Angels in the Knight, Part 7

Bakura saw the blood well forth, and he leaned down, licking up the red liquid. Malik’s taste was sweet, sugary and innocent. It lingered on the tongue sending shivers down the daemon’s spine. He visibly shook as he leaned down again and captured Malik’s warm mouth with his own. His tongue made love to his mouth as it expertly moved in and out of Malik’s sweetness. The young angel trembled beneath him. Bakura slid his tongue ever so slowly out of Malik’s causing a whimper of protest to escape.

“Do you want me Malik?” Bakura asked, fingering the golden locks, “Shall I show you what the body can do? Do you want to experience freedom and be with me?”

“I…I…” Malik trembled, “Yes, I want you. I want to be with you always, Master Ryou.”

“Shhh, I do not go by that name anymore my little lovely one.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I am so nervous.”

“You won’t be for long my love.”

Bakura leaned down once more, nibbling on Malik’s succulent lips, his hands fumbling with the pants of the tanned angel. The buckle came undone, revealing smooth flesh beneath the soft layer of artificial skin. Bakura couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Malik may have been able to copy the style of humans, but he couldn’t copy the under layers seeing as he has never seen any before. He bent, taking Malik’s nipple between him lips and teeth and tongue, licking, biting, kissing. Bakura pinned the angel to the bed. The boy sure knew how to buck.

Malik threw back his head as another sensational yummy feeling electrocuted his body. His skin tingled and seemed to glow of its own accord. A whimper escaped him as Bakura’s teeth racked over his sensitive skin. He felt the warm, wet tongue muscle run down his chest, dipping into his navel. Another shock raced through him and he cried out quite loudly. Smooth fingers reached into him pant’s zipper, fumbling and tickling the growing arousal. Malik looked up. Bakura had positioned himself above him, his eyes now smoldering hungrily.

“You’re going to get quite a bang out of this my little lovely one,” Bakura whispered, lowering himself over him.

A sudden crash interrupted the two lovers. Bakura threw his body of the form of Malik, shielding him from any danger. As the smoke cleared, an assertive voice spoke from the gloom.

“Ryou Bakura, former Angel Master of Light, you are ordered to return to Heaven. Cooperate and we will allow you to come free of bonds, however, should you disobey we will be forced to bring you. Violently should the need arise.”

Malik peeked through Bakura’s arms and he gasped. “Master Michael!” he gasped.

The Archangel turned his gaze to the young angel lying on the bed, his amethyst eyes wide in astonishment and fear.

“First Class Angel Malik Ishtar,” Michael said, “Get up. You disgrace us by portraying yourself as such. Yet good work. Without you, we would not have been able to find this Fallen One. God is a little upset, but I have faith that he will forgive you. You are, after all, his favorite.”

Bakura’s chuckle cut off any other words that Michael may have said. The Archangel unit stared at him, hands on hilts of swords. Bakura went into a mad laugh as his eyes formed pointed irises, his teeth becoming more pointed. He turned on them, jumping off the bed. “Forgive?!” Bakura shrieked, “God doesn’t give a damn about any of us! If you remember Michael, I was his favorite once upon a time! And that Archangel’s death could have been prevented if He had allowed Fate to play her role! Did I get a trial and forgiveness?! NO! He tossed me from Heaven like a rat!”

As Bakura spoke, his fingers became long tapering claws, his black wings growing from his back as tattoos formed on his body. The room about them darkened with impending doom. It was rumored that Bakura was one of the strongest daemons, next to the ancient Pharaoh. A few of the archangel’s stepped back.

“And now he wants me to return? I’d rather go to Hell a hundred times over than go back to that plane.”

“You dare insult our Lord and Creator!?” Michael raged.

Bakura’s smirk was answer enough. “So be it!”

Michael’s sword flashed upwards, glinting with a mysterious light. Bakura snarled loudly. His claws glittered as he swung them forward to an attack stance. The sword swung down. It stopped before it hit home.

Malik had run forward, hugging Bakura tightly about the neck, shielding his body with his own. His white wings shimmered in the dim, brighter than sword and battle armor of the Archangels.

“I cannot, I will not let you hurt him!” Malik whispered, tears choking his voice.

Bakura wrapped his arms around the young angel, holding him tightly to his body. The Archangels looked to their leader for instructions. Michael was beside himself with fury. He did not believe what God said when He reported that something like this had happened. Malik was smarter than that, a little naïve, but intelligent nonetheless. Michael sighed. There was nothing he could do, and although he was against the action he was about to do, he had to do it. Under God’s orders, he would take Bakura back to Heaven, by force if need be.

A blue ball of flame erupted from his hand and he flung it towards the two of them. As expected, Bakura shoved Malik to one side, keeping him safe from harm and then leapt to the other side. The smoke cleared as Bakura rose in a fury that made any God tremble in fear. He turned on Michael, ready to lunge at him, fireballs of dark red forming on his hands. His roar ended in a choke. Michael held Malik against his chest, his sword held at his throat. Bakura paled.

“Come back to Heaven now,” Michael said heavily,

“Otherwise I will be forced to harm this fledgling.”

“You wouldn’t dare hurt another angel, especially one as young and important as he.”

A whimper from Malik stayed the rest of Bakura’s harsh words. The sword gleamed with a trickle of blood that came from a growing nick at the base of Malik’s lovely neck.

“Do not be so sure that you are the only one who has changed Ryou Bakura,” whispered Michael, “Now stand down or I will harm him further.”

The blade pressed against the flesh, making him cry out in pain. Bakura snarled but the look in Malik’s tear filled eyes stayed his actions. His hands went to his sides, returning to their original forms. Bakura became passive and limp and all his power returned to sleep within him. The Archangels took him, chaining his hands behind his back and locked his wings together with a wide metal strip. About his neck, the Angels placed a metal collar with a long chain attached to it. His face made no expression of pain, or fury, or sorrow. It was devoid of all emotion, his once sparkling crystal blue eyes were now dead.

Michael released Malik into the arms of another Angel and stood before Malik.

“Ryou Bakura,” Michael began, unfurling his wings to their full span, “Former Angel Master of Light you are hereby arrested and to be taken to Heaven where you will be judged in three days time. God shall judge and be jury to your trial before your former colleagues and the Archangels who took you. In the three days that you are held you may repent for all sins you have committed, willing and unwilling. Have you anything to say?”

Bakura remained silent, shifting his eyes to Malik’s frightened form. Malik trembled at the deadness in Bakura’s eyes. Tears filled and poured from his eyes like raindrops on a cold winter’s day. Bakura’s voice whispered out to his captors.

“What I would say would not concern you all, save for the innocent you now hold in your arms, but I will not say it because it would embarrass him.”

“Very well,” Michael said, taking hold of Bakura’s chain, “We will return.”

There was a flash of light and all the angels in the room vanished. The only thing that remained of their existence were two feathers, one black the other white, intertwining with one another as they drifted to the floor.