Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Angel waited patiently at the bar, cradling his beer in his hands. He didn't exactly feel like drinking, not whilst he hunted his prey. And it frightened him.

Ninety-eight years was a long time. He hadn't murdered until the youngsters that he and Darla had feasted upon in the playground. He'd been out of the game, but his mind was changing; old instincts were returning to him. Willow Rosenberg was slipping away from him. She was to be his next victim, something for him to cherish as he had cherished Drusilla.

She was to be his art.

You are so beautiful my love, he told himself silently as the girl entered his line of vision. You're so innocent, so chaste. But, oh my darling Willow, my sweetest child, I will make you so much more than you have ever dreamed of becoming…

Deep inside, he remembered who he was, what his soul had made him. Angel knew that he had to hold on.

For now he had become Angelus, for now he was free again…

"Hi," Willow kept her voice low.

"Hi. I was hoping you'd show," he told her. He nodded to the bar stool beside him. "Sit yourself down. Coke?"

Willow looked at him uncertainly.

Angel whistled. "Hey barkeep! A Coke for the lady?"

"Thanks," Willow replied, embarrassed.

Looking into the girl's eyes the predator within him became ever more aroused. He was losing it.

Hold together!

"Can I ask you a question?" Angel said.

"Sure."

"What's the worst thing in the world?

Willow froze for a moment. She was afraid of the answer that she was about to give him, he recognised that. He'd seen the look in eyes of most of the virginal women that he'd seduced both in his time as vampire and as a human. But that wasn't it…this went deeper for her.

Much deeper.

"Death," Willow said weakly.

"How come? I thought we were supposed to laugh at the ole Reaper?"

"Angel…" Willow said, upset.

"I'm serious Willow," Angel reassured her. "Why does death frighten you?"

"I…can't"

"Hey, its okay, you lost people didn't you. Lost enough of my friends and family to understand that…" Angel said mournfully. Even if I did lose them myself… he reminded himself.

"Oh God I'm sorry. God I feel so stupid now…" Willow said, angry with herself.

"Why? What is it?"

"I…found a dead body a few weeks ago in one of the classrooms at school," Willow imparted sadly. "I'd never seen anything so horrible…it was like she got torn. And why am I telling you this? I hardly even know you!"

Angel stroked her hand. "Because you want to."

"Her body was torn apart Angel, like some dogs got at her! Her throat…her…her. But when I looked at her she was so peaceful…"

Angel nodded. He'd been the first to find the body, he could remember it all as clearly as if it had happened only a second ago. "So now you want to cheat it?"

"I…don't know…" Willow's voice was unsteady.

Angel gave the girl a cold glance. "Its all over your face Will…no wait, that's not the whole story is it?" He closed his eyes and shook his head. "You want to know what its like don't you? You want to find the peace of it too. Its not enough for you to cheat death because you have to experience it…"

A tear streamed down Willow's cheek. "Angel stop you're scaring me…please stop!"

The girl's fear screamed like the banshee inside Angel's heart, consuming his senses, thrilling him. He couldn't wait, how could he? Part of her longed for the darkness to swallow her whole yet her mortal fear continued to inhibit her, tear her soul apart in the confusion. She was afraid of him because he spoke the truth to which she would never truly admit.

She was afraid of him…

"I can help you Willow," he whispered, tightening his grip on the girl's hand. "I can make you live forever…"

"No!" Willow shook violently as she pulled away.

"Willow!" he called hopelessly.

"No get away from me!"

Her head was spinning as she ran into the alleyway. Reason told her that she had made a bad choice, that she should have taken the front entrance but reason no longer held sway over Willow Rosenberg, least of all not now. She just had to get away from him, far, far, away from him, from his words.

She had to get away from the truth.

What's wrong with me! She screamed in her thoughts. Oh God, he's right, oh God he's right…

"Willow!" he yelled after her. "You can't run from the truth Will. I can help you."

"No!" Willow shrieked. "You're crazy! 'I can make you live forever!' I don't know what you think you are but you're crazy mister!"

"You're right!" Angel confessed walking towards her. "It was crazy talk…because you think you're going crazy Willow, I can help you stop thinking like that. I want to help you be yourself again, get rid of the pain, and make something of yourself! That's how you become immortal Willow!"

He made sense again. He hadn't moved too close. He was giving her space, holding out his hand in friendship, in love. She turned to face him again, in a manner of speaking; his face was masked with shadow – wiped her tears onto the back of her left hand and plucked up the courage to speak. "You gave me the wiggins back there, scared me half to death…"

Angel was close enough to touch her now. And he blew on her? "Weird huh?" he chuckled.

"What?" Willow replied, bemused.

Angel blew on her again.

But she couldn't feel anything…

Angel caressed her cheeks. "I just wanna help you find the truth Willow…" He shifted a hand to grip her neck tightly. He was choking the life out of her.

"Angel!"

"…It'll only hurt a little!" he whispered in a fit of quiet laughter.

He pushed her up against a wall and into the moonlight. "Uh, just thought I'd ask seeing as we're both in this great democracy that is America, do you actually want to be immortal and which would you prefer: neck or throat, I mean either way I won't take much blood its just I'll get a little more if you let me go for the latter – I'm hungry…" Angel told her.

"Please…no," she begged.

"Aw gee, I've got a tear in my eye. Thanks Willow, I've really missed that part. But um could you stop wriggling? It really doesn't help me…" Angel said happily as his features started to shift…

Willow screamed. Like most children she had nightmares about monsters hiding in the shadows or had hid behind sofas during horror movies but what Angel had changed into was different.

Because Angel was real.

Where once had stood the most darkly handsome man that she had seen in her life, now stood a furrowed browed freak with small yellow eyes that bore into her very soul, shaking her to the very core. It would kill her.

And it would relish that moment.

"Angel!" a voice shouted angrily from the darkness.

Suddenly, Angel cried out in pain and moved away from her. There was some sort of arrow in his shoulder.

The figure that emerged from the shadows sent shockwaves through her brain.

Mr Giles?

"Get away from him Willow," the librarian ordered.

"Mr Giles! What?"

Mr Giles' eyes widened. "Run back inside! For Christ's sake run!"

Willow could give no argument…

***

Giles kept his crossbow aimed firmly at Angel. The vampire had used him; his heroism had been nothing more than a sham, an act, and a game. His mind flashed back to the time Angel had visited him in his office weeks earlier, giving him his heart-warming tale of having been given a soul by Gypsies. He could have killed the vampire there and then. Instead, he had given Angel a chance to sire an innocent girl, to kill her.

Tonight, he would not make the same mistake twice.

Angelus was going to die.

Staring directly at the painful end of a crossbow bolt, Angel wanted to kick himself in the gut: hard.

Willow wasn't going to die. He'd been overzealous with his performance but he'd only intended to scare her; a task that he'd succeeded in completing.

As well as getting a Watcher to kill me, great night's work.

For about a second or so, he considered attempting to tell Giles the truth. The man probably felt like he'd been double-crossed, hearing about how a reformed vampire intended to sire an innocent girl in order to get the information he needed to stop the 'bad' vampires might actually seem plausible given the circumstances.

I was doing it to gain their trust, for the good of the world! But I made a mistake…Good plan Angel one hell of a good plan…why don't you just pull the trigger yourself!

Two options left.

One – kill the man, overpower him, make it quick if he could – they were on the same side regardless – and live to deal with Willow another night without the hassle of the girl knowing what he was and how she could at least try to defend herself.

Two – Carry on with the old Angelus routine, knock the guy out so that he was in the middle of next Tuesday by the time he came too, run off and hope you don't have another run in.

Decisions, decisions…

Think! You don't want to hurt this man any more than you have to do to stay alive. He's a Watcher, you're doing the same thing. And if and when the shit really hits the fan you'll need someone to ride shotgun…

"Hi, Giles"

The man said nothing in response. His mind was set; Angel could see it in his eyes. He was more than ready to pull that trigger - There were two ways anger could turn somebody; you got enraged or you got cold.

Giles was cold.

"You know ole buddy, you could hurt somebody with that thing if you're not careful"

Oh Giles was a bloody glacier.

"I suppose, I should give you credit Angel," The Watcher said calmly. "Cursed with a soul? Bollocks yes but you more than made up for it with the lives you 'saved'"

Then again…maybe I can turn up the heat…

"C'mon Giles stop! You're making me blush!" Angel said irreverently. "But hey what's with the banter pal? Go ahead dust me!"

Giles stood firm.

Angel sighed. "Hey, I understand this is a big day for Watchers everywhere. I kill what a Slayer? I killed her Watcher. Now here you are about to kill me you want to savour the moment."

The man looked surprised.

"C'mon! Look, if you're no going to put that bolt through me then just let me walk cause I've got better things to do with my Willow…"

"As you wish!" Giles replied through gritted teeth.

His hand was shaking slightly. He'd got him mad.

"Hey Giles, she's a real sweet kid isn't she?"

The Watcher's hand shook more violently.

Seeing his chance, Angel leapt at Giles.

The Watcher pulled the trigger but Angel managed to punch him hard in the jaw, throwing off his aim.

"Sloppy friend." Angel said, kicking him in the middle. "But as much as I'd like to stop and kill you, I've gotta go. See you around old boy."

Giles coughed up blood. He was out of it, but he'd be breathing tomorrow.

See you around Watcher, the vampire thought, Hopefully under better circumstances…

Willow had definitely been spotted at The Bronze last night. So when she wasn't there, he'd called her up. But Willow hadn't picked up and that had made him worry for her.

If she was with Angel…

No. Nothing could happen. Willow wasn't like that.

But then Willow couldn't get boys like Jesse let alone male models like Angel, whatever girls see in those guys…

Xander took another quick gulp of his can of Coke. He was frantic. If anybody hurt Willow right now he didn't know what he'd do.

That was it! He was going back to the library…

"Willow," Giles said uneasily. "I realize that you must have a lot of questions following last night and that you want a logical answer. But please understand that what I am telling you is the truth…Oh sod it!"

The chair in front of him did nothing rash.

He bit down on his lip. Willow was an intelligent girl. How was he going to be able to convince her that the man she knew as Angel was in fact a blood-siphoning demon that had possessed a human corpse over two centuries ago? His childhood in a Watcher's family had made it so easy for him to understand that vampires were part of the real world and not a mere myth or invention.

Willow, however, would most likely deny what she had encountered. Angel had tried to take her life, she would've been afraid. And fear led to suppression.

Which led to greater denial.

It was a vicious cycle but one that he still had to break if he was going keep the girl alive.

"Hi there Mr Giles," Xander said with mock cheer.

Willow's friend? Willow's friend! That's it!

"Excuse me, might I have a word erm…"

"Xander."

"Uh Yes! Xander, I don't wish to sound intrusive but I couldn't help but overhear yesterday that you have some sort of grievance with a man named Angel, would it be that he's dating Willow Rosenberg?" Giles felt tense. He was stuttering, how on earth was he going to sound convincing?

Xander looked blank. "Mr Giles I…"

Giles flicked through the photocopied pages in front of him. "Please bear with me. This is of the utmost importance!" He removed his glasses as he held out the page he wanted in front of Xander. "This Angel, does he resemble the man in this drawing?"

"What in the name of…his clothes. Historical re-inaction group?"

"His historical name was Angelus which translates as 'the one with the angelic face.' He was born in Galway Ireland. And he has walked the earth for over two hundred years feeding on human blood!" Giles kept his tone deadly serious.

"Exquese me? Did you just say over two hundred years? Blood? Wait let me guess he's a vampire?" Xander stood up. "You librarians really need to get out more. Bye, bye."

"Xander, listen to me!" Giles said forcefully. "He wants Willow so that he can make her as he is: a vampire. If that happens she'll be worse than dead! You will have to go to sleep each night knowing that a demon walks speaking in her voice, wearing her face!"

"No, wait. You just think that there are vampires…"

Giles quickly produced another sheet of paper. "This is a sketch of a vampire's demon visage! Have you seen this before? Xander!"

Giles slammed his fist against the table. He was now shouting at an empty space…

Angel swore as his clock greeted the passing of another long hour. He'd lost control; allowed his passion for the kill to overwhelm him and rule his judgement. He'd rushed into things with Willow.

And he was going to pay for it.

I had her. She was afraid of me; that should've been it, job done. But I screwed up, led myself up shit creek. Who did I think I was? Brando?

The vampire knew that his face was transforming. He was angry.

Willow still had to be sired, there was to be no getting away from that fact. Though Giles had become a complication the plan had been set into motion. He had no choice.

But how was he to break the child?

With Drusilla it had been a mere parlour game. She was a child of the purest soul; ripe in its innocence, by separating her from all she held dear he had spiked her fear with the most sublime grief until she was no more than putty in his hands.

Willow had only fear; inside her mind she held her darkest wish: to find the peace of death whilst ultimately defying it but fear was never enough. Siring the girl in the midst of fear? He needed more.

Pain.

Pain…

In a moment it became clear to Angel. If he hurt the girl physically, if pain were to be the cornerstone from which he could turn her…

Tonight…

***

Waking up, Willow made no note of what time of day it was. After all why should school matter when you've had to stare straight into the eyes the devil? She was safe cooped up in her room where he couldn't harm her.

She was alone.

She smiled a little at the thought of Mom and Dad being home. Ira Rosenberg was a loving father – whether he could believe it himself, he would understand her, hold her, whispering gently that everything was going to be alright now that he was around.

But Mom!

Sheila Rosenberg would – in keeping with tradition – lose her head, sounding off with her usual brand of psychobabble. Her daughter was, after all, a "typical" – quote marks for sarcasm – American teenager for whom numerous studies by renowned "experts" (for 'experts' read: herself and her colleagues) could solve any perceived problem or rather a problem that only she herself perceived.

Bet the experts don't have something to say about this…

Willow laughed out loud; it was either that or cry again. Only a day had passed since she had felt everything to be oh so wonderful. A guy had expressed a romantic interest in her. Twenty-Four or so hours on and he was trying to kill her. Life had once again spiralled out of her control.

She looked up at the ceiling. If someone up there wanted to drive her out of her mind then he was doing a damn fine job of it so far.

A damn fine job - not that she would ever say it out loud…

Angel.

What was he?

But, more to the point, who was 'Mr Giles'…how did he know?

Thirsty

Willow uncrossed her legs and slid off her bed to get a drink of water from the kitchen.

Her throat was dry…

Xander walked up Willow's driveway. He'd had enough of school. Lesson time was one thing but a lunatic librarian who thought he was Simon Belmont or something was way too damaging for the brain.

Yes vampires are real…yes I know Mr Giles…yes you go and fight the mean old vampires…but you really shouldn't get out of your jacket now should you! Vampires, yeah right.

The funny thing was, he'd almost accepted what the Brit was telling him. Whoever had worked on that drawing of Angel – Angelus – had made the most striking likeness. But there was no way…no way that vampires were real! Except in horror movies.

Scratching his head, he knocked the front door.

No answer.

"Willow!" he shouted at the top of his voice. "Will? You around?"

Still no answer.

I know you're there Will, and I'll be back later but right now – as unbelievable as this probably sounds – I've got homework to do before Mr Miller makes me a history lesson tomorrow!

Willow shed a tear.