30. Hellfire

The horde milled about, listless without easily available targets, and Angel strode through the mass of bodies, the horde parting for him without a word spoken.

Angel stood on the bloody ground, the stink of death and rotten blood noxious and cloying. An enforcer lay sobbing quietly on the ground under Angel's shield, one of three meant to be sacrificed by their peers. The young man was covered in blood and yet appeared to be uninjured—physically at least. Angel had no idea what he was enduring mentally. Perhaps feeling the sting of betrayal?

Angel sent a wordless command to the horde, which silenced instantly. He spoke to the enforcer. "You can get up now. They won't eat you."

The young man jerked and gazed up at Angel in suspicion and terror. Blood was smeared across his face from the wet ground. "Please don't kill me," he begged softly, his accent placing him from somewhere in Eastern Europe, but Angel didn't have the patience or the ear to sort out where exactly. "I was following orders."

"Orders to sacrifice living humans to make golems, perhaps?"

The enforcer looked around him through the glimmering shield, eyes on the zombies who stared at him with singular focus. He swallowed loudly. "He chose to sacrifice anyone who objected to his plans. He is evil."

Angel had an idea who he meant but he wanted to hear it out loud. "Who?"

"Monsieur de la Roche."

"The people he had killed to make the golems were enforcers who objected to what, exactly?"

"Blood magic," the enforcer spat out. "Abomination!"

Yet this one was free until almost the very end of the battle—his objections came too late to help others. Angel, however, wasn't in the headspace for more cold-blooded killing and he made a decision.

"Leave Boston—and go anywhere, I don't care—or I let my zombies have a snack."

"What?" he stammered, flinching.

"Leave Boston forever, or die."

The zombies around them growled low as one, a wall of sound at the prospect of living flesh. The enforcer cried out in terror and covered his head with his hands. "I will leave! I will leave!"

"Good," Angel said, and the zombies quieted. "You're gonna hang out right here while I talk to the other survivors. Don't be stupid."

He said nothing, merely nodded frantically and huddled under Angel's shield, terrified.

Things went quickly after that. Angel spoke to each survivor of the fight—two who surrendered before Angel called the zombies, knocked out by Ignacio's spell, which he lifted quickly when asked, and three who were meant to be the second round of golem sacrifices. Five in total, and all five chose to leave Boston.

He sequestered them off to the side, under guard by a recovered Scylla and Jameson, along with Remi, while he gathered his minions in the center of the field, away from anything more flammable than some low shrubs. The grass was green and the ground damp from the night air, so the risk of fire spreading was low.

Destroying naturally occurring zombies was something he'd never done before and he was interested in the process, but not at the moment—Isaac was still injured, and while Rory was healing him, it was slow going, and Angel wanted to be with his brother.

"Simeon, keep everyone back by the house," Angel asked, and his mate guided the enforcers out of the way, the werewolves and Remi watching them intently for any stupidity on their parts. His family and clan mates stayed by the doors, Isaac bracketed by Constans and Rory.

The mourning fire spell came to mind, but it was a dangerous spell to use near his loved ones—it consumed the death magics inherently found in the bodies of the deceased, reducing them wholly to ash in minutes. Cremation was the standard for supernatural beings, to prevent the harvesting of their bodies for varied nefarious reasons, and the mourning fire spell was devised to make burials as final and efficient as possible.

It also ran through the sentient undead like wildfire. Vampires were especially susceptible, as they were naught but primordial death magics, and the mourning fire spell consumed them like kindling.

That was an image he knew well and it sickened him to even think about using the spell near his loved ones. It was a risk he didn't want to take.

This time then, hellfire was the answer. It burned, or not, according to his will, and Angel followed through on his promise to Cian to destroy the zombies under his control—an inferno of green hellfire rose with barely a thought, and Angel stood sentinel over the conflagration on the front lawn of his familial home.

The rarer zombies were still within the pit in the underhill swamp—Angel had no way to reach them nor did he want to try such a risky maneuver— he would deal with them another day. He wanted this night to be over and to return to his brother. Isaac was what was important.

The wind caught green embers and the pile of ash continued to grow as the zombies all succumbed to his flames. He mentally stamped out the embers that escaped, snuffing them before they could spread, determined to keep the hellfire where it was needed. The air was full of the scent of burning dead things, and he breathed shallowly, not wanting to inhale too much of the smell.

By the time he finished, the zombies were gone, the death magics that animated them all released into the ambient magic fields, and Angel mentally gathered it all up, siphoning it into the bond he shared with Simeon, sending the excess magics into the unending well of primordial death magic. There it was absorbed without a ripple, the magics paltry in comparison to the depth and breadth of that impossible well of death.

Angel was upstairs with Isaac, keeping his brother company. Simeon directed the bloodclan soldiers on their duties—getting the captive enforcers to the local airfield with tickets out of town to anywhere they wanted to go.

"Buy them a ticket to wherever they want to go, and make sure they get on the planes and take off before you leave. They've promised to behave," Simeon said that last bit to the enforcers, who all nodded in agreement at his words, looking properly browbeaten and defeated. "If they get violent or try to escape, kill them."

The enforcers went pale in fear and Simeon was glad the message was received. He wanted no more issues for the night.

The enforcers left with a contingent of bloodclan soldiers as their keepers, and Simeon watched until they were gone from sight down the access road.

The wards were restored completely, the hole made by the golem repaired by Ignacio while Angel was with Isaac. Scylla and Remi patrolled the estate, looking for stragglers or anyone who might have snuck inside while Angel was dealing with the zombie army. Constans was with Angel and Isaac, keeping vigil.

The Brennan twins and Daniel had retreated to the conservatory for the remainder of the night, Eroch with them, the dragon exhausted and already asleep in Cian's arms.

Of those kept safe in the temple, Celyn was asleep upstairs in a guest room, awaiting his new mate. Leo and Ashwin were with Ignacio in the suite that once belonged to Angel's parents, sleeping, the little family reunited and safe. Rael was with his mate, Jameson, back in Beacon Hill. Most of the enforcers that had come to Boston were dead—the Grand Master would need to rebuild his forces before he made another move, and Simeon and Angel had determined it was safe to return to the townhouse.

Scylla would be joining her family in Beacon Hill once she was sure the grounds were clear—Cian was going to take up watch once she and Remi finished, the sidhe more than capable of monitoring the whole of the estate while everyone slept.

Milly was in Beacon Hill already, hopefully sleeping in one of their guest rooms. She was exhausted, like they all were. Simeon didn't feel tired like a mortal would, but he was drained from the long fight and needed his mate in his arms.

Simeon shut the front doors, locking them. Remi and Scylla would come through the kitchen door when they were done. The portal in the library would take Scylla to Beacon Hill once she was ready to go.

Simeon went upstairs, the house quiet but for the light sounds of breathing and hearts beating in slumber. It was a calming sound, one he enjoyed—far better than the large pockets of silence to be found in the Tower. The heartbeats were the sound of life.

Isaac was back in his old childhood room, since Daniel had moved out and into the conservatory with his husband. Isaac was asleep in the bed, Constans lying beside him atop the covers, awake and staring at his mate. Angel sat in a chair beside the bed on Isaac's other side.

"How is he?" Simeon whispered, joining Angel, putting a hand on his tense shoulder and rubbing, hoping to soothe. Angel relaxed a smidge at the touch.

"Rory put him under to give him a break from the pain," Angel replied. "He stopped the blood magic, but Isaac is gonna be sore until Rory can heal him again. Rory had to stop as it was too painful for Isaac. Healing Isaac took a lot out of Rory, too, so they're both taking a break until tomorrow."

There was a long wound much like acid, from the top of Isaac's head on his left side, down his face and throat, and his chest was bare, revealing his tattoos and the wide track where the tentacle hit him, leaving behind an ooze that ate away at his flesh down his torso to his hip. It was a grievous wound.

"A wise course of action," Simeon replied softly, not wanting to disturb the slumbering young man. "Your blood, Master? Can it help?"

"It's working now, but slowly." Constans replied. "His injury was far worse than this—Rory won't have much left to heal tomorrow. Hopefully Isaac will awaken fully healed. It was hard to get him to drink my blood—he was in agony."

"Do not blame yourselves for what happened," Simeon told them both. "The golem is destroyed and Isaac lives."

"Let's go home," Angel said softly. "You'll call me if anything changes? I'll be back before Rory is due to heal him again."

"I will call you," Constantine replied just as quietly. "Goodnight, Angel."

"Goodnight…Connie."

Constantine grimaced at the nickname from Angel, but that was all. He stayed by his mate in vigil, watching Isaac's face for signs of pain or distress.

Simeon nodded once to his master and guided Angel from the room, his mate tired and drained from the long night. An adrenaline crash was incoming.

The wards were intact at the Beacon Hill townhouse after a few minutes of hard work and some patience. He fixed the wards before he went to bed, wishing he hadn't forgotten to repair them when he was less tired from working magic, but they were fixed now so it was of little consequence. The staff was back and tucked in bed, and those who lived out of the townhouse were due back in the morning.

His home was quiet, the wards up and the doors and windows locked, Simeon patrolling the townhouse one last time before coming to bed.

Angel was tired, more mentally and emotionally than physically. His bond with Simeon kept his magical reserves topped off and he hadn't been doing much running around.

He leaned on the wall of the hallway by the linen closet and awaited Scylla. She stepped through the archway, and it returned to a black miasma of nothing. She was dirty from the fights with the golems, but she had recovered quickly from the golem's poisonous ooze, judging by the healthy pallor of her skin and her confident stride.

"You look like death, necromancer," she told him.

"I feel like it too. Wanna stay the night or go to the hotel?"

"I'll crash here and see the boys in the morning before I head out." She paused, hands on her hips. "I'm surprised you went the mercy route with those enforcers."

"Even necromancers get tired of death sometimes."

"Hmm," she gave him a sharp glance from head to toe. "Get to bed with you, you're gonna fall on your ass."

Angel smiled at the mothering. "Yes, ma'am."

Scylla left him at that, heading up the stairs to the third floor and the guest rooms. Angel heard Simeon checking the front door, and he was reassured that they were safe when his mate came up the stairs a moment later, smiling when he saw Angel waiting by the arch.

"All set, my love?" Simeon asked.

"All set. Time for bed."

The ringing phone woke him not long after dawn, and Angel groaned, fumbling for his phone after rolling off Simeon's chest where he had spent the remainder of the night sleeping. He answered with a muffled "Hello?" after seeing it was not Constans calling with an update about Isaac.

"Necromancer Salvatore," Special Agent Kenzie said. "Did I wake you?"

"The fuck?" Angel groaned, and he checked the time on the screen before putting the phone on Speaker. "Why aren't you in jail or the hospital or something?"

There was a moment of silence, then Kenzie coughed a bit before speaking. "I am calling to apologize for my actions. I was compelled to attack you and your people, and the dead enforcer was killed by the Grand Master to open your wards. I tried to stop him, but I had no control. I am sorry for my actions, though, regardless of my state."

"You've been an asshole the whole time I've known you," Angel declared, and Simeon chuckled, grabbing a pillow and covering his face as he laughed quietly. Angel grinned. "But thanks, I guess."

"I also wanted to thank you for not killing me, even though we both know you could have done so, and easily. I owe you one."

"I'll take you at your word on that favor, Special Agent Kenzie. Anything else? I had a long night."

"Oh, of course. And yes. Regarding that. My superiors want me to convey that the Governor is…concerned. He doesn't want another Blood War to erupt in Boston, and if things get out of hand, he will be forced to intercede with the full power of the state government at his disposal."

Angel cocked a brow at that nicely worded threat, Simeon dropping the pillow and glowering at the phone. "Tell everyone that I won't tolerate anyone coming for me or mine. And they can spend their time and money on kicking the High Council out of Boston. I can't be expected to do everything."

Angel hung up the phone, tossing it to the nightstand where it landed with a solid thunk. He winced, but it appeared to be okay. Angel forgot the phone and crawled back into Simeon's arms, where he got a kiss and a solid embrace.

Angel relaxed as best he could, given his worry about Isaac. He was happy to wake in Simeon's arms, but this time he was anxious to get up and go to the Mansion.

Simeon read his mood with ease. "Shall we get up and shower, see how Isaac fares?"

Angel sighed. "Yeah. Please. I can't go back to sleep."

Simeon gave him a soft kiss and then gently herded him out of bed and into the shower. They'd gotten a handful of hours of sleep in, and Angel looked forward to sleeping more than a few hours at a time in the future. If he needed to go on vacation to get it, he would—despite never going on vacation in his life.

"Huh," Angel murmured as Simeon took great joy in washing him from head to toe with the soap and loofa.

"Mo ghra?"

"I've never been on vacation," Angel told his mate. "I'd like to do that someday. Get some sleep. Have a lot of sex. No one trying to kill us. Eat some fancy food." He frowned. "Someplace not sunny so you can have fun, too."

"Vacation," Simeon mused, soapy hands now cupping Angel's ass and massaging it, making him groan. "I don't think I've ever been on a vacation, either."

"New experience…for us…both." He gasped when a big finger circled his hole and teased the sensitive flesh. "Get the lube."

Simeon chuckled, and his hands disappeared while Angel turned to face the wall, hands up to brace himself, and he waited for Simeon to return, blocking most of the spray with his wide shoulders.

Simeon returned with slick fingers and a single-minded intent to wreck him. Two fingers stretched him open, reaching deep, finding his prostate and massaging the bundle of nerves until Angel shouted his impatience to the ceiling.

Thick and hard, Simeon entered Angel with a swift, sure stroke, stealing his breath. Angel clawed at the tiled wall, pushing back to take more of the delicious pain and the impossible stretch. Teeth bared in a soundless snarl, Simeon wrapped an arm around his waist and held him back against him, beginning a punishing rhythm that stole his breath and thoughts, and a hand came up and gripped his jaw, holding him still as Simeon took his mouth in a deep, devastating kiss.

Angel had nothing to hold onto, and Simeon lifted him off the floor, water cascading down over them, the pleasure building between them, scalding hot and killing him in the best way. The hard cock in his ass was warm from the water and grew hotter the longer it sank into his body over and over, Angel writhing and gasping as Simeon fucked into him. It was the best feeling, being stretched open on Simeon's cock, and he wanted more.

Angel tipped his head to the side, baring his neck, and Simeon struck at the wordless invitation. Fangs found his neck and sank deep, the suction powerful, Simeon drinking deep, as deep as the cock fucking him in short, brutal thrusts, shaking his whole body.

Angel screamed in pleasure, climaxing hard, shooting his release across the wall, the water sweeping it away instantly. Simeon withdrew his fangs and grew harder, impossibly harder in his ass, seated balls-deep, and his mate came in thick, cool spurts that soothed his aching flesh. Simeon roared his climax, a fierce snarl that echoed in the shower, and Angel shivered at the slinky, smooth pleasure that caressed his whole being at the feedback along the mate bond.

Simeon held him in his arms, cum, blood, and water running down the drain, Angel all floaty and sated, his mate licking closed the bite on his neck. The water was cooling, rousing him from the post-coital exhaustion. Simeon gently withdrew from his body, Angel gasping as the water ran over his abused hole, feeling delighted and sore.

Simeon rinsed them both, and gently dried Angel with warmed towels, even drying his hair. He loved to be pampered, something he never knew about himself until Simeon came into his life and offered himself so selflessly. Simeon loved to take care of him, tending to him, whether he was relaxed after sex or tired from a long day of fighting to keep his loved ones safe.

He leaned into the care and love, smiling when Simeon pulled the towel away after drying his hair, the strands falling into his eyes. "I should cut my hair," Angel murmured when Simeon pushed back the strands and ran his fingers through it. It was far longer now than it had been when they first got together, almost two years ago; it would be two years in a couple of months.

"Only if you want to," Simeon replied, letting Angel head to the sink and grab his toothbrush and toothpaste.

Simeon left the bathroom while Angel finished his morning routine and even tried to style his hair, but he gave up at carelessly tousled and shrugged. He didn't care much what his hair did as long as he didn't look ridiculous.

Simeon returned, fully dressed in a smart, dark blue suit, scooping Angel off his feet and carrying him out of the bathroom, heading for their bed. He sat Angel on the side of the bed, gifting him a soft, languid kiss and he left Angel to get dressed as he took his turn in the bathroom.

Angel was just pulling on his shoes when Simeon left the bathroom, hair swept back in an elegant wave off his high forehead, giving him a stylish and distinguished air.

Angel sighed happily. "You're so damn pretty."

Simeon grinned, emerald eyes as bright as his fangs. "Thank you, mo ghra. You're quite lovely yourself."

Dressed and ready to leave, Angel grabbed his wallet, phone, and keys from the nightstand, Simeon doing the same on his side of the bed, and they left their room, heading down the hall to the linen closet archway.

Simeon took his hand when they reached the arch and they stepped through together, thinking of the Mansion, and they exited the arch into the Mansion library after a breathless moment of nothingness.

Cian was waiting for them, Eroch sitting at his feet and leaning on his legs.

"Eroch," Angel hurried forward and knelt in front of his dragon. "How are you? Are you alright after last night? No sickness came up after we left?"

Eroch chirped, but he shook his head and grumbled, making a weird growling sound that made Cian laugh a bit, shaking his head. "Little Trouble is well. He suffered no ill effects from the golem's slime like the wolves and Isaac did. He was fine even after you went home. He's hungry, though."

"Do you still have some of the stag left?" Angel asked, gently scratching under Eroch's chin, the scales there still soft and malleable to the touch.

"I'll get what remains for his breakfast," Cian assured Angel.

"I'll make some bacon while you get the meat for him," Angel said, Eroch all but wiggling in joy at the word.

"Baaaaconnnss."

Angel blinked, shocked, and sat on his ass. "What?" he gasped out.

Eroch tilted his head, jaw working, and he tried again, this time the word coming out with more confidence. "Baconns."

"You spoke English," Angel gasped out, tears in his eyes.

Eroch sat up straight on his haunches and nodded once, yellow eyes wide and curious.

"You said bacon."

"Bacons."

"Well done, kiddo," Angel gasped out, happy and teary and so damn proud. "I am so proud of you."

Eroch tackled him to the floor, chirping and wiggling, Angel laughing and hugging Eroch as best he could with him dancing about in joy.