Callie's Shadow Ch. 03

Marcus popped his head into Shadow's office, his wings held up and almost quivering against his back. "What'd you say to Callie?"

"Huh?" Shadow looked up, noting the high color on Marcus's face. "Why?"

"Cuz she's kicking Angel's ass on the sparring mats. I've never seen her like this." He ducked out, heading back toward the gym before Shadow could question him further.

"Hell," Shadow growled. "I'm more of a baby sitter than a boss." He got up and headed out of his office jogging to catch up with Marcus.

"They've got stun sticks, boss. I've never seen them spark like this before. I think even Angel's breaking out in a sweat."

Shadow opened the door to duck inside the gym, noting the men that were circled around the two women. Over the top of their heads he could see a glimpse of Callie, a sheen of sweat making her skin seem to glow. Somebody yelled encouragement as her head disappeared behind the crowd of men once more and Shadow could see sparks flying.

"Dammit," he growled, striding towards the group of men just as Marcus took a step back, nudging the guy next to him and nodding his head toward Shadow.

Suddenly, all the men who'd been so intensely interested in watching the two women go at each other had something better to do. The gym quickly emptied, leaving Angel and Callie still battling on the mat. The two were so intent upon the other; they didn't notice Shadow coming in or the men leaving.

Sparks flew from the stun sticks as they moved around the mat, grunts and groans echoing around the now almost empty gym. Angel landed a blow, almost knocking Callie off her feet and leaving a bright welt that matched at least ten others. Callie kept her feet, though Shadow didn't know how. Angel's powers were vast, but he could see she was tiring and that the burning of the stick was getting to her.

"Stop this," he growled, stepping between the two women and grabbing both sticks. The power of the shock the sticks were giving off almost knocked him off his feet. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Training," Callie said, holding on to her stick.

Angel let go of hers, bending at the waist. If she actually breathed, she might look as if she were catching her breath. Instead she was cooling off the burns on her hands against her skin, unwilling to let Callie see how bad they were.

"Angel, go take a shower and bed down here, you'll never make it across town before dawn."

She nodded, turning and heading to the locker room, rubbing her shoulder where Callie had struck last. On her way past Marcus, she grabbed at his arm. "Let's give the kiddies some time alone," she said, nodding back where Shadow was still holding both sticks.

"Oh hell, you always ruin all my fun. If I go like a good boy, will you let me scrub your back?" Marcus smiled, moving closer to her only to draw back when she bared her fangs at him. "Okay, geez, it was just an idea."

"Keep your ideas in your pants," she growled waiting until she was out of sight of the other two members of their team before she gave in and started limping.

"She really kicked your butt, didn't she?" Marcus whistled, holding up his hands when Angel narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'm fine, Wings, so drop the subject. Why don't you go find someone who enjoys having your around. Oh, wait, you'd have to find a time machine and find one of those Greek Gods that created you."

"Atlantean," he corrected, brushing off her snide remarks. "I'm happy right where I am."

"Yeah, but I'd like you to get lost," Angel demanded. She grabbed his arm when he went to turn around and go back into the gym. "Not that way, big guy. You've got to go through here."

"The women's locker room? Not likely, not even for you, unless..." Marcus let the words trail off, taking her hand and running it down his smooth, bare chest. Her hand was cold, making him shiver, causing his nipples to rise into small points. "I'd need a little incentive."

Angel turned to look at him, every bit of the cocky female vamp gone from her face. "Marcus, please," she almost begged. "For once in your centuries of life, could you just do something for someone without blackmail and bribery?"

"Where's the fun in that?" he asked, then took a better look at her face. "Yeah, sure," he said, scooping her up in his big arms. "Dawn's almost here."

"How do you .know that?" Angel asked, not even fighting him when he walked through the door and into the locker shower room.

"You're way too pale even for you. I've only seen you look like this when dawn's almost here. You need blood and a crypt." He set her down, turning on the shower head and putting her in the spray dressed just as she was. Then he surprised her even more, stepping into the spray with her.

"You're ruining your boots, Wings."

"I'll let you buy me a new pair," he said.

"Oh, how magnanimous of you." Her words were coming out slurred, her body reacting to the dawn though she couldn't see the sun.

Marcus washed her long hair, running his fingers through the silky softness of it. He'd always wanted to get lost in it, to bury his face in the white blonde tresses and forget about all the terror and horror he'd seen and done in his many centuries of life. He could feel the coolness of her skin against his arms, he could smell the shampoo in her hair mixed with her natural scent. He had but to drop his head and he could kiss her.

Oh how he longed to taste her lips, to feel her fangs with his tongue, to let her feed off of him while he was inside of her, fucking her with long, hard strokes. Angel would take all of him, he knew it as well as he knew his own name.

He was massaging her scalp, hearing her make little cooing whimpers of pleasure that were about to send him up in flames. "So who turned you?" he asked hoarsely, desperately trying to take his mind off of what he'd like to do to her.

"I wasn't turned," she groaned, leaning back against him as he rinsed her hair. "My father is one of the Old Ones. My mother was his consort for a while until they tired of each other and went on to find other lovers."

"They tired of each other? But what of you?"

"I was never something to be tired of. I was his daughter, one of four children my father had." She could feel the sleep calling to her, but she fought it. "We are only allowed so many children in our lives. My father is Armand Rand, I am his youngest."

"I've met your father," Marcus said, finishing with her hair. He turned off the shower and reached for the sports bra she was wearing, stripping it over her head before she could protest. His eyes dropped to the small but perfectly formed breasts he'd just bared and he swallowed heavily. Grabbing a towel, he put it over her shoulder and pulled her hair free before kneeling at her feet and ridding her of her shoes and socks.

"You know my dad?"

"Yeah, I met him after I was dug up. He was quite the party animal, and a babe magnet." He closed his eyes, promising himself he would do no more than finish undressing her, dry her off and get her into a crypt. He wouldn't take undo advantage because she was almost comatose, he couldn't do that to her. "Hell," he hissed, letting his hands run up the outside of her silky legs, finding the wet shorts and pulling them down. The tiny scrap of lace she called underwear came off as well, leaving her naked under the towel.

"Marcus?" she called, dropping her hand onto his shoulder as she weaved drunkenly against him.

"Yeah?" He stood up, grabbing another towel to wrap her hair in, than taking the first to pat her dry.

"You know I'm going to have to kick your ass for this tonight when I wake up?"

"Yeah," he grinned, running his hands over her with the towel between her skin and his. "I know you're going to try."

She snorted. "Try my ass, you ain't nothing but a big butterfly." Her hands came up to rest against his chest, her fingers curling against his skin. "Thank you. For all of this."

"You're welcome, but we still need to get you fed."

"Can I?" she asked, staring at his neck. "I've always wondered what ancient Atlantean warrior would taste like."

It was like his daydream come true. Angel biting into him, drinking from him. His cock was so hard, he thought it would burst through the wet leather of his pants. He lifted her in his arms, the towel forgotten and hurried out of the shower room. "Where's your locker?"

"Down there," she pointed carelessly, her eyes fixed on his neck where she could see the pulse throbbing under his skin. Her fangs had lengthen, her tongue running over them and then across her lips.

He opened the locker, searching through it for something for her to wear. A silken robe caught on his rough fingers and he pulled it out, setting her down and putting her arms through it. It came down to her knees, the multi colored muted silk festive and pretty against her skin. Lifting her in his arms once more, he headed out of the locker room and down the hall, ignoring the looks he received from the other ASP agents as he carried Angel down to the elevator.

Three floors down, in the deepest part of the building, were the crypts, housing for the vampires who were either on call or trapped by dawn. Marcus stepped out of the elevator, taking a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. Rooms lined either side of the hall, some doors opened, others closed. Marcus headed for the closest one, closing the door behind him and setting the lock.

The room was bare, stone walls, plain linoleum floors, but no one here cared about the ambiance. What they cared about was sitting in the middle of the room. The box was close to seven feet long, wide enough for two or three if they squeezed close. The top was hinged, made of black shatter proof glass and sitting open, as if in invitation.

Marcus laid her down gently inside the box, toeing off his boots and throwing his wet pants to the floor. Lying down next to her, he reached up for the hinged lid, meaning to close it, when her hand stopped him.

"No...you're claustrophobia," she murmured.

He couldn't help but smile. It was just like the cocky female vamp to remember his fear of enclosed places since being trapped underground for a couple of centuries. "If I have a panic attack, you can hold me, okay?"

She nodded, barely conscious, waiting for him to lay back before wrapping her lithe body around him, her knee coming up to rest against his upper thighs, her arm across his chest, her face buried in his neck. He felt her take a deep breath, inhaling his scent and letting out another of those whimpering moans that were driving him crazy.

"May I?" she whispered, licking the spot over the pulse in his throat.

He wrapped his arm around her, moving her body so that she straddled his stomach, her breasts against his chest. "Please," he whispered raggedly.

She lifted her head, her eyes almost glowing in the dark, contained space of the crypt. He could see what little light made it inside from the white sides of the box glistening on her fangs, extended far enough now to bite deep into her prey. Angel moved once more, and he could feel her wetness against his lower belly, his cock nudging at the swollen flesh between her thighs.

She moved again, having more energy in the darkness of the crypt. Pressing herself backward, he felt her soft, wet flesh engulf the head of his cock. He trembled under her, more affected by this giving of herself than he could say. "Gods, Angel, I've dreamt of this."

"Show me," she growled huskily, licking at his throat once more.

Marcus ripped off the silken robe she wore, the fragile silk shredding under his strength. He wove his hand in the heavy still wet tresses of her hair, pushing her closer to the spot even as his hips moved, thrusting upward and impaling her upon the long length of his cock. "Bite me," he commanded in an authoritative voice that belayed his usual laidback demeanor and showed the qualities that he had been made for.

An almost giddy feeling filled him as she bit into his flesh, her teeth puncturing deep. He felt both conquered and conqueror as he thrust up into her, his big hands holding her slim body against his. He braced his feet against the bottom of the crypt, his breath almost startling loud in the enclosed space.

Angel moaned, moving against him as the sweet taste of his blood poured into her mouth. There was a different flavor to it, a sugary taste that was almost intoxicating. She felt power unlike anything she'd known before flooding into her veins.

It was heady, this power, and she suckled eagerly, wanting more. Her body began to move against his, the feel of his thick cock thrusting between her slender thighs had her on the edge of bliss almost from the start. She had to force herself to pull away from his neck, licking the wound closed when she wanted more. Instead, she pulled her body from him, evading his hands, not an easy thing to do in such a confined space.

"No, Angel, Gods don't..." Marcus began, only to thrust his head back against the soft pillow as her mouth moved over his chest and down to envelop his cock. "Don't you even think of biting me there," he hissed.

She licked her tongue across the tip of his glans, tasting his essence in another elemental way. "Don't worry, butterfly, I won't pull your wings off."

"I'm not worried about my wings," he groaned, even as she took him deep into her throat. "Oh bloody hell, Angel, go ahead and bite me but just keep doing that."

Angel smiled around the thick base of his cock. Who'd have thought that Wings would be so damned sexy or taste so intoxicatingly good? She closed her lips around him, pulling back until just the head of his cock was in her mouth. Holding on with one hand, she slid the other down her body, finding the vee of her thighs and the slick wetness between. Her fingers twiddled over her clit, making her gasp even as she licked and flicked her tongue at the thick vein running along the underside of his cock.

He squirmed under her, his knee bending and hitting the top of the crypt. Without taking her mouth off of him, Angel lifted the lid, letting in a rush of fresh air. Moving her head over his cock, she stroked him, sucking on him and relishing the taste of his pre-cum.

Marcus could feel the come boiling in his balls, his climax a hairs breadth away. He reached down, grabbing her eagerly and pulling her over him. "Kiss me!" he growled, filling his hands with her breasts, anything to stay the urge.

Angel stared down at his mouth, licking her lips and humming over the taste. If he kissed as good as he tasted, she was in serious trouble. His hands felt exquisite against her skin, his heat warming the coldness of her skin, making her feel more alive than she had in a long time. Dipping her head, she rubbed her lips against his, teasing him with tiny touches of her tongue and backing away mischievously when he would try to take it any deeper.

He reached up, wrapping his hand in her hair and holding her still. "I said kiss me," he demanded, pulling her back down. His lips were hot, his tongue urgent in her mouth. He didn't tease, he demanded. His mouth was hungry, staying on hers even as he rolled her to her back, dragging one of her legs over his arm.

She closed her eyes feeling him move above her, sliding back into her with an ease and a fullness that had every nerve in her body humming with joy. "Ahh," she cried as he lifted his mouth, holding himself away from her on his arms. She couldn't stop moving, her hips undulating, forcing him to fuck her when he would hold himself still.

"Do you want to come?" he growled in her ear.

"No," she groaned. "I'm just doing this to make you feel good."

Marcus chuckled at the sound of sarcasm in her husky voice. "Okay," he rasped in agreement. Letting her leg go, he lay on top of her and buried his face in her hair. "Good night."

"Wings," she hissed, "unless you'd like me to pluck your feathers and make you into chicken soup, move your ass."

"Okay," he said innocently. "I was just trying to be helpful." He kissed her once more then moved down her body, kissing and caressing her cold skin. Taking her nipple in his mouth, he bit down gently.

Angel squirmed, her hands burying in the thick golden blonde curls on his head. She arched when he started sucking, feeling her womb contract with every pleasure-filled suckle. "Harder," she begged. "Bite me harder."

He shifted to the other nipple, his thumb and finger rolling the other still wet from his tongue. Lashing at the pale tip with his tongue, he drew it into his mouth, biting down until she squealed then lapping at the welts he made.

It was too much, or maybe just enough. Angel dug her nails into his back, her body arching and stiffening as the pleasure burst inside of her belly, spreading in waves of heat over her body, bringing a flush of blood to her cheeks. "Oh God!" she cried as her toes curled under the spasms of bliss.

Marcus let loose of her nipple and gritted his teeth, feeling the muscles of her sheath convulse around his cock. He began to move harder against her, riding the waves of her pleasure and grasping for his own. He threw his head back in the open crypt, growling her name as he filled her with his sperm. Gasping for air to fill his starving lungs, he relished each sweet pulse of pleasure.

When it was over, he rolled off of her, pulling her up so that she lay across his chest. Angel didn't argue, cuddling against his massive chest and kissing his neck while he reached up and once more closed the crypt.

"You ain't so bad, Wings, for a finicky warrior who's afraid to get his hands dirty."

"You ain't so bad either, Angel, for a sassy mouthed blood sucker who's afraid of commitment."

Angel lifted her head just a bit, her eyes sleepy and half closed. She tried for a glare but it wouldn't come. Instead she nipped at his nipple, feeling him jerk under her while she licked her tongue over the mark and closed the tiny wound.

"Hey! What'd you do that for?" he asked, running his big hands down her back.

"I don't have a sassy mouth," she snipped. "I'm a smart ass. See the difference?"

Marcus's hand came down hard on the soft part of her that she thought so smart. The he cupped the round cheek, squeezing and playing with her firm flesh. "Yeah, now that you mention it..."

"Go to sleep, Wings," Angel sighed.

Marcus kissed the top of her head and sighed. Then he closed his eyes in the murky darkness of the crypt.

He never saw Angel's eyes coming open or the worried look on her face. It was a long time until she slept.

Shadow held both stun sticks in his hands, trying to ignore the shock that was going through his body as he glared at Callie. She looked like hell, her hair stuck to the sweat on her face, welts on her arms and legs from her battle with Angel.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"No," she growled. "So don't worry, your precious team will still be here when you want us around." She yanked on her own stick, trying to pull it from his hand.

"Dammit Callie, I can't talk to you when you act like this." He let go of her stick, watching as she stumbled back a couple steps before righting herself.

"Fine," she said, pushing the hair out of her face. She grabbed her stun stick in both hands, spinning and bringing it down so that it would strike across his chest. Only, he wasn't there when she turned and she stumbled again, this time almost falling to the floor before she caught herself.

"You want to fight me?" Shadow asked from behind her, making her spin around to find him. "Get a bit bigger in the britches, girl, if you think you can take me on."

"Are you saying that I would lose because I'm a girl?" she asked, narrowing her eyes and taking up a fighting stance. "I'm just as good as any agent here and better than some." She attacked again, taking a jolt as his stun stick blocked hers.