Part 4
Cordelia held nervously to Angel’s arm as he escorted her into the beautiful theater where the ballet was being held. She loved getting dressed up, and this particular dress fit like a glove. Being on Angel’s arm just seemed to complete the whole feeling of euphoria. And it didn’t seem to matter tonight that every fiber of her being cried out to be near him. It just seemed right tonight, somehow.
It didn’t change the fact that the pull toward Angel was getting stronger. Not only that, but her hormones, or something anyway, was making her all hot and flustered all the time now, not just around Angel, but it was the worst around him. She was getting more and more desperate to find some escape from this, and tackling Angel seemed like the most appealing option. Even though she was salivating at the idea, her body trembling even at the thought, she pushed it aside. Angel would never agree to do that, no matter how she felt about it. Cordelia guessed she should go talk to Wesley, but it just seemed so awkward. Going up to one of your closest friends and telling them how horny you are just seemed a little, well, vulgar.
Seeing Angel tonight in his suite before they left, in all his salty goodness, had tested the limits of her control. She’d sought little ways to take the edge off her raging libido, reaching up to adjust his tie, catching his gaze with hers. She’d kept her voice and conversation light, standing close but not too close. It hadn’t helped, not really. He’d been reserved, like always, but it had been obvious from the look in his eyes when he saw her that he was floored by her appearance.
It was heady, the thought that Angel found her physically attractive. Cordelia had wondered at times, thinking that maybe her beauty was fading, that maybe, a non-blonde in a line of platinum beauties, that Angel wouldn’t ever think of her that way. She hadn’t ever wanted him to, except for the principle of the thing, until very recently. But now, the knowledge of his attraction to her did nothing to bank the flames stirring in her gut, only stoke them. The only thing that saved her was the hesitation in his features, the uncertainty in his gaze. Part of him may want to ravish her, but something was holding him back. That knowledge was the only thing that kept her from throwing herself into his arms and begging him to stay at home with her, in bed and inside her.
As they took their seats, Cordelia fought the urge to snuggle up to Angel, using that as an excuse to touch him. She was nonchalant about it, first feigning sleep of to one side, then slowly shifting over until she was snuggled up to Angel’s shoulder. She was sure she looked kind of silly, but just the feel of his tuxedo jacket’s fabric on her cheek was barely enough to soothe the roaring within her.
She only hoped she could hold it together for the next couple of hours until she could escape him again.
***
An hour later found her wondering if she really could keep it together. She was trapped backstage, in the enchanted halls of the ballet, sleuthing with Angel. Alone. Together. In a place where magic was rampant. That never spelled anything good.
Cautiously, she followed him as the pathway twisted and turned, until they found themselves in a room that felt different from the rest. A room that made her body tingle and the wound in her neck throb in anticipation of something. Something groiny.
Angel swallowed heavily as the mystical, sexual energy flooded him when they entered. The last place he wanted to be with Cordelia was somewhere that his demon’s fetishes were encouraged. But they had no choice. This entire backstage area was controlled by something mystical, and to escape, they had to solve the mystery. He shoved his raging sex drive aside and tried to focus on the matter at hand.
“This is her dressing room,” he commented as they entered the dark room, lush-colored costumes draped on the ornate furniture.
“Prima ballerina,” Cordelia added as Angel shut the door behind them.
“It’s unchanged,” Angel added, his eyes roving the room, taking in the antique furnishings that looked brand new.
She walked over to the dressing table, sinking down into the chair and perusing the items on the tray. Picking up a small golden cross encrusted with diamonds, she held it up so that it sparkled in the light as it dangled from her fingers.
“She would wait for him here,” she said, the story beginning to flow through her.
Angel felt the mystical surge, too. “It’s warm,” he said, his voice not without concern, a hint of caution flavoring the tone. “It’s very warm.”
Cordy turned and faced him. “I feel it,” she said, nodding, intoxicated by the rush of energy. With it, the wound in her neck seemed to burst into flames, pulsating, arousing feelings inside that she was desperately trying to ignore. God, she wanted him to come over to her, undress her, kiss her, bite her—
She stood rapidly in an effort to gain control of herself.
“Something happened here,” he was saying.
“Angel?” Cordy said, her voice questioning, the urge to be near him suddenly overpowering her. She felt the presence of another in her mind, a desperate, feminine presence not her own. It magnified her already crazy emotions, the “other” wanting Angel just as desperately.
“Yeah?” he said, distracted, as his eyes searched the room for clues.
“I want you to undress me,” she said, the voice of the “other” echoing her own thoughts so clearly that she was startled by it.
“You what?” Angel said, surprised.
Cordelia’s psyche screamed for her to close her mouth, to stop talking, but the other was too strong. Its words continued to flow, a speech that followed her own desperate desires, cloaked in the circumstances of the other woman’s illicit affair. The circumstances were different, but the frantic yearning was so much the same.
“It’s just another costume,” she said, running her hands over her body, needing the touch to soothe the flames rising inside her. “I want you to see who I really am. You’re the only one who can.”
No, no!! her own thoughts screamed, I’m not ready for this! I can’t let this thing get to me. Angel would totally freak if. . . But even as her mind screamed those words, her body betrayed her, tingling, dampening, coiling in a tight spring ready to burst.
Angel’s common sense was struggling with the straining of his soul and his demon, both wanting him to grab Cordelia and ravish her. Everything within him begged him to take her, to find solace in her, to fulfill the desires throbbing in him, but his common sense held him back. His eyes darted quickly to the bite in her neck, lingering there as saliva pooled in his mouth at the anticipation of tasting her, then he forced himself to look away.
“I—” he said, then stopped, at a loss for words. “This isn’t us,” he said, recognizing the presence of another desperate being pushing at his mind. Maybe these urgent feelings weren’t his doing. Maybe this was mystically inspired lust. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, one of his multiple personalities scoffed.
“Cordelia, we’re acting this out. Someone is—”
“Whoa,” Cordelia breathed, interrupting him, as her own psyche took control again, the other presence receding into the corner of her mind. “Did I actually just ask you to undress me?” she said in a light tone, hoping she’d just imagined it. Boy howdy, had she asked it, and it wasn’t just the ballerina mind-snatching that had made her feel that way.
Angel heard her, but felt the presence of the other man rush into his mind, taking over the control of his voice. He saw her there, the lover in his mind overcome with lust for his ballerina. That desire mixed and swirled with the longing of his own for Cordelia, and it was an intoxicating blend, causing his eyes to heat and his body to ready itself for joining with her.
“Is that what you want?” he said, drawing closer to her.
At the look in his eyes, the other woman’s psyche responded to her lover and took control of her again. Cordelia stepped closer to him, her mind filled with a longing for Angel that echoed the ballerina’s desire for her lover. “Please,” she said desperately.
“You want me to make love to you right here?” the other spoke in unison with Angel, his hand coming up to stroke the soft skin of her cheek.
“You know I do,” Cordelia and the ballerina answered together.
“But you’re afraid,” he whispered, their mouths brushing.
“What if he finds us?” the fear of the dancer swamped her, overpowering the yearning for a moment.
“I’m not afraid,” her lover vowed. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
She looked into his eyes, wanting to believe him, to feel safe with him, but in the end, it was the only the lust that drew their lips back together again, brushing, teasing, but never actually connecting.
“I’m only alive when you’re inside me,” the ballerina whispered through Cordelia’s lips, and Cordelia herself gasped at the thought. Angel, inside her. . . wow, brain overload right there. She didn’t have time to process it as Angel’s lips finally fused with hers, their mouths frantic, four people in two bodies with the lust among all magnified to a nearly impossible level. They kissed, a fiery passion of pain, need, desperation, and love, tongues searching, lips melding, hands roving as they desperately tried to cool the flames inside.
And suddenly, it was only them, only Angel and Cordelia, and everything else faded away.
The firestorm of Angel’s kiss devoured her. It was heat and passion, desperation in a physical manifestation. All she could think about was getting closer, getting nearer, getting further into him, under his skin until they were meshed into one person and couldn’t ever be separated. His lips pressed against hers, moving gently one moment and fiercely the next, tasting her as if she were a delicacy that could only be experienced once in a lifetime.
In his arms, she felt cherished and desired. She felt as if she were the substance he needed to survive, the nourishment that replenished his soul. All with the touch of his mouth to hers, he made her feel like she was the only thing that kept him falling apart.
They lost themselves in the kiss breathlessly until Cordelia’s hand came up to run through his hair and the cross necklace brushed his cheek. His skin sizzled and they jumped apart, Angel tenderly touching the burned skin.
“Cordelia,” he said hoarsely, trying to regain some of his composure.
“Yes,” she said, equally flustered, her eyes darting away from his.
“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling the need to apologize. God, his demon had almost come out. He’d nearly bitten her. His face had even shifted slightly as his demon fought for supremacy, the scent of the other vampire’s mark so close and begging to be obliterated by his own.
“No,” she answered, “We so need to be out of here,” she said, desperate to escape the feelings that threatened to consume her. She wanted him to claim her, right here, right now. She wanted it so badly that she ached with it. It was all she could do not to beg him to take over and erase Sebastian’s mark and replace it with his own.
“Yes,” he agreed, feeling the other pushing at his mind again, knowing that if he allowed it access again, Cordelia and he wouldn’t escape unscathed.
Unable to help themselves, they reached for each other again, touching and pulling away intermittently, Cordelia turning in his arms as she pulled him toward the door.
“This isn’t out of here,” she said breathlessly, trying to fight the pull of her lips toward his.
“I know,” he breathed back, not able to help the urge to reach up and stroke her hair, rubbing their hips against each other as they moved toward the exit. “All right.”
He turned her in his arms again, her mouth reaching for his, then turning her away and stopping just before the door. She leaned back into him, reaching her hand up to run behind his neck.
“Open the damn door,” she whispered, feeling the very thin edge of her control slipping.
“Kinda hard,” Angel groaned, reaching for the handle.
“Kinda noticed,” Cordy said, trying not to gasp at the delicious feel of his hard body pressed up against her backside as they escaped in to the hallway.
The moment they exited, they jumped apart like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
“Whoa,” Cordy said, feeling the presence leave her abruptly and some of her own control return. But not enough control, damn it. Much of that straining passion had been her own. Too much of it.
“That’s fair assessment,” Angel agreed, feeling somewhat more in control himself.
“What the hell is that place!” Cordelia said, wanting to blame all the heat of the last few moments on the enchantment of the room. Inside, she knew she was partly responsible. Even now, the wound on her neck throbbed, and she clenched her fists in an attempt to keep from reaching for him again. It was getting worse. She wanted him so badly that she was nearly insane with it. She had to control herself, or they would never get out of here in one piece.
“Spirits in there,” Angel explained, wanting to blame the lust on anything but his own feelings. It was true, but only partially. “Energy, trapped in time. It took us over.”
“Eee, scary!” Cordy breathed, knowing that with her own strained willpower, the lust of a horny ghost wasn’t going to help her at all. “Well, it’s a good thing it wears off right away,” she said, steadfastly ignoring the throbbing in her body and the dampness in places she didn’t want to think about right now.
Angel looked down at himself, then hastily removed his coat and held it in front of him, hiding the obvious response of his body to her nearness. “Yeah,” he said nonchalantly. “It’s a good thing.”
She looked back at him, noting the strategic placement of his coat, but wisely held back the comment she would’ve made if she hadn’t been so flustered herself.
“Let’s try to find a way out of here.” Her voice was determined as she turned away, and Angel strode past her and walked down the seemingly endless corridor.
As she followed him down the hallway, an amazing, crazy thought struck Cordelia: maybe, just maybe, if he did actually claim her, she could start to feel normal again.
Because really, if he did, then all this lust would be relieved. If she just slept with him once, the novelty would wear off, and she’d be free. The wound would heal and she’d be able to get on with her life. She’d get him out of her system, once and for all.
But how could she convince him to go back in there when it was so obviously a bad idea? She walked behind him silently, now absolutely convinced that this was the best solution to her problem. She thought over the scene they’d just played in the dressing room, until genius struck her again and she stopped him.
“Damn it,” she said, trying to put on a convincing spontaneous tone. “I said something. Back in that room. Something important. Do you remember?” She pointed behind her, looking at him with a question in her eyes, every inch the determined detective, the lusty hormones firmly hidden.
“Ah,” Angel looked uncomfortable. “You’re only alive when I’m. . .”
She quickly interrupted him. “Not that!” It wouldn’t do for him to get too worked up about the craziness of it all. She had to convince him they were going back for the case. Only then could she get him to unleash his demon and give her what she wanted, what she craved.
“No,” he hastily agreed. “Of course not. I was just, ah, Oh! Hey! I said you were afraid!”
“And I said, ‘what if he finds us?’”
“She had a secret lover,” Angel deduced, now firmly back in detective mode, just where she wanted him. Now was the time to reel him in.
“They were afraid of someone. And I’ll bet you anything that someone is the reason why were stuck here. We left too soon.”
Immediately, she could see the caution spring up in his eyes. “We. . . who? The room?” he said, obviously caught off guard.
“It’s a clue!” she said convincingly. “Those spirits, or energy, or whatever, are still in there so we can figure out what happened! We have to go back in!” God, she was good!
Angel wasn’t buying it quickly enough for her liking. “I’m marveling at the wrongness of that idea.”
Why couldn’t he just follow her like a little lost puppy? That would make this so much easier. Fine. Time for some prodding in the right direction. “Wanna wander around backstage like Spinal Tap for the next . . . Ever?” she said, making his denial sound ludicrous.
“I’m sure there are other rooms that. . .” Angel tried to divert her attention, but she was more determined than ever.
“All we have to do is play this scene,” she said, her face earnest. “Get in, get out, no one gets happy.”
“What if there is no more talking in this scene?” he said, and she smiled inwardly. There wouldn’t be if she could help it. But he wasn’t done. “Look, I’ve been possessed by the spirits of old lovers before. It never goes well.”
“Well, I’ve got my little cross if things get out of hand.” Not that she ever intended to use it. She nearly rolled her eyes as he continued to hesitate. God, what did it take? She sighed inaudibly. Looked like she was going to have to break out the big guns.
“Hey, it’s awkward, but it’s not us. As long as nothing gets removed or inserted, its all forgotten.” Okay, so now she was lying through her teeth, but she had to get him back in there. it was the only way she could see to relieve this burning that just wouldn’t go away. She had to have him, and if it meant lying and manipulation, so be it.
“It is us, Cordelia,” Angel said, his eyes serious. “You and me. Kissing you, its. . .” he trailed off.
Oh, no. This wasn’t going to work at all. The last thing she needed was for him to be emotionally attached to her right now. He couldn’t fall in love with her. He couldn’t. Because if he did, it wouldn’t stop with the claiming. No, it was better to let him think that she wasn’t interested, didn’t need him desperately. It would make the clean-up later on so much easier.
She ignored the screaming of her heart about the insanity of that line of thinking.
He wasn’t done. “It’s not something I can just—”
“Oh come on,” she said scathingly. “It’s not that horrible.” rolling her eyes, she turned away and walked back down the hall, muttering. “Up to his ass in demon gore, fine! But ask him to mack on a hottie and he wigs. My champion, ladies and gentlemen,” she said, gesturing back at him.
The rush of mystical energy as they entered the room gave them both a buzz.
Angel was nervous beyond belief to be back here. Being near Cordelia the first time in here had nearly shredded his control, and he wasn’t relishing a repeat performance. Not that he didn’t want to make love to her; he did, it was just that he feared that under the influence of the ballerina’s lover, he might not be able to control his demon. He’d barely held it together just minutes ago. Something told him that coming back in here was a big, bad mistake.
Beside him, Cordelia tried to calm her racing emotions. All she wanted to do was jump Angel and force him to bite her, but somehow, she didn’t think that would work out like she wanted. She had to go with the whole mystical energy bodysnatching thing, and then he’d take the bait. He had to. Because if he didn’t, she didn’t think she could go on like this much longer. Something had to alleviate this pressure, and she desperately wanted it to be Angel.
Angel’s question interrupted her thoughts. “Anything coming?”
She breathed deeply, trying to quell the nervousness, and paced a little bit. “Um. . . okay. Let’s take it from the middle. ‘I want you. Undress me.’” she said hastily, purposefully putting no romantic inflection in her voice. Best to keep him off balance. Thinking she was just annoyed.
Angel sounded equally unenthusiastic as he parroted his lines. “You want me to have sex now, with you, here.”
“Yeah,” she continued. “But I’m scared.”
“But you’re afraid,” he added.
“And afraid,” she agreed, and he nodded. “What if we—he—finds us.”
Angel grabbed her shoulders awkwardly and pulled her toward him. “I’m not afraid of anything,” he said, echoing the lover’s lines.
Oh, god, here was the best part. Maybe if she rushed through it, he wouldn’t see through her. “Only good inside, blah blah blah,” she said, rolling her eyes, and they kissed, a quick peck on the lips that was awkward and uncomfortable.
Cordelia sighed in frustration as the spirits left them alone, not feeling anything more than residual tingling from the touch of their lips together. Damn it. This might be harder than she’d thought.
Angel looked thoughtfully around the room. “Maybe it only works the one time, you know, when the energy—”
The ghosts had other ideas, the ballerina swamping Cordelia’s consciousness and she lunged for Angel, grabbing the back of his neck and fusing their lips together in a passionate kiss.
Geez, finally!
This time, the cross didn’t stop anything. It slipped from Cordelia’s fingertips mere moments after she and Angel pressed their lips together in a kiss that shattered them both. Against his mouth, Cordelia sighed with relief and melted into him. Now that she’d finally settled on what she was going to do about this bite that wouldn’t go away, all she could think about was how good it would feel to finally be back to normal. Angel’s tongue tangled with hers, and she whimpered at the taste of him, the sensation of kissing him making her want to melt into a puddle right onto the floor. But only after he claimed her.
Angel was struggling to keep control of the situation, but he could feel it slipping away like rope through a sweaty palm. Not only did he have to fight Angelus, something that was difficult enough under regular circumstances, but he also had to fight this Stephan, the ballerina’s lover who was invading his mind. Stephan fought for control, his lust overwhelming Angel and mixing with his own until he couldn’t figure out what were his own feelings and what weren’t.
Moments later found them on the chaise, Cordelia underneath Angel, her eyes closed in ecstasy as their bodies rubbed together in all the right places.
“Can he do this?” the lover inside Angel said, referring to their enemy, but it was the pressure of his hips against Cordelia’s that made her eyes cross and her breath catch in her throat. God, that felt so good!
Groaning, she couldn’t help but thrust back up against him, her head tilting back, her neck arching as she gasped for air. Angel eyed the long, smooth expanse of her throat, the twin puncture wounds staring up at him, beckoning him. Angelus was pressuring him to go for it, to sink his teeth into her supple skin and taste the blood that was sure to be intoxicating. His soul was silent, the lack of protest an acquiescence in and of itself. But still, part of him held back, even as he plundered her. Even as he lost himself in the taste of her mouth.
Cordelia pulled back, gasping, feeling the ballerina’s essence leave her as she looked up at Angel. As she became herself again, she was amazed to discover that the arousal within her increased, multiplied, magnified until she could barely look at Angel without exploding. He loomed above her, his eyes dark, flashes of gold in the onyx depths, his face strained with the pressure of maintaining control.
“Cordy—” he said, but she brought a finger up to his lips and stopped him.
“Shhh, Angel, we haven’t figured it out yet. Just go with it. Please,” she begged, needing him back, needing him inside her.
After a moment of brief struggle with himself, Angel complied, bringing his lips to her jaw, then skipping her neck and going to her chest, moving down her body and pulling the dress away from her, exposing her to his view. He lingered near her navel, tasting, touching, stroking, until she panted with the heat he was generating inside of her. He steadfastly ignored the places that screamed for his touch, focusing only on the zones that were normally not hypersensitive.
But right now, everything was sensitive to him. Frustrated that Angel wasn’t speeding things up, Cordelia took matters into her own hands. Literally. She reached her palm down his torso, pulling open his shirt, shoving the jacket from his shoulders and baring his chest to her hungry eyes. She barely had his upper half uncovered before one hand delved beneath the waistband of his pants to stroke the hard length of him, earning a growl that vibrated against her and brought goosebumps to her skin.
She watched the struggle play on his face, watched as his irises flashed little gold flecks, as his jaw tensed and flexed. She could see that he was struggling against his demon, that it was taking every ounce of his willpower not to turn before her eyes. In that moment, she knew exactly what to do to push him over the edge, to push him to give in to his demon and claim her.
She smiled up at him, a soft, seductive expression that taunted him in its blatant invitation. Slowly, she reached both hands up and clasped them behind his head, gripping the soft spikiness of his hair and pulling his mouth back down to hers. She kissed him slowly, languidly, as if he were a gourmet piece of chocolate that she wanted to savor until it melted away on her tongue. He growled and thrust against her, making her jaw slacken and her mouth still for a moment, only to resume with greater fervor.
Angel lost himself in Cordelia as he allowed her complete control over their kiss. If he’d been able to form a coherent thought, he would’ve been struck by the revelation that he’d been an idiot for delaying this moment. Having her in his arms was the closest to bliss he’d ever gotten, and that was saying something. His life was full of disappointments and disillusionment. But here, with Cordelia, he found the kind of happiness that only comes along once in a century. He had the sudden urge to grab a hold of her and never let go, never let her escape. His arms tightened around her, working under her back until she lay arched across his forearms, her head tilted back so that he had to reach to keep their lips in contact.
Cordelia let him get comfortable with the unhurried pace of the kiss until he let down his guard and relaxed. Only then did she play her trump card. She stroked the tip of her tongue against the line of his gums where his sharp teeth were hidden from view. The response was instantaneous: a low growl rumbled through his chest, almost a purr, and he tightened his grip around her. She smiled slightly against his mouth and kept up her gentle assault. Only when he reached his tongue into her mouth to do the same did she act: she bit his tongue. Hard.
This time, the growl was louder. He pulled back from her sharply, his now golden eyes staring down into her hazel ones. He panted with breath he didn’t need, and the demon in him screamed for release. The soul struggled to hold him back, but Angelus felt the weakness, and came out to play, knowing that the soul wasn’t in any situation to stop him.
“Baby likes it rough, huh?” he grinned wickedly, his golden eyes sparkling at her, his face rippling, then changing, his forehead wrinkling as the ridges slid into prominence, his teeth elongating and enhancing his smile.
Cordy gasped as she watched the transformation. He was beautiful this way, and it took her breath away. It was like watching day turn into night; no less beautiful, but so different. So dark and deadly, so powerful, but gorgeous enough to be sinful.
She smiled smugly up at him and arched her back, rubbing her pelvis against his, feeling the satisfaction spread through her as his eyes nearly crossed with the increase in pressure.
“You bet baby likes it rough,” she whispered back. “I need you, Angel. I need you to take me. All of me.”
He growled low in his chest, a thunderous rumble that sent shivers of delight up her spine. He dipped his head, his mouth running down her cheek, her jaw, and along the slope of her neck until he was hovering over Sebastian’s mark, lightly tasting it, grazing his teeth over it, but still hesitating.
Cordelia rolled her eyes in abject frustration. God, what did it TAKE? She’d thrown herself at him in every way possible, and still, he hesitated before biting her. He WAS a vampire, right? Geez, the things girls have to do on their own these days.
Time to take matters into her own hands. She tilted her head slightly, finding the edge of his shoulder, and opened her mouth. With no warning, she bit down. Hard.
The roar that Angel let loose as he felt her teeth sink into his skin was enough to wake the dead. As almost a reflex action, his head snapped up and he snarled at her, thrusting his hips roughly against hers. He grabbed her hands, pulling them high above her head and keeping them there, securing both wrists with one big palm so that his other hand was free. He reached down between them, yanking her skirt up to her waist and freeing himself from the confines of his pants in one quick, jerky movement.
In the space of a heartbeat, Angel thrust and slid inside, deeper and deeper until she felt as though he was going to tear her in two. He was so big.
But god, it felt good. Her eyes rolled back into her head as a thousand tiny stars burst behind her eyelids, and she knew she wasn’t done yet. He started a rhythm, hitting all the right places until her body was quivering mass of nerves.
Moments later, she burst, her orgasm shattering her until a million pieces. She cried out, arching against him, panting, as she came down off a high that was unlike any other she’d experienced.
After the haze cleared, she opened her eyes, focusing on the strain that was still present on his features. He hadn’t come yet, and she knew it wasn’t over. He was nuzzling her neck, growling as he rocked against her, licking at the wounds even as his body invaded hers. She felt him throbbing inside of her, the reality of her decision suddenly dousing her like ice water. Her eyes widened as she realized just what she’d orchestrated, and she panicked. God, Angel was inside of her. Angel was going to BITE her.
What kind of looney was she?
There was no time to back out now. Angel’s teeth scraped her, lightly scoring her skin, bringing blood to the surface that tantalized his demon’s picky tastebuds. He took a swipe of the barely-there fluid, his eyes nearly crossing at the ambrosia of it on his tongue. Angelus was giddy, drunk on the sexual high mixed with bloodlust.
He pierced her skin, just faintly, not noticing Cordelia’s gasp, then sliding the fangs deep into her skin like pins sliding through satin. Immediately, her rich, thick blood poured over his tongue, bathing him in her spicy taste. He fought back the urge to gulp greedily, lapping up every drop as though it were priceless. He took just enough, carefully extricating his fangs until he was free, and swallowed convulsively. He darted his tongue out, preparing to seal the wounds with his scent, sealing his claim on her for all time.
He didn’t get the chance.
Two inhumanly strong hand grasped the waistband of his pants and yanked him off and away from Cordelia. The last thing he saw before a fist met his face was the creepily white, contorted face of Tragedy dressed in a tuxedo.
Part 5
