He had brought her up from Hell. He didn’t have the magic, but he knew people that did. He was in on the game plan from the beginning and he went along with it as if they had never ... He participated and he paid with his hand.
Angel left the tomb with the smell of Lindsey’s blood in his throat. Left him writhing on the floor and cursing, the prophecy safe, but his future as dark and empty as his nights would be. The lawyer might’ve taken the corner office, the bigger paycheck, the limousine that picked him up and took him home, but he never stopped coming to Angel.
Out of the hospital, bandages around his wrist. Angel slid in a window. Pinned Lindsey against a tastefully decorated wall.
The only question Angel asked before he ripped Lindsey’s pants. The only word that hung in the air between them as Angel banged his wounded arm against the wall and red seeped through the white. The only word that stayed in Lindsey’s mind as Angel raped him. Fucked him. Hurt him and came inside of him and left him to slide down onto expensive carpet, alone.