From Eternity To Here
"Wesley! Cordy! Wes? Are you there? Cordy? This isn't funny, guys!"
Angel stopped yelling to listen. He heard only silence. He slipped into game face and opened his senses fully. The drip of water and scrabbling of rat claws in the tunnel below were the only sounds he heard. The faint scent of burned coffee, spilled on the hot plate of the office coffee maker above, was barely discernible underneath the stronger smells of blood and fear and Rebecca Lowell's expensive perfume that permeated the apartment. He was alone.
Son of a bitch! They'd done it. They'd actually gone, leaving him chained to his bed. Must have been Cordy's idea, because he just didn't think Wes had the balls. He thrashed against the heavy chains that held him securely bound, and his vision turned red with rage at his inability to break free. Visions of what he'd do to them both--exquisitely slowly--when he was finally freed washed over him in waves of first pleasure, and then paralyzing guilt. Eventually, he saw the humor in the situation and laughed.
His feelings had run the emotional gamut in the space of a few minutes, finally settling on 'frustrated', although he had no doubt 'bored' would be making its appearance any time now.
Angel had no idea how long he'd lain there--it could have been hours, or only minutes that felt like hours--when he heard noises in the upstairs office. He smiled. He knew his friends wouldn't really leave him here all night -- just long enough to teach him a lesson. Which was really stupid when it came right down to it. What possible lesson was he supposed to learn? To follow his instincts?
He hadn't wanted to take Rebecca's case in the first place. He'd only given in because Cordelia wanted it so badly. Rebecca had drugged him--using information she'd pried out of Cordelia--there was nothing he could have done about that. So, exactly what lesson was he supposed to learn? That Angelus was a sadistic bastard? Newsflash, Cordelia! He'd known that long before Cordelia Chase's grandparents were even born.
He strained against the chains and his head thrashed from side to side.
Hmm. Could the remnants of the drug be causing these feelings of rage? The red haze cleared and he heard footsteps upstairs. Not the businesslike staccato tapping of Cordelia's heels; not Wesley's self-effacing stumble, either. These steps were tentative, yet bold--as if the owner didn't know his way around the office, yet thought he had every right to be here, anyway.
Lindsey McDonald.
Oh, fuck! Just what he needed--to be found at a decided disadvantage by the cocky little Wolfram and Hart lawyer. Could his night get any better?
Angel heard the clang of the elevator cage door slamming shut and then the creaking of machinery as it lumbered its way downstairs. The ancient lift shuddered to a halt and the cage door opened. The hollow sound of cowboy boot heels thudded on the stone floor of the kitchen as the refrigerator and several cupboard doors were opened and shut; then the sound was muted as the boots crossed the area rugs of the living room.
Any hope that Lindsey would decide he wasn't home and just go away was dashed as the bedroom door opened.
Lindsey stood framed in the doorway, a look of shock on his expressive face as he took in the sight of Angel chained to the bed.
"Well, well, well . . . what have we here?" Lindsey gave a nervous laugh. "Has Angel been a bad boy, or is this how you get your kink on?"
Lindsey sauntered nearer to the bed as a self-satisfied smirk twisted his full lips.
Damn him! Lindsey was enjoying this entirely too much. Angel let a slow smile curve his own lips and was gratified to smell the sudden rush of fear that spiced Lindsey's sweat as his mind came to the most probable conclusion for Angel's manacled state.
"Angel?" he asked tentatively, "Or, am I finally addressing Angelus?"
Angel leered evilly. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Angel saw the confusion in Lindsey's eyes. He really wasn't sure who was ascendant. Good. Might as well mitigate the boredom of being chained up for the night by having a little fun with Lindsey.
Angel lay perfectly still, continuing to smile. Lindsey took a hesitant step forward. Angel's grin widened and he lunged, rattling the chains. Lindsey jumped backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet. His face flushed with a combination of fear, embarrassment, anger and desire. Angel's cock hardened in response.
Oh, Lindsey, you are in so far over your head, you'll never come up for air. And your main problem is that I don't need to breathe. You think you're a player, but I invented the game.
The suave, controlled façade that Lindsey had painstakingly grafted over the years slipped and, for a second, the dirt-poor, scared little boy whose ambition was so at odds with his life situation showed through Lindsey's eyes.
Angel fed on it, as if it were fine wine.
Angel cast a dismissive glance down the length of Lindsey's body, taking in the flannel shirt, unbuttoned over a white 'beater, which was tucked into soft, faded jeans that rode low on Lindsey's hips. A finely-crafted belt buckle of heavy silver, inset with turquoise, gleamed in the dim light. Well-worn cowboy boots completed the ensemble.
"Slumming, Lindsey? On your way to a costume party? Or is this the real you, and it's Attorney McDonald in his $3000 suits that's the costume?"
Coming here had been a mistake. It had seemed like a good plan at the time. Lindsey had been working on a new song, trying to unwind after a rather nasty confrontation earlier with Lilah Morgan that kept replaying in his mind. He had to stay on top of his game. Lilah was trouble--bright, driven and, although he hated to admit it, more ruthless than he; she was competition that couldn't be dismissed. He couldn't let his guard down for one second when dealing with Lilah.
It had been very late when he'd gotten the call from one of his informants. Rebecca Lowell had been seen, rushing out of Angel's place like a bat out of hell, covered in blood. It was his chance to get the jump on Lilah in a big way. If he could recruit Angelus to the service of Wolfram and Hart, he could write his own ticket. He'd rushed right over before Lilah could try to steal his thunder. But now, Lindsey was beginning to re-think his impetuosity.
"What's the matter, Lindsey? Scared of the big, bad vampire, all chained up and helpless?"
Lindsey's chin came up and he squared his shoulders and took a step closer to the bed.
This was almost too easy. How did the boy ever win a case if his emotions were this close to the surface and easy to manipulate?
Angel's fingers slowly slid across the bed while he kept his eyes locked on Lindsey's. Just a few inches more . . .
Angel's hand shot out and locked on Lindsey's wrist with an iron grip. Lindsey started, but Angel anticipated his attempt to jump back and gave a hard yank on his wrist while Lindsey was off-balance. Lindsey sprawled across Angel's body and stared at Angel in shock.
This was so not going as he had planned. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? Angel didn't seem to be planning to let go of his wrist any time soon, and now Angel's other arm was across his back like a steel bar. The chains were pressing into his chest and he found it hard to breathe, although Angel's erection pressing into his thigh may have had something to do with that, too. Lindsey did the only thing he could -- pressed closer to Angel, instead of struggling to get away, and grinned.
"Is that a flashlight in your pocket, or are you just happy t' see me?"
"I'm always happy to see you, Lindsey."
Lindsey's breath caught in his throat and he blushed furiously. What was wrong with him? The combined sense of danger and sexuality that Angel was exuding was really turning him on--in a scary, hot, blood-pumping, exciting, I-can't-believe-this-is-happening-to-me kind of way. There'd be hell to pay later . . . if he survived. Lindsey knew that, but right now, he wanted this more than anything. The rush was incredible--it was like sky diving when you weren't sure if your parachute would open, or even if you were wearing one. Vampires were inherently sexy to begin with; Angelus and his sire Darla were legendary.
A frisson of fear and desire caused Lindsey to shudder. Angel watched Lindsey's pupils dilate and licked his lips in anticipation. He may be currently immobilized, but it didn't matter--he'd made Lindsey come to him. Now, he'd make Lindsey come.
Angel slowly raised his head, neck muscles tightening with the strain, eyes locked on Lindsey's. His lips brushed across Lindsey's with a feather-light touch and Lindsey groaned as his eyes darkened to midnight blue. Angel caught Lindsey's full lower lip between his teeth and sucked it into his mouth. Lindsey's eyes half-closed as he leaned closer. Thick, sooty lashes veiled their expression, as Angel sucked on Lindsey's lip.
This wouldn't do. This wouldn't do at all. The eyes are said to be the windows of the soul, and Angel wanted to strip Lindsey's soul bare--drinking in every expression . . . every nuance. He bit down hard, drawing blood.
Lindsey's eyes flew open and he jerked back in shock. Angel sucked harder, savoring the taste of Lindsey's blood on his tongue. He forced his tongue past Lindsey's teeth and his lips curved into a smile as he marked the calculation in Lindsey's eyes. Anger simmered just below the surface, and he knew Lindsey desperately wanted to gnaw his tongue to a bloody pulp in retribution, but he wouldn't--because he wasn't quite sure what vampire blood in his mouth would do to him. So he tamped down his anger as Angel's tongue took possession of his mouth.
Angel's mouth softened, and he gentled Lindsey as he would a skittish horse. He felt Lindsey relax against him. His tongue traced the contours of Lindsey's swollen lips, then scraped across the stubble on Lindsey's chin to his ear. He felt the faint indentation of the piercing there as he gently nibbled Lindsey's earlobe.
His hand unclasped Lindsey's belt buckle and worked the button loose. Angel slowly pulled the zipper down, knuckles brushing against the underside of Lindsey's cock. His lips moved down Lindsey's throat, past the scratchy area of beard stubble, to the soft skin beneath. He breathed in the enticing scent of Lindsey's sweat as he pressed his lips to the thudding pulse point.
Lindsey's breath hitched as he sucked in air through his mouth and his heart began to beat faster. Angel's fingers curled around Lindsey's cock--the pulsing of the vein on the underside a fraction of a second slower than the pulse in his throat. Angel rubbed his thumb over the head of Lindsey's cock and felt the answering thud of Lindsey's pulse beneath his lips.
Lindsey moaned.
Angel slid his hand up and down Lindsey's cock, reveling in the blood thundering through his veins. Angel's eyes glowed yellow as he slipped into game face. Razor-sharp fangs carefully pierced Lindsey's throat. Lindsey's hot, pulsating blood shot into his throat a split second before Lindsey's come covered his hand.
Lindsey screamed.
Angel carefully pulled out of Lindsey's throat as Lindsey threw himself off the bed and scrambled away. Lindsey slapped a hand to his throat and slumped against the far wall, panting and livid.
" 'the fuck d'ja do t' me?"
"What you wanted me to do--what you were practically begging for, Lindsey."
"You're fulla shit!"
"Am I?"
"I never asked y' t' bite me, y' fuckin' bastard!"
"Oh, but you did, Lindsey . . . will every cell of your body crying out for me, you did."
Lindsey buttoned his jeans and pulled up the zipper with trembling fingers. He got to his knees and then managed to stand, using the wall for support. He gingerly explored the two small puncture wounds -- at least the bastard hadn't torn his throat out. Lindsey pulled a bandanna from his back pocket and pressed it over his throat, putting pressure on the wounds.
He began to back out of the room, sliding his shoulder along the wall, never taking his furious eyes from Angel. He came to the door and gripped the frame, his hand leaving a smear of blood as a memento.
"You're fuckin' crazy! You come near me again . . ."
Angel smiled.
Lindsey turned and fled.
Angel's tongue flicked out to lick the last drops of blood from his lips as his hand closed around his own cock. There'd be other times. Lindsey would be back. And next time he would be the one in chains . . .