Title:The Crow: Promised One
Author: Tin Heart
Disclaimers: I don't own anything related to the TV series Buffy or Angel. If I did, you could be sure I'd treat them better. I also own nothing of James O'Barr's masterpiece 'The Crow' and cannot imagine doing better with it then he did. I make no money off this and mean no copyright infringement.
Summery: Death comes for the scourge in the form of one of it's victims...
Authors notes: By combining two series', I have no doubt I've made errors in both continuity and character. I hope you all will be patient with me. This story takes place (For Angel fans) in an AU where there was no Darla subplot. I'm sorry, but I just couldn't work her in. It's not necessary to be a crow fan to understand this story, but it is necessary to know at least the basics of first season Angel. Also, and this may sound crazy, but to combat my writers block I made a few pictures. Just a banner and cover piece, but if anyone's interested... What would be considered the cover and what would be considered a banner.
Also, all people hoping for a repeat of 'Couting Down' are not going to find it here. Sorry people, but I'm trying my hand at a serious story.
Also lets have a round of applause for my beta Linny! Love ya, girl.
The Crow: Promised one
Prologue: Light a Candle, Curse the Darkness...
October 26, 2000
11:59 p.m.
Father Stevenson never felt comfortable with the idea of locking a church. Of course, he agreed with the logic of it. There were places in hell far safer then L.A. at night. At his more cynical moments he wondered if there was any point in having a church in L.A. Even more so with devils night approaching...
As per his nightly ritual, Father Stevenson made his rounds checking for 'lost souls' who wandered in seeking shelter from the streets. He'd just clicked the lights off and was about to lock the doors when he thought to double check the poor box. The light from the street lamps streaming through the stain glass cast enough of a glow to navigate the pews.
He'd just reached the pulpit when he heard a faint scratching sound behind him. He froze, had he just imagined it? Suddenly his own shadow filled the wall in front of him. He spun around, but eyes unaccustomed to the sudden light could only make out a silhouette disappearing through one of the french doors.
It took only a moment for his eyes to adjust. When they did he ran through the doors and out into the street. There was no one there.
Back inside he locked the door behind him. It wasn't until then that the priest noticed a candle, one of many that lined the walls, was lit. He reached over an picked up a piece of paper that lay in front of it. It looked like some sort of card or...he unfolded it.
It was a picture. A man, no more then 21, 22 perhaps. With dark hair and blue/green eyes that seemed to hold a sort of wisdom beyond his years...
Father Stevenson leaned closer to the candle, intent on blowing it out. He found though, that he didn't have the heart. He rested the picture gently against it's base and sent a silent prayer up for the man too young to be mourned.
Chapter One: Counting Crows
October 27, 1999
Detective Kate 'Grace' Lockley sat at her desk doing her best not to nod off. Besides being a slow day, Kate had been suffering from nightmares. Most of the scenes had been vague but familiar, and it was clear enough who the dreams had been about.
A flash of light. Angel and that Irish guy. Doyle, she remembered, was his name. They were on a boat. No, no they were in a boat. Faces, all around. None of them Human. Angel puts his hand on Doyle's shoulder. "The good fight, yeah?" Doyles brough sounded almost mournful. "You never know till you've been tested, I get that now."
Another flash. Doyle, light surrounding him. Burning him. He's pulling apart some sort of wire. Just as it comes apart he screams in pure agony.
Flash. Those faces. Inhuman, lifeless eyes. They're dead. All dead. Slaughtered. Lying in pools of there own rapidly cooling blood...
"Hey Kate," a familiar voice welcomely intruded her thoughts. "You still with us?"
She looked up to see her partner, Harlen, staring at her with poorly concealed worry.
"Yeah, yeah," she forced a smile. "I just, uh, didn't get allot of sleep last night."
"Well," He smiled and sat down, apparently buying it. "You could always cut out early. I'll tell the captain you were sick or something."
Kate's smiled became genuine. She stood up and pulled on her jacket, making sure she had her keys. She stopped in front of Harlen and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Thanks, I owe you one.' she said before walking out the door.
Fishing her keys from her pocket she stopped just short of her car. an entire flock of crows were sitting on her car. She smiled to herself indulgently and began to count them.
One for Sorrow
Two for Joy
Three for a Girl
Four for a Boy
Five for Silver
Six for Gold
Seven for a Secret
Never to be told...
Seven, it was a secret. Since it was her car it must be her secret. Now what in Gods name...
Her eyes widened in realization and fear. She ran to her car and shooed the crows away. The she jumped inside and sped off.
Tap-tap-tap, tap, tap...
Tap-tap-tap, tap, tap...
Tap-tap-tap, tap, tap...
By now Cordelia's pencil tapping rhythm was getting on Angels nerves. He wanted to send her somewhere, anywhere. Just far, far away. Angels eyes floated across the room to where Wesely sat. The demon hunter had chosen to amuse himself by sorting through old newspapers. Suddenly angel wondered if he could get away with sneaking into his office to brood in the dark. He glanced at Cordelia, knowing if he made a move she'd come after him. He sighed imperceptibly and decided to brood where he stood.
Wesely himself was attempting to drowned out Cordelia's bored tapping by losing himself in thought. So far he was having no success. Shuffling through old newspaper Cordelia had sworn she'd thrown out he was looking for articles of an 'unusual' nature. Every now and then he'd run across something that'd caught his eye, but nothing that held his attention. 'Doctor Murders Police Officer, Disappears.' 'Flaming Man Seen on Beach Dock.' 'Boat Full of Deformed Corpses Found off the Coast of L.A.' Nothing particularly noteworthy.
Codelia wasn't tapping out of bordom. She was tapping out of nervousness. Lost in thought she contemplated her first ever callback. It was a guest spot on a fairly popular soap opera. Two lines, but it would still be the biggest break she'd ever gotten. The only thing standing in her way was the casting director. Not that he didn't like her. That was the problem, he liked her alot. He was pretty cute. In that fake, Hollywood sort of way. But the timing was wrong. In fact, it couldn't be worse. In one week it will have been a year since... No, she wasn't going to think about that now. Later, tomorrow maybe. Yes, she'd think about it then.