Connor was in a piss poor mood. He was brooding, which wasn't normal for him. Slamming his hand down on the desk, he left his father and Cordy standing there. The light was bright and he felt heat hit his body. He didn't see her when he exited the motel. Swearing, he turned left on a gut feeling. He allowed himself to follow those feelings until he saw her a few blocks a head. She hurried into a small house on a corner. Frowning he followed, but didn't enter.
(Slipping into the house...)
Hurrying she opened the door and shut it behind her. Checking to see if there were people waiting, she pushed her way through the beaded doorway and entered a candlelit room. Her eyes adjusted to the dime light. She saw the old woman; her back turned to her. The old woman was fragile. She took one step forwards before the voice spoke along with the jingle of bells. "Nikkylia, come and sit down my child."
Hurrying over she pulled the chair out which was facing hers. She glanced at the old woman's profile in the candlelight. She saw a hint of a smirk. "Thank you Katrina. I'm in trouble."
"I know my child, even though it has been some time."
"I know, I meant to come sooner but-"
"Don't worry my child, you come when you can." Extending her hands, she gripped the young woman's. "I know they hunt you. They won't stop until you're found and dead. You and I understand why. There is hope, a young man. Dark hair, fair eyes and complexion. He is strong, and will help you. You my child must learn to trust again. That is the only way to survive. He is concerned for you, even now. Searching is what he is doing. Remember Nikkylia, he is persistent and will not fail. Avoiding him by running will only get you injured."
"Katrina, I don't think I can do that."
Flipping her hand over to see her palm she shook her head. "You have no choice. Find him, my child. If you don't, when he finds you there wont be anything left." Glancing at her palm she traced the lifeline. "You had many close calls. Another will come soon. Open your heart and trust him. That is the only way." Turning her palm over she glanced into the girl's eyes. "Now have some tea, eat, and you can change out of those clothes and into some of your own."
"Thank you Katrina. What would I do without you?" leaning down she kissed the old woman's cheek.
"You couldn't. Now go."
Leaving the old woman, she went into the adjoining kitchen. Filling the water pot before she went into her spare room. Katrina knew her after the accident. She then kept clothes ready for her whenever she needed them. Opening the dresser, she pulled out jeans and a blue long sleeved top. Pulling them on, she found a dark sweater. Ignoring her scars she pulled her shoes on. Hearing the whistling of the pot, she hurried out. Pouring two cups, she walked back into the reading room.
"I left yours plain like you like it. I hope you didn't-" she stopped mid sentence and dropped the cups. Towering over the small gypsy woman was a vampire Nick knew all too well. She barely noticed the scalding temperature when it spattered on her legs. The hot liquid pooled over her feet. Her breathing condensed and shortened. Shaking her head, she moved backwards. She began to mutter something under her breath when suddenly she heard a short ring out. Something slammed into left shoulder and sent her backwards into the cabinet. Her arms tried to keep balance as she hit, the glass exploding on contact. Her balance was shot to hell as she hit the ground with a thud.
"Any last words old hag?" he asked Katrina. His hand wrapped around her neck and he waited for her to say something.
"Remember what I told you Nikkylia. I will-" before she could finish, he snapped her neck cleanly into two. Tossing her frail body across the room, he looked at her. Smiling he walked to her. Nick struggled up onto her arms. There was blood gushing down her left side and it hurt like Hades. Bits of glass were biting into her skin. He quickly grabbed her head and pulled back, exposing her neck.
"Any last words?" his voice was smug and filled with triumph.
"Yes, go to hell." She spat directly into his face. His face began quickly distorted with anger. Before he did anything, he wiped the saliva from his face. As he kept his right hand in her hair, he grabbed her forearm with the other. Quickly snapping it. The pain almost pushed her over, but his face kept her there.
"Bad Nikkylia. I would have gone easy on you. I would have granted you peace. But atlas, you leave me with no choice but to leave you here to die." Head bunting her he let his grip go. "I will miss our get togethers, really. Don't take too long to die Nikkylia." He was almost to the basement door when he turned around and smiled. "Do give your great-great-great grandmother my regards." Blowing a kiss he disappeared down the steps.
She knew he had won. She was dying and there was no one to help her this time. Her luck, which had held, finally ran out. Her chest and arm were on fire. She tried not to jolt them as she used her feet to move her a few feet away from all the glass. When she reached the carpet, she moved her good hand over to the arrow. In one swift movement, she pulled it free. A small sob escaped her throat as she tossed it to the side. As she shifted her head, she saw the trail of blood she left from where she moved. Her hand came in contact with the small clear globe. It must have been knocked on the ground when Dmitrij jumped Katrina. With all her power she threw it in the general area of the window.
(Just as the globe pushed it's self through the window...)
The sound of glass breaking was what pulled him out of his scouting. Glancing back at the house, he knew something was wrong. Running, he kicked the doors open and rushed into the house. He saw a body lying there through the beaded door. Carefully he pushed his way through. He saw the old woman; it was obvious she'd been killed. Her neck was broken. It wasn't until glancing away from her, that he noticed the blood. There was a trial of it. Leading from the shattered cabinet. Glancing around he noticed it went around the table. Blocking his view was the tablecloth. Hurrying around the table, he found her. Her eyes were closed. A wound to her shoulder explained the blood. She was shivering badly, from shock. There was blood covering her arm too, and one could see part of the bone sticking out. Moving quickly he rummaged through the kitchen until he came across towels. Quickly he wrapped her arm and got her into somewhat of a sitting position. He sat behind her and held the towel in front. Her weight against him helped hold the other towel to her back. Quickly he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number.
(Nikkylia, who is know as 'Nick', is fighting for her life in surgery...)
It was a couple hours before Connor knew anything else. Connor called Angel and his father came. They managed to get her back to the hotel without being seen. There was a sewer entrance right under the old woman's home. Angel used that to get in and to help get her out of there. They got her into the hotel and found Wesley there. Wesley took her to the hospital. He admitted her as his younger sister. They rushed her off to surgery and x-rays. When the doctor came back, he said she was doing fine. A little bit of blood loss, they had to patch up her shoulder and cast her arm. Other words, she was pretty lucky. Wesley also talked the doctor into releasing her. He agreed as long as she got plenty of sleep. Connor thanked Wesley before he and Angel left the hospital. It was nearing one in the morning when they finally arrived home. Connor stumbled up the stairs and put her to bed. He pulled off his shoes and turned off the lights. He fell asleep on the other side of the bed, when he heard the slow, constant sound of her breathing.
When he woke up, she was still sleeping. He quickly got out of bed and went into the room across the hall. That was his room. He locked the door before stripping to take a shower. After the ten minutes of bliss, he was out and changed. He checked on her once more before going down the steps. He found Wesley talking to Angel while Cordy was answering the phones. They stopped talking when he walked in. Wesley quickly excused himself, while Fred said she had to run to the powered room. Angel quickly produced a cup of coffee and handed it to his blurry-eyed son. Connor took the cup and muttered a thank you before taking his first few sips of bliss. The two were quiet for a few more minutes. Angel wanted Connor to have time to wake up. When he thought it was safe, he asked about the girl.
"How is she Connor?"
Connor ran a hand through his hair. He had little or no sleep the pervious night, or morning whichever way you look at it. He slept next to her, listening to her breathing, trying to convince himself what happened was a dream. When he woke, it proved that what he thought happened, did happen. His clothes were changed, for the ones he came home in were full of her blood. He shuddered at that thought. "She needed five pints of blood, the bullet when clearly through her lower shoulder, and her arm and wrist were broken in a total of four places. How would you be?"
"Sorry I asked." Angel made a move for the door when Connor spoke up.
"No, I'm sorry." He turned to face his father. "She would have been fine if I made sure she didn't leave. Now because of me, she's fighting for her life. Because of me father." At first it was just a tear or two coming down his cheeks. He closed his eyes and let the others come. Angel looked at Connor, at his son. Without questions or answers, he embraced him. His sobs filled the entrance of the old hotel. Angel felt for the first time in that 'short' time he lost his son, he finally got him back.
(Slipping into the house...)
Hurrying she opened the door and shut it behind her. Checking to see if there were people waiting, she pushed her way through the beaded doorway and entered a candlelit room. Her eyes adjusted to the dime light. She saw the old woman; her back turned to her. The old woman was fragile. She took one step forwards before the voice spoke along with the jingle of bells. "Nikkylia, come and sit down my child."
Hurrying over she pulled the chair out which was facing hers. She glanced at the old woman's profile in the candlelight. She saw a hint of a smirk. "Thank you Katrina. I'm in trouble."
"I know my child, even though it has been some time."
"I know, I meant to come sooner but-"
"Don't worry my child, you come when you can." Extending her hands, she gripped the young woman's. "I know they hunt you. They won't stop until you're found and dead. You and I understand why. There is hope, a young man. Dark hair, fair eyes and complexion. He is strong, and will help you. You my child must learn to trust again. That is the only way to survive. He is concerned for you, even now. Searching is what he is doing. Remember Nikkylia, he is persistent and will not fail. Avoiding him by running will only get you injured."
"Katrina, I don't think I can do that."
Flipping her hand over to see her palm she shook her head. "You have no choice. Find him, my child. If you don't, when he finds you there wont be anything left." Glancing at her palm she traced the lifeline. "You had many close calls. Another will come soon. Open your heart and trust him. That is the only way." Turning her palm over she glanced into the girl's eyes. "Now have some tea, eat, and you can change out of those clothes and into some of your own."
"Thank you Katrina. What would I do without you?" leaning down she kissed the old woman's cheek.
"You couldn't. Now go."
Leaving the old woman, she went into the adjoining kitchen. Filling the water pot before she went into her spare room. Katrina knew her after the accident. She then kept clothes ready for her whenever she needed them. Opening the dresser, she pulled out jeans and a blue long sleeved top. Pulling them on, she found a dark sweater. Ignoring her scars she pulled her shoes on. Hearing the whistling of the pot, she hurried out. Pouring two cups, she walked back into the reading room.
"I left yours plain like you like it. I hope you didn't-" she stopped mid sentence and dropped the cups. Towering over the small gypsy woman was a vampire Nick knew all too well. She barely noticed the scalding temperature when it spattered on her legs. The hot liquid pooled over her feet. Her breathing condensed and shortened. Shaking her head, she moved backwards. She began to mutter something under her breath when suddenly she heard a short ring out. Something slammed into left shoulder and sent her backwards into the cabinet. Her arms tried to keep balance as she hit, the glass exploding on contact. Her balance was shot to hell as she hit the ground with a thud.
"Any last words old hag?" he asked Katrina. His hand wrapped around her neck and he waited for her to say something.
"Remember what I told you Nikkylia. I will-" before she could finish, he snapped her neck cleanly into two. Tossing her frail body across the room, he looked at her. Smiling he walked to her. Nick struggled up onto her arms. There was blood gushing down her left side and it hurt like Hades. Bits of glass were biting into her skin. He quickly grabbed her head and pulled back, exposing her neck.
"Any last words?" his voice was smug and filled with triumph.
"Yes, go to hell." She spat directly into his face. His face began quickly distorted with anger. Before he did anything, he wiped the saliva from his face. As he kept his right hand in her hair, he grabbed her forearm with the other. Quickly snapping it. The pain almost pushed her over, but his face kept her there.
"Bad Nikkylia. I would have gone easy on you. I would have granted you peace. But atlas, you leave me with no choice but to leave you here to die." Head bunting her he let his grip go. "I will miss our get togethers, really. Don't take too long to die Nikkylia." He was almost to the basement door when he turned around and smiled. "Do give your great-great-great grandmother my regards." Blowing a kiss he disappeared down the steps.
She knew he had won. She was dying and there was no one to help her this time. Her luck, which had held, finally ran out. Her chest and arm were on fire. She tried not to jolt them as she used her feet to move her a few feet away from all the glass. When she reached the carpet, she moved her good hand over to the arrow. In one swift movement, she pulled it free. A small sob escaped her throat as she tossed it to the side. As she shifted her head, she saw the trail of blood she left from where she moved. Her hand came in contact with the small clear globe. It must have been knocked on the ground when Dmitrij jumped Katrina. With all her power she threw it in the general area of the window.
(Just as the globe pushed it's self through the window...)
The sound of glass breaking was what pulled him out of his scouting. Glancing back at the house, he knew something was wrong. Running, he kicked the doors open and rushed into the house. He saw a body lying there through the beaded door. Carefully he pushed his way through. He saw the old woman; it was obvious she'd been killed. Her neck was broken. It wasn't until glancing away from her, that he noticed the blood. There was a trial of it. Leading from the shattered cabinet. Glancing around he noticed it went around the table. Blocking his view was the tablecloth. Hurrying around the table, he found her. Her eyes were closed. A wound to her shoulder explained the blood. She was shivering badly, from shock. There was blood covering her arm too, and one could see part of the bone sticking out. Moving quickly he rummaged through the kitchen until he came across towels. Quickly he wrapped her arm and got her into somewhat of a sitting position. He sat behind her and held the towel in front. Her weight against him helped hold the other towel to her back. Quickly he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number.
(Nikkylia, who is know as 'Nick', is fighting for her life in surgery...)
It was a couple hours before Connor knew anything else. Connor called Angel and his father came. They managed to get her back to the hotel without being seen. There was a sewer entrance right under the old woman's home. Angel used that to get in and to help get her out of there. They got her into the hotel and found Wesley there. Wesley took her to the hospital. He admitted her as his younger sister. They rushed her off to surgery and x-rays. When the doctor came back, he said she was doing fine. A little bit of blood loss, they had to patch up her shoulder and cast her arm. Other words, she was pretty lucky. Wesley also talked the doctor into releasing her. He agreed as long as she got plenty of sleep. Connor thanked Wesley before he and Angel left the hospital. It was nearing one in the morning when they finally arrived home. Connor stumbled up the stairs and put her to bed. He pulled off his shoes and turned off the lights. He fell asleep on the other side of the bed, when he heard the slow, constant sound of her breathing.
When he woke up, she was still sleeping. He quickly got out of bed and went into the room across the hall. That was his room. He locked the door before stripping to take a shower. After the ten minutes of bliss, he was out and changed. He checked on her once more before going down the steps. He found Wesley talking to Angel while Cordy was answering the phones. They stopped talking when he walked in. Wesley quickly excused himself, while Fred said she had to run to the powered room. Angel quickly produced a cup of coffee and handed it to his blurry-eyed son. Connor took the cup and muttered a thank you before taking his first few sips of bliss. The two were quiet for a few more minutes. Angel wanted Connor to have time to wake up. When he thought it was safe, he asked about the girl.
"How is she Connor?"
Connor ran a hand through his hair. He had little or no sleep the pervious night, or morning whichever way you look at it. He slept next to her, listening to her breathing, trying to convince himself what happened was a dream. When he woke, it proved that what he thought happened, did happen. His clothes were changed, for the ones he came home in were full of her blood. He shuddered at that thought. "She needed five pints of blood, the bullet when clearly through her lower shoulder, and her arm and wrist were broken in a total of four places. How would you be?"
"Sorry I asked." Angel made a move for the door when Connor spoke up.
"No, I'm sorry." He turned to face his father. "She would have been fine if I made sure she didn't leave. Now because of me, she's fighting for her life. Because of me father." At first it was just a tear or two coming down his cheeks. He closed his eyes and let the others come. Angel looked at Connor, at his son. Without questions or answers, he embraced him. His sobs filled the entrance of the old hotel. Angel felt for the first time in that 'short' time he lost his son, he finally got him back.