Author: Misty Flores
Email: mistyjox@hotmail.com
Teaser: When Angel Investigations investigate a murder at a local strip joint, one of the crew gets a little more undercover than they bargained for.
--
Chapter Seven
--
It took a full five minutes after he parked the car to muster the courage to step out of it.
The vampire with a soul took a long, loose breath, leaning his head back against the leather covered headrest, mind and soul whirling with the implications of tonight.
Tonight was a job, and that was it.
They were professionals, and that was it.
He would get through it, because Cordelia trusted him.
Opening the door of the convertible, he stepped out, handing the keys to the valet with some hesitation, noting the way the valet's eyes lit up at the sight of the old car.
The young man got in, revved up the engine, and Angel tried not to cringe as he heard the tires screeching on the gravel.
Left alone to look up at the dark mansion, Angel began to move, working his way up the long drive, through the metal gate and around the darkened cobblestone steps.
Every dead nerve seemed alive, hesitation and fear mingled within him, bowtie dangling in his hand, moving around the side of the house.
Brian was waiting, eyes narrowed, as he crossed his arms, and then jerked his head toward the open door.
"Get in. Rebecca wants to see you."
Once again, Angel was implicitly reminded he was no mortal, as the low growl of the demon rose within him, and the prickles of anger slid through him. Vestiges of the demon urged him to turn, clench one strong hand around the neck of the young bouncer and simply twist, ending the annoyance, allowing one burst of pleasure at seeing the look on the young man's face before the neck splintered.
He clenched his fists, kept his eyes on the door, and forced down the anger, shuddering throughout his body prevalent as he wrenched open the door, slamming it shut behind him.
Servants in white jackets and bow ties hustled around him, shouting out in English, and sometimes in Spanish, moving around him and through the doors into the kitchen, where odors of food that seemed gourmet by nature wafted through the billows of smoke emerging from under the door.
To his right, dressed in a long black evening gown, a new, freshly picked red rose pinned to her lapel, stood Rebecca Hull, eyes looking distracted, a tight frown on her face as she spoke to one of the servants.
Her eyes caught his entrance, and with a harried wave, she motioned him over, moving into a small office in the side of the corridor.
"You're late," she snapped as soon as he came in, moving toward the desk and rifling through some paperwork, fumbling with the cigarette in her hand until he took the lighter from her.
She gave him a cold look as he held the lighter under her nose, but leaned forward, puffing in until the stick began to burn, taking in the nicotine and sighing from relief.
"Sorry. I got held up."
Finally able to breathe, she straightened, shaking out her hair and looking back down to her paperwork.
"Don't let it happen again." She shook her head, craning her neck before settling into the plush leather, hand absently stroking at the black under her arm. "You know you're on a very thin cord here, right Angel?"
He cocked his head, unsure.
"Making out with what's-her-name in the alley, stealing a video from my office-" He stiffened, but she only took another drag of the cigarette, knuckles rapping against the armrest nervously. "and now you're late. You make a damn poor floor boy."
"I'm sorry."
His eyes began to shift to the exit, uncertain now, hands clenching into fists-
"Did you look at the video?"
The direct question caught him off-guard. The vampire gave her a wary look, but she only coolly gazed back.
Playing her game, he tossed back, "Yeah. Interesting."
She was quiet, before reaching forward and rifling through a file. "You took the August 28th Party video, right? Yeah, that was a good one." She took another drag, studying him with her startlingly clear eyes. "You would have had to see it anyway. Whether you still have a job tomorrow will depend on how you do tonight. So, I hope you studied it well."
With that she rose.
"Take off the shirt, put on the bow-tie and go to Maurice to get oiled down. Tonight is just like the club, but this time, the ladies get to touch."
Stunned, Angel turned, watching her go with a frozen body.
She paused in the doorway, and suddenly gave a shrug. "Let's hope you're as good under the covers as you were in that alley."
The door closed behind her, and Angel was left alone, closing his eyes, pushing out an angry breath, and wondering how on earth he was going to get through this hell of a night.
--
Wesley had been worried, Fred had been mildly excited, and Gunn had been agitated.
Cordelia had pasted on her 'it's all right' face, constantly reassuring them that she and Angel knew what they were doing, that this needed to happen, that it was a set-up, that real detectives did it all the time.
But she and Angel had never been so immersed in the case before. They still knew next to nothing, and Fred's click and Wesley's 'eureka', words and actions they had been hoping for, had still not happened.
In all honesty, this was the best, the only real lead they had that hadn't led to a dead end.
Sucking in her breath, Cordelia pushed back the fogginess of the vision, the pain that still splintered inside her mind and reached hesitantly for the hand of the valet, grateful for his support as he pulled her out of the limousine, steadying her when she gripped his hand tighter than necessary.
"Careful."
"Thanks," she breathed out, taking the corsage that he held to her.
"The gravel is slippery."
So is my head, she thought, biting her lip and straightening up.
She could do this.
She could.
Moving past the valet, she pondered the Power's reason for pushing another mind crippling vision on her while she was on active duty. It wasn't like SHE had a perfect happiness clause.
Of course, that might as well would have had to be the case.
Moving up, she was careful as she turned up the cobblestone, keeping the pain from surfacing on her face, trying to morph into the old Cordelia Chase, and the new Victoria Chase.
The throbbing she managed to subside to a dull ache, and as she stepped through the open door, handing her coat to the man who bowed in the marble awning, Cordelia felt herself catch her breath before she could stop it.
The hallway glittered of candlelight and crystal. Hazel eyes shone as she stepped into the house, licking her lips as she gazed at the priceless pieces set carefully on mantles, signed lobby cards of old movies framed and hung on the walls.
Laughter and low throated chuckles moved around her, floating in from the open doors on the right, and moving toward them, Cordelia paused when she heard her fake name being called.
"Victoria."
Cordelia turned, a smile on her face to greet Rebecca Hull. The young pimp truly looked happy to see her as she jogged down the stairs as well as she was able in the sleek gown, reaching forward to clasp Cordelia's hands and peck her cheek like a long lost friend.
"Rebecca."
"Oh, thank God you're here," Rebecca said, grinning. "I admit I cater to the rich, but I just can't handle rich, spoiled and BORING. Not one of these women has the wit you have."
Cordelia had to smile at the compliment, letting easy laughter come out of her as she turned her gaze back to the doors. "I take it the party hasn't started yet?"
"Mmmm… not for what you want, but he's here."
Cordelia flushed at the knowing grin, and felt her heart shudder slightly as she carefully tossed the curls over her shoulder, her eyes growing colder.
"What about this Rachel girl? I've seen her-"
"Oh…" Rebecca looked apologetic, "Well in all fairness she DID see him first." When Cordelia's brow only rose higher, Rebecca added, "But… let me work it out. I promised him to you, and I always make sure my friends aren't disappointed."
Friends? Cordelia speculated on the nature of the word, but only offered a tight smile in response.
"Glad to hear that."
Carefully, Rebecca took the corsage from Cordelia's fingers, leaning forward to pin it delicately over Cordelia's right breast.
Her fingers shook slightly, and Cordelia looked on, a little unnerved, until Rebecca pulled back, took in a shaky breath, and wrapped an arm into the crook of Cordelia's elbow, leading her into the ballroom.
--
Rebecca Hull had not left her side, and Cordelia had the slightest suspicion that she had garnered some sort of guest of honor position, as she was seated comfortably on the plush bean bag like chair, lounging along with Rebecca and Donald, a glass of champagne in her hand as the men made their rounds with the woman.
It was odd, the men were… fully dressed.
In black tuxes and ties, the event seemed almost like a regular gathering, a party as the woman in red roses talked and laughed, and men held plates of food, seated next to them.
A band was playing, and the exclusive party was reminiscent of some forties Rita Hayworth movie she had watched as a child.
She found herself able to breathe normally only when Angel was not in the direct vicinity, and with Rebecca practically glued to her side, there was no way to allow the mounting tension that was quickly building in her abdomen to find any sort of release.
The vampire was treading on thin ice, if the signals Cordelia caught between Donald and Rebecca were accurate. His eyes were shifty, he seemed unsure, and her lips became almost parched when her throat became dry, as she realized that Angel looked openly nervous.
Samuel, a beautifully built man with a smile that would have sent her reeling had she not been dividing her time between trying to fight off the vision hangover and attempting to look cool and calm despite her aching need to understand what had Angel so freaked, came and sat down beside her, handing her another glass and speaking to her in a normal, conversational tone.
"You seem distracted."
Rebecca gave a knowing smile and leaned back, for the moment leaving the two to speak as she reached over and whispered into Donald's ear.
Cordelia was polite, but that was all, as she turned, regarding him and nodding. "Just tired. I have a little headache."
To his credit, Samuel looked almost concerned as he placed the glass down and carefully reached for her neck.
"May I?"
She saw the hesitation, and unsure why she allowed it, nodded, as Samuel gently stepped around her and pressed soft, but firm fingers into the muscles of the crook of her neck.
An involuntary sigh escaped her, eyes drifting closed as the muscles underneath his delving fingertips contracted, tension being eased out by warmth.
"Wow. You're tight."
"Mmm." Unconsciously, she found herself leaning, back now resting against Samuel's chest, as he carefully worked at her back.
A tray slamming down made her jolt, her eyes jerk open, and her gaze immediately caught Angel's angry glare, as he shoved a glass into one of the woman's hands and turned away.
Flushing, Cordelia straightened, pushing Samuel's hands off. "Thanks."
"Are you-"
"Fine, that was great, but no more." Rebecca leaned up against her, dark eyes thoughtful as she looked back to Angel's retreating form.
"Something wrong?"
"Nothing," Cordelia said hastily, gloved fingertips caressing at her temples, taking in a shaky breath. "I'm just… tired."
"Long day."
"You have no idea," she admitted, a grim smile on her face. Her cheeks were burning insistently, and when she finally gathered the gumption to face Rebecca, the other had an unreadable face.
"Donald go check on the rooms," she said flippantly, and the other man huffed and looked ready to argue, but the look on Rebecca's face had been used many a time by Cordelia and it had the required effect as Donald got up, shuffling off to the other side of the room.
"You've never done this before."
Cordelia looked surprised, startled, and the slightest bit of fear worked itself into her system as she fervently shook her head.
"Rebecca-"
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Victoria," Rebecca said, a smile emerging on her face as she turned her attention on the room, her tone almost conversational. "First time for everything, just glad you decided to do this with me, is all."
Cordelia swallowed, wincing at the aching pain in her head before sucking in her breath. "What do you mean?"
Rebecca shrugged, but the smile was slow and wise and a little bit disturbing. "Just glad that it's with me, is all." Her eyes connected with Cordelia. "I like the newbies."
"Yeah, pay for sex, yay me," Cordelia muttered, disgust running rampant in her tone.
Rebecca paused, and shook her head. "That's not what I mean. Women in general are so… bound by society, but look," Rebecca motioned her glass to the Red Roses, laughing and talking with the men, "here there's not pretension, no… wondering about morals and first impressions." She grinned, sipping her drink and letting out a soft, contented sigh. "In this bubble women are free to take what they need, what they want."
Cordelia was quiet, the smile on Rebecca's face creeping her out more than a little. "So you see yourself as a… female liberator?"
"And I make good money at it," Rebecca said, chuckling.
--
Towards the hours of the morning, the tension that had been building inside of Angel seemed ready to burst.
The vampire stood in the shadows, speaking urgently into the cellphone.
"No, Wesley! We're fine."
There was a loud sigh on the other end. "Angel you seem rather… agitated."
"Yeah, well YOU get pawed at all night, and see how YOU feel."
"Angel-"
"And Cordelia hasn't even looked in my direction all night!"
There was a pause, and Angel flushed, shuffling feet.
"Angel, I need to know if you're sure you can do this, because if you can't-"
"Wesley I don't think we have a choice," he snapped, closing his eyes and leaning against the wall. "If it's any consolation, not exactly in the mood for perfect happiness, okay?"
"Angel?"
The voice bounced off the walls and Angel turned, snapping the phone shut and turning back to the party, meeting Donald halfway.
"Rebecca wants you inside now," Donald said, coming into the hallways, watching him with dark, almost emotionless eyes.
In his long years as a vampire, Angelus had never known fear, he had never known anxiety, and he had never cared about outcomes.
But the pit in Angel's stomach was almost nauseating, and the aspect that identified with the demon took it's toll, disgust shuddering over his body at the foreign human emotion of fear, caring… anxiety…
The pain and honor for which Angel had once striven for, the badge of honor that seemed more a burden now than before.
But he took a breath, thought of Jennifer, of Wesley and Gunn and Fred, and of Cordelia.
"Right."
The hand on his shoulder stopped him from going further, as Donald began speaking in calm, firm tones. "Before you begin, here are the rules."
--
"This is the best suite we have," Rebecca smiled as she inserted the lock into door, turning it quickly and opening, pushing the door and allowing Cordelia to walk inside.
Her heels sunk into the plush carpet, and her breath caught at the sight of the velvet canopy, the rich, red vibrant color of the silk sheets.
"It's no Le Meridian," Rebecca said with a smile, leaning against the doorway, "But it'll do."
Cordelia's eyes were wide, wonder clouding beneath the hazel as she turned, surveying the room as her purse was deposited on the nightstand, eyes searching the room for any sign of the camera she knew had to be there.
The room was plush, expensive, rich, comfortable.
"How long do we have?" she found herself wondering out loud.
"Take as long as you want," Rebecca said, coming forward, arms crossed as she looked around the room, "make sure you get your money's worth." Her eyes shifted toward Cordelia's form, and after a moment, she looked away. "But I wouldn't recommend falling asleep. The walk of shame isn't something I personally like for my clients."
Cordelia felt the smile creep on her face before she had a chance to stop it, nodding. "That brings back memories."
"Don't I know it," Rebecca commiserated, and the awkward silence ensued, until Rebecca coughed and turned toward the door. "Guess I better get our host. You should have everything you need. Enjoy yourself."
The door clicked closed behind her, and still the game wouldn't end. The cameras were in the room somewhere and the warped mind game had more than taken its toll on Cordelia's tired mind.
Desperation mingled with exhaustion quickly were wearing her down, and with a sigh, she sank down onto the bed, closing her eyes and muttering a silent prayer for strength before the door opened and Angel stepped into the room.
Her head jerked up, and as their eyes locked, her heart gave, just a little.
The smile of awkwardness was real, relief mixed with awareness of their dangerous situation flooding through her as she stood shakily to her feet.
Angel was quiet, orbs dark and intense, searing through her as a man drunk on nothing but ardor.
His perfect mouth was set in a grim, dark, intense line, and she didn't blame him the expression, she knew a similar frown was present on her own.
He fumbled with the lock, never taking his eyes off of her, and when that was done, he stepped away from it, one step closer to her.
Whether it had been unconscious or completely deliberate made no difference, he was one step closer and the truth was, she had missed him, incredibly.
In two steps she was in his arms, shuddering against the rock solid of his chest, eyes closing as their lips met and hungrily began to move.
There was one kiss, lips pressed fiercely against each other, and another, and she burrowed her face into his neck, holding him desperately, tightly, as his hold on her became almost painful.
She felt his mouth on her bare shoulder, heard his intake of breath as he breathed her scent in.
"Are you okay?" he whispered, lips brushing against the outer folds of her ear.
Her eyes closed involuntarily as she gave a sigh that seemed all too genuine. "Headache," she answered just as quietly.
"Do you know where the cameras are?" he whispered again, this time burying his mouth in her neck.
Her fingers tangled into the short tufts at the nape of his neck, holding him closer, grazing the bone of his jaw with soft caresses as she moved her lips against his skin. "No idea."
With a growl, he reached for her waist, lifting her up and pressing her groin firmly against his, and it was clear that this was taking its toll on him, as her hips bucked, seemingly enjoying a life of their own, against his hardening shaft.
"Angel…"
"Shhh…" He silenced her protest with a feather light kiss on her mouth, and her eyes connected with his and suddenly their lips were moving against each other hungrily.
Now she was on her back, body moving against satin sheets, fingers ripping buttons off holes as Angel valiantly tried to aid her, shrugging off the white dress shirt, ripping the bow tie off and tossing it away.
Oh, God…
Her body was heated, her mind feverish, and she fought to control the desire, biting her lip and attempting to keep the moaning out of her voice when he touched her, gently cupping one full breast against his palm.
She arched into his hand, and her eyes were moist when he whispered, gently, "Cordy…"
Her eyes never moved from his as his palm slid over her cheek, a faint caress that sent goosebumps throughout her body. "Do you trust me?"
Like he had to ask.
Her nod was almost immediate, even as her heart jolted with in her and her soul splintered at the pain of having to pretend when it was all too real… and much too dangerous.
This was a mission, it wasn't real, but it was Angel, and he was here, and she trusted him with her very soul…
Even if she couldn't trust him with his.
His eyes had flecks of gold in them when he was aroused, she realized, body completely still as he carefully slid the straps from the dress, propping himself up on one knee and sliding his hand under her waist, lifting her up to slide the dress down from under her.
It had occurred to her that they would have to be naked, even as he lifted the sheets out and tossed them over them, she was reaching for his belt buckle, cheeks tinting a furious red when he moved against her hand, his breath hitching in a strangled moan.
Oh, God….
"Trust me," she whispered fiercely, chest heaving against his, as his arms went around her, the pair frozen completely, focused on each other's face, almost afraid to look anywhere else. "We'll get through this."
He swallowed, hard, and in a incredibly stupid move, considering the camera's, he allowed one gentle caress, from her hair, now in complete disarray, to her mouth.
"I love you," he whispered, and their lips came together again, the kiss soft, gentle, desperate and scared.
They were so very scared.
But the trust was inherent, and it was what gave Cordelia hope, and gave her control, because there was complete trust, and for once, the fear gave way to something much stronger…
Their friendship could survive if there was trust…
And her hand jerked the belt loop out of the pants, and her fingers jerked the zipper down.
--
"I still don't understand how you don't find these things just the weirdest bit… disturbing."
Rebecca ignored the outburst, instead staring down at the monitors, finger to her lips as she ran through them room by room.
"Jason's going off too quickly, make sure you tell him that."
Donald obediently scribbled it down. "You gonna see how our newest is doing?"
Rebecca nodded in distraction finally moving away from the last monitor to the one that Donald was observing.
Her eyes changed slightly, mouth pulling into a frown, crossing her arms.
Her eyes shifted to see Donald, but he was shifting slightly, shuddering as he turned away from the screen, Victoria's moans apparently shaking him.
"Something wrong?"
"Sounds like she's enjoying herself," Rebecca muttered.
"Mmm… ya think?" Donald gave a smirk, "Though with that guy can you blame her?"
"He seems to be having a good time."
"And with that girl, you blame him?"
Rebecca gave him a look. "You think he's doing a good job?"
Donald turned back to screen, putting on his glasses to study the scene. "I think that's the best debut in a while?" This time he was clearly interested, moving forward and almost grinning. "Almost perfect."
"Mmm."
But Rebecca only cocked her head, eyes intent on the scene, ignoring Donald's running commentary.
Truth be told, she looked less than convinced.
--
The woman was utterly terrified.
Around her the chanting continued, and with tear streaked eyes, she held onto the man, pleading with him, begging to understand what was going on.
But the chanting continued, and in her heels she slipped, trying to catch her fall with by slamming her palm into the floor.
The pain shot up her forearm, and her wrist crumpled, making her cry out in agony.
The man held her down, and she looked up at him, pleading with him, eyes jerking toward the statue that stood stoically in the center, looking down on her with the face of a woman, the body of… something else completely.
She begged but he said nothing, his face drawn and his eyes glazed over, almost onyx and black.
The figure in the hood came nearer, and when it reached forward, the tattoo was clearly visible on the hand.
She gasped in recognition, and the chanting grew louder, and louder…
The burst of light came in sync with her pain, and when the lifeless
hand fell to the floor, the red rose tumbled onto the floor, smashed, and
hopelessly out of shape.
