Of Angels & Daemons – chapter seven:

The chain dragged against his neck, as he strained his bounds. Links clinked softly yet the sound was sharp in his ears, as the chocker chain pulled tight. The daemon snarled and as black dots flashed and danced past his eyes he lowered his head back to the floor.

Sounds, faint and hazy made their soft way through the wood of his box. Angrily he tried bucking and struggling against his chains. They clung and tightened against him, pulling the daemon back down. Muscles strained and then with a growl of anger he slumped back down.

He grunted gently as the chains binding him crushed his chest against the floor. The daemon whined slightly, a faint breathy sound and the chains slackened enough for him to breath.

A faint red glow lit the interior of his cage, as anger stained his eyes a glowing red. His fur was puffed up, thick in his anger and eagerness to fight. He could smell the others, a male, his scent thick and cloying. Challenging. His whole body trembled in the need to sink his teeth into muscle and skin.

The daemon let out a roar, hearing his own challenge echoed around him, as a snarled reply floated to him. Insolent! His eyes flashed and he reared up on his back legs, crashing his chest against his cage. Snarls and growls breaking from him until they were cut off by the tightening of the rope round his neck. He sighed, a soft futile sound and slumped down once again.

His anger was a dull, throbbing, almost painful and his muscles strained with the need to unleash it on something, anything. Almost as if he was understood the chains binding him slackened fully, before being pulled, in a sharp, whipping motion out of his cage. The daemon sat stunned for a second and then with a roar of triumph he surged to his feet, slamming his hind quarters against the cage.

Voices rose around him, hurried, frantic voices and then the front to his cage was opened. The daemon snarled and leapt through the opening. His paws hit hard stone, covered in soiled rushes and he scrambled for his footing, blinking in the sudden light.

Something clanged and the other male crashed past him. The daemon snarled again and then leapt on the males back, his teeth sinking into the others ruff. The male roared and shook him off with quick, sharp movements. His paws scraped out tracks in the rushes as he skidded to a halt. He spun around quickly and then sprung at the male again. The other daemon snarled and backed away far enough for him to land before the other.

Sharp teeth sunk into his side, catching against his ribs as the male jerked and tossed his head. The daemon roared in pain, the sound almost a scream. He pulled away, the sudden movement dislodging his opponent. Silver blood flowed freely from the wound and the daemon whimpered gently.

The male had backed off, vigorously shaking his head from side to side and when he bared his teeth, silver blood dripped from them. The daemon shook his head, puffing out his mane in an obvious challenge to the male.

A tense, wild moment passed and then with a low cry he leapt at the male, his claws raking across his opponent’s hind quarters. The larger daemon snarled and jerked around, moving enough that the others sharp teeth could sink into his throat.

The daemon tossed his head and then releasing the male’s throat, backed off. The male staggered for a second and then fell to the ground on his side, to lie motionless. The daemon snorted slightly, and then padded over to the motionless form, still on his guard in case it was a trick. The male was breathing, only slightly but it annoyed him and he leaned forward to bite into the beast’s neck, to shake his head until its neck broke.

Something barrelled into him and his jaws snapped closed on thin air as he was shoved sideways. He turned slightly to stare, annoyed at the human before him. The mortal was on his knees, cat amber eyes wide as he tried to catch his breath. A cruel mockery of a grin crossed his muzzle and he sprang on the human, one large paw coming to rest on his throat. The human struggled beneath him and the daemon grinned, slumping down so he sat on the man. He bit into the flash of a shoulder, shaking his head slightly, basking in the breathless cries and the beating of his heart as the human shook in terror.

A slight huff of laughter left him and he sunk his teeth into the human’s throat. Warm, salty blood spurted into his mouth and the daemon snarled happily. Around and above him the angry cries of more humans floated to him and he dropped his victim to stare, slightly shocked up at the human’s that surrounded the pit. He roared up at them annoyed at their presence. White faced, wide eyed they gaped open mouth at him.

Below him the human moaned but he ignored it, all his attention fixed on the one face in the sea of them. The one green eyed mortal gazing at him with a mixture of sadness and betrayal. Sharp white pain flashed into his scull, blinding him. Fire raced across his skin and he moaned, watching from behind a hazy white film as his paws twisted into human hands. The pain grew, escalating until it was all he knew, seemed all he had ever known.

Then he was gasping in air, his forehead against the cool floor. The scent of old and new blood rushed through him and Malachi shivered. Sitting up to gaze with hazy eyes at the carnage before him. The daemon’s eyes widened and he clamped a hand across his mouth a nose, horrified.

Tansear was slumped on the ground, his fur stained with silver and red. Guilt hit him and Malachi whimpered slightly, his eyes locked on Rojan. The muse was half propped up against the arenas wall, amber eyes half closed in pain. Thick, red blood ran off his throat, down to stain his shirt. Malachi reached out until his fingers hovered above the muse’s chest, scared to touch him. Rojan’s eyes opened, focusing slowly and then he smiled a slight drawing of his lips. He sighed slightly, as his eyes glazed over. His chest stilled as his body shifted into its first and last form. Large, blood red wings spilling from his back as his hair faded into green.

Malachi whimpered again, scrambling backwards away from the incubus. Panic hit him and he sat numbly for a while, until instinct took over and he crawled for Tansear. His hands threaded into the thick fur and he held his breath, tugging at his master’s power until it flowed out of him and into his friends still form. The daemon gasped awake just as he passed on the last of his energy and sank down, numbly onto Tansear’s chest. He’d let the daemon kill him later.

~*~*~*~

He felt like shit, pure and simple. His head was spinning, eyes burning, and it hurt to breath. The mattress under him was soft, as were the blankets some one had pulled up over him. Malachi sighed softly, they shouldn’t have bothered, wasn’t like he deserved it.

Probably the worst thing about all of this was he didn’t remember, well… he did, but he didn’t at the same time. It was like he had watched a play, it didn’t really happen, and yet it had. Great, now it didn’t even make sense to him!

Frustration was building and he frowned, eyes still clamped tightly shut. Warm and wet, water dropping onto his face and he opened his eyes in surprise. Makoto was curled up beside him, soft tears rolling from his eyes. Malachi moaned and turned away, couldn’t stand to watch, to face him. A warm hand o his shoulder and the daemon started away, startled.

“Please Mals don’t. I’ve already lost one friend today.” Makoto’s voice was soft and small and… desolate. The muse’s face was wet, eyes wide and black. A crocked smile twisted his lips.

“You mad at me?”

“Na, mad at the fucking mortals.” The muse shook his head ruefully. “Turns out they drug up daemon’s for a sport. Something about resurfacing the beast part. Eh, to tell the truth, it didn’t make much sense to me.”

“Still doesn’t excuse it.”

“No it doesn’t. Doesn’t mean you’re to blame though. Face it.” Makoto paused, chewing on a lock of hair as he thought. “If I were you, I’d accept it and then go and find the damn angel. Cause you can’t do anything bout this, but you can do something about what you did to him.” The muse’s eyes were still stormy as eh locked them with Malachi’s. The daemon stared.

“I didn’t-“

“Yeah you did, you may not think it but you did. Ah… He’s a angel Mals, that’s the whole point. You killed before him, granted you weren’t you at the time but he can’t understand that. Look… you need to explain… and you need to redeem yourself in his eyes. Cause you’re going to lose him if you don’t.” Makoto smiled sadly at him and then stood up, smoothing out his shirt self-consciously. “You’ll be alright Malachi. Now though, I’ve got to go find Tansear… need to ask hi something.”

Then he was gone, dashing out the room as if he couldn’t stand to be there anymore. It’s didn’t really surprise the daemon, he was used to Makoto by now. Still… he sat shocked for a while, surely Dazriel couldn’t think he done it on intention? Could he? Oh shit.

It’s remarkable how fast a daemon on all four paws can run; unfortunately it doesn’t do anything for their sense of direction. Dread filling him, Malachi ran through the corridors, ears set back and his tail between his legs. It took him a while to realise the stupidity of his actions and he cringed in embarrassment.

Pain exploded as he rain head first into a near by wall. Malachi yelped and sat down sharply, shifted to human and cradling his head in his hands. He watched bewildered as a blue cat with a white and red flag painted on its side strolled past, singing at the top of its lungs;

“Swing low sweet chariot, coming for to carry me home…!”* The daemon gaped after it and then glanced up quickly; half expecting to have green birds flying round his head. Fortunately though, it seemed it was their day off and seeing as how the cat had now disappeared, he judged it safe to reach out down their bond and find the lords be damned angel.

After that it was relatively easy to find Dazriel’s rooms but he hesitated outside them, shifting restlessly. Gathering up his courage Malachi pushed his head against the heavy door. It creaked open at the second try and he padded, cautiously into the room.

Dazriel was curled up on the bed, his back to the door. A young boy sat at the end of the bed, head resting on his drawn up knees. Large, slightly scared eyes widened still at the sight of him and Malachi shifted quickly, placing a finger against his lips. The kids smile was sincere, both relieved and cautious… and almost sad.

Malachi wasn’t overly fond of kids; he could stand them, in small measures. He was though, almost regularly pestered by the kids living in the palace, most likely because of his own backgrounds. In his experience kids liked playing harmless games, like setting fire to livestock and such, maybe a bit of stalking thrown in for good measure. Something told him this kid wasn’t the type to like stalking, or burning stuff for that matter.

He shifted, suddenly embarrassed and the boy grinned, slipping down of the bed to stroll past him as if he wasn’t there. Malachi twitched, fighting back the urge to pounce on the kid. The door clicked closed behind him and he relaxed. Slightly.

His gaze fell on the angel again and painfully slowly he half crawled, half shuffled towards him. Paused at the bed to gather his wits and then sat up enough so his arms and head could rest, folded on the mattress. It shifted beneath him as Dazriel sat up, turned and looked down at him.

His chest tightened, the angel’s eyes were dull, black, expressionless. Not his at all. Suddenly he felt wretched, evil and… terrible. Swallowing dryly past the lump in his throat he smiled slightly.

“Daz…” He’d meant to explain, be done with it, first things first an all that. It wasn’t working though, how can you explain something you don’t even understand? He glanced down to stare at his hands and then at Dazriel’s soft sigh his head shoot up again. The angel looked… disgusted. Anger and frustration flared inside him and he reached up, grabbed a handful of Dazriel’s shirt and dragged him down for a kiss.

Hating himself even as he did it he pushed at the memories, sending them into the angel’s brain. Dazriel started away, eyes wide and glazed over as he watched. Malachi groaned lightly, reaching up to rub at his eyes, lords he hated sharing memories. It was just plain painful, excessively so.

Dazriel was staring at him again, his eyes large, wet and very green. He chewed at a nail thoughtfully and then reached out to place a still shaking hand on Malachi’s head, stroking through the short black hair. Malachi smiled, clambering up onto the bed at the soft tug to his hair. He pulled him into a hug and found his arms full of suddenly hysterical angel. Guilt hit him and he hushed him, rocking the angel desperately. Water works were not high on his list of good things.

“Oh Daz don’t.” He hugged the angel tighter, suddenly feeling hysterical himself. On hindsight, maybe sharing blood memories with an angel wasn’t a good idea. By the time he finally pulled away from the angle, the sleeve of his shirt was soaked and the sun had set.

He curled up behind the angel, gazing at the stars thoughtfully. Dazriel was a warm, soft form against his stomach and his bonded was still in his arms.

“You know,” Malachi started conversationally. “When Nen and I were young, this muse came to the palace. This human woman who used to help Master look after us had died a while back and we were still sad about it. Anyway, the muse obviously picked up on it cause I remember him bumping into me outside, and he pointed up at the stars and told me that whenever someone died they became a star. Watched over you from up there. Well it’s a silly idea nowadays but I believed it back then, even told Delaren and all he did was laugh and hug me. Like I said it was a silly idea.”

“Beautiful though.” Dazriel murmured back to him.

“Yeah…” They fell back into a comfortable silence again and after a while Malachi realized the angel had fallen asleep again, smiling to himself he shifted. Resting Dazriel on his back and he curled up over him, his head resting against his bonded’s chest, relaxing himself to the dull, repetitive beat of the angels heart.

He must have fallen asleep; the waking world didn’t have fluffy pink clouds in it. Not that he was complaining or anything. Growling happily he batted one of the clouds with his paw, wiggling joyfully as it scooted off. The daemon bounded after it, muscles stretching to just before pain. It felt good and right. The ground beneath his feet came to a halt abruptly and a lake of turquoise and emerald stretched out beyond him.

Malachi grinned and shifting in mid air, leapt in. The water was warm and clear and enjoying himself he swam deeper. A sweet song struck up and curiosity begged he follow the sound. He did so happily, enjoying the sluggish movements of his limbs in the water.

Small, bright fish darted about him and he twisted in the water, laughter escaping in colourful bubbles of air. The daemon grinned and then helplessly turned back to following the song. He was starting to feel foolish when he came across it. A small mother of pearl box, the lid engraved with a twisting mass of undecipherable runes. Malachi shrugged and flipped the lid open. All things considered he should have known better.

A spiral of light floated out of it and then the water around him stained itself blood red. The box shook violently in his hands and startled he dropped it. Light exploded and a figure sprang out of the box, large red bat wings curled from its back, green hair floated, spectre like around its face and amber cat eyes gazed angrily at him.

Malachi yelped, his breath leaving him in another flow of bubbles, these sinister and black. The daemon scrambled backwards, and the apparition followed him, its eyes rolling. It raised a long black blade above its head and then plunged it down into Malachi’s chest.

The scream ripped out of him, startling him awake. Still the pain washed through him and he gasped, rolling away from the struggling angel, to clutch at his chest. Gradually it eased as his body healed itself, and when he took his hands away they were slick with silver blood.

A soft, warm hand pressed against his chest, ghosting over it in search of wounds. Dazriel eyes were wide and his face pale.

“Mals?” The angels voice was soft as he pressed up against him. Malachi smiled and gave him a half hearted hug, his mind else where. Reluctantly he pulled away.

“I’ve got to go.”

“W...wha?”

“There’s something I’ve got to do… something important.”

“Like what!” Dazriel was annoyed, frowning sweetly. Malachi gave a huff of laugher, and reached out to run a finger absentmindedly down the angel’s cheek.

“Just anywhere, somewhere wild. I need to apologise.” He caught Dazriel’s stubborn look from the corner of his eye. “It’s a daemon thing. I killed, now I need to make up for it.”

Flashing green eyes glared at him and he couldn’t help but give into the chuckle that left him, Dazriel really was cute when he was mad. At the slightly hurt expression on his bonded’s face his humour died and he lunged forward, grabbing the angel into a hug.

“What am I going to do with you ay?” He sighed, watching as Dazriel rubbed his face up against him, like a kitten. “Look, you’re better off have Tansear or Jarene explain this to you, I’m not good with words. I can’t even think of how to explain something that’s built into instinct.”

“Can you try?”

“I… maybe.” He paused, thinking. “Rojan was a friend, and despite all my wishes I killed him, no don’t interrupt. Look…I feel guilt even if it’s not entirely my fault; it’s still his blood that was on my fur. I feel guilty for it, and so there’s this bit inside me, the bit that takes over when I hunt… and its mad at me for it. So it well… for lack of a better word it punishes me and because it’s a primal instinct driven part it hurts me.” He paused for a deep breath, to turn his head so he could watch Dazriel’s eyes. Already wide. “Anyway… I need to apologise, not just to Rojan, I already know he knows… but also to that part inside me… and I guess to the universe in general. It’s just something I have to do.”

The angels eyes were soft, calm and deep down within them, yeah, there it was, understanding. Malachi smiled again and leaned down to kiss his angel.

“I love you, you know that right?”

“Yeah, I know. You’re going to leave weather I want you to or not aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be… but can you do me one thing?”

“Sure pet.”

“Don’t leave until I fall asleep? I like it when the last thing I see is you.” Malachi laughed and curled up against the angel.

“Silly!” Dazriel’s body radiated warmth, and the soft puff’s of breath against the daemons collar bone were pleasant in their selves. He smiled and nuzzled down; throwing an arm across his bonded’s shoulders.

The angel fell asleep relatively quickly, fighting it the whole way too. Malachi smiled, watching his bonded as he slept, his hair curling about them like tendrils of gold sun. Ruefully he lent forward to drop a kiss on Dazriel’s forehead, then sat up, sliding carefully off the bed.

The stone floor was cold on his hands and he stood up quickly, leaving as quietly as he had come. Spluttering, yellow oil lamps lit the walls now and the daemon wrinkled his nose at the smell of them. He picked up his pace, thinking longingly of the fresh air outside.

Large wooden doors loomed before him and the daemon grinned, about time. The air outside was crisp and full of scents, pleasant. Shadows cast dark patches in the night time courtyard. On the edges of his hearing he could just about make out the chatter of humans.

Autumn leaves crunched under his boots, playing out their own songs. Malachi paused, bending back his head to listen, absorbed as the leaves rustled against his trousers. Crickets chirped in the bushes and he gurgle of a small stream rushed past him. He loved the night noises. The hisses and growls of a cat fight, the clip of a late night horse on the roads.

The daemon shook his head and then shifting forms dropped down into the leaves and padded off. The country side around the town was devoid of life. He shivered slightly at that and then jumping into a run, mad his way deeper into the wilderness.

It felt good to run like that, to not have to worry about being caught, or being late for something, to just run. His paws beat a rhythm on the hard ground and he stretched his neck out, relishing the whistle of the wind past his ears.

Eventually the place felt right under his paws, smelt good to him and he stopped. He shifted back and then sat down on the ground. Slowly he undid the buttons on his shirt, pulling the soft fabric off and bundling it into a ball and stowing it under a tree root carefully. He paused for a second, breathing in deep through his mouth to calm himself before pulling off his trousers.

The night clung to his flesh as he settled back down n the ground. Swallowing worriedly, he shifted just enough for his fingernails to become sharp and pointed. The daemon breathed out, shutting down his brain and relying on instinct to get him through this.

His head dropped limply and when he lifted it again his eyes were glowing, lighting the country side up slightly, washing the ground in blood, or so it seemed. He smiled cruelly, a glint of sharp white teeth and then moving quickly, dragged a claw down his chest. Splitting the flesh from his throat down to his navel. A rough cry broke from him but he didn’t pause, dragging sharp claws up both his legs, from the ankle to his thigh. A tiny pause as he figured out the best way to do it and then he dragged a claw across his wrist, left then right. Then silvery stained hands rose to drag a claw across his throat. Not enough to kill, but deep enough to draw blood and for it to seriously hurt.

He threw back his head, howling out in the old tong, his hands tracing daemon runes on the sheen of silver blood coating his flesh. The words tumbled from him, strange and exotic to his ears, instinct drawn for even though he knew the words he spoke he didn’t understand them.

Green light washed over him and the earth at his feet split. He rolled his head back to watch, still chanting the words, eyes still glowing. Something crawled out of the earth before him, amber cat eyes glowing. Rojan smiled at him, a evil curling of his lips.

A shiver ran through the daemon as the muse moved closer, making his way to crouch over Malachi. A hand grabbed his hair roughly, jerking the daemons head to the side as Rojan sunk sharp teeth into his throat.

It barely took a minute, though it seemed longer, seemed the fire had ravaged through his veins for far longer then that, seemed his body had shook with the agony for longer. Rojan’s face was next to him, his eyes locked with the daemons. A faint smile curving the edges of his lips he nodded slightly and the burst into a cloud of green sparks, that faded out in the night air.

Malachi sighed and slumped back down onto the ground. Sapped of all energy he sent out a small thought of command and then fell asleep even as his body complied with his wishes and healed the wounds.

~*~*~*~

A cold, wet nose thrust into ones face first thing in the morning does nothing to improve ones mood. Malachi growled and snapped useless human teeth at his assailant. Sending the daemon into hysterics, annoyingly female hysterics.

“Oh shut up Jarene.” He sat up gingerly, stiff from sleeping on the cold ground. The daemoness shifted back and sat there still giggling. Malachi shifted, suddenly acutely aware of his nudity. He tried glaring at his friend for good measure but she simply stuck her tongue out at him, giggled again and reached out to poke him in the stomach.

Eyeing the daemoness evilly he crawled over to the tree he’d stashed his clothes under, pulling them on with hast. He couldn’t care less about the silver blood still dry on his skin. Clothed, he felt slightly less venerable, Jarene still freaked him out but somehow he figured that was probably the candyfloss eyes, damn freaky those things. He stretched trying slightly to ease the ache in his muscles.

“Won’t work Mals, you gotta take a hot bath for that.” Jarene grinned at him cheekily and huffing at her in annoyance Malachi shifted, starting back to the castle. He stopped and glanced back.

“You coming?” He blinked, spun around and then shook his head. No Jarene. Malachi muttered something, mainly concerning lords be damned dragons and unspeakable horrors.

“I should bloody well just hand the pair over to Tansear.” Muttering and growling under his breath he padded back towards the castle. With out the veil of darkness covering it the land was pitiful. Tainted by humans… and now by his own magic. The daemon growled and started into a loping run, clearing his head. His paws hit the cobble stones of the town before he realized it and he slowed to a slightly more dignified stalk. Around him humans squeaked, jumped into the air and pointed. He ignored them, more involved with the thought of finding Dazriel then any human worries.

The angel wasn’t in his room, a human was though. Malachi frowned and padded up to it, sniffing curiously. Strange, didn’t smell like a human. He shifted and stood looking at the man before him.

Fire red hair and bronze eyes, very think, like he’d been starved not long before. Timid, very much so, he’d shrunk back the second Malachi had looked at him. A soft, silk collar around his neck, blue merged with purple. Makoto’s colours.

The daemon cocked his head and leaned forward again, sniffing at the man’s neck, where scent was strongest. Defiantly not human… he reached out, placed a finger on the man’s lip and pushed it up carefully. Revealing the long, sharp canines. He grinned, ok, a Karangen… a… what was it? Oh yes, Vampire. Cute too.

“What’s with the collar? Makoto isn’t into slaves.”

“It’s to stop them killing me.” Soft voice, barely a whisper… real cute. Right, defiantly going to like this one.

“Heh, well if the way they treat you is anything like the way they treat daemon’s round here, I’m not surprised you jump at shadows.” It was rather hard to make you voice smooth and calming when it was naturally harsh. The vamp seemed to catch the note of kindness in it though, or perhaps it was the not being human bit that did it. No matter, the vamp seemed more at ease, and a faint smile twisted his lips.

“No, they treat us worse.” Less cautious now the vamp had moved to sit on the bed, feet tucked under him. Smiling friendly Malachi settled down beside him.

“I’m Malachi, by the way.”

“Ruben.”

“Right… so what you doing here Ruben?”

“Master bought me.” Ruben’s hand darted to the collar around his neck, running a finger over it unthinkingly. Malachi smiled.

“Ah, so you’re another of Makoto’s kittens then. This is becoming a habit.”

“Kittens?”

“Eh.” The daemon shrugged. “Koto’s got a way of taking in strays. Course it helps if the kitten’s cute as well.” He grinned at the vamps startled expression and then lent back to gaze wistfully out the window at the sky. “Erm… what time would you say it is?” Ruben blinked owlishly at him and then tilted his own head back to look.

“Around noon I’d say.”

“Oh… so Daz would be where? At lunch?”

“Yes.”

“Right… any chance of you showing me where that might be?” He grinned sheepishly, wrinkling his nose at the quick, amused shake of Ruben’s head.

“As you wish.” The vamp stood up, and walked off, leaving Malachi to scramble off the bed and hurry after him.

Ruben moved through the corridors of the castle with a curious mixture of caution and flat on your arse fear. He was quick, and extremely good at hiding, as the daemon found out after having him disappear into the corners and shadows on him time after time. He went out of his way to take the routes where he wouldn’t meet anybody and Malachi had a sneaking suspicion that half the tunnels they went down weren’t known of by anybody else.

Still it was amusing to watch him and Ruben did get him to the great hall eventually. The vamp hesitated at the door though and it took Malachi grabbing him in a vice grip and practically dragging him to get him in.

“Don’t worry, you’re with me and anyone who tries anything funny‘ll have me to deal with.” Ruben shot him a look that said plainly, that he wasn’t sure that was a good thing. The daemon ignored it pointedly, as he did the dark glares and snarls being shot at them.

His angel sat at what appeared to be the main table, Makoto next to him. Their backs were to them but Dazriel twisted in his seat before they were half way across the hall, grinning happily and practically wiggling in his seat. There was something about having a person that happy to see you that made you feel extremely cherished, not that he was complaining or anything.

“Hey beautiful.” Smiling foolishly himself he wrapped his arms about the angel, dropping a quick kiss onto his lips. Dazriel laughed and purred gently, reaching up to return the hug as best he could.

“Do you want something to eat?” The angels head cocked quizzically and Malachi glanced up at the food spread on the table. Most of it seemed to consist of pastes and bread, a few vegetables here and there but still. He shook his head, when you can’t taste food, you get very involved in the texture of it, and slush was not his idea of a good meal.

He rested his head on Dazriel’s shoulder, glancing from beneath lowered lashes at the faces surrounding the table. A group of mindless simpletons, obviously the lords and dukes, gaping, wide mouthed at the two of them. A regally dressed man, who was watching them with a mixture of curiosity and fascination. A woman, obviously his wife, and if there clothes were anything to go by they were probably the royals in this castle… and the kid. Still looking as obnoxious and spoilt as ever.

Right now he wasn’t on speaking terms with any of the humans in this castle and he ignored them pointedly. Dazriel obviously felt the anger radiating off him because the angel stood up quickly and coaxed him from the room.

“Are you alright Mals?” He asked as they walked back through the corridors.

“Yeah, there was just something about those humans that I didn’t like.”

“And… you’re not going to be running off again for a while? I missed you awfully this morning.”

“I’m not going anywhere Daz.”

“Good.” The angel leaned against him happily, hands curled about the daemons chest. Grinning wickedly Malachi grabbed at him, boosting Dazriel up so he rested in his arms. The angel laughed gently and nuzzled at his neck.

“Love you.”

“Love you too pet.” He glared at the door to the angel’s room when he got there and it swung open before him sheepishly. “Lords be damned, you don’t half weigh a lot do you?” He teased lightly.

Still grinning he dropped Dazriel down on the bed only to have the angel cling to his shirt and pull him down too. A darting kiss on his lips and then Dazriel gazed at him coyly. He smiled and then leaned forward.

~*~*~*~

The beat of his angels heart at night was comforting, his very own had fallen I tune with it. Malachi smiled and curled in more around him. Dazriel really was sweet when he was asleep. A happy sigh and he settled down to sleep, watching as the sun set, golden orange in the night sky.

***

*Come on can you blame me? We did win you know :P Go England!

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