Where do we go from here: PROLOGUE

Chapter summary—a visitor comes to the Hyperion warning Wesley of a danger that is coming and Cordelia ponders over another move to continue her "evil plans."

"Is it cleaned up?" Angel asked quietly coming down the stairs. The lobby was deathly silent. Rain pattered for once outside but other than that, there was no other sound. Only Wesley was downstairs in the lobby, cleaning up the remains of the spell that Willow had cast earlier. The stones, candles and books had been left on the table after the excitement of Angel and Faith's return.

Wesley let himself clean it up. Both Willow and Faith were extremely tired and Angel had offered them a room in the Hyperion for when they left the next morning. "Not all of it," Wesley answered as he closed the books and put the stones back into the special Willow kept for them. "Won't be long. I'd have thought you'd be asleep by now after everything that's happened."

Angel smiled slightly. "You know, the whole creature of the night thing."

Wesley sighed. "Yes, sorry. I suppose my brain is slightly off balance at the moments. After effects of having worked so hard these past weeks are finally taking their toll…" He stopped and looked how Angel held back on the stairs, watching Wesley from a distance. "Angel, you don't need to stand there. I'm not afraid of you."

Angel shook his head. "I know. I'm just afraid. Of myself."

"As Angel you are completely harmless."

Angel shrugged. "Am I? God, I don't know. I just feel…like everyone is now judging me. I can see how they are all wary of me. Fred…I told her the first time, when I pretended I was Angel again that I wouldn't hurt her and it was all a lie. I could've killed her."

"Angelus could have killed her. But he didn't. Just be thankful for that. Now come down. You're not of any use standing up on the stairs watching me."

Angel came down and stood next to Wesley, watching him as he cleared up the counter until there was nothing left. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and silence returned to the office again. It seemed funny how two people, capable talking about almost anything had suddenly found nothing to say to each other. Angel had to admit, Wesley had changed over the last months. He didn't think Wesley was capable of half the things he had been during the time of Angelus.

"Were you afraid?" Angel asked and Wesley turned to him. "When Angelus was around…when he could have killed you, several times, and yet he didn't."

Wesley laughed bitterly. "It was my idea to let him out in the first place, Angel. I felt guilty at first and rather embarrassed that nothing good was coming out of it when you were in the cage. Then when you came out of the cage—I admit, I got frightened and very wary. But I thought, considering it was my idea to bring you out. And when you were going to kill me…" He turned around. "Maybe we shouldn't go into that."

Angel looked at him. "I know why you're acting like this, Wes. You're not afraid of me, that I can smell and sense on you. Is this about Li…"

"It has nothing to do with her," Wesley answered sharply.

"I think it does." Wesley began to walk away. "I didn't kill her, Wes." The other man stopped walking and turned around, a quizzical expression on his face. "I know what it looked like back there. I know I was…feeding off, Lilah but she was already dead when I was there. That much I know."

Wesley's eyebrows rose as a hope surged through him. Angel had been right; he was not scared of him. But he was worried about having to think that the man he was looking at was the one person who had killed another love in his life. All right, admittedly, Lilah was not a love. It had been an infatuation, a brief intoxication, but she didn't need to die and certainly not like that. Wesley bore the guilt of her death, even now. "So, if Angelus didn't kill her then who did…the Beast?"

Angel shrugged. "Quite possibly. It wouldn't surprise me although I don't know how he got in unnoticed. Any suggestions?"

Wesley shook his head. "Right now, I am too tired to think of any suggestions whatsoever. What I would like to, however, is get some sleep, something you should do, possibly. Even for a vampire you look worn out."

"Can't sleep," Angel muttered and Wesley looked at him again questioningly. "Burdens. I'm feeling the pain again…all that guilt of what I've done." He smiled slightly. "It's something that'll keep you awake at night." Wesley nodded in understanding. He could relate to some burdens. Obviously, they were not as deep and bad as Angel's but he had some difficult situations to deal with. That he understood. Angel did cross a thin line and he didn't want to push him over too fast. He smiled and began to turn around when the door opened.

Their first thoughts were that visitors should not been here. If there were, it usually meant trouble and at this point in time, trouble seemed to be very frequent. What with the coming apocalypse and goodness knows how many other horrors were preparing to stand in their way. As they turned round, though, a very much different sight awaited them, still, one they could have done without.

"Justine," Angel said after a few moments, taking in the sight of the woman, standing on the top of the stairs of the Hyperion. She looked back at them, wordlessly but still didn't make a move. To Wesley and Angel, she didn't seem that much different. Her strawberry blond hair was wet from the rain, as were her denim clothes but other than that, she looked fine. A few old cuts on her face were marks of battles but there were no fresh wounds. "What are you doing here?" Angel asked, trying not to sound too impolite, although the bitterness couldn't be helped.

"Believe me, I don't want to be here," she replied, coming down the stairs, glaring at Angel but deliberately avoiding Wes, scared of what he might say or do. "But when several bright lights start shining at you and suddenly all the vampires you're hunting magically turn to dust, I began to wonder."

"What, so you decided come down here and retell us of your travels," Wesley remarked sarcastically. "Oh, maybe you'd like to ask for our help in the process."

Angel looked over at him and shook his head. He had personal problems with Justine as well, as Wesley. She may have slit his throat and taken Conner, but it was his son that she had handed over to Holtz allowing them to disappear into another dimension. Yes, he had great reason to be angry with her, although, he didn't let it show as much as Wesley. "What's wrong, Justine. Why did you feel to come here?"

Justine sniffed from the cold outside and sat down on the banquet in the hotel lobby. Wesley walked over to the other side of the table not wanting to be anywhere near her but the stony expression remained.

"Two days ago I was down near the docks. I'd found a vampire nest there 'cause ever since I'd managed to break free—" She glared at Wesley—"I've still been hunting vampires. No matter how special you think you are, Angel, vampires do still deserve to be dusted…but anyway, I was down by the docks, taking out this nest. The odds didn't look good on my part and just as I thought things would go from bad to worse they literally disappeared as dust."

"And the sun hadn't come up?" Wesley asked.

Justine looked over at him. "Yeah, I took them out in full sunlight," she remarked sarcastically then returned to normal. "I don't know, it was weird…like spontaneous demon dusting or whatever the alternative is. They just disappeared and this weird light appears from nowhere at me. I thought I was in heaven or something."

"Then what?"

Justine laughed slightly. "Then what? This bit's better than the vampires dusting themselves. I suddenly get this full blown headache as a picture slideshow is forced through my head. That reminds me, do you have any aspirin."

Wesley and Angel looked at each other, the same thing crossing their minds. "A vision?" Angel asked out loud. "As in, it was like a warning. Something that was going to happen in the future?"

Justine nodded. "Yeah, something like that. It was horrible. It was all about death and destruction. I saw dead people everywhere and mystical forces. I'm not sure what it all means…"

"It means there's an apocalypse coming," Angel answered and Justine looked at him quizzically. "We had a few problems lately. All of them have been leading onto an apocalypse." He stopped, not wanting to release any more information. Justine just nodded silently and didn't say anything more but Angel gathered there was something she was now telling him. At the moment, it seemed that now was not the time to pressure her into anything that she didn't particularly want. "So what about the visions?"

"Excuse me? Visions?" asked Justine. "I didn't ask for this. I don't even know what it is!"

"It means you're a seer," Wesley answered, round the desk and informing her. "It means you are a messenger from the Powers That Be to lead Angel into the battles of good. You see the visions of people that need help and tell it to us and we go and deal with them."

Justine shook her head. "Screw you…again. I'm not being a messenger to a vampire with an unbeating heart of gold. I gave you my little message but if you expect me to sit here and be your little slave girl again, then you got another thing coming." She stomped towards the doorway. "Don't go looking for me. There is serious evil coming. I don't know why it's been given to me but I told you. Stop whatever's coming or else there won't be any good left in this world." She slammed the door behind her and walked off.

Angel sighed unsurprised by Justine's attitude then looked over at Wes. "That was brief. Did you keep her as a slave girl?"

"In a closet. With a bucket."

"The treatment didn't really work on her attitude."

Wes shrugged. "I wasn't teaching her about attitude. I needed her to find you all those months ago. She was well looked after, I assure you." He smiled at him and then turned serious. "The Powers That Be are certainly making their actions very vague. Why have they just erected another seer—another vision girl? What has happened to Cordelia?"

Angel looked blankly at Wes, even more confused. "I have no idea why the Powers have abandoned her. I don't even know if that means she still has the visions or we just have both of them. Or maybe Justine is a replacement?"

"Maybe this is her Redemption?" Wesley suggested. "There's too many possibilities. We'll dwell on them later. I'd like to go back to my apartment before any other interesting issues arise."

*  *  *  *  *

Cordy sat up in bed again, frowning. Time and time again, she thought about the plan she had failed to do. She couldn't believe that she hadn't killed Willow right there and then when she had come to renensoul Angelus. Now her pet beast was killed, the good vampire was back and her all her plans seemed to have sunk into the floor. It filled her with anger. She had tried so hard to prevent the meddling witch's powers and she could have defeated her, had Conner not distracted her.

Even her plans for Conner to kill Angelus had failed due to the Slayer. Cordy shook with anger and plunged her fists into the sheets hoping that she could burn a hole right through it. Who dared to thwart her plans, even though they were intentional? Cordy was still happy at the thought that she was still one step ahead of them. At least they still had no idea that she was the mastermind behind all of the work.

"Conner, it's fine!" she cried out to the bathroom. Conner came back out, closing the bathroom door behind him and still looking around. "God, for a teenager you sure do take a lot upon yourself. Stop fidgeting, it's making me nervous."

"I'm just making sure there's nothing in here. If that floaty head comes back, I'm gonna kill it." He drew out a sharp bladed sword, shining from tip to hilt. "The witch is still here and so is Faith, so we'll still be safe."

Cordy sunk further down into the covers. "Yes, safe. This whole hotel seems to be full of championing warriors. Angel, Willow, Faith…you."

"Are you saying that's bad?" Conner asked, turning around to look at her. "I'm only doing this to protect us and the baby. It's what it's all about isn't it? We need all the help we can get to make sure nothing gets into this hotel…or I'm just going to shred everything to pieces…"

Cordy smiled happily. "My sweet boy. I'm so glad that that you're taking up the responsibility."

"We need all the champions," Conner continued, setting down the sword and sitting in a chair. "And you wanted me to kill Angelus. He was already Angel when I got down there. Willow's spell had worked. And I got another beating by the slayer."

"Ignore them!" Cordelia snapped. "They're not all as strong as they look really. I thought I was right about Angelus but obviously not. Everybody is safe again and all that matters is protecting the baby. Don't worry, Conner, everything is going to be fine. You have nothing to worry about."

Conner stood up. "It's last midnight. I'm going off to kill some vampires."

Cordelia nodded. "All right, be careful!" she called as he walked out of the door. "I still need you." As the door closed behind him, she took out a knife and groaned in frustration. "Somehow, they are going to die. I don't know how but I can't have so many champion ruling over Las Vegas. One by one, they shall die, starting with the Witch and the Slayer."

*  *  *  *  *

One Year Ago…

Lindsey McDonald sat at a bar in Chicago. He'd left the hectic life of Wolfram and Hart to lead something more peaceful. His Evil Hand issues had led him to discover that Wolfram and Hart was probably not the best job for him. He was still too indecisive and did have the occasional ability to back away from his job and refer to the "good side," whichever that one was. It had taken him a long time to realize that Angel was right and a lot of sacrifices in the process—one of which being his hand.

"Can I have another?" he asked the bartender lazily as he watched the empty glass being filled with another beer. He didn't particularly want to be intoxicated but he didn't want to be particularly coherent either. Being on the borderline of sane and insane was good for him at the moment. That meant he didn't have to worry about life's little troubles.

Because at the moment, life's little troubles meant finding somewhere to stay at the moment. His cousin was trying to find him somewhere but at the moment there was no luck. He was sleeping at his cousins' apartment at the moment, hoping to move on at some point. Lindsey wondered if he was just going to travel around America for the rest of his life. He'd told Angel he was going to "explore his roots." Was that even an option any more?

"Bar's closing in about fifteen minutes," the bar tender told him. "You'll have to get on your way afterwards."

"Why?" Lindsey looked at his watch. "It's only ten to eleven."

Bar tender shrugged. "So? You look almost gone as it is and it ain't safe for people to be around after hours these days in the streets…especially not by themselves. You should get yourself a cab and head back to wherever you're staying. Don't talk home, no matter how far it is."

"Why?" Lindsey asked again.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Strange things are happening here. Things that no one has seen before. Strange deaths and markings…."

"Vampires?" Lindsey asked before he could stop the sentence from coming out of his mouth.

The bartender raised his eyebrows. "You know about it? You're one of the only few that does? I know myself because I dabble in the underworld a bit but other people, they're refusing to believe it. I've heard of a lot of deaths because of folks who go out and end up dead the next day because they got bit by a vampire. Some poor people were even turned."

"I didn't know Chicago was threatened so much by Vampires," Lindsey said, drowning the last of his beer.

The bartender leaned forward. "They're not. But there is some kind of force at work at the moment. Vampires and demons alike have been feeling it around. I don't know what it is but I don't like the sound of it. They say the vampires are just temporarily passing through here on their way to somewhere. I hope they pass out quickly."

Lindsey put his beer down. "Thanks," he said distractedly.

"Watch your back, kid!"

Lindsey reached into his pocket and pulled out a stake. "I dabble a bit in the underworld too. Don't worry; I'm not going to be on any vampire's menu."

"Glad to hear it," the bartender answered, watching the lawyer go out of the bar and into the streets. Lindsey was prepared with his stake. He always carried one around now just in case he should meet anyone he didn't like of the vampire kind. As far as demons went, that was all he could beat at the moment. He wasn't looking for trouble but it worried him that Wolfram and Hart might get a demon to pull him back into the office again unwillingly.

He headed back to his cousin's house which was only a few blocks away so he only walked, his hand clamped around the chequered pocket of his jacket. He looked around and was amazed that the streets were empty but if people were really worried about the killings then they would hide. He'd read the newspaper of "serial killer" running around killing people, but never connected it with vampires.

He knocked on the door. "Keith, open up, I'm home."

He half expected his cousin to shove him out and tell him to come back when he wasn't drunk. Keith was so particular like that. And Lindsey knew he dabbled a bit in the underworld too but magic was more his thing. He had books upon books of spells and incantations, most of which he was afraid to try in case something went terribly wrong. He had read of disaster which came about the complicated spells so he stuck to simple ones.

No one answered his knock, though, in any way. "Keith! Come on, I'm not drunk. Just…fulfilled."

A bright light came from underneath the door, where obviously something was shining from the inside. Then came a shout, which sounded more like a long and painful scream and then Lindsey began to get worried. The yellow light changed to a green and he moved forwards opening the door in and instant. What happened afterwards he wasn't particularly sure? He was standing at the door and next, he was against the wall of the corridor, on his back, the darkness enclosing him. Voices surrounded him.

"What happened to him?" someone asked, sounding like Keith.

"I think the energy from the spell has somehow engulfed itself in him."

"What!" someone shouted. "How?"

"Because he walked through the door in the midst's of our spell." There was a sigh. "You should be worried, Keith. Such energy went into him with a lot of force it could probably kill him or paralyse him. He seems very incoherent now."

There was the sound of a scuffle. Lindsey could feel himself slipping away already. His chest hurt and his lungs felt very tight. He felt as thought he should be suffocating and dying…but soon he noticed he was and began panicking.

"Fix it!" someone said. "What can I do?"

"You can't put more energy onto him to release it. You can't do a spell. But you can give him energy?"

"How?"

Lindsey was aware of someone kneeling down next to him and clasping his right hand. He wanted to pull away but the spell on him prevented that. He was paralysed. Lindsey hated anyone touching his right hand in fear of it doing something to them. The Evil Hand was unpredictable but although he had managed to control it and communicate it on a level, he was uncertain. As he held the person's hand, though, he was aware of a new sensation. A sensation of power, whereby he felt stronger, the pressure on his chest was released and he could move.

In a few minutes, he found himself sitting up against the wall with his cousin and several other people looking at him. They had all looked extremely worried but Lindsey was just confused. He looked down at his right hand which was now unclasped but to his amazement, glowing a strange green.

"What's happening," he demanded, his eyes looking at him in anger. "What have you done to me!" He grabbed Keith's arm and before he knew what had happened, Keith's shirt began to go on fire. "What's happening?"