A Union of Souls, Chapter Twenty
Every now and then, Rupert Giles would glance up from his preparations and stare in amazement at Cordelia Chase. He would then blink his eyes to see if the illusion vanished, only to have it remain firmly and solidly where it was. It was remarkable. The girl that he had come to know as a whining, self-absorbed fashion plate and debutante was actually useful. Not simply helping with the research type of useful; but truly useful enough to be an asset to Angel and Doyle. The chips were down, to quote an American colloquialism, and Cordelia jumped in to do her part more readily than she ever had in Sunnydale.
"I'm not saying it isn't convenient," Cordelia protested as she and Adam spread a set of 'borrowed' city blue prints across Angel's kitchen table. "It was just -- weird." She looked up, her eyes focused on the Australian. "Of course, it could come in handy for all those big one-day Christmas sales."
With a faint smile, Rupert shook his head. Helpful or no, it was comforting to see that on some level she was still Cordelia Chase, cheerleader and May Queen.
For the first time since their preparations had begun, a half-smile touched Adam's lips. "That's not the first time I've heard that sentiment."
"Well, do you realize how much shopping can be done if you can do that little teleporty trick? My God, the number of shoes alone --"
"Cordelia," Rupert interjected as he approached to look at the blueprints. "Why don't you focus a bit more attention on those blueprints than on the prospects of supporting the capitalist society single-handedly by teleporting to every Neiman-Marcus from here to New York."
She stared at him as though he had just spoken a foreign language, and he realized too late that perhaps he had. "Read one of these? You've got to be kidding. I think that Angel must navigate by sense of smell, because these things are unreadable." She paused, placing a paperweight on a corner that continued to curl up. "Besides, I did my part. I played dumb-girlfriend while Adam beamed himself to wherever to get them. I even got groped by the ugliest security guard I've ever seen. And then he had the nerve to ask for my phone number." Cordelia shuddered, her revulsion with the prospect completely apparent.
"I can read 'em," Doyle informed them, crossing to the table. He checked and re-checked the crossbow he was carrying, before setting it gently on the countertop. His blue eyes moved across the blueprints, and after a moment he looked up, his eyes going directly to Angel. "I can get us there. Luckily it's going to be after sunset, or you might find yourself gettin' a bit of a tan. Looks like our boy has sealed off most of the utility and sewer tunnels near his estate. We'll get inside the gates, but that's about all."
The vampire nodded, stretching his arms to his sides. Rupert blinked in surprise as a stake shot from the sleeve of each arm and then retracted. "I'd expected as much."
"That's quite an impressive -- contraption -- you have there, Angel."
"Thank you." Angel looked up, his face clearly uncomfortable, and averted his eyes quickly. "I made it. It comes in handy."
"Handy! I'll say!" Cordelia piped up, "You should see him use that thing. Two vamps for the price of one."
"You're taking a lot of weapons," Adam noted quietly. Turning, Rupert noticed the young man's eyes moving guardedly from Angel to Doyle and finally to rest on the crossbow that Rupert himself was fiddling with.
Doyle looked away from the blueprints, "Well, this isn't exactly a trip to Disneyland, Adam. We want to get your girlfriend back, we have to go in there with both guns blazing."
"If I understand what Angel, Doyle and Cordelia have explained to us," Rupert lowered the crossbow, focusing his full attention on Adam, "This won't be easy at all. We shall be going up against a security force of vampires and demons, all of whom will be doing everything in their power to see to it that we not become a threat. They won't be open for negotiations, Adam."
"It just seems -- strong. Like overkill."
Doyle chuckled. "Well, let's hope it's overkill. It means we'll get our arses out in one piece."
To say that the look Adam threw the Irishman was one of disgust and abject horror would have been a mild understatement. "Doesn't it bother you? Killing?"
"It's not like they're killing real people or anything. I mean they're just demons and vampires." Cordelia paused, paled slightly and gave a quick glance at Angel and Doyle. "Well, they're just evil demons and vampires. Not like Angel and Doyle. They're on our side."
Adam's jaw almost dropped. He blinked at Doyle. "You're a -- a demon?"
The half-demon glared at the back of Cordelia's head. "Half. My mother was human."
"Anyway," Cordelia gave a dismissive flick of her wrist, "It doesn't matter. They're going in there to rescue Ami and kill all the evil things that interfere with them. And it's not that bad really. Vampires just kind of turn into nice little piles of dust."
Adam stared at her for a moment, then his eyes wandered the room again, revulsion and disgust apparent each time he saw a weapon of some sort. "There should be a better way. I should just be able to teleport in there and get her out."
"But you can't." Angel dropped a duffel bag on the floor in front of Rupert. "You said you can't sense her." To the former Watcher he added, "I've put the Kelsior in there."
"A little magick in our arsenal certainly can't hurt," Rupert nodded, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. He folded his arms and leaned against the back of the arm chair, his mind replaying what he knew about Adam and Ami, either implied or inferred. "You can't kill."
"Well," Doyle said, "I don't like killin' but--"
"No, Doyle, you misunderstand my words. No death-blood may taint," Rupert quoted the rough translation from the Enslavement spell, "Adam -- and Ami -- can not kill. Something inherent in their make-up, the same something that gives them their unbelievable powers, takes away the ability to destroy life. Am I correct?"
Adam did or said nothing for a moment. Then, slowly he nodded. "How did you--"
"The description from the Enslavement spell. Also, the fact that if you are truly as telepathic and empathic as you and Ami have intimated, then I imagine the simple act of killing alone, the emotional and psychic energies that would be released, would be overwhelming."
"So, you can't kill." Angel clipped out the words. "Then you definitely are not coming with us."
Rupert watched a flash of anger flicker in Adam's eyes. "Ami's my friend. I'm going to be there when we find her."
"Be there and what?" Angel challenged. "Get yourself killed? I can't save your friend and watch *your* back. At least I know that Giles and Doyle can take care of themselves. I won't have your blood on my hands."
"I can take care of myself. Just because I don't need to hold a weapon in my hand to do it, doesn't mean I can't."
"You've never seen a vampire. You've never seen a demon. You have no idea what we're going up against."
"I'm staring at a vampire right now."
"Adam," Rupert touched the young man's arm, drawing his attention. "Yes, Angel is a vampire, true. But he is the exception and not the rule."
"And I've seen Angel pissed off," Cordelia added, "You so do not want to go there. When he vamps out, it is not pretty." She ignored the dark look that Angel tossed in her direction, her face softening as she watched Adam. "I know you're worried. You have to be. Trust me, I grew up in Sunnydale and the minute I started hanging around with that lot of losers, worry became a fact of life. Like, every day was 'Gee, is this the day that some evil demon finally kills me?' Which is really bad, because worry causes wrinkles. And the one thing an actress does not need is crow's feet. I mean, have you ever seen those things?"
"Cordelia," three voices chimed in at once.
"What?" The brunette looked at them and then turned back to Adam with a shake of her head. "All I'm trying to say -- before I'm rudely interrupted again -- is that Angel knows what he's doing. He's been doing this a long time and if anyone can rescue Ami, and stop that witchy person from swallowing her soul or whatever, it's going to be him. You just have to trust him.
"He's always come through for me."
Rupert stared in amazement. Cordelia enthusiastically helping was unexpected; Cordelia heaping sincere praise and trust upon the vampire who had once lost his soul and tried to kill them all, was something that he thought would only be heralded along with the second coming of Christ. Miracles truly never ceased.
"I can't just stand by and do nothing," Adam protested.
Rupert Giles sighed. He could only see one way out of this dilemma. They were running out of time and they couldn't waste minutes arguing with Adam. "Adam, I'm sorry."
The Australian turned to him, curiosity shining in his eyes. "About what?"
Former Watcher and mild-mannered librarian never answered him. At least not in the vocal sense of the word. Instead, Adam's answer came in the form of a right-hook connecting squarely with his jaw, snapping his head back and rendering him immediately unconscious. Rupert was simply grateful for the quick reflexes of Angel and Doyle, as they caught the boy before he hit the floor.
Rupert rubbed his knuckles. He hadn't punched anyone in a while. "About that."
"Giles. You punched him!" Cordelia squeaked.
"Yes, Cordelia, I did." He nodded to Angel and Doyle who were arranging Adam's body on the couch. "And I think we need to be gone before he --"
His words froze in his throat as a pocket of empty air began to coalesce into a human form. With a flash of light, and a loud crackle that sounded like a bulb blowing magnified, where there had once been empty air, a red haired young man suddenly stood, staring around in worry and confusion.
"Wakes up," Rupert finished wondering why he was quite unsurprised to see another teleporter appear. He idly wondered how many of them there were.
"How many of you are there?" Doyle asked the question aloud.
The redhead ignored them all, his attention falling on Adam. "What happened to him?"
"Time." Rupert met Angel's eyes, and held up his watch.
The vampire nodded, turning towards the sewer grate in the floor. "Cordelia, explain. We have to leave. Now."
"Who are you people? And what happened to Adam?" The unidentified redhead was demanding as they filed into the sewers.
"Right hook," was the last thing Rupert Giles heard.