A blanket of pitch black velvet had fallen over the city, the air thick enough to cut through. The small group working their way through the streets still gleamed dimly with color from their glowsticks and flashlights being shined from the phones that still had battery remaining. Even through the thick air, the smell of alcohol and other, unidentifiable substances was unmistakable. They talked among themselves, conversation topics being introduced and promptly dropped as they simultaneously forgot what was being said.
The relative stillness of their buzzing was broken by the cocking of two guns in short sequence. They stopped, their blood running cold, as two shadows emerged from an alleyway close by.
"Alright ya' freaks, it's real simple. Put your hands up and you'll leave here breathin', got that?" said one of the figures.
The group nodded in graceless unison, and put their hands up as the figures approached, the guns held to their chests, visibly clammy hands covering the handles with sweat.
The strike came too fast for a proper reaction, and sent one of the figures crashing to the ground. His partner was startled, but sprung to action, pointing the gun at their attacker, a young woman in her late teens.
"Stay out of this, kid. I'm not afraid to use this thing!" he shouted, his clacking teeth betraying the lie.
As the two stood, reading each other, the street echoed with the sounds of quick footsteps as the partygoers had started running.
"Hey can't you listen!?" the man said, pointing the gun back at them.
Just then came a fierce punch to his jaw. As the pain ran through his body like wildfire, the finger he'd had firmly locked around the trigger slipped, firing a shot into the night, the sound of it being immediately followed by a ghastly scream. As the second punch landed, he lost all consciousness, a haunting black shroud coming over his eyes.
As the woman knelt over the body, the sudden quiet let her hear a mess of crying and shouting coming from down the street. Footsteps were moving towards her. Frantically, she rose, and disappeared into the night. In the distance, sirens screeched.
The day was reaching its late hours, and slowly, the sun was descending below the horizon. They had walked for about 10 minutes, strategically seeking out shadows and covered spaces as they went. Finally, they had reached Crenshaw, where the shelter had its home. Angel stopped in his tracks, and walked over to stand in the shadow of the wall to their right. Faith looked quizzically at him. "What's wrong, A? We're almost there, don't tell me you're tired or something."
"I think you should go in alone." She tilted her head at him. "Do you remember when I said I was here once?" Faith nodded, her expression unchanged. "Truth is, the lady who runs the shelter, Anne, I kinda used her."
Faith pulled slightly back, looking down at the pavement. "Come on, Angel, we all have screws we regret." Her eyes shifted, never meeting his.
"Not like that. I used her trust to take a jab at Wolfram & Hart."
The frown she'd developed turned into more of a ponderous expression. "Well, don't you think she understands? No offense, but the place is super evil."
"Wolfram and Hart is technically the reason this shelter still exists."
Faith sighed, exasperated. "Okay then, but still. You're with them now, shouldn't you be besties?"
"Somehow, I doubt it."
Faith moved in closer. "Look, Angel, I came here because I wanted you. Your help. I know you, and I know that regardless of your past, you're really good at the whole redemption business." Angel didn't respond. "I'm sure we can get this Anne to understand. I need you, Angel, I'm no good at this on my own."
"That's not true, Faith." His expression quickly turned serious.
"Alright, but the gist is, I'm better when I'm with you. Come on, let's go in." She smiled.
Angel looked off to the side, towards the shelter. Looking back at Faith, he stepped away from the wall. He shrugged, and together, they continued down the street.
There was a smell of pea soup in air, the breeze from the open windows futilely doing battle with it. On the practically ancient TV, the flickering screen told of the latest local atrocities. Only few of those on the worn, green couch were actually following along, the one most enraptured, as always, Anne. "The victim's condition is stable, but the third culprit is still on the loose. If you have any information, contact-" The door opened, and a young woman with thoroughly frazzled hair stepped into the room. Anne turned her head, hovering her head over the backrest of the couch.
"Have a good nap, Carrie?" she asked.
She got only a mumble in response. Carrie walked over, floorboards creaking under her, and sat down next to Anne. Anne opened her mouth as if to ask her something, but she was interrupted by three forceful knocks on the door. She saw one of the teens who helped her with management moving towards the entranceway, but stopped him in his tracks.
"I'll get it," she said. She combed her hair with her fingers, then opened the door. Facing her on the other side were a younger woman and a certain, all-too-familiar vampire.
"What's up?" it came from Faith.
"Angel," Anne said.
"Anne," he replied.
Their eyes met, neither showing much emotion. "What brings you back here?" She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Didn't seem to care much for the place last time you were here. Judging by your actions, that is."
"Things change."
"Do you?"
Angel sighed. He was about to respond, when Faith chimed in. "Look, sis, we're here to help."
"Who's the girl?" Anne asked him, dismissing Faith.
"She's a friend of mine. Look, Anne, the reason we're here is that one of the girls at your shelter is in a lot of danger. And it might not be just her."
Anne stood up straight again, still maintaining a defensive posture. "That might be true, but how am I supposed to trust you? The last time you got me involved in your business the shelter almost went under."
"I was a dark place in my life, Anne." He sighed. "This is important. There's already been a break in at this girl's home, and I'm assuming the people behind it weren't throwing a surprise party."
"You're here for Isabel," she said, more as a statement than a question.
Angel raised an eyebrow, but his face quickly returned to its natural, frowning state. "We want to keep her safe."
Anne took a step closer. "You know what, Angel? I believe that. But I'm not sure you're the kind of person I want to be trying to keep my kids safe."
Faith stepped in front of Angel, sparks flying from her eyes. "Listen here, lady, Angel's the best person on the planet if you want someone kept safe. I used to be a murderous psycho bitch, completely off the rails. There was one guy willing to listen, one guy who for some reason made sure I didn't burn myself out, and he's standing right in front of you." She accentuated her story with exaggerated arm movements, clearly riled up.
Anne's eyes widened as she spoke. "That. None of my kids have⦠murdered anyone, but I've heard some real horror stories." There was no doubt, the story had gotten to her. Her eyes darted between Angel and Faith, the gears turning in her mind. Her eyes settled on the former.
"You're lucky you've got the company, Angel. Come in, before I change my mind."
