Rise

:: Rise ::

By Rachel

:: Rated R ::

Strong violence, blood, and a little bit of swearing.

Takes place anytime after Epiphany. Reflects scenarios back to BtVs.

Distribute wherever! And I appreciate feedback.

A little after 3 am, there was a loud knock on the front door of the hotel. Angel, Wesley and Gunn looked up, and Wesley quickly rose from his seat to answer it. Angel rose slower and followed a few steps behind. He hung back, not quite sure what to say when he finally saw Buffy's longtime watcher; and under these circumstances none the less. He admitted to himself, he was nervous.

"Thank you for coming," Wesley said, shaking his elder's hand.

"Yes, yes of course," Giles said. He stepped inside and Wesley locked the door behind him.

"I'd like you to meet Charles Gunn," Wesley gestured towards Gunn who had moved to stand beside him.

"Friends call me Gunn," Gunn said reaching out a hand. "And thanks for coming."

"I wish we could be meeting under different circumstances," Giles said as they shook. He glanced around, slightly awed at the sheer size of the place. But he had more important things on his mind then idle chitchat. "Where is she?" He asked.

"She's upstairs." Angel answered quietly, crossing his arms and standing at a distance. Giles turned and stared at him.

"Can I see her?"

Angel unlocked his bedroom door, slipping the key back into his pocket. He hesitated slightly, closing his eyes against the grain of the wood. It was only a split second and so they didn't notice. He opened his eyes again and then opened the door. He stepped inside, and turned on a light. Giles came forth slowly, Wesley and Gunn at his back. Angel stepped to the side, folding his arms and watching the Watcher. Giles walked slowly towards the bed.

"She's truly changing?"

He asked it as if he didn't expect an answer. Giles walked around to the side of the bed, and carefully sat down beside Cordelia's body, shaking his head sadly and rubbing his tired face.

"She'll rise." Angel confirmed quietly from the shadows. Giles sighed and looked down over her body. He reached out, touching the coolness of her skin, then gently tilted her head to the side to stare at the wounds on her neck. He frowned. The attack against her, it'd been brutal.

"What happened…exactly?"

"Lindsey McDonald." Angel came closer into the light, arms still tightly wrapped about himself. He fidgeted. Giles looked up at him expectantly, waiting for the rest.

"Well?" He prompted when Angel didn't answer.

"He attacked her in our office," Wesley said softly.

"So…this Lindsey, he sired her?"

Wesley looked hesitantly towards Angel. Angel's downcast eyes burned into the floor. Wesley wasn't sure if he should go on. He started to open his mouth but then quickly closed it again. Angel would have to admit it on his own…

"No," Angel finally answered raising his gaze. "I did."

Giles gasped

"What did you say?" He asked breathlessly getting up from the bed.

"I sired her." Angel responded in almost a whisper. Giles quickly crossed the floor.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU MEAN, YOU SIRED HER!"

He shoved Angel back. Angel steadied himself but wouldn't look the watcher in the eye. Giles approached him again. Wesley and Gunn tried to intervene.

"What on earth were you thinking!" Giles demanded of him, glancing back to the dead girl on the bed. Wesley stood between the two men, talking quickly, explaining the events of the evening to Giles as thoroughly as he could muster, all the while trying to calm his outrage, and even, against his own logic, explain Angel's intentions. "This is madness!" Giles shouted, now stalking the floor in angry circles. Angel stood quietly. "I mean, REALLY! How…how…WHAT were you thinking!" He shook his head. "You…! YOU…! I can't even begin to imagine…!"

"I have to tell you something," Angel said. His words came out so softly and so low that Giles hadn't really heard him. It was only when Wesley and Gunn had to stop and stare that he stilled his pacing and took notice of the Vampire again. Angel cleared his throat. He raised his eyes and looked directly at Giles. "Giles…I have to tell you something. But you have to promise that it will never leave this room." He glanced at the other two men. "Wes, Gunn…after this is over, we never talk about this again,"

"Angel…What is it?" Wesley asked, mouth agape as he stepped towards his friend.

Angel looked hesitantly between the three of them. Wesley reluctantly nodded, as did Giles, and Gunn folded his arms.

"Understood. So go."

Angel nodded slightly in appreciation. He started to pace nervously. "I…I was human once." He said. He paused, waiting for a reaction.

Wesley, Gunn and Giles looked to one another and shrugged.

"We know that," Wesley said uneasily. "You were born human—"

"No." Angel stopped him.

Wesley didn't understand what he meant. Angel sighed, closing his eyes, gathering the courage for what he was about to divulge. He opened his eyes with a new air of determination, and facing down his fear, decided to just say it. "Wesley…after I'd been sired…I became human, once."

Silence.

"I'm afraid I don't understand!" Wesley finally exclaimed, gawking and staring at him sideways, his mouth hanging open with his frustration.

"Maybe you should explain," Giles gaped.

"What are you talking about?" Gunn said very slowly.

Angel cringed, grabbing his temples and groaned. He started to pace faster, his movement almost feverish. "I was human for a day!" He nearly shouted. It was hard to let go of such a painful secret; one that he'd been holding in for so long. He'd almost made himself forget about it, but now, having to bring it all up and rehash it, though for the best of causes…finally able to release it, it was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to face. Angel felt himself grow sick, if that was even possible, and he clutched his stomach, feeling almost faint. He choked down imaginary bile and went on. "It was…it was last year. I'd been in a battle against a Morha demon. During the fight, his blood somehow mixed with my own, and it…it somehow…it gave me my humanity back. It was so strange… Buffy came, down from Sunnydale. We spent the day together…like two normal people…"

He continued, divulging the rest of his story to the astonished ears of his friends.

He explained everything; from what he'd gone through, to what he'd gotten to share with Buffy, that one day that seemed so long ago like a dream; how he'd lived that day, and how it had ended…

And when Wesley gave him his most absolute look of confusion, Angel explained why he'd given it all up: To save her.

Wesley was shocked. Speechless. He slumped down on the bed, steadying himself against the footboard. Gunn had been listening intently; his eyes wide and his face changing with his emotions as he listened to this incredible tale. Giles was silent, not making a sound until long after Angel's tale; that of the Erased Day; had come to an end.

But once it all sank it, the wheels in their heads started to spin with the news, and they suddenly comprehended the revelation of what it could mean.

"Angel…" Wesley said most gravely, but then didn't finish.

Angel looked down at Cordelia; dead now, yet far more alive than she'd ever been in life, as she lay there, in silent surrender to her transformation. Angel felt himself growing eager in anticipation of her waking.

He closed his eyes.

If there were anyway to save her, he would do it. He wouldn't give up, no matter how slim the chances…

'No.' He vowed to himself. 'No…'

He'd get her humanity back if it killed him.

"So we just have to get some of that Mohra's blood and she'll be human again?" Gunn asked.

"It may be more complicated than that," Giles said wearily, taking off his glasses and cleaning them with his handkerchief.

"Angel had a soul when it happened," Wesley finished for him. "Cordelia wont have hers…"

"Unless we give it to her."

"…so we can't mix her blood and expect the same results, necessarily,"

"It may be a huge mistake,"

"A disaster, really,"

"To give her back humanity—"

"Without her soul?" Gunn finished.

The two of them nodded.

"So we just need to get her soul back first then," Gunn said, feeling a slight relief wash through him. "That should be easy. Angel got his back after all, right?"

Wesley and Giles gave him an uneasy look.

"Well, I wouldn't call it easy," Wesley said.

"But it can be done, right?"

"We don't know…only one Vampire has been prophesized—"

"Screw prophecy!" Gunn snapped. "This is for Cordelia!"

"Well, yes! I agree, but, we have to find a ritual, something powerful enough… You know, it was a gypsy who laid that curse on Angel,"

Giles cleared his throat.

"What?" Wes and Gunn asked in unison.

Giles took a few steps around Wesley's desk and slumped down in the seat. He smiled to himself and then, toying with the page of a book on the desk, said,

"I happen to know someone who performed just such a spell…"

Wesley's eyes went wide for the twentieth time that night. He stepped forward.

"WHO!"

"Willow."

"Willow?"
"Yes."

"When!"

"When Buffy sent Angel to hell…during the ritual of Acathla."

"Whoa! Whoa! Wait!" Gunn said. "This girl, Willow…she got Angel his soul back and then they sent him to hell? That's cold."

"Well, they didn't mean to," Giles said, slighted by his lack of knowledge.

"Willow was trying to save him?" Wesley asked.

"Yes," Giles sighed. "But we had no way to know if the spell would work…and by the time the transference changed…"

"It was too late."

"Yes, sadly."

Wesley shook his head sadly. "There's far too many tragedies involved in this line of work."

"Agreed."

"So let's just call this girl, Willow." Gunn suggested.

"NO." Wesley shook his head.

"Why not?"

"No…Angel doesn't want to get them involved. And I have to agree with him. We know it can be done, we just need a way to do it ourselves."

"That may be near impossible." Giles said.

"But, we must at least try on our own…" Wesley walked a few steps away, thinking quickly. "We must at least attempt…Angel as prepared to deal with Cordelia when she wakes, as a demon, and he is prepared to hold her until we are prepared to help her. We can spend the day trying…if we find nothing—"

"Then we can call Willow."

"Yes, but not Buffy. Under no circumstances do I want her here. Or any of the others. Just Willow."

"Understood."

"But do you think she'd agree?"

Giles thought back to the relationship Willow and Cordelia had had in Sunnydale… If that was all there was he might say no. But Willow was a caring, giving person, and then the relationship that the girls had, and most unexpectedly, developed online of all ways in the last two years… He smiled slightly, as much as he could smile in such dire circumstances, and nodded. "Most certainly."

"Well lets get crackin'," Gunn said eagerly.

Just then Angel came bounding down the stairs of the hotel. After spending a few needed solitary moments on the roof, he was ready to deal with this thing…and prepared to see it through.

Wesley quickly whispered, "Don't tell him about Willow just yet." Both nodded in agreement.

Angel walked up.

"We're ready." Wesley said, speaking in turn for the whole group. Angel nodded, and the four of them sat down, and page after page after page, attempted to read every piece of text they had between them. It would prove to be a long, grueling process.

Sometime around nine am, Giles called and left a message for Buffy and the gang. Luckily, the machine had answered, so he was able to quickly ramble off a mostly incoherent message about him having to leave for a few days to pick up some things from a supplier for The Magic Box. It was lame, he knew, but he sighed in relief as he hung up the phone, unscathed and unquestioned, and got back to researching.

"We need a break," Giles said finally when he glanced up at the clock and realized that it was after two o'clock in the afternoon.

"THANK GOD," Gunn sighed, stretching his legs and leaning back in his chair. "I'm so tired…all the words are running together."

"We should probably eat something," Wesley mumbled, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. He looked over the mounds of books in the center of the table and stared at Angel.

He still determinedly flipped through page after page in a pagan codex.

"Angel?" Wesley tried. "Angel?"

Angel looked up unexpectedly. "What?"

"We're taking a break now,"

"Oh."

"We're going to get something to eat."

"Okay, sure," He looked back down at the book, quickly skimming through a page and then turning to the next once again.

"Angel," Wesley repeated, slowly, as if he were speaking to a child. Angel looked up unpretentiously. Wesley smiled. "Perhaps you should get something to eat too."

"No," Angel shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Angel…you'll need your strength if we can't stop this by nightfall."

"Yes, we'll all need our strength," Giles agreed. "You should take a break and feed."

Angel hesitated before setting the book down.

"Okay. You're right."

"We should order a pizza," Gunn yawned. "A big, fat one with everything on it." He glanced at Wes.

"That does sound appealing."

The yawn was contagious. It circled around them, all but Angel; who got up and headed groggily towards the kitchen; and then Gunn stood and stretched.

"I'll order." He looked at Giles. "Hey, G-man, is everything on it okay with you?" Giles stared blankly lost in thought. Gunn cocked his head to the side. "Yo…G-man…" He tried again. "Hey, GILES!"

"HUH?" Giles jumped. "Oh, were you talking to me? I'm sorry…what was that again?"

Gunn grinned. "Do you like everything on your pizza?"

"Oh," Giles smiled tiredly. "Yes, that's quite all right with me..."

"Cool." Gunn went over to the lobby counter, and picking up the phone, started to dial. Giles pushed himself away from the pile of books and got up to stretch his legs. Wesley sighed again, for the umpteenth time, and then slowly rose to check on Angel.

Wesley walked through the kitchen entrance only to find Angel standing before the open refrigerator, leaning against the door, and staring into it lost in deep concentration.

"Angel? Are you okay?"

Angel looked up. "Huh? Yeah..."

Wesley didn't believe him. Angel quickly closed the refrigerator door, and came over to where he stood.

"We're short on supplies." He stated. "I'm going to run out. Pick up a few things. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Please, keep looking for something…anything. Anything useful at all." He started to move past him.

"Where are you going?"

Angel didn't answer, but Wesley caught his arm.

"Angel?"

He turned to look at his friend. "We need blood. She's going to want blood. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

Wesley let his hand drop, and Angel left, crossing to the back of the lobby and exiting through the basement; deciding on using sewer access to get where he needed to go in the still waning light of day. Wesley came back out of the kitchen and went back to the books.

Angel finally arrived back, walking in through the basement door, carrying three large brown paper grocery bags. Giles and Wesley looked up from their chairs at the table. They looked absolutely haggard, and Angel felt bad. He crossed the room, setting the bags down on the table, then noticed the absence of their third.

"Where's Gunn?" He asked quietly.

Wesley pointed over to a collection of plush sofas in the opposite corner of the lobby. Gunn was passed out cold, occasionally snoring ever so slightly with the empty pizza box beside him.

"He fell asleep." Wes explained.

"Oh. Well…get him up. There's no use in reading anymore, the suns going down in about two hours, and we're almost out of time. But we do have other things to do."

Wesley did as he was told. He walked over and shook awake his friend. Gunn rose sleepily, the pizza box sliding to the floor as he swung his legs over the side of the sofa. Rubbing his eyes, he followed Wesley back over to the table.

"Sorry, Gunn," Angel said quietly. "I know you're exhausted,"

"No sweat, man, we've got work to do." Gunn replied lightly, but his fatigue was obvious. He shook it off and smiled despite it.

Giles looked quizzically down at the bags. Angel reached into one and started removing, of all things, hardware; chains, padlocks, screws, a drill...

"We need to fortify this place," Angel explained while Wesley dipped into the other bags to find a large supply of blood, sealed in glass jars and straight from the butcher's. He gave Angel a sideways glance, and Angel said, "She's going to be hungry. It's too late in the day to go to the blood bank, and I don't want her consuming human blood…not while she's still a demon."

"You know, if we can't cure her, we can't restrain her forever," Giles looked at him gravely.

"We wont," Angel said simply. "If she can't be saved…then I'll deal with it. Human or not… Either way, I wont let her suffer." Gunn gave him a hard look. Angel looked down. "I'm sure we can save her though."

"That's a good attitude," Gunn said.

"It's what we have to face." Angel looked back to the hardware and went on. "We need to make sure she can't get out…and that no one can get in. Lindsey's still out there… At dusk he'll awaken, and who knows what he might do." Angel looked down sadly at the padlock in his grasp. "He murdered Cordelia. He tried to turn her to get back at me. He's capable of anything. He might come back for her."

"He doesn't know Cordelia will awaken," Wesley pointed out. "After he ran out, he doesn't know what you did."

"I know," Angel sighed. "But I don't want to take any chances. I'd tell you all to stay away, but the truth is…" He looked appreciatively toward his companions. "I…well, I need you."

"We wouldn't leave if you made us," Wesley said, offering a small smile. A look of understanding passed between them.

"I do want the three of you out of here for tonight," Angel quickly clarified. "At nightfall, you all leave. Giles, you can stay with Wes or Gunn, I'm sure,"

"You can stay with me," Wesley confirmed. Giles thanked him quietly. Angel nodded in appreciation to the younger watcher.

"Tonight, rest." He said. "Try to forget about things. Try to sleep. Then in the morning, return…and we'll finish this."

"We will finish this." Gunn reiterated confidently.

Wes took a deep breath and frowned. "We will."

The three of them stared at Giles. Gunn asked first,

"What do you say, Giles? Are we gonna finish this?"

Giles crossed his arms. "Yes…yes, we will."

They secured the hotel.

Wesley and Giles took care of the ground floor, locking windows and doors, and relieving every possible exit or entrance; the one way in and out through the door to the parking garage, which they very securely set with an installed deadbolt. Inside or out, you needed a key to unlock it, and Wesley very carefully hid that key in his shirt pocket.

Gunn helped Angel barricade his floor, and once they finished there, they took to his room, installing multiple locks on the door and creating a vampire safe atmosphere.

"What do you think?" Angel asked, packing away their equipment. Gunn looked around, satisfied.

"It's one giant nursery. Too bad we can't just stick the newborn in a crib and wait for her to grow up."

"It's secure?"

"It should hold…"

"Good. Now go. Get out. Take Wesley and Giles with you. Lock the door behind me, and don't open it again until I tell you to."

"Sure, man." Gunn picked up the bag and he and Angel walked to the door.

"And tomorrow, before you come, can you stop by her apartment? Pick up some clothes, and let Dennis know what's going on?"

"Sure thing."

"Thanks."

Both of them looked back at Cordelia, lying still on the bed. Gunn clapped Angel on the shoulder. Looking him in the eye, he said, "You have a long night ahead of you…I don't envy you." Angel nodded. "Good luck."

"Thanks."

"You know where to reach us…"

"I do."

"Okay, later, man."

With a final nod, Angel closed the door quietly behind him. He listened, waiting until Gunn had securely snapped all locks into place. Her waited for the outer deadbolt to click, and then listened as Gunn's footsteps trailed away, leaving them completely alone, and disappearing down the hallway.

Then Angel turned to face Cordelia, an impulsive anxiousness building within him. It was almost carnal; the same feeling all sires got when their childe was about to rise. Angel moved over to a chair, and sitting down, waited silently in the dark for her time to come.

He had felt the sun go down nearly an hour ago, and with nightfall, his assurance became absolute. She still hadn't moved…but she would. He could feel it. Just when he let his mind start to wander away from the image of her cold, dormant body, she twitched.

Angel froze, watching intently as her fingers moved first, then, eyes still closed, her head. She moved it from side to side, shivering slightly as if she were stuck in the midst of a dream…or a nightmare. Angel felt his own hunger growing as hers did in death. It was something a sire shared with his childe; creating the bond that would bind for eternity. He watched and waited, as still as a statue, hidden by shadow as the newborn became unleashed.

As she started to wake, she didn't recognize herself at all. She felt so empty and void, yet, so completely…energized. She couldn't remember ever feeling this way before.

She felt herself ascending from a dark place; confusion and fear clouding her, and a sudden burning deep within her limbs. She felt herself become something; materializing from complete nothingness, and not recognizing what she so frightfully craved.

And then her mind, fresh from oblivion, was now invaded with a meshing of images. And she felt herself screaming out in panic; crying out in desperation; as the lingering feelings she had in death now began to infect her in unlife.

It thoroughly frightened her. Oh, she was so afraid…

Cordelia sat up with a feral scream. She clawed at the air, and at an attacker, absent from flesh but all too real in her mind. She struggled. She screamed. She cried and pleaded. She didn't know where she was, or what she was, or what she was becoming.

Angel watched her from a distance, quelling his every impulse to go to her and reach out to her. Not yet… No, he couldn't yet…

She fell out of bed and landed on the floor, scrambling to the wall and then crouched in the corner. She panted like a frightened animal; wailing horribly, and calling, begging, to anyone for help. Angel had to remind himself that she was just an animal, and that he needed to wait…

He wouldn't touch her until she embraced her becoming.

She squeezed her eyes closed, covering her face with her hands. Her body shook and shuddered, desperately trying to hold onto the soul that was fleeting it. It hurt. It was the most disparaging feeling she'd ever endured, and she could do nothing to make it stop but wait for it to end. She felt herself spiraling, in which direction she couldn't tell. It didn't matter anyway…

She'd been damned.

Slowly, she quieted, as the body she encompassed finally agreed to release her soul in surrender. His heart breaking at her every tremble, now Angel came forth, and crawling down to his hands and knees, he reached out to her.

"Cordelia?" He called softly. She didn't hear him.

She kept her eyes closed, withdrawing into herself, rocking slightly in incomprehension. Angel swallowed, his throat dry. "Cordelia." He said more firmly. "Cordelia, it's Angel, open your eyes." She flinched at his voice, and turned her face towards him but hesitated. Angel came closer and attempted to touch her, but she hissed and twisted away, her chest heaving as she forced her breath.

Angel recognized the involuntary action. He understood she didn't realize yet what she now was. Her mind didn't realize that its body was dead, and it was still trying to function the way it had in life. Angel thought of Drusilla's becoming, and how similarly she'd reacted…only he'd driven her insane first… Each vampire awakened in a different way with different instincts and different impulses. Cordelia's had been fear; the same way that she had died. But no matter how they awoke, they all succumbed to their hunger, and Angel knew Cordelia would be no different.

He pushed the thought away.

Growling impatiently, he reached out and grabbed her arm, hissing her name and demanding she open her eyes and look up at him. He'd expected her to push away, but to his surprise she didn't. Her lashes fluttered open, and with large, wild, hazel eyes, she looked up into his face and, lips trembling, whispered,

"Angel?"

His softened at the sound of her voice.

"Yeah, Cordelia…it's me."

"Where—where am I?"

"You're safe."

"But what—" She started to glance around, and her voice rose. "What's going on…where am I?"

"The hotel," He answered, trying to keep her eyes on his.

Her eyes darted nervously; tears spilling out, though she didn't weep. Her head bounced, her chin length hair swaying as she surveyed her surroundings uncertainly. He reached out and cupped her chin, trying to still her, and keep her focused on his presence.

"What happened?" She repeated.

"Do you remember anything?"

She looked at him in confusion. "No! No, I don't!" She looked away again.

"Come on, Cordelia," Angel said, pulling her face back towards him. "Try…"

She paused hesitantly, thinking back. But she couldn't think. Something was upsetting her…something odd… She glanced around again and realized she was seeing things, there in the dark, that she shouldn't have been able to see. It was nearly pitch black in the hotel room, yet, Cordelia could see as if it were dusk.

She glanced at Angel, waiting patiently before her, and pressed herself back against the wall.

She could smell him.

No, not smell…taste. She could taste him on the air.

She gulped, looking past him and then at him, then past him, then at him again; growing more and more confused as she became aware of her awakening senses.

She suddenly noticed a buzzing noise. Bees? It grew to a crackling…fire crackling, burning on a spit? And then it grew…louder…louder…into a reverberating racket…insatiably invading her head, and not giving her a moment's peace.

"What is it!" She demanded breathlessly, eyes searching the dark wildly as the sound filled the room. She glared at the ceiling and walls.

"What?" Angel asked suspiciously, cocking his head to the side and following her eyes with his.

"That noise." She covered her ears.

"What noise?"

"You don't hear it?"

"No…what is it?"

"You don't hear it?" She panicked. "Angel, you don't HEAR IT???"

"What Cordelia?" He asked, dumbfounded. To him, the hotel was completely silent. Cordelia shook her head.

"THAT!" She screamed. "That horrible noise!"

Angel listened, but for the life of him, couldn't understand what she was talking about.

"ITS HORRIBLE!" She cried. "MAKE IT STOP!"

"Describe it, Cordelia!" She didn't answer and he shook her. "DESCRIBE IT."

"It's—it's—it's so loud! It sounds like…the wind! Like lightening on the wind! Like plastic! Like a plastic bag!…"

'A plastic bag?' Angel thought, and then suddenly realizing what she was talking about, took her face in his hands. "Cordelia!" He said, holding her still. She continued to cover her ears. "Cordelia! Look at me!" He had to grip her arms and shove them away from her ears. "You hear electricity!" He told her. "You hear it in the wires in the walls! Ignore it and it will fade. Ignore it and it will go away."

She stared at him in disbelief but then realized what he said was true. The grating sound immediately relinquished itself when she stopped focusing her attention on it. It dulled immensely, and when she caught it growing louder again, she quickly imagined it as a little noise…and then it was. It never totally left her; it was still there, humming in her inner ear, and she found it impossible to completely disregard.

She suddenly realized so many little noises, all nagging at her, all begging for her attention. She started to cover her ears again, but Angel wouldn't let her. She thought she was going to go crazy.

"Cordelia…listen to me. You have very sensitive senses…you must learn to control them. Don't be afraid,"

She was bereft.

"Cordelia, I'm here, don't worry, I wont let anything happen to you. You have to trust me…okay? Cordelia? Do you trust me?" Looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes, she shakily nodded her head. Angel sighed in amazement, lowering his eyes for a second, wondering if maybe she hadn't left him completely… Maybe she wasn't really gone…maybe because he had had a soul…

But he didn't get a chance to finish that thought.

She suddenly propelled herself into his arms, and closed her eyes again, breathing hard.

"Cordelia, stop. Cordelia," Angel reared back but she clung tighter. He frowned, his arms loosely around her. She buried her face into his shoulder and clutched at him, afraid to let go. Slowly, Angel slid his hands up her back. He swallowed hard, and against a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, trusted her to let him hold her. Slowly, he started to rock her, and she seemed to relax.

He stroked the skin of her back, just above where her clothing stopped. He listened as her breathing grew shallowed; her body tired and wearing down with its effort. He waited while her tense muscles expanded and softened. He closed his own eyes as his relief washed over him; glad that she was clutching to him and not pushing him away, and praying the rest of her transformation would prove even less grueling. So far, she'd been everything he hadn't expected.

Cordelia felt herself grow calm in his arms. She languished the familiarity he gave her, as nothing else seemed recognizable anymore. She listened to herself breath, her lungs taking in less and less air each time, and amazingly she found because she didn't need it. She ceased to breath, and yet, she continued to thrive.

As she inhaled one last time, she tasted him again. And that caused something deep within her to shift. She felt another maddening sensation overwhelming her, and she opened her eyes, her lids heavy and eyes glazed. Sighing against him, she closed them again, and when she opened them once more, they burned with golden fire. She nuzzled her nose against his collarbone, and before he knew what was happening, she bit into him.

Angel shoved her off, and scuttled back, his fingers touching his shoulder and coming away with slick blood. Cordelia hit the wall, and rolled to the floor. She reared back, her face twisted and changed and revealing her true form.

Angel's heart fell. She'd truly lost her soul.

Angel grimaced as she crossed the floor at him again. He punched her hard, and she flew against the bed. By now he was on his feet, as was Cordelia, but he was quicker, and before she could fully rise, he batted her down once more.

"I'm hungry!" She wailed, still reaching for him.

In a rage, he slammed his fist into her once again. She rocked back, falling against the mattress, and lay curled in a daze. He glared down at her, touching his shoulder once again, and then licked his fingers; understanding all too well what it was she craved.

He paced the floor steadily, trying to control his anger, and Cordelia started to cry. She buried her face into his pillow and smothered a wrenching sob. Angel stood back, listening to her grief. He wiped the sweat from his mouth and turned his back on her.

He went quickly into the adjoining bathroom where he'd stored away the butcher's blood in a box beneath the sink. He tore quickly into it, removing one of the jars and breaking its seal. He twisted off the cap and flung it aside as he walked back int the bedroom and towards the bed where she lay.

Cordelia had started to sit up, wiping her cheeks, her face once again human and her eyes in total despair. He stalked up to her and grabbed her chin. She squealed, fighting his hand, but he dug his fingers in. He yanked her chin forward, forcing open her mouth, and very forcibly, poured the animal blood down her throat.

Cordelia gasped and shoved him away. She spit what she hadn't swallowed out in a hiss, and then, the fluid spilling down her front, recoiled sharply.

"Drink it," He growled, coming towards her again. She darted back, clutching her stomach and holding up her hand to fend him off.

"Its cold!" She screamed.

"It's what you need!" He retorted, still coming. Again he grabbed her face, but this time she struggled and clawed, successfully shoving the detested jar out of his hand. It splashed across his chest in a deep red surge and fell to the floor, staining the carpet in a deep, dark black pool.

"It's disgusting!" She screamed. "I want something warm!"

"You can't have something warm!"

"Then I want something fresh! Please don't make me drink that!"

"That's all there is!"

"There's you! I want you! Why can't I have you!" She reached towards him and he shoved her away. "Angel! Let me taste you! Please! I want to taste you!"

"You already did that," He bit, rubbing his fingers over the sore, healing punctures in his shoulder. He glared down at the holes in his soaked shirt, then glared back at her as he stood over her. She wiped her mouth, then leaned forward eagerly, eyes pleading, and hands begging as she tried to touch him.

"I'm so sorry! Please! Let me taste you! I promise I wont drink too much…please! If you just let me taste you, I swear! I'll drink that filth! I'll do whatever you want! Please, Angel! Please! I need something fresh!"

He smacked her hand away as it reached for his pant leg. Her other shot up and grabbed the hem of his shirt. He tried grabbing her wrist, and forcing her to let go, but she wouldn't. Then her other hand clamped into the fabric just above his waist and she started pulling herself up his body. He grit his teeth as he tried again to force her off, but she was too persistent. She reached his collar and clung to him; staring up at his face, biting down on her lip.

"Stop it," He demanded as she leaned against him; his hands gripping her wrists tight enough to break them. But she wouldn't give up her hold. She just smiled sumptuously and tried to press herself further against him. Angel tried again. "Cordelia! Stop it! I don't want to hurt you!"

"Just let me taste you!" She pleaded breathlessly.

He found himself staring into her eyes, watching her come closer and closer. Chewing her bottom lip, she clamped her teeth down, and breaking her own skin, smiled as bright red blood seeped out.

Angel growled, smelling it, and she suddenly slipped her arms around his neck. She leaned forward and wiped her lip against his mouth, pulling away to leave a large red smear. And before he could stop himself, he ran his tongue out between his teeth, and sighed as he licked it off. His hands trailed lightly across her, finding their way around her back, and as she raked her teeth against the bare skin of his neck, he gave way to his arousal, and clamping his fingers together, lifted her against him.

With a snarl and a change, she bit into him again with a tender fierceness that drove pins up his spine, and he groaned.

Reeling, he spun around and dropped himself back on his bed with her on top of him. Her jaws locked down and she sucked steadily. His head lolled back against the pillows, his body on fire and wanting more.

Angel started to swirl. His eyes fluttered closed and he curled into her, pressing her to suck harder…

It was ecstasy.

He moved away slightly, and with a snap, she pulled him back. He found his mind starting to drift, and when he tried to right himself, he started to feel drunk.

She started to drink greedily, and it started to hurt more than he could bear. He opened his eyes, the room spinning around them, and his hands went to her throat. With a pained effort, he tightened his fingers, and she started to choke. Finally her jaws came loose and he forced her back, her body rolling off of his.

She lay still; her neck muscles convulsing. But she smiled. She closed her eyes, high, and flying on another world as his power seeped through her. She attempted to move, but found she didn't have control of her limbs anymore, and languishing herself against his silk sheets, she didn't care. Her leg stay entangled with his, but he didn't do anything to move it.

He was too busy swimming on his own high.

He hadn't done that in so very long… He'd forgotten how intoxicating it could be. His body pulsed with the insatiable heat she had caused in him. He lay quivering, and closing his eyes, he felt himself run away. A few minutes later he came to to the sound of her purring. He rose up wearily on one elbow, looking over at the creature beside him. Cordelia lay curled in a ball; her face eerily peaceful, a wide smile across her features, and her body lost in a dazed sleep.

He couldn't help himself. He laid a hand against the inviting softness of her skin, and moved it over her back, down her side and across her stomach.

She was burning hot.

He swallowed hard and looked her up and down, too tired to comprehend… What had he done? What had he been thinking? He removed his hand, sighing as he looked at the ceiling. He felt so weak…

He collapsed back against the pillows, and closing his eyes, past out again.