Dust Thou Art
by Jeanne Rose
Part 2
"Turn left at the next light. It should be Wilshire Blvd."
Angel switched lanes and looked for a street sign. The air was finally beginning to cool, blowing in from the ocean, and it felt good rushing past his face. To his surprise, Wesley was proving to be an adept navigator. At this point Angel was inclined to appreciate any small favors the universe deigned to throw his way. He could not even bring himself to wonder why Cordelia had neglected to inform him that they were behind on utility payments. Didn't they usually give you two or three months before cutting off service? Thank goodness she had begged off this trip to catch some evening audition. A day without sleep had not done wonders for his patience.
Wesley hunted for numbers as they drove. "1546 . . . 1620 . . . 1688 . . . why don't more businesses put their address on the front, for goodness sake? . . . 1760. We've gone too far. It has to be one of the office buildings back there."
Angel turned the corner and parked out of sight. All of the doors they tried were locked for the evening, but beside the main entrance they found a placard with the street numbers of the businesses within. Together they stared at the listing beside 1710.
"Wolfram and Hart," Wesley read aloud unnecessarily. "Must be a branch office."
Angel abruptly pulled Wesley away from the building. "And they gave us the address. They are probably expecting us."
They hurried back to the car, expecting shots to ring out or demons to attack from the shadows at any moment, but nothing happened. Angel rubbed his eyes, feeling fatigue creeping up in his brain. "It figures. They've had it in for me for a while now. Trust them to come up with something really creative."
Wesley folded up the map, getting all the creases right, and picked up the newspaper he had brought along. "We may have another problem."
"What?"
"There's been trouble at the waterfront. Demon trouble, I'll wager."
"What does it say?"
"Remains of several persons gone missing who were last seen around San Pedro harbor at night were found washed up on shore this morning."
"And?"
"They look as if they've been snacked on by something with really large teeth."
Angel looked at Wesley incredulously. "They put that in the paper?"
"In point of fact, no, but something about it seemed suspicious, so I did some checking."
"Well, aren't there any, uh, big fish in the bay? Sharks, maybe?"
"Are you kidding? With all that pollution?"
It didn't seem terribly promising, but at least it was something to do besides sit at home and have nightmares "OK, let's go have a look."
* * *
Lindsey McDonald stepped back from the darkened window, satisfied. The junior assistant beside him was exuberant.
"He's taken the bait," Payton whispered ecstatically. "It's working."
"Did you doubt that it would?" Lindsey asked coolly.
"No, no, of course not. I told you, no demon has survived the amulet's curse for longer than 2 days. It's just nice to have some proof, that's all."
"I'm not sure it was wise to tip him off to our involvement."
"What, are you afraid he'll come after us? What could one vampire do? Don't worry. It'll work."
Lindsey studied the other man just long enough to make him start twitching. "You know the senior partners will have your head if he interferes with their plans," he said. "And I'm not speaking figuratively."
Payton swallowed nervously. "Hey, I was the one stuck doing inventory of cursed swords and moldy scrolls and preserved demon parts in that tomb of a vault. I was the one who found the amulet. If there's any credit to be had here, it should go to me."
"As will the blame if it doesn't work. That is usually the way the game is played," Lindsey reminded him.
"It'll work. You'll see. By the time that amulet is through with him,
you won't have to worry about your super vamp interfering with anything ever again."
Twilight had nearly turned to darkness by the time Angel and Wesley reached San Pedro. Angel led them in a circuitous path along the waterfront, poking his head into warehouses and railcars, occasionally stopping to talk to longshoremen working on the wharves. They didn't look like the type to be easily spooked, but suspicion and dread hung heavily in the air. No one had many words to spare for strangers.
At the far end of the harbor he slipped through a gate and walked out to the edge of a long pier. Wesley followed silently. The ocean lapped rhythmically at the posts below. The lighthouse out at the entrance to the harbor blinked periodically with a bright green light. Angel took a deep breath of the sea air, appreciating the sense of the vast dark ocean spread out before him. Finally he turned to Wesley.
"Something's definitely happening here, but there's not much to go on . . . " he trailed off, thinking he had heard an odd, muffled sound. He looked back along the pier, then out into the water.
"What is it?" Wesley asked.
Angel stared at the surface of the water. "I think there's something out there."
He heard a cry behind him and turned just in time to see Wesley get pulled into the water. Angel shed his coat and shoes in an instant and dove in after him.
He kicked furiously, swimming as fast as he could, and by some miracle his hand latched onto Wesley's ankle. Cold water streamed past him as they were dragged further from shore. He caught hold of Wesley's belt and tried to pry open the huge claws wrapped around his waist, but they wouldn't budge. He hadn't brought a knife. With no alternative, he bared his fangs and sunk them into the rough skin of the creature's forearm.
The blood was thick, far too salty, and overpoweringly rich. He swallowed involuntarily as the strange hot blood poured into his mouth. Then suddenly the claws opened, freeing Wesley, and Angel was violently shaken loose. He reached up to make sure his jaw was still intact, then got an arm around Wesley's chest and kicked to the surface.
Wesley spluttered and coughed but didn't resist as Angel towed him back toward the lights on the pier. By the time they reached it, Wesley was able to climb out on his own.
"You OK?" Angel asked. His stomach churned uneasily, full of the creature's blood.
"Just bruised, I think," Wesley answered, feeling his ribs with probing fingers. He was beginning to shiver, and Angel handed him his dry coat.
"It must have gone for the only good eating in the party," Wesley commented wryly.
Abruptly Angel leaned over the edge of the pier and vomited the contents of his stomach into the water. Immediately he felt much better. Wesley looked at him strangely as he straightened. "Are you all right?" he asked. "I didn't know vampires could – "
"Neither did I," Angel finished. It had been a very long time since his days of puking up his guts under the influence of Irish beer.
Then his eye was caught by a dark shape hovering just above the surface of the water, barely visible against the faint gray tinge on the western horizon. He stared at it, trying to make out the details. It was hard to tell how far away it was, to get an accurate idea of its size. But he could feel it watching them and had a fleeting impression of a huge, sinuous shape hovering just below the water.
He got up and pulled Wesley to his feet. "It's still out
there," he said. "Come on." Together they hurried back up the
pier.