Angel: A City of Lost Angels Story

Angel’s POV

They were tangled forever, heaving chests and clinging to each other’s skin. Foggy brains cleared enough to hear the sounds of the party again. Angel was aware of couples nearby engaged in similar activites and a rhythmic song with breathy vocals was playing. Castiel’s forehead was resting against her own and she sighed happily. He pulled from her and fished his pants back up from his ankles. Angel wrestled her pants on while he searched for his shirt. He stood in front of her then truly looking like a greek god with open flowing shirt and neck.

“Shit! Castiel, the necklace!” Her eyes went wide as she registered what the bare skin there meant.

He looked down and patted where it should be. “I think- I think you pulled it off. Maybe by the tables..” He trailed off and disappeared into the crowd while Angel hugged herself. What do they do? Where was Taala? Oh God, what had she done! Oh shit, her head seriously hurt!

Head swirling from movement, she got down from the tires and started the way Castiel had gone. She got two steps in when a hand grabbed her wrist and another snaked around her throat, painfully pushing up under her jaw. “I knew my little pet was a good FUCK! Maybe while I take her essence again she can take mine up that pretty little assss?”

She struggled hard and kicked backwards, making contact with something hard. The snake behind her yelped and swore, then swung her full force into the tires bending her over and pressing her chest to the rubber. A knee rammed between her and spread her wide, weight crushing her back. The hand at her throat squeezed after she managed a small sound she hoped anyone heard over the heavy bass music. A big hand slapped her ass cheek hard over the pants, and then again harder. She was going in and out of pleasure and pain, body and mind wrestling with venom still thickening her blood. Something grabbed her side belt loop and wrenched it down, exposing most of one smacked cheek above her jeans. The other side followed, her tail tucking tight to try and provide a pathetic barrier.

Weight fell full on her. Something stretched the sweater down over one shoulder blade, and she heard ripping sounds as fabric tore. In a blink, searing pain was in her shoulder. She fired her head up hard and knocked it square into some part of the serpent’s face. Suddenly she could breathe with weight released and felt cool air rush her exposed skin. She scrambled blindly to the left with tunnel vision and stars obscuring her vision.

Roaring sounds of anger were around her, then as she fell against something metal, big sweatpants stepped in view commanding “Stay down Angel!” Was that Alastair? Shrieks and yells came from beyond the legs and she made out two flashes of white bouncing off each other in a clearing. One flash shot to the sky and she realized they must be wings!

Blinking repeatedly for vision she stood awkwardly using the metal thing to brace on and focused on the second white form on the ground. It wore clothing, now gruesomely decorated with red and black blood streaks down the front jacket and pants. The pale wearer matched with blood red around his lips and chin, and black blood still pouring from his nose. God, it was Damien!

Her hand flew to her burning shoulder and brought it away slick and red from an open wound. Alastair in front had turned and swore loudly, quickly ripping his shirt off and balling it up to press on her. Heat radiated through the fabric and she vaguely remembered Taala’s teaching about demon’s touch and took the fabric ball herself to push on the bleeding so Alastair could step away.

Damien stabbbed a thin white blade at the sky and bellowed a challenge. A white blur bombed down and knocked Damien to the ground. From the crowd came a cheer and an airborne Dai landed on all fours on top of Damien’s chest, pummeling him with both fists. A loud meowed scream broke free as Damien’s knife disappeared into Dai’s side, the scrappy tomcat still hurling blows when Damien bucked him off.

The white blur landed and stomped toward Damien. Castiel was shirtless with white wings spread wide, his fist up with something glinting silver between his knuckles. Damien cowered, looking an inch big now without his dagger. Castiel throat-grabbed Damien and lifted him like he weighed a feather and punched his upheld fist and the item contained into him. Castiel’s lips moved in a silent speech once Damien dropped.

Cheers from the crowd filled the air. Angel watched mesmerized as Damien disappeared into dust, the tarnished suit and boots left spread in the dirt. Angel pushed in front of Alastair and saw Dai on the ground with Eva, Ellie and a collection of cats stroking him on all sides. From her vantage point she could see he was in pain with the knife in his hands, but sitting upright. She had hardly a moment to turn before a panting Castiel was at her side, hands everywhere on her and speaking so fast it was hard to keep up.

“I’m so sorry Angel, God I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have left you! Oh Hell, your shoulder? Let me look? Jesus, he tore it! It’s ok love, it’s not deep, you’ll be all right. You’ll be all right.” He tugged her close and wrapped wings around her protectively.

“Help Dai?” She forced out.

“He’s fine, Alastair is kneeling with him. Maybe granting a favour? Yes, he’s nodding so I think it’s a favour. He’s a tough cat, he’ll be fine now love. Does anything else hurt?”

She shook her head, but that motion made it pound. “Where’s Taala?”

“Hell, I don’t know. He’s probably pissed at me. C’mon, I think the party’s over. Let’s go somewhere, where do you want to go? Anywhere!”

“The sea?”

“Yes love, I know where. Lean on me, there, let’s go.”