Part Three

They'd wrapped on taking the photographs and Cordelia had headed back to her dressing room. But, instead of changing back into her street clothes and going home - as she assumed Fabio was doing, she simply covered up her costume with the terry cloth white robe they'd given her, draped a cross around her neck and grabbed the stake from her purse. Then she peered round the doorway to check the coast was clear and crept down the corridor.

She scurried along to the next door and pressed her ear against the wood - but this turned out to be Fabio's dressing room - and all she could hear was Gloria Gaynor blasting out of some radio or C.D player and Fabio singing along as he changed. She moved on.

The next door was slightly ajar - and she peeked through the crack to see what was inside. But this was the room where the photographer had kept all their equipment, and he was in there dismantling his lenses and putting them away safely. She moved along, once again. She knew the next door led into hair and makeup, so she left that one alone and headed for the final door on the corridor.

Like the photographer's had been, this doorway was slightly open and, as she crept up and looked inside, she caught a glimpse of the vampire execs. Found them. She stood beside the open door, her back pressed against the wall, her stake gripped tightly in her hand, and craned her neck - peeking inside to try and get the lay of the land, work out where all the vampires were before she just barged in there stakes blazing.

This room was set up like an office, and one of the vampires was sat behind a desk, his feet up on it. He was playing with a letter opener. Another was over by the window - which was blacked out, of course. She couldn't see the horn guy or the other vampire, though - and she assumed they must be standing just the other side of the wall from her.

From here she could make out what they were saying to each other - and she held her breath and listened in.

'Returns are looking like 12%,' she heard the one behind the desk say. 'If we can get the dark forces to align, please the right movers and shakers of the underworld, grease their palms - assuming they have palms - we might be able to push it up to 15 - maybe 20%.'

'That's assuming she's good for it.' Cordelia couldn't see the one who was speaking now. 'We're taking a big risk on the unknown.'

But the guy behind the desk just shrugged. 'Green guy says she's good for it. A pure soul. Exactly what they're looking for down in the lower realms. She'll give us everything we need - and she won't even know it.'

The men inside the room began to laugh - dark and unpleasant - and Cordelia gripped her stake tighter. They were talking about money - she knew enough about business to recognise that - and from the sound of it they were trading with the lower realms. That was probably how they got all their wealth and power in the first place. The dark side was always financially more secure than the good guys - look at the way the rest of the team were now living it up with sports cars and helicopters now they'd gone to Wolfram and Hart; whilst her and Doyle were still scraping behind the couch cushions trying to make this month's rent. She didn't know if the 'Unleashed' fragrance line was just a front for their shady activity or if it was a real business with backers from hell - but either way, these guys were toast. She could only hope that once she'd toasted them - she still had a job as the face of the perfume. That the whole company didn't crumble like a pyramid scheme under investigation from the Feds. The money for this job was really good - and she wanted more!

She leaned her head closer to the crack in the door - and listened some more...

Nina was dragged from the back of the van and bundled in through the back doors of a very grand looking house and dragged down to the basement. She struggled and fought the whole way but the guy's holding her were too strong. She was pulled inside a dark room and then two men began to chain her wrists, using shackles dangling from the ceiling. 'No! Let me go!' she cried, as she twisted and struggled in her chains, 'What are you doing, let me go - you have to let me go! Please!'

But they didn't listen to her. Once she was secured and could not get free, they stepped back and a third man turned a hose on her, spraying her with a great gush of cold water. She choked and sputtered, and stumbled back a little under the force, but was held in place by her chains.

Then, she watched warily as a woman stepped up towards her. The woman took out a pair of scissors and began to cut Nina's top away from her body. Nina began to cry as she was left chained and exposed in front of these strange men. Then the woman took a rough sponge and began to scrub down Nina's skin. Nina's whole body shook, as she sobbed with distress and fear.

Since Fred had got back to Wolfram and Hart and told the team what had happened - how Nina had been kidnapped - they had gone into overdrive trying to sort it. Lorne had pulled in everyone at the company who had known about Nina and was listening to them sing. So far he'd heard the entire security team, the lab staff and half of Wesley's department. If anyone inside the firm was responsible - he would find them. Currently he was listening to Dr. Royce, the cryptozoologist, warble away.

'And she's loving him with that body, I just know it. And he's holding her in his arms late, late at night…'

His aura was clear, Lorne glanced through the big window that separated the conference room from Angel's office and gave them the thumbs up.

...

Inside the office the rest of the team were trying to work the problem their own way. 'The scary thing was how organised they were,' Fred told the men, she held an ice-pack against her head where she had been knocked out. 'Almost military.'

'An underground military organisation that hunts monsters,' Wesley frowned, thoughtfully, 'it's happened before.'

'It's all my fault. I'm stupid,' Fred said bitterly.

But Angel shook his head - half at her words and half trying to get the song Royce was singing out of his head. Those lyrics could have been written by him - about Cordy and Doyle and how he, Angel, felt about that. But that wasn't the point, here - not what mattered. Finding Nina and keeping her safe was the mission today, that's where he needed to focus. 'Anything happens to Nina, it's on me,' he assured Fred.

She wasn't convinced though. 'That's weird. Why don't I just approach the mysteriously ajar door?' she said sarcastically.

Gunn gave her a comforting look. 'Enough with the mocking - we get that enough from Blondie Bear.'

That made Fred suddenly remember - he'd winked out of existence before she left with Nina. And he said his absences were getting longer - that he was being trapped in hell for longer. She looked around at the others, concerned. 'Spike - has anyone seen him since…'

'He went poof? No.'

She got to her feet, 'but it's been hours, Angel…' But she was cut off from what she had to say by Dr. Royce entering the room and Angel demanding to know what he knew. It seemed that the rest of the team were far too concerned with finding Nina to worry about finding Spike. Of course they were - they were all sure he'd come right back. They didn't know what was happening to him, where he was going … or that something was trying to keep him there.

Royce had a whole list of suspects for Angel: sacrificers, wackos who wanted to rid the world of abominations, werewolf packs looking for recruits, paranormal sporting groups - the type that went vampire hunting in Eastern Europe - that sort of thing. They would have to work their way through the list - could take hours.

Fred wasn't listening to him, though - she'd just spotted Spike walking through the lobby. He didn't look right, though - he was … transparent. She glanced at the others. 'I'll be…' she ran out of the office and chased after the incorporeal vampire. 'Spike! Wait! Spike!' He didn't seem to hear her, or pay her any mind, however - as he continued walking away without turning around. She chased him through the lobby.

...

He led her down the hallway - and then through the door of an office. 'Spike, stop! Spike?' But he kept on walking through the office, past the desk and then right through the opposite wall.

'Spike! Wait!' she had scurried through the office, hoping to catch him, but then had to pull up short, as she reached the wall - and could follow him no further. She stumbled to a halt and kicked the trashcan over, as she did. 'Dammit!' debris scattered across the floor and - still glancing in irritation at the wall - she got onto her knees and began to pick up the fallen litter. 'Oh right,' she muttered, 'like he can't hear me. Just whoot! Right through the -' she stopped talking and began to frown, looking at the discarded item in her hand. It was a small glass bottle which had fallen from the trash, she read the label and frowned even deeper.

'Were you looking for me?'

She looked up in alarm as she heard a voice in the doorway, and hastily shoved the bottle in her pocket. It was Dr. Royce. 'Oh is this your office?' she asked, getting back to her feet. 'I'm so sorry. I was following Spike and I kinda made a mess. He went right through the wall.'

Dr. Royce turned to stare at the wall Spike had vanished through, and Fred shifted a little - backing away. 'It's just so annoying when he does that,' she carried on talking. His back was still turned and she picked up a lamp. 'Because there's nothing you can do to...' She swung the lamp at the back of his head, and Royce collapsed unconscious on the floor, '... stop him.'

Doyle still held the photograph of Xandra in his hand, was still staring at her laughing face. He needed to do this - get it over with. He took his feet down from the desk, planted them firmly on the floor and sat up a little straighter in his chair. He swigged down the last of his coffee, put the paper copy of the photo down and then pulled the scrap of paper with the phone number written on towards himself. He rolled his shoulders as if he were warming up his muscles to run a race - he needed to do this. Get it over with. Xandra deserved to have every lead followed in the hunt for her murderer - and she deserved to have her people know what had happened to her. And her folks deserved to know what had become of their daughter. He needed to do this.

He stared at the phone - willing himself to pick it up. He counted to three - and then to five. Once he'd reached ten, he grabbed the receiver, holding it in his left hand, and used his right index finger to hurriedly jab the numbers on the keypad, as if trying to get it done quickly before he could change his mind - chicken out. Then he transferred the phone to his right hand, put it to his ear and took a deep breath. He could hear it ringing down the other end of the line, and he closed his eyes - trying to imagine where the phone he was connecting to was. In a little room, somewhere in Ohio. And he tried to imagine who it was who would hear the ringing - who would enter the room and pick up the phone. He prayed it wouldn't be Xandra's mother.

He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he waited - which was strange as it also felt like it had leapt into his throat, his breath was ragged and shallow. He both wanted someone to pick up soon - and desperately hoped that nobody did. He wanted this over - but he didn't want to have to do it.

The phone continued to ring - maybe there was no one there. Maybe he should give up. Just for now. He would try again later. Of course he would. This needed to be done. Just not right ... But just as he was about to hang up, he heard the ringing suddenly cut away, the hum of air down the line and then a gruff voice say 'hello?'

His eyes flew open. 'Oh - uhm - yeah, hey - hello,' he stuttered. 'My name is Francis Doyle, I'm callin' from L.A, I got this number off Arnie the skalof demon. Am I, by any chance, speakin' to a member of the Goyra clan?'

'What's it to ya?' the gruff voice asked. Doyle swallowed, 'uhm, well - I have ...I'm afraid I've got some bad news and … well, I guess I need to deliver it to the right people.'

'What bad news?' The gruff voice suddenly had a wary tone to it.

'Did you - uh - did you know a girl called Xandra?'

'Xandra? - yeah - she's Alix and Herb's girl, moved to L.A a few months back.' The voice suddenly became suspicious. 'Isn't that where you said you were?'

'Yeah, yes I did, sir. I'm afraid to tell y' that Xandra … well, I'm sorry to say - she's - uh - she's dead. She was killed - couple o' weeks ago now. Murdered.' There was a long silence at the other end of the phone - but Doyle knew the demon was still on the line, he could still hear him breathing. 'Sir?' he said.

'Right - uh - yeah,' the gruff voice answered. It was shaky, now - and Doyle could tell that the demon was unsure what to say, that they might be wiping away tears. 'You know what killed her?'

'Not yet. Me and my girlfriend - she's a vampire slayer - we're workin' on it, lookin' into it. And…' he took a deep breath and hoped that this next sentence didn't come out as insensitive or obnoxious or crass, 'I was hopin' - well I was hopin' you might be able to tell me a little about Xandra. Help eliminate some possibilities. So far we've not been able to find much out about her.'

'Your girlfriend's a slayer?' the voice asked, 'and you don't think she did this? What the hell does a pair of humans care about some dead Goyra? What's another demon body to a slayer?'

'We care,' Doyle said quietly. 'This is what we do. We help the hopeless, stop the bad guys. Cordy doesn't kill demons indiscriminately. We know that demons are people - and that a whole load of 'em are just trying to get on with their lives, quiet like.'

'Oh, you do, do you? - and who exactly the hell are you, son? Some boy toy of a slayer, sticking his nose in where it's not needed. This is demon business. We don't want or need human interference in our lives … or our deaths.'

Doyle closed his eyes again, and leaned back in his chair, 'I'm not human,' he admitted. His voice was heavy. 'I'm a brachen demon - half - on my father's side. I work for The Powers That Be - and Xandra's not the only demon that's turned up killed, recently. Look - I just wanna find out what killed Xandra and put a stop to it, before it hurts anyone else - and I want to be able to tell her parents that the guy who murdered their daughter is toast. But to do that, I need to know everythin' I can about Xandra. And no one in L.A seems to know squat about her. So if there's anythin' you can think of that might help, I'll be grateful to hear it.'

There was another long silence down the phone and the sound of a throat being cleared, 'well, what is it that you need to know?'

'You know - background stuff - when she came here, why she came here. Who her friends were - if she had any. Did she have a boyfriend? Did she ever mention anyone was giving her trouble? Did she owe money? Even if anyone noticed a change in behaviour from her - maybe if she stopped callin' as often, or seemed scared. Anythin' like that.'

'I'll have to speak to her parents,' the demon said, 'is there a number I can call you back on?'

'Yeah, sure - thanks,' Doyle gave the demon his phone number, clarifying some of the digits and listening as the Goyra wrote it down - all the way in Ohio.

'Before you go,' the Goyra said to him, 'how did Xandra die? Alix and Herb will want to know.'

Doyle wrinkled his brow, 'aw, man - it wasn't pretty. Listen, you should try and gloss over that particular question. She was … just tell them she was stabbed - and there was a head wound. My girlfriend's good with medical stuff, she reckons the head wound killed her.'

'And - uhm - what happened to - to her body?'

'We buried it - I mean her,' Doyle assured him, 'we buried her. In a real nice spot, we looked up your rituals and painted the symbols on her shroud and spread the herbs around. Did it as well as we could. I can give you the address if you want - if her parents want to visit…' and he described the location of Xandra's grave, up in the Hollywood Hills.

'Thank you - that is … I've never heard of a human - let alone a slayer - going to so much trouble for one demon.'

'Well - Xandra matters to us. She's important. All of the people we help are - even if we can't save them.'

'Thank you,' the voice said, sounding even more gruff - as if it was trying to swallow down some painful emotion. 'Her burial - it will be a great comfort to her parents that she received a proper burial. I'll get back to you with the information you've asked for as soon as I've spoken to them.'

'Thanks,' Doyle said, softly. 'I'm sorry for your loss.' And he hung up the phone and gave a deep sigh of relief. At least that was over. He picked up the photo of Xandra, once more, and looked at her laughing face. 'We will get 'em, love,' he said to her, 'just you wait, we'll get 'em - and we'll make 'em pay.'

Fred had called the guys - Angel had hauled the unconscious Royce off and she, along with Wes and Gunn, were now rifling through the cryptozoologist's office, looking for clues. The bottle Fred had found had contained Calendula, she'd recognised it at once and Wes had confirmed it. It was like a mystical Valium - Royce must have known he'd be made to sing for Lorne and so had taken the substance in order to block the reading.

'How'd you end up going through Royce's trash anyway?' Gunn asked her, as he looked through the desk drawers. He knocked on the bottom of the drawer and frowned at the sound. It echoed.

'It was Spike. He led me in here.'

But Gunn was now more interested in what he'd just found - 'Yo! Here we go - we got ourselves a secret panel.' He removed the false bottom from the drawer and then began to pull out the things he found underneath. There were some Polaroid photographs, a knife, and some papers - which he passed around to the others - and the three of them began to scrutinise.

Royce was now awake - and wishing he wasn't. 'Where is she?' Angel snarled - as he threw the doctor against the wall. He used his full strength and Royce slammed against it and felt his bones crunch, and all the air leave his body. But even so, he wasn't going to talk. 'I don't know what you're …'

'Wrong answer.' Angel grabbed the doctor, yanking him across the room and then slamming him down on the desk - pinning him there.

Royce stared up at the angry vampire and began to gibber, 'But it's a secret!' he squealed. 'If I tell you - this man - he's not like you. You're a good guy, but he's a … well, no offence - but he's scarier than you!'

Angel vamped out - he leaned in as close to Royce's face as he could - letting him see the sharpness of his fangs and the yellow of his eyes. 'Wanna bet?'

Fred flicked through the Polaroid photographs, her head tilted and her face frowning as she tried to work out what she was looking at. Realisation hit - and her eyes widened in alarm. 'Are they …? Ewww!' she dropped the photos to the floor and looked disgusted. 'We'll just … yeah, burning. Burning would be good for these.'

Wesley was examining the knife - it was sharp, like a steak knife - but had a jewel in its hilt, like it was some fancy ceremonial dagger. 'Not exactly an autopsy knife,' he said, wryly.

Gunn was reading through the papers he had found. There was a deep crease in his forehead, which was only getting deeper the more he read. 'You're not gonna believe this,' he said to the others - holding out what he had found for them to look at.

Cordelia was still pressed against the wall, her stake clutched tight against her chest, waiting for her moment. She was trying to figure out the best way to take them all out at once - it was four against one - and sure, she could do it, but she shouldn't be too hasty. She hadn't been slaying very long, after all. She wanted a decent plan of attack - a strategy. As a slayer, she had to win every fight - whereas a vampire only had to get lucky once for her to become a footnote in history.

As one vampire was wedged in behind the desk, and she couldn't see the final vampire or the guy with horns, she figured the one by the window would be the best place to start. Unfortunately that meant she had to cross the entire office to kill him - without the others attacking her. She could just throw her stake straight at his heart - but then she wouldn't have a weapon. Maybe if she kicked in the door - did a backflip and then a super-jump across the room whilst the demons were all too shocked to respond - staked the vampire by the window and then turned to face the other three. The one behind the desk would have to come out from behind the desk, and if she stood her ground and let them come to her then she could take them out one on one - set them up, knock them down.

She wished, for a moment, that she had taken Doyle up on that offer of help. If he could take out just one of them for her - or at the very least offer a distraction by allowing himself to get pummelled - then the odds would be more in her favour. But she shook her head and refused to follow up this line of thinking. She was a slayer. She didn't need Doyle - well, she needed him, for more reasons than she could count - but not for staking three vamps and the horn job. She could go one on one with a vampire before she had any kind of powers at all. Angel had trained her well - and she had taken on this slayer gig from a position of being much better prepared and with far greater experience and knowledge than most slayers did. Four little eentsy demons were nothing to her now she was a bona fide superhero. Buffy would not take her boyfriend along for four eentsy demons. And Buffy had not spent her pre slayer life being trained by the dark avenger himself.

Cordelia had this - she totally had it. She took a deep breath - ready to kick the door in - and then realised that, whilst she'd been busy strategising, the room had gone quiet. She risked a peek inside. The vampire had risen from behind the desk - and was looking in her direction. With a gasp, she flung herself back and pressed herself harder against the wall, shrinking back. But it was too late. The door creaked open - and the final vampire and the guy with the horns appeared in the corridor and grabbed hold of her. 'You were right, boss,' the vampire said to the one behind the desk, dragging Cordy into the office. 'Lookee lookee what we found, out in the hall.'

Fred had hold of the piece of paper and she was marching through the lobby, Wes and Gunn hot on her heels. They reached Angel's office just as he came out of the door, rolling his sleeves down. 'I know where she is,' he told them.

'Angel, we found -' she thrust the paper into his hand. 'It's what they plan to do to her.'

He stared down at the paper and then up at his friends, disbelieving. '...It's a menu.'

Nina was strapped to a silver trolley, naked, gagged and covered by a sheet. She was surrounded by kale, peppers and carrots. The trolley was pushed through some doors and she blinked in the sudden light, after so long in the dark. Classical music was playing quietly in the background - and the room was crowded with elegant, black tie clad guests.

'Ladies and gentlemen,' the host of the dinner party smiled at the gathered people, 'thank you for coming together on such short notice. We have a very rare and special treat for you tonight. Moonrise is in fifteen minutes. Shortly thereafter … dinner will be served.'