without spirit or cause

Part 4




Cordy: "Vampires sloth demons you know what's really, really evil? Tequila."

*

Okay. Let me try not to throw up. Angel paused, making a face. Squinting, to clear those fuzzies in his head, he continued, Cordelia's alive?

Yeah huh. You think you might want a couple of pretzels? I can get em for ya. Lorne started to rise from the table, only to sit back down suddenly when Angel grabbed his arm.

Sit down. Explain. Now, Angel growled.

I can see somebody's less drunk than the original survey. Off Angel's menacing look, he added, You had a vision, didn't you?

A vision? No. I'm not the link to the Powers That Be. Cordy was.

Hey, that little talk you had with her earlier? Another moment of clarity, Angel. I just got this feelin' from you and your take on Nilsson, but I can tell that she's not of the dead.

In the – the vision, she mentioned something about her clothing. When she died, she wasn't wearing the same outfit. Soit might've not been her? Angel pressed a hand to his head, wincing. I'm acting like Spike here. Getting drunk is bad.

Beats me. I'm no Columbo. That's for you to figure out, hon.

You have to give me.. more than that. What else did you see? Angel's posture straightened slightly from his slouching.

Lorne sighed. Persistent little scamp, aren't ya? Now, all I could pick up was a warehouse, and something reading Smith Movers. That's it.

Staring for a couple of seconds, Angel nodded. That's – that's great.

He stood up, teetering slightly. Wincing once more, Angel muttered, Next time I come in, I'm on your blood offer, all right? Cause I shouldn't drink.

You and me both, Angel. Now go on. Time's a wastin'.


So he just left? Gunn leaned back against the wall. He walked out? You didn't stop him?

How could I? He looked like he was about to shove my head into the bloody wall! Besides that, he quit, Wesley responded, taking off his glasses. He took out a tissue to wipe his glasses, shaking his head.

Quit? Aww, no man. Not again. Gunn made a fist, slamming it into his other palm. Why does he have to go and do somethin' like that?

I don't blame him. It's Cordy, Fred muttered from her seat near the desk. She looked up at Gunn, who gave her a slow nod.

You're right. I'd probably do something outrageous if I was Angel.

The quiet girl looked a little lost for a moment, then asked Wesley, "Did you.. Start making funeral arrangements?"

"Not yet. It's rather hard, since When you took Angel to the car, remember Gunn and I hung back?" After a nod from Fred, he continued, "We went to check up on the area where Cordelia fell, and we didn't find her body."

Canting her head, Fred raised an eyebrow. "Why didn't you tell Angel?"

"Because I was afraid of what he would think. Those creatures are known for.. consuming the dead And I was afraid of what he would do. Angel believes he can resurrect Cordelia, which isn't exactly a good thing. Resurrections are very tricky, and even if she does come back, who's to know whether she'll be a monster or something of the sort?

Angel didn't exactly say he was gonna bring her back. He had like.. other books about other things. Fred leaned an elbow against the desk surface.

Wesley stopped cleaning his glasses. What other things?

Well, he did have some book on transformations And stuff like that. I don't know what he's up to, though.

The best thing we can do is just.. wait and–

Fred jumped as the phone rang.

Could you pick that up? Wesley put his glasses back on.

Nodding, Fred picked up the phone. Hello? Oh it's you. We were – What? Oh. Okay. Then she handed the phone to Wesley. It's Angel.

I wonder what's on his mind? Wesley put the phone to his ear.

She's in a warehouse down town. Smith Movers Company. I've heard of it before. Angel's voice came from the other end, yet the connection was full of static.

Are you driving?

I'm gonna go save her. You in, or not? Last chance, Wesley.

Angel, I don't think going on a wild goose chase is a good idea.

Fine. Suit yourself.

If you would just listen to reason–

Click. Angel turned off his cell phone.

The very idea! Wesley hung up the phone in a huff. He turned to look at Gunn, who was giving him a questioning look.

Angel's located a building where Cordelia may possibly be. He insists she's alive.

They stayed quiet for a moment.

Are we going or not? Fred asked.

I'll get my coat, Wesley said, moving to the coat rack.


"Now we shall see if you are truly cursed, my child. I pray you are not."

*

"Angel.."

Dark, and rancid, the stench of inhuman flesh rolled over her in waves. Metal digging into her flesh, old wounds screaming with pain. Her head lazily turned to the side, a teary eye opening.

"Angel."

She screamed his name at first, then spoke it, whispered, whimpered it after they came towards her, hot pokers digging into her, testing her, because she was 'cursed'. The priests needed to be sure she was the light which shines in the darkness. And yet no matter how much she screamed for help, they didn't care.

She was, after all, a tool of the Covenant.

She faintly knew this was different than what happened before, but by then, she drifted, and couldn't remember what she had been thinking about before.

"Where are"

Choking back a sob, she blinked, seeing a shadow of a familiar face. Evil, yellow-eyed, vampire face. But shifting, becoming human and handsome. Becoming Angel.

"A-Angel"

A look of sadness and surprise crossed his face, mouth opened slightly. He mouthed her name, reaching out towards her. All the while, he kept moving farther away, blending into the shadows with his dark clothing. She cried out for him, in pain, and he shouted back, silent.

Then he was gone. Everything was quiet once more, and she was alone within the darkness.

In the distance, someone screamed.


"Angel."

"What?!" Angel asked, startled. Fortunately, he slowed the car a few seconds before, searching for parking. Unfortunately, because of getting surprised, he swerved the black convertible rather ungracefully before managing to drive within the lines.

He frowned, pulling the car to a stop inside an abandoned, dank alley. I must be losing my mind. First that vision, or whatever it was, now this. I'm getting voices in my head.

Rubbing his temples, Angel got out of the car, surveying his surroundings. A typical bad neighborhood, one filled with gangs and shootouts. All the good residents knew of these crimes, so they stayed indoors late at night, except for the few stragglers walking home after a night out clubbing.

Angel shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Rushing in blindly would do no good, since he didn't know what he was up against. It might be a whole fleet of them, like before, he thought.

He opened the trunk of his car, pausing to look inside. Fortunately, he had some extra weapons left there. Even thought there were better weapons back at the Hotel, he didn't need more of Wesley's lecturing.

I've had enough.

Lifting a sword with an ornate sheath, he slipped the sheath underneath his jacket, clipping it to his belt. A few stakes would be all right, even if they're not vampires. But it'll sure hurt like Hell. He reached to get the stakes, then his dark brown eyes lingered on the crossbow there, and suddenly, Angel remembered.


Cordy: "...He'll protect you, catch you when you fall! You can count on it. And you can count on me, because I'm the Dark Avenger."

Angel: "I'm the what?"

Cordy: "The Dark Avenger."

Angel: "I'm the Dark Avenger."

*

One Week Ago

"Cordy. Pay attention. You're holding it the wrong way. See? No, no. Your hands go here. Not there."

"You know.. That really doesn't sound right."

Angel gave his friend a petulant look. He sighed, raising an eyebrow at her. "Do you want to learn how to use this thing, or not?"

She gave him a sarcastic look in return, eyesight drifting towards the crossbow in her hands. "I already know how to use it," she complained.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah! I mean, I was this close–" she spaced her thumb and index finger close together "–To dusting Spike last year. Well, if it wasn't for the fact that he would've killed me before that happened, but still! I'm pretty handy with this thing!"

"I know you know how to use it, but at least can't we work on your technique?" Angel folded his arms across his chest.

"Fine, Mr.Broody Guy!" Okay, that was lame, she thought. "You have a real good way of getting me all mixed up, did you know that?"

"It's what I live for," Angel drawled, leering at her.

"Pfft." Cordelia straightened her posture, oblivious to the fact that she started to blush. Angel could tell she was nervous, sensing her accelerated heart beat. Oh, the wonders of being a vampire.

She held the crossbow loosely in front of her, shaking a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Well?"

He sighed. How does he do that we he doesn't even breathe? Cordy watched him walk over to her, moving behind her. He put his pale hands on the undersides of her arms, adjusting them to properly hold the large crossbow.

She shivered, looking down and back behind her, briefly seeing a flash of his dark black pants and crimson shirt. Then she looked to her front again, swallowing. He was right behind her, leaning down to her, holding her. Not because she had a vision, just because she needed to brush up on her technique.

That was all they were doing.

"There Yeah. Like that. Good." Angel's chin was right over her shoulder, and he looked at her face, slightly confused at her furrowed brow. His grip tightened slightly on her arms, hands moving to her elbows.

"Cordy?"

She blinked. Focus, focus. Cordelia shook her head, frowning. Stop thinking about ..everything! I have to let Angel teach me; otherwise he'll get all - miffed. And a miffed vamp isn't a good thing.

It's just.. Why does he have to hold me like that? He's so close and we– It's not like I'm having a vision. Damn it. Stop it; stop doing this to me!

He leaned very close to her, his mouth inches away from her ear. "There A little higher. Yeah. That's it."

She knew that if he could breathe, she'd feel it right nowHe was so close to her, his skin inches away from hers. Such factors stuck out in her mind, making it very, very hard to try and not shoot anything wrong. For one thing, Angel was sometimes oblivious to the fact that he was hot. He just didn't understand it sometimes. Anyway, his fun job at brooding about his past usually got in the way.

His grip tightened once more on her arms, putting them in the correct crossbow hold. She cleared her throat, letting her now shaky finger pull the trigger, but at the last possible second, she jerked slightly, sending the arrow into a marble column.

"Wow. One uh, slayed column." Angel raised an eyebrow, then turned Cordy around, and watched the crossbow fall from her limp hands. It clattered to the floor to her side, an echo resounding off the tiled hotel lobby floor. She licked her lips, looking down. As his hands went on her arms, she raised a palm to her forehead.

"Vision?" Angel asked, concerned. But this time Cordy did not begin to flail about.

"No." She cleared her throat again, staring at that same spot on Angel's shirt, trying not to let her eyes linger up to his collar, the shirt loosely buttoned as usual, showing some of his pale skin and chest.

"What's the matter, Cordy? You're shaking." Angel's tone was low. What Is she still suffering from her last vision? Why didn't she tell me? He pulled her closer to him, watched her shake ever so slightly in his embrace.

"It's just–" She sniffed, wiping her nose. "I can't concentrate."

"Why not?"

"I I just can't! Okay?! We can't–" Cordy clamped her mouth shut, pushing away from him. She looked dejected, eyes glancing to the floor, then him.

Angel stood there, confused, mouth open slightly.

"I- I have to go." She moved to the small couch where Willow had sat merely a few weeks before, bringing the news of Buffy's death. Cordelia picked up her denim jacket and shoulder bag, moving to the door.

Angel followed, looking up at her on the small stairs. "Is it something I did?"

Cordy turned around to look at him, slipping on her jacket and bag. Aww, don't do it. He's gonna There! He's doing it! Annngeeellll. He's giving me those puppy dog eyes! Argh!

"It's not you, Angel. It'sme, okay? I have I have an audition," she finished lamely. "Well, I uh, I'm gonna have onetomorrow! So I need to get home and prepare for it."

"Oh." Angel cleared his throat, glancing down for a beat, then back to her, his hands slipping into his pant pockets. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked quietly.

"Spur of the moment? I didn't want you worrying about me, when you have other things on your mind." Before he could say anything else, she added, "I really, really have to go. See you tomorrow."

Without more than a thin smile, she left the Hotel, leaving a confused Angel behind.


Cordy There wasn't any audition, was there? You never talked about it the day after, which isn't like you. You were just.. afraid of me? Something I did?

"Who am I kidding? It's not like she can tell me," Angel muttered, grabbing a few stakes. He took one more look at the crossbow, then slammed the trunk shut. After slipping the stakes into his jacket pockets, Angel moved to the pavement, starting to walk down the alleyway nearby, senses honed for anything out of the ordinary.

Just find her, then get out of here with her. Simple as that.

It occurred to him that Lorne could possibly be wrong, or he could be sending him on another fruitless venture like what happened certain times before. Yet this time, Angel also had a strong feeling, one that came from his gut, and from his soul. If Lorne was wrong, he could handle that, but getting that vision of Cordelia also proved that there was something erratic about the way she died.

Then again, she might not have died at all.

Angel craned his head back, seeing the faded spray painted sign of 'Smith Movers Company', an organization he remembered from his time in LA during the 50's. Another moment of feeling old, since the place was no longer the well maintained building of his time in Los Angeles, but now another place of disease and trash which grew like weeds throughout the Los Angeles landscape.

While Angel was reminiscing, he heard a sound. Eyes focusing, he turned to look at the alley in front of him, hand moving into his pocket for a stake. The tactic of calling out for the 'kitty' would do no good here, but just the same, Angel wished whatever it was to simply come out of hiding. Makes it easier that way.

"AngelIt's you, isn't it? I kept hoping you'd find me."

He stopped in his tracks. The stake clattered to the ground, while Angel's eyes opened wide. It can't be.

"Come on AngelIt's- It's me."

Then, she staggered out of one of the many shadows in the alley, holding her side in pain. Getting her bearings, she looked up at him, those beautiful, sparkling eyes that were once dead looked up at him.

"It's Cora."

Brow furrowed, Angel looked like he was having trouble standing up. Besides that, looking even more like a lost child who was soon to collapse. Angel moved closer to her, lifting a hand to caress her cheek, feeling her smooth skin beneath his cold fingers.

"It's you," he whispered.

"I knew you'd comeYou'd never leave me. Please AngelLet's go home."

"All right. One thing, first?"

"Yes, Angel?"

Faster than the blink of an eye– demon or human– his hand clamped around her neck, shoving her against the wall of the alley, face hardening to reveal the savage vampire within.

"Now. Let's catch up on old things, shall we?"