Chapter 2
Cordelia walked down the street, clutching the shopping bag close to her. She may not remember anything, like her mother's middle name or her first date or even her own birthday; but she did know one thing, shopping made it better. It was an instinct really; kind of like on those nature shows where the newborn Siberian tiger knows to rut around blindly until it finds its mother's milk. Something inside her just knew that shopping was her drug of choice and, once she tried on a couple of outfits or a new pair of shoes, she would feel better about not knowing anything.
Not that she had a lot of money to spend. The other Cordelia, the one from before, had been able to live rather comfortably, but something inside her said she had been used to much better…accommodations in life. If those yearbooks she found were any indication, she had at one time been the big, rich bitch on campus.
By the way the others acted around her, that was hard to imagine. They were all acting like she was some kind of saint or something. She didn't feel like a saint. Then, what does a saint feel like? All saintly she supposed.
Maybe she should got back to this Sunnydale place, talk to the people there. From what she gathered, she had grown up there; surely they would be able to fill in the blanks more than these people. Angel and his people might hold bits of her past, but childhood friends would be able to fill in more of the blanks than them.
Besides, what kind of name is Angel for a guy? Angel is a girl's name. Makes it sound like he's gay or something. God, it'd be such a shame for all womankind if he were. Sure, he used a bit too much hair gel for her taste, but she could persuade herself to look past that.
Of course, it was harder to look past that whole unholy dead thing. Sure, he was a souled vampire, but, hello, he was still a vampire. A blood sucking fiend from beyond the grave. That was definitely harder to get over.
Cordy paused when she found herself standing in front of the large hotel that she had fled from a few nights before. Her autopilot must be off, cause she knew she was on her way home instead of here. This was the last place she wanted to be, where the liars were. She knew that they were only trying to protect her, but lying was not something she tolerated. At least, she didn't think she did.
She turned around to leave and found a young girl standing behind her. Cordy jumped in surprise, causing the child to do the same. The girl was young, maybe Connor's age or a little younger. Long brown hair, that looked as if it hadn't been brushed in weeks, flowed around her face, as if trying to hide who she was. Something about the girl seemed familiar, like she should know her but she doesn't. Surprise, surprise, Cordy doesn't remember someone.
"Um, can I…help you?" Cordelia asked, the words flowing out of her mouth in a strange smooth motion, like she was used to speaking them often.
"Depends," the teenager said in an almost defiant, yet slightly crazed, tone. "I'm looking for a soul. But I got lost along the way."
Cordy drew in her bottom lip, regretting having asked an obviously less than all there person if they needed help. The teen seemed to be almost dancing while standing in one spot, alternating between looking up at the amnesiac woman and down at the ground.
"So, you're lost?" Cordy asked, shifting the bag in front of her as if it might offer some protection from the girl if she should attack.
With an unladylike snort that quickly turned into an insane giggle, the girl said, "That's what I'm told. I was told you could help me. You can help me find a soul."
Panic started to set in. She couldn't handle a crazy, stalkery person right now, and this girl seemed the type. "Try-" Cordelia nearly tripped when her heels slipped into a crack in the sidewalk, but she quickly recovered. "Try inside. They're the detective agency."
The brown-haired girl looked at her strange, like she hadn't understood a word she had just said. When Cordy turned to bolt, the girl's hand shot out and wrapped around her arm.
"But you were the higher being," she pointed out as if that should mean something. "They said it would be you to help me."
Cordelia was torn between screaming for help and trying out those cool moves like she had used on those lawyers the other night. On the one hand, she didn't want to hurt the kid who obviously needed help; but on the other, this girl was obviously not going to take no for an answer.
"Let her go," a voice said firmly from behind the teenager.
The two women looked up and found Connor standing there, a deep frown etched on his face. His eyes were hard on the young girl that was holding on to Cordy, but the girl didn't seem surprised or scared by him. In fact, her grin just grew as she seemed to forget about Cordelia and focus in on him.
"The Miracle Child," she stated plainly.
The boy's brow furrowed at her knowledge. He looked up to the older woman for answers of how this girl could possible know that, but Cordy could only shrug her shoulders dumbly.
The girl's face fell and she looked as if she might start bawling right then and there. "I'm not crazy," she told them with large tears flowing down her cheeks. "But I do need your help. Please, help me."
**********
"-and according to scientists, this past summer's drought has devastated crops all across the United States. That means the prices of wheat and corn will sky rocket over the next several months," the news man reported grimly.
The camera switched over to a passive looking woman. "In Health Watch tonight, doctors are warning that the flu season is upon and is shaping up to be a bad year."
Giles switched off the television, having only been half watching it anyway, and went back to the large text in front of him. Ever since Willow had returned to Sunnydale, he had found that he had quite a lot of free time on his hands. The year before, he had gotten used to actually not having to do anything, but, now that he'd had 'a project' all summer, he found himself wishing for anything to do.
Out of sheer boredom, he had even offered his services to the Watcher Council to index their collection of Watcher Diaries. They had turned him down, but, thankfully, Aimee had found him something to do. She was the leader of the coven that had helped him with Willow, and she had put him to work translating some old scrolls that the coven had come in possession of recently. It was tedious, tiring, thankless work, and he loved every moment of it. This put the Watcher back in his element, which he had not realized how much he missed until now. So much for the idea that he hated this kind of work.
So far, the scrolls had not revealed any new information that hadn't been foretold in countless other text before them. Yes, it had its own variation like all prophesies, but it was basically the same thing. Still, he wasn't complaining. He had long ago learned that no news was good news.
Giles finished with another paragraph, but paused at the next words. The text suddenly changed over from a mixture of Latin and Greek to what appeared to be almost Babylonian. That was certainly odd. With a shrug, he abandoned the text that he had been using to translate the scrolls, and went to retrieve another book to help him with the rest. Maybe something interesting will come of this.
**********
Lilah stood in front of the two way mirror, watching as the psychics and scientists worked together to try and figure out exactly what they had pulled out of the Host's head from a few nights before. So far, they'd had little luck in translating the mess, the best they'd come up so far was bits and pieces of a prophecy about a famine that would plague the land. Of course, then the scientist who had figured it out's head exploded, and the papers he had written the prophecy on had spontaneously combusted. That did little to help them.
She couldn't shake the feeling that if Angel and his group had the information that they would be able to figure it out. Scratch that, she was positive that they would, the PTB would be sure that their golden boy would be able to stop their own apocalypse, they always did. It was amusing to think that those stupid powers were the ones that had fated the world to end, but when it came down to it, they always sent someone to stop it. Guess they aren't quite ready to give up on man just yet.
Yes, she could just see Angel Investigations, sitting around with books sprawled open in front of them, paper spread about as they compared notes. It would look more like a giant college study session than research on how to stop the world from being obliterated again.
Angel would have some old leather bound edition in his hands as he paced around the lobby of the hotel; probably going on and on about how they needed to keep searching, that there had to be something they were missing. He was not one to give up, no matter how hopeless the situation seemed. Lilah admired his obsessive ness…stubbornness when it came to get things that he wanted. He would make one hell of a lawyer with that quality.
That street punk of theirs, Gunn, would no doubt have no idea what he was reading, but would pretend like he did so the other wouldn't think he was stupid. Opps, too late, they already think he is. Guy just couldn't seem to get it through his incredibly shiny head that he was muscle, a hired gun. Surely they couldn't value what some ex-juvenile delinquent had to say. They couldn't be that dense could they?
Of course, if he did prove how dumb he was by actually speaking he would have that little chicken fried girlfriend of his to defend him. 'Oh, no, don't make fun of my boyfriend. He loves me even though I'm shaped like a stick and a freak Texan girl who got sucked into another dimension while I was studying quantum physics.' A quantum physics major from Texas? Now there was a laugh. Shouldn't she be off running her Daddy's ranch while she and Billy Ray wait for their little bundle of joy, Bobby Gene, to arrive?
The Host would be sitting on the couch, clutching some brightly colored drink while trying to be as practical and helpful as he could be. He'd probably make some smart ass remark before actually offering something usual for them to use.
And, if the situation was dire enough, they would bring in their big brain, Wesley; her pretty boy. She couldn't help but frown when she thought of him, mainly because he confused her beyond belief.
What had happened to them? It started out simple enough. She thought he might be useful, so she started to screw him so she could be able to use him. But now that she had, she felt badly. She didn't think that she could feel badly, she was a bad guy after all, but he sure had made her feel that way. Well, she would have to do something to make it up to him. Maybe she would buy him a sharp, shiny new weapon, or some ancient artifact that only she had access too. Yeah, that's what she would do. He'd like that.
Gavin slithered into the room quietly like only the lawyers at Wolfram and Hart were able to do. Now that she was in charge, her once rival co-worker had tried to change himself into her best boy, doing whatever she asked of him like a good little dog. She wasn't sure if it was because he was afraid of her after seeing what she had done to her own boss, or if it was because he was waiting to do the exact same thing to her. Lilah was willing to lay odds it was the later. What was worse, he'd probably do it in some lame ass way. Really, the boy had no finesse when it came to doing real evil.
"Have they found anything yet?" he asked, standing about a foot directly behind her.
"Do you see any brains decorating the wall?" she spat back dryly.
"The Board won't like this. They think too much time has already passed and that you should have a translation ready for them by now," Gavin informed her. Though she couldn't see him, she would swear that he was smirking at her. She turned around and caught him as he quickly suppressed the smile.
"Since when does the Board tell you anything?" she asked coolly. "You're still just a gofer."
"You have your friends, Lilah. I have mine."
The wavy brown-haired woman smirked slightly at the statement. "You, Gavin, don't know anyone."
From inside the lab where the scientists and psychics were working, a blood curdling scream was let out, drawing the lawyers' attention. Lilah quickly turned on her heels and saw one of the psychics clutching his head, stumbling back from on of the many sections they were working on. The others quickly backed away from him, having no idea what was going on, but knowing it must be something bad. The man screamed one last time, and then they watched as the back of his head popped like a party favor, coloring the white wall behind him in a splatter of red and gray.
Several scientists became sick, and when she turned away from the sight, she found that Gavin looked rather green himself.
"Get the information he just translated and send it up to my office," she ordered calmly as she started towards the door. Lilah paused on her way out and said over her shoulder, "Oh, and call maintenance and tell them I want that mess cleaned up immediately."
**********
Lorne watched as his friend tired to busy himself with mindless tasks that a trained chimp could do. Poor guy was going to drive himself crazy by trying not to think about thinking about Cordy and his 'all demons besides Cordelia are evil' son. Lorne still thought they should box the kid up and ship him over to England. He'd make one hell of a Watcher with that attitude.
"So? What do you think?"
Looking up from the colorful drink in his hand, Lorne found Angel standing proudly in front of the newly rearranged weapons cabinet. It had been the third time that day the soulful vampire had played with the placement of the weapons, and the green demon had no doubt that it wouldn't be the last.
"That you're doing your very best to stall from talking to our own little Prodigal Higher Being," Lorne answered dryly as he took a sip from his drink.
Angel groaned lowly to himself as he turned back towards the cabinet, not really feeling like discussing this again with the ex-lounge singer. "I meant about the cabinet."
Carefully placing the Martini glass on the front of the counter, Lorne said, "I know what you meant, Sugar Plum. Question is, do you?"
Angel looked at the weapons once more as he considered whether placing them from largest to smallest was actually a good idea or not. It did seem kind of clumsy to have to reach over the bigger weapons to get to the smaller. No, he'd change it again. Cordy wouldn't like it this way.
Frowning deeply, his eyes scanned over the other weapons before coming to rest on one of the swords. He remembered helping her learn some moves with that weapon and kind of considered it to be hers. Reaching in, he pulled the weapon out smoothly before turning back to Lorne.
"She doesn't trust me, remember," he said in the controlled, even voice he had perfected over the years, but a touch of hurt bled through. "She wants to stay with Connor."
Lorne took note of how Angel could no longer say his own son's name without a little bitterness to it. The kid had put him through so much and didn't even care that he hurt the people around him, including Cordy. Connor really was like his mother in that way. Guess he just proved that some traits are genetic.
Part of the demon wanted to be able to believe that the Omen Child had lied to Cordelia to get her to stay, knowing how much his father would hate that. But he couldn't tell Angel that because he knew it was a lie. Connor would have told her the god's honest truth because it would work to his advantage.
Angel had lied to her and got the others to lie to her. It might have seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but it really wasn't. All lying had done was tie a noose around Angel's own neck and sent the fair damsel in distress into the waiting arms of the black suit wearing, mustache having, just as willing to tie her to the train tracks if it hurts Angel villain of the piece. But Lorne couldn't tell his friend that. No, the only way to fix this is by talking, and, once again, neither one of them seemed willing to make the first move. Course, Cordy couldn't remember anything, so he'd just have to work on the overly stubborn vampire.
"Look, Sweet Potato, you need to talk to the girl. Explain to her why you did what you did," the green demon told him again as Angel walked behind the counter, placed the sword on top, and went looking for the polish.
"She doesn't want to talk to me right now," Angel told him defensively, before starting to polish the weapon. "She's still to upset too even look at me."
"Hello, Angel," a woman said calmly from the lobby door.
Both men looked up to find the very woman they had been discussing standing there, clutching a pair of shopping bags in front of her.
"Doesn't want to see you, huh?" Lorne said dryly in a low whisper.
"Cordelia," Angel in said in a low voice, staring at the former deity. She smiled almost shyly as he stumbled from behind the counter, still obliviously clutching the sword in his hand. "What-what are you doing here? Not that you need a reason, and I would actually be very happy if it's just a social call."
"Stop babbling and actually say something," the Host whispered to the vampire, covering his mouth with the martini glass so Cordelia couldn't see that he had said anything.
"Well, actually," the blonde woman said, glancing over her shoulder before moving out of the way.
Out from behind her, a young girl of about fifteen stepped inside. Her face was that of someone amazed as she looked around the hotel lobby like she had never seen a place so large or beautiful before. Her dark brown hair fell loose down her back, and looked as if it hadn't been taken care of for several days. And, judging by the smell that he was picking up even from where he stood, it might be a fair assessment that the last time she took care of her hair had been the last time she had taken a bath as well.
Behind her, Connor stood out in the court yard, not daring to come in right at the moment his father was armed. Angel couldn't help but frown when Cordy looked at the boy pleading him to come in with her. The teenager looked at his father once more before coming in with the girls, but he made sure he was right next to Cordelia. Angel wasn't sure if it was because the seer needed him, or it was because he knew that his father wouldn't like it.
"Wow, hey!" Angel heard Lorne exclaim from behind him. The vampire turned around to find that the young girl that had come with the other two studying the demon with a curiosity. Apparently she had reached out to touch his head that still bore the large slash that Wolfram and Heart had given him, but Lorne had stopped her before the fingers had connected. She frowned at him as the Host explained, "Sorry, Dumpling, but the old noggin is still kind of sore."
"They came for you," she said with sympathy. "They came for you because you knew about Mary and the maids. You knew, but don't anymore, not like me."
Angel spun around on his heels to a confused Connor and a bewildered Cordelia. "Who is she?"
"Phoebe Walker," the girl answered, as if the question had been directed at her. "But my friends call me Phe." She moved away from Lorne and walked over to the still opened weapons cabinet. Considering it for a moment, she then turned back to Angel and said, "You really should rearrange this. They're uncomfortable this way."
"Phoebe," Cordelia spoke up.
"Phe," she corrected.
"Alright, Phe, why don't you tell Angel and Lorne what you told me and Connor?"
"About you being the higher being or that he's the Miracle Child?" she asked off handedly as she grabbed a hunting knife out of the cabinet and began to examine it. "Because I think they know about both already."
"No, Phe," Cordy answered, trying to hold back her aggravation with the girl. "Tell them what you're looking for."
"I'm looking for a soul," the teenager told her like she already should know that. "I'm looking for the soul that will bring the child. They said you can help me, but you haven't done much of that so far."
"Whoa, wait a minute," Angel spoke up. "What is she talking about?"
"I have to find the soul that will bring the child," the girl repeated, her own aggravation showing through. "I can't see my sister until I find them. I can't protect her until they come."
The others exchanged a look, none of them sure whether they should dismiss this obviously disturbed girl as a lunatic, or take her on as their latest case. There were things that she was saying that made it seem like she might actually know something about what Lorne had known, but she spoke in that strange way that mimicked Drusilla. Angel couldn't help but wonder if maybe that she was like Drusilla, being able to see things that others couldn't. She had to be. It was the only thing that made sense.
Her aggravation suddenly switched to desperation and she looked as if she might start crying right then and there. "Please. We have to find them. I don't want her to die. I don't want everyone to die. But we will if we don't find them." She looked up at the others, who were all staring at her with a mixture odd fascination and dread for what she was about to say. "We'll all die by the pale rider's hand."
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***Okay, just to let you guys know, I've decided to up the rating just to be on the safe side. Also, I've reposted the first chapter with an add on to the AN. If you do not feel like going back and reading it, I'll go ahead and tell you here that this story has taken on more of a life of its own and will be dealing with more religious themes then I expected when I first started it. I just wanted to tell you now so when we get about half way through it people don't start e-mailing about not being warned before hand, so, consider this your warning.***