Disclaimer: Blah blah blah, how many times do I have to say it? Not mine, so, sue me? Waste of time.

Feedback: I want to know what you think, cause I'm a caring person like that. If there's anything I can do to make your stay at the Amy hotel more pleasant, just let me know, and it will be taken care of. Probably.

OK, some kick ass coming up soon for all you action lovers out there, and don't worry, everyone gets a turn. Enjoy! :)

PART 17.

The sound of scraping metal and scattering shards of glass rang through the lobby with an urgency that no one would mistake. It's occupants, driven by instinct to cowering behind the relative safety barrier that was the counter, waited for the blessed silence that would signal the end of the attack. Mercifully, it came quickly, and each was able to snap back their initial terror and replace it with hardened resolve, reasserting the pretence that such understandable reactions were beyond them, and that loud noises and sudden violence couldn't faze them. This, of course, was far from the truth.

Angel, being somewhat different from his human friends and a little less prone to the effects of animal fear, was the first to recover, and recognised it as his duty as the resident champion to shield the others for their protection and confront the intruding enemy. Either that, or the adrenaline rush was making him feel confident.

Wrenching Cordelia's hands away from her ears, Angel instructed her to usher the others through the office and either wait for some sort of signal, or make a break for it, depending on what the situation called for. Eager to put distance between herself and the seemingly explosive lobby entrance, Cordelia nodded her consent, turning and pushing her three male counterparts from their position on the floor.

Watching them scuttle across the floor like ants, Angel only revealed himself when he was satisfied that they were out of harms way. This could just be some random and isolated event, like maybe a car accidentally crashing into the front of the hotel, but Angel suspected otherwise. He wasn't about to give Wolfram and Hart the benefit of the doubt.

Slowly rising in case of another explosion that might require him to return to his undignified acquaintance with the dust bunnies collecting under the shelving, Angel cautiously scanned the scene, reminding himself to have a talk with Cordelia about the merits of cleaning everywhere, even if it meant having to inconveniently clean where the human eye usually doesn't notice.

Had he been well familiarised with modern popular culture, Angel may have described what he saw as Hannibal Lecter-ish. As it was, he just thought it was insanely creepy.

He came eye to eye with a monstrously large demon, standing rigidly upright in the centre of the lobby, as if waiting for him to appear. It studied the vampire calmly, with out so much as a twitch of movement on it's part.

Angel couldn't stop the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he looked this thing over, weaponry and all. It didn't need to be wielding vicious looking medieval artefacts to be threatening. The incredibly long and thick talons protruding from each finger did that for it. And as if to add insult to injury, it had twelve fingers, six on each hand. It also sported knife-like fangs that dripped when they were bared, reminding Angel of some weird alien movie he had glimpsed the others watching at some point. At least it didn't have horns. That would have been too much.

The leathery black skin looked hard to pierce, and judging from it's build and giant stance, it looked annoyingly strong. A testament to that strength lay in the form of the long metal bench, currently resting across to his right, no doubt responsible for the shattered wreck that remained where the doors should have been.

Consciously trying not to gulp, Angel looked the thing coldly in the eye, waiting for something to happen. Preferably, he would get a clue as to how to kill this thing, but realistically, he wanted it to make the first move. If it was just going to walk off and leave them be, that was just fine by him.

"Where is the knowing one?" it asked in the deepest voice Angel had ever heard, struggling to pronounce words through it's mouthful of needles.

So much for that theory.

But good, at least it's stupid. That at least gave them a chance. If it was as sluggish of foot as it was of brain, they could dodge it until they found a way of de-clawing it, or it died of old age.

"Like I'm just going to hand him over to you", Angel sneered. "If you want Wesley, you're going to have to get through me." So this was Wolfram and Hart, back for more. He'd guessed as much.

The creature moved it's gaze, focusing on something behind Angel himself, towards the office. Thinking that someone must have disobeyed him and come out to join the fight, Angel turned to look, preparing to seriously reprimand whoever it was.

Finding no one there after all, Angel realised his mistake. Spinning back around, he was left with only an empty lobby to greet him.

"That's not good", he said out loud, hurrying round to the other side of the counter in the hopes of spotting the route of the escaped monster. Unless his vampire senses deceived him, the demon was still here…somewhere. And either it stank, a lot, or it wasn't alone. A cold trickle ran down his back, and the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up to alert him of the wrongness they felt. Oh yeah, something was wrong all right. Was he going mad? 'Cause he could have sworn he just heard a rustle…

Something Angel couldn't see backhanded him across the face, sending him staggering into the weapons cabinet and falling down in surprise. Blinking in confusion at the apparently empty space, he got an idea, and began scrabbling around on the floor, scooping up handfuls of glass fragments.

Not really sure if he wanted it to work or not, he threw the bead sized pieces back the way he had come, staring in horror as they bounced back from countless invisible objects instead of spreading out harmlessly on the floor opposite.

"Oh great", he moaned, "invisible too? This just isn't fair."

Taking advantage of his one bit of good fortune, Angel yanked open the doors of his much loved arsenal storage facility, pulling out his favourite long sword for battle. If all else fails, at least he had a good chance of hitting something when he started swinging this thing around.

Wasting no time and wanting to get straight into the killing part of the fight, Angel raised his sword, ready for action. Unfortunately for him, the other participants had better ideas. The office door the others had crawled through imploded, no doubt caused by one of the demons in an attempt to flush their prey out. Lindsey in the lead, the others poured out of the second door and straight into the lobby, looking around wildly for any sign of their attackers.

Finding none and looking to Angel in confusion, they each lowered their weapons; the small hurling axes stored in the office for just such an emergency occasion. They had played right into the demon's hands. Angel didn't have time to shout a warning as the others ran his way, seeing his injuries and asking for explanations.

All four tripped at once, landing face first in a pile on the floor, with Cordelia squashed at the bottom and Lindsey sprawled out on top.

"Ow!" Cordelia screamed in protest, "Get off of me! What's the matter with you?!"

No one had chance to reply. Scrambling to get up, Lindsey was lifted by his neck, an invisible force responsible. Kicking and gasping, his feet dangling above the floor, Lindsey clutched at what felt like an arm holding him up. Angel ran forward, plunging his sword into where he assumed the demon to be, getting a satisfying squelch for his efforts. Lindsey was released and caught by Gunn before he tumbled to the ground.

"They're invisible!" Angel shouted as deep purple blood appeared in dripping pools on the floor.

"That would explain a lot", Wesley replied, stepping to Angel's side. "And when you say they…"

"I mean there's more than one of them, so run!"

Turning to do just that, everyone was helped on their way by a little demon-style propulsion. Angel was immediately knocked to the ground, him being the biggest threat of all, and he felt a weight like a ton of bricks bear down on him, stealing all the words from his mouth.

Cordelia was flung screaming back into the office, colliding with the desk and not getting up again. Gunn, seeing the attack on her, leapt forward in anger, flailing his axe in the hope of slicing the son of a bitch that was responsible. He had the weapon ripped out of his hands for his attempt, and he was pushed effortlessly to the side.

Then it was Lindsey's turn. He and Wesley backed away towards the counter, weapons in front and ready for use. It did them no good. As if he had been no heavier than a rag doll, Lindsey was lifted from his feet and sent flying through the air towards one of the yet unbroken windows framing the entrance. His breath stolen from him, he didn't have the choice of screaming. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and wait for the sharp glass pieces to start lacerating their way through his body as he crashed through, probably killing him when he landed on them wrongly.

They say your whole life flashes before your eyes before you die. Lindsey didn't know if that was true, but he found himself wondering as he hurtled through the air, feeling irrationally disappointed when he realised he would get no such saving grace. What he didn't realise was that it wasn't because the saying was false that he'd failed to get the distraction. It was because he wasn't going to die.

The momentum stopping suddenly, Lindsey carefully opened his eyes again, wondering if he had been spared the pain off his unpleasant death and was now on the other side. Instead, he came face to face with the still in tact glass pane, waiting for him to continue his journey through. If he didn't know better, he'd swear he was floating.

Wesley stood, rooted to the spot, a look of sheer panic on his face. Wow, he was never going to get used to seeing that happen. Another thing he needed to work on if this power thingy was going to be of any use at all. It had the annoying tendency to work when you least expected it to, which kept catching him by surprise. Damn magic.

He wasn't allowed long to worry about it though, and he got his share of the throwing and the landing and all the pain that came with it. Something punched him hard in the face, breaking his concentration, to Lindsey's misfortune, letting him plummet to the floor. The blow sent Wesley hurling across the counter and dislodged the axe from his hand. He rolled into Cordelia's desk, narrowly avoiding being impaled by his own weapon as it flew past his head and imbedded itself into the side of the computer monitor. Since it was always left on, the impact produced a small explosion, sparks flying out with the sizzling smoke. A stack of paper reports nearby caught on fire, and Wesley had to move away quickly to avoid being burnt himself.

This was not good at all. To all appearances, Gunn was fist fighting (and losing) with thin air, and Angel was being crushed by an invisible body wrestler. He had to do something. As it was, they were essentially fighting blind.

He forced his aching bones and bruised limbs to move, avoiding the razor sharp shards threatening to slice into his skin. Steadying himself on his knees for a moment, he looked around for an idea. There was never one just lying there when you needed it. Right now, he needed a big juicy one with a flashing neon sign saying 'idea here' and an arrow pointing at it. Oh well, he'd just have to make do with what his tired brain could churn out.

Small flakes of black and white ash snowed down on him, and a thin film of smoke curled its way around him in attempt to make him choke. He looked up at the burning pile and thought about extinguishing it before the rest of the hotel caught alight. That would do them no good at all. Then he remembered that even this old hotel had a sprinkler system, so that shouldn't be a problem.

He paused. Inspiration!

Leaping to his feet a little too fast, he clambered onto Cordelia's desk, a fist full of smouldering pages in one hand. Now, if he remembered rightly…ah ha! A small, out-dated smoke detector was fixed to the ceiling above him, just out of reach. Putting the other hand out to lean on the wall for support, he leant forward, introducing what little smoke he could to the contraption.

Nothing happened.

Damn it! Where's the over sensitive fire alarm when you need it? You know, the one that always goes off when you make toast, whether it's burnt to a crisp or not? The thing was just too old, like the rest of the hotel. Maybe he needed more smoke. He tried to force his body to bend more, getting the paper even closer to the detector and holding it there a long as his protesting muscles would allow. If it didn't go off soon, he'd either pull something vital or one of those see-through demons would discover his plan. This had to work! Everyone's lives depended on it!

Finally, when he thought that his body would give out altogether, the alarm went off, startling him with its sound. Slipping from his footing, Wesley lost his balance and fell forward, clattering to the ground. The old piping in the crumbling walls spluttered into life, groaning with age as water coursed through the system. The tiny sprinkler heads spat pathetically, raining down droplets in chugging blasts rather than the smooth covering intended. Decades worth of grime had clogged them up, and some refused to work altogether, resulting in a steady drip or trickle in certain places. But those that worked with satisfactory regularity produced the desired effect.

Each drop diverted from its natural course bounced and jumped from the invisible bodies of the demons, exposing their whereabouts to the human eye. Wesley struggled up from his heap on the floor to see the situation for himself. Angel was right; there were at least ten of the beasts. And they weren't small, either. Thankful for this small victory, Wesley got up to join the fight, retrieving a crossbow from the rather worse for wear cabinet and making his way towards an immobilised Angel.

What he hadn't realised in his relief was that the demons had stopped their attack, and had become a lot more vocal, if that's what you could call it. Deep rumbles resonated from their throats, and some thrashed their arms around against the torrent of water. They were screaming.

Before his very eyes, the invisible forms of the demons began to shimmer, and slowly, their true appearances were being revealed. Jet black and leathery, their thick hides became apparent first, then the various spikes and claws they were adorned with. After a few seconds, they took on a completely solid appearance and the shimmering stopped. Wesley hadn't expected this effect, but it was useful, none the less. What was more, they seemed to be in pain, like the water was physically harming them.

The creature pinning Angel to the ground rolled off, and the vampire staggered to his feet. The other demons writhed around, some falling to their knees with the pain. Wesley breathed a sigh of relief, realising that they finally had the upper hand.

Celebrating the victory would have proved to be premature, however, as he soon found out. The walls themselves began to creak, and ominous bubbling sounds emanated from the overhead pipes. The sprinklers began to pump out more air than water, hissing with the effort to keep functioning. Abruptly, they stopped working altogether, and nothing but drips emerged.

Wesley looked across and met Angel's eyes as realisation dawned. They were both thinking the same thing.

"Oh", was all he could think of to say as he watched each demon begin to pick itself up and turn their way.

Far from being pleased at that move and disadvantaged now that their invisibility had been wiped away, the demons growled menacingly and advanced. As tall as he was, this particular breed still managed to tower over Wesley with unbelievable height, muscular arms bulging unnaturally. The staring-in-awe done with, he raised his crossbow and fired a bolt, hoping to fell one by going for the neck.

His shot sailed true despite his bad eyesight, but the beast barely swayed, pulling it out and throwing it to the ground in disgust. The damn thing didn't even have the decency to bleed.

All of the demons were now seething with anger, practically roaring at the opposition as they circled and surrounded, boxing Angel, Gunn and Wesley in between the office and themselves. This was it, do or die.

Gunn yelled an incoherent battle cry and sprung forward, rolling smoothly past the demons on his side and snatching up his fallen weapon, coming to a stop on the other side, on his feet again. The slow-witted beasts turned in surprise at the move, not being swift enough to catch him before he got past. Angel took his chance.

Swinging the sword he had somehow managed to keep hold of through it all, he sliced his way through the air, aiming for the log of an arm in front of him. If stabbing them through the chest wouldn't kill them, then at least he could immobilise them by hacking off a limb or two. That plan worked until the blade met the creature's hide, bouncing off harmlessly and sending a reverberating shock down Angel's arms. Almost dropping the weapon with the pain, Angel backed off, looking to Wesley for help.

"How the hell do you kill this thing?" he shouted, having to yell over the din of the battle.

"I have no idea", Wesley replied, ducking a swipe from one of his own demons, "but, um, at a guess…I'd say water isn't a bad idea!" He ducked again, this time taking the opening to move away from being cornered.

He backed away and crossed the lobby, making his way towards Lindsey's still form, lying where he had fallen. After a quick glance to make sure he was still breathing, Wesley turned his attention back to the problem at hand. Some of the demons had turned to try to follow him, but were taking their time to avoid the puddles of water that had collected in certain depressions on the lobby floor. They certainly didn't like the ole' H2O. Not for the first time, Wesley wished that LA could be a little more like England. The trusty gloomy weather of the motherland would certainly come in handy right about now. 

Forcing his brain to yet again come up with something useful, he scanned around for something that might help win the day. What he finally rested his eyes on, however, turned out to be anything but helpful to the situation.

Staggering out of the office with her head in her hand, Cordelia made an appearance in the doorway.

"Angel?" she groaned, oblivious to the danger she had discovered and swaying slightly with the pain.

When she finally looked up, her eyes widened at the sight. Alerted to her presence, a couple of the demons broke away from the group fighting Angel and Gunn and trudged towards her, fangs bared.

Injured and weapon less, Cordelia was completely at the mercy of the beasts, and the look on her face said she knew it. Realising her stupidity for revealing herself far too late, she turned to run, punctuating her escape with an,

"Oh crap."

To be continued…