CHAPTER 7 Hybrid

~~Adult content ahead~~

1812, Louisiana...

Anjael was tired as she landed back at Coven Orleans, Claude was not in his room despite it being before sunset, so she went to her room, bathed and went to sleep. A servant woke her when it was dark, and she dressed for the costume party Coven Orleans was having. Claude came in as she finished her hair.

"You look like a statue of Venus I saw in Paris when I was a child," he grinned.

Anjael smiled sadly at him in the mirror. "That statue is my mother's cousin."

Misunderstanding, he responded, "She was a beautiful model."

Before she could correct him, he hugged her from behind and nibbled on her neck. "I wish I could bite you and claim you forever, my darling demoness."

She turned to look at him, dressed as a greek god with drapes of gaudy fabric and woven laurel branches like a birdnest on his head. She almost laughed and told him the real Grecian Devas would never dress that way.

She reached up and untied his 'garment', sliding it down before she licked him from his maleness to his navel in one slow trailing motion. The change in his scent was immediate and so was his body's response. She glanced up at his half-lidded eyes, shimmering scarlet with desire.

"My angel, you will make us late."

"Actually, our tardiness will depend on you." Grinning at him with pearly teeth, Anjael rubbed him causing his hips to jerk against her practiced hands. He groaned and reached for the back of her head as she sucked on him, but her tail and other hand caught his wrists. Popping his head out of her mouth, she blinked up at him. "Don't touch the hair."

She seductively lowered herself to her knees, cupping his balls as she dragged her pearly nails between his legs. Sucking his length slowly, he cursed softly in French, but she continued until his legs quivered. He dug his nails into her dressing table to remain standing as he moaned her name over and over, calling her his angel and professing his love. With the length of him, to the back of her throat, her tongue caressed his tightened balls and squeezed them while her tail rubbed up and down his legs. She scented the change and felt the pulse in the tip so she sunk her claws into his hips as she sucked harder and he cried out in pain and pleasure. His entire frame bucking and twitching then his legs collapsed. She held him in her arms looking down at him with a satisfied smiled. He panted with his eyes closed for several minutes then the grand clock downstairs chimed loudly and music began.

"Just in time," she murmured and kissed him. Licking the sweat from his brow, he smelled and tasted unlike any vampyr she had known or taken as a consort. She enjoyed him immensely, but her inner self wanted to return to having a Lycani consort.

"My angel, marry me and be my queen."

"But I'm already a queen." Laughing, she shook her head. "Get dressed, Lord Jean Claude or you will be late to your own theme party."

He laughed and dressed quickly as she watched, then he held out his hand to her. "Come my queen, we have guests to attend." Rising, she followed him down to the fin-de-siecle party.

/\^^^^/\

There were three more murders during the Fat Tuesday feasts. All during the day. Anjael was tired from not resting. Partying all night and watching all day was wearing even her enhanced metabolism out. She needed to refill her blood supply but she doubted she would find any untainted blood in the entire city and she refused to 'drink' from children. Brother Justus agreed with Elder Wolf's assertion that a hybrid day-walker was responsible for the deaths. It troubled him since Wicce-Vampyri were notoriously dangerous and often arrogant to the point of callous towards those they did not consider to be their equals.

It was only one day until Len began and Anjael was grateful for the last party for forty days. She would have a lot to give up this Lent or she would be saying penitence for the next century. The debauchery rivaled her ancestors' memories of Roma. Her Dutch blue French silk gown rustled as she walked. She hated the stays and crinolines, but it was the fashion this century. In a mirror, she scowled slightly at her dyed hair. Ground and seeped walnut hulls turned it a realistic looking dark brown, but it required constant upkeep. Coven Orleans' pet pug ran up to her and yipped to be picked up. She bent and almost lost the pink fresia blossoms tucked between her breasts. The dog's claw caught in the elaborate silver embroidery for a moment, but she freed him before it snagged the vine and frond design.

"Did you forget your mask, my angel?" Claude grinned at her as his eyes rested on the flowers tucked in her bosom. He was dressed in the same blue with a black devil's mask.

"No, I have it, but Francios needed some attention. He is such a good boy." She stood smiling at him knowingly, "Like another good boy I know."

He kissed her with his mask on. "There is nothing good in me, my angel. I'm the Devil."

"You're not a devil." Giggling she put on her pearly white angel mask with its false halo. "As I'm no angel." Her trite response made him laugh.

At the masquerade, many danced or had sex in the alcoves of the lower level. No one seemed to care with whom they cavorted as they consumed wine and blood. Several females tried to lure Claude away from her, but he rebuffed them as they sat on a chaise watching the party below the balcony.

"You can go with them, you know I don't mind," Anjael announced.

"You are my only desire. Once I control the city, I will make Louisiana my kingdom and you will be my queen." He moved to stand beside where she sat. "I can't wait for your portrait in this dress to be painted. It's my favorite color."

She turned to look at him affectionately then noticed a button missing on his waist coat. The others were a familiar carved bone style. Blinking rapidly, she didn't want to believe it, but then her inner self reminded her that she had never met his mother and he did not smell or taste like the others of his kind. Trying to sound innocent, she asked, "Will your mother be here tonight? I would like to meet her." Hugging him, with her cheek against his chest, she realized the part of his scent which was different was Wicce. She had never thought about that until now.

His scent changed, betraying his intent as he spoke. "My father killed my mother, but not before she escaped with me to Paris and taught me everything she knew. My father came for me when I was twelve."

She exhaled slowly; the realization felt like a punch in the gut. "He killed her like you killed those others, like you plan to kill him and his coven."

Claude chuckled. "I should have known you'd figure it out. You are a succubus after all."

"I didn't figure it out because I am a demon; demons are extinct. My kind made them that way..." The she angrily demanded, "How could you kill so many innocent women?"

Anjael felt his grip tighten around her throat then he jerked suddenly trying to break her neck, but her muscles were already locked, making her physically stronger than he could ever be. Her inner self emerged, growing to nine feet tall as her wings spread out, shredding the beautiful, embroidered gown. Her wings slammed him through a pillar before she leapt after him. His inner shadow emerged showing the predator he was as fire burned around him. Tackling him, they tumbled down the grand stairs to the panicked screams of guests.

"Stop this!" Renoir Le Moyne, the Master of Orleans Coven shouted at his son as his cousin Lord Pierré Le Moyne looked on in confusion. "What in the hell?"

Claude's true self flipped Anjael and she slid across the marble.

Glaring at his father, Claude laughed, "Stop? Like you stopped killing my mother in front of me?"

Leaping with faster than vampiric speed, Anjael got herself between the hybrid and his father. Holding her hand out and spreading her wings, she shielded the Lords Le Moyne from a burst of fire. "Get out," she shouted over her shoulder as she stomped toward Claude. "Get everyone out!" Her toe claws dug into the marble floor to give her traction against the flame blasting against her like a hard wind.

Pierré hollered in French then English for everyone to escape as he and his cousin watched the battling monsters in shock. Humans and Vampyri shouted and screamed as they tried to flee the inferno while Anjael and Claude battled, striking and clawing at each other.

"Stop Claude, I don't want to kill you, but I will."

"Why would you stop me, my fallen angel? My father's arrogance created me so I could overthrow Pierré and his coven and I will after I kill him. Then I will rule New Orleans. We don't need statehood or any of that nonsense. The United States can keep paying fees to access the river and sail to the gulf. My territory will be as rich as some of the old countries in Europe," Claude bragged as he jumped at her, trying to pin her down as she kept herself between him and the Vampyri lords.

She rolled onto her back and flipped them over, pinning him instead. "Why did you kill those innocent girls the way you did? To remind your father of your mother's death or for your own pleasure?" Her wings spread giving her better balance while she subdued him as roof beams cracked and burned above them.

"No," Renoir shook his head in denial then Pierré seized his younger cousin around the waist and dragged him outside as the building burst into flames.

"Humans don't matter, they are no more than cattle." Claude thrashed trying to throw her off as the inferno around them increased. "Just like the dogs. They should all be slaves."

Hearing his hate for two of the species she cared so deeply about, her inner self screeched in rage and dug her claws into his chest as he clawed at her impervious skin. The protection instincts coded into her existence made her act without thought as she ripped out his heart then tore his head off. Looking in the silver mirror on the wall, she saw herself. Covered in blood and surrounded by flames while holding the pieces of her murdered lover, she realized her inner self really was a demoness. She left his corpse to burn in the fire made from profane magic. Walking out onto the porch then down onto the grass as the plantation manor collapsed behind her.

"You should not have done what you did, Orleans Master," her demoness declared in a deep voice. "Your sins have brought this judgement upon you." Stepping forward, she tossed Claude's head and heart on the grass. "I had no choice but to kill your son. He went mad because of what he was and what you did to his mother. He intended to kill or enslave all in Louisiana and sabotage the statehood treaty."

"Was he responsible for the murders?" Pierré demanded as Renoir stared at her in shock.

"Yes. He was the one murdering the innocents of New Orleans." She leveled Renoir with a look.

His shadow emerged to attack her, but her wing shot out and knocked him down then she stepped on his chest with her toe talons digging into his flesh.

"What are you?" Renoir demanded, panting. His claws did nothing as she restrained him.

"I am Queen Wasi of the Western Bibre Cruor Clan."

"What is Cruor?" Renoir ceased struggling because the weight on his chest became so great, he could barely breathe or move.

"She's a fallen one. The judge and executioner of all nonhumans who violate the treaties of peaceful coexistence." Pierré answered for Anjael, in a tone of terrified awe. Pierré gently placed his hand on her foot, the one pressing down on his cousin's chest. "Please, mercy, Queen Wasi. He is the only family I have left after the purges."

"Master of the Le Moyne Coven, I believe you knew my Uncle Ouroboros in the old country." Anjeal watched him swallow then nod. "You should know your cousin intended your death with his gambit to raise a Wicce-Vampyri child. Nonhuman hybrids are forbidden for a reason." Looking back at Renoir, who sat rubbing his chest, Anjael declared, "Your hubris and ambition caused this and if you attempt it again. I will return and remove your heart and head as well." She spread her wings and flew into the night.

Landing in the tower of St. Louis Cathedral, she collapsed with a pained cry. Brother Justus rushed to her.

"It's done... I found the killer... he's dead," she murmured. Her whole body hurt from being bruised and burned even though her flesh appeared unmarred. She never imagined a single mad hybrid could be that strong or could hurt her so badly. She was surprised when the grandson of Elder Wolf appeared and put his arm over her lower fangs.

"Drink and heal, Pale as Clouds. Wicce Justus summoned me to aid you. My tribe is going to take you home."

As she drew the Lycani's blood into her system then drank a healing draught Justus gave her, she wiped her tears and hoped she never had to return to New Orleans. She had begun to love Jean Claude Le Moyne, but in her mind, her demoness snarled that such a treacherous male was unworthy of them as it desired to go back and kill his father.

/\^^^^/\

Modern times... Over the Mediterranean Sea...

A click drew her attention and she rose from her memories to go to the cockpit with a cup of coffee. The rest did her body good, but she felt pensive.

Rick stretched as he woke, Dart was flying the plane. The human looked at the instruments then accepted the cup from her.

"Strong, black, and double sweet, just like you like it, Rick."

Dart announced, "We will be landing in Kos in an hour. It will be dark and there is a boat waiting to take us to Patmos. The Vampyri were expecting us."

"Okay, I'll wake our passengers." Anjael started to walk to the back, but Dart clicked to check her messages. She went to her carry on and pulled out her phone. Ouro messaged her only an hour earlier.

The remaining six vampires from Lake Mead Coven have vanished. I went to speak with them and found only a ransacked manor and the stench of witchcraft. It is the same with the missing packs. They were taken by a group of witches and wolves. The Des Rues elder alpha heir is a Wicce-Lycani hybrid. Do you think they are doing this?

Anjael scowled then texted back. Probably, the Des Rues did offer a bounty for Vampires. We must be cautious. I fear the Nahutl Deva has returned and may be influencing them.

How can you be certain? Was the immediate response.

Scowling, she revealed, Dart and I both smelled its favored incense at the Las Vegas Coven Manor in the room where Marguerite and Evan died.

He replThere are too few of us to take down a Deva unaided.

Anjael could almost hear her uncle's worry from the other side of the world.

She sent him the only two words she could. I know.

~~~~~

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