Lindsey´s Angels 7
December 17, 2004
Hyperion Hotel, Library,
10.30am
"Are you sure it was Spike in your vision?"
"Yeah Riley, I am"
"Uhh, it´s Graham actually...sorry"
Shoulders shrugged, Doyle gave a nod in the direction of the deep voice, hoping he was looking at the right person. He had already had this conversation with Angel the day before when the vision had been only seconds fresh. Like wishing bad luck on himself, he had only been thinking of his visions when one had decided that it was time to re–start the visitations. The vampire had come running it to see what the half–demon had been yelling about and had caught him in mid–throes of a vision, both deciding that it was a sign to return to L.A. on the next convenient flight. Rebecca had been more than happy to help Angel make a temporary Islamic head to toe covering for the half–demon, a thin face covering and sunglasses completing the disguise.
With a sigh, he told the two ex–soldiers, Wesley and Joyce exactly what he had told Angel.
"It wasn´t the nicest I´ve seen, and that´s saying something too. From the looks of it, he was strapped down on a table in a silver room. I..I really didn´t get very clear ´scenes´, it was more like a few well chosen flashes"
"Why..I mean..What was so unpleasant about this one?"
"Christ...How do I put this? Uhh, I had a few flashes that looked directly down on him and...well, lets just say missing teeth and fingers are the least of his problems. What I´m trying to say is that he looks like he´s donated a few organs and other essential bits and pieces"
A soft sob broke through the uncomfortable silence as each person digested the new information, Joyce wishing she could cuddle the bleached blond, no matter how much she knew he would snarl at her. Wesley spoke up next.
"Didth uh sthee anfing elsth?"
"Did you see anything else?"
"I hate to say this but you two are freaking me out...sorry but you are. No, but the thing is, this was the strongest vision I´ve ever had...it wasn´t the most painful but it was a lot clearer and I could smell something as well, it was rotten...almost like a decaying scent. That doesn´t make sense does it?"
Doyle answered Wesley´s next questions with as much information as he could, trying not to let Joyce´s clearly pronounced echo get to him. Yes, he had smelt things before in a vision but never such an identifiable scent and no, he hadn´t heard anything either.
"Maybe there was nothing to be heard?"
"Quite the possibility...What do you think, Francis?"
Doyle agreed with Riley and Wesley´s idea, surprised about the notion himself. An independent question from Joyce and he reluctantly told the gathered group about seeing Spike weeping.
"Oh God, Drusilla said he was, and I quote, "Crying like a kitten" I was hoping that it was one of her nonsense sentences, not something that was true. Angel told you about what Drusilla said didn´t he?"
"Yeah he did and he told me that she sort of combusted...Is that true?"
The half–demon sat quietly, face turned towards Joyce´s voice as she told him in more detail of what had happened in the kitchen only days before. As one, the four men and one woman agreed that things were moving fast, almost too fast for them. They were all pleased to be making such progress but with so many things going wrong, they each felt like things were slipping beyond their grasp.
"Something is pushing it to go fast, the PTB want this to happen. I´m not saying that the PTB wanted you to lose your eyes or for me to have Joyce speaking for me but it´s just too co–incidental for this to be happening naturally. I mean, you have a major vision almost the instant you see Angel again after months of only having as what you describe as ´soft and fluffy´ visions."
"So you think something major is going down and the PTB want things to be ready for when it does?"
"It´s only one theory but I really can´t think of any other explanation....can you?"
With a shake of his head as Joyce finished speaking for Wesley, Doyle agreed with the ex–watcher. Wes was right. At Joyce´s offer of coffee and tea, the half–demon added a black coffee to her list of one Earl Grey, a camomile tea and a decaf coffee. A snicker escaped Doyle´s lips as he realised just who the herbal was for, something that he could never imagine a tough soldier would go for. As he heard Joyce leave the library, he felt a tension slam into place, making him shudder slightly.
"Wes is going to train Joyce in spellcasting."
"Really? Is she even a bit talented at it?"
Leaning forward, the Irishman inclined his head towards where he thought Graham was sitting, his attention captured completely. He listened as Wes attempted to strangle out a reply, only to suddenly wish that Joyce was back in the room to make the answer clear for them all. Flinching slightly as the ex–watcher viciously swore, he was surprised when Graham took up what Wes was trying to say. Obviously it had been discussed by the group before and it was something that Angel had no idea about as well, Doyle was sure it would have come up before now if the vampire did know.
"What? You telling me that Joyce may have been an uncalled Slayer? Are you serious, because it´s just too easy to yank my chain at the moment."
"Serious, Wes was telling us that the Council kept watch on all the uncalled Slayers for when they had their own children, and usually one of them gave birth to a girl that would become the Slayer. Sometimes they missed it because an unidentified Slayer candidate and occasionally, a normal woman gave birth to the next Slayer instead. Wes is hoping that she was an unidentified candidate, not just normal."
"How...shit! Does Joyce know? How do they identify candidates anyway?"
Leaning back, Graham let Riley take over the story as he watched Wes nod at everything his blond friend was saying. Attention turned from the conversation as he had heard it before, Graham looked closely at the re–united member of the L.A. team. He took in the weird skin colour, noting that it was actually quite a pretty tone. Almost a light teal. How long Doyle was going to be that colour, no–one was really too sure yet. Wesley had put it down to the man´s demon side emerging a little more prominently to speed up Doyle´s healing. Raising his eyes a touch, the ex–soldier couldn´t help but stare at the lumpy uneven scar tissue that glued the younger man´s eye lids together. He had already heard the whole horrid story about Doyle´s confinement and abuse in the early hours of that morning, the telling leaving the Irishman exhausted and in need of sleep. Something that Angel was still doing. Nine hours and still counting, Graham knew that it was more than likely that the vampire had taken a few tablets or even injected himself for him to be out this long.
Graham had ended up secreting the drugs back into the same hiding place as everyone agreed not to confront Angel just yet. They wanted Doyle to settle in first. Riley, Graham and Joyce decided that Wesley should get a bit more strength for when the time came. They also wanted to know just what type of drugs they were dealing with and until the analysis came back, they had no idea. Graham had scraped one side of each tablet, gently shaving a fine powder into a small ziplock bag until there had been almost a quarter gram, he had been unwilling to send a whole one in case Angel noticed that one was missing from his stash. He had also gone and purchased a kit of five syringes from the pharmacy in order to draw a small amount from one of the vials, again not wanting Angel to know a syringe was missing.
Wes had been worried that the vampire would smell everybody in his room, knowing that only he and Joyce could give a good reason for being in there while Angel had been away. So, Joyce had done her first ´teamie´, a deodorant spell. One that mixed peoples aroma´s into a pleasant herbal smell. It had taken a few tries and a failure before getting it right. The failure had been in the practice room that Wes had claimed on the fourth floor, the room now stinking of rotten cabbage, a smell that was refusing to dissipate. Overall, Wes had been happy with the outcome.
Snapping back to the present, Graham caught the tail end of the conversation as Riley was explaining to a still bemused Doyle that because it was possible that Joyce had been an uncalled Slayer, it was his theory that she might be more in tune with the nature of magic than possibly even Willow or Tara had been. But as he had said, only time and practice would tell. With a small chuckle, he laughed with the rest when Doyle pondered the thought that maybe Willow was an uncalled Slayer herself given her gift for the art of magic. Graham conceded that it might be possible but from what he knew of the girl, she just didn´t have the killer attitude that Buffy had possessed.
"Does Angel know?"
The laughter stopped dead in it´s tracks, Doyle´s face suddenly serious. He knew that there had to be a reason as to why Angel didn´t yet know and he just couldn´t convince himself that Wes was going to see how Joyce went before telling the vampire. Wes was always up front about everything, informing them all about all possibilities whether they panned out or not. For the ex–watcher to be keeping something from Angel, meant that there was a problem.
"No, he doesn´t yet"
Head turned towards the doorway, he nodded in Joyce´s direction as she answered the question before anyone else could. As he felt a warm mug get pressed into his outstretched hand, Doyle listened in shock as Joyce described just what had been happening with his best friend. Forgetting totally about his coffee, he sat with an open mouth as he heard about the frequent naps that had started only a few months ago. Naps that had led to lengthy sleep periods that were almost every second day now. At his stuttered question, Doyle was told of how Riley and Graham were sometimes forced to shake Angel awake if they received a phone call during one of his naps. He snapped his body towards Graham´s deeper voice.
"You actually shake a sleeping vampire? Are you mental? Mate, if it was me...I´d be standing bloody twenty foot away and be poking at him with a fucking big stick...no way would I actually risk my neck and *shake* a sleeping vampire!"
"I know, I was like that the first few times as well but when he´s in one of his ´sleeps´, he is so groggy for the first half hour when woken, it´s a wonder he doesn´t break his neck coming down the steps. I don´t think he would be able to attack us even if he wanted to, I´m pretty sure he would just fall out of bed and go straight back to sleep."
"Huh!"
Finally taking a sip of his cooling coffee, Doyle wondered just how fucked up things could get and if it was possible for the universe to screw everybody´s lives just a little more. Snorting to himself, he knew that it was highly likely that a major ´something´ would happen in the next few days if the past was anything to go by.
"Why haven´t you asked him what was going on after the first few all day sleep sessions...? I mean, why leave it to go on for so long?"
"Uhhh..well, Ri and I looked in a few of Wesley´s books about vampires and we thought it might be some sort of hibernation thing that vampires do under stress, you know, like re–charging the batteries. The books were full of goobdleygook, we didn´t want to ask Wes because he was still sick and we didn´t want to alarm Joyce by jumping to conclusions. It wasn´t until we saw the track marks that it clicked."
Head hung just slightly lower than it had been before, Wesley felt the shame flame across his face as he realised that if he had kept a grip on himself, he could have stopped Angel before it had come so far. Another part of him acknowledged that it was quite possible that Angel would have come to this point even with Wesley making his concern known. If only he hadn´t been so selfish and had stopped thinking of just himself. He was only just starting to come to terms with his disfigurement but it shouldn´t have been any excuse to ignore others who were in just as much pain and inner turmoil as himself.
His reunion with Angel that early morning had been less than ecstatic, the vampire giving him a cold look before ignoring everyone once Doyle had been settled into his old room. Every attempt from Joyce, Riley and Graham to speak with the tall brunette had been rebuffed, Angel letting his feelings be known by slamming his bedroom door. Wesley knew that the vampire was probably feeling betrayed by people he trusted to follow his leadership but the ex–watcher agreed with his co–workers, Angel was not capable of making decisions concerning other people anymore. Not while he was still on drugs, even if they were just sleeping tablets. Wesley hadn´t been expecting flowers or chocolates nor had he wanted a few lines of lovesick poetry, but he had been looking forward to a smile and few quiet words from his ex–lover, something that he was now clear–headed enough to appreciate.
He was still feeling slightly musty headed but he knew that it would eventually pass, as would his feelings of inadequacy. Wes wanted nothing more to just sit down and talk with someone about how overwhelmed he felt but with both therapists dead, he had no–one to turn to and he wasn´t about to heap more problems onto one of his co–workers, even if they did offer their shoulder in the future. Idly, he wondered if Doyle knew if the therapists were dead, something that he hadn´t known himself up and til a few days ago when he had finally caught up with everything after being out of it for so long.
"The thewapiths are dweath. Bwawbwa dieth fwom uh thwellfusth awergy und the wun in Thunnydale culleth himthelth. I cawth hulp buth think thath ith an athempth thoo itholath uth all tho thath we hath no choith buth thoo do wath the phwoncalth thelth uth thoo do. We are beingth itholathed fwom outhideth inflwunthth."
"The therapists are dead. Barbara died from a shellfish allergy and the one in Sunnydale killed himself. I can´t help but think its an attempt to isolate us all so that we have no choice but to do what the phone calls tell us to do. We are being isolated from outside influences."
"It´s just too convenient for them both to die."
Riley was again thankful for Joyce´s input with the conversation, he hadn´t understood a thing that Wes had just said. Nodding to what Wes had said, he was pleased to see that Doyle looked like he was thinking along the same lines. He couldn´t help but shudder a little as he took in how badly the half–demon had been sewn up, he was sure a field surgeon in the middle of World War Two would have been able to do a better job. Plastic surgery would no doubt be able to fix most of the newly formed scar tissue. Riley wondered just how Cordelia was going to react when she saw Doyle next. Whether the pretty brunette would accept Doyle with his disfigurement or be too horrified at the sight to get over it. The tall blond was hoping that she would stand by her fiancee, he was a good man and from what he had said earlier that morning, the thought of marrying Cordelia was one of the things he had clung to while in isolation.
The ex–soldier sat quietly as it was decided that one of the first spells Joyce would be taught was the location spell, fixating on Spike for the first attempt. As Doyle started agreeing, he suddenly asked just what had happened to the tracker Riley and Graham had implanted into Xander and if they had had any success with it. Riley cursed inwardly as he saw the hope that adorned the Irishman´s face fall as Graham explained that the tracker had been unable to focus on the youth, the shorter soldier putting it down to the same jewellery that had made locating Xander via a spell so difficult.
Ultimately it was decided that Joyce would start learning it that afternoon while Doyle rested up some more, with Riley and Graham keeping an eye on Angel once he woke.
December 20, 2004
Wolfram and Hart
9.18am
Slamming the door to his office, Lindsey threw his briefcase across the room only to curse when it broke open, spilling paperwork over the plush carpet.
"Fuck!"
Expensive leather chair kicked a few times, the irate lawyer tried to steady his breathing before he did something really stupid...like telling Tomas to go fuck himself. It was all the warlock´s fault. It was *not* Lindsey´s fault, not that Holland was viewing the situation in that sort of light. Still snarling to himself, the angry man strode over to his wrecked briefcase, bending down in front of it. Papers shoved into the useless case, Lindsey strove for a solution to the mess he had found himself in.
The half demon was supposed to be dead. Dead and rotting in a bloody field somewhere, not back at the Hyperion. Tomas had sworn black and blue that his apprentice´s location spell hadn´t failed and that Doyle *was* dead. But no, the piece of Irish shit had been found by fucking Amish farmers, no less. Lindsey had been amazed that the half–demon hadn´t died while his eyes had been removed for sale, and because he wasn´t allowed to torture Angel any more than he already was, he had decided to give orders for the mutilated man to be kept alive. So, for two weeks, Doyle had been ´cared´ for while Lindsey had thought about what to do with him.
Doyle had been driven to barely civilised part of Pennsylvania and dumped after Holland had told Lindsey to dispose of the half–demon. Thrown out and dumped like the piece of shit he was. What no–one had counted on, was the will to survive. The lawyer had thought the demon might last a few days by himself before being set upon by wild animals or even breaking a few limbs and dying of thirst.....Amish farmers had never even come into the equation. The idea of a few more days suffering for the Irishman had been too tempting for Lindsey to order a quick death. He wasn´t supposed to be re–united with his friends and giving them hope, it wasn´t supposed to work this way.
With a shudder, Lindsey realised that he had less than an hour until his meeting with Holland, just thanking God that he didn´t answer to the warlock. No mater how much Holland gave him the creeps, with the older man´s carefully cultivated ´fatherly´ manner, it was the younger warlock that scared the shit out Lindsey. The older lawyer had decided on the second day of knowing Tomas that the other man was the scariest motherfucker on the face of the earth. Even with Holland´s carefully presented front, there was always a hint of menace with everything he did or said, unlike the warlock.
It wasn´t his looks or anything overt...it was the way Tomas was so harmless looking. He was nothing special, only about five foot seven, a slightly chubby build...just completely ordinary. You could just pass him by in the street and not give him a second thought, let alone a first one. It was the way he *smiled* at you, nice and pleasantly with no sudden mood changes or a wild look...just nicely. Lindsey was sure the each time Tomas smiled at him, the warlock was cataloguing which of the lawyers body parts would complement his spells and concoctions.
Lindsay knew that the unfortunate apprentice was already floating in a tank somewhere in the depths of the Warlocks workrooms, a place that the lawyer avoided entering unless it was completely necessary. He had inquired about the bleached vampire once and after seeing what condition the demon had been in, Lindsey knew he would rather kill himself than be given to Tomas.
Sighing, the lawyer wondered how he was going to explain the half–demon´s miraculous survival to Holland. The only good news was that Sanity´s auction was organised and ready to be swung into action, in the next month or so. Randall had opted for a private auction for the boys with only the demons on the whores regular lists invited. Made sense, thought Lindsey. The firm just couldn´t risk Angel finding out about the sale and ruining everything. Hopefully, this information would go a long way to earning himself another chance.
December 20, 2004
Hyperion Hotel
3.51pm
Milk stirred into the steaming coffee, Riley sighed at the thought of just a few hours to call his own, time for him to do his own thing. Wesley and Joyce were reading through Drusilla´s ramblings. Now that the ex–Watcher was feeling better, both were sitting at the front desk in case the phone rang. Doyle was upstairs sleeping again, his stamina and general wellbeing still at a low level after all he had gone through, thankfully the doctor had pronounced him relatively healthy despite everything. Graham was at the nearby gym for the next few hours, the afternoon was his free time and tomorrow, it would be Riley´s turn. And Angel, well apparently the vampire was sniffing his neck....
Letting go of the teaspoon, the tall blond tried not to jump as he realised what the vampire was doing. Slowly, Riley turned to face his friend who was only inches away. A scowl decorating his face, Riley asked the most obvious question.
"What are you doing? Did you just *sniff* me?"
When his question got no reply, the ex–soldier felt his heart rate increase by a few beats, suddenly wary as Angel gave him a slight smirk. Angel didn´t smirk, sure, he smiled but he never ever smirked.
"How long have you been standing there?"
Angel didn´t answer, his smirk growing larger.
Shit! This was creepy...Ever since Angel and Doyle had returned from Lancaster County, the vampire hadn´t spoken to anyone, not even his ex–boyfriend. Something that was of a concern to them all, especially as they knew how worried the brunette was about Wes. No, he had avoided everyone, locking himself in his room. Wesley had told everyone to leave the vampire be, assuming that Angel just wanted to brood for a while before talking about the hospital incident. Riley had been uneasy as had Graham but after Doyle had agreed with Wes, the blond had gone along with it. This was the first morning that Angel had come down from his room. As Angel´s smirk grew into a wide smile, Riley felt a flicker of annoyance.
"Angel...w..what are you doing....? Get off me..Ahhhh!"
Faster than he would have thought possible, Riley found himself spun around and pinned to the kitchen bench. Struggling to free his arms from behind his back, the blond attempted to kick backwards at the vampire standing like a solid wall behind him. The ex–soldier squawked with pain as Angel rammed the blond´s lower abdomen into the bench, just managing to bruise Riley´s genitals on the sharp corner. With deep breaths as he tried to will the pain away, the struggling man wheezed out another question as to what Angel was doing, getting his legs kicked out so that the vampire was squarely in between them as an answer. Jesus, Riley had gone against countless vampires in his time, even Angel once, but he couldn´t ever remember the brunette being this strong.
"W..wwwhhhhattt..the *fuck*!"
Riley hoped to god he wasn´t really feeling what he thought he was. Wrists wrenched in a iron grip behind his neck, his head was forced onto the counter by Angel´s solid weight as he felt the vampire draping himself over the taller blond´s back. That wasn´t what was scaring Riley. It was the fact that Angel was grinding and rubbing himself against the human´s buttocks, snarling filling the quiet kitchen. Riley was too shocked to even consider yelling for someone to help him. Even if he did, there was only Joyce and Wesley who would be able to.
His next attempt at a question resulted in Angel shifting his weight slightly, enabling the blond to raise his head a few inches. Just as he was taking a breath to start yelling at the vampire, Riley groaned as his head was slammed back down onto the counter, his neck twisting as his forehead connected with the cool counter. Pain flared down the right side of his neck and down deep into his spine as Angel started to grind harder into him, the vampire´s snarling growing louder. Riley had all the breath knocked out of him as the brunette pulled him away from the bench only to make sure the corner of the bench mashed into his genitals again. The blond pushed his pelvis back into the vampire in a desperate effort to make the other man back off only to almost instantly snap his hips forward as he received a better feel of the hard organ grinding against him.
"G..g.get o.offfff mmeee."
Choking on his words as a solid elbow connected with his ribs, Riley continued to struggle as Angel smacked his head into the kitchen counter again, causing his neck to seize up. He couldn´t believe this was happening. How could something like this happen to him and most importantly...Why? He frantically pulled at his wrists as he felt one of Angel´s large hands leave, only to have the vampire suddenly bury his face in the crook of Riley´s neck.
"WE...."
Before he had even gotten half the name out, Riley felt two pinpricks at his neck causing him to cease his struggling. He was terrified. He knew that he wasn´t dealing with his friend anymore, he was dealing with a seriously wacked Master Vampire. One that had a soul. Riley knew that Angel had his soul, Hell, he had been one of the chief organisers of the party they had held when it had been revealed the binding spell had been successful. So, why was Angel doing this? Surely, Angel couldn´t be horny? And if he was, why was he forcing himself onto Riley whom the vampire knew was straight? His fear increased a notch as he realised that the brunette was fast ripping a large hole in the back of his pants and boxers with one hand, the other still keeping his wrists in position over his neck via a hard cool grip on a few fingers on each hand. As the cool air greeted his buttocks through the newly torn hole in his pants, Riley sucked his breath in as Angel simultaneously raked his fangs along his neck and rubbed a hard length against his bare skin. In an odd thought, Riley wondered when Angel had found the time to undo his own pants.
"Nonononononononono."
Riley wasn´t sure what was scaring him the most, the hard flesh rubbing between his buttocks or the feel of one of Angels fangs breaking the skin on his neck. With every fibre of his being, the blond ex–soldier pleaded with the PTB for someone to disturb the vampire. The fangs withdrew from his neck for a moment, a tongue roughly lapping at the tiny pinpricks until they were replaced once more, the teeth tracing an unknown pattern on his sweaty skin. Riley could feel Angel´s cock leaking pre–cum between his cheeks, the rubbing massaging it into his skin. In a desperate attempt to free himself, the taller blond heaved himself backwards, managing to push the heavier man back a step before he found himself having his head continually beaten into the counter. As the stars threatened to overwhelm him, Riley noted the bench surface was denting beneath the solid blows of his forehead. Still, Angel hadn´t said one word to him.
"Gasp...P..p.pleeaassse Angel?"
Once again his stomach was crushed into the bench as the growling and snarling reached a new crescendo. Suddenly, the vampire ceased his rubbing against Riley, something that the younger man was thankful for until he realised that his anus and upper thighs were being steadily coated in a cool liquid. Nausea rose from deep within him as a chill burrowed deep into his bones. Riley knew that Angel was cumming on him, he could feel the vampire´s cool shaft pulsing and twitching as it lay nestled between his buttock cheeks. Another few grinds against him, three more neck jarring smacks of his head into the already dented bench and Riley found himself being dragged by his hair and wrists through the corridor that led from the kitchen to the main foyer. He was forced to let Angel take him to the front desk, the stars that were swimming in his head dazing him into complete submission.
As he was dumped onto the hard floor, he was dimly aware of Joyce and Wesley both screaming at Angel, Wesley demanding to know what the vampire had just done with Joyce shrieking the words clearly. He couldn´t really concentrate on the words, amazed to find that his nose was bleeding.
"MINE"
At the roar that tore through the Hyperion´s lobby, Riley found himself picked up and shaken like a rag doll, the screams of Wes and Joyce increasing in pitch and volume. Head snapping back and forth loosely, the ex–soldier gurgled in protest as a trickle of blood found its way down the back of his throat. Flung to one side, Riley stopped his slide across the floor just in time to see Wesley get manhandled up the main steps towards the first floor by a still snarling gamefaced vampire. As he watched a crying Joyce hurry towards him, Riley wondered if Angel had done up his zipper after the brunette had finished with him.
