her, and she screamed in fear, covering herself with her bare arms and legs, trying to shield them from the slicing shards of thick stone.

"Vegeta.." she whispered, her mouth still hid beneath her arms. She was cradling her knees with her arms, breathing in quick, sharp gasps as the dark creature walked towards the other side of her room. His eyes beamed a Godless blood red, almost appearing to bleed over his lids, strange smoke dissipating in front of his face, seeping from his eyes. And to her horror, she saw the shimmer of light on his large, flesh piercing canines. He was entirely out of control, and his main target at the moment, lay crumpled beneath a large marble coffee table, trying in vane to hide from the possessed creature. His fiancée. Akasha.

Hate her as she admittedly did, Bulma felt a strong wave of pity wash over her cold heart, as she watched the visible fear shinning in the female's eyes. The betrayal. The disbelief. Or perhaps the most mind boggling feeling that Bulma got was the strong sense that something Akasha had been planning had back fired horrendously.

Bulma cowered in hopeless fear, as Vegeta's rage continued to ignite the room, causing a sensation of burning to seep into her skin. She nearly cried out as the hot air surrounding her, flew to an indescribable temperature, and she realized for the first time in her life, what it would feel like to have your flesh melted from your bones. She watched in speechless horror as the creature pulled Akasha up by the throat, holding her high above the ground while she stared back at him, wide eyed and choking on her own tongue. He laughed, a deep and purely wicked laugh, something she'd never heard, before hurling his fiancée into the far wall, nearer to Bulma.

"I'm going to kill you." He promised. His voice was tangled with an evil, possessed second voice, the two melting together to create the voice that sent chills through her over heated body. He was coming nearer. The dead creature coming closer and closer with every fallen step. Closer.. closer..close.

Bulma pushed aside her fear. Damn the captivating emotion of pity! She couldn't watch while he killed Akasha. She knew she'd never allow herself to live with the knowledge that she might have helped.

As he walked towards his fiancee's fallen, quivering body, Bulma flung herself before him, covering the shaking creature that was his target. A firm look graced her gorgeous features, although her cheeks were stained with black markings of mascara. Vegeta's blood red eyes widened, as did Akasha who stared helplessly guarded by a weak Angel. The same one she had tried to have killed, when her plan had back fired.

"Why are you protecting her!" Screamed Vegeta's multi voice. His roar was unnatural, shaking the walls at it's merciless pitch. Bulma winced, but did not move, staring deeply into his bleeding eyes, searching for some sign that the man she'd nearly given her heart to was still there.

"I won't let you kill her Vegeta!" She cried, covering the dark skinned body even more.

"If you want her dead.. you'll. you'll have to kill me first." She realized all too late that she had just made a deadly bargain. Neither would have seen the feverous grin that stretched Akasha's crazed face. Perhaps her plan would not fail after all.

Vegeta's anger again rose to unpredictable levels and her eyes widened in shock as she felt the small hairs on her arms begin to sing lightly. She worried only for a second that the hair on her head would burst into flames, before her utter fear took over that assumption.

Vegeta walked closer, placing a relentless hand around her throat. It was the first time that Bulma had even realized that Vegeta was dressed in nothing more then a silk pair of nearly black, deep red boxers and his ever present black metal collar.. His honor. Even in his demon like state, he was still so undeniably sexy she had to force her eyes to look away. She had to be strong. For Akasha. But mostly.. for herself.

He forced her roughly to her feet, nearly holding her above the ground. He wanted to tear her to pieces where she stood. To break her fragile little neck in his hands. To feel the hard bones crackle to nothing in his torturous grasp. To hear her scream and moan his name, like he had promised himself she would what seemed like days ago. Killing her would be a pleasure, but something stopped him. Told him not to, she was too important. So instead, he backed her harshly against a wall, glowering above her, wanting to bite into her quivering lips.. to make them bleed in to his mouth.

"P.. please Vegeta." She quivered, her thick lips shaking and strangling the words as she spoke them. She was afraid of him.. He fed off that blatant fear.

"Please.. you're.. you're not yourself." She swallowed hard, daring herself to look into his heartless, bleeding eyes. At her statement, Vegeta smiled drawing his body dangerously close to her's, loving how her eyes tried to force themselves away from his exposed body. 'She wants you now more than ever Vegeta.' The voices called, so far away.

"How would you know Princess?" he challenged in a deep voice, the smirk still plastered into his gloatingly handsome face.

"How do you even know who I am?" He asked, moving half an inch closer to her quaking body, so obviously frightened to death of his approach.

"You don't. You don't know a thing of who I am nor the things I do." He seethed into her face. The sad part was, at this point, she was convinced his words were true.

"Go ahead.. ask my precious." He told her.

"Ask me where I go when you're not around. What I do.. when you sit here, on your pathetic bed, in your pathetic thoughts, thinking about me." Her eyes widened at his words, the realization of her feelings towards him being thrust into her face. He knew.

"That's right beautiful.. I know you dream about me...." He smiled, his finger moving provocatively down her smooth stomach.

"Just.. like. this.." her eyes widened in embarrassment and utter rage as she realized where his destination was. But she pushed the anger back.. knowing what trouble her biting tongue could place her in. The dead look in his eyes was unsettling at best.

"Vegeta.." she whispered, turning her face away as he moved closer, his fingers dancing dangerously along the top of her underwear.

"Please.. please don't do this." She pleaded.. her eyes bearing the weight of unshed tears.

"Don't do what Angel.." he smirked wickedly, fierce eyes glowing as he positioned his hand and moved it inside of her panties.

"What do I do Bulma?!" He screamed in laughter, digging one finger inside of her.

"Tell me where I go when you don't see your precious King!" She began to cry harder as his hand grasped the side of her face, making her look at him as he painfully pushed farther upwards.

"I.. I don't know!" She sobbed wildly.

"Ohh.. you know.." He whispered, forcing her to look at him as he bent down to her eye level, his hand moving slowly within her feverishly hot body.

"You just don't want to know.. do you?.. you'd rather believe I was nothing more than a cowardous, brainless fool!". She began to grind her teeth together, scratching her nails against the wall from pain and embarrassment, although she was hearing every word he spoke.

"Well I'm going to open your eyes little Angel.." He whispered, licking her lips sensually while she gritted her teeth.

"I'm a killer little one. Do you know what I do to all who oppose me Angel? I kill them. I torture them." He seethed threateningly, two fingers bucking in and out of her.

"Not only men.. but women.. And children." He spat out in a tormented voice, almost seeming outraged at himself.

"But not only that.. Angel.. Oh. I'm far worse.." he whispered so quietly she barely heard.

"I drink their life force my little plaything.. I drink their blood. And do you know why my love?" Her eyes widened as his lips pressed nearer to her throat, though she could do nothing but beg for him to stop.

"I do it.. because I want to." With that he plunged his fangs into her neck, feeling more than hearing her scream rip through her throat, erupting painfully from her esophagus. She pressed her nails into his shoulders, breaking the skin and sending deep dark streams of blood sinking down his back.

He grabbed her thigh and forced her to straddle his waist as he sunk his teeth deeper into the soft flesh of her neck, his fingers still going in and out of her wet opening. She was being drained of all energy. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before. So painful she could scream and yet so passionate, she folded her arms around him, bending her head back to look with glazed eyes at the ceiling, looming far above.

Enjoying the easier access, Vegeta once again sank his teeth deeper into the wounded flesh, feeling the veins and matter break under his force, pushing more and more blood into his desperate mouth. He was surprised she'd pulled him tighter to her, but lavished the feeling of her hot, wet skin pressed tightly into his.

She could feel death upon her by the tugging of darkness over her eyes. Where would she go? Was she worthy of Heaven? What if not? The questions began to blur as death over came her. Bulma closed her eyes, her face looking to the ceiling, but instead seeing white skies.

"It's so beautiful." She whispered into the air through numb lips.

Vegeta's body was surged to life by the enormous energy the Angel was giving off. Her life force penetrated through his veins, giving him strength he'd never imagined. Strength enough to awaken him from the darkness. He'd never felt so alive and he knew that Bulma could tell as her strong embrace began to weaken until she hung limply in his arms. She was dying. He was killing her.

Fighting to regain control over his possessed body, he tore his fangs viciously from her throat, sending a spray of blood onto her pale face. He gazed into her dead eyes, noting that she didn't seem to be looking at him, but at something entirely different. Something that wasn't really there.

He'd never felt so invigorated in all of his life, every part of his being raging with power. He had only felt this once, on the day he had first kissed her, ripping her fragile skin and pouring her blood into his mouth. He had longed for the sensation every since that day, but had never trusted himself enough to try again, knowing he would kill her. Now he fought desperately not to bow down to the forceful temptation that blared in his head.

"Finish what you started!" The dragon screamed. "End her life in your arms. It is destined."

He stared into her paling eyes, convincing himself that he only couldn't do it for the plain fact that he needed her for ransom. The truth was, he knew he mustn't kill her because she meant something to him. He cared for her. It was a revolting fact that pushed it's way into his mind, the harder he tried to force it out.

Growling out loud, he sank his teeth into his own lips, breaking the thick skin and feeling the hot liquid drip from his mouth. He pressed his lips tightly against hers, praying that she had the strength enough to swallow. He was rewarded as her felt her mouth contort followed by a loud gulp. He tore his own skin further, pouring the seeping blood into her mouth as she helplessly swallowed, though undoubtedly unconscious.

He picked her up into his arms, still feeding her with his life, as he carried her to his room, softly placing her on his bed and pulling his lips away to gaze at her. The blood fell from her pale lips and she stared lifelessly at the ceiling as he covered her body in red satin sheets. He heard his dark side chuckle out loud at her.

"Now you see who I truly am Bulma.. and you will never change me."

Chapter 19

Her heavy eyelids opened, revealing nothing of the swirling universe encompassing her mind. The world was nothing but a foggy blur, an empty, spaceless horizon of pain, inside and out. The world was as lonely as she. as broken. Where there had once been the strong beating of her wild heart, was now nothing more then a shattered memory of what once was. She wondered if it still beat, or if it was as used up as she, dying.drowning.. in a sea of empty dreams.

She was crushed. Her body feeling as mangled as her mind.. abused.. shattered. raped. She closed her unseeing eyes. He'd touched her. The way a man should not touch anything that was not his own. In a way that a man touches no woman but his wife. He had shamed her. And now she was stuck, alone in her bottomless pit of disgrace, bound by his wretched dishonor.

She dared to look again, knowing that eventually, she would be uncovered from her solitude. She stared at the ceiling looming miles above.. or so it seemed. Perhaps it wasn't the fact that it was so high that disturbed her. perhaps what tore at her reddened eyes.. was that.. . it wasn't her ceiling. It was a shocking reflection of the fall of the first Angel. Covered from his beaming crown, to his holy feet in blood, he had been shot repeatedly by a Demon's bow. The wicked clouds manifested Heaven's tears at the fall of their savior.

But the fallen Angel was still with them, was He not? In every good deed, he was reflected, in every love.. he abounded. He was forever watching over them, like a shepherd watches his flock, caring for them, loving them. promising to stay forever. But.. .. but He was not here. Not in this Godless realm. At least she hoped not. It was not worthy of Him. She was not worthy of His love any longer. She silently prayed. that indeed He was not here.. couldn't see her in her utter disgrace.

She'd fallen from the path. The roadway leading to life and to untold love. She'd forsaken her heart, falling for a creature who knew nothing of the sort. And here she lay. cast aside by both her heart.. and the one who possessed it. She was shamed. but not even so much by him.. she had shamed herself. And she was to reap the benefits of such a misguided path.. Curse her treacherous heart! Damn it's deceitful course!

And yet still. she lay thinking of him.. of the dark, heartless creature that held her body and her heart in bondage. She knew better. She knew better than to fool herself into believing he had saved her. But the look was still there..all the same. The look.. the emotion. Had it truly past before his eye? Had her feverous decent into everlasting death, blinded her into such a false hood?

She could feel the cold tears flowing into her eyes. She didn't try to stop them. She deserved them. But.. she couldn't truly cry. She hadn't the strength. Emotionally and physically she was drained. And so she let the silent beads flow smoothly down both awaiting cheeks, cooling considerably on her frozen, deathly pale skin. She wouldn't whip them.. not that she had the power to move her arm yet anyways.

But the thought still plagued her unworthy soul. Why had he stopped? Such a simple question, you'd think the answer could be simple as well. In that.. you would be wrong.. For was it only for a ransom that he spared her? Or had there been something more? Curse her wandering thoughts! Had they not deceived her enough already? Must they blaspheme her further?

She missed home. She missed the answers.. the simplicity of it all. But to be most blunt.. She missed Yamcha. Sweet, boyish Yamcha with his shallow mind and simple thoughts, as readable as a child's first book. Not that such qualities were exactly redeeming, but after the complex situations and utter confusion, nothing seemed more exquisite than a simple mind. A kind heart.

But not only had she ruined herself, she had violated him by caring for Vegeta, his opposite in every conceivable way. She was guilty. Her foolish heart had betrayed her, causing her to feel emotions that should not be there. She loved Yamcha.. By all the stars in Heaven she loved him!!

But then.. here she was.. sleeping in the Devil's bed because of her straying emotions. She had disgraced their pure love. She had stained it's crystal clarity by lusting after a beautiful monster. A heartless creature of Hell, impure motives constantly coursing through his jaded veins. And she'd fallen victim to his prey, willingly, running like a small animal into an obvious trap.

She was too weak to stop the tears now streaming mercilessly from her emotionless eyes. Even if she'd had the strength, she refused to hinder them. They were her only proof that deep down. a soul still existed though she had nearly sacrificed it for a handsome face. Her eyes were nearly blinded by the soaking tears that puddled at her rims. But she did not need vision to sense the intruder that lurked in the shadows of his own room.

He loomed over her, a strange.. unreadable look on his face. Something in his expressions nearly represented a sense of horror before being replaced by a calm.. resolute sadness.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% %%%%%%%%%%

He had thought she was dead. Staring straight at the ceiling, would she ever know how sick such thoughts had made him? Would she ever know how many times he'd thrown up in a worry that he could neither understand nor describe? Would she ever know how many hours he'd watched her, feeding her his own blood to heal the wounds on her neck and keep her heart beating? It was no mystery that a demon's healing process was twice that of an Angel, and he had used such a power to keep her alive. But still, her eyes were crystal clear, the type of clearness you only see in those close to death. Her skin tone further ignited the feeling of rare fear. She was ghostly pale.

He had sat by her bedside through countless hours. He didn't even know how long it had been, for the sun had set and arisen in time, and now was falling rapidly from the red sky. He'd simply watched her, fearing that if he turned his eyes away at any given moment, she would choose then to slip away.

Would she hate him forever? Did he not deserve such a fate? He had hurt her physically and mentally. He'd nearly killed her weak body. and if that was not enough he had nearly desolated her strong mind. He'd treated her roughly and stronger than he'd ever felt, the guilt washed over him repeatedly. Reminding him of the way he'd touched her.

How could he do that? How?! He had treated the one, whom he had deemed worthy of respect, like a common palace whore. Like she was nothing. He had pained her deeply in his violence and now was reaping the consequences of such a disgraceful act.

But through it all.. he almost wished he had killed her. For his hatred for the Princess had only spread through the loathing of such weak emotions he was being bombarded with. Guilt..Sadness. these were of no use to the Demon King. He should never suffer such tasteless feelings that tore at a man's soul. So why did he feel so strongly for her? As if.. by some magical spell, he was constantly being drawn to her. He was above such petty attachments. They would not rule him or his kingdom.

And through all of the conflicting feelings, there was the ever present anger.. Anger at himself, yes. obviously. For he hated that he'd been reduced to taking a woman against her will. Such a blatant dishonor to himself and his throne. He was in such anger that he had torn his metal collar from his throat and tossed it across the room. He had no honor and thus should not wear it, the proud symbol of his family. But through all of the self loathing.. he was angry at her.

A question of unimaginable magnitude plagued his rotting mind. Why had she protected Akasha? Didn't the fool know what that heartless bitch had done to him?! And that's just about when he'd slapped himself ridiculously hard. For she didn't know. How could she? Just because such a wretched tale was known throughout Hell .. did not by any means suggest that creatures of Light had been informed. And so he hung his head and looked at her, feeling like a bigger idiot then he'd ever even encountered.

He stared into her lifeless eyes and despised himself all the more so. For the magical orbs, constantly burning with furious reserve, were now empty. Still beautiful with the pale skin, and ivory hair.. he couldn't help but feel that now.. she was no more then the shadow of the proud creature she was before.

'So Vegeta,' he told himself in a hostile voice, 'You got your wish. You broke her you fool! Are you happy now?!'

He wanted to crumble to the ground and sleep, forget the crazed world he had infected with his rage. To stop having to stare into those empty eyes that tore at his chest. But as much as he wished he could delete such a scene from his mind, he couldn't tear his gaze away. And so he merely loomed over her. never moving. never speaking. as the only signs of life.. Slid silently down her moist cheeks.

He felt pain. Actual pain in his body that he doubted any mortal blade could inflict. It pounded over and over in his chest, twisting the invisible knife mounted in his heart. He'd never felt anything like it. and he wondered.. only silently.. if it was indeed coming from her. Was he feeling her pain? If so.. he could only curse his miserable existence further. He felt like he'd killed her. Torn away the ever present fire in her eyes, leaving her nothing more than an empty reminder of what once was.

Slowly, he extended his cold hand to touch her forehead. She winced from his touch, causing a deep fury to ignite in his belly, though not against her.. but himself.

"You have a fever." He remarked simply because he could not find anything better to say.. For how would you exactly talk to someone you'd nearly raped and murdered the day before? Not exactly the type of conversation you'd start with the usual.. "How's your day" theme.

She whispered something so quietly, not even his over sensitive ears had picked it up. And so, hesitantly, he leaned forward, gesturing for her to repeat herself.

"..Kill..me." she breathed into the air. But it had been enough.. he had heard every syllable as it filled him with pain. He recoiled like a snake burned by a oiled torch. How could she. How could she ask him that?! He'd almost cried out in his detestment of her request. How dare she ask such a thing of him?

"N-no.." he replied shakily, not even noticing the weak quiver in his tone, as he processed in his spinning mind what she had just demanded of him. For once.. he realized.. the ransom meant nothing to him. He would not have done it for anything. He could not have done it for anything. He knew the ransom was of no consolation at this time.. he refused to even try to pretend it was. He was through lying to her. But mostly.. he was through lying to himself.

"I hate you." She began to sob, her broken body convulsing up and down, though she tried to hide it. His eyes betrayed him.. for they openly confessed the feelings of hurt and of pain that threatened to rob him of his pride. His eyebrows were drawn subconsciously upwards. He was saddened and made no attempt to conceal the evidence. It would have been there despite his weak attempts.

"I hate you." She repeated, enclosing her body with her arms.

"I love Yamcha.. and you stole me from him!" she accused, spitting the words out as loudly as her raspy, unused voice would allow. To be honest, though if you ever asked him.. you'd probably be blasted into the next life, her words really stung him. Curse that pathetic fiancée of hers! He straightened up, pretending to be in control.. though he felt like a child.. cowering in her mercy.

"You will be returned to him. I promise." He told her.. though in truth he despised making such suggestions, simply because he knew he must honor them. It was against his families pride to make a promise and not keep it. though in secret.. he detested the code of honor.

"Don't you see you idiot.." she shook her head, trying to cover her face in her hands. He hated her tone and most of all her words, but made no mention as he sat gently next to her, noticing how she inched away from his loathsome presence.

"I can never be with him.you've. you've dishonored me Vegeta. You ruined me. WHO IS GOING TO WANT ME NOW!!" She screamed! The tone hurt but less then that words. Did she really feel that way? Like she was nothing because of him? He cursed his dragon's actions for the thousandth time. Why did he touch her like that? He would never have done that if he hadn't lost control. Damn that Akasha! Damn her back to him so that he could take out every bit of pent up fury on her wretched little body!

"Princess.. I.." he stammered. But her sobbing coated every word, making it unhearable as she bawled incoherently.

"Don't you get it Vegeta.." she wailed, crawling onto her side and embracing her lifeless body.

"I can never return home. I can never just go back. Don't you see..It's gone.. my life.. I.. " she couldn't even speak through the tears. And so they remained silent, he, awaiting her response, and she, waiting for sanity to return. What seemed like hours was only a few minutes until the hysterical moans and sobs were reduced to seeping liquid heartaches.

"Nothing can ever be the same Vegeta. I've.. I've become another person. I.. I'm not who I was before. I've been tainted. How could I possibly return to him only an outside disguise of the dark creature that lurks within? I'm jaded Vegeta. I'm not a Princess.. I'm not even an Angel.." her body began to be wracked with silent sobs once more. "I'm nothing."

How could he possibly convince her of how wrong she was?

"Princess. I.. do you not see?" He stated slowly, though lacing each word with sincerity. He wanted to assure her of such untruths. She meant so much more to him than even he himself could fathom. Was that nothing? He wanted so badly to hold her.. to let her weep her pain onto his shoulder. To warm her tender soul with the lack of his own.

"You are not nothing. But you are right.. you have changed.. you are different." He repeated, nearly smiling down at her.

"You are something more."

She stared up at him in silent disbelief of his kind words. She shook her head, closing her sore eyes.

"How can that be? I'm evil inside Vegeta. A demon.. forever trapped in the body of an Angel. I am nothing." She whispered. Would she never come out of this self destructive trap? What did he have to do? It wasn't like consoling grieving woman was a common every day occurrence for him. He was actually finding it quite unsettling.

"But that creature inside makes you strong Angel. Use it." Before he'd finished his reply he regretted it. A deep scowl crossed her features.

"Use it like you Vegeta?" He felt the stinging slap of her harsh comment.

"Use it to intimidate helpless woman? To nearly kill them?!" With each word that she spat, he felt his body slink further and further away.

"You're a monster! I hate you even now! Imagine how that will grow when you take over Heaven." His eyes widened, unknown to him. She smirked, though it was so unbelievable obvious she found nothing even remotely humorous in this situation.

"What? You believed an empty headed, naïve creature like me never pondered on such things?" She seethed through tightly clenched teeth. "Stupid Angel." She mocked.. "So easily fooled.. so quickly manipulated.. so foolish that she does not even wonder over the future." She glared so harshly at him, he could have sworn for a split second she'd become someone else.

"You think I don't know what will happen if you succeed? You think I don't know that everyone I've ever cared about with be dashed to nothing in your wake? Will I even have a home Vegeta? Or will that too be reduced to spoils in your triumph?"

He looked at her.. not even daring to reply. What could he possibly say to dissuade her from such reasoning, when he knew it was right? He could lie.. say that she was wrong and her loved ones would be spared at his mercy. But he wouldn't. She would have known the difference either way.

"My heart is as shattered as my dreams. Or should I say my future? Your kind will destroy generations of what Angels have acquired. Balance will be thrown to the winds. And you will rule as you always have. Embodied in your own heartless demands, the universe forsaken by the known God. And with your rise.. I am deemed my fall." The bottoms of her red rimmed eyes were again tearing up, but she noticeably refused them.

"Nothing can be what it once was. I will never be with my father. I will never marry Yamcha.." she spoke the words with such calm finality, it was as if she were signing her own death warrant.

"I will never have my own home.. and I .. I.." the unbidden tears surfaced again, cascading in their usual way down her soaked cheeks, as if their supply was unlimited.

"I will never have a family.. never be a mom.." The suggestion cut Vegeta deeper than she'd ever be able to know. Before he could catch himself, he had scooped her into his arms, holding her trembling form and warming her with his body. He could careless what a weakling he had been reduced to. He knew she was right in her assumptions. As if he had not caused her enough hardship at this point.. she knew times would only get worse. And so he embraced her in a bear hug, smoothing her quaking back and whispering over and over words that long ago he'd sworn he'd never allow his lips to utter.

"I'm sorry.." he breathed into her hair.. "I'm so sorry."

But not yet had he released her into her prison of solitude, when she replied in a dead cold fury. words that would haunt him forever.

"That is why I hope you die tomorrow."

Chapter 20

"I hope you die." Those words had infested his mind and were seeping farther into his thoughts. They sang over and over in his head like an annoying song that you can't get rid of. The only problem was.. this was no song.. and it wasn't annoyance that plagued his disintegrating mood. It was hurt. She had meant those words. She had meant them from the bottom of her pure heart. The heart she now believed to be rotting in her chest just because she had taken pleasure in something foreign to what her conscience told her.

And what exactly was good and bad? How can you decipher the difference really? Are there guidelines that he just didn't know about? Were there hard and fast rules that he'd simply been oblivious to all this time? What a preposterous idea anyways. What might seem completely civil in one land could be envisioned as barbaric in another. But did that necessarily mean that it was bad? He thought the idea was nothing more than out right foolishness. Who exactly decides what's "good" and what's "bad" anyways? Were the Angels to set all of the universe's standards?

But there she lay.. even this morning. Cuddled into a grieving ball of self pity, believing that she was ruined. Nothing more then spoiled goods. Empty because she no longer felt like an Angel. Bah! Ridiculous. What a weak race! How savage on their part to believe that something they had done in ONE night could permanently erase what they were. They should have more faith in themselves than that.

Take away any part of a Demon.. and still he would remain what he had originally been born. Take away his honor..his pride. and still his black heart remains. You could even so much as tear the wings from his back, replacing them with a set of white.. and still his true nature remained. It was not something that certain temptations or emotions could destroy. But he supposed Angels.. in all their emotional weakness could not be persuaded by such practical reasoning. They certainly were an insolent race at times.

He stood amongst his thousand warriors, thinking not of the deal at hand, but of the way she'd looked as she slept. He hadn't gotten much sleep.. the sofa he had perched himself upon was about as comfortable as sleeping on rocks, and truth be told.. he'd spent much of the night checking on the Angel sleeping in his bed, making sure all of her vitals signs remained in tact.

Nappa, Commander and Chief of his armies, stood by his right side, gazing in pride at the small but efficient number of men, he himself had personally trained. He knew the possibility for a real battle lay slim at best.. but he had made it his business to assemble his strongest warriors just in case the bastard Angel's got feisty. Barbaric group of idiots. He secretly wished the Angels would give his Master an excuse to tear them apart.. but he sighed knowing such was simply wishful thinking. This was.. after all, just a meeting to come to terms with the Dark Lord's demands. Nappa longed to see that heart wrenching look grace the High King's face, when Vegeta returned his daughter in pieces. For no doubt Vegeta had no intention of carrying out his part of the deal. At least he had not at first.

But you see.. Nappa was one of the many Lords and Ladies present at the high table during the demonic celebration. Although I'm sure you could decipher as much that he was not one of the intellectual types discussing politics, for he imagined such topics a waste, he had witnessed the many affectionate scenes between the two. At first he had laughed, as had many knowing men in the audience, suspecting their provocative King was making sport out of the virgin Princess. And, he had remarked with a raised eyebrow, who wouldn't have with her strutting around in that gown!? But after some time, he had watched the display with interest.. noting.. just. curious things.

Now what kind of guard would Nappa be if he did not know his King? Well.. the answer is simple really.. he wouldn't be his guard. Now to say that Nappa knew his King would be a definite understatement. For the royal guard had been with his Lord from the day he'd been conceived by the beautiful Queen Sasha. These thoughts brought a rare smile to his attractive face. And I say attractive honestly. For do you believe that a man would honestly shave his head completely bald if he didn't have facial looks to back it up? Besides the obvious.. Vegeta did not allow ugly guards into his elite squad.

And so the odd rarity of a smile graced his face, recalling what a savage little beast young Vegeta had been. His constant screaming demands. Even his fierce scowl had an air of intimidating fury, even as a small tike locked in his crib. And after rendering his first kill.. my what a cocky runt.

But as he grew.. Nappa began to have a secret care for the handsome creature. He held his father's proud stance and masculine authority, but possibly more intriguing, his mother's rare beauty. Nappa could remember clearly Vegeta's mother. Ahh Queen Sasha.. forever to remain in the black hearts of her followers. Had it truly been that long since Vegeta's father had torn out her heart? Ahh. it must have been ages. What a fine woman she had grown to be. Very honorable. Much like her son. At least one of them.

Nappa had taught Vegeta the value of appreciating the enemy. And how to efficiently use the victim to your advantage. He had effectively demonstrated how to train strength from your aggressor, by plunging his teeth into the throat of a young Angel. He had taught the spicy young Prince how to add speed, strength and quicker healing from simple blood. Angel blood was by far the most appetizing and strong.

Nappa held no regard for the "right as firstborn." What did it matter now that Vegeta had taken Draco's place and was ruling with authority and brilliance that his awful brother could never even imagine? It was no concern and the new King should not be looked down upon. Besides.. the giant thought with a small smirk.. Vegeta was far prettier than his homely brother. Draco looked nearly identical to his father. Much too masculine for Nappa's picky tastes. It was the feminine qualities that Vegeta possessed that kept him in Nappa's ultimate favor.

And so all of his life, Vegeta had been under Nappa's constant care, favored openly. So you can imagine that he could see each disturbing revelation as it unfolded. Perhaps it had been a twitch of the eyebrow.. no no.. maybe a look that past his eyes.. no. . well whatever it was, it had most certainly been there that night. Whether or not it was only effects of Ash.. Nappa simply did not know. But the fact was.. it had been there a lot lately. And it unnerved him deeply. For a Demon King must never fall underneath an Angel's spell.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ @@

Vegeta was miserable. Who would have guessed a mere woman's words could inflict such numbing pain. An Angel no less. Bah! Damn her. Of course she would hate him. Of course she would want him dead! He was her captor! Her enemy. So why did he not feel like one? 'So many questions..' he sighed. Ever since he'd kissed her, he'd been bombarded by raging emotions. Things like that just didn't happen to him. And since he had allowed his vampire instincts to over come him, he could have sworn even more conflicting feelings had rampaged through his empty chest. Had her blood effected him somehow? The idea frightened him somewhat, yet another unwanted characteristics plaguing him lately. Such an idea was not unheard of.. and that was the problem.

"I wish I had never met her.." he breathed, so entwined with thought that he didn't even realize he'd just professed his statement outloud.

"What my Lord?" Nappa asked in confusion.. giving him that look. You know.. that parental look saying "I know your minds been wandering". well.. MY parents have that look anyway..

"Uhh." Vegeta stammered for words that would sound close to the incoherent ramblings he'd just voiced, when coming up with nothing decided to go with authority.

"I said..Let's move out!" He commanded. Nappa checked his face.. giving him yet another widely known look.. saying "I know your lying but I'll let it slide" before thrusting his fist into the air.

"MOVE OUT!!" He hollered. Vegeta could have sworn Heaven heard his belligerent bellowing. His thoughts quickly perished as a deep rumble of a cheer echoed through the burnt land, before strong black wings began to beat in unison. A thousand pairs of feet rose from the ground, swarming like a blinding plague of locust as they tore through Hell in a deafening mob.

They set off towards the barrier, a fear inspiring sight to all who would have been graced with such a frightening scene. They covered the dark land like shadows, Vegeta leading them proudly, though subconsciously he was lying next to a beautiful platinum blue haired creature on his bed.

Flying above a lake of blood, he cast a devious look at his gorgeous reflection. Hard chrome covered his entire body, heavy and burdensome to any normal man, but he wore it with pride. It had been his father's favorite armor before he had unfortunately met his end. His mother had always liked it.. or so Draco had told him. But Vegeta was a somewhat stylish type and always wore his wardrobe with pride. A dark black metal covered his chest, shaped like a dragon. It's talons almost seemed to burst from his breast as he heaved in stubborn air. But perhaps his more favorite, was the frightening appearance of his face.

He had insisted on remodeling his Father's old armor, and as such, lavished the rest of his body as well. Black metal traced along his cheeks like thick tiger strips. Done magnificently by the, now late, royal seamstress, it gave him a monstrous affect, creating even more satisfying terror in the heart's of all who dare to openly appose him. The strips cradled his strong neck, sweeping out to allow visible access to the black collar of family honor that proudly clung to his throat. On his arms he wore a gripper. Such an excellently brilliant creation from that fool Oolong was certainly a surprise. The gripper clung tightly to a Demon's elbow, covering his arm to the wrist, covering over the knuckles, in a thick, pitch black metal. The true genius was displayed inside, for with a simple flick of the wrist, or a pressurized fist, four blades were released from the knuckles, ready and willing to cling to a fallen man's flesh and tear it from the seams.

Vegeta did not need such weapons, though they made killing much quicker and understandably funner. Though they made killing easier, he enjoyed the feeling of mounding flesh beneath his sharp fingernails as he slashed an enemy's throat. He loved the wetness that splashed onto his face as the veins in the neck snapped and decapitated the already dead body. But most of all.. he loved to taste his victims as Nappa had shown him what seemed like an eternity ago.

Always do it quickly and smoothly. Draw out only what you need and discard the rest. Pressurize your body until you can feel the blood pumping quicker through your veins and then the miracle drug would take it's effect.

Despite all of his previous misery, Vegeta smiled wickedly in utter glee. For fighting was by far his most skillful activity. If only he could find a creature worthy of such talent that could actually present a challenge to him. But ah. strength in numbers was also good. But secretly he figured he would not get the chance to test his abilities today. This was business, the only reason why he had gathered only a small amount of warriors. Now you may think that a thousand Demons sounds like an awful lot, but in truth, it was a small number.

Vegeta gazed out at the dry cracked ground that was Hell's desert. This was no pleasant place he ruled over. This was.. well.. Hell. The barren waste land held a hopeless aura. This was the place that haunted many Angel's nightmares. This place was home. He wondered sometimes if at one point it had not been more than this. He could not imagine what was missing, for this was the only land he had know all of his life. But he got the distinct feeling that Heaven looked nothing like this.

Between the three of us.. You, me and Vegeta.. He had always been fascinated by the idea of Heaven. Was it as horrible as everyone said? Then why the jealous envy of Angels? If both were so fixed on being content with where they were, then why even bother with the clichés? Why even detest each other? But the truth was simply this. Heaven was beautiful.

How could it not be? Every painting, every drawing.. always displayed handsome or feminine creatures at the fullest extent of attractiveness. Besides.. his subconscious smirked. A rather erotic Angel had come from such a place and it certainly had done her no wrong. She was by far the fairest creature he'd ever laid his unholy eyes upon. So it couldn't be all bad.. could it? He demanded himself to remember to ask her about such things next time he saw her.

Now that brought out a grim thought. She'd probably never talk to him again! He almost couldn't blame her. He would have killed himself if he'd undergone what she had that night. It wasn't right. It was bad. And although the definitions of such words were yet to be deciphered. he knew that in this case. what he'd done was very bad. He wondered if he'd be punished eventually for such a crime against an innocent. It had been said that eventually things catch up to you. But nothing had "caught" him as of yet, and he smiled at that welcome thought.

But I suppose that's about when he noticed the thick, white line stretching miles upon miles across the rising horizon, as millions upon millions of white winged warriors flew towards them.

Chapter 21

Time stood still as a thousand pair of eyes gazed at the thickening line of light cascading across the far horizon.

"There.. there must be millions of them!" Stammered Nappa. His black eyes were wide and his mouth dropped insolently. Vegeta felt the overpowering urge to reply "DUH!" to the obvious but decided to show a rare and small amount of dignity to his right hand.

"We'll be outnumbered hundreds to one!" Continued the large man in shock. Now.. if you were to say that Nappa was a cowered, deeming that you lived long enough to utter the words, you'd be wrong. Nappa knew only honor and loyalty to his King and would never display less. Still, the idea of willingly coming head to head with an army of well trained Angelic soldiers was close to suicide. I mean come on.. it's understandable that he would have a small fraction of a doubt that . hmmm.. let's see.. THEY'D GET CLOBBERED!

Vegeta pondered on what course of action to take. Why were there so many? The High King knew that this was only a meeting to discuss terms.. so why the large number? He swallowed, still not being certain of the answers.

"Let's continue!" He shouted. Well.. I suppose he wouldn't have figured that his men would exactly give a triumphant cheer or anything .. but the response he got was. . let's just say, a little less than satisfying. Dumbfounded faces were his only movement. He could almost see the options running through their meager little minds.

'Hmm.. Do we abandon our army and our King, therefore disgracing ourselves eternally and facing his certain wrath, if he managed to pull whatever pieces of himself that were left, back to the castle. OR. face a furious mob of sword totting Angels?' Before any of the fools could really pick which one, Vegeta sighed, his eyes making their rounds with a death stare.

"Alright you fools.. I'll put this in your language!" He announced as if he were talking to a room full of complaining children. Well. maybe in the way that Vegeta would talk to a room of children anyways.

"The High King is not foolish enough to jeopardize the life of his only daughter by raging a war with me. She means too much to him." Between you and me.. I think even ever confidant Vegeta was doubting the words as he spoke them. But then.. maybe I'm wrong.

"His distrust of me. understandable as it may be.." he received a few semi pleasing laughs, "Can be the only reason for his ridiculous number of men. My guess is that they are a back up plan in case the "lowly Demon King" changes his fickle mind." He snorted sarcastically, in that mocking tone only he could pull off with such little humor.

"Therefore, we will continue. Anyone who does not." He pointed a finger accusingly at each set of eyes in the front row.

"Will be my personal target practice for as far as he can make it." The sadistic look was in his eyes, like maybe, just maybe, part of him was actually wanting someone to decline his command. With his promised threat, his feet left the ground once more, his powerful wings pounding the harsh air and sending storms of dust into his men's eyes, before they themselves rose from the cracked floor of matted sand and followed him.

Nappa was pleased, as always, with his King. Although beauty often suggests lack of brains, it was obviously not so with Vegeta. He was an honorable man, if only simply for his intelligence. And Nappa was not in denial. He knew he had never been much in the brains department. He wasn't even about to pretend he was, for such an act would simply be further proof of his ignorance. But instead, he focused on his more redundant qualities, such as the fact that he was only second to Vegeta in ingenious fighting abilities. Who do you think the proud demon had learned all of his skills from? His father? BAH! The man couldn't be bothered to spend any amount of time with his second born.

Nappa wondered if this was part of the reasoning behind Vegeta's merciless decent of the throne. Draco had always held utmost importance in his father's eyes. After all, what use was Vegeta if he would never be King anyways? His father had viewed him as nothing more than a bothering waste of space, never, except on the rarest of occasions, spending time with him. It was Draco who would descend upon the throne. Draco who would uphold the family honor. Draco who would wear the black metal collar around his neck in pride. So what purpose was there in teaching the second born any useful fighting skills? He was only a pampered momma's boy after all. He had no use for such things.

But ahh.. how the former King had been wrong. For inside of Vegeta burned a jewel that Draco could never possess. Vegeta was full of pride. And to have it cast away from him for so much of his life was the largest insult a man could bestow upon the feisty young Prince. And so they had trained in secret for many years, Nappa teaching him skills that would be useful in his future over throw. Not that his success had not surprised Nappa.. oh it had! But he had known all along that one day Vegeta would try. It was just his job to make sure he either lived or died with honor.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Vegeta may have sounded calm and resolved, but on the inside, he was burning with an intensity he had not felt in years. Four to be precise. Had his judgment been altered by the animal inside, longing for a good fight? He remembered this feeling clearly now. and it brought back incredible memories at the thought.

The day had come, as expected days always do, that he had been pushed over the edge. His fury that day had not burned it's intensity towards his father, as it usually had, but instead towards his brother. The wild fire burning in his chest stirred the dragon within, haunting him with an unharbored rage. It was almost uncontrollable, but he fought down the urge to let it over come him and followed his father to the farthest parts of Hell before commissioning his deadly challenge.

He remembered the feeling of destiny as he stood eye to eye with his father. Other than the harsh black beard that graced his masculine face, Vegeta might have been looking in a mirror. He could even remember the rage coursing through his veins as his father once again underestimated him. Looking him over with that insolent glare as if he were nothing more than a petty distraction! Like he had done all of his life! Curse the man who dare to look down upon him! His underestimation would be his ultimate down fall! And Vegeta would be sure of that.

"You cannot win Vegeta." His father said as if his twenty year old son was instead a five year old trying to play tag.

"It is your brother's promised title."

"It is MY destiny!" He had stated triumphantly, each word, each syllable pushing him farther and farther over the edge. Do you ever do that? You know.. when your really upset and someone says something to piss you off further.. and then when you answer them it's like each word makes you angrier? Well.. maybe it's just me and Vegeta then. but even so.. It was like adding 151 to a fire. Dangerous. Deadly.

"If it is your destiny to die trying," The temporary King cocked his head to the side, "Then so be it."

At those commanding words, a dual of startling and unimaginable magnitude had begun. Shocking powers collided in a deadly clash of uncanny depths, each raising their energy higher and higher as the hours progressed, each being more and more secretly impressed. Vegeta had not missed his father's anger and frustration as it grew with each passing blow.

It was like, with each hit he landed successfully, Vegeta was taking back every ounce of honor his father had denied or stolen from him. It was like it had all happened before, he was fighting the monster that had held him in bondage his entire life, and making him pay. It was beautiful justice to see that indescribable look pass over the King's face as he realized the unmistakable truth. He was loosing.

They stood straight, looking hard at each other as a moment of rest had overtaken them. The sky was spitting flames above them, scorched from their immense power. Thunder clapped around them and jolts of electricity tickled in their hair. They had been fighting for nearly two days, the atmosphere quaking around them, shaking the earth beneath their feet, as Hell lay in the balance. Both bled virtually everywhere, some wounds even beginning to heal as the long battle had progressed. They stood, only feet away, panting and glaring as fiercely as their broken bodies would allow.

"Vegeta.. you cannot win." Retorted the King haughtily, sounding much more convinced then Vegeta imagined he really was.

"Come my son.. let us put an end to this ordeal." As if kindness would really work. It seemed the confident King was running out of options. But determination was not lacking in the young Prince and that much was evident as he smirk boldly into his father's bloody face.

"Oh? So I cannot win hm?" Vegeta had laughed.. LAUGHED in the Demon King's smug, sweating face.

"I know the truth father, how very characteristic of you to attempt it's concealment."

"P. Please my son.." Utterly run out of options, strength and pride, the Dark Lord had stammered out the only choice he had left. Pity. Though secretly, he knew it was an empty plight.. but would you not have given it a whirl either way?

"I will make you my right hand. What is mine I will make your's. You can have anything you desire."

"Anything my little black heart desires." Vegeta had grinned, in that sexy cocky manner only he can achieve and make my stomach do twirls.

"Everything but the throne that is.. Am I correct father?" Hot rain poured, evaporating into burning steam as it touched his fiery aura. A sick look crossed the King's face.

"I cannot give you that. You know that young Vegeta. Do not ask me for something you know even I cannot bestow." A beam of unbidden rage grasped Vegeta's stone cold heart and he snarled, baring his sharpened teeth. The King backed away in fear at this new predicament. Ignoring his child all of these years had caused a deadly insolence that proved to be against him in the long run. He had no idea what the handsome Prince was capable of, nor the wicked creature that stirred within.

"Then I will take it. BY FORCE!!" He had not even registered that he'd been hit, until the King lay on the ground, gazing up at his son's bleeding eyes, his cheek in bloody shards from the wicked blow.

Vegeta knelt over the broken body, gazing at the man that had haunted his dreams and tortured his reality.

Is it true that we all must face our private ghost sometime? You know.. the one fear, the one road block that keeps us from our life. In the long run, I believe that we all must conquer something in our paths, before we really see the beauty that life can possess. Whatever that stumbling block may be, we must defeat it to truly open our eyes. For Vegeta, his ultimate burden lay in a shallow pool of blood, encircled by his approaching end. How was it that all this time, he had actually feared this man, this .. crumpled heap of a man, that now lay beneath his gaze, broken like a shattered vase. Damn him for hindering his dreams.

Vegeta raised his hand behind him, still looking fiercely into the cowering man's eyes. He remembered. He remembered each time he'd been taught his lesson.. each time his deceitful tongue had betrayed him. He remembered every. single.. time. The massive abuse no child should endure. The starvation. The bloodied screams. The pleas for some mercy.. some compassion. Never!.. not once answered!

He wanted to scream at his father. to make him remember each time. To scream at him for leaving a six year old in a dungeon full of rotting men. To leave him there without food no less. He wanted his father to still have the moist taste of flesh in his mouth. To.. feel the bloated bodies pressing up against him at night, his only warmth.. his only sustenance.. and.. more privately.. his only companions.

'I wish you could have talked to them father.' He only commented in his twisted mind. 'I wish you could have layed in a pile of torn flesh and spoke with rotting corpses, thinking that they would reply if you talked long enough. if you said the right words.' Sad that the fallen warriors had and still were .his best friends.

But Vegeta said none of this. He only raised his fist back and looked pleadingly into his father's eyes. 'Say something.' He cried into his hollow mind. 'Say something damn you! Tell me something.. tell me I made you proud.. tell me anything.' He could still hear himself screaming into his head. He felt the kind of sadness no Demon feels. And since then had long pushed it away as weakness of a twenty year old.

'Just don't ignore me.. please.. don't forget about me again.'

I'm going to tell you something that can NEVER be uttered to another soul. I mean it.. for if this information got out.. *sigh.. I cannot even imagine the consequences to Vegeta's ego. But. What Vegeta was really asking.. was for his father to love him. He knew he would never hear the words.. but.. but maybe if just once he could see it.. just to see that look that Draco took for granted. In truth.. Vegeta more than anything wanted to scream out.. three of the simplest words.

"Just love me!"

But he never said them. Not a word of what might have possibly tipped the scale. For had the King said anything. anything at all. Perhaps.. no .. I should not say perhaps. If the King had simply said he was proud of Vegeta's acquired strength.. Vegeta would have allowed him to live.

'Do it Vegeta.' coached the dragon. 'You must kill him.'

Vegeta wanted to destroy the voice. To gather his dying father into his arms and scream for his love. To ask him why .. why he shunned him so.. what he had done to deserve his constant approach. But mostly.. . to ask him what he had to do to make him proud. But instead, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, adding immense power into his raised fist.

"This is for all of the times you made me strong. Father." He whispered through clenched teeth.. clenched not in hatred.. but hurt and actual pain. He opened his eyes and while still looking into the man he'd loved and hated all his life, he thrust his fist into the King's heaving chest, feeling the strong bones crumble beneath his force. Opening his hands, still inside the wet chest, he gripped the heart and tore it out, holding the beating member in front of his father's face. Watching the black eyes roll back, he stifled the urge to cry out in pain.

In that moment he had made a promise he would forever keep. He promised his son would never hurt like that. Never be denied. He would be protected and be proud of who he was. Even if Vegeta could not love, he vowed the boy would know he was cherished. And.. and may Vegeta be cursed to a deeper Hell if he ever laid a hand on his child.

A great force rocked his chest, and it was at that very second in time.. that, had Vegeta ever truly had a soul.. he'd lost it. He felt the object cease it's labored beating in his soaked hand and gazed at it in curiosity.

"I am surprised it is not cold Father." He whispered mischievously to the bloody corpse. Standing up proudly, he took in the magnitude of the fete he'd just accomplished.

"I am now King." He announced boldly, in a true Kingly fashion.

From there he had flown to Hell City, finding his brother in the throne room. Vegeta had tossed the slippery object to his brother's feet, enjoying the sickeningly wet slap it made on the tile.

"Bow." He ordered Draco. But his proud brother would not, gazing defiantly at him.

"Bow to your King!" Vegeta screamed, plowing a fist into the demon's face. Draco, grasped his throbbing cheek, noting that he had not even seen it coming, nor imagined how it had stung. Truly, his brother had defeated the King, with power left to spare.. not a man to tangle with.

"Your father is dead and your birth right is mine. Now honor me!"

Slowly, Draco bowed, placing his hand reluctantly over his chest.

"No longer my brother." he swallowed, breathing hard. "But ra. but rather my King."

At that, Vegeta had beaten Draco within an inch of his miserable life, demonstrating to all who questioned his worthiness to the thrown, that he would not show mercy. He had broken his knuckles against the other man's face in his blinded rage. He beat him, releasing all of the hurt, the anger and the pain that was pent up inside of his empty chest. It had truly been a marvelous reflection of the way his father and brother had treated him all of his lifetime. No mercy. No compassion. The two ways he had chosen to live his life from that day on.

"I will make you strong Draco." He had promised the unconscious body.

"I will make you strong."

Coming back to the present, Vegeta smirked.

"You would be proud of me now. Father."

Chapter 22

Vegeta wondered silently if he would indeed see the brilliant lights of Heaven today. The idea fascinated him as possible death approached. Fascinated? Was that not forbidden? He knew well he was not to wish for such a thing. Light was bad, was it not? He watched as the horde of innumerable Angels came closer and closer with each sweep of his strong wings.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"Heavens a horrible place." Draco had informed the three year old Vegeta, in a mature voice.. well.. at least mature for an eight year old.

"Everything is light. It burns your eyes until they feel like their gonna slip right out of their sockets and ooze onto the floor." He had added extreme dramatization in order to frighten the younger child, who stood with wide eyes. Little did Draco realize that it was not really in fear, but more excitement at the idea of actual light.

"Everyone is really weird. They all wear white and have funny wings. Father and I had to wear an invicsa shield so that no one could see us."

"How come you gots to go and not me!?" pouted Vegeta.. as of yet not fully aware of his wicked father's partiality.

"Cuz your just a second born. You won't amount to anything Father says. Plus your too soft. You probably would've liked it." Vegeta felt like he'd been caught stealing chocolate from his Father's cabinet again. But, although young, he'd already developed a rather strong sense of pride.

"Would not!" he protested in that adorable way that makes parents ooze over their bratty children.

"Yeah right." Draco rolled his eyes. "You probably woulda cried like a baby when Father killed the queen."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% %%%%%%%%%%

Vegeta closed his eyes. Times had not always been so terrible with his family. At a young age, Draco had become his one and only friend. He remembered quite fondly the day his brother had spared him from the heartless King's wrath by concealing him in a hidden chamber. Or the numerous times Draco had deceived his father into believing it had truly been him who had been the cause of a wrong doing, and not Vegeta. At what point had things gone so wrong? Although he knew exactly when and what it had been that had torn them apart. More specifically, he knew WHO had caused it. But he had no more time to think of such things, for so close were the Angels, that he could make out their faces, superior eyesight or not.

IF a battle were to occur, chances of victory were basically non existent. But what about survival? Vegeta was fully prepared to battle.. but.. .. but was he ready to die? There was so much more he needed to do.. so many things he needed to see. And more importantly, so much more about Bulma and himself that he needed to figure out. The idea was a mystery in itself. But no sooner had his mind wandered, then he found himself, standing only a block away from the proud High King and all of his minions of Angels, clad in white battle armor. Vegeta had to snort. How freaking original.

Nodding to Nappa, the two walked slowly towards the halted army, one hundred times the size of their own. Vegeta made a mental note to keep his leathery wings stretched out behind him, his most intimidating stance.. And apparently it worked, for each pair of the million eyes, froze deadly upon him. Many cowered in unconcealed fear, stepping away as the horrible, but.. but .. so BEAUTIFUL creature approached, an evil, confident smirk gracing his ageless face. But.. the demon noted with a sour feeling, the High King boldly stood his ground, not even flinching. Bastard.

Standing only a yard or so from the High King, Vegeta was free to examine him and all his "glory." Pah! Glory.. the man was no holy giant that he was said to be. He had finely trimmed hair the color of coal, with attractive white streaks blessing the temples. His face was not unappealing, by no means, for he had fine skin and very few wrinkles. Yes.. Angels aged the same as Demons. only progressing until their prime. For this Angel.. his prime had been somewhat older than most, but still he was a young and attractive man. Despite that ridiculously loud armor and two arrogant guards at his side.

Glancing to the High King's right, Vegeta grinned at the almost dopey looking guard, standing dumbfounded in his obvious fear, before recoiling it and standing tall, as if he could stretch his body upwards and become a better man. Idiot.

Looking to the High Kings left.. Vegeta was rewarded to see and uncommonly handsome face, controlled and uninhibited by childish fear. The black haired Angel stood high and tall, obviously muscled well beneath his armor. His handsomely sculpted face bore an unbidden attractiveness and he held his stance proudly. He was bold. That much was evident. Something about the Angel struck him as incredibly odd. Like. like he didn't belong in white armor. As if something about him clashed terribly with the white wings held firmly against his back. Besides the fact that he reassembled Radditz to a T.

"You are a fool, young King." Stated the High King in a way only known to Royalty. He had an arrogance and a snobby tone that sent shivers of a challenge up Vegeta's spine.

"Your number of soldiers is laughable. Your over confidence will be your downfall."

"Oh?" Smirked Vegeta, finally tearing his eyes away from the proud Angel, noting only curiously how noticeably the Angel stared right back. He glared venomously at the High King, ignoring the fact that the miserable dope to his right had snarled in protest.

"I was not aware that we were to rage an all out war my Angelic King. I am here to discuss the terms of your daughter." At the sound of his raspy voice, many Angels began to back up further, their cowardice showing like flies on white walls. Vegeta was fully aware how intimidating he was with the flawless charm, sculpted body, large wings and deeply accented voice, but he was not about to allow his nervousness to shine through.

%%%%

"My father will never surrender Heaven to the likes of you.. Even if it comes with a price."

%%%%

Her voice echoed in his mind, exciting his already nervous stomach.

"What terms.. I have nothing to discuss with you Monster." The High King replied in a disgusted tone of voice. The way he looked at the demon surprised both Angels on his side, for even the handsome creature to his left had at least regarded the dangerous spectacle with dignity.

Vegeta was stunned and his facial expressions betrayed the rare emotion.

"What?!" He yelled, causing some of the Angels to nearly be thrown into hysterics. His aura became blood red and swirled around him dangerously. The bold Angel regarded him with something like wonder, gazing in that piercing look that screamed interest. Vegeta simply ignored him, too caught up in his own fury at the King's blatant disregard for his daughter. It was absurd! How dare this infamous King, known widely for his abundant love and ridiculous kindness, care so little for his flesh and blood? How dare he not care for Bulma!

"Don't you even care!?" He spat through clenched teeth, glaring with a fury that only men in his blood line could accomplish. The air around him turned disturbingly hot, almost pushing all intruders away.

"You betray your only daughter and you dare to call me a monster?!" The pure venom in his voice had even managed to startle the King, sending vicious chills upwards on his spine. Still, he stood unwavering. The High King's guards bristled angrily at his disrespectful tone and what his words were basically implying. They raised their weapons, ready for an attack.

"Your nothing more than a traitorous pig." Vegeta seethed through clenched fangs. He noted only subconsciously that he needed to calm down, for his teeth were growing longer with every choked word that ran forth from his lips. The dragon was beginning to stir within and he knew he must silence it's pleading call until the time was right.

Nappa stared wide eyed at the burning demon next to him. He winced with every word that was spat through Vegeta's teeth, noting that every utterance was laced with an untamable anger. He had known that his master showed affection for the princess, but with every sentence that he uttered, Nappa was more and more convinced of the depths that his affection ran. He was only beginning to see it, but that almost made it more recongnizable. Vegeta was not angry simply with the disregarding tone that the High King used, but more with his words. Vegeta was defending the Princess.. which basically meant that he cared much more deeply for her than simply for her appearance. It was very strange indeed, and these facts made Nappa more and more uneasy.

"My daughter is dead and what I have lost will soon be rectified by revenge, my young devil." The King replied, his voice almost in a whisper as he glared at the Demon. With his brave retort, the two body guards shifted into fighting stance, followed in unison by the millions of Light creatures behind them.

"What!? She is not dead you imbecile!" Vegeta shouted in frustration. Nothing was making sense anymore. The High King's angered expression did not falter one bit. not even a flinch in hearing the professment of his daughter's life. Did the bastard even give a shit?! And. I'd say that's just about when a sickening thought passed through his mind, making his furiously pumping blood run feverously cold.

"Did.." He caught himself in a weak tone of voice before straightening, only noticeable by the Angel on the left.

"Did you not get my letter you old fool?" Still.. he wasn't exactly happy with his shuttering tone, but at the moment he really couldn't care less. Something was wrong.. very..*gulp. very wrong. The High King's eyes became nothing more then ice cold slits in his enraged face.

"There was no letter you animal." He answered.. his tone.. dangerously low.

"W- WHAT?!" The truth poured over the Demon King like an glacier's waterfall, stinging his insides with an untamable fear. Perhaps.. only in his mind could he truly hear it.. but the haunting sound was more real than anything Vegeta could have imagined. He heard his brother's laughter, protruding into every part of his mind, far far off in the distance, but ever watching.

His brother. had betrayed him. He'd never left the letter. And he had destroyed Dodoria's body, leaving in wait, a blood infested room, stinking with utter death and floating feathers. This Vegeta knew simply because.. he thought much like his brother. But apparently not enough, for he had been fooled, unable to be prepared for a battle he knew nothing of. Every moment he had shared with Draco was dashed to pieces in his broken mind as every realization sank into his brain.

"She. She is alive!" He stammered furiously, his feet backing him away from the scene of utter doom. Nappa's face was deformed into a mask of supreme horror as the facts overwhelmed him as well. The demons behind them shuttered, but stood firm behind their commander and their King, not one even attempting an escape. For they would meet their certain end on this day, and would do it with honor. But indeed this would be their last battle, nothing more than a suicide mission. They spread their black wings, fully prepared to strike out for their King. Doing so had caused an amount of bliss to fill their proud hearts, as the Angels faltered backwards, nearly falling down in dominos at the fear full sight they were meant to conquer.

The High King lifted his head as if daring himself to believe what the demon had just proposed.

"No.. Do not let his words deceive you my King!" Stammered the dark haired warrior to his right. Vegeta glared at the seemingly cowardice clown that had just referred to him so much as a liar.

"No animal such as him could preserve the Bulma alive for this long." He seethed, his black eyes burning hotly into Vegeta's summoning hidden strength that had blossomed from the expression of surprise etched into the Demon King's face.

"It's not in his nature to display self control. He's nothing more than a monster." There was something in his angrily spitting words that screamed something personal. But Vegeta was not thinking of these things as a millions upon millions of white wings tore through Hell in a murderous rage.

"Draco.." was all he could whisper.

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) )))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) ))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Dark and Light forces collided, blood flying into the air as flesh connected with metal. The sound of unsheathed grippers rang through the air along with the sickening sound of swords running through a body. The air was filled with a deafening roar of battle cries and final sobs of dying men. The screams of anguish protruded through Hell, echoing and haunting the distance.

Angels fought fiercely with swords and spears, tearing through the mob of wicked Demons. The Demons fought with teeth, nails and grippers, slicing through flesh and bone. Blood flew into the air, spattering across their faces and tainting the pure white armor of the Angels. It was not long, before Angels were forced to stand on top the bodies of their companions, clambering over the fallen mounds of soaked flesh to punish the enemy. Some of the weaker hearted, leaned over their dying friends, sobbing into their chests before being brutally murdered for their lack of attention. The Demons fought as expected. Mercilessly.

If you were to have watched the battle, I doubt very much that you would ever utter another word again. So fear inspiring was this scene, that the few Angels that did survive. never forgot it.

One line of Angels after another came, being brutally attacked, maimed or drained of their energy. Sinking their teeth into another man's throat, the Demons healed their wounds and expanded their energy. It was the only time that they proved completely vulnerable as many Angels sacrificed their companions to the ruthless fangs, waiting until their guard was dropped before sliding the swords into their backs.

Allow fighting was a perilous plight for most, the Demonic soldiers fought with bravery and determination that can never be rivaled. Though they knew they were merely standing dead men, they would not go without a fight.

It was through fighting, that Vegeta earned his title, further silencing any debate to his worthiness of the throne. He fought with supreme intensity and skill, earning his right as leader. He swiftly tore through masses of white winged warriors, slashing with his long nails, having no present use for his hidden gripper. He knew that this could possibly be the last time he would display such ferocious talent and enjoyed it as much as possible, wrilling in the exotic feeling of thick skin being parted with his sharp nails. Bless the slashing black creations. His eyes turned a wicked red, though the his true self did not surface, laying dormant for the time being.

He sank his fangs deep into a young man's neck, feeling the veins contort beneath his pressure and eventually break into his mouth, releasing blissfully thick liquid. Normally he tried to be less messy, savoring the precious drink in his mouth before allowing it to slither down his throat and grace his system. It was not so as he tore mounds of flesh from men's neck and drank fiercely, throwing the still breathing bodies to the wet ground, mercilessly alive. They groaned as they died, spasms quaking their dying bodies as their eyes remained wide open, still trying to preserve the world around them as blackness swelled around their vision.

More than one hundred bodies in circled him as he threw one after another behind him as he finished. Feeling a rapidly approaching presence coming from behind, he viciously turned around, striking viciously out with his claws.

The Angel cried out in shock, before grabbing his arm, only a split second before impact with his face. Vegeta tried angrily to break the Angels hold and tear him down the middle, but the creature of Light held fast, nearly falling to his knees as the hand came closer and closer to his face.

"You!" Seethed Vegeta, gazing down at the hunched over Angel, at the mercy of his clenched hand. It was none other than the handsome guard that had proudly stood by his King. He removed his hand quickly, glaring as the Angel regained his footing, which was presently on top of a bloodless man. They stood eye to eye, each sizing the other up with fearless resolve. Vegeta was the first to move into fighting stance, follow suit from the Angel.

Light stood eye to eye with darkness. and I imagine if someone were to draw such an epic scene, it would truly be remarkable. For although it was not proper, the Angel held his wings much as Vegeta did. Holding them intimidatingly out behind him in a wicked stance.

"Are you ready to die Vegeta?" Spoke the Angel solemnly, as if he were making some kind of a promise. Vegeta only snorted, looking disdainfully at him as if it were a mere joke he had just uttered. To Vegeta.. it was.

"I would hate to be forced to maul such a pretty face, Angel." He grinned, positioning himself for the coming battle.

"But I will not hesitate if that is what you wish." The Light creature only nodded, and although he desperately tried to hide it, Vegeta had noticed a beam of excitement cross his eyes, and a small smirk enhance his full lips. There was just something about this guard that screamed he should be anything but an Angel.

But Vegeta had no more time to ponder over such things as the creature flashed in front of him, pummeling his blocking arms. The Angel had moved so quickly, it had taken him time to register that he was being attacked. He'd never seen anyone move like that, Demon or Angel. This was unquestionably surprising, and yet it intrigued his wish for a good fight. And so the two battled fiercely, as if forgetting their gruesome surroundings and answering the call for a challenge that burned as fiercely as Hell's fire.

They flew into the air, exchanging blows while they levitated above the bloodied ground. Vegeta was further surprised when the Angel actually landed a few hits, bruising his precious face. Though shock was his first emotion, anger followed, entangling with his pride. He really hated being hit in the face. To be honest, Vegeta was simply toying with the Angel, experimenting with his strength and skills. But as the fight pressed on he was further impressed by the delicate flips and moves, strained with abounding muscles. The Angel did not use his sword, as Vegeta did not unsheathe his gripper, silently agreeing that it would be dishonorable to do so. And although the Angel had noticed he was losing, he only portrayed calm control, never lashing out in blind frustration.

But.. alas.. time was of an essence and Vegeta had very little to spare as his remaining number of warriors was dwindling. Though he hated to end such an exhilarating little match, he knew it had to be done. As the Angel through his fist forwards, the Demon flipped agilely over him, grabbing one wrist and then the other and holding them tightly behind his back.

The Angel began to squirm and writhe to no avail. Vegeta simply chuckled at his attempts and nuzzled his neck playfully as if toying with him.

"Ah Angel.. let it go.. You have done well.. now relax and this will be much less painful." He laughed wickedly, panting against his throat. The Angel shivered and tried harder to free his possessed hands. He cried out when he felt Vegeta's hot tongue run across the side of his neck, toying with his prey like an animal.

"I just want you to know one thing my precious.." Vegeta whispered into his ear as he quivered in rage and fear, his back pressed against the hard structure of the Demon's chest, as they levitated high above the ground.

"I'm going to really enjoy this." He slowly opened his mouth, allowing his fangs time to grow larger with anticipation of the gorgeous liquid that would soon be spurting into his mouth. Placing his lips against his victims tender skin, he parted his mouth, preparing to sink his teeth into the soft flesh.

"Take this you monster!" Cried a young voice from behind him. Turning violently away towards the intruder, Vegeta was slashed wickedly across his chest from a noble, bloodied sword, held firmly by a short bald Angel. To the small Angel's ultimate dismay, it was only a flesh wound that appeared across the torn armor, only allowing meager amounts of blood to seep out. Vegeta growled viciously, turning his unholy gaze to the shivering Angel, who was presently stuttering out an apology.

"Krillen no!" Screamed the handsome Angel, reaching towards his friend as the Demon King's fingers slid into his stomach. A weak cry of grief was his only answer as his eyes paled and a shocked look covered his face. His fingers exploring the slippery intestines sliding around them, Vegeta pulled his hand away, covered in blood up to his elbow. A supreme look of pleasure graced his gorgeous face as he licked the juice from his fingers, as if he were enjoying a delightful meal.

A look of utter disbelief replaced the angered look on the guards face, as his companions body slumped to the ground, landing with a sickening thud upon the fallen body of an elite Demon.

"How could you?!" He screamed, eyes blazing upon Vegeta as his shoulders shook in pent up rage. So .. there was some fire to the blissfully calm creature after all, Vegeta mused humorously. The Angel ground his teeth, preparing a further attack before he unexpectedly dropped to the ground of corpses, kneeling next to the Angel, cradling his head on his lap.

Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled a small pill, or what looked like one, and shoved it into his friends open mouth.

"Chew." He commanded in a gentle voice, coaxing the smaller fighter on as his weak jaw gnawed upon the tiny object. Vegeta landed softly next to him, observing with apparent curiosity, just what exactly he was doing. The guard paid him no attention, watching intently as his companion swallowed the object. Before Vegeta's own eyes, the Angel's swollen, torn skin enveloped and healed dramatically. In unhindered amazement, he watched as the creature sat up right and shook himself off, beaming brightly with health at his rescuer. His jaw absolutely dropped to the floor.

But before he could demand an explanation, his eyes caught sight of the High King, sweeping furiously at Demons, surrounding him left and right. Nearly one hundred blackwinged corpses encircled his feet, and his blade shown brightly with dripping red. But. but there was Nappa.. standing behind him. grinning at the King's ignorance.

"NAPPA NO!" Screamed Vegeta for all of his life! But as the cry was sounded through the air, it was accompanied by the High King's wail, as four crimson blades appeared sticking out of his chest.

Chapter 23

It was like it happened in slow motion. Like Vegeta was seeing the scene play from out of his body. One minute the King stood proud and strong, surrounded by his cold hearted victims, the next his chest was pressed out wards and he was being held above the ground by the four blades ripping from his breast plate. A look of agony contorted his handsomely aged face, and a harsh scream erupted from his soul.

Vegeta was stricken by despair.. Should he not have been happy? This marked the fall of his ultimate enemy, he was now one more step closer to achieving his goal. But instead his head was screaming. He nearly fell to his knees from the impact of the scene. But instead he tore his way over to Nappa, discarding the heartfelt cry of grief from the Angelic guard.

As he neared the two, Nappa grinned from cheek to cheek, ripping the blades from his victim's back, and laughing in wicked triumph at the shards of bleeding flesh that hung from the gleaming metal.. but I suppose that was before Vegeta's rock hard fist connected with his grinning face.

He smashed onto the ground stunned, about at the same time that the High King felt broken to his knees.

"My Lord?" He replied, clutching his throbbing nose, while staring in ultimate disbelief as the beautiful creature gathered the King gently in his powerful arms. A look of deep, unbridled sadness swept over his face as he gazed down in pity at the dying man. His gaze turned to a vicious glare as he looked at his cowering commander, cradling his broken nose.

"Master.. you..you are not pleased?" He stammered. Perhaps he had been foolish, ignoring the Demon King's pride and defeating the Angelic King himself. But he had realized this too late, from the angered look on his King's face. But there was something more.. some thing so deep words cannot describe it.. so I will not even shame myself in trying.. For as you may have noticed.. I am not worthy of such a story as is. All you must know is this. There was a definite look of pain that distorted his features.

As Vegeta's feet left the ground and his furious wings beat the wind mercilessly, Nappa ran towards him, confusion running rampant through his body.

"My King.. where are you going?" He inquired. A deep dark scowl was his only reply as he began to fly away from the scene, his arms still bestowed with precious cargo.

"VEGETA!!" Screamed Nappa, rage burning through his pumping veins.

"You cannot leave us here!!" He roared at the departing creature. When it became obvious Vegeta was not going to make any attempt to return and save his warriors, Nappa pounded his fists into the cracked earth.. and if Vegeta had been listening, he would have heard Nappa's last words. Words that tore deeper than any mortal blade, for the Commander to utter.

"Traitor!"

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

Landing a safe distance from the battle field, Vegeta only subconsciously noted that the screams could still be heard, sickening in their pitch. Pushing the haunting thoughts back, Vegeta gently lay the proud King on his back, kneeling next to him and not even being sure why he was here in the first place. What did it matter to him that this hypocritical asshole was about to meet his maker? He should be overjoyed at the realization.. but.. he just wasn't. He felt a light pulling in his chest he figured to be some small amount of pity that had lain dormant all this time. No matter.. the detestable emotion would soon be dealt with.

To his own horror.. he noticed the gruesome looking King was smiling. Was it from dying? Did the experience make you crazy before releasing your soul from the pain? The light creature uttered incoherently, and Vegeta was forced to crouch over him in order to hear fully.

"I.." he whispered upwards, silently noting how flawless the dark creatures skin was. No pores, just smooth, tan skin. "I.. I knew I couldn't keep her from you." He spattered his words, his voice being muffled by disturbing amounts of blood surging from his mouth. It was as if there was a small pump in his throat, distributing generous amounts of the liquid. Only silently would Vegeta crave to taste the thickening crimson. What would the King's taste like? It would be hard to imagine, but he forced the thoughts away, glaring down at the chuckling senile man.

"If only you had believed me.." He breathed, barely recognizing his own voice.

"If only you had believed me when I told you she was alive." He sighed again, too caught up in his sudden pain to even notice how miserable he must have sounded. He was so weak.. so sad.so.. He shuddered.. so honest.

"I did.." The Angel chuckled to the wind, surprising Vegeta stiff. "I knew you could never hurt her."

"WHAT!!??" Screamed the Demon King, glaring so ferociously down at the dying man, that a spectator might have figured the man's time was virtually up. The questions burdened his young mind furiously, each part of his brain working to decipher the riddles the Angel spoke. To solve the immense puzzle.

"Then how could you allow this to happen.. this .. this War?!" He demanded none too gently. He spat out each word with an authoritive amount of blatant accusation. The man's large gentle eyes slid to Vegeta's burning black orbs, mounded inside slanted eyes. "My men are dying out there!" he screamed, pointing towards the war field the other man could not see.

"Your men are dying out there! Tell me they do not die in vane!"

"I wanted you dead Vegeta." He smiled, as though he'd just given some sort of fucking compliment. He spoke as though such a statement was nothing more than stating an opinion. And the fact that a man he'd never met before was using his name already.. well.. it simply startled him.

"I wanted you dead.. I . .. I had to save her from you." His words caused a wicked snarl from Vegeta, and the fallen Angel braced himself for the rampage of hideous words.

"You JUST SAID that I would never hurt her! Your nothing more than an old fool!" He seethed disgustedly, as if merely looking at the broken creature was some sort of cruel and unusual punishment. But the older King simply shook his head in disdain.

"I wanted you dead so that I could go and rescue her. I had to save her Vegeta.. not from you.but from herself.." Vegeta felt like screaming at the blasted creature to cease this ridiculous talking in riddles.. when the King interpreted.

"I had to save her from the way she would feel about you." He clutched Vegeta's hand, running his fingers through the dark creatures, somewhat to dull the pain, but mostly as a compassionate gesture. Something that obviously was quite foreign to the black hearted, evil spawn of creation. But there was more to say.. much much more to be said. And so the Light King squeezed harder, trying in vein to lessen the numbing pain. He had to be strong. He had to finish.

"Vegeta.." he whispered kindly, feeling his breath begin to leave him. He gazed into the strong young man's deep eyes, seeing how his daughter seemed to be reflected in them.

Would they ever meet again? The question ran through his head only once before he tore it viciously from his weakening mind. He would see her again. He only could pray that she knew how much he loved her. Ever since her mother had died.. each day she'd made him more and more proud. He'd always told her to find her place, only realizing too late that it had always been with him. He'd pushed her away.. his only daughter.. for so long because he had wanted a son. A brave young male to replace his throne when the time came. But she had forever strived to amount to his expectations, being the quick tempered genius he had wanted from a Prince, and a smittening beauty as expected of a Princess. She had long ago proved herself to him.. Would she ever know? Had he ever even told her how much like her mother she'd become. How beautiful? How much more he loved her each day?

But she had found her rightful place, and he was gazing into the proud eyes of the monster that possessed her heart, though he undoubtedly was oblivious to the fact. But no more.

"Vegeta.." he whispered once more until, hesitantly, the demon came closer to his face, his brightly burning eyes, boaring holes into the High King's face.

"Vegeta.. she was destined to love you.. do you know that?" he stammered through failing breaths.. to say that Vegeta's facial expressions displayed shock would be a ridiculous understatement.

"That is why I tried to marry her to the Prince of East Heaven. To save her from the heart ache of falling in love with someone so wicked of heart." He was not being insulting.. merely stating the obvious. Still, his boldness reflected that of his hot tempered daughter, and that was something Vegeta secretly admired.

The King closed his eyes momentarily, and Vegeta had come under the impression his life was soon ending. The thought made his eyes feel pressured. It was a very odd feeling indeed.

"But.. .. but she doesn't love me." He whispered honestly, each word laced with inhibited truth. The King opened his teary eyes, chucking weakly before the blood began to drip from his swollen lips.

"I knew I had failed.. I knew when you kidnapped her, you'd not only taken her body.. but also stolen her heart." He laughed, enormous amounts of blood still seeping relentlessly from his mouth, staining his teeth an ugly red.

"It is.." He coughed, spattering blood viciously across Vegeta's face, who respectfully did not whip it away.

"It is her destiny to love no other man.. her fate to give her heart to no other man.. until the day she dies and beyond." He spoke with extreme labor. He closed his eyes.. feeling death approaching once more. He gently lifted a soaked hand upwards, landing softly on the Demon's face. Opening his eyes for the last time, he gazed once more at the monster who had fallen deeply in love with Bulma lifetimes over. He would never know how many forms.. how many shapes, how many generations he'd met and been transformed by the Angel. He always played the heartless beast.. turned into a maniacal teddy bear in the end. How dare the King try to tamper with fate?

He smiled for the last time, beaming with every ounce of sincerity that still remained in his shattered heart. He ran his fingers over the soft, bloodied cheek, admiring it's likeness to fine silk. Bulma would never get tired of this one. He was simply amazing. No wonder she had always fallen blindly for his charms.

"Take care of her." He pleaded, his eyes tearing up as he wished for just one more moment. Just one more moment to tell this creature to love his daughter.. to confess that he was so proud of them both.. that he was not ashamed by his daughter's choice. Just one more moment.. please.. But life failed him.. and he could only utter one last sentence before the blissfully numb blackness overwhelmed him.

"Take care of her.. my son.." he whispered, his plea and his soul, released into the wind. His red fingertips grazing once more against the soft flesh of Vegeta's cheek, leaving four lines of crimson on the poreless skin, before dropping lifelessly to the hard ground.

Vegeta once more felt the tingling sensation well into his eyes. He covered his mouth with his hands.. staring in pain at the fallen man. The man he had wished dead for so long. This.. beautiful.. kind man.. he almost screamed out loud his self loathing. He clutched his stomach, holding it for strength as he tried to understand why his body was reacting so painfully to one man's death. He cried out.. the heart broken plea sounding almost like a sob.

How could he tell Bulma? How could her broken heart handle this? His concern for her was breathtaking, and now more than ever before.. he wished he were with her.. just watching her. Just seeing her smile. Would he ever see it again? He buried his face in his hands.. still kneeling on the dusty ground.

But I think more than anything.. Vegeta was bothered by what the High King had said. Why did he act as if everything had already been planned? As if it had all occurred before in another life. Like it was fate. But he no longer believed in such a theory.. he'd heard his fate from Akasha.. He'd heard of his previous life from her. It was enough to convince himself that he alone could and would control his destiny. His life. Still.. was the idea so bad?

All thoughts suddenly fled from Vegeta, as a sharp pain wracked his body, and he gazed down in shock at the spear that had been plunged through his back and sliced through his chest, shattering his black heart in two.

Chapter 24

He took a deep breath, feeling the wood contract with his movement. He could feel his heart torn in half.the veins and arteries shuddering and quivering, still struggling to beat around the thick handle of the spear. Any normal man would have perished from the attack. His lungs shuddered, begging him to take one more blissful gulp of air, and his dying body responded by sucking in sharp quick gasps. The pain.. no creature should ever have to experience such a thing. He could feel every splinter from the wood, every little indent that tore his insides to ribbons.

Still on his knees, and gazing forward in shock, he felt the spill of blood splash onto his lap, gushing like a waterfall. Closing his eyes, and summoning what little strength remained, he tore the foreign object from his breast, screaming in pain as the gashes cascaded across his open wound.

Now what does a person think when they know they are going to die? Do they truly see memories of their former life pass before their glazed eyes? Is there a tunnel? Perhaps I should leave such inquiries to the reader.. For how can anyone truly answer such a thing? Whatever your faith may be.. Vegeta's is different.

For at a time when most would be concentrating on where their soul would go.. or how much they wish they could have told someone sorry.. or the usual..that they loved them and never had the guts to admit it.. No.. these weren't Vegeta's thoughts. For as a true Demon King, his shredded determination only groped for one thing. Revenge. He would not fail to exact it's bitter taste upon the wretched fool who had dared to end his life. Using what strength he had left, he forced his weakening legs to pull him to his feet. The shrieking amount of pain flew over his body, almost losing consciousness to the black daze settling around his eyes. But he forced the blissful fog away, clearing his eyes and his mind, gazing in unconcealed hatred at the dark haired Angel that stood staring at him in shock.

Any normal man would have perished at the mere touch of the spear to his heart, and yet the Angel stared in horror as the Demon King tore the spear from his chest, as if it were nothing more than a small flesh wound, a sliver or thorn from a rose bush that had to be extracted, nothing more. The only suggestive detail that held any proof at all that the foreign object had ever been imbedded into his breast was the incredible amount of blood gushing out of his armor. The Angel wondered sickly if the blood that pooled beneath the King's feet was even his.. or really.. the blood of countless fallen soldiers that the monster had sucked out. The question of how, protruded rudely through his indigestive mind. He should have been dead, fallen, slain, and lying by the body of the High King, who he would be believed to have murdered himself..

But this Angel knew the truth.. he'd seen the entire display, though thankfully heard nothing. It had literally sickened his sour stomach to see the High King touch the Demon in kindness, whisper secrets he could never know. to smile at the wretched filth as though he were a long lost friend, instead of a blood thirsty disgusting piece of vile trash! And so he had waited.waited until the creature's alert system was down and then pushing away the unfamiliar idea of honor, and thrusting with all of his might, a holy spear through the enemy's back. Now when most creatures, either of light or dark, view attacking the enemy when his back is turned as cowardice, this Angel believed it no such thing. For why should he pay such an honor to such a disgraceful embodiment of evil? The spawn of darkness deserved no honor, he deserved only death for all of the crimes he had wickedly committed. Forging a war with Heaven, causing the High King's death through one of his minions, and perhaps the worst of all. kidnapping the Princess..Kidnapping Bulma.

But now the demon stood proudly, seemingly oblivious to the retching amounts of blood pumping through the hole in his chest, and looking as invincible as ever. He watched with wide eyes, as the black winged creature made a frightening fist, the air around him beginning to spark with unseen electricity, causing a crimson aura to ensnare them both.

Vegeta recognized the young Angel as the furiously relentless guard that had stood on the other side of the High King before the battle. And no.. this was not his favored handsome Angel. This was the sniveling, quick tempered little weasel that he'd barely been able to control the creature within around. This little. little.. NO BODY..was ending HIS life?!! Oh that would sound good in the record books.. Proud Demon King slain by low level, moronic no named guard. Pitiful!

Vegeta was shocked.. I mean SHOCKED when the insolent bastard struck him in the face.. hard! The blow had completely caught him off guard, no doubt from the slow death that ebbed his mind, mentally torturing him like a drug. His vision was beginning to blur temporarily, focusing in and out, never really deciding for sure which time was right to do so. Even so.. he dodged mind blowing kick that was sent directly at his face, quite possibly capable of taking his head off, had he not been paying attention. If only he had not allowed his guard falter. Then he would have sensed the uncouth intruder and extinguished the rotten weed before the blooms shot forth. And now it was ending. and everything that had meant so much to him.. his goals.. his dreams.. even the next days plans. seemed like nothing more than a weak interpretation of what life was like. In reality.. life was emotion and acting upon it. So at the moment.. he focused on his hatred.. which in return.. caused the fury of revenge to burn ever brighter.

But he was still oddly impressed by the Angel's evident skill. not even to mention the incredible amount of rare bravery he was demonstrating.

"Not bad.." he swooned.. "But it will take more than blind heroics to stop me, boy." He taunted.. in truth sounding much more powerful than his screaming body felt. It was almost maddening.. the pain.. the simple irony of the ridiculous situation. And so he had learned finally what might have been the most important piece of information.. from the High King, who was recently slaughtered.. that his daughter was desperately in love with the demon. Though most of his practicality hollered insanity.. a small, dwindling part of him.. pleaded with his non existent soul.. to listen and believe. But now.. He'd never know the truth. Ironic indeed. And sad.

"Your nothing more than a murderer and a liar. I'm going to crush your wicked presence out of existence Monster!" Cried the distressed warrior, pulling upon his golden plated sword, quite prepared to unsheathe the trusted metal. But Vegeta was quicker, slamming his fist, up and into the Angel's unguarded chin, virtually knocking the other man off of his feet with the unnatural power. He landed clumsily, almost on his head, onto the dusty floor that was the dry cracked ground beneath. His brain was jolted with the wicked force, and the world blanked out momentarily, the first clear sight being an enraged, bloody eyed Demon King, diving towards his tangled body.

Vegeta pounced on top of the light creature, landing with a revolting crack, one that signified the beautiful sound of cracking ribs. Had he not been on the precipice of death, he would have smiled at the familiar sound that had been his trademark win over another man. It was well known.. after snapping the ribs, the body was entrapped in nearly overwhelming pain, insignificant to the poor soul that dwindled behind. And so Vegeta gazed in triumph at the wheezing, paled creature beneath him, only silently remarking that he was wrong about the man. for he was quite attractive.. if you go for that dashing boyish charm look.

He straddled the Angel fiercely, paying little or no attention to the harsh voiced pleas from the injured man beneath him, who cried out in pain as the Demon adjusted his positioning weight over the bleeding ribs. Looking for some sign of mercy, or possible evidence of a soul, the Angel's eyes became blurry and filled with tears as it was evident that his vision had come back empty.

There was nothing in this monster that betrayed any amount of forgiveness. The Angel was realizing too late that his attempt to slay the dragon was nothing more than a suicide mission, a death wish. This creature held no love in his heart. But then as the Angel began to cry, sobbing in fresh, unfamiliar gasps.. he noticed for only a brief second a small flash of pain cross the demon's tilted eyebrows.

It was just that he looked so much like Bulma.. no, no .. Not like her.. but the seem was so familiar that it felt like his chest was being stretched, though possibly his heart was giving out.. Either way it was bad. Would he ever see her cry again? Would he ever even see her again? The thought pained him only temporarily, the dragon within stirring and pushing away the grieving feelings that stung him. Now was not the time for such insolent mulling over what could not be helped. It was time to exact dire punishment on the blubbering fool beneath him.

Stricken cries filled the tense air, as Vegeta's rock hard fists pounded both sides of the Angels rapidly bleeding face. One cheek after the other, his face was sent back and forth, back and forth as his cheek bones were crushed from the gnarly knuckles on the Demon's tightly clenched fists. The world was flying by his vision so fast, he closed his eyes, hearing himself subconsciously scream over and over again. His tears began to mix with blood, streaking down his torn cheeks, and stinging the open gashes in the tender flesh. He could feel the teeth in the back of his jaw shatter like fragile porcelain, cascading onto his tongue and tearing as his head was knocked this way and that. He felt himself swallow, feeling the shards of broken teeth ripped their way down his hoarse throat along with the nauseating feeling of the thick blood oozing down into his stomach, falling into a massive puddle in the pit of his belly.

Vegeta was in his glory. So.. the idiot was still conscious. Though this surprised him immensely, it filled his dying spirit with bliss, knowing that he could punish the breathing dead man further. The young man's life was hanging on the edge, and Vegeta was the monster that kept pulling his body back over, only to leave him dangling again.. completely aware of the fear that still plagued his body. Vegeta riled in that fear. Used it to fuel the animal stirring in his body. A sadistic smile crossed his tortured face, beaming in his crazed eyes that shown all but completely red, as he pounded the broken face further, though his ultimate strength was escaping him rapidly.

But as he felt the approaching death begin to seize his thundering heart, still shredded in his chest, feeling it's cold claws grip the fiery member in it's icy clutch, he decided it was time to end this.

Pulling back his fist, he waited for the young man's eyes to open, as the puffy creations did in confusion. Vegeta wondered briefly if the man could even truly see through the swollen flesh that enveloped his beady orbs. He doubted even if he could, the world was dazed and confusing, a kind of insanely unreal world that only the mentally incapacitated can rival.

But look the Angel did, thankful only for the temporary release of the unimaginable pain that wracked his shattered cheek bones and facial structures. The muscles straining beneath his fleshy cheeks were torn and crushed, and he wondered silently is he would ever again retain his boyish beauty he had held so proudly throughout his short lifetime. He'd never even gotten to see her again, he sobbed, not even caring that the Demon's face twisted into an even wickeder grin. And the Angel stared in unconcealed horror, as the Demon made a tight fist, releasing the four twisted blades of his gripper.

Vegeta laughed proudly out loud as the Angel closed his bleeding eyes, awaiting with resolute bravery the indomitable end. Not one to displease, Vegeta was quite prepared to shove the blades straight into the Angel's face, to see him squirm one last time in pain before the inevitable end, to hear one last blissful, bloody curdling scream pitch into the air. But then.. he froze.

The Angel let out another sob of frustration, as the world had stopped around him. He wasn't dead yet, for the shrieking pain still enveloped his tattered body. He was still beneath the animal, for the heavy weight was still pent upon his crushed ribs, beginning to pierce his lungs. But nothing was happening. Was the monster waiting for him to open his eyes once more before thrusting his gripper through his heart? Waiting for that one last look of horror to transform his grizzled features?

Vegeta tore the gripper painfully from his arm, not even bothering to dislodge to locks that held it in place. He tossed it wretchedly across the ground, ignoring the metallic sound that ricochet into the furiously relentless wind. Taking the man's face into his hand, he examine the grotesque remains, exploring the newly made creations from his fists. The skin was pulled into mounds, or stretched painfully over ripped muscle. But that wasn't why he had stopped. Hearing a high pitched wail result from his angered touch, he lessened his grip, reducing the pressure to the amount he used when touching Bulma.

The Angel heard himself whimper into the air, nothing like the scream that had erupted from his bruised lungs before, but just as pitiful. He again felt the stinging digits of the Demon King's hand examine his flesh, but noticed how gently they touched. It was enough to make him cry once again, releasing the pent up fury of tears that weighed upon his swollen eyes. The touch was so gentle. Was it even the same creature that had been killing him before? Or by some miracle had he been saved? Opening his eyes to investigate further, he gazed up at the Demon, fooled by his sadistic touch into believing he was not the same deadly creature that had pummeled his face into nothingness.

Vegeta looked into the younger man's eyes, staring down into the watery pools that burned with pain. It seemed to pull again inside his chest, seeing the pain he had inflicted and the ruined remains that had once been a handsome face. He combed his fingers through the boys hair, almost feeling a small cry surface from deep inside his body, that apparently lingered from remaining guilt. It hurt him to see this creature so broken. Damn that fucking princess.

But there again!.. His eyes had not been mislead as he had believed! There were the markings that had made his relentless fist cease. He tilted the Angel's face this way and that, foreignly gentle. Shifting the mounds of flesh, he saw it as clear as day. as clear.. as the clearest day..

*"He is weak compared to you Vegeta. He's even weak compared to some Angels. He has scars on his face and doesn't have near the muscle definition you have. But he can love Vegeta. He can love. And in this way alone.. You'll never be half the man he is."*

Vegeta looked down at the remains of the man he'd never amount to. The man who was infinitely weaker then he. . The Angel with scars on his face.

And looking even further, he saw the undeniable proof, sewn for the world to see.. The emblem of a Prince on his breast plate.

"Yamcha." He breathed into the man's twisted face. He was feeling weaker as each inflating breath took it's toll on his depleting life. The Angel's swollen eyes opened as far as they possibly could, as both men took in a deep gasp!

"You're the. you're the one she loves.." he whispered, each word sinking deeper and deeper into his dying spirit, draining the demon within of all it's forbidden power. The blood loss was taking his life little by little, and the affects were becoming noticeable even to the man trapped beneath him, as the smooth, tan skin of his face began to pale and dark brown and blue circles dwindled beneath and around his frozen eyes. His swollen lips began to dull into a slight shade of dark purple. But this did not make him seem much weaker than before, and the Angel had to remind his hopeful body of the deadliness of the creature crouching on top of him.

Before he could register it, he saw the demon's fist crumple into tight balls, and his eyes close tightly shut, pushing away all the light that gathered around them. He gritted his teeth and clenched them until the sound of grinding bone began to dwindle in the whipping air around them. Lightening began to cackle like a witch, and the fine hair on the Angel's face began tingling with the electricity that Vegeta was generating.

'The bastards regenerating himself!' The thought penetrated the dying Angel like a fierce biting wind.. 'He's regenerating himself and keeping me alive to witness it before he slaughters me!' Anger filtered through the dying man's body, twisting his mutilated face painfully. But there was nothing he could do. Not a thing that could stop the process. He was merely forced to sit underneath the monster and observe the end of his hope.

Vegeta's pain was ignited to it's fullest extreme, burning with an intensity that reached into it's fullest depths. He dipped into his regenerating capabilities, absorbing every last property and sending it directly to his hand. So fierce was his intensity, that his black nails dug into the fleshy parts of his palm and bit like knives into the thick skin, blood pouring from his hands. But he didn't stop until he knew all of his healing entities were mounded into his palm, releasing a cry when the power reached it's peak, burning the flesh from within.

In open horror, Yamcha watched as Vegeta opened his hands, looking blankly down at him, as if to conceal the obvious pain that was ridiculing his bleeding body. With ever amount of strength he had summoned, his heart had begun to beat quicker, sending grotesque spurts of blood down his armor and on to the Angel. Yamcha let out a scream as Vegeta slid his sharp fingernail into his glowing palm, self mutilating his body and releasing dark brown blood on to his hand. So deeply he cut that veins were torn and released nearly black liquid.

Vegeta positioned himself over the Angel, not knowing if indeed he had the strength to carry out what would be his last sacrifice. With the healing abilities he had stored, he might have been able to restore some of his wounds.. but in truth.. it would not have been enough. It would only have delayed the inevitable, made the heart aching process of death even longer and more unbearable. And so with his bleeding hand, he stretched it over the frightened creatures disfigured face, hearing the younger man scream with every bit of strength that remained in his battered body.

The world was blackened and burning, as his face was held down by the monster. The animal.. the creature of death that was slowly sucking the life from him. He could feel the flesh of his face being distorted further, stretched and mauled even worse than before. The pain was horrific, and he could have sworn his flesh was melting from his shattered cheek bones. He could almost feel the ribbons of oozing flesh melting in shards to the dismal ground, puddling in placid pools of bleeding skin. He could feel his eyes begin to burn as the Demon's blood sunk into his torn eyelids, seeping into his skull and no doubt transforming his brain into the same torturous creation as his face. He could only feel the pain, see the darkness.. and hear the tattered remains of a scream disembark from his esophagus.

And then it all stopped. Was he. Was he dead? Had the Devil really ended his treacherous life? And then.. when he was almost expecting the pain to begin once more.. a beautiful feeling engulfed his face, spreading into his entire being. From his mind to his feet, the warm sensation was released, giving him peace of mind and body. He felt like he was floating, no longer on the scorched ground of Hell, but soaring through the sky's of Heaven. So he had died.. So he'd never gotten to see his beloved again. Never told Bulma goodbye. But at least she would know that he'd given his life for her. He hoped.

That's about when his face was unclenched by the enormous hands of the Demon looming over him. He let out a gasp, as he realized he was not dead. He was alive.. very alive indeed. But he could not say the same for the proud Demon King who had to summon what little strength remained in order to climb to his feet.

He had given what healing matter he could and now stared in moderate pleasure at the result. The Angel appeared as if he had never been struck at all. As if no mortal hand had ever touched the tan skin of his handsome face. But even Vegeta's powerful blood could not release him from the scars that had been placed long before hand. Still, the results were indefinable and the light creature seemed to know as he gently tugged his body to his feet, standing only slightly warily and examining his hands, as if they themselves had released the torture that had been his only conscious thought before.

"I'm.. I'm ok.." he stammered weakly, hardly recognizing his own voice. And then the strange creatures eyes beamed upon the Devil that stood quivering across from him. Why had he done it? What could have ever possibly possessed such a monster to spare his life and heal him?

"You. saved me.." He mildly stuttered, looking through questionable eyes at the monster that had nearly torn his face from his body and then healed it.

"But why.." He whispered, his voice almost sounding pleadingly. Vegeta could not understand why the creature cared. He'd almost expected by now that the Angel would have struck back, ending his wretched life.

"You could have healed your self. Why did you spare me?" He cried, hating the miserable tone but not expecting much better. Inside his body was inflamed, burning with unanswered questions and daring his naïve heart to believe the unthinkable. Was this creature actually showing mercy? This creature that appeared to be nothing more than a woken corpse. The veins shown blue on Vegeta's pale skin, almost giving him a monstrous look.. well.. and even more monstrous look that is.

"Stupid boy.." Vegeta coughed, only slightly wavering in his proud stance. "It would not have been enough.. besides." he caught himself right before he unleashed the unthinkable. But the Angel had caught him.. observing him with young piercing eyes.

"Besides what?" He nearly demanded, only seeing a small spark of indignation flash over the creature's dulling eyes.

But Vegeta made no attempt to answer him, instead turning away and facing the endless desert in front of him.. the only barrier that tore him away from Bulma. He was thinking about her now.. as he watched the crimson sun pour over the scorched land, cascading over the corpses of fallen men, Angel and Demon alike. It was apparent that in the end.. they'd basically killed each other. Thousands of Demon warriors lay dead. But then.. Millions Angels lay near them.

To see such a sight could render a person speechless for eternity, gazing across mounds of broken bodies, some that had been reduced to clutching another to dull the pain of their dying spirits. One that particularly caught his eye, was the sight of a young Angel, a boy, lying dead upon his father's breast. Though he knew he would never know the true story, in it's dismal details, he imagined the brave soldier had witnessed his father's murder, rushing to his side in displayed grief, and put down like an animal in his father's blood. It was the cold truth of war. No one wins. Not really.

For in truth.. humans and Demons alike rile in the idea of fighting. of bloodshed.. of war. But when the unthinkable happens, they find themselves wishing in the end.. for peace. For amongst these proud bodies, died also the legend that each held. For what one of us does not have a story to tell? Which one of us can say that our life is empty? For even that apparent emptiness writes a chapter into the book of our lives.

But these men died.. and with them.. their stories were forever hidden in their graves, buried forever in their hearts. It was enough to haunt even the bravest of men forever, and Vegeta had to turn away, his eyes pleading with him not to look again. No.. he was not angered at his loss.. he was s. he was saddened by the scene. Not an emotion he knew well.. nor one he cared to observe for long.

"Besides what?!" The Angel nearly hollered, not surprisingly oblivious to the Demon's private thoughts. And yet he did falter slightly when the dying creatures gaze landed upon him, sending a light amount of pain to shudder his body. That sullen look was apparent in the black eyes that would forever haunt him. There was a sadness that the monster reflected that would wake him in his sleep for many years to come. And that sadness.touched him.

"Besides." Vegeta finally said, as if he were merely speaking out loud to himself, for his gaze wavered from the Angel's heart wrenching stare and dwindled on the setting sun.

"Bulma would never forgive me if I let you die.." He whispered.. so softly that Yamcha had to strain his body outwards towards the Demon standing a few yards from himself.

"And without her forgiveness.. I doubt I could have lived long anyways." He said the word so quietly, he secretly wished that the Angel had not heard. But he had, and his big eyes opened wider, as if his slow mind was only as of yet processing the forceful information. Vegeta only smiled in that devilish trademark grin, as his powerful wings began to beat, and the very last amount of his strength took him to the sky.

He flew slowly, and close to the ground in case his wings forsook him and his body was left to fall from the sky. Inside.. he knew this would be a journey that he could never finish.. A road he could never end.

He would never again see his castle. never see his men.. or Radditz. Never again wander the tower at night and play tricks on his guards.. The thought brought a smirk to his purpling lips, in spite of the harshness of his situation. But the rarity was soon replaced by quivering lips as a wicked thought pierced his thought track. He'd never see her again.. He'd never see Bulma.

Of all of the things in his life he had accomplished, being with her stood out farthest in his mind. She had changed him. No longer did he think such thoughts with a scowl and open hatred, but now with marvel. She'd changed him. So? Was that such a bad thing? He smiled now. He actually smiled, forgetting the savage life he had been shown and the burrowing regrets.

He could now forget the wasted life he'd lived. He could focus on the person he had become. He was better. And he knew the secret that he'd been searching for all of his life. The secret that so many live and die for.. only to leave this world with nothing but lost dreams. But he knew now what these creatures put their faith in.

He knew what happiness was.. and the answer was so simple.

Happiness. was being with her.

Although his discovery sent chills of pleasure down his spine, the happiness soon ebbed and was replaced by the practicality of his hopeless situation. He'd never get to see her again.

What would a man give to see his beloved smile once more before he died? What sacrifices would a man give for one last kiss.. one last touch? For Vegeta.. He would have given anything he called his own.. just to see her one last time. To have her give him one last chance to be the man he knew he could be.

The pain shown through harshly with every beat of his relentless wings. His teeth ground together to shush the screaming that tried to escape his throat, as the blood continued to seep from his chest and splash to the ground beneath him. He wondered if there was indeed a trail of blood following for miles behind him. But he did not care one way or another, feeling the hot air rush against his open wound as his wings began to pick up speed.

But the pain did not erase the grief that ripped through his body as he closed his eyes and saw her holding Gohan. Such love entrapped in her soul. She had held the orphan as if it were her own, cradling him against her bosom in consolement. Would she have treated her own son so graciously? He knew the answer but did not discuss it with himself. For he would never really know..

A small sob escaped his lips and he felt as if his heart was nearly giving out, tired of fighting the odds and holding him suspended in the air.

"I'll never see her again!" he screamed wretchedly into the wind, wanting to tear to pieces the culprit that was his fate. He wanted to scream! He wanted kill! He wanted more than anything to erase the fact that he was dying.

"No!" he shouted hoarsely, his lips quivering weakly over his spoken words. "I cannot die like this!" He cried out loud to the prison that was Hell. He felt so helpless.. so cursed by his approaching death.

"Please.." he whispered to the wind. "Please.. somebody help me.." It was his first and last prayer, brought about by a broken spirit. He clutched his chest, praying with all of his might that it would not fail him. But the truth was there. His words and prayers were empty.. falling to nothingness in the blowing wind.

And it was as Bulma had predicted, what seemed so long ago. No matter what he did.. eventually, he would realize he was alone. And so alone.. He continued to bat his wings in the air.. feeling his heart slipping at times, and then fight harder at others.

His heart stopped.

He fell.

He fell from the sky. His heart had stopped it's rightful course, sending the bearer of it's failure to the ground. He held his broken body as he spiraled towards the ground, knowing that when hitting the rocky ground head first, the world would blacken entirely and the worst would be over. He would be dead, released of his living Hell.

But before his face was tattered by the jagged rocks, he was caught and lifted by an unseen force, straight into the blood red sky. He was rushed at a speed that made his heart beat wildly again, sending the blood pumping once more into his veins. His wings were not moving, nor was his energy causing him to rush into the sky at such a pace. He was being carried. As if the powerful force knew his thinking, he felt a strong embrace grasp his withering body. He felt the touch of a cold cheek press against his, and he closed his eyes, imagining he was being carried by a horde of Angels into Heaven.

He let his head dangle back, his throat exposed to the cold air that stung his flesh at their fierce speed. The wind whipped his hair, tangling the unruly main with it's uncanny force. Still, amongst the undeniable pain, and approaching demise, his lips sported a small smile and he felt the unseen embrace him like a child.

"Don't give up." Said the spirit that held him tightly. It was a woman's voice.. much akin to Bulma's. He felt a cool hand brush his cheek, sleek and dainty like a woman's. He could feel his hair being brushed back with imaginary fingertips, stroking his sensitive scalp with skill only a mother could possess.

"Don't give up.. my son." Coached the calming voice. He could not decipher whether he was hearing the soothing sound in his twisted mind or out loud. But opening his eyes.. the world stood still. They still were on a merciless course into the sky, but the imaginary arms that held him were no longer figments of an insane imagination. For he was being embraced by none other than the Angelic Queen. Bulma's mother.

He gasped, and gazed in amazement at her beauty.. and she in turn graced him with a tight squeeze and a smile, before fading into the wind. Her embrace dwindled no longer, but it had been enough.

Enough to give him the needed strength to find his way. To find his way back to the castle. Back to his home..

But especially.. Back to Bulma. If only. to see her one last time.

Chapter 25

Bulma gasped. She couldn't believe the pains that plagued her heaving chest. Her hair was matted with sweat as she lay, still crumpled in Vegeta's enormous bed. For hours, her body had been rocked with sharp pains, something akin to long blades diving into her heart. With every imaginary thrust of the sword, her heart only beat faster, so rapidly at points that it threatened to bust through her. It felt like a hammer beating into her chest, over and over and over again, each swing more painful then the last.

For hours she had laid there, reduced to a quivering ball of self pity in her loathing for what she had become. But this was no low self esteem. This was no imaginary pain.. this was very real and the source.. very unknown. What had at first been sharp jolts of stabbing pain was now constant throbbing, numbing aches that seemed to tear at her insides. She could no longer take this.

"Radditz!" she gasped, pulling her resistant body from the cold bed. She felt so reluctant to leave it's clutches, for she had laid their since the day before. Though her strength had returned to her in the morning, she had been reluctant to leave, perhaps subconsciously awaiting his arrival. For she could not deny that up until the point of blinding pain, he was all that had remained on her complex mind. That and the constant choice of suicide that had hummed in her brain like a deafeningly bad tune. And so she had prayed that she would never be forced to leave the alluring hold that was the bed's appeal. Wishing with all of her dwindling heart that she could simply sleep for the rest of her miserable life, embedded into this room, apart from the constant pain and hurt that the world amongst her felt.

But that was when the pain had begun, and now the excruciating feeling had her tumbling blindly through his doors, in search of her only savior.

"Radditz!" She wailed, catching her body on the wall and balancing her spinning vision. The pain was unimaginable and she'd never felt such a hurt. It was the kind of pain that made a sane person mad, and a mad person sane.

"My heart!" she sobbed, clutching the wall as if it were a consoling person. "My heart feels like it's being broken!" She sank to the ground, bawling her frustrated pain through her eyes, trying desperately to release the vicious hold on her chest. It was as if someone had jabbed her through the bosom with a sword, or shot her with an arrow. She held her body tightly, sobbing and biting her swollen lips to push away the shrieking in her mind.

"Its ok.." she whispered aloud to herself over and over again, her mind slowly reaching that breaking point between sanity and normality. She cradled her knees to her chest, rocking in that maddening way that only the mentally challenged can, back and forth.. back and forth. Her back hitting the cold stone wall, again and again as she began to scream into her lap. Her body was pressed into a tight corner of the hallway she had stumbled into. The darkness enveloped her body, magnifying the desperateness of her situation. Opening her eyes, she glanced around for a beautiful distraction, anything to ebb the serious condition that was affecting her hammering heart. Sweat began to pour into her eyes, seeming to freeze upon her forehead from the cold of the castle. And that's when it hit her..

Cold of the castle?! COLD?!! This was Hell.. This was not COLD!! Shrieking, she pulled her body to her feet, running blindly through the wickedly confusing corridors, stubbing her toe at one point and not even caring.

She slammed head first into a wall, her forehead knocking viciously against the rocky stone. She landed with a mind boggling thud, gazing above. Her heart leaped at the sight of Vegeta's father, snarling down at her. HE.. HE WAS ALIVE!! But she soon found it to be nothing more than a painting. Or so it seemed, as what once appeared a deep, loathing scowl.. soon was replaced with a wicked smirk.. as if the frown had never truly been there.

"He.. he's smiling.." she gasped, totally unconcerned with how crazy she sounded.

"He's happy.." She felt herself nearly shriek in that shrill voice a woman can only acquire through true fear. But then she covered the fear and pain by a stunning mask of resolute challenge.

"Why?" The question seemed to thicken the air with it's intensity. And the gorgeous Demon only seemed to glare back, so much like his son. Standing up, she snarled in his face, baring her teeth in that way only known to a true Demon. As quickly as she had seen it appear, the grin faded and was replaced with sickening bared teeth. She gasped, running her fingers through her hair. How could this be? .. He was dead. He was now nothing more than a painting.

Stricken with courage foreign to her personality, she thrust her hand out and slid her nails wickedly across his face. Five deep tears cursed the once brilliant painting, and stood out relentlessly on his face, bearing the resemblance to that of a tiger's claw. But still.. those piercing black eyes bore through the picture, more alive then ever.

It's then that the blood began to appear, pouring through the blackened tears, and seeping down the wall in placid streams. She covered her mouth as she began to scream, filling the castle with her high pitched wails. She backed away, far enough so that her back smacked into a wall, and she quivered at the feeling of being trapped by the torn painting. Those eyes!! Those eyes!!

What did it mean!? And that's when the sickening, vomit inducing thought hit her. The King's portrait was bleeding. His son was quite possibly battling her relentless father. She covered her mouth at the gasp that flared into her throat. Vegeta's family inheritance was dying. The proud name was bleeding. But.. she tried to force back the pain that quivered in her body.. But what about Vegeta?

Glaring self righteously at the mutilated painting, she set off, running at full speed through the black corridors, no longer feeling so blind as she simply followed the flesh freezing cold air. It bit into her cheeks and nose, and still she pushed forward, trying to ignore the fact that this was all so unpredictable. So strange.

And that's when the cold air fluttered around her.. stronger and colder than ever before. And.. so obviously seeping from under her door frame. It was coming from her room!!

She cursed the quick in take of air that seemed to cloud her lungs with it's intense cold. She shivered, and noticed her own breath huddling in front of her vision. She backed momentarily away from the door that seemed to generate the piercing air. Her swollen lips began to shake and her teeth threatened to chatter. Could she go in there? What might she see?

But then.. let's think about this.. Were her thoughts at all reasonable?! I mean.. come on! OF COURSE she should go in! DUH!! What.. was she gonna just stay out there all day long in case she might not like what she saw? What is with people? Why delay the inevitable? Why hesitate what you know you're going to do eventually? AH! Such mind provoking questions.. but I am getting side tracked again.. Forgive me for my insolence once more..

Now my fair reader.. Where was I? Ah.. Yes now I remember..

Her quivering, pale fingers reached for the door knob, so slowly and fearfully she nearly was forced to believe the digits had a mind of their own. Her shivering fingertip touched the metal knob, drawing back as if they were burnt. It was so cold that the door knob felt like a mound of ice. But she could not stay out here forever (*Growl. what did I tell ya?) .. and so, burrowing in her pain and insanity that she could no longer take alone, she cracked open the frozen door, hearing the sound of rusty metal as she inched her way into the room.

Peeking her eyes around and allowing her body to step into the icy room, her hand flew to her mouth, failing to stifle the bloody scream that ripped instantaneously through her throat. She felt the cold settle into her stomach and freeze her body where she stood, gazing in horror at the mind chilling scene.

"Ve." She swallowed and tried again. "Vegeta?" She whispered.

He lay on the floor, propped up against her wall, his large chest heaving up and down, up and down.. and she noticed with nausea fluttering around her.. that with every breath, more and more blood seeped from the hole in his chest. He was gasping for breath, lips purple and skin a sick shade of blue. The pale bluish color that only haunts the flesh of the dying or the dead. His armored chest rose violently upwards as his lungs begged him desperately for the air they were selfishly being denied. Her wide eyes landed upon the puddle of blood encircling his body, and she had to turn away before the vomit gripped her throat. 'My God..' she gasped inwardly. 'There's. there's so much.'

It hardly seemed real. As if in some kind of phony horror movie, where there's just too much blood.. You know what I mean! When you tell your friend watching with you that it's barbaric and totally absurd. No one had that much blood.

No.. seriously, she'd never seen so many pools of crimson gathering around a person. It was positively frightening. But perhaps even more sickening was the fact that with every unnatural pump of his heart, blood spurted out of his wound and slid like rivers down his body, pooling in his lap and then sinking into the lake of blood surrounding him.

But if anything could truly convince her of the reality of the situation.. it would have to have been his face. Blood cascaded down his rich, full lips in a sickening drool, seeping onto his chest. His smooth skin was laced with blue veins and the palest color she'd ever seen. His beautiful, piercing eyes were demonically bloodshot, and nearly completely black circles were formed beneath and around his eyes. But what sealed her assumption was the fact that the pupils were turning white.

"He's dying." She whispered into the still air that entangled them. It was as if he had been completely oblivious to her presence, as he looked up at her, eyes wide with shock and pain. He didn't want her to see him like this.

Tears welled into her straining eyes and her hand instinctively wound over her chest, placed upon her sobbing heart. Now she knew why the pain had been inflicting itself upon her. Her heart was breaking.

His lips quivered at the pain, and she felt her stomach contort with domineering sadness. It overwhelmed all other thoughts. He looked so young. No longer the battle hardened warrior he deemed himself, but the true twenty four year old that had been forsaken by a mature façade. Despite their appearance, his eyes only betrayed minimal amounts of the pain he was so obviously experiencing. They only portrayed a deep sadness.

'He's afraid to die.' She whispered inside her mind, realizing with bitter hurt that she could do nothing to stop it. And so.. doing what every respectable girl does when she runs out of options. she cried.

Sinking next to him, her knees were instantly soaked by cold blood. It drenched her white gown and stained her knees that were concealed inside. It was the sickening thickness of old blood that really shook her up. Had he been here for long?

"Vegeta?" she whispered, trying to force the panic from her voice. But as he gazed calmly at her.. the façade was shattered and her crystal blue eyes were watered by unceasing tears.

"Oh God Vegeta!" she screamed, over come by sadness. She was helpless.. she could do nothing. She would not dare her eyes to look at the seeping wound that was an outwards appearance of the heart wrenching truth. He was dying and she could do nothing to stop that.

"It's ok Princess." he whispered to her, releasing a tight smile. a desperately sad attempt to sooth her hysteria. But the smile remained only temporarily as she sobbed, lost in her pain for him. Had her father been telling the truth? Did she. did she love him? He could only curse the irony of the situation. He'd never know. He touched her frozen cheek, trying to stop the tears that were releasing themselves upon the world. He admired her soft cheek, tracing the structured bones underneath.

"I'm. sorry." He gasped in between heaving breaths. He looked into her shining eyes.

"I couldn't." He gasped harshly, the air forcing it's way from between his lips.

"I couldn't. die. alone." He stammered through the violent rise and fall of his chest. Forgetting all of her pent up hatred of him, she leaned on top of him, trying desperately to avoid causing any more pain, as she sobbed into his neck. It was as if they were reliving that legendary night when a beautiful King had awoken his prisoner in her sleep, and she.. caught up in her own tragic sorrow, had found comfort in his arms.

"Vegeta!..." she sobbed, on the very pinnacle of hysteria.

"Vegeta don't say that.. please don't say that." She begged, holding on to him for strength as the pain engulfed her body. He entangled her hair with gentle fingertips, burying his face into the soft strands that he knew he would remember for eternity. Life or death. He would never forget her.

"I'm sorry Angel." He whispered, voice hoarse with pain. She only hung tighter, as if by dwindling in her clutch, his life would escape her.

"Don't go.." she whispered into his ear, her cheek pressed tightly into his. "Don't go." She tried to stop the sobbing, but found her self burrowing deeper into the warmth of his throat. She lay with him for what seemed like hours, entrapped by their own pain and need of each other. She wouldn't leave his side. Not for a moment.

"Angel.." he finally whispered. Her teeth clenched as she feared the worst. "Angel.. I must go now."

I think those words were forever imbedded into her mind, and she allowed one heart breaking sob to escape her body, coming directly from her battered soul.

"No.." she wailed shaking her head. "No!" "You cannot leave me!.. you cannot leave me like this!" She felt the urge to pound his chest in her rage, but fought the desperate feeling. With all of her being, she just couldn't let him go. What about all the time they spent together? Didn't he know how much she needed him?

"Vegeta please!" She begged, never even taking noticed to the shaking sobs that drowned her voice.

"Fight it! I know you can.. I know it!" she pleaded, pulling back to look into his hurtful eyes. Her faith in him was riveting. Her courage made him feel like the man she had wanted him to be.

"Princess." he sighed, feeling his pain magnify with each word.

"I won't be here much longer. I can't fight it." It was the only battle he'd ever truly lost. And it had been with the only creature no man can defeat. Death.

"But.. Not like this." She sobbed.. She took his face with both hands, placed very gently on to the sides of his cheeks.

"Don't you know how much I.. ." she faltered, the sobs breaking her words.

"Don't you know how much I need you?" her bottom lip began to quiver in fear and pain. As she saw his eyes begin to glaze, she panicked, doing the only thing she could think of.

"RADDITZ!!" She wailed, facing the door. "RADDITZ!!" She clutched her flailing chest in pain. As if by some miracle, he appeared, rushing through the doorway.

Upon seeing his master and his friend, he nearly vomited. Vegeta's lips were dark blue, and his coloring was pale. death pale.

"Radditz do something!" the Princess pleaded, dress ruined as she huddled in a pool of her captor's blood. Her fingers were enlaced with his own, both apparently holding on for strength, though he had no idea what ailed the Angel. She seemed so desperate, holding on to insanity as she relied souly upon him to spare the life of this creature she had given her heart to, from the evil clutches of death. She cared so deeply for him. Radditz could only wish from the bottom of his heart that he had the power to do so. He could only imagine the monster Draco would be, if given the throne to do so. Still.. wishing would not delay the inevitable.

"There's nothing I can do." He stated, trying to hide the pain that engulfed his body like a virus. Bulma's face dropped, and he could have sworn he could almost see her heart shatter onto the floor.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, dropping his eyes from her pitiful gaze.

"Please.." she whispered into the still air. "Please.."

He walked out of the room as his own tears began to glide down his cheeks, apologizing once more for his failure.

As she watched his retreating back, all hopes came crashing down like broken shards of pottery. Like a vase that once held marvelous roses, the scene still portrayed signs of hope, but in reality would never be. She stared broken at Vegeta, beaten. She'd failed him. She'd failed herself.

She stared into those once blank eyes, now so full of feelings she'd once doubted existed. How had she believed for so long that he couldn't feel? She felt him. As much as she wished she couldn't he was there. Always. And now as she watched that beautiful life fade, she hoped she always could. Her head dropped in shame.

She remembered him. Not the dying creature before her, but the man she had despised with all of her living soul. She'd feared him at first, never knowing how much of her heart he had the power to possess. He had been her enemy, the man that she was raised to despise. But she had failed in that too. But she was glad. Her love for him had made her strong, and she would never regret such a beautiful thing. She refused to regret how she felt for him.

She could remember the first time he'd kissed her. The kiss that held no meaning for either that had blossomed into a whirl wind of emotion. She recalled waking up in a mask of pain, and finding herself enveloped in his mighty arms, comforting her when no one else was there. Caring for her when she was the only one he was not supposed to. When no one else cared, they had found each other.

So now what? Who would hold her now? Kiss her? Care for her?.. and then she began to sob once more, soul as broken as his torn heart. Who would dance with her?

She could still feel him holding her, feel the air spinning around them as they danced, healthy and happy in each other's midst. She closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder.

She still felt the cool marble beneath her feet, the sweet smell of incense lightly burn her nostrils, and the wind whipped her curled hair as he twirled her through the air. She could.. she could remember his smile. That devilish smirk she had once believed to be so empty, which only time had revealed, was as intense and spirited as he was.

This was how she would remember him.

They would always be dancing.

Chapter 26

"Some body please!!" She screamed, her hoarse voice echoing throughout the icy cold room. She could almost hear it's barbaric tone bounce off of the smooth walls. This room was freezing. Forsaken and dismal. The dim lighting that had once existed was quickly dwindling and vast shadows were enveloping the room. The corners and crevices were pitch dark to the normal eye, and although she remained in her own room, she feared the secret presences that possibly lingered in the unholy shadows surrounding them.

Vegeta was beginning to fade in and out of consciousness, his eyes going blank at times and then clear. At times he would look straight ahead, trying to feign gazing at her, when she knew that it was quite possible the strong demon saw nothing at all. His gaze was utterly empty. Void of that strength and arrogance it held with immense power. His face was pale and the area around his eyes placid. Dark rims graced far below his eye lids and seemed to pool along his cheeks. He even appeared thinner then before, though such thoughts were possibly wrong seeing how he'd only been injured for a few sick hours. But every muscle in his body was loosened and with his masculine qualities at bay, she could see with precision, every flawless amount of feminine beauty he held. He was so exquisite.

Blood dripped slowly down his mouth, and he made no attempt to brush it away, even as the thick liquid began to puddle inside the crevice of his throat,. you know.. that spot in the middle where your throat and chest meet. There was too much blood, she almost felt as if she were drowning in it. And then the sickening thought that plagued her spinning thoughts the most.. was the fact that.She was losing him.

"Vegeta, please hold on!" She begged. Looking hard at him. it took all of her strength as an Angel, to push away from the dying creature. She tore out of his embrace, fleeing from the room. She didn't even glance back. She couldn't bare it any longer. She just couldn't. She started into a sprint, her eyes shooting this way and that as she prayed for another living being to inhabit that part of the castle. She ran into Vegeta's room, half expecting to find some horde of concubines lazing around, before she remembered that she had been the one laying in his bed that day. She would find no help in that room, so full of bad memories.

And so she continued to run as fast as her legs could carry her through countless corridors, her cold feet slapping the hard marble as she sprinted through the blinding hallways. At times she could not even see five feet in front of her, but her pace did not dwindle. She just ran.

Tears streamed down her face, blinding the already unseeable, but she didn't whip them away. Even when the cold wetness began to slide down her throat, she paid it no heed. Let them come.. she'd had enough of being strong.

"HELLO!" She screamed.. More tears pounded down her face as no answer came. No answer.. No one. Nothing.. the helplessness remained.

"HELLO!!.. Someone!.." Her chest began to sere with over whelming pain. She could feel death.. But it was not her's. For she could feel his death. And it was fast approaching. Almost like a predator, hunting and stalking it's defenseless prey. And the poor forsaken creature knew it was there. Hiding amongst the shadows, watching...waiting. But as always.. the prey could do nothing to stop the indomitable hunter.

Her chin smacked hard against the cold surface of the ground, the world turning into a twirling ceaseless reality. She felt and heard her teeth smack and grind hard together, the porcelain sound echoing into her spinning head. She'd fallen, and she'd fallen hard. Her breast had taken the brunt of the ventureless attack and she moaned at the surging pain that wrack the already tender muscles. Come on ladies.. you know what I mean. You know the feeling.. ouch.

Her body lay flat against the rock hard, inflexible ground that had been the culprit for her unseemly trip, and though her mind was still swirling from the harsh impact, she cursed the heartless creation that had added to her overwhelming misery. She simply lay her head down, and began.. for the thousandth time since being a captive in Hell.. she began sobbing her life out.

"It's too much." She whispered between sobs, her wailing so violent her head tended to bang against the slick black marble beneath. Her bawling echoed through the countless corridors.. But what did she care? No one was there. And that fact burrowed deeper into her sanity, creating a biting chaos inside her mind.

She glanced at her fingers through blurry eyes, watching the members lie so still.. Lying pale and shivering on the black marble. She hated them. They weren't alone. They would forever be accompanied by another creation, never dwindling upon the brink of insanity from tearing grief. Once Vegeta died.. as was certain, she would be alone. She'd always been alone in truth.. but then.. she'd never felt the feeling of content she had experienced with the Demon around. He had instilled in her, a feeling of wholeness.. as if when they were together.. they were simply complete. And so he had awoken a need in her. Nothing sexual.. well... not really. A need for companionship and mostly. a need for him. But what good would such a need be to her now? It would only cause the wicked seed of grief to stem further, stretching it's heartless roots deeper inside of her shattered emotions.

And so the Angel ceased her sobbing, and simply lay there, beaten and broken. Her finger tips brushed against the smooth surface of the ground, and she simply observed them.

Their simplicity.. Their talent..their odd beauty. The small lines that decorated their surface, the creases, the nails. She had once taken care of those nails she knew. There were days when she had felt as if breaking one was a sin in itself. She could spend hours admiring and fixing them, daydreaming off in her shallow little world about meaningless things that meant nothing in the long run. But those mindless days were over and she knew it, though secretly she longed for them once again. What was the world like back when the most horrible circumstance ever was to break a nail? Why couldn't such meager things plague her mind now?

It was all too real. Have you ever watched a movie.. you know, the tragic type where someone that another person loves, dies? And yes.. you feel bad for them.. and yes.. perhaps you cry. But it doesn't really touch you does it? Not really. For when days pass.. The hurt is gone. The scenes forgotten. But then comes the day when a relative.. or. or say a lover for instance. is gone. Can you so easily dismiss such a tragedy? Like that movie.. does the effect soon fade away? No. unfortunately it does not. It's too real.. it's too much.

Or.. let's take another approach. Have you ever had the experience of learning of the death of a close loved one? Have you? For those of us who have.. I'm sorry. Such a loss is unfathomable. Which is exactly the point I am attempting to make. That day, when informed of such a tragedy.. what was your first reaction? Did you not immediately deny what the person had told you? If not outloud, in your heart did you not doubt the truthfulness of such words? Did you not hate the bearer of bad news? But then there was that awful little part of you that knew.. knew all along that there would be no reason for a person to make up such a thing. It is out way of grieving. our heart's trying to console themselves with blind logic and distrust. Pity our foolish practicality.

And so the feeling was with Bulma, as she lay withered in her own pool of broken dreams. Dreams.. would you not agree that dreams are a goal that you have sought after for some time? But it was not so with Bulma. Her dreams had only unleashed themselves upon her the moment she met Vegeta. But how was it that her dreams.. her.. future lets say, began to revolve around such a monster?

She didn't even know when exactly she had discovered how much she cared for him. Was there ever a time when it just hit her? Like a bolt of lightening from the sky, did she all of a sudden just know? She doubted it. Such reasoning seemed childish. Like some bad fairytale where one minute people despise each other and the next are so deeply in love that it turns them both into sappy, whipped schmucks. So when? Perhaps.perhaps it was something she'd known all along.. and she'd tried to hide it, from him of course.. but she reasoned, mostly herself. She'd used it as yet another excuse to hate him. But she didn't hate him, though she almost wished she could. There was a thin line between love and hate.. that much was made perfectly clear. It was no small saying, but a legacy she had lived. One minute she could have sworn, that had she the strength to do so, she would have gladly ended his life herself. But then, as things turned out. she realized how much she couldn't bare to live without him. She wasn't even sure how she'd made it so long without his companionship. It felt so much stronger then just companionship. It was a strange kind of friendship that he had built upon by showing her the painting of her mother. His kindness to her had not always been so blatantly demonstrated and it was only now when she lay crumpled to the floor pondering, that she realized how much worse it could have been for her. Had a demon been a captive in Heaven, granted he lived that long, he would be caged in the dungeon. And that thought brought streaks of pain into her chest. She cared a lot about him.

But was it just blind infatuation? She knew that girls her age had fallen victim to such a virus before. She'd always claimed to never bow to such extreme insolence. Never falling blindly for a man, bad boy or not. Damn him for making her love him! Did he not know how weak a woman's heart was?! Didn't he know what his death was doing to her?

And so there she lay. defeated, beaten, and shamed. It was all she could think about. She couldn't loose him. Not like this. Never like this. She'd lost too many things. But she was helpless. Hopeless and the wicked word brought a dull sort of feeling as it squirmed through her quivering mind.

She rolled into a disgraceful ball, never leaving the bare marble. She wrapped her arms around her knees, bringing them closer and looking at them in only remote disgust. Her dress was stained and she knew her face and arms were covered in blood. But what did such meager things really matter? In the long run, nothing mattered anymore. She had no idea what the future held. She never had, but especially not now. And so she began again to think of him.

Vegeta. That monster. that devil. that heartless fiend. The creature she had been born to hate like nothing else. She'd known from the start how horrible his line of ancestors were. She'd been raised around that knowledge, around the legends. And he was by far the worst. From a young age his life style was well known. Infamous, legendary. He was known to be far more violent, heartless entirely and savage in a way that could almost be considered skillful. For he knew of ways to torture a soul until the very last breath they took, they screamed for death. His strength was not well known, as she figured he might have concealed such information until the time was right. Until it was time to slaughter his own father.

And he'd done so, at the age of 20, at the age of man hood. With no second thoughts, not conscience, no care. Or so she figured. He was only a shell of a man. True emotions that create character were void of him. He knew only hatred.. Only the fresh feeling of rage and anger. Or so she had once been brought to believe.

And now her hatred was over. Just like that. So simple. So quick. She'd been wrong. But maybe. she sighed. maybe it had been easier that way. To simply look upon the beautiful creature with distain and loathing. Never wanting to see him for what potential he truly possessed but only peering at the strong amount of wickedness he bore on his shoulders for the world to see. And now she almost wished she hadn't seen what was truly there. Hadn't looked harder. If only she'd ignored the fact that there was so much more inside of him, she wouldn't be in such pain when he was leaving this world.

And that thought brought about even more anguish, crunching her tightly into a grief stricken ball. He had no hope. He'd never be anything more than a demon. In this life or the next. So where would he go? She knew the after life for her kind.. But what for his? Damn him yet again.. Not only would she be forever pained by his death in this life.. but she would forever worry about his life in the next. If only she had seen him for the arrogant, stone hearted, merciless vampire that he was.

Vampire....Vampire....Vampire?

VAMPIRE!!!

Her nails dug into the marble as she jolted to her feet, scrapping like a cat against a bench post. In one second she was off the ground and running through the darkness.

"Please God don't let me be too late." She whispered, banging her toe into a sharp corner. 'Fuck!' she screamed in her mind, her foot absolutely throbbing. But she ignored it.. spinning, running, twisting through the maze of hallways. Her feet carried her faster than ever before. as if there was someone almost pushing her towards him. Like some strange magnetic force. Faster and faster and faster she ran.. She didn't see the blinding darkness dwelling before her eyes. She saw only him. Felt him. Her wings shot out behind her, and she had to push them back to avoid the pull of the air. They would only slow her down. Don't get lost.. Don't get lost.

And if by some miracle.. some grace from God above.. She didn't.

She felt the swirling air, nearly empty of it's usually ferocious embrace. She threw open the door, staring down as his eyes rolled in and out of his head. It was close.. but he was still there. fighting. Just like always. Even on the brink of death.. he wouldn't go with out causing a little Hell. Arrogant, stubborn bastard. Could he never go quietly. But she was not displeased at all with his determination. She was riling in it.

Feeling her enter the room, his eyes attempted to focus, though it seemed as if they were not truly peering at her, but off to another place. They were empty of that glossy luster they usually held.

"Don't go.." he whispered. "Don't leave me." The words were said, so void of emotion and strength, it touched her. He was still fighting, but there wasn't much more he could give.

She choked back the tears. She'd cried enough to last a life time. It was time to be strong. To be the woman her mother had taught her to be.

But she paused, kneeling down beside him, her fingers twisting amongst his, in that beautiful way only couples can pull off. He attempted to smirk at her, to show her that even at the brink of death. he could still retain some of that fiery spirit that was his legacy. Bastard. Her eyebrows twisted up in concern, though only subconsciously.

"That bad eh?" he tried to chuckle, which only caused a grotesque sound to echo in his wet wind pipe. She only gazed at him, her heart and her mind in a sparing match. She wanted to save him. but..it was wrong. Not other way to put it. There was no sugar coating this truth. It was wrong beyond anything.

She'd been grown to believe that Angels were to show mercy always. Always. But not to Demons. Not to Demon Kings. She would be betraying everything she had been taught, everything she knew was holy. She'd be betraying her own kind, treason. Forbidden, forsaken. She'd become just as much a monster as he. The blood of his future victims would drip into the palms of her own hands. Could she do it? Could she simply watch his life dwindle and spark out of existence?

She couldn't.. she just ..sigh.. She just couldn't. Could you? Her heart would never forgive her the pain such a scene would cause. She'd never be able to live with the guilt.

Now I know how fickle humans are. We enjoy using such strong words as Love and Hate as friverously as possible. But when it comes down to basics. even our worst enemies.. could we watch them die? Could we let them go without even trying to stop it? Would you be able to forgive yourself? No..

And so.. lying over him, she pressed her lips into his own, relishing the coppery taste of his blood. It didn't sicken her like you'd expect, like she'd expect. The folds of infatuation were too strong. Have you ever been at that point.. when nothing the person did could push you away? Well.. she was there, and as they kissed, for what would be the last time, she held him with a passion never before displayed.

His dry lips touched her's, and she knew she would never forget the feelings that cascading through her body as his hands roamed along her back, seemingly forgetting the pain, forgetting the hate and resolute loathing and simply opening himself to her. He would never forget the sacrifice she was about to make for him. For what she was going to do.. would forever forsake her from Heaven's grace. As forsaken as he was.

She didn't want to let go. If she kissed him forever, would that erase the future? Would that stop the deceitful series of time? She knew it would not and so pulling away from him, she glanced deeply into his eyes, letting him know that she was serious about her actions. In fact, she doubted she'd ever been more serious in her life.

And so.. as often happens, her heart overcame her mind and she pulled her hair to one side, exposing the two bloody holes he had created nights before. His eyes widened only a fraction, as if asking what in God's name she truly intended to do.

"Drink Vegeta." She told him, voice as clear as day. She refused to let any amount of doubt or regret permeate her voice. She felt none of the bitter effects of an unresolved heart. This was what she wanted and slowly she watched as his shock turned to almost horrified anger.

"N-.no." He stammered, attempting to push himself away from her, though his back was already placed firmly against the wall.

"DO IT!!" She screamed, thrusting herself over him and pressing her throat to his face. She should have known the stubborn asshole would refuse. He was so proud like that. Damn him for the millionth time tonight! He tried to push her away, obviously afraid of the inner creature taking over and doing the unthinkable. He didn't trust himself. Not in this state. He was too weak.. too unstable.

"How can you ask me to do such a thing!" He screamed with as much force as he could collect. He seemed hurt, hardened and in excruciating pain. She was toying with his weakness, exposing his inner desires. He would not bow to such an atrocious act. But the resolve look in her eyes, dissipated into hurt and more than a little frustration. She was the only creature alive that could alternate his powerful will with nothing more than a glance.

"Do not ask me to do this!" He begged, trying to inch away from her. But she only came closer, grabbing his face and pressing it to her throat, subjecting herself to his savage fangs. She didn't care. It was obvious. Was this nothing more than another one of her dramatic suicide pleas?

"Do you not know what the consequences of this might be!" He cried, forcing his eyes to look away from the two bleeding holes along her throat. Amazing that they hadn't healed as of yet. And unfortunate for his instincts were beginning to take over, his weakness beginning to beg for release, as the smell of blood began to seep into his nostrils.

And she had seen the look, witnessed the glance. She looked at him, square in the eye.. Seeming to say. 'This is what I want.' His anger dissipated, almost into fear.

"But I could kill you." He whispered, his lifeless eyes beginning to dull once again. He could feel death's cold clutch, grip his thunderous heart once more. It sent shivers of panic through his skin. He didn't want to die.. he knew such things. He didn't love her. She held no use to him anymore and she was definitely expendable. So why shouldn't he take her life? He had no need of her any longer. She hadn't even served her purpose. But though he kept trying to convince himself, he knew she meant more to him than that.

All thoughts were lost, as she pressed her lips to his once more, wrapping her arms around his neck and gently pulling him closer. He could feel his body calm, subjecting to her tender warmth. relaxing into her embrace, placed underneath her spell.

The Angel and the Devil kissed, holding each other in a legendary embrace, before the creature of Light pulled away and gave him the perhaps the most beautiful sacrifice of all time.

Leaning into his ear.. she whispered three words that had never before been utter to him.

"I trust you."

And before he could deny any further, instinct overwhelmed his reason, and he plunged his teeth into her deep, open wounds.

Chapter 27

Bulma regained consciousness before Vegeta, finding herself piled on top of his sleeping form. Her face was nuzzled into his neck and his light breathing tickled her hair. She lifted her head gently, so as not to disturb him, and gazed at his face.

He was still alive. Sweet God so mercifully alive! She had to again choke back the tears that seemed intent to spring to her eyes so often. But these tears were different. These were tears of joy, excessively beautiful in their plaguing rarity. She gasped out loud, not even seeing any part of him flinch. This on it's own was a threatening sign simply because Vegeta was known to have cat like reflexes to incessant sound.

She stared at the pools of darkness surrounding his eyes, almost giving him an even more exquisite look. Vegeta was gorgeous.. to say other wise would be to openly insult one's own intelligence. But sleeping, and so obviously still within death's clutches.. he was simply exotic. But such thoughts seemed foreign to her at such a time. For fear still held her in it's penetrating embrace, as she noticed his intake of breath was far from regular and came in short, quick gasps. At times, his body quaked, muscle spasms not unknown to the dying or the dead.

She could tell from the way her head spun it had been several hours since Vegeta's dark kiss. Lifting her head had sent waves of shrieking pain through the open wounds of her neck. But the strangest thing was. the feeling of utter pain had a sense of.. Erotic pleasure. It sent strange sensations through her tense and sore body. Apparently being drained of your energy was devastating on your muscles and created painful stabs of strain. But all in all, her throat hurt the worst. Were the two bite marks were left, they were followed by two thick bloody streaks, results of the Demon's having to tear his teeth from her fleshy throat. It had taken every amount of strength that had remained or that he had gained, to push away from her. allowing her to live.

But that in itself was a confusing notion. Bulma was no fool. Not always for that matter. She knew her lot in life had no doubt gone from dwindling to none existent in the past 24 hours. It was now painfully obvious that she was no longer needed for ransom.. therefore... She was utterly expendable. And she knew this. Vegeta didn't need her, but he had spared her. Was it possible that perhaps in the way of things, he cared for her? She knew he must have developed some kind of emotional attachment to her in the past month.

Who had he gone through so much trouble for? He'd gotten her clothes, provided a gorgeous room for her, given her gifts.. and.. though the moment called for seriousness.. Bulma had to smile. Who had the all mighty Demon King been so intent on kissing the night of the celebration? She forced her mind not to even remind her of the fact that it wasn't exactly HER he'd spent the night with.. but even so!

And then an even darker thought crossed her mind.. further negotiating her predicament of his care. Who's room had he come to die in? It was so morbid. Such a thought should make her sick.. but that was before. She'd become too stained.. too jaded to ponder over such belittling matters. She was an Angel.. she would always be. But now.. She knew that she would also never be like them. She was an outcast. Thrown and denied Heaven due to her accursed heart, and forsaken by Hell for her enthralling appearance. But she would make due.

Don't you find it amazing that when you know a certain person you care for will be with you. the world could through anything your way and you'd take it with pride. Because you know.. that beside you.. fighting with honor and a loyalty never before displayed.. would be that person. Well.. if you know what I'm talking about then rest assured that you can understand the feelings that were sorting through an unconcerned Angel.

What did she care? Things that had held so much importance to her only a brief few hours ago.. were now so petty and empty. Seeing the monster she'd grown to care for, lying in a puddle of his own blood was enough to erase all other thoughts from her mind. So if such.. seemingly detrimental matters.. could be demolished from thought in a mere second.. did they really hold such importance?

Suddenly, Radditz walked into the room, a brave, resolute face contorting his usually complex character. He had whipped all emotion from his appearance and stood there with a calm façade of a man. a soldier doing what he knew he must do. He had expected to find his master.. his King.. and even harder, his friend to be dead. He had swallowed the grief, buried it in a corner of his room, where he had wallowed in his own pain. He'd held his knees and cursed every wretched sob that cracked his heart in two. It was not honorable to mourn in such a way. But he couldn't stop the pain. Couldn't stop the inevitable tears that refused to be condemned. Fuck the memories. Fuck it all.

To see Vegeta lying there.. it was like dying. It was like being torn in half. To know he had no control, was emptiness one could not even begin to explain in mere words. So I will not even try. But know this.

A Demon's grief is nothing like our own. It's different. not so pure. For when humans retort that they wish they could have said goodbye.. a Demon curses the fact that the creature responsible for such a murder was not around. Demon's thrive on revenge. And on honor. It is quite possible that Radditz had wept for the mere fact that he could never decipher who had slaughtered his King. He could never avenge the dishonorable death of his life long friend. Or perhaps I am yet again jumping to conclusions. For remember my friends.. this is merely my version of a tale.. In all reality, we will never know the true workings that had inhabited Radditz's heart in those quaking hours. How can I truly put such pain into simple words. Though writing is a powerful tool. like any other object.. it can be useless at times. And of now.. my words have failed me, for I cannot truly describe the pain the dwelt in a Demon's soul, while he prayed to any God that existed if only in legend, to spare his companion's life.

"Please." he had whispered, rocking back and forth in a way only recognizable to the mentally strained. The tears had fallen shamelessly onto his knees, as he held them to his chest.

"Please.. take me instead." It had been too much, and soon he had found himself to have been sleeping, that kind of mournful sleep. More like a desperate escape then actual rest. I think we all know the type. Caught amongst unrealities that taunt our memory.

How many times had he fought with the proud Demon Prince? All those years.. and not once had the young royal beaten him. He could remember laughing, constantly jeering the young creatures efforts. Taunting him with biting words. But through it all, Vegeta had never given up. Not once. There were days when he would be reduced to carrying the handsome Demon back to the palace, only to be met with the disdainful glance of the King. He'd never cared.

Vegeta could have been gone for days.. and the King's notice would never grace such a matter. They had both known it.

))))))))))((((((((((( (((((((((())))))))))) ))))))))))(((((((((((

"No Radditz!" Cried the ten year old Vegeta.

"Don't quit yet! I'm just about to beat you!" It was an unmistakable untruth and both knew it. Radditz had once again beaten the arrogant Prince to a bloody pulp and was almost surprised that he could even stand on his own two feet.

"Sorry your "Highness." Radditz had smirked, leaning over the younger boy, taking full advantage of the growth spurt he had been blessed with at age 13. Although Vegeta was three years younger, his strength was far greater than that of Radditz's at such an age, but we won't go into that.

"Your mommy's probably calling you. Better crawl home." He had mocked. Vegeta's fierce little gaze had wavered and Radditz's smirk dissipated as he realized his comment had gone much too far.

Queen Sasha had been dead for nearly a year. and still the pain was inconsolable in Vegeta. It always would be.. for she had been the one.. the only one.. who had ever believed in him. He clenched his teeth back, placing his cold façade over his appearance, just like he had for so many years. It was better to show nothing than be thought of as nothing. But he couldn't fool Radditz. He never could. Never would.

Radditz had not missed the far distance look that was displayed in the young eyes of the Prince. Those eyes had lost their luster at a young age, now giving the ten year old the appearance of age. The older Demon straightened up, regarding the other with a respect that deemed it's own apology.

"I meant, your father will probably be looking for you." Again a mistake. But it was not one that he could ever erase. He never had been able to. The fact was.. Vegeta was invisible to the King.. A with a sickening thought, Radditz knew that the only time when the Demon King had ever displayed any interest was when experimenting with what he considered fun.

(((((((((

Fun. Now when we hear such a word.. we imagine parties.. and drinking. Or perhaps some of the younger readers.. Chucky Cheese.. If that is the case, stop reading! Your much too young for such content! But I'm getting away aren't I? Now what was I saying.. ah yes.. When we hear the word fun, a sort of .. calming happiness replaces our character and we feel a certain amount of joy. Correct?

When Vegeta heard the word fun.. he knew of it's content like a nightmare. Radditz shivered, remembering the death that had wavered in Vegeta's eyes after his father's "fun." Fun had apparently been to beat his youngest son, nearly to his life's end.. and leave him in a dungeon of bodies for a week. Or had it been two?

It had taken the young Prince months to recover, as if you could ever truly believe he'd recovered. Radditz could remember that look. that sickening look that haunted the boy's gaze. Could still hear the incoherent ramblings of the insane chatter that arose from his mouth. Could still hear the child's screams into the night.

The night that held the most horror, was only a few days after Vegeta had been brought from the dungeon. Radditz had crawled blindly through the darkness of the palace and snuck into his friend's room. He had settled beside the writhing body of his life long companion, trying to sooth the whimpers that escaped his small body. And then he'd fallen asleep.

The terror of awakening to piercing screams would forever invade his thoughts. He had jolted from his side of the bed, only to discover Vegeta staring in horror at his body. He had started to tear strips of his own flesh away, discarding the bleeding ribbons on to the bed.

"THEY'RE ON ME!!! THEY'RE ON ME!!" He had screamed, clawing the bloody wounds with jagged fingers. He had broken his nails into the wounds.

"THE BODIES!!" He screamed, closing his eyes and sobbing into the cold air. Against all nature and concepts of honor, Radditz had enclosed his young Prince into his embrace, crying with him. Showing him he wasn't alone. He would never be alone. And Vegeta had responded by holding onto his only friend in a way that should never have been characteristic of a proud Prince.

"Don't let em' get me Radditz.." he sobbed in a whisper.

"Keep em' away. Don't let them get me." And Radditz had tried over and over to convince the hysterical child that nothing was near. But it hadn't worked and finally he simply snuggled closer to his grieving friend, holding him against his breast and breathing whispers of relief to him.

"I won't Vegeta.. I promise I won't."

)))))))))))))))(((((((((((( ((((((((((((((())))))))))))

The young Vegeta simply scoffed his sparring partner's mention of his father looking for him, waving a little dimpled hand into the air.

"We both know that would never happen Radditz.. Now stop making excuses and get ready for the beating of your life!"

(((((((((((())))))))))))) (((((((((((())))))))))))) ((((((((((())))))))))))))

And that night, like so many others.. Radditz had carried his little companion home, utterly and completely unconscious.

The Demon warrior had sobbed himself to sleep, screaming at himself for not keeping the monsters away like he promised.

But as he walked solemnly into the freezing cold room, he felt the thick sensation of tears collect once again on the rims of his eyes. Vegeta was alive, and some.. very little mind you.. of his coloring had returned.

"W--- What happened?" He whispered softly, not baring to unleash his mournful tone upon the world, lest his pent up tears be released in his words. Bulma simply stared at Vegeta, tears of her own lining the thick rims of her eyes. She gasped, laughing through her pain.

It was then that Radditz noticed her throat, and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Two deep tears were imbedded along her neck, and dried blood decorated Vegeta's mouth, either his own or her's. The King had used the Angel's life force, bringing himself back. He'd delved in her healing powers as well, providing enough of the regenerating factors to keep his heart beating. But from the looks of it, he'd only used as little as possible.

And the Princess was fine. Alive and well.. uh.. pretty well anyway. It was very. and I mean VERY rare for an Angel to live through such an experience and an even more rare occurrence for a Demon to actually spare their life by choice. The Demon King had fed from her and allowed her to live. Amazing demonstration of self control.

"I must move him." Radditz spoke softly, trying not to startle the shivering white winged creature huddling next to his Lord.

"He may have a chance now." He loved to speak such words, knowing with almost certainty that his King would not have fought so hard just to let go now. In his heart he knew the arrogant bastard would make a full recovery, granting his follower and secret friend the honor of exacting ultimate punishment upon the accursed creature that dared attempt to destroy such a life.

"No thanks to you." Bulma scoffed in that indignant way all her own. She turned presumptuously away from him, not even noticing how painful her comment had truly been. Sometimes she could be so impetuous it was almost embarrassing.

"If you knew how hard it was for me to see my King like that!" He growled furiously, fully prepared to take his shame for himself out on her. But he caught himself before unleashing words that may have caused them both more pain then ever necessary.

"If you knew how hard it was for me to see Vegeta like that.. you'd understand." He replied calmly. He sent her a look that spoke volumes of it's own. And like a lightening bolt, Bulma did understand.

It was like a whole new world being opened up to her. Demons weren't heartless! Not most. They just simply did not show their emotions with words. In a way, their feelings ran much stronger. Much deeper. What they did not pronounce aloud was demonstrated with actions. They never spoke of their feelings or care. They showed them.

And Radditz had called the Demon by his name. His name! The name she'd so often been scolded for using! But then.. like another bolt of electricity generating through her brain, she realized what such a title meant to the guard. Radditz had probably grown up with Vegeta. Probably been more of a brother to him then even Draco. And now it was obvious that for him to see someone, he cared so deeply for, dying.. must have been excruciating for him. He couldn't watch his friend go without displaying shameful bouts of emotion. She glanced at the swollen, red rims that lined beneath the white of his eyes. He'd been crying.

"I think I do understand Radditz." She smiled. And they shared a moment. A silent moment that displayed more than words could ever accomplish. They both cared so deeply for this creature. It was not a jealous kind of caring. It was something deeper that both could share. And just like that.. it was over..

Radditz nodded in acknowledgement to her before carefully picking up his King. He glanced down at the slightly furrowed eyebrows and complex cheekbones, again agreeing with himself what a handsome devil his friend had turned out to be. No wonder this Angel was crazy about him.

He walked gently into Vegeta's room, lying him down effortlessly on to the canopy bed, wrapping the covers over him. He noticed that the Demon's large, burgundy lips were still tainted a slight purple and shivered from obvious cold. He laid his hand atop the creature's forehead, nodding to himself before kneeling on the floor.

^^^^^^^^^

Bulma was having increasing difficulty in walking, cursing the fact that each step chose to rock back and forth beneath her foot. Her head was throbbing and her temples felt the need to pressurize almost to the point she thought they would bust. And so.. forgetting the need to remain dignified, she crouched unto the floor, basically crawling to Vegeta's room.

She approached the cold presence to find Radditz kneeling on the floor, kissing Vegeta's hand while whispering a prayer in a guttural language. No doubt he was asking for forgiveness and deliverance for his King.

'So..' she thought with a light smirk. 'Demon's have a secret language as well.'

Ending his plea, he got to his feet, appearing his noble, contained self once more. Being a gentleman, he grasped the Princess's hand and gently as he could fathom, led her to the bed, gesturing for her to get in. She tried to hide her obvious embarrassment with a dull façade of confusion and misunderstanding.

"The King is running a high fever." He explained calmly, but a strange glint gleaming in his onyx eyes.

"He needs to be kept warm Princess." He smiled warmly at her, the glimmer ever more present.

"So? What does that have to do with me?" She almost snapped, catching herself in the last moment so as to not awaken the sleeping Devil. Radditz rolled his eyes, snatching her off the ground and leisurely tossing her onto the bed.

"Your body heat should suffice I imagine." He chuckled only slightly. Her cheeks burned with flushing embarrassment before she realized he was quite serious. Not that she REALLY minded. Vegeta's body was hot, though his aura freezing cold. He was quite snuggly and her care for his physical condition was enough to silence her biting tongue.

She noticed Radditz grin and devilishly glance at her throat. Self consciously, she covered her hand over the stinging wound, only wincing slightly from the burning sensation that followed as a direct result. But Radditz only grinned more and winked at her warmly.

"Besides.." He chuckled light heartedly. "I believe your Vegeta will not mind awakening to the creature who saved his life." With that.. and nothing more, Radditz left her and the room, without so much as a backwards glance. Of course, she hadn't been able to see the bright smile that graced his handsome face or the look of respect that he had given her.

And so.. Bulma was left alone with the man she had just nearly given her life for. Amazing herself once more by the wholesome appearance he would forever hold. Even near death.. he was so unmistakably beautiful. She cursed her rebellious fingertips as the moved along his impressive jaw line, seemingly of their own accord. Gently, she traced his well sculpted face, tailing over his lips and chin. She scanned his cheek bones, admiring their strength with delicate fingertips.

It was hard to believe that this beautiful creature had caused more deaths than any being alive. And now she had saved him. Great.

She remembered with haunting clarity, the day she had awoken in Draco's arms, being carried stealthily through Hell. She could even recall the faces of lost souls, begging to be released. She'd not only betrayed who and what she was.. she'd betrayed them.. She'd only tightened the bearings on their chains.

But she refused to listen to regret. What was done was done. And truth be told, she would inwardly admit that had she been able to go back. she'd have done it anyway. So there was the truth and fuck anyone who didn't like it. She cared for him. Damn it she cared for him! She didn't even think he felt the same way. No doubt he didn't.. but who gave a shit? His inability to retaliate her affections for him didn't make her's any less intense. She cared for him and that much could not be denied or erased simply because someone didn't like it or he could not respond. She had no control over the machinations of her own heart. It would do and feel as it pleased.

And so.. with no regrets, she wrapped her arm timidly around his waist, moving close enough so that her cold nose was pressing against his warm cheek. He twitched only slightly, an action that sent small waves of amusement through her. He was alive.

She sighed.

He was alive.

Chapter 28

"WHAT!!!!!!?????" Draco screamed, his unnecessary holler rocking the stone walls of the cave. He had been forced to dwell in the ridiculous tavern, and though at one point it had only been a temporary arrangement, declarations from Akasha were quickly dimming his hope of ever being freed from the dismal shelter. It was his hiding place at one point.. . Now his home?

Never.

"He still lives!?" He gasped, breaths coming in and out like fire. Veins protruded out of his temples, and still he refused to calm down, pacing back and forth in an insane fashion. Akasha glanced upwards, meeting his eyes in minuet humor.

The dark creature was so like his brother. Impetuous, rowdy, ultimately reckless in every sense of the word. It was for these reasons she adored the two. Their differences were based soley on appearance. For Vegeta retained his mothers absolute beauty and indifference, Draco was a more masculine like his father. She realized of course, that Vegeta appeared from afar his father reincarnated, but she knew him well enough to see the strong resemblance he held from Sasha. The blasted Queen of the