Santa Ana

Penn had paid a brief visit to Los Angeles and was
surprised to learn that Spike was staying with Angel
and the two had apparently become friendly again. It
didn't affect his plans, though. He was still going to
do what he had always intended, with one small addition.

Now that he had established contact with his prey, Penn
moved ahead quickly. The next night, he was waiting
outside the diner as Anne finished her shift. From observing
her, he knew she always took a shortcut down a particular
alley on the way home to her shabby little apartment and
this time he was waiting for her in the alley.

She didn't struggle when he attacked her. It was like she
didn't care anymore. He stopped drinking when she fell
unconscious and then he carried her to his car. Either no one
saw them or no one cared. Penn drove the girl back to his
lair, chained her up, and selected a knife from his collection
of torture implements. He chopped off a lock of Anne's hair
and stuck it in an envelope along with his latest note.


Los Angeles

Two nights later, Angelus and Spike returned to the hotel in
high spirits. The young couple who had come to them for help
in ridding their new house of a ghost had been so stupid
they'd practically impaled themselves on Angelus and Spike's
waiting jaws. The vampires had left the ghost alone, though.

Coming back into the hotel, Angelus collected his mail as
usual and found only one envelope. It looked just like all
the others he had received from Penn and he tore it open
expecting to find just another note. Instead, along with the
note a lock of hair fell into his hand. "Buffy!" Angelus
snarled.

Spike looked around. "Where?"

"Penn has her." Angelus frantically scanned the note. "She's
the woman he's been stalking and he has her now."

"How do you know?"

"He sent me a lock of her hair." Angelus held it up. "And
listen to the play on words in his note -- I've captured her
now and I will slay her, he says. Slay her. Slayer. I have to
find them."

"How?" Spike asked skeptically, looking at the envelope.
"He doesn't exactly put a return address on his letters.
Besides, he's probably already killed her. The envelope is
postmarked yesterday."

A second later, Angelus had slammed Spike up against the wall
and was snarling in his face. "I WILL find them in time. Penn's
sure to be taking his time torturing her. I know she's still
alive. I would feel it if she died."

He stepped back and Spike said cautiously, "Not to burst
your bubble, but how will you find them?"

"By following the clues." Angelus thought furiously. "The letters
have all been postmarked Santa Ana, and Penn said she's been working
as a waitress in a diner. I should have figured it out before. The
last time Buffy ran away from home, she did the same thing, only she
ran to Los Angeles instead of Santa Ana." Angelus started for the
door. "Are you coming?"

Spike followed. "How long will it take to get to Santa Ana?"

"With me driving? Not long."



Santa Ana

Meanwhile, Penn was transferring Buffy back into his car
for another trip. As he settled her onto the back seat,
her eyes flickered open. She was still alive but barely.
Penn had to lean close to hear her whispered words. "I
thought you would make it quick."

"We're all mistaken sometimes." Penn finished situating her
and got behind the wheel. If his calculations were correct,
Angel had received his letter today and would be driving
toward Santa Ana the second dusk fell. So Penn was going
back to Los Angeles.

..........

An hour later, Angelus was gunning up and down the streets
of Santa Ana in a desperate search for Penn and Buffy. He
had already stopped at several diners to ask if anyone
meeting Buffy's description worked there and was told no
each time.

Spike braced himself in his seat as they slingshotted around
another curve. "If you don't know where to look, how do you
think we'll find them? Santa Ana's a pretty big place!"

"I can't give up." Angelus grimly drove on. Then, with no
warning, he slammed on the brakes. "Something's wrong."

Spike pushed himself up from the dashboard and gingerly
felt his forehead. "I could have told you that an hour
ago."

"No, something's wrong now. We're in the wrong place. We
have to go home." Angelus made a U-turn and roared back
toward Los Angeles. He didn't let up on the gas until
they were in front of the Hyperion again. Jumping out of
the car, Angelus ran inside and stopped dead once more.

The hotel lobby was dimly lit, and several vases full of
blood roses were scattered around the area. Classical
music played softly from a small radio set up on the
counter. "No!" Angelus ran upstairs and along the hall to
his bedroom.

Following closely, Spike could smell the heavy scent of
blood inside the room. He looked around Angelus and saw
Buffy, dressed in a white negligee, lying on the bed atop
the covers. Her face was covered in bruises, and a railroad
spike with blood welling around it jutted from her stomach.
If she still had a heartbeat, it was extremely faint.