Part Four
Los Angeles
Tuesday, 4.30 pm
With the last of his strength, Angel drove
the silver-tipped spear into the demon's neck, and collapsed with it as it
howled in its death throes. The demon's out-flung arm smashed through the courtyard
door as it fell, loosening a partly broken pane which fell on Angel's shoulders
in a shower of glass fragments.
Above them, on the first floor landing, Fred
fired a barbed arrow at the last of the horde as it climbed the stairs towards her.
It howled as the missile lodged in its eye, and teetered for a moment before
falling backwards and rolling down the stairs. It landed, twitching, on top of
its dead compatriot, its legs across Angel's torso, the arrow protruding now
from the back of its skull.
Fred surveyed the hotel lobby, crossbow
primed and following her scan. Six demon corpses were scattered around the
floor, two were in a heap with Angel, and she could see the feet of another
protruding from behind the reception desk. All accounted for. Lorne lay
unconscious behind her, having received a sickening blow to the head from one
of the intruders' mace-like weapons, and Cordelia was somewhere in the office.
She knew that, because she was responsible for the corpse whose feet Fred could
see, but she didn't know if the seer was safe. Angel had barely been able to
stand when the attack began, and she dared not think what state he was in now.
With a sob, Fred buckled at the knees and sat down heavily on the top step.
The phone began to ring again, for the third
or fourth time in the last ten minutes; they'd been a little too busy to answer
it. Now, still praying for Charles' safe return, Fred ran down the stairs and
threw herself at it, hitting herself in the face in her hurry to get the
receiver to her ear. "Yes? Hello?"
"Who's that?" asked a voice not unlike
Wesley's.
"Me," she said, confused. "Fred. Who's
that?"
There was a pause, and Fred heard a whispered
conversation on the other end of the line.
"Of course," the voice said again. "This is
Rupert Giles. In Sunnydale. Is …?"
"Oh hi Giles," Fred smiled, relieved that it
was a friend, even though they'd never spoken before.
"Erm … hello," Giles returned uncomfortably,
not at home with such immediate familiarity. "Is Angel there? Or Cordelia?
Wesley, perhaps?"
"Wes is still in the hospital," Fred said
sadly. "Cordy is …"
Hearing the former cheerleader moan, Fred
leaned over the counter and saw her friend pushing herself into a sitting
position, rubbing her head and closing her eyes in pain.
"Cordy's here," Fred reported into the phone,
"but I'm not sure she can talk right now. Angel's out cold again," she added,
tears filling her eyes. "It's just me, I'm afraid."
"That's … that's fine," Giles soothed, trying
to hide his concern in an effort to keep her calm. "I'm phoning with
information. We've identified the demon that activated the portal here, and it
confirms that the dimension Buffy has been taken to is Kravlar, as
Wesley had suspected. The demon that took her – the one in Cordelia's vision –
is its … king, for want of a better word. We have some more details about the
key …"
Fred grabbed a pen and notepad, and started
to write.
Unnerved by the silence, Cordelia opened her
eyes, waited until her head stopped swimming, then carefully got to her feet.
Head pounding, she checked Fred with a glance, then entered the lobby. All she
could see were demon corpses, each of them oozing slime from various wounds and
orifices. Swallowing hard to quell the nausea that washed over her, she gripped
the reception counter and turned to Fred. Fred met her eyes, read the question
in them, and pointed towards the courtyard door and the first floor landing.
Hands outstretched like a tightrope walker,
trying to maintain her balance, Cordelia made her way across the lobby and up
the four steps to the pile of bodies that lay beneath the broken courtyard
door. Bending slowly, and mindful of the slivers of glass which coated all
three, Cordelia lifted the legs of the uppermost demon and wished she hadn't
seen the arrow emerging from the back of its head. She knelt down quickly and
gagged. When the feeling had subsided, she grabbed its legs again and pushed
them off Angel's back. Then she moved to the vampire's side, knelt beside him
and carefully pulled him over so that he was lying on his back, his head
cradled by her hand.
"God!" she gasped, horrified at the gashes that
were gouged into his face and chest. One of them was sizzling around the edges,
and the cloth of his shirt smouldered around the wounds.
Fred had finished the call, and now stood
below them in the lobby. The two girls exchanged tear-filled looks.
"I'll check on Lorne," Fred said, heading up
the stairs, when the phone rang again. She hesitated, torn between worry over
Lorne and the desperate need to hear that Charles was alright.
"Get it," came a voice from above. "I'm
fine."
"Okay," Fred called, heading back to
reception, "but stay there – I'll be with you in a sec."
"Not in a hurry to move," Lorne told her with
a moan.
Fred lifted the receiver more carefully this
time, and froze. Then her face lit up.
"Charles!" she shrieked. "Are you alright?
Where are you?"
6 pm
Gunn had arrived with half a dozen of his
friends an hour later, and now they all sat in the reception area drinking
coffee. Gunn's friends had disposed of the demon corpses – no-one wanted
details – and helped get Angel upstairs, where Cordelia and Lorne had cleaned
him up and dressed his wounds while Gunn had told them all what had happened to
him. He'd remembered being dragged from the battle scene in the sewer, and trying
to escape the clutches of the demons but they'd caught him and attacked him,
knocking him unconscious. The demons had apparently tired of him then, and left
him behind. Fortunately for him, it was near his old neighbourhood, and it
hadn't been long before Jayce, one of his home-boys, had found him and taken
him back to their base. He'd called Fred as soon as he regained consciousness,
knowing she'd be worried out of her mind.
Now, in the hotel reception, Fred sat on his
knee and hugged him as if she'd never let go. Gunn had heard about the two
attacks at the hotel, and Fred told them all of Giles' call. Lorne had just
poured the fresh coffee and for the moment everyone was quiet.
"So what next, man?" Jayce asked after a
while, lifting his chin at Gunn. "You got serious shit going down here."
"No kidding," Gunn agreed.
"We could move some of our guys in here," his
friend suggested. "You sure as hell need the back-up."
Gunn nodded, thinking it through.
"I think we should go to Sunnydale," Cordelia
said suddenly.
Everyone looked at her.
"I am in no hurry to go back
there, believe me," Cordelia told them, "but like Giles said, something's
working against us here and there. We're both researching the same thing
– or trying to, when we're not fighting for our lives – and we're both finding
it harder and harder. Whatever's taken Buffy is doing its damnedest to keep us
occupied here, so it knows we're working together anyway. If we're all in one
place, we might stand a better chance of fighting this … whatever it is we're
fighting."
"Makes sense," Jayce conceded.
"Not sure about leaving the hotel empty,"
Gunn shook his head. "There's still Wolfram and Hart to think about – they're
just waiting for the chance to get in here and lock us out."
"We can see to that, man," Jayce offered.
"We'll keep your place safe til you get back."
"Well if we're gonna do it, we'd better do it
soon," Fred said, "cos the clock's ticking."
"Soon as it's dark," Gunn agreed, knowing
that Angel could not travel during daylight hours.
While Fred told Jayce her theory about the
timings of each attack, and Gunn drew plans of the building with notes of its
strengths and vulnerabilities, Cordelia headed to the hospital to collect
Wesley, leaving Lorne to pack up supplies and weapons for their trip.
Upstairs, in a poison-induced coma, Angel
dreamt.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Angel
stepped onto the warm sand, luxuriating in the feel of it beneath his bare
feet. A gentle breeze tugged at his shirt, and seagulls called to each other
far above his head. Narrowing his eyes against the brightness, he stared down
the beach towards the sea, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face.
"I've been here before," he stated.
"Welcome back," said Buffy, slipping her hand
into his.
Angel felt her presence but couldn't see her.
He squeezed her hand, and she reciprocated.
"Where are you?" he asked, not alarmed. "I
can't see you."
"You'll find me," she said simply.
"Even if I was blind," he nodded.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Lilah Morgan felt a trickle of sweat slither down
her spine. She was not easily intimidated, but her current visitor scared the
shit out of her. Until today, they'd been best pals, working together amicably
despite some initial communication problems, toward a mutually beneficial goal.
Now he was angry as hell, and holding her responsible. And she had no idea what
was going on.
Lack of knowledge scared her almost as much
as Hrahek's temper. If she had all the facts, she could at least explain,
perhaps justify, recent developments. But she was in the dark, figuratively and
actually, and it was not a happy place to be. The demon couldn't stand
daylight, and insisted on switching out all the lights whenever they met.
Apparently it was something to do with his species' eyes, and the fact that
their world was almost permanently dark, having neither sun nor moon.
He growled at her now in his native tongue,
having tired of struggling to voice his ire in English. Lilah waited until he
fell silent, having learned earlier that he did not entertain interruptions.
"I promise you," she said carefully, hoping
her voice didn't sound as shaky as it felt, "I'll find out what happened, and
…"
"I know it happen," Hrahek growled. "You
betray. Kenjiin gone." He leaned towards her menacingly. "What now?"
"I'll get him back," Lilah smiled
confidently. "And deliver him to you. As promised."
Hrahek muttered something unintelligible.
Lilah shivered, wondering if the demon was telepathic and had seen she was
trying to bluff her way out of this.
"Two of your … days," he said, obviously
still coming to terms with the measurement of time. "I return. Take Kenjiin."
Lilah nodded, licking her lips in
trepidation. But the demon said no more, and disappeared into the dark corridor
beyond her office.
Lilah grabbed her cell-phone.
"We need to talk," she said through gritted
teeth.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sunnydale
Tuesday, 6.30 pm
"They're coming here?" Dawn repeated,
grinning cheerfully at Giles' news. "Yay! Reinforcements!"
Spike scowled at her, and the teenager's face
fell at the mixed reaction around the table in the Magic Box.
"Oh yay," Xander had muttered, no enthusiasm
intended.
"Do I know these people?" Anya had asked, and
her fiancé commenced a non-too-complimentary reminder of her previous dealings
with Cordelia, Angel and Wesley. "No I mean the other three," the ex-vengeance
demon interrupted, "the ones with strange names."
"Things must be bad," Willow had commented,
while Xander told Anya what little he knew about Angel's new colleagues. "For
Cordy to suggest coming back here …" She pulled a wide-eyed face, and Tara took her hand
comfortingly.
"Actually I think her suggestion is a good
idea," Giles stated. "Divided, we're weak – er," he amended, as Spike kicked
the table leg. "Weaker. As a combined force, our research will be more
effective and with Angel on our side, our battles will be shorter. Spike, if
you really must kick something, then please use the training room."
"Fine," the peroxide blond vampire pouted,
and slouched off towards the back of the shop.
"Oooooh, someone has sire issues," Xander
cooed, loving the fact he could tease the vampire without fear of physical
retaliation.
Spike graced him with a two-finger salute,
then slammed the training room door closed behind him.
"Must you goad him?" Giles asked. "He's
difficult enough as it is."
"And I don't see you waving flags," Willow commented with a
frown at her friend. "Angel can help."
"Isn't it a good thing that they're coming?"
Dawn asked, confused. "Angel can fight like Spike, and I heard Gunn is good
too. And Wesley can help with the research. Together we might be able to get
Buffy back sooner."
"I agree," Giles told her. "We'll make a
formidable team."
"Um …" Tara hesitantly raised a
hand, and everyone looked at her. "Um, I was just wondering … where will they
all stay?"
For a moment, several bunking options flashed
before everyone's eyes.
"No room," Xander stated quickly, while Anya
was still thinking about it.
"Well, I have the sofa …" Giles ventured, not
sure which of the six he would prefer as a houseguest.
"They can stay with me," Dawn said brightly.
"At my house," she added, in case they thought she'd squeeze six guests into
her room.
"We can move back to our dorm," Willow offered, but on
seeing Dawn's wide-eyed reaction at the thought of playing hostess to six
adults, she added, "or someone could have our room there."
"I'm sure we'll think of something, once they
get here," Giles nodded. "For the time being, we need to keep looking for
information on that guide to Kravlar, and organise tonight's patrol. Dawn – do
you have any homework?"
"Sure," Dawn answered, nodding
enthusiastically, "but I can finish it any time."
"Now would be a good time," Giles suggested.
"So I can patrol later?" Dawn asked, grinning
with hope.
"No," Giles frowned, wondering where on earth
she got that idea from, "so Buffy won't tell me off for letting you slack while
she's away."
Rolling her eyes, Dawn reached for her school
bag while the others discussed the evening's plan of action.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sunnydale
Tuesday night
As arranged, the Los Angeles convoy went
straight to the Magic Box on arrival in Sunnydale shortly after 10 that night.
They had travelled in two vehicles – Gunn drove his jeep, with Fred and Wesley
as passengers, and Cordelia took Angel's Plymouth GTX as it was wider than her
own car, allowing them to lay Angel more comfortably on the back seat, while
Lorne sat beside her.
Anya heard the jeep roar to a halt outside,
and alerted the others. Spike had made himself scarce, muttering something
about extra patrol, and Tara had taken Dawn home
to get ready for bed, leaving Giles, Willow, Xander and Anya as
the welcoming committee. A moment later Cordelia stepped through the door,
frowning at the bell which jangled above her head. She was alone, and didn't
look happy.
"Hey," Willow gave a friendly
wave, whilst the others greeted her more or less in unison. "Where are the
others?"
Cordelia stepped back across the threshold,
and waved for someone to join her. Moments later, she introduced Fred and Gunn
to the gang, while Wesley stiffly walked in behind them. Shocked at his
injuries, Giles helped his former colleague to a seat, and they all welcomed
the younger couple to Sunnydale.
"Angel?" Giles asked, looking from one to the
other of the four arrivees.
"In the car," Cordelia stated. "You'd better
take a look."
Unable to mask their curiosity, Giles and
Xander followed Cordelia outside, closely followed by Willow and Anya. Gunn,
Fred and Wesley stayed indoors. Cordelia quickly introduced them to Lorne, who
had stayed in the car with Angel.
"Is he dead?" Anya asked, peering into
the back of the car. "He looks dead."
"Geez!" Xander exclaimed, leaning over her
shoulder to look at the still-unconscious vampire. "He looks like death warmed
over … oh wait, he …"
"Xander," Giles warned. He looked at
Cordelia. "How long has he been like this?"
"About six hours," Cordelia said, worry
etched into her face. "Before that it was about five hours, so it's getting
longer each time. We think he's been poisoned." She gently pulled Angel's shirt
to one side to reveal the festering wound in his chest. "If we put anything on
them, they start to sizzle … it's really icky."
"Wow," Willow breathed, "déjà
vu."
"You know poisons, too?" Anya asked with
renewed respect.
"No," Willow replied. "I mean,
well, yeah, kinda … but 'déjà vu' means I've seen this before." She looked at
Giles. "Graduation?" she prompted.
"Similar," he nodded, peering more closely at
the wound.
"That must have been one heck of a ceremony,"
Lorne commented wryly.
Three Sunnydale High graduates and their
former librarian shared knowing looks. The ex-vengeance demon had the grace to
look away.
"It certainly was," Giles said.
"So what now?" Cordelia asked. "Do you have a
cure?"
"I'll need a swab," Willow said, wrinkling her
nose at the prospect of disturbing such raw wounds. "But I'm sure we'll find
something."
An hour later, Willow and Giles were
still at the Magic Box, researching demonic poisons. Willow had identified most
of the compounds that made up the poison infecting Angel, and combined with
descriptions of the demons that had wielded the toxic weapons, they were close
to discovering its cure.
"You're workin' late," Spike commented,
strolling in from the street. "House guests under yer feet already?"
"Research," witch and watcher replied.
"If you say so." Spike grabbed a seat, turned
it around and sat down, arms across its back.
"Anything to report?" Giles asked, knowing
Spike had been patrolling Sunnydale for hours.
"Killed me a handful of demons," the vampire
said with satisfaction, rolling his shoulders. "They put up a bloody good
fight, too – credit to 'em."
"Um, good," Giles said, a bit distracted by
Spike's apparent enjoyment of the kill. "Anything else? Anything unusual?"
"No portals, if that's what you mean," Spike
said flatly. He leaned over to look at the pages in front of Willow. "Who you planning
on poisoning? Can I have a go?"
"Angel," Willow murmured,
concentrating on the text she was reading.
"What? Bloody hell, count me in!" Spike sat up
attentively, rubbing his hands.
"He's been poisoned," Giles explained. "We're
looking for a cure."
Spike snorted in disgust.
"You two are no fun any more," he sulked.
He moved back into a slouch, and rested his
chin on his arms, watching the others read. Before long, they both found it
unsettling, and looked up at him.
"What?" he asked defensively.
"Care to help?" Giles asked.
Spike threw him a look of pure disdain.
"See," he said, shifting again in the chair
to open his arms, "the way I look at it is this. Me and Angel have a history of
not getting on. Most recently it has been … unfriendly, tense almost."
"Would that be because of you torturing him
that time?" Willow asked, remembering
Oz's account of the two vampires' competition for the Gem of Amarra. It seemed
a long time ago, but was only during their first year in college, about two
years earlier.
"I'm sure he'll have certain grudges," Spike
conceded reasonably. "Anyhow, I'm not getting involved in any potions or stuff
like that cos if it goes wrong then it's ten-to-one on that muggins here will
get the blame."
"You could take it as an opportunity to make
amends," Giles suggested.
"Oh, please!" Spike shook his head in
disbelief. "I think you're forgetting something. I'm a demon. He's
a demon. I can hurt demons. It's the only bloody fun I get around here."
They both looked at him in alarm: they had
all come to rely on him being on their side, and no-one had considered that
Angel's arrival would change that.
Spike laughed.
"God if you could see your faces!" he
exclaimed, genuinely amused. Then he sighed, and became serious again. "I won't
hurt your precious Angel," he told them. "Not because I don't want to – cos God
knows I do, and one day when this bloody chip comes out …"
"We have your word on that, do we?" Giles
asked sarcastically, regarding him with renewed distrust. "Angel's safe with
you around?"
"Yes you do," Spike replied indignantly.
Giles raised his eyebrows. "I promised her," Spike said quietly. "I promised
her I'd look out for those she cares about. You know, like the li'l bit. And you
lot," he added pointedly. "And since she still carries a torch for the poofter
I suppose he's included. So I won't hurt him."
He pushed himself off the chair and headed
for the back of the shop.
"Spike?" Giles asked, wondering where he was
going.
"Need somethin' to punch," the vampire muttered,
kicking the training room door open.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
