Disclaimer: see chapter 1
Author's notes: for the Lindsey-lovers - the guy's worked his way into this story in a rather tenacious manner, and you will be seeing quite a lot of him in upcoming chapters.
"I really don't think you should be here," Angel said, glancing down at Connor. "Don't you have classes tomorrow?"
"It's eleven o' clock, Dad," Connor argued. "This concerns me. Though I can't see why any lawyer should be at work at eleven at night."
"This," said Angel, looking up at the brightly lit concrete building they were standing in front of, "is not an ordinary law firm. Okay. Stick with me, don't get scared."
Connor nodded, and followed his father inside the building.
Angel ignored the security guards who began to hurry towards them as soon as they entered the lobby of Wolfram and Hart, and they were in the lift and going upwards before any of the uniformed men reached them. On the tenth floor Connor hurried after his father down a corridor and through a door into a huge office. Behind a desk, close to a large window looking out on to the lights of Los Angeles, sat a woman dressed in a smart tailored suit, her brown hair pinned up at the back of her head. Connor thought she must be in her early fifties, but that she still showed the elegance of her youth. She looked up as they entered, and put her phone down.
"Angel."
"Lilah," Angel said. "I don't suppose you're surprised to see me?"
The lawyer's eyes flicked to Connor, and she shook her head. "Not really."
"Good. Then you'll be prepared to answer my questions." He crossed to the desk, leaning over towards the woman. "Who sent the vampire after Connor, Lilah?"
She put her hand up to her neck and avoided eye contact with Angel. "It wasn't us."
"You expect me to believe that?" Angel asked. "We've known each other too long, Lilah - you can't fool me, not anymore."
"Could I ever?" She pushed her chair back. "We found the vampire, that's all. He owed us money."
"Shame about that. You won't be getting paid."
"You killed him?"
Angel smiled. "Connor killed him. Who wanted my son dead, Lilah?"
"Nobody wanted him dead," Lilah said. "They wanted him alive."
"Nice job," Connor muttered to himself.
Lilah started to emerge from behind her desk, but Angel intercepted her before she had taken two steps, standing so close he was almost touching her. She fidgeted, looking down at her shoes. Angel leant in and spoke softly. "Who, Lilah?"
Connor found himself shivering at the cold in his father's voice, and evidently Lilah felt it too as she grimaced.
"Who?" Angel repeated.
"Lindsey." She pushed him away with both her hands. "Lindsey McDonald, all right? God."
"Lindsey?" asked Angel.
"He thinks that he's not yours," Lilah said, waving a hand towards Connor. "He thinks he's his father."
Connor stood open-mouthed, staring at Angel and the lawyer. Angel's eyes narrowed, and for a moment Connor wondered if his father was about to lose control of his demon, but then he turned away from Lilah.
"Come on, Connor."
They did not speak in the car on the way back to the Hyperion. Connor kept glancing sideways at his father, and noticed that Angel's knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, his teeth gritted. At the hotel, Angel looked like he was about to disappear down to the basement, and Connor caught his arm.
"Dad. Dad!"
Angel shook off Connor's hand. "Not now."
"When, then?" Connor demanded. "Okay, maybe I shouldn't have come with you, but I did, and I heard. Who's Lindsey McDonald?"
Angel turned. "He was a lawyer there, once. He looked after Darla when they brought her back. He had a thing for her - obsession. I thought that was all."
"Now you think he slept with her?" Connor said, and his father swung around properly. "I'm eighteen," Connor added. "Not stupid, Dad."
Angel looked like he was about to protest, but then his stance relaxed and he nodded. "Yeah. She'd have done it, to control him, he was obsessed enough to let it happen."
"And?" Connor asked.
"Darla always said you were mine," his father said, intensely. "She'd been to shamans, asked advice from everyone she could think of. I knew her, I knew her better than anyone. Darla was a lot of things, but she didn't lie." He paused. "Brutal honesty always hurt so much more."
"Then I'm yours," Connor said. "Anyway, I'm not a fool. I know I'm not quite normal, and everyone says I look like you."
"I wish I could be sure of that," Angel said softly.
"Mirrors are overrated," returned Connor. "So what are you going to do?"
"Find Lindsey," Angel said.
"I know that, I mean now."
"Oh." Angel looked at his hands, and shrugged. "I was going to find something to kill."
"I'll lock my bedroom door," Connor said.
Angel smiled, for a second. "Good. Don't worry about this, Connor."
"I'm not worried," Connor said, only lying a little bit. He grinned at his father. "Go on. I'll see you tomorrow evening, I guess."
His father nodded, and after selecting a sword from the weapons cabinet disappeared in the direction of the sewers. Connor went slowly upstairs, and into his room, locking the door behind him and checking the windows before undressing and climbing into bed. But he did not sleep immediately, instead lying awake wondering about this new name that had come into his life - Lindsey McDonald, obsessed with his mother.
* * *
He stood at the edge of the dance floor and watched them move in the patterns of the waltz, meeting each other's eyes to the exclusion of all the other dancers. They made a good couple, he decided, her blonde curls contrasting with his dark locks, tied back and just brushing the lace of his collar. All around were candles and a sweet scent of flowers. Connor smiled, and his parents turned towards him and smiled back before moving through the other dancers, who parted to let them pass.
"Our childe," Darla murmured, her voice low and pleasant.
Angel took his arm, and they walked together as a threesome into a new room - Connor recognised it, his father's bedroom in the Hyperion. There was glass on the floor and clothes strewn around.
"This was where you began," Angel said. Connor met his father's eyes, and stepped back as they turned to yellow. He looked around, wildly searching for his mother, but there was only a pile of dust on the floor. "You killed her!" Angel growled through fangs. "You killed her. You're no son of mine!" He bent towards Connor, teeth bared for the bite. Connor tried to find a stake, tried to defend himself, but the sharp prick of the bite came first. He screamed.
There was a crash, and he sat up in bed, sweaty and terrified.
"Connor!" His father stood in the doorway, wearing only a pair of black shorts and holding a short battle-axe. "What is it?"
Connor took a deep breath, and another, and managed to calm himself down. "Nightmare," he said. "Only a nightmare." He rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?"
"Six," his father said, lowering the axe. "I got in half an hour ago. What was the nightmare about?"
Connor pushed hair out of his eyes, and managed a smile. "I don't really remember," he said. "I don't remember."
Author's notes: for the Lindsey-lovers - the guy's worked his way into this story in a rather tenacious manner, and you will be seeing quite a lot of him in upcoming chapters.
"I really don't think you should be here," Angel said, glancing down at Connor. "Don't you have classes tomorrow?"
"It's eleven o' clock, Dad," Connor argued. "This concerns me. Though I can't see why any lawyer should be at work at eleven at night."
"This," said Angel, looking up at the brightly lit concrete building they were standing in front of, "is not an ordinary law firm. Okay. Stick with me, don't get scared."
Connor nodded, and followed his father inside the building.
Angel ignored the security guards who began to hurry towards them as soon as they entered the lobby of Wolfram and Hart, and they were in the lift and going upwards before any of the uniformed men reached them. On the tenth floor Connor hurried after his father down a corridor and through a door into a huge office. Behind a desk, close to a large window looking out on to the lights of Los Angeles, sat a woman dressed in a smart tailored suit, her brown hair pinned up at the back of her head. Connor thought she must be in her early fifties, but that she still showed the elegance of her youth. She looked up as they entered, and put her phone down.
"Angel."
"Lilah," Angel said. "I don't suppose you're surprised to see me?"
The lawyer's eyes flicked to Connor, and she shook her head. "Not really."
"Good. Then you'll be prepared to answer my questions." He crossed to the desk, leaning over towards the woman. "Who sent the vampire after Connor, Lilah?"
She put her hand up to her neck and avoided eye contact with Angel. "It wasn't us."
"You expect me to believe that?" Angel asked. "We've known each other too long, Lilah - you can't fool me, not anymore."
"Could I ever?" She pushed her chair back. "We found the vampire, that's all. He owed us money."
"Shame about that. You won't be getting paid."
"You killed him?"
Angel smiled. "Connor killed him. Who wanted my son dead, Lilah?"
"Nobody wanted him dead," Lilah said. "They wanted him alive."
"Nice job," Connor muttered to himself.
Lilah started to emerge from behind her desk, but Angel intercepted her before she had taken two steps, standing so close he was almost touching her. She fidgeted, looking down at her shoes. Angel leant in and spoke softly. "Who, Lilah?"
Connor found himself shivering at the cold in his father's voice, and evidently Lilah felt it too as she grimaced.
"Who?" Angel repeated.
"Lindsey." She pushed him away with both her hands. "Lindsey McDonald, all right? God."
"Lindsey?" asked Angel.
"He thinks that he's not yours," Lilah said, waving a hand towards Connor. "He thinks he's his father."
Connor stood open-mouthed, staring at Angel and the lawyer. Angel's eyes narrowed, and for a moment Connor wondered if his father was about to lose control of his demon, but then he turned away from Lilah.
"Come on, Connor."
They did not speak in the car on the way back to the Hyperion. Connor kept glancing sideways at his father, and noticed that Angel's knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, his teeth gritted. At the hotel, Angel looked like he was about to disappear down to the basement, and Connor caught his arm.
"Dad. Dad!"
Angel shook off Connor's hand. "Not now."
"When, then?" Connor demanded. "Okay, maybe I shouldn't have come with you, but I did, and I heard. Who's Lindsey McDonald?"
Angel turned. "He was a lawyer there, once. He looked after Darla when they brought her back. He had a thing for her - obsession. I thought that was all."
"Now you think he slept with her?" Connor said, and his father swung around properly. "I'm eighteen," Connor added. "Not stupid, Dad."
Angel looked like he was about to protest, but then his stance relaxed and he nodded. "Yeah. She'd have done it, to control him, he was obsessed enough to let it happen."
"And?" Connor asked.
"Darla always said you were mine," his father said, intensely. "She'd been to shamans, asked advice from everyone she could think of. I knew her, I knew her better than anyone. Darla was a lot of things, but she didn't lie." He paused. "Brutal honesty always hurt so much more."
"Then I'm yours," Connor said. "Anyway, I'm not a fool. I know I'm not quite normal, and everyone says I look like you."
"I wish I could be sure of that," Angel said softly.
"Mirrors are overrated," returned Connor. "So what are you going to do?"
"Find Lindsey," Angel said.
"I know that, I mean now."
"Oh." Angel looked at his hands, and shrugged. "I was going to find something to kill."
"I'll lock my bedroom door," Connor said.
Angel smiled, for a second. "Good. Don't worry about this, Connor."
"I'm not worried," Connor said, only lying a little bit. He grinned at his father. "Go on. I'll see you tomorrow evening, I guess."
His father nodded, and after selecting a sword from the weapons cabinet disappeared in the direction of the sewers. Connor went slowly upstairs, and into his room, locking the door behind him and checking the windows before undressing and climbing into bed. But he did not sleep immediately, instead lying awake wondering about this new name that had come into his life - Lindsey McDonald, obsessed with his mother.
* * *
He stood at the edge of the dance floor and watched them move in the patterns of the waltz, meeting each other's eyes to the exclusion of all the other dancers. They made a good couple, he decided, her blonde curls contrasting with his dark locks, tied back and just brushing the lace of his collar. All around were candles and a sweet scent of flowers. Connor smiled, and his parents turned towards him and smiled back before moving through the other dancers, who parted to let them pass.
"Our childe," Darla murmured, her voice low and pleasant.
Angel took his arm, and they walked together as a threesome into a new room - Connor recognised it, his father's bedroom in the Hyperion. There was glass on the floor and clothes strewn around.
"This was where you began," Angel said. Connor met his father's eyes, and stepped back as they turned to yellow. He looked around, wildly searching for his mother, but there was only a pile of dust on the floor. "You killed her!" Angel growled through fangs. "You killed her. You're no son of mine!" He bent towards Connor, teeth bared for the bite. Connor tried to find a stake, tried to defend himself, but the sharp prick of the bite came first. He screamed.
There was a crash, and he sat up in bed, sweaty and terrified.
"Connor!" His father stood in the doorway, wearing only a pair of black shorts and holding a short battle-axe. "What is it?"
Connor took a deep breath, and another, and managed to calm himself down. "Nightmare," he said. "Only a nightmare." He rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?"
"Six," his father said, lowering the axe. "I got in half an hour ago. What was the nightmare about?"
Connor pushed hair out of his eyes, and managed a smile. "I don't really remember," he said. "I don't remember."