Choice and Consequences | By : QueenB Category: Angel the Series > Slash - Male/Male > Angel(us)/Lindsey > Angel(us)/Lindsey Views: 2642 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Angel: The Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Lindsey is halfway to the airport when his cell phone rings again. He scans the number before placing it to his ear. “Francis? Where the hell were you? I was trying to get in touch with you earlier.”
“I know, I know. But I was in a meeting with the other seers when my phone went off. I have it set on vibrate so no one knows I’m getting messages.” Francis sounds smug as if he thinks he’s being clever.
Lindsey watches the street signs flash past his window as the taxi driver makes a right turn. “I’m still not getting why you couldn’t pick up the phone for three hours.”
“Uh, remember that other seer I told you about? That asshole Eugene Zacks? He was there when I got the latest vision from you. I think he followed me to the bathroom.”
“So? I told you, Mr. Gumm, internecine squabbles between you and other employees are not my concern. You’re going to have to handle this guy on your own.” Lindsay hasn’t informed Francis about his own former association with Wolfram & Hart so he can’t tell the other man how trivial his concerns are. He remembers all the jockeying he had to do when he worked at W&H just to keep his head above water. The shark-infested waters he had to swim through make any tussles Gumm has with his co-workers look like pillow fights.
“I know that. I’m just saying he’s suspicious about my sudden success as a seer. So I’m trying to keep him from connecting any mysterious phone calls with me making sudden exits. He’s been watching me and we’ve been stuck together in a meeting about this prophecy involving the Nyazian scrolls. Mr. Wyndham-Pryce has got a bug up his ass about them for some reason—”
“Mr. Gumm, skip all that and get to the part where I care. Wait a minute.” The taxi has stopped and Lindsey has to juggle the phone while he pays the man. Thank goodness for having two working hands.
The man’s voice is wounded and a little whiny. “Sorry if my problems are boring you. It’s just you said you wanted to know anything involving the office and I thought the Nyazian scrolls would interest you.”
Lindsey sighs. “Mr. Gumm.”
Now the voice on the other end turns sullen. “Anyway, this was the first time I could get away without arousing suspicion. I’m home now and when I saw your number I called you right away.” Now Francis is interested again. “What’s happened? Is it another vision?”
“Yes and no.” Lindsey slings his traveling bag with all the packed clothes across his back and carries the guitar case with its precious cargo in his other hand.
“What do you mean? Which is it? You never call unless you have a vision. It is a vision, isn’t it?”
“It’s the same vision, the one I gave you last night.” Lindsey walks into the airport, glancing at the ETAs and ETDs on the flashing screens above him. He’s in luck. Lots of planes travel to Los Angeles at any time of the year and the weather has been really fine. Therefore, his flight will leave in the next half hour.
“The same vision? How can that be?”
“I don’t know; that’s why I called you. Didn’t you deliver my most recent vision to Mr. Angel?”
Gumm sounds evasive. “I did. Funny thing about that. H-he didn’t seem too interested.”
The ex-lawyer narrows his eyes. “Not interested? That doesn’t sound like Angel—like the Mr. Angel you’ve told me about.” Damn, that was a stupid slip, the kind he’d never have made back when he was at the top of his game with Wolfram & Hart.
Fortunately, Francis is too thick or caught up in his own problems to care. “Yeah, I was just as surprised as you. But he said since the kid wasn’t hurt and the parents haven’t come knocking on the W&H door, it’s not really his business. I started thinking about that. Maybe he’s right. I mean, if the boy wasn’t killed, what’s the big deal?”
“What’s the big deal? That’s not for you to decide, Francis. The visions are sent to me and I doubt that the Powers who decide such things would trouble me with crippling migraines just so you could decide which visions are and aren’t important.” Lindsey pauses and lets a touch of ice drip into his voice. “If you’re tired of our partnership, I can always call this off and find another seer who won’t make these kind of judgment calls on his own.”
“No! That’s okay. I don’t want to stop what we’ve been doing, it’s just…” He pauses for a moment and Lindsey can almost hear him gulp. “I tried to push this last vision, I really did, Mr. Smith. But Mr. Angel told me to let it go and you should have heard him. He sounded really hostile. I was actually scared for my life.”
Lindsey snorts. “Mr. Angel wouldn’t kill you.”
“I’m not so sure about that. You didn’t see his face. The stories I’ve heard about Angelus—”
“Angelus isn’t a problem unless Mr. Angel loses his soul. Everybody knows that,” Lindsey interrupts sharply. He pauses and asks in a quieter voice, “Angelus isn’t a problem—is he?”
“No. Everybody knows the danger. The secretaries think he’s hot stuff, all right, although I don’t get it myself.” Mr. Gumm gets the slightly stuffy tone of a man who resents the sexual conquests of other men. “But they pretty much stay away from him. So we know he’s not getting any sex—not from them, at any rate.”
It’s not a sex curse; Lindsey could testify to that. Whatever Angel had experienced with him, it hadn’t been anything close to true happiness. He stifles the gloomy regret he always feels when he thinks of that to focus on what Mr. Gumm is telling him now.
“There’s this girl called Nina, though.”
“Who?” The sudden flare of jealousy takes him by surprise even as he braces himself for Gumm’s answer.
“A cute short blonde who came to W&H for help. Turns out she’s a werewolf. “
“A werewolf?” Well, Wolfram & Hart has dealt with stranger clients; he’s not overly concerned with that. But short, cute blonds tend to be Angel’s type. Darla, that Slayer girl whose picture he’d noted in Wolfram & Hart’s files. He’d sometimes thought he heard more than envy when Spike talked about the brunette vampire…
“She keeps coming every 28 days to get locked up in a special cage to keep her from tearing into the local populace. The gals think she’s got a thing for Mr. Angel. She keeps wearing these tight outfits like she’s going on a date. Mr. Angel doesn’t seem to notice, though.”
“Oh. That’s good. I mean, it’s good that he’s sticking to work. He can’t afford romantic entanglements just now especially with a client.”
“Why not? It’s not like we’ve got anything pressing on the horizon. I wouldn’t say no to a romantic entanglement myself,” Francis mutters.
“Back to the business at hand,” Lindsey says, his tone brisk. “The vision came to me again.”
“It did? That happen often?”
“Never before. That’s what makes me think this vision is too vital to be ignored. What reason did Mr. Angel give when he told you to forget about it?” Lindsey is heading towards the exit gate. He’ll be in the air soon, speeding towards Los Angeles, and the excitement brought on by imminent travel is coupled with the thought that very shortly he’ll see Angel again.
“He didn’t give a reason. He just went total Mr. Freeze the moment I mentioned the kid’s name. He told me to let it go and, if you’d seen him, you’d know he meant it. I-I really don’t think I can go back to him, Mr. Smith. It’s just—the way he looked. I’m sorry. It’s no good pushing this vision if it’s going to cost me my job or my life. I like walking around with a whole skin.”
“Fine. Don’t worry about it then,” Lindsey replies. An automated voice comes over the loudspeakers announcing the flight departure. Lindsey claps his hand over his phone but Francis has heard it.
“What was that?”
He’s not about to tell Francis about his coming to Los Angeles. The man might panic and do something stupid. “Nothing. Don’t concern yourself with the vision, Mr. Gumm.”
“Really? But I thought you said it was important.”
“It is. But it’s no longer your concern.”
“But—”
“Forget it, Mr. Gumm.” Lindsey closes the cell phone. It’s time to board and he has no intention of being late.
__________
Francis looks at his cell phone and dials it again. There is no answer in spite of repeated attempts. He’s not sure what’s going on and, as someone who’s supposed to predict the future, he hates any kind of uncertainty. Mr. Smith’s warning just now has thrown him into a cold sweat and he’s desperate for assurance that it was just an idle threat. And what was that about boring? Boarding? What’s going on?
Francis stops dialing after a while and slumps into his Stickley armchair. If the other seers could see him now, they’d think he really deserved his nickname. It didn’t take a revelation for him to sense that things were about to change—and not for the better.
__________
Lindsey stares sightlessly out the window. He recalls the last time he was in a plane. It had been daylight then, the bright Californian light shafting through the window before he’d closed it. It’s night now and, in a few hours, he’ll be in L.A.
He draws a deep breath. He hasn’t thought much about what he’ll do when he gets there. He’ll check into a hotel, of course. He has no intention of staying so an apartment will be out of the occasion. It’ll have to be a cheap hotel, though; he can’t afford anything too pricey.
He’ll have to see Angel. Francis Gumm may be too scared to confront the vampire but Lindsey has no such qualms. However, it’ll mean he has to come clean about the visions; there’s no other way to explain what he’s doing back in L.A. so soon after his last departure.
Angel had told him to get rid of the power of the visions. But, once Lindsey learned what the price of their removal meant, he realized it was impossible. He only hopes Angel won’t waste much time in useless guilt over it before they deal with—
The revelation claws at his brain so that he arches in his seat. He cries out from the pain before collapsing back into the padded cushions.
The vision is chaotic and confused, with screams of terror and shock as the demons attack their innocent victims. He sees the door of an SUV ripped off its hinges before the demon responsible reaches for the terrified young man inside. There is a glimpse of the car’s other two occupants, a screaming man and woman Lindsey recognizes from his previous prophecy. The demons swarm over the car breaking the windows before grabbing at them as well.
The vision is mercifully short but leaves Lindsey shaking with the aftermath nonetheless. The woman in the seat beside him is staring at him, her mouth gaping. “Mister, are you all right?”
“Uh, yeah. Give me a moment.” He rubs his hand over his face, squeezing back the tears. Wow, the pain had been downright wicked. The worst part was how lacking in detail it had been. The images had tumbled over each other, giving no decisive clue as to where this will happen. He hadn’t been able to get a clear look at the demons either.
Shit, the flight attendant has come over and is staring at him. “Is everything all right here?”
The woman points a finger at him. “I don’t think so. This guy was having a fit or something.”
“It’s all right. I just have, uh, epilepsy.”
Maybe that wasn’t the best choice in fake illnesses. Now the both of them are staring in alarm. The stewardess, a middle-aged brunette, frowns worriedly. “Sir, do you need to get off the plane? We ‘re making a brief stopover in Arizona. Perhaps you should disembark while we radio ahead for a doctor.”
“No! I mean, that’s not necessary. I’ll just take my medicine.” The Oklahoman flashes the two ladies an ingratiating smile. His fellow passenger returns it uncertainly, half-won over by his southern charm.
The flight attendant is unimpressed. “Sir, if you’re really ill, the plane can’t take off again with you aboard. We’ll have to insist on your leaving in Arizona.”
“I’ll be fine. The attacks aren’t that frequent, I swear.” He fumbles for his aspirin bottle, willing his hands not to shake in front of the wary stewardess. She eyes him for a moment longer before leaving to check on the other passengers.
Lindsey smiles again at the other woman. If he has another vision, he’s going to need her to cover for him. So he turns on the full extent of his down-home charisma. “So where are you headed?”
Using the skills honed by many years as an attorney, he draws out the other woman, a Grace Viscott, widow, and learns that she’s traveling to L.A. to visit her sister. Her sister is getting married—”finally!”—to a charming if somewhat unorthodox holistic healer and Grace has been invited to the wedding. She expects the whole clan to be there, sisters, brothers, cousins, uncles, aunts, significant others and assorted hangers-on. All in all, there should be no less than 120+ people at the gathering.
As she talks, Lindsey marvels sadly to himself how easily other people can be happy. This woman’s kinfolk almost certainly have the usual assortment of crooks, losers, hotheads and black sheep as any family. Also, the large get-together will most certainly feature quite a few fights and hostile outbreaks as old grievances get stirred up again. But she’s actually thrilled to be seeing them again.
He can’t help but wish he had this with his family. He’d sent home money from Wolfram & Hart to help them whenever he could spare it. But it wasn’t the same as closeness. He’d kept his doings with the law firm from them and, even though he is no longer associated with his former place of employment, between him and his family lies a gulf of silence that he fears even time won’t allow him to bridge.
“Do you have somebody, Lindsey?”
He blinks. “What?”
Grace is eyeing him avidly, pale green eyes twinkling from between prominent laugh lines. “Do you have somebody special in your life? Are you married?”
“No, I’m—” He hesitates. Grace seems like a nice woman. But she might be less than understanding if Lindsey confesses that he’s bisexual. “I’m single.”
“Really? A nice, handsome young man like you? Oh, that’s a shame. Well, don’t worry.” She pats his hand in a matronly fashion. “I’m sure you’ll find somebody.” She brightens as a thought occurs to her. “Would you like to come to the wedding with me?”
He’s startled by the offer. “Me? But I’m a stranger. You don’t really know me.”
She waves her hand, dismissing his feeble objection. “Nonsense. I think I’m a pretty good judge of character. Besides, my aunt’s cousin’s boyfriend is bringing his sister and I think she’d be perfect for you.”
“I’d love to. But I’m visiting someone in L.A.—he’s a nephew. He was involved in a hit-and-run accident and I have to see him before—things become worse.” Another W&H trick: telling lies mixed in with truths to paint a very different picture from reality.
She’s clearly disappointed but is willing to be sympathetic. “Oh, that’s horrible. I-is he is real danger?”
“I think so. That’s why I have to get to L.A. and my journey doesn’t allow for any side-trips, I’m afraid.”
She pats his hand again. “I’m so sorry to hear that.” He smiles at her and they engage in more casual chatter until she falls asleep. Freed from her at last, he settles back into the narrow economy seat.
He desperately wants to get in touch with Francis about this latest vision. They don’t permit cell phone use on planes but, if he sneaks it into the bathroom, he’s unlikely to get caught. But cell phone reception would be spotty at best at this elevation and any frequent loss of communication might make the other man jumpy. Besides, the events shown in the vision haven’t happened yet. He’s learned to tell the difference between events unfolding as he sees them and ones that will occur in the immediate future.
Connor Reilly and his parents haven’t been attacked yet. But it will happen soon. He has to get to Angel before then.
__________
The hotel room is cheap but serviceable. He’s only going to be in town a short while; no need to be picky.
Lindsey takes a quick bath before putting on his pajamas. He’s been making up and discarding speeches in his head ever since making the decision to come to Los Angeles. So far he can’t think of a thing that doesn’t sound accusing about the radio silence the souled vampire has been maintaining. Maybe he should just stick to talking about Connor.
He has to see Angel first thing in the morning; that’s crucial. Angel is staying at the penthouse suite in the W&H building; he could go to him right now. But to confront Angel alone in his living quarters when Lindsey was tired from his flight was not a smart idea. It would be too easy for the conversation to veer off business and into the area of…other things. At the thought of Angel’s “thing” his own starts stirring in his pants.
Lindsey looks down at his twitching member. He doesn’t want to go to Angel reeking of sex. But whether he beats off or not, he’s going to be horny again just from seeing the demon. He grabs “little” Lindsey. “Might as well get this over with.”
That problem eased, Lindsey switches off the light and lies down on the mattress, drawing the thin sheet over himself. The noises from the street are loud and intrusive. But it’s the recognizable sound of Los Angeles in all its beautiful, vibrant, brutal splendor.
Lindsey closes his eyes and drifts off as if to a lullaby.
__________
The receptionist is shaking her head. “I’m sorry. You can’t just walk in to see Mr. Angel unless it’s on official legal business or you have an appointment.”
“It is official business.” Lindsey wishes he’d worn a suit. They gave him an air of authority that few receptionists were willing to question. In fact, he probably could have marched right past this woman and she wouldn’t have given him a second glance. However, he’d sold the ones he had from Wolfram & Hart. They weren’t the kind of thing one wore to job interviews about country music singing gigs. He thinks rapidly. “Is the other vampire with him?”
The receptionist raises her eyebrows. “Who? Spike? Did he wreck something of yours? I know he drives the company cars a little recklessly but Wolfram & Hart will be happy to compensate you for any damage. Wait a minute.” Her brows wrinkle. “Did he save your girlfriend and then proposition her? We can’t help you with that if she’s claiming emotional trauma. That’s something you’ll have to take up with him personally. But I should warn you; he throws a mean punch.”
Lindsey maintains a total lack of expression while the blonde secretary babbles at him. This must be Harmony; he’d never met her but Spike had described her as a chatty, empty-headed cow. His description was right on the money. “I just want to know if he’s here.”
“Him? Naw. He never gets in before 10 a.m. Vampire, creature of the night and all that. God forbid he should get up early like the rest of us.”
That’s good news. Lindsey doesn’t want to alert the peroxided jerk to his presence if he can help it—not yet. He realizes meeting the other vampire will be inevitable the longer he’s in L.A. But he wants to get his encounter with Angel out of the way first. Although he wants to take up with Angel where they left off, all that can wait until the current crisis is resolved and the best way to keep things uncomplicated is to keep Spike at arm’s length as long as possible.
“Then let Mr. Angel know I’m here about Connor Reilly,” he suggests confidently. Mr. Gumm’s description of his meeting with Angel mentioned the souled vampire’s total turnabout in behavior when he’d heard Connor’s name spoken out loud. Maybe another mention will be enough to spur Angel into meeting with him.
Harmony snaps the gum in her mouth while she dials up Angel. “Angel? Yeah, there’s someone here to see you. About Connor Reilly.” She pauses a moment. “What’s his name? Oh, I didn’t ask.” She covers the phone. “What’s your name?”
“Tell him it’s an old friend from out of town. The important thing is that I’m here about Connor.” He doesn’t want this talkative woman telling Spike his name when the vampire finally makes an appearance. He doesn’t know how much Angel told Spike about their sex-filled night together or whether Angel ever corrected the dyed vamp about his fake identity. Better safe than sorry.
Harmony shrugs and repeats the message. She listens a moment longer while her jaw continues to work on the gum. Her high-pitched voice holds surprise when she turns to Lindsey again. “He says to come right up.” She gives him the floor and room number.
Just before he sets off, he turns to Harmony. “By the way, I’d appreciate it if you informed Angel when Spike is coming. That way we can wrap up any business we have quickly before he interrupts.”
“Can do.” He smiles cheekily and she flutters her lashes at him. If she weren’t a vampire, she’d be just like any other blond chippie from down home—available and easy. Then again, that’s probably exactly what she is—something most vampires have in common. And hopefully she’ll give him an ample head start when Spike finally shows.
Lindsey gets off the elevator. Outwardly he is the picture of calm. Being in Wolfram & Hart again is like being on home ground but without the underlying tension that was always there once he knew what he’d let himself in for by joining their ranks. It steadies his nerves somewhat.
But as he nears Angel’s office, he can feel his scar awaken and start tingling. The sensation gets stronger until it’s like a humming all over his skin. The knowing of Angel’s presence, something that he’d noted on previous times when they’d bumped heads, also seizes him. He wonders if Angel can feel him the same way.
Angel opens the door before he reaches it. The shock on his face is priceless. Lindsey grins and then laughs out loud. “Surprise.”
“Lindsey?” Now the shock in his brown eyes disappears to be replaced by lust so strong Lindsey swears he could smell it. Before he can react, Angel grabs him by the shirt and pulls him into the office. He slams Lindsey against the wall beside the door just before kicking the door shut. Then he presses against the ex-lawyer and kisses him hard.
Lindsey gasps and then moans as those cold lips pry at his. The agile tongue sweeps in, laving and massaging his own. One of Angel’s thighs is grinding between his legs and Lindsey is instantly erect. He grabs at Angel’s shoulders, drawing him closer, desperate to feel more of the vampire’s hard body.
He can feel Angel’s hard-on digging into his thigh; Lindsey arches, pressing his own erection against the vampire’s. Angel growls, the thrumming vibrating against his lips and cold hands sweep down Lindsey’s back to grip his ass. The vampire sets up a rhythmic hunching motion and Lindsey wonders if Angel means to screw him right here.
While Lindsey is beyond glad that Angel still wants him, this wanton hunger is puzzling. It seems out of character for Angel to be so—uninhibited in public with other office workers walking past the door. But Lindsey can’t bring himself to care. When the vampire lets him up to breathe, Lindsey licks his swollen lips and whispers, “Well, I guess that translates into being glad to see me.”
Angel steps away. The lust has melted away to be replaced by the familiar guilt. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, Lindsey.”
“You are? But I thought, just now…” The hurt is inescapable and Lindsey’s heart feels as if it’s in a vise. Damn, he’d thought Angel really wanted him. But the vampire has been distant and uncommunicative since the Oklahoman last left L.A. Why should that have changed all of a sudden just because Lindsey showed up?
“Oh, I’m glad to see you. It’s just…” Angel runs a hand through the spiky haircut. “We’ve got a werewolf on the premises and it’s, well, it’s her time of month.”
Lindsey frowns. What does that have to do with anything? “For her to change into her wolf form? I met a few lycanthropes when I worked here. I know how that works.” Then he realizes. It’s that Nina woman. Angel was thinking of her just now and Lindsey just happened to walk in on it. The dark-haired demon only latched on to the man because he was a convenient substitute.
Angel senses the anger and pain in the other man and wonders what’s causing it. “Well, that’s partially it. She’s changing into her wolf form later—and she’s also in heat.”
“Oh.” He still doesn’t get it. Then it hits him. “OH. And you can smell that.” So that’s it. Angel wasn’t turned on by him. It was another beast on the premises that has him so riled up.
Angel’s face is a study in embarrassment. “Yeah, and it’s affecting me a little.”
“Only a little, Angel?” Lindsey mutters. “It felt to me a minute ago as if you were going to fuck me into the wall.” He stalks away stiffly to stare at the vampire from the other side of the room. “So…what? I walk in on you while you’re stroking off and you think you can use me to relieve the tension?” Lindsey snarls.
Angel’s eyes widen. Now he understands. Years of closing himself off from humans means he often ignores their feelings. But he usually doesn’t misunderstand them. “Lindsey, I’m a vampire. I can smell arousal and it affects me—like deer musk affects wolves. But I wasn’t about to go pouncing on just anybody who walked through the door.
“That kiss and everything else just now—that was all for you.” He stalks over to Lindsey and leans over the man, resting one large hand on the wall above Lindsey’s shoulder. This close, Lindsey can see the passion blazing in those eyes. Angel is sincere and, judging by the way his other hand sweeps down Lindsey’s chest, still hungry for him.
“Okay, Angel. I believe you. But you can’t blame me for being skeptical. I step in to say hello and you pounce. I just wondered whether I had anything to do with it.”
“I believe I told you, Lindsey. It’s never a good idea to surprise a vampire,” Angel growls. But the sound is affectionate like a greeting from a full-grown pet Doberman.
Lindsey grins uncertainly. “But I thought you liked this surprise. You liked the other one.”
Angel grins back. He also seems to read Lindsey’s lingering fear. “But I really do want you. It’s not just the wolf hormones talking.”
“Oh. Glad to hear it.” Angel has always been hard to read, managing to project need and menace in a single moment. But his opacity can be still frustrating as hell, especially to one who’s been fighting off his human horniness since getting up this morning.
He takes the opportunity to look at the vampire. The morning light from the window is curling over his shoulder and Lindsey’s breath catches. Spike had told him about the necro-tempered windows. But it’s still a revelation to see Angel in the sunlight.
The light tints the spiky black hair, creating a nimbus around his head, and outlines the burly form with golden tendrils. Without shadows to melt in, Angel looks bigger, his outline clearer and sharper than Lindsey’s ever seen. His paleness is more noticeable, too, set off by the dark suit. There is less evidence of the demon and more of the man who stirs him with just a single penetrating glance.
Angel notices his stare. “What? Is it the windows? Yeah, it took me awhile to get used to them.” He stares at the treated panes and grimaces. “I’m still not quite sure I trust them.”
“I know. It’s kinda—”
“Weird. Yeah.”
“Yeah. You look good, though,” Lindsey adds hastily.
Angel wants to make the same comment. Lindsey had been pale before on their last meeting. Now his skin has a nice tan and it’s natural not something acquired in a salon. He hasn’t lost the fine muscle tone he had previously. He’s still handsome and sexy as hell.
But there are faint shadows beneath his eyes and he looks—tired. Still…the vampire hears his heart rate increase slightly, smells the spike in Lindsey’s lust-tinged scent.
Then something occurs to the vampire. “Wait. Harmony mentioned—”
“—An old friend from out of town. That would be me.”
“Then why didn’t you let me know you were coming?”
“I thought you had plenty of clues about when I was cumming.” Lindsey is gratified to see the vampire grin at the line, one he’d given to Lindsey on their previous encounter. Angel obviously remembers and he’s pleased the memory is a happy one.
Then Angel pulls away, his warm smile gone and his face shuttered and wary. “Wait just a sec. Harmony said you were here to talk about Connor Reilly. How do you know about the Reilly case? And what business is it of yours, anyway?”
Lindsey shrugs. “The answer’s the same to both. I’ve been getting visions of him being hit by a van. So I decided to fly in and tell you about it personally.”
Concern springs into those somber eyes. “You’re still getting the visions? Lindsey, I thought we’d discussed this. You were supposed to get rid of them.”
“I know, Angel. I tried. I couldn’t find the auctioneer who originally sold them to me, not in the limited time I had in Los Angeles after we—after we saw each other.”
“But, surely, even in Oklahoma, there are people involved in the spiritual world. Couldn’t you contact any of them?”
Lindsey nods. “I know, I know. I checked out the usual places and then went to the unusual places. I placed phone calls and even went on the Internet looking for people who dealt in this sort of thing.”
“And?”
“The answer was pretty much the same wherever I went. I can’t pass the visions on to anyone else unless I’m dying or in danger of it.” His face is turned away from Angel but his voice is flat as if discussing a legal brief.
Angel whispers, “God, Lindsey.” The vampire moves closer, his arm reaching out to brush Lindsey’s hair from his face.
Lindsey shivers at that touch and then resumes his stoical expression. “Hey, it’s like the auctioneer told me. No refunds, no returns. Guess he meant it too. Maybe if I’d ask more questions before I bought the damned visions, this wouldn’t have happened. You’d think I’d learned my lesson about accepting supernatural gifts.” He holds up his right hand and laughs dryly.
Angel isn’t buying this apathetic attitude. He draws Lindsey close and hugs him tightly. “I’m so sorry.”
Lindsey gives a deep sigh as he nestles into that embrace. It’s strange how warm Angel can make him feel even though his hands are so chilly. “Look, Angel, I’m trying to be manly about this. I haven’t given in to self-pity. I really couldn’t take it from you.”
“T-that’s not it, Lindsey.” He draws back to look down into that set face. This close up he can see the signs of strain and weariness as if the Oklahoman has been going on adrenalin alone. “This is all my fault. You got these visions for me.”
“Oh, so not pity. Just good old-fashioned Angel guilt. You’re right; I got them for you.” The remorse in those penetrating eyes deepens. Lindsey lays his hand alongside that eternally handsome face. “But you didn’t suggest this. This wasn’t your stupid idea. It was mine because I wanted you so badly and was too stubborn to come up with any better plan than getting these visions and fucking another vampire just to feel close to you. So get it through that thick skull of yours. This isn’t your fault.”
The sorrow isn’t going away. Why should they just from a few well-chosen words? So Lindsey quits talking. He pulls Angel closer and kisses him. This embrace is different from the first, full of tenderness and the longing of two men who have lived on nothing but memories and desire. Soon, Angel is doing that thing with his tongue that draws the breath from Lindsey’s lungs and the smaller man pulls back to whisper, “If we’re going to take this further, maybe you should lock the door.”
Angel smirks at him before doing just that. But once the door is locked, he leans his back against it and doesn’t come back to Lindsey. The ex-lawyer is once again treated to that unmoving blankness. “Lindsey. We can’t do this. Not here.”
Of course not. “I know. I didn’t intend to. You just started kissing me and—”
“—And things got out of control. My fault.” Angel draws in a deep, unnecessary breath. “About the visions. You shouldn’t concern yourself with this, Lindsey.”
The other man shakes his head. “I’d love to forget them, Angel. But when I got them twice in a row, I figured this was something urgent that you weren’t taking care of and I came here to find out why.”
“You’ve had this vision twice in a row? Damn, that is bad.”
“And there was one about the Reilly kid and his family being attacked in an SUV.”
Angel shoots him a sharp look. “That didn’t happen.”
“No, not yet. But it will.”
This time the vampire’s gaze is measuring. “And you still haven’t told me why you felt the need to cross three states to tell me this. There’s always email.”
“Yes, there is. You seem to have forgotten that, though.” Damn, there’s the accusation. And he’d sworn to himself that he was going to avoid it.
Angel withdraws from him to sit behind the huge desk. He motions Lindsey to sit. The ex-lawyer wavers; Angel is creating distance between them again and that’s the last thing he wants. Still, given the severity of the situation, perhaps it’s for the best…for the time being.
He sits, luxuriating in the plush leather chair. He’d forgotten the grand comfort Wolfram & Hart provided to its employees in the upper echelons. But he can’t let himself get distracted by old memories. “Angel, this case about Connor is important. But you’re ignoring it. I want to know why.”
“I told this to one of my seers, Francis Gumm. The kid isn’t in any danger. He got up after he’d been hit by that van. He’s fine now.”
“Not for long. My other vision shows whoever targeted him the first time is going after him again for a second try. Now, granted, the boy seems to have unusual abilities if he can survive being run down by a van. But I’m pretty sure his family may not live through being torn apart by demons.”
“Maybe. Or maybe they’re a whole family of demons being targeted by a rival clan. In which case, the last thing I need to do is get my team involved. This is probably a territorial dispute.”
Lindsey doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. Why is Angel so determined to turn his back on people in need? What happened to the great champion? “Is that right? Then why am I getting visions about it? My visions have always warned me about humans being in danger. I wouldn’t be hit by the same vision twice in less than 24 hours if it were about some demonic wrangling. ‘Fess up, Angel. You know more than you’re telling about this boy. Why won’t you check this out?”
The vampire’s hands clench and then lay themselves flat against the tabletop. “It’s not your business any more, Lindsey. You’re not Spike’s seer; you’re not my seer. In fact, we’ve got plenty of seers. We’ve had one tell us about the van attack but nothing about this second one.”
“Are you saying I’m lying to you, Angel?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” That is a low blow and Angel seems to sense it. But he doesn’t apologize and Lindsey swallows the hurt. He’s got bigger fish to fry and he’s certain Angel’s callous indifference is just a put-on.
At least, that’s what he’s hoping. Has being head of Wolfram & Hart changed the vampire so much? Maybe that’s what his vision was trying to warn him about. Could he be seeing the beginning stages of the return of Angelus? Francis Gumm had expressed this very fear just last night…
But Angel is standing again, unaware of Lindsey’s inner turmoil. “Now if you’ve got details about that second vision, just give it to me and you can leave.”
Leave? Is Angel just kicking him out? After the kiss and everything else they’ve shared? Lindsey gives him a steely stare. “Like you just said, Angel, I’m not working for you so you don’t get to dismiss me like I’m a vampire minion. I came here to talk to you and we’re not finis—”
The intercom blares into life between them and Harmony’s squeaky voice comes over the line. “Angel, are you there? That guy who went up to see you told me to let you know when Spike was coming. Guess he finally developed a decent work ethic because he’s on his way up.”
The Oklahoman’s blue eyes burn into Angel. “This isn’t over.” He swings around and unlocks the door. One way or another, he’s going to see action taken. If Angel won’t help this boy, then Lindsey will have to do it. Heck, he does have demon strength after all.
He decides to take the stairs. That will ensure he doesn’t meet Spike getting off the elevator. Rounding the corner, he bumps into a flustered-looking brunette. The impact staggers her and causes her to drop the folder she’s holding. Papers and photos scatter across the hallway.
Lindsey is upset at the mess and instantly contrite. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry, miss.”
“That’s quite all right. My fault, really. I was just in such a hurry to get these to Wesley; I wasn’t watching where I was going. I am such a klutz sometimes.” Her soft Texan accent is sharpened by distress. The brunette woman bends down and begins gathering up the paperwork strewn about the hall.
Lindsey protests even as he kneels to help her. “No, I was in a bit of a temper and took off without looking. Let me help you with these.” He picks up a photograph and freezes. “Connor?”
She looks up in surprise. “Yes. How’d you know that name?” She pulls the paper from his unresisting fingers and then does a double take. “Oh golly. Are you Connor’s father?”
“What?” Connor’s father? Why would she think that? He’s about to make an automatic denial when she points out what he’s missed.
“Well, you look just like him. The brown hair, the blue eyes, the shape of your face. And, according to the stats, he’s small of stature just like you.” She mistook Lindsey’s stunned look for indignation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any insult by it. It’s only, well, like I said. You look just like him.”
Lindsey doesn’t say anything. He’s just realized who Connor reminds him of.
“Darla.”
TBC
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