A Union of Souls, Chapter Seventeen
Ami watched the commotion around her, utterly amazed by the fact that strangers were going through so much trouble to protect her from an unseen, albeit deadly enemy. She was to stay at Angel's tonight, where the vampire and his friends could keep an eye on things and protect her if Giselle and Cordovan's forces came looking for her.
The decision to remain here, and the battle to make it so, had been hard fought. Adam confided to her, telepathically, that he would feel better if she was at the Ship. Ami admitted that she too would feel better with the protection of the Spaceship. But there was no way to explain the Ship to their new allies, and even in light of everything that was going on and everything they had learned, they weren't ready to reveal the Ship or the island, or even the existence of additional Tomorrow People. That was yet another reason that Ami had opted to remain in Angel's basement apartment: the thought of drawing the others into this was one that she didn't want to contemplate for long. It was disturbing enough knowing that Giselle had been inside her head and quite possibly knew what Ami was. She didn't want to consider what would happen if the woman found out about the other Tomorrow People.
Looking around her, Ami tried her hardest to stay out of the way while Angel and Rupert worked to make the place secure. After learning that the name the man had been introduced under was a surname and not a first name, it became difficult for Ami to address him without tacking the "Mister" in front of his name. He had been the one to insist she call him "Rupert" and not "Mr. Giles," because under the current circumstances, "I really don't think there's any reason for such formality."
Watching them, it became quickly clear to her that the men – if a vampire could be called a man – worked together often and well. Even the Irishman pitched in after returning from making certain that Cordelia reached home safely. From the looks Angel had given the man upon his departure and return, Ami got the feeling that his interest in the secretary went a bit beyond simply seeing to her safety.
The only person – or creature – missing was Whistler. The demon said he was going fishing for more information and would be back in the morning. He had actually tried to slip out unnoticed, but Angel had cornered him. The two had spoken in low, agitated voices before the vampire allowed the demon to leave; Angel hadn't looked very happy to see him gone.
"You know, Angel, this would be so much simpler if you weren't a vampire," Doyle called out as he pulled a chain tightly through a grate that led to the sewers.
"How's that?" Angel did not look away from the elaborate trip wire trap that he and Rupert were rigging across the freight elevator.
"The whole invitation thing. You wouldn't have to worry about Cordovan's vamps because they couldn't get in without an invitation. So, we wouldn't have to be locking this place down like it's Alcatraz."
"It's not Cordovan's vampires that I'm worried about," Angel returned, the edge to his voice giving Ami chills. Chills enough that she decided not to ask what forces he *was* worried about.
"Invitation?" Adam looked up from helping Doyle wind the chain. "You mean, it's true?"
"What's true?" Doyle prompted.
"Well in Dracula, Lucy had to accept Dracula and invite him in," Ami supplied the answer, her eyes briefly flickering towards Angel and then back to the Irishman. "Vampires need an invitation?"
Looking from Ami to Adam, Doyle gave them a half-smile. "You two don't know a lot about vampires, do you?"
Ami sat on the sofa with a shrug. "Only what I've read in books."
"Fiction, fantasy," Angel quipped from where he stood listening. "What you read in books is about as real as the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy."
"Oh, go ahead then," Doyle remarked, "Burst her happy, safe bubble. Don't you know that people like to feel safe by building their own realities? Haven't you learned anything in two hundred years?"
"Yeah. Work alone."
"Ha ha, aren't you funny?" Doyle checked the chain by giving it a hard yank and stood. When he looked at Ami again, however, he was a study in seriousness. "As much as I would have found a better way of breaking it to you, Angel is right. The books don't really have all the facts."
"The books don't have most of the facts. They're the products of the imaginations of hack writers and Hollywood merchandising, full of half-truths and romanticism. There's nothing romantic about vampires," Angel entered the living area where they stood, his dark eyes darting to the grate, "Is that secure?"
"As secure as it's going to get," was Doyle's response. Angel gave him a worried look and Doyle hurried on, "Trust me, Angel, nothing is gettin' in that way."
"You're a vampire," Adam pointed out, following on the thread of Angel's comment.
Angel met Adam's eyes and for a moment, Ami thought that he wasn't going to respond. When he did, his words were quiet, but somehow deadly. "Exactly my point."
"Oh come on," Doyle shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels. "I'll bet that you crossed paths with Anne Rice sometime. She had to model Louis after you -- all that angstin' and broodin' --" Ami couldn't see Angel's face as his head swung to look at the Irishman, but she imagined the look that he gave Doyle was not very friendly. The Irishman immediately held up his hands in defense, "I'll say no more. Bad topic."
"Um, gentlemen?" Rupert's voice came from the next room, "I could use a hand in here, please?"
The three men exchanged a glance and headed in that direction. Only Angel was detained, as Ami's hand tentatively reached out and tugged his shirt sleeve. He stopped, an unasked question in his eyes as he looked down at her.
"Tell me about vampires, then," Ami spoke softly, not sure if she was treading on personal territory and asking a question that shouldn't be asked.
Angel visibly flinched, a flash of sorrow and pain darting across his face and coloring his handsome features. Whatever the stories had gotten wrong about vampires, they certainly hadn't lied about them being beautiful. Somehow, the deep sorrow she saw in the depths of his eyes made him all the more beautiful.
And perhaps, all the more dangerous, a little voice cautioned her.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't--"
"No, that's fine," Angel nodded. He gave a glance around the corner, and evidently seeing that everything was under control, motioned towards the kitchen area. "I'm going to put on some tea. Do you drink tea?"
Ami nodded, trailing towards the kitchen table where she had been seated earlier when the entire night began to unravel. She watched Angel as he filled the tea kettle and set it to a low flame on the stove.
"I'd offer you something else, but --" Angel leaned against the counter, folding his arms across his chest, "I don't have anything. I don't eat." He seemed to offer the last as both an apology and an explanation.
"Right," Ami rubbed her hands nervously on her pants legs. She felt briefly out of sorts with this man -- this vampire who appeared as normal and human as the next person. He wasn't what she expected for a vampire, but then again what did one expect in a vampire? If the books were wrong, what were vampires really like? "You--" she stopped abruptly, not willing to finish the thought she was having. At least not aloud. You bite, were the words that lurked in the back of her brain.
"Not humans," Angel said almost at once.
"What?"
"You were going to say that I bite, or feed," Angel's eyes slid away from hers and again she saw the unmeasurable pain etched in his features. However, it faded and dulled a bit when he returned his gaze to hers. "I don't feed from humans. I haven't in --" This time, she actually felt the sharp bite of sorrow that radiated from him as he stumbled and swallowed, "I don't feed from humans."
"But you drink blood?" Ami felt her stomach clench as she said the words. It brought to mind images she would rather not have reflected on. For one moment, her mind taunted her with the picture of Angel, canines nearly the length of his chin, blood dripping from his face. She forcefully pushed the picture aside with a barely repressed shudder.
"Animal. Butcher shops. It's not that hard to find other sources," Angel said.
"Do all vampires --"
"No," Angel cut off her question before she could fully phrase it. His tone became sharper, his eyes hard and cold. "Vampires are ruthless, predatory killers. Mortals are here for their pleasure and this world is their playground. Forget everything that you ever read in any book. It's wrong. There is no sweet seduction, no magic, no allure. A vampire would snap your neck in a minute and enjoy the sound of the bone cracking."
Ami stood so quickly, the chair scrapped loudly against the floor. The look in his eyes, the sound of his voice, cut her to the bone and she suddenly felt very, very afraid. "And I'm supposed to trust you?"
"I'm different."
"Because you feed from animals instead of humans, is that all?"
"No," Angel's voice softened, and he looked like the caged animal that she felt like. He took a breath and released it, "Because I have a soul."
"What?"
"Vampires don't have souls."
Ami waited. Certainly he didn't expect to leave it at just that.
Looking away from her, Angel fixed his eyes on some point on the countertop. "When a person becomes a vampire, they die. Not just physically, but spiritually. The soul leaves the body. It's gone. In its place is a demon. A demon that has possession of all that person's memories and knowledge. A demon animating a body. No trace of humanity or anything resembling humanity is left."
"Why are you different?"
"I'm cursed." He lifted his head, a somewhat bitter half-grin on his face. "I was one of the most feared vampires in Europe, but then I crossed a tribe of Romany gypsies. I killed one of theirs and my punishment -- my punishment is a gypsy curse -- my soul. So that everyday, I have to live with the knowledge and guilt of every evil act I ever committed. And I do."
"So . . . " Ami paused trying to make sense of his words, "So, you're not a demon?"
"I'm both. There's a demon inside of me, but I have a soul too. It's a constant battle, a constant reminder of what I was -- and what I can be."
"You really are seeking redemption," Ami murmured under her breath, recalling their earlier conversation when she had demanded that he tell her what he was. She studied him for a heartbeat, sinking back into her chair before pressing on. "How will you know when you've found it?"
The question hung between them, vampire and telepath, while he appeared to consider it. The silence was broken by the whistling of the tea-kettle and it was only then that Angel nodded in her direction before turning his attention to the whistling kettle. His words drifted to ears, so softly she would spend the rest of the night wondering if he truly spoke them or if she was picking up his thoughts.
"I don't know if I ever will."