Lines of Shadow: Sequel to Somewhere Between

Again, this chapter is a little shorter than I anticipated, but I made some HUGE edits from my journal to the final word document (felt like I gave too much away). A few pages got axed. I do like this version better though.

Um, fair warning, there's a little Tail! in here. I'm sorry, it's a new fetish.

- John

The minute we're in the house, Red's got the TV on and has dropped into the giant armchair we brought with us from the Bureau. No way is he going to tease me like that in the car and just forget about it. I veer to the left off the entryway and down the hall to our bedroom.

Tugger, a tabby, comes out from under the dresser to rub against my legs. He's one of the three cats we managed to trim the pride down to. Moving out of the Bureau meant we could potentially catch the eye of animal control. BPRD set us up in a house about seventy miles outside of Clifton, New Jersey. We've got a half-dozen acres of land around the house, but we still have to be careful. Anything that could get us noticed is out of the question. After a few days of very heated arguments, HB eventually agreed that forty-something cats could do just that.

I scratch Tugger's back, earning a small purr, and toe off my shoes. Heading into the bathroom, I shrug out of my shirt, jeans, and underwear as I walk. The lube is still on the counter where Red left it last night. I grab the tube and freeze when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

My hair is matted with blood. The gash on my head isn't bleeding anymore, but I'm a mess. There's a wide trail of coagulated blood leading from my hairline, down my jaw and throat, and to the point where my shirt absorbed it. I stick my head under the faucet and gingerly rinse the mess out of my hair. Once the water is running clear again, I take a washcloth to the side of my face to scrub away the rest. It takes a few minutes before I'm satisfied. HB won't care, but I do.

I grab the lube again and cut through the back hall that takes me to the kitchen. If I'm going to streak, I want to surprise Red so I can get a close look at his expression. The couch and chair face away from the kitchen, so I should be able to slip into his lap and smack him with a little shock factor.

When I poke my head into the living room, HB is still rooted in front of the TV. He's tuned into the news, but his tail is hanging over the armrest and I can see that it's twitching slightly. He won't stay on the channel very long because it's boring him. His tail curls back on itself as Red flips stations. I'm not paying any attention to what he changed it to because an idea just struck me… or at least my dick.

I move quickly, coming around HB and throwing my legs across his hips before he can do anything but raise his eyebrows.

"Oh, what-"

My mouth crashes against his, killing whatever quip he was going to throw out. Red's stone hand curls heavily across the back of my hips, yanking me forward to press against his chest. An approving growl rolls out of Red as his hands roam over my bare skin. My pleasant shudder is enough to make him smile into our kiss. I tug at his shirt, encouraging him to lean forward so I can pull it over his head. When he tries to resume our lip lock, I lay my fingers against his mouth.

"Wait, I want to try something new."

I swear that's Red's favorite sentence. His expression manages to be both surprised and slightly predatory at the same time. I'm already squeezing some of the lube into my hand when he asks, "What're you thinkin', baby?"

Tossing the lube to the side, I lean in until my nose is brushing his, breathing the hot air that he exhales as I grab his tail and slick it with lube. His eyes flick to my hand and back again, glinting gold in the light from the TV. The smirk that spreads on his face looks almost evil. For half moment, I'm wondering whether or not this was a good idea.

"You look like you want to eat me," I whisper.

He kisses me and tongues my lower lip, "Fuck yeah."

Red shifts his thighs open, forcing mine as wide as the armchair will allow. The only warning I get before Red's tail sinks into me is the heat of his skin against the inside of my legs. It's not what I was expecting, at all really. His tail is much skinnier than his cock, but I haven't exactly had any prep, so it burns a little. With HB's size, there's always some pain. I'm used to that.

At first, he just pushes it in a few inches, drawing it out and thrusting it a little deeper. Red's mouth falls on my shoulder, my neck, my collarbone, biting and sucking until my head is swimming. His mouth is better than his tail… I just keep thinking about that twisting thing he does with it sometimes. I don't even know if it's something he can do voluntarily, but I'm hoping.

"Red," I groan as his tail brushes my prostate. "Will you… twist it?"

Red pauses, arching one brow as he repeats, "Twist it?"

I'm not making myself very clear and I doubt I'm going to be able to muster up a decent explanation with my blood leaving my brain in favor of my smaller, more excitable head. I try to mimic the motion with my hands but it looks… awkward.

"Shit," I grumble and drop my head onto his shoulder. I'm just aroused enough to be a complete idiot when I talk. "That thing that you do when you're annoyed, when you, you know… sorta'…"

He hums some sort of acknowledgment and asks with an amused lilt to his voice, "Like this?"

His tail writhes inside of me and I can't stop my unadulterated groan of ecstasy. Pleasure roars up my body, making my hands curl and uncurl against Red's chest without any prompting from me. My mouth falls open and for a moment I can't breathe.

"Oh god," comes out with my long awaited exhale.

Red does it again, but times it with a sharp thrust upward and my mind goes blank. I barely recognize the sounds coming out of my mouth then, but I can tell they're affecting Red. I turn my face into his skin, breathing deep the scent of his arousal. I can't smell it as well as I could as a wolf, but it's still enough to make me dizzy. It's musky and sharp, a bit like the smell a forest gets after a hard rain. Mixed with the tang of his sweat and the lingering bitterness of cigar smoke, it's a scent that can make me horny much faster than anything else.

Not that there is any lack of stimulation in this relationship.

My wings spasm inside my back as orgasm drifts within reach (Don't try and figure out the physics of me being able to keep a ten foot wingspan inside my body, Blue and I tried for almost a month before we wrote it off to celestial magic). I grab at Red's belt buckle, jerking the stiff leather out of the catch. "Come on, Red."

He pushes his tail in deeper, almost too far, and curls it hard against my prostate. "Wings, now," he growls and finishes undoing his pants.

His dick springs free, hard and heavy against his stomach. My eyes follow it hungrily. Red slides his tail out of me, adjusting my hips so he can get his dick in position. While he's slicking himself with some spit since the lube landed who knows where, I close my eyes and try to remember which new muscle controls my wings. I don't use them much, except during sex… actually, I don't think I've ever had them out for any other reason.

"Wings, baby," he growls again, pressing the head of his cock into me.

I find the muscles and roll my shoulders backwards to ease my wings out. HB licks the hollow of my throat, urging me to tilt my chin up a little more. His fingers work into my feathers. It's all I need to set off my orgasm.

White-hot ripples coarse through me, cascading up my spine and making my wings twitch and flex. My cum plasters our stomachs, gluing our skin together. I can already feel my penis getting hard again. Red hooks his palms behind me knees and lefts my legs, forcing me down onto his cock.

I'm not sure who groaned. I think it was me, but pressed so tight against Red's chest, I could've felt him make the sound. Although, it was more needy and less growled, so I'd bet good money that it was me. I close my eyes to savor the feeling of his pulsing, ridiculously hot cock inside me and when I open them, everything is white.

What…

It's not white like I've just orgasmed again white, it's like someone tied a bandanna over my eyes kind of white. And then I notice that everything is completely silent too. I can't hear Red's breathing or feel his body heat… I look around frantically, hoping something will change. "Red, I can't see." My words are so loud in my ears, like I'm talking in a tiny, enclosed space.

What's going on?

"Red?"

I don't get an answer of any kind.

"Hellboy," my voice cracks a little. Panic is not unusual for me, as sad as that is to admit, but I think losing all my senses at once is a very good reason to panic. Any sane person would… right?

"Forgive the intrusion," a quiet, unfamiliar voice says from behind me.

I whip around to face a man who's slightly taller than I am. Though his feet look like he should be standing on something solid, he's just floating in the white void that took the place of my regular sight. He has long blonde hair that curls down his back in heavy waves and his gaze is old, almost fathomless. His most striking feature is his right hand, which looks like it's been carved from white marble. I've only met him once, but I remember him well enough.

"Michael?"

He barrels through introductions because he either knows he really doesn't need one or doesn't care, "My time is limited, but I must tell you what I can."

"Wait, what? Why are you here at all? And how the hell did you-"

Michael cuts me off by lifting one hand with the palm facing forward. Even with as completely confused as I am, I feel like I should abide by the simple gesture. Something is wrong here, very, very wrong. There are bloodstains on his robes and I think they might be his. Isn't the archangel Michael supposed to be a great warrior? Who could do this kind of damage to him?

"I'm sorry to call upon you so soon after your creation, but I need your help. You must go to Cairo to collect an artifact I've left behind. It is no longer safe with me. There is someone there who can teach you how to use it-"

A loud banging noise draws Michael's attention to something over his shoulder, something I can't see. Whatever he's using to communicate with me has a very limited field of vision. He turns back after a moment and his form gets much larger, almost filling my mind's eye. "I haven't the time to explain anything else. You must find those loyal to mankind. Your partner can bring them together, he can lead them. Even if it's hidden beneath layers of brashness, he has a gift. Help him use it."

"Why us? Why me?" I have too many questions and no answers.

Michael smiles. It looks wrong on him, like his face might crack from the effort. "Because you are made of my flesh and blood. You are the only angel with a human soul. I have faith that you will be the one to end this."

Another voice chuckles. The sound is dead, ugly. It sends a chill through me. "There's no need for faith anymore, Michael. Or haven't you noticed that He's not listening?"

Michael turns and is immediately slammed backwards. I throw my arms up like he might run into me, but instead there's a cracking sound and the entire image fractures into smaller pieces. Everything is black for a moment. I'm beginning to think that the communication was broken, but Michael is lifted away and turned until I can see who is attacking him. He's tall and built, covered from his shoulders down in medieval-style armor that's streaked with blood. His hair has the same curl as Michael's, but it's dark, so dark it almost seems to absorb the light that hits it.

The attacker grins, holding Michael aloft by his robes, "Why don't you fight me, Michael? I'm offended."

I should not be here. Whoever this being is, he's extremely dangerous and I don't want him to see me. I don't want him to know about me… I don't want to get in a fight with him. Just looking at him scares me, actually. I don't know why, since very few monsters can inspire real terror in me anymore and this thing looks fairly human, but it feels like sharp icicles are working their way into my muscles. My heart is hammering so hard I swear he can hear it.

Michael glances in my direction, wrapping his flesh fingers around the other man's gauntlet as he says, "And thou shalt not harm thy brother because he is of thy blood. To shed thy brother's blood is to shed thy own…"

"Then I suppose we'll both be dead," the dark-haired being states calmly, drawing a large sickle from his side. The metal almost seems to hiss as it leaves the sheath.

He slices across Michael's neck in one easy move. Blood gushes onto the broken screen, filling my vision with red. I blurt out a loud "No!" before I can think twice. "Oh god, oh god," I whisper, knowing that the attacker must have heard me. What am I supposed to do? I want to wake up, to get out of here, to turn this… this… whatever it is, off!

A dark shape wipes the blood off enough of my vision that I can see the attacker's cold, calculating gaze staring straight at me. My throat closes when my eyes lock with his. He smiles and I swear my heart stops.

"So you're the one."

The image shatters, but his cackling laughter rings in my ears.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Why Cairo?" Hellboy asks for about the tenth time.

After we got past the fact that I had a conversation with Michael while I was unconscious, I tried to explain what happened. I know HB is confused, but I don't have any more to go on than he does.

I've pulled a suitcase out from under the bed and am going back and forth between that and the dresser. Every time I want to put something in the suitcase, I have to move Sammy (a tiny Calico) out of the way. She tries to curl up on each new layer of clothing. Finally, I toss her into the bathroom and shut the door, disregarding her annoyed yowl.

I don't know, Red. He just told me to go to Cairo. Something is happening out there, something huge."

Red grabs my arm gently, maneuvering me so he can look me in the eyes, "But why are we getting involved?"

The worry on his face is hard to ignore. Red loved his work at the Bureau, it was the one thing he was really good at, but he gave that up to keep me safe. I'm not blind to that. It's just that something about the attack on Michael has been eating at me. Something that won't let me just stand aside.

"Because we have to," I say quietly, putting my hand over his stone one.

When I pull away to keep packing, I notice Red's tail curl with frustration (I've never going to look at THAT the same way again.) "No, we don't," he raises his voice. It's not quite a yell, but its close. "This is bullshit. It's not our fight and we don't need to make it our fight!"

I feel my own exasperation rising and try to push it down. "Red, if what I think it going on is really happening, it's going to be everyone's fight," I try to reason with him, going to the closet to gather our weapons.

Red rills the closet door with his body, pinning me in. I ignore the act for the moment, shoving our hanging clothes aside so I can get to the guns hidden behind them.

"'Scout," he starts, trailing off while he watches me.

I study our unique array of weapons, trying to decide what we might need. I don't even know what we're fighting, so how am I supposed to know whether holy water or silver or regular lead will do the trick? I pick up a box of nine-millimeter shells for my handgun, musing aloud, "Should I bring the hollow tips, or…"

"Neither," Red grouses, taking the box of bullets from me and pushing them back onto the shelf. "We're staying home. Let someone else handle this."

"Michael came to us! Who else-"

Red cuts in, "He came to us because he has something to hold over our heads! He brought you back from the dead and thinks that it's going to make me feel obligated to help him! Fuck him!"

We glare at each other for a long time. I don't know what to say to him, except to bring up the fear that's been chewing up my insides. When he crosses his arms over his chest, I know he's not going to be the first one to break our little glaring match. I drop my eyes to the floor for a second and collect my thoughts. I don't want to have this fight. I need him to stand with me, to support me.

"Michael has the same key that you do. Whoever killed him has it now and I'm afraid that they're going to use it… Whatever he's hidden out in Egypt could help us stop all that," I admit in a low voice, raising my eyes again to meet Red's wavering glare.

His brow furrows a little as he chews on what I've said. Finally, his arms drop to his sides and he steps out of my way. I grab a few boxes of ammo and slide past him to deposit them on the bed. The suitcase is already full of our clothes, so I snag a duffle bag from the corner of the room to load our weapons.

"How are we going to get to Cairo? I can't exactly fly coach," Red sounds tired, defeated maybe.

I drop my pistol onto the bed, my guilt stirring heavily against my anger. Red leans against the dresser, resting his stone hand on the surface and shoving his flesh one deep in his pocket. He doesn't look at me, but he's not really looking at anything else either. I go to him and hook my arms around his waist. Automatically, he mirrors the action.

"We need to do this," I say, letting my head rest against his shoulder. "Please tell me you're with me."

His hand trails up and down my spine a few times before he answers me, "I go where you go. You know that."

We stand there for almost ten minutes, Red petting my back and hair. This whole thing is making him nervous. I'm not sure why he's not throwing out more jokes, but it's pretty easy to tell even without them. Watching me die changed him a little. He's still brash and loud and inappropriate at all the right times, but then he has moments like this when he's got to hang onto me like I'm some kind of dream that will vanish if he doesn't.

"I think we should go back to the BPRD. They can help us get out to Egypt," I suggest.

Red sort of snorts at the idea, "All you've got to go on is a weird hallucination you had during sex. How are you going to convince them to loan us a plane?"

That's an excellent question, even if he could've used more tact when phrasing it. I'm the only one who's deeply convinced that what I saw is real. And it's not just a plane we're asking to borrow, it's a pilot and crew…

Maybe we can figure it out on the road.

"Come on, pick out what weapons you're taking and let's get on the road," I say, smacking his chest with an open palm and pointing at the closet.

No surprise, he grabs the Samaritan and a large selection of trinkets that I haven't even begun to learn the purpose of. After packing the weapons duffle to my liking and leaving a few trays of food out of the cats, we get on the road.

I kind of forgot that Red didn't get off (I was a bit busy with the Michael dying thing) but it becomes blatantly apartment during the hour and a half drive to the bureau. Red keeps touched and teasing me until I have to pull the car over and jump on him. It lengthens our trip a little, but at least he stops complaining. Not that I mind, because our sex is always amazing, even when it's fast and sloppy. It takes me a few minutes to find my pants once we're finished.

It's very late when we pull up to the bureau's gates. Over the years, there's been various renovations made, including far better security at the gate. I thumb the intercom button and it takes a scan of my fingerprint. From there, I have to state my name for voice analysis and then press my finger against the call button a second time to give a blood sample. The sharp prick makes me inhale through my teeth.

A very welcome voice comes on the speaker once everything has cleared, "Your visit is unexpected but pleasant, Agent Myers. Is Red with you?"

I grin, nodding, "Yes, Blue, he is. Why are you answering the gate?"

"Well, I was awake and had a feeling you might be coming."

Red leans into the front, yelling over my shoulder, "Damn Blue, get your mind outta' the gutter."

"I doubt that I am the one located there at this time." The gate slowly opens and Abe adds, "I'll join you shortly in the garage."

Red laughs and drops back into his seat. As we pull around the building, I clear my throat.

"Hey, Red, could we omit the fact that I had this vision while we were having sex? I doubt that detail is important."

I can hear the smile in his answer, "Aw, really? You don't want our colleagues to know about-"

"Red, seriously!"

"And the tail, and-"

"You are two seconds from getting hit."

"They could take some pointers away. Could be a useful briefing."

I can feel my blush spreading at just the thought of telling anyone. It's bad enough that Blue reads minds. Poor guy has probably gleaned WAY more than he ever wanted to know from Red and me. I grab the nearest object, which turns out to be an empty to-go cup, and lob it blindly over my shoulder at him. He keeps laughing.

I pull our SUV into the garage. Red's out in a second, stretching his legs and rolling his shoulders. Even with as big as the SUV is, he's still cramped on a long drive. I follow after him, going around to the back to get our bags.

"No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow," Blue's voice reaches us just before he comes into view from around one the bureau's vehicles.

"You got me on that one. Who said it?" I ask, smiling.

"Lin Yutang. It is wonderful to see both of you."

Red grabs the duffle out of my hand and drops an arm over Abe's shoulders, steering him back towards the base, "So how are you fairing as the BPRD's new top agent? You gettin' things down or are you still getting your ass kicked around?"

I sigh and shake my head at Red's bluntness. Grabbing the suitcase, I tail after the two of them. He'd never admit it, but I think there are only two things Red misses about the bureau: getting into epic battles with evil and hanging out with Blue.

"I'm actually fairing surprisingly well. I've been through some vigorous training and I make sure to fit in some shooting practice every day."

The opening is too good, so I throw in, "Well, you're a step ahead of Red then. He doesn't even know where the shooting range is."

I grin at HB when he glares at me. He lifts his arm off Blue's shoulders, gives me a light smack on the chest, and takes the suitcase from me. "Smart ass," might be what he grumbles, but I can't be sure.

After living so many years as a wolf, it's like my senses are stuffed with cotton all the time. I miss knowing what's going on around me. I mean, I know what's going on, but I used to REALLY know. I could hear how fast someone's heart was beating, smell my target from miles away, see without turning on the lights... My last year as a wolf was awful, but strangely, I miss it.

"So why are you headed to Cairo?" Abe asks, cutting straight to the quick of things as usual.

"We don't really know, we're just going on what Michael told John-"

Blue jumps in. The question is devoid of an emotion, but I swear I can feel the disbelief in it, "In a dream?"

Heat crawls across my face. I wish I didn't have to be here for this conversation. I think about making a run to the kitchen with the 'I have to feed Red' excuse, but I doubt it'll fly since I bought him fast food on the way over.

"Sorta'. Boyscout passed out and when he woke up, he was babbling about somebody executing Michael and that we need to go to Cairo," Red fills him in as we reach the conference room. Thank god no one else is here yet. Red throws our bags onto the floor and drops into one of the black leather chairs, propping his boots up on the table. Flecks of dried mud fall on to the polished wood.

I smack the toe of his boots and he slides them off, frowning slightly. "They're filthy. I wouldn't let you put them on our coffee table like that."

"Yes, mom," he replies snidely, smirking at me.

Completely ignoring our exchange, Blue starts going over things, "Leonitus is on the way now. We'll give him the brief we have and hopefully we can convince him to loan you a plane. By the sound of things, you could run into trouble out there."

"I'm hoping," Red says.

I sit down in the chair next to him and pray that the growing knot in my stomach goes away. Red might be looking forward to the prospect of a good fight, but I'm getting the feeling that we're headed into something that the word 'trouble' does not even begin to cover.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

TBC…

Ba bum baaaam! And so the plot thickens! For those of you asking about returning characters, the answer is yes. And thank you to all of you lovely people leaving me reviews. I always love reading them because they inspire me to work just a little bit harder. Your feedback means everything to me (it actually helps shape the story itself).

I'm very busy with the holidays right now, so it might be a little while before I can finish the next chapter. I'll get to it as soon as I can.