Eyes Of Crimson : Vampire Paranormal Romance (Transfusion Saga Book 8) Read online

“The Kingdom of Lust.” Naturally, my reply surprised him, making me wonder if even that being said had been given too much away. For he very well knew, as all did, who the King of Lust was connected too.

  Dominic Draven.

  “Now that is interesting,” he mused making me grit my teeth and snap,

  “The only interest in it I want from you is the interest you show in ways of finding what belongs to me, anything other than that is an expelled energy I will not be happy to hear you have wasted.” The moment I said it I knew my mistake for this would only drive him to be more curious, his cunning grin told me this and made the next words out of his mouth a lie.

  “But of course, my Šeš.” So, I took a deep breath and finally made my point, speaking in a way that was, granted, more suited to behind closed doors. But it was imperative that he understood the deeper meaning he would find in just speaking his name aloud,

  “I mean it, Dariush…” I paused, narrowed my gaze and said,

  “Don’t fail me, Brother.”

  10

  Portals and Poets

  I left my brother, no doubt to ponder my words and stew on my reasons given. Again, he wasn’t stupid and could no doubt read between the complicated lines of my being here. But then, deception was no stranger to either of us. For keeping up the ruse of him merely being nothing more than my second in command was a necessary evil in our world. The fact was that we both decided that living this lie was an important element for our combined rule to work as smoothly as it did.

  No one knew about Dariush, other than Keira, for she discovered this during her time travelling trip to the past where she first encountered him. He was without doubt my best kept secret, as this was what we both agreed was for mutual benefit. Hence the reason not even my former King, Dominic, knew of his existence. And as far as I knew, Keira had kept my secret out of respect for my wishes for her to do so. After all, I was her maker.

  Now, at some point I knew that I would have to explain about the history of my brother to Amelia. And well, seeing as we were now in Hell together, then that time would likely be sooner rather than later, after of course I had first found the girl!

  In fact, I had expected one of the first things from her lips after being made to experience my past first-hand was to ask me why I never mentioned him. But then it quickly occurred to me that our joint father had obviously kept his word. Lucifer had, at our request, kept the knowledge of Dariush a secret, and in doing so needed to erase that part of him from my life. This was so that even the Fates weren’t able to make his existence known. Which meant manipulating Lucifer’s first creation, the Keepers of Three. The Fates had deemed them connected to my life, seeing every piece of it as being the ones trusted with the Tree of Souls. But that didn’t mean Lucifer didn’t still have his influence over their mind.

  It was the reason Amelia hadn’t seen Dariush in my memories and until that moment I had never known that Lucifer had in fact kept his end of the bargain. But then again, it wasn’t like this plan wasn’t to Lucifer’s advantage either. Especially not when more than two thousand years later he would use this secret son of his to help him in getting his Chosen One back.

  But secrecy was the key when it came to Dariush, for his power rivalled my own but only when he was in Hell. You see, Lucifer’s goal when creating the perfect being and one intended to rule over the growing problem the Vampire race was creating, was one he achieved in me. But throughout the years I discovered there had been many failures and only two mortals turned successfully. And out of us both, it was only me that was suited to rule, for when Dariush was turned he became something else entirely…

  He was the only one of his kind.

  It was why his existence was such a well-guarded secret. For Lucifer he was the ultimate weapon but for me, well…

  He was my brother.

  But both meant that he could be used against us and even though he was tied to Lucifer by blood, it also meant that he was tied to me in the same way also. It was why, if I chose to be, I could quite easily have become Lucifer’s biggest threat of power. For Dariush not only felt loyalty to both of us but only one of us had the power over his mind. And well, it wasn’t Lucifer as he would have preferred it to be.

  Besides, like I said, we were brothers and that came before being sons of the Devil. We had spent time in the mortal realm together, always doing so under the ruse of him being my second and long before Adam was turned. But then, when we found ourselves constantly being forced back to deal with an entirely different kingdom, we knew things had to change. For it was a usual occurrence, as our realm in Hell couldn’t go long without being dominated under the hand of a ruthless ruler.

  That was when the decision was made for Dariush to take my place. Something that allowed me the freedom to forge my own destiny and eventually pave the way to strengthen my kingdom in the mortal realm. This had been fortunately achieved with great success, much to Dom’s annoyance.

  And speaking of Dominic and annoyances, it was time to go and visit an entirely different ruler…

  The Prince of Lust…Dom’s father.

  Now all I had to hope for was that the portal into his realm was still accessible, or time will have been wasted. For I would simply have no choice but to go back to my castle to seek aid, as one of Dariush’s many talents is he could create a shifter portal to anywhere. His power in being able to summon the doorways seemed endless, creating them both between worlds and the realms they were built up of. It was one of his greatest gifts, whereas others with even the slightest use of the same power could only manage to create a portal a few times a year. This was because the amount of power and energy it took was astounding.

  However, Dariush could create one with little trouble and as I said, he seemingly had an endless amount of energy to offer. But no one knew this, which was why we didn’t exactly abuse the talent…at least not in front of others. For the being with the keys into any place in Hell, Heaven, and everything in between, was a dangerous commodity that others would kill to exploit. But then again, he was Lucifer’s secret weapon, so his talents weren’t surprising to us. And because of this, it was also why I didn’t choose to trust him just yet, for Lucifer would always have that hold on him, being his maker.

  What can I say, other than it was a fucked-up family dynamic if ever there was one!

  Luckily for me however, my worry had been for nothing as the portal that had been created was still intact and wasn’t as unstable as I feared it might be. Because without use, then some of these doorways created just didn’t have enough power to maintain themselves and simply vanished. Portals usually drew from the energy of the beings that used them and a trip to the level of lust was naturally a popular place for most. After all, sex was sex no matter what kind of creature/creation or being of Hell you were. And should its ruler be feeling generous at the time, then he was usually all too willing to oblige those looking for a hardcore version of the act.

  The portal was situated not too far away from my castle and just on the other side of the Echoing Forest, next to a cluster of caves. I could see the energy waves comes from the distorted space of scenery, telling me it was active and from the looks of things, used often.

  I scoffed as I landed the moment a break in the trees would allow, not exactly being surprised by my people’s choice of holiday destination. I took one look at the portal and readied myself for what was ahead, calling forth the rest of my demonic armour that was as natural as allowing my demon to take over my vessel. This included my chest piece and shoulder plating growing until I was completely covered in a hardened black metal. The armour down my arms, legs and feet had already encased my flesh the moment my demon side had erupted back in the Temple. And thank fuck it had because one thing was for sure, there had been no way in Hell I would be stepping through that portal dressed like a fucking tourist and sporting hiking sandals!

  I walked the small distance back to the area I had seen from above and without a moment to waste, walked th
rough the portal, ignoring the slither of stolen energy it consumed. For one such as I, it was barely even noticeable. But for those much weaker, then they would no doubt have felt it enough to require rest once they had arrived. It wasn’t surprising that down here, it was survival of the fittest and power was everything.

  However, one look back as I stepped through and I knew why the portal had been so active…it was like a damn ‘welcome to fuck land’, the sexual playground for supernaturals for God’s sake! I was just surprised it didn’t have writing carved into the arch of bodies that said, ‘Play hard and stay hard longer’.

  “Fuck me,” I muttered with a shake of my head, ignoring the not so subtle arch of bodies that were connected sexually. The dip of a male’s head was mostly hidden by being at the centre of a woman’s legs and framed either side by her thighs. It was as if he had been frozen in time during his sexual meal. The couple looked carved out of wood and then strangely burnt with a blowtorch. The man’s feet and the woman’s hands were also fused against the boards on the dock that also had that blackened charred effect.

  I looked beyond the eternal image of such a sexual act, trying to ignore the memories a sight like this conjured up. Especially when remembering the sweet taste of my own girl’s release on my tongue as I feasted on her.

  Gods, but I missed my girl.

  The calmness of the black river was a contrast to the surrounding sandstorm that raged around the realm and could be seen in the distance. One similar surrounded parts of my own castle and were an effective way to keep not only enemies out but also that of unwelcomed magic.

  I couldn’t help but recite what Dom often did when he mentioned that of his father, and I never understood why until seeing that storm,

  “But to that second circle of sad Hell, where in the gust, the whirlwind, and the flaw of rain and hail-stones, lovers need not tell their sorrows—pale were the sweet lips I saw, pale were the lips I kissed, and fair the form I floated with, about that melancholy storm. …” It was by John Keats, named, ‘A dream after reading Dante’s episode of Paolo And Francesca’. I think it had something to do with the history of his parents as theirs was a tale of forbidden love like no other. The Demon Prince and Archangel were never meant to fall in love and achieve the impossible by creating life. And just like that forbidden love, Dante’s inferno told of the story of Francesca and her brother in law, Paolo, who were both condemned to Hell for adultery. Dante was touched and held sympathy for their condemned love and the cruelty of their death because of it. Francesca was portrayed as being compelled by love and unable to stop it, for the power of the heart is an unrelenting force.

  As for the Prince of Lust, it was said that the storm that surrounds his kingdom began the day his precious Sarah was taken from him and to this day has never once stopped. The power of the heart was an unstoppable force indeed and had the power to affect us all or so it would seem. And now, one glance back up at the colossal castle that overshadowed the town below, and that power most certainly wasn’t in question when it came to its ruler.

  The castle was easily the size of a city itself and a towering mass of black stone carved into giant sentinels. It was said to be built from the underbelly of a volcano that mirrored Mount Merapi in the mortal realm. One which was situated in the centre of the island of Java, Indonesia.

  I ignored the hustle of demonic life that obviously lived in these parts and was clearly used to the sexual references at every turn. Like the giant cocks that the boats were moored to, instead of simple wooden posts for ropes to be wrapped around. This was the same as the erotic statues that I could see dotted in between the wide wooden clad buildings. They seem to be directions of sorts, as protruding body parts looked to be pointing a certain way, while gleaming white signs were held in their hands. The gloominess of the rising mist rolling in from the surface of the water was cut short and faded away the further from the docks I walked. This was thanks to the naked figures that lined the streets and held glass blown lamps in their bound hands. Hands that were tied above their heads, almost like they were being suspended from an invisible beam above. Collars of gleaming gold around their necks and a single chain dipped from one pierced nipple to the other.

  I knew even from looking at them that these were no doubt a mirror image of some of the sexual slaves that could be found within the castle walls. The citizens gave me a wild berth as I stepped further along the dock and onto the black glass cobbled street, that looked like broken pebbles of highly polished flint. My metal boots that were made up of overlapping plates in a sabaton style, clinked against the ground as I walked. Then the second I had the space I stretched out my wingspan and took to the air, making my way quickly towards the castle.

  I didn’t have time for being polite here but then again, I didn’t have the time to fight his sentinels either, so I had no choice but to request an audience with the royal, knowing he would not refuse me. Especially seeing as he loved nothing more than a bit of drama and me being here would most certainly pique his interest.

  I took no time at all finding the entrance, being as it was sandwiched in between two of the largest towers. They were the size of skyscrapers, and at its centre at least fifty carved archways stood, like curved vertical steps. These framed a pair of imposing castle doors of stark white that were big enough to fit my club Transfusion through. Next to this was an outpost of sorts, being an unwelcoming looking building made of spiked turrets. It was a place I chose to land before I demanded to speak with their Lord. I felt a fight coming my way, along with a refusal the second the solider put his hand to the hilt of his weapon.

  I gritted my teeth at the annoyance and forced myself to be diplomatic, telling them who I was before I made my demands. Thankfully, this was enough to get me taken seriously, and shortly after this a royal representative appeared to escort me inside. He was an overly tall and overly thin being, that despite his seven-foot height looked breakable all over. White long hair was braided back from pointed features and beady, keen eyes of yellow.

  “You have arrived at a fortunate time, for my Lord is in the banqueting hall and offers you a great honour in inviting you to sit and dine with him this turn of the sky.” The servant informed me surprising me enough to say,

  “I believed all of those who served the Prince were only to speak ancient Sumerian.” Something I had done moments ago, despite being rusty. But then again, the language was over 5000 years old.

  “Ah yes, well his Maru, and our Enki suggested he…how do I say, get with the times.” I scoffed at this, knowing the words he used were the ancient language for ‘son’ and also the name Enki, ‘Lord of Earth’, was who Dom was known as in these parts.

  After this, talk between us ceased and I didn’t encourage otherwise. After all, I wasn’t exactly here for a social visit, and the moment I was escorted through into what was obviously his banqueting hall, I soon discovered that the Lord of this castle knew it too.

  “Ah King of Blood and Death,” he said prompting me to reply back in return,

  “Asmodeus, Sar Sha Hatti,” I said, calling him the King of Sin as was his preferred title. He eyed me from the top of a long, grand table, one big enough to seat at least fifty people. I also ignored the obvious sexual focal point of the room, being that the table was full of naked bodies all covered in food. No, instead I simply focused on the next barrier that stood in my way.

  I knew this when the King boldly announced,

  “So, you’re the one fucking my granddaughter.”

  11

  Dripping Bound Lust

  After dropping this piece of knowledge like a fucking A-bomb, I was then surprised when it was followed up with him offering me a seat. This instead of trying to rip my head off, stick an apple in my mouth, and add me to his table of fuckery as his new centre piece.

  “Won’t you take a seat,” he offered again with a nod of his head making a servant girl go rushing to pull out my chair. She was wearing nothing but a gold bowtie and a pointless
apron that was see-through. Well, that wasn’t all she was wearing, as the moment she bent over, a glittering butt plug could also be seen. Naturally she decided to make a show of the act, doing so enough to look at me over her shoulder and wink at me when she caught me staring at her ass.

  Had it been a time before my Chosen One I might have taken the time to admire it but as it stood now, she held no interest for me, and my scowl of annoyance told her as much. I therefore took my offered seat briefly noting her disappointment and caring little for it.

  However, Asmodeus clearly did care as he chuckled to himself. Then he flicked his hand through the air as if he was brushing off lint and by doing so telling the girl to silently leave me be. I looked down at the plush red velvet seat in a way that made it obvious how little I wanted to sit down. I didn’t have time to fucking dine at this fucked up table of sex and sin. But then one look at my ‘host’ and I also knew it wasn’t wise to refuse him this unnatural welcome. For an unnatural welcome was exactly what it was, especially considering he obviously knew a lot more than I gave him credit for.

  So, I decided to be honest.

  “I am surprised you offer me one given your last statement,” I said sitting down anyway. Asmodeus threw his head back and laughed, doing so in a way that was unnerving. Although this wasn’t surprising considering who he was, for it wasn’t only his looks that resembled his son. Both were renowned for their tempers and both were hard mother fuckers at that, for I was not the only King in Hell to be labelled as a ‘Tyrant’.

  Of course, looking like an older version of my former King was also playing on my senses. For it was said that he purposely chose to look this way, much to his son’s dismay at refusing to yield and change his appearance. Asmodeus had the power to look however he wished as he was mere steps away from being a God. But then he chose his son’s appearance merely for the fact that it irked him, something that was renowned to be his favourite past time.