Wes opened his eyes.  It was still daylight outside; he could almost feel the oppressive weight of the sun bearing down on him.  But he was perfectly safe in this room—it was built for a vampire, after all.  The room was lushly furnished, appointed in deep reds and black, but that didn't quite disguise the fact that it had no windows.  Despite, or perhaps because of that, it was quite comfortable, and he had it all to himself.  Morpheus had left Los Angles the night after Wes had drained Lilah, giving him a sense of freedom that he had never known before.  He owed nothing to anyone, except himself.

He could still feel Lilah's blood coursing through his veins…but he wanted more.  He wanted Angel.  Wes lay back in the plush bed and put his arms behind his head, contemplating what Angel's blood would taste like.  It would be powerful, no doubt, but certainly not on the same level as the strange, magical elixir of his Sire.  But it would be far more satisfying.

He might not know where to find Angel, but he could find Connor sure enough.  Wes knew the boy like few did, because he was much like himself, a young man who hated his father, and knew that was all alone in this world.  Wes knew exactly where Connor would run, and he could taste the son's scent in the air even now.  The boy would tell him where Angel was.  And if he didn't…well, Wes did enjoy a good spot of sadism and torture.

Still imagining the taste of Angel's blood, Wes opened the book that had been sitting on the oak dresser beside the bed, and began to read, awaiting nightfall.

***

Gunn was polishing his favorite axe when he walked in.  It had been over a year, but he hadn't forgotten Lindsey McDonald.

2 coats of polish, no more and no less, until he could see his face in the blade.  And then he'd caught another reflection.  One he was sure would never show up in LA again…and yet here he was, and making friendly with Fred to boot.  Growing up on the streets, Gunn had learned to never trust the Man, and lawyers were notoriously out to screw everybody.  He didn't care how much McDonald said he'd changed, Gunn was going to keep his eye on him.

After the lawyer had departed, Gunn gathered his girlfriend into a close embrace.  He wouldn't let anything happen to her.  Without Angel and the rest, they were operating on much less than full strength, which made them vulnerable.

"Charles?  What are we going to do?" asked Fred, despair leaking into her voice.

"Don't worry, baby.  We'll think of something.  We always do," he replied softly, brushing a hand through her soft dark curls.

***

Connor collapsed on his decaying mattress, exhausted.  He'd been out since sunset, doing the only thing he knew—slaying demons.  He'd found this place weeks ago, a burnt out and boarded up old factory with a few rooms mostly intact.  He'd dragged up a few choice pieces of furniture he'd found at the dump, and the place now had a certain "lived in" atmosphere going for it.  The climate didn't affect him, so Connor didn't worry about the wind whistling in from various holes in the walls and the hole that served as both window and door.

Tired as he was, he still noticed when a new presence entered the room.  Connor lay as still as he could, drawing the intruder nearer.  It was a vampire, he could tell.  He didn't know how, but he'd always able to tell what sort of demon stalked him.  Maybe it was just a survival instinct from growing up in Quor'toth.  Maybe it was the legacy of his vampire parents.  He didn't care; he just used it.

The vampire stopped just out of his reach.  "Hello, Connor," it said in a voice Connor recognized.  But how had Wesley become a vampire?  Connor didn't doubt his ability to slay a former teammate, after all, he'd subjected his own father to an eternity of suffering, but he did wonder what the vampire wanted.  "I know you're awake.  You think a vampire can't tell by the speed of a heartbeat.  Yours is beating much too quickly.  Are you afraid?"

Connor gave his mind over to instinct, and back-flipped away from the vampire, putting distance between them.  He glared at the vampire through a tangle of messy brown hair.  "You know I'll kill you," he said cockily.

The vampire responded with a disbelieving glance.  "No, I don't think you will.  I think that you'll tell me where you've hidden Angel."

Now it was Connor's turn for disbelief.  "Why should I tell you?" he spat, eying the vampire warily.  Wes was smarter than Connor had given him credit for.  He thought that he and Justine had left no evidence at the scene.  There had been nothing to lead anyone back to them.

The smile on Wes' face made Connor truly afraid for the first time in a very long while.  "Because if you don't tell me now, you'll tell me when I've tortured you to the brink of death; visited every known horror upon you until you scream for mercy, for anything to make the pain stop.  I know you think you're the most dangerous thing that hunts in the night, but you're quite wrong."  Wes barred his fangs, causing his face to contort in feeding mode.  "Now to be cliché, we can do this the easy way…"

Suddenly the vampire was behind him, holding him so tightly he couldn't even squirm, and Connor could feel teeth at his throat.  "Or the hard way," said the breath in his ear.

"Why the hell do you want to find him anyway?  He deserves what I gave him."

"It's complicated…actually, no, it's not.  Revenge.  And you're going to help me attain it."

"You're going to kill him?  It's too good for him.  The bastard deserves to suffer for all eternity."

"And that's what I intend to do.  Only he's going to be suffering at my hands instead of yours.  Now, tell me where to find Angel before I start having fun."

"One condition—"

Wes laughed.  "You're hardly in a position to post conditions."

"I want to be there," said Connor coldly.