A/N This is my second Angel fic, the first one being the Acid Rose Series, co-authored by AnDrEwSrObOt. Constructive criticism is appreciated, and just any comments are fine as well. Thank you. Please enjoy.
Footsteps clapped rapidly on the stone ground, three sets of feet rapidly following the first pair. Another person stood by, his figure cloaked within the shadows of the broken building. The young man scrabbled around the corner, three contorted figures following him. As the three figures turned the corner, the man in the shadows became unveiled in the moonlight as he slid out of his hiding space, a steel broadsword in his hands.
The first figure, its head craggy and green, was startled, leaving a large enough gap for the man with the sword to lob off the creature's head. The other two, both like the first, swung at him with their cloven hands, trying to kill him. One managed to tear a gash in his left arm, but the other missed entirely. The man, more agile than his foes, decapitated them in little time as well.
He wiped the dark blood from his sword with a cloth in his pocket. The young man the creatures had been chasing stood dumbfounded. The man turned to him. "Leave. Go home. You shouldn't be out this late at night anyway." The young man nodded and ran off.
After placing his sword in his left hand, and managing to get out the small bottle of powder, he sprinkled some powder on the bodies. They all melted away into little more than a green liquid. His arm stung quite a bit from the wound, and he figured it best to return to his office to get his arm bandaged.
The hotel's atmosphere was somber, the usual sounds now gone, dead forever. Illyria was wandering aimlessly about the grounds, trying to accustom herself to the world of man, and to helping the side of good. She had never been much on evil ever since Wesley had been killed. Fred, the former inhabitant of the shell, had loved Wesley, and it had seemed that some of those emotions had traveled to her. She had been a great help in the final battle with the Wolfram and Hart demons. Several fell to her hands.
Lorne sat behind the front desk, organizing information on recent demon sightings and answering emergency calls. They no longer had a link to the Powers That Be, so they had to rely on the old-fashioned methods. Though while the Internet was not quite so old-fashioned, it still was never going to be as much help as the PTB. He hummed a light tune while he wrote down some things.
Gunn was practicing with a crossbow, shooting a number of targets strategically placed around the lobby. Being confined to a wheelchair for a few more months, he wanted to be prepared if anything attacked the hotel. The wounds he had received a month prior had injured him greatly, and the battle against the Wolfram and Hart demons had injured him almost to the point of death. Fortunately, he held on and survived. None of the damage was permanent, but if he did not stay in his wheelchair for the time he was told to, he could suffer permanent damage.
Connor was a great help around the office. Not only was he a good fighter, he was smart, resourceful, and had taken up the job of locating nests of vampires and demons, as well as researching the nature of unknown demons. However, his father had not allowed him to go alone whenever he was tracking demons or vampires. He was still afraid something might happen and he would lose the only son he had ever had, or would ever have.
The office was quiet when he walked in, but soon everyone came over to him. Any good news was always welcomed. "Hey, uh, those 'vamps' you said were around the downtown vacant lots, weren't actually vamps. They were demons of some sort. Green, rocky, my size, um...And cloven hands and feet. Not the best fighters, so I wouldn't really worry about it. But, Connor, why did you think there were vamps down there?"
Connor was fairly tall, but he was hunched over a bit, his head down as it usually was when something bad had come out of anything. "Freshly killed humans, drained like a vampire. They had the marks and everything. Even the windows in the building were blacked out. I don't see why vampires weren't there."
"Well, I wouldn't worry about it right now. I'll check it out tomorrow. But what you should do in the mean time is try looking for a demon that matches what I described."
"Couldn't you have brought back a head or something?" Connor said with a lighter tone of voice.
"Um, well, I didn't think about that until after I used the melting salts on them. But, that's okay. Just look online. There's bound to be something in there, right?" His broadsword's tip hit the ground lightly. His wound was causing a bit of fatigue in his arm.
Lorne stepped up, taking his sword, and handing it to Gunn. Gunn rolled to the weapons cabinet and placed it in. "Angel, a wound on the arm shouldn't have done that much to you. Listen, go sit down and I'll bring you something to drink, and I'll patch that wound up. Would you like a Martini, Sea Breeze..."
"Some blood is fine."
Lorne sighed. "Okay, but you shouldn't always pass up a drink. You look like you could use one." He disappeared behind the front desk, going to the refrigerator.
Illyria just stared at Angel as he sat down on the couch, soon getting bored and wandering off. It seemed any wound concerned Illyria. Sadness was a powerful human emotion that pounded at her constantly. If anyone else were to die, she couldn't bear it.
But, Lorne seemed to be the most troubled by injuries. He had killed Lindsey, and had never wanted to have anything to do with death and chaos again. But, when he went off to be alone, to be free from terror and death, he found he could not escape it. He tried Las Vegas, but the gigs and the money and the fame did not help him. Demons and vampires also lurked in Las Vegas. Disappearing from evil was impossible. He knew that he had some skills that could help Angel and the others, and he finally decided to come back to L.A.
His attitude had changed greatly. On the outside, he seemed about normal, but everyone could tell that he was on edge at even the slightest mention of death or chaos. They dared not to mention apocalypse in front of him, even if it were good news. They all knew to never ask him to go along on a mission of any sort that had any chance of killing anything. He could not handle it. Just getting him to come back was all they could ask for. They were satisfied with him being the secretary.
Connor didn't really mind the injury, for he had seen so much worse before. After regaining his memory, he decided that he should help his father and his cause. Going to college would not be as fun anyway; he liked to look at it that way, at least.
He left his father at the couch, going to search for the demon online. Wesley's old books, and some of Angel's, were of little help, for they were in dead or demon languages. All Connor had learned was Spanish and French. So, the Internet was the best source of information for all of them. Angel knew some of the languages, but not enough, and he rarely had the time to sit down and translate.
Pressing his hand hard against his forehead, Angel tried to get a clear look at his surroundings, but his eyes blurred a bit, going in and out of clear. Something those demons must have had on their hands must have been affecting him. When Lorne came back with a glass of blood, Angel took it a little rudely, sipping it as fast as he could. When he finished it, he gave the glass back to Lorne.
"Sorry, about grabbing the glass like that I mean. But, those demons did something...and I feel...not quite normal." He felt a little better after drinking the blood, but he was still feeling some of the effects.
"Let me go get the antiseptic and some bandages for that wound of yours. If they had poison, or something, it'd be best to get rid of it now." Lorne quickly went off, going to the downstairs bathroom for the bandages and antiseptic. Lorne had taken to being the, well, secretary. Nobody liked to call him that, but it was what he chose to do, and it was a good role for him to play when everybody else was focused on demons and other monster things.
Someone quickly came up to him. "A Graleshek demon." Angel turned to see Connor at his side. Gunn rolled himself over to them.
"A what the hell?" Gunn said, his attitude as uncouth as usual.
Connor sighed and turned to his handicapped comrade. "A Graleshek demon, devourers of dead flesh. Or, more specifically, vampires. Basically, Graleshek demons, according to the internet source, like to feed on dead flesh, but they like is fresh. So, they hunt vampires to eat there flesh, and they often dust whatever's left of the vampire when they're done."
"What? Do you mean they eat them while they're still undead?" said Lorne, having overheard the explanation from the bathroom.
"Yeah, basically. And their claws in their hands contain a certain paralytic substance, affects vampires like a sleeping pill, or chloroform would on a human." A smack of the door against the outside doorstop drew all their attention.
A darkly clad man, thinner and shorter than Angel, stood at the doorway, platinum blond hair stuck firmly to his head. "And they're bloody damn hard to kill."
"Spike, what do you mean, 'hard to kill'? I killed three of them in less than a minute with minimal effort. Of course, making fun of your strength is great and all, but there is no way you could lose to weaklings like them." Angel felt much better now, the wound having been treated properly. Spike paced around the room, his trench coat swinging gently against his muscled legs.
"How did you kill them? Hack and slash? I tried that, and those damn things regenerate, and bloody fast too. I don't see how you beat them. I had to run out of there, lose 'em by outrunnin' their asses." Spike had changed little from the battle with the Wolfram and Hart demons. He had decided to stay in L.A. for a little while to earn some money by helping Angel Investigations. However, he still did not get along any better with the group than he did before the Apocalypse.
"I had melting salts with me, used them on the demons right after I killed them. I didn't want people to notice dead demons. I guess they die if there's nothing left of them to regenerate." Angel paused, thinking about something. "Spike, how many of them were there?"
Spike was a bit agitated, as he usually was, and he hated answering questions. His pacing sped up. "I dunno, maybe ten, fifteen at the most. Though, only five of 'em were attacking me. The others stood around, watching me. The flesh-eating part explains that now. But, they're slow, dumb, for the most part. Can run a might faster if they choose, but not enough to catch me, not even on their best day."
Angel was analyzing the information with careful thought. "Do you remember where you saw them the first time?"
"Yeah, right by the old packing district, near the vacant lots there. Lotsa old, run down buildings." Angel nodded.
"That's where I saw them too.....Wait a second....Argh, that explains that man running away from them. He was a vampire. He must have been drugged by that paralytic substance and that was why he was so sluggish. I didn't think he was a vampire."
Spike stepped up to Angel a little bit, coming closer to talk, but still pacing. "That's because you've got a damn hero complex and think anybody that's running away from a big scary is good, and the monsters are evil. Not to say that those demons aren't evil, but vampires, save you and me o' course, aren't the best picture of good. And, you and I aren't evil just because we have souls."
"Spike, you may have a soul, but I'm not sure you fit under the same category as me."
"Mr. Hero, when I want your opinion, I'll ask, or just beat you before you can voice another one." Spike was agitated more now, though not beyond normal levels.
"Well, let's just focus on the main issue at hand here. Connor, how do you kill Graleshek demons?" Angel had stood up now, needing to make sure his body was fine now that his wound was treated.
"According to the website, fire is about the only way, or the melting salts, since that seemed to work for you. But, the salts require you to cut down the demons first, and spread the salts on them very soon after dismembering them. Fighting a large number of them could prove that method ill-effective. Fire should work well. We just have to find the building they are hiding in, and burn it to the ground." Connor smiled at the thought of fire.
Gunn rolled his eyes lightly. "You forget that they have to be in a building first off. What if they hear us coming and go outside? Catching each individual one on fire would be a big task. We have to draw them all into a building, make sure they stay there, and then set in on fire."
Lorne raised up his hands to about his chest, making "hold up" motions. "Wait a second here, guys. These demons eat vampires, right? Why do we need to get rid of them? They'll get rid of the vampire population, right? And they will leave after the vampires are mostly gone, or find a way to fight them. We win, either way."
Connor looked at Lorne. "Yeah, we win, until they turn all the recently deceased into zombies. Forgot to mention that part."
"Alright, I'm in. Well, 'in' in the sense of staying here, minding the office, silently cheering you on," said Lorne, taking a big sip of his drink.
"I'd be in," said Gunn, "Except that wheels aren't the biggest intimidation factor, and also that I'd split my gut open doing any moving from my chair. And, a whole bunch of demons are bound to knock me over somehow. I'll stay here with Lorne."
Angel nodded. "That'll work. Connor, get together as many bottles of those melting salts as you can and any oil and lighters you can find. Plus, we need something for torches."
"How about you?" Spike said, smiling wryly.
"What are you talking about?" Angel said, sighing from frustration.
Spike pointed to the horizon, the sky a dark blue. "Sunrise is in less than an hour."
"Oh."
Angel got as much sleep as he could, the others as well, wanting to be fit for a skirmish after dusk. Just after sunset, Angel, Spike, and Connor set out from the hotel to the area where the Graleshek demons had been seen. The trip downtown took none too much time, though it seemed quite a bit longer, Angel and Spike never getting along much anyway.
"Alright, we get those demons to come out to us, and then we light them on fire. If they come into close quarters, we hack them up, and then use the melting salts as soon as they hit the ground. Got it?" Angel emphasized this last bit towards Spike, knowing the platinum-haired badass would want to this his way, and not follow orders.
"Yeah, yeah, I got it. Just stay outta my way or I might hit you with the fire instead." Spike smirked.
"Oh, some 'accident' that would be." Something caught Angel's eye, but when he looked about for whatever it was, he couldn't find anything. Maybe a cat or something.
The three of them headed towards the buildings, staying in front of the row of them, stopping just before entering the block. "Hey, Graleshek demons, come and get dinner. There are two nice and tasty vampires just sitting here, waiting to be eaten." It was cheesy, but it seemed to work. A group of five Graleshek demons came stumbling out of a building to their right.
Connor let fly a water balloon filled with oil, hitting two of the demons that were close together. He then lit the fabric tied around the end of a crossbow bolt, firing at the closer demon, hitting him in his midsection. He went up in flames rather rapidly. He reloaded and did the same to the other.
Angel threw another water balloon at the demons, hitting one. His used the same technique as his son. Spike, however, decided to go up to the demons and fight them head on, a sword in his right hand flailing at the remaining two rapidly. Being too slow to defend themselves well, they were hacked to pieces. He took out a flask of the melting salts and dumped the contents onto the two bodies.
"Spike, you idiot! You were only supposed to use a little bit. Now you don't have any left!" Angel yelled.
Spike turned around to yell back. "Well, if someone had told me how much to use, perhaps I would still have some, you git." He was about to say something else, but a two massive groups came from either side of the three, seemingly performing a pincer maneuver. They had not come across as intelligent, but apparently they were, at least slightly.
At least ten were in each of the groups, probably more. All three resorted to throwing oil-filled water balloons and firing lit crossbow bolts at the demons, but they ran out of the oil rapidly. However, only a total of seven remained after the barrage of oil and bolts. They were almost in sufficient range for hand-to-hand combat. Connor and Angel still had a full flask of melting salts each, good enough for several more demons than there were here, and Angel also had the partial flask left over, though it was only good for one or two more demons.
All three of them possessed swords, so they went about the usual hack and slash routine when the seven came into attack range. They all moved surprisingly slow, and did not execute well-timed or well-planned attacks with their claws. They were all in pieces in a few minutes. Angel threw the partial flask to Spike, indicating to use the rest of it on the two he killed. Angel and Connor used their full flasks to dispose of the remaining five.
Two screeches stopped them dead. Two Graleshek demons came from a building at an amazing speed. They had a strange weapon in their hands. They both held them up, firing two projectiles. The first hit Angel's flask dead on, sending the flask in pieces. Angel moved away from the salts quickly. The second projectile clipped Connor's flask, emptying out over half the remaining amount. He managed to set in on the ground to retain the rest of the salts without burning his hands off.
The demons came fast, firing several projectiles at them. Angel shielded Connor, three projectiles hitting him in various places. Spike was hit in the arm and his side. Both began to feel a bit dizzy.
Something dropped from atop one of the buildings. In an instant, the heads of the two demons fell to the ground, their bodies following. Connor looked at the bodies first, then seeing the black leather boots. He ran up the bodies, using the rest of his flask of the salts on them. Then, he saw the person who had slain the two demons.
Black boots led to black jeans on slender legs, up to a thin waist and female chest clad in a white tank-top and lanky arms and strong shoulders bearing a black jacket about them. Light blonde hair framed the woman's face and waist, two curved daggers in her hands. A smile graced her fair face. "And here I was thinking you three wouldn't leave any for me."
A/N: The end of chapter 1. Just so you know, this won't be a Mary Sue. I don't want anyone to think that. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Please R&R.
