Chapter 4

Los Angeles

"What the hell are you doing?" Lorne said, grabbing Gunn's arm before he plunged the dagger into the S'Tarah demon's gut.

"This guy, I know this guy," Gunn glared down at the demon; a thirst for the kill still in his eyes.

"Good, maybe you can get him to talk." Lorne frowned.

"No, not like that. He… helped-" Gunn couldn't speak. Memories of what happened years ago came rushing back. Lorne could've sworn the man was holding back tears.

Gunn shrugged off Lorne's touch and stormed away from the supply closet, leaving Lorne a bit confused and the S'Tarah demon now unconscious.

"Hmm," the Deathwok Clan demon said, putting his hands on his hips. "You just may get your wish to die after all."

"Do you think they'll come back for her?" Cordelia asked, taking a seat on the couch next to Wesley. He still clutched the ice pack onto his skull.

"Who? Abby? I don't think so. We should probably get her home as soon as possible. Her parents must be worried."

"That's the thing, she doesn't have any," Cordelia whispered. They both looked in Abby's direction. She sat on the stage entertaining herself with some type of magical doohickey Lorne allowed her to fiddle with. She glanced at Wesley and Cordelia momentarily.

"You're sure?" the former watcher asked, slightly frowning. Cordelia nodded.

"They were killed when she was young, she told me. Case was never solved, the bodies were just found mangled." Cordelia shrugged. "She lives in a foster home a little ways from here."

"No matter, we should get her there." Wesley poked out his chest, cracking his back in the process. "She's definitely a lot safer there than she is with us."

"Maybe…it's just… I kinda have a vibe that these S'Tarah guys came after her specifically, not just some random girl."

"Do tell." Wesley nodded.

"Well, Abby told me she had this feeling like she was being watched for days. Like she said, she thought her friends were playing a joke on her. Each time she left the foster home or walked from school, she either heard footsteps or someone in the bushes. All those incidents were in broad daylight, but when she was taken, it was at night. She was working on a project at school and left kinda late."

"So you believe these S'Tarah wanted her specifically?" Wesley raised a brow.

"Yeah, and maybe whatever happened to her parents may be linked to why the lizard guys wanted her."

"You think we should do some digging then?"

"I think so."

"Hey!" Lorne turned a corner from the back of the club. "Your demon fightin' pal come out here?"

"No," Wesley said. Cordelia shook her head.

"Last I saw he was headed to interrogate our lizard guy," she added.

"Yeah, yeah well I found him wailing on our lead; took out a dagger to finish the job." Lorne folded his arms.

"Why would he do that?" Cordelia looked questionably from Wes to Lorne.

"No clue," Lorne shrugged. "Once I stopped him, he said he knew the guy. He helped do something…then he just scurried off."

"Huh, maybe a demon from his past." Wesley offered.

"Should one of us go talk to him?" Abby piped in, worried.

"Um…it's good to let Charles handle his personal issues alone…sometimes," Cordelia said.

"Well when he tried to do that he nearly gutted that S'Tarah like a fish." Lorne nodded back to the supply closet. "He's out right now, but he'll probably gain consciousness in a few."

"You know what Lorne," Wesley said a moment or two later. "There's something pulling at the back of my mind. If this situation is so huge, why only call us? You didn't happened to phone-"

"Angel? Yeah, yeah I did." Lorne nodded, hoping the mention of the vampire wouldn't make Cordelia jump up and slap him silly.

As far as the empath demon knew, things were still pretty shaky between them and Angel. But, as much as Cordelia, Wesley, and Gunn might've perhaps hated him at the moment, this was an apocalypse. He needed the big guns.

If he had her number, he might've considered phoning that Slayer in Sunnyville…or Sunnydale.

"Now, I know things are kinda wonky between you guys," Lorne put up a hand in defense. "But we may need him."

"No, no I understand." Wesley's eyes fell to the floor, clearly both angry and disappointed. He looked over to Cordy, who had her arms folded and eyes cocked to the ceiling annoyed. Wesley nudged her.

"Yes, yes," she said, rolling her eyes to Lorne. "We may need him."

"May need who?" came a voice at the entrance steps of Caritas. Lorne, Cordelia, Wesley and Abby looked to see who had joined in on the conversation

Angel.

Sunnydale

Buffy's stomach immediately churned as she watched the thirty or so snakes whip through the Magic Box. No witches, not enough soldiers, and a hellish fear of serpents altogether… how the hell was she gonna do this?

"Crap." The slayer heard Xander muttered behind her.

"What do we do?" Anya whimpered.

"We start slashing until they're all gone." Buffy said confidentially, though she knew it wasn't exactly a good plan.

The trench coat man simply giggled.

"It isn't gonna be that easy." He said.

Just as the snakes began to strike, the man's head suddenly fell; slashed away. A couple of his pals went down with him. The other snakes seemed to soak back into the man's headless body. Pretty soon, it seemed as if they never existed. The man fell to the ground, the hissing and giggling stopped.

Another figure appeared where the trench coated man stood; the slayer's savior. He held a short blade in the air, green slime dripping from it.

After making sure trench coat guy was out and none of his snake buddies were coming back, the man lowered his blade and looked up to Buffy.

She saw that his pupils were completely black. His skin was oddly tan; his hair a neat brunette color; his body tight and well muscled; scales trailed along his bulky arms, arms which he no problem displaying with the black tank top he wore and baggy camouflage pants and black tennis shoes he topped it off with.

Aside from the buzzed out eyes, he seemed almost handsome… as handsome as non –human creatues could be of course…but before Buffy could swoon, she had to know if he was one of the good guys or if he just wanted to take credit for killing the Slayer.

"Who are you?" Buffy stepped forward.

"That is how you thank someone who just saved your life?" he asked. His voice was familiar.

"I'm normally the one doing the saving." She corrected.

"There is no need to worry, slayer. I am Zeke." He said, bowing.

"Okay, what do you want Zeke?" Buffy folded her arms.

"To help you avert the emerging apocalypse." He simply answered, as if she already knew the world was about to end…again.

"What?" Buffy frowned.

"I am the one who led you to the bodies, and I'm afraid that they're more of him," he nodded to the decapitated- trench coat guy. "All over, collecting hearts for something big."

"Oh great," Xander sarcastically replied.

"Ah yes," Giles said, coming to Buffy's side. "But what exactly?" he looked inquisitively at Zeke.

"There will be plenty of time to explain," Zeke said.

"If there's an apocalypse, there's no such thing as time. We need to know everything, now." Buffy ordered, taking a step closer to the man.

"Fine, but" Zeke looked down at trench coat guy's severed head. It almost seemed to have moved. "Their heads reattach in a certain amount of time and I'm afraid we've reached that time."

The head glided back to its body and suddenly clung onto the remains.

"Step back!" Zeke demanded, raising his sword.

He jammed it right through the skull.

The head didn't move.

Los Angeles

"Well look what the cat dragged in," Cordelia said, folding her arms as she stood from the couch. She glared at Angel with a fire in her eyes. Angel was sure if she had the power she'd set him ablaze right then and there. But her little glare suddenly twitched into a wince, she wrinkled her nose. "Or, what dragged in the cat. What is that smell?" she covered her nose.

"Oh, I was in the sew-" Angel started.

"Don't care," Cordelia interrupted, shaking off her look of disgust. "I'd ask what you're doing here, but it seems there's an apocalypse and…Lorne needs you." Cordelia walked off to join Abby on the stage. She had set aside the magical contraption she was playing, which resemebled some kind of sewing machine. Cordelia shot Angel one last look of disgust.

"Thanks for coming Angel," Lorne nodded, stuffing his hands nervously in the pockets of his bright blue pants.

"You know me, I'm always up for an apocalypse," he lightly smirked. His eyes fell upon an injured Wesley, who remained on the couch upon his arrival. "Wes," he nodded.

"Angel," Wesley nodded back, clearly a bit hesitant to speak to him.

"You alright?" the vampire asked, gesturing to the ice pack on his head.

"Just fine. It's just the price you pay for fighting a good fight,"

"Right," Angel nodded once more. It was silent for a few moments; Lorne almost let it continue, but he remembered the world was at stake.

"So, uh, Angel. As you may already know by my colorful phone message, we have a bit of an… end of the world crisis here."

Gunn sat on the roof of Caritas, hoping the view of the city would calm his nerves; ease the horrid memories far from his mind. But it didn't work. Every second, more and more details of what happened that night faded back.

All the bodies, the blood, the death.

Why'd they make me leader? He kept questioning. It never would've happened.

He tried so hard to fight back the urge to return to that supply closet to kill the S'Tarah. He knew exactly what he was.

He knew exactly what that guy did.

He took part in the slaughter of almost half his old crew back in '97.