Vampire Prisoner

Jonathan smiled as hell rained down upon the wolfs. Most were able to summon protective power as in time, but not all. Some screamed as they burned, and Vampire Prince took a deep breath of satisfaction. There was a muffled sound beside him that had his eyes sliding over towards the vampire clan leader.

Boss didn't appear as happy as the prince had thought he'd be.

"Whatever is the matter?" he asked, his voice light and airy despite the scent of burning flesh that filled his lungs.

Boss lips twisted. "You're playing with them."

There was more than a hint of disgust in the other man's voice, and it was enough to have glowing devil eyes focus entirely on the young Vampire. Boss blinked, his shoulders tensing as he realized that he might have said something to offend the Prince of Vampires.

Jonathan was tempted play with him a bit, but Boss was . . . not unlikeable-even with his rather pedantic and tedious personality. He moved his gaze back to the battle and gave an unconcerned shrug. "They're so predictable, these wolfs-one must derive one's fun from somewhere."

The other vampire apparently didn't know when not to push because his tense voice sounded once more. "We didn't ask you to torture them-"

Jonathan was before him in a fraction of a second, cutting Boss off. His eyes flashed and Boss let out a strangled gasp. "But you did ask for our help all the same." Jonathan said, his tone taking on an otherworldly demonic hiss. "You allowed my father access to this plane to fight this war. What do you even think when you ask for help to a half Vampire and half wizard like me. Do not complain at our methods for winning. My mother is still your Queen, and my father is still a devil son. So, it makes me worse than two."

Man stepped forward then. "The vampire is young, Prince. He still feels a connection to humanity. Do not take his words to heart. We are very grateful that our king came to our aid when we needed you."

Jonathan looked away from Boss and towards the Man, a smile pulling at his features. The help of the devil realm hadn't come free of charge as his grandfather once taught him, of course. Despite what the wolfs believed, Lucifer hadn't been interested in invading the human world-he liked human women too much to release the unrelenting hunger of his demonic armies upon the Earth.

He had less of a problem releasing them into Heaven so long as he was given his tribute. The vampire and other creature populations had been decimated by the sacrifice they'd been forced to make-Immortals lives were far more valuable than most and a true sacrifice had been required . . . especially when one of the conditions was to leave when the war was finished.

Boss was still new to leadership and so he could be forgiven for not adhering to the standard protocol. The former leader, Pell, had been one of those sacrificed in the fires of the tribute as Lucifer chose the oldest of the various races to consume.

Three of them are friends.

"You do not speak for me," Boss said, a hint of teeth appearing as he snarled.

Boss didn't seem impressed. "Perhaps not, but do not think I am the only one to notice that you are softer on the mortals than your predecessor. The other wolf-"

Man, eyes narrowed in fury. "Do not speak to me of Type. He is not and never will be yours."

Boss tilted his head, his vacant eyes moving over Man as though he were a bug under a microscope. "I can better protect him-"

Now Man fangs fully dropped, and he took a threatening step towards the Boss, but Mell hand across his chest stayed the movement.

The older vampire fingers were tipped with deadly claws, but they did not attempt to pierce the flesh of the younger vampire. "We are in the middle of a battle," Mell said patiently. "Now is not the time to argue about Type."

Man shrugged off the other man's hold and the Boss gave no reaction what-so-ever. Jonathan watched the by play with interest, his eyes moving between the 'allies' as they glared at one another.

Why don't they share if they like that little wolf that much.

Such conversations were rare in hell-but then there were rarely beings of equal status. There was always someone more or less powerful and status was determined by who you killed and what you took as your own.

And Jonathan. . . He'd taken quite a bit over the centuries. While he'd been born within the mortal realm, the prince had been taken by his grandfather back to Hell when he'd still been a child. After killing his human father and revealing his wizard mark, the demon had come and swept him away.

Adom had visited Earth a time or two, but he generally preferred the lawlessness and debauchery of Hell to the false veneer of civility that seemed to grow stronger with the passing years along with the narcissistic self-importance of the humans and wolfs.

A self-importance that had eventually blown up in their faces.

Jonathan looked away from the squabbling creature's and back towards the battle. There was a cloud of magic that hung over the fighting masses and he smiled as it continued to swell with every death-wolf death, that is. Thousands of demons had been lost, but they were never truly alive to begin with. Their essences would be cast back into hell, and they would be reborn once more with only the need to fight. But the hundreds of dead wolfs and even human's . . . their souls had been carefully collected. His grandfather would consume some of them, but others would be repurposed into greater demons to serve him.

There was a rush of power, barely noticeable in the flux of the battle, but Jonathan was completely in tuned with battle magics. His eyes moved over the field in search of the source, and he felt the pausing of the others as they noticed his attention.

"What is it?" Boss asked.

His eyes narrowed as he felt a new pure werewolf magic the through the carnage. "One of the pure wolves among them . . . she has left the protection of the runic fields beyond the battle. She has entered the fray."

"They are retreating. Why would a Pure wolf join the fight now?" Man asked as he too looked over the field.

Jonathan had no answer and so said nothing as he leapt from the cliff and down towards his forces followed by Man and Boss. He felt drawn to this power-drawn to whoever it was that seemed intent on sacrificing themselves. His eyes scanned the carnage as his body moved through the sea of men, women, and demons. He cut down the enemies in his path like a scythe through wheat, a smile curing his lips. If he could destroy a high ranking wolf in the throws of battle, it would be one less obstacle to victory.

Perhaps if the wolf had been less skilled, Jonathan might have missed her, but the way the young woman released arrow after arrow into the skulls of the demons-they fell around her like puppets on cut strings.

Jonathan paused, watching the woman and he realized that the wolf woman wasn't moving. She was staying put, keeping demons away, but not trying to flee or giving into a bloodlust. The Devil eyes narrowed as the wolf woman paused during a lull and reached down to . . . help someone.

A small girl struggled to get up from the ground. Her side and shoulder were badly burned from his hellfire spell. The acid rain had burned through much of her Wing's, but she still held a blade to fight.

"I'm alright, Allena," she said, though her words were soft with strain.

The young woman- Allena-shook her head. "You shouldn't have been out here," she said with more than a touch of irritation. "Sam-"

The girl made a noise of anger and irritation. "Please don't talk about Sam right now," she said as she finally hauled herself to her feet.

Another wave of his forces moved in on them, but the pair had obviously trained together for an extended length of time.

They worked in almost perfect tandem as they cut down demon after demon.