HUNTING SEASON
S J Smith
Timeline: Sometime around "The House Always Wins"
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I am not, nor have I ever been, Joss Whedon or any member or associate of Mutant Enemies and all the subsidiaries thereof. I'm just a fangirl.
The Challenge Written for: swmbo for the Angel Book of Days site.
Requirements: Connor and location - at least one scene set in W&H
Restrictions: none and would prefer no character death
Spoiler Max Level: S5 - Aired
Rating Max Level: None
* * *
Someone had decided to put a reminder of the season on her desk. The only thing Lilah could say about the floral arrangement was that someone's money had gone to waste. If the silk maple leaves, dyed in hues of umber and russet, weren't enough, the cheerily-grinning scarecrow and miniature pumpkins were overkill. Besides, it was taking up room for important things, like the files she currently reviewed.
Pushing irritatedly at a fluffy seedpod that dangled over the center of her desk, Lilah took up the next file. It was marked, "Fries, Corbin" and dealt with a human who thought himself as much as a monster as, well, monsters. Lilah personally thought that if he could be left overnight in a tank with a few vampires, it might be better for the firm. She wasn't exactly picky, it could be better for her, too. The man had the personality of an Arkansas redneck, as far as she was concerned. Now that he was back amongst the living, such as it were, Lilah could consider accidentally letting info on the creep fall into Angel's hands. It wasn't like the vampire would actually kill Fries, though she could hope, but he could make sure that Fries wound up in another dimension or something equally deserving. It wasn't as if the man was useful. He didn't bring in much revenue and his plots were, for the most part, plodding and mundane. Oh, for a man who could raise a T'lchlorjin demon and let it rampage through the city. That could be interesting. But Fries was much more pedestrian than that and as such, barely occupied Lilah's attention.
The knock at her door was almost a relief and she flipped the file closed as Gavin walked into her office. His eyes widened slightly at the profusion of color on her mahogany desk top and Lilah didn't like the almost concealed smirk on the Asian's face. She folded her arms and tilted her chair back slightly. Maybe she should pass on Fries to him. The redneck didn't like being counseled by a woman; she wondered what he'd think of Gavin. The thought almost cheered her as much as the idea of Wesley in bed. Not in the same way, of course. A woman has to have her priorities. However, it might do to remind Gavin of his position in Wolfram and Hart to take a case like Fries'. "I suppose you have something to say?"
Gavin's not-smirked deepened. "Just wanted to let you know, the Hyperion's empty."
She straightened, her eyebrows lifting politely. "Do tell."
"It appears they've all gone...somewhere." He leaned against the doorframe, lightly slapping a manilla envelope into his hand. "One of our operatives checked in earlier."
"No clues as to where?"
Gavin shook his head. "Just like Roanoke."
She fixed him with a stare. "Make sure that someone's watching the hotel at all times. I want to know when they return. And find out where they might have gone." She trailed her fingers over Fries' file then rubbed them together as if to remove a residual taint. "If you have to break into the hotel, that's fine. They may have left some word there." A memory surfaced and Lilah said thoughtfully, "You might want to check Sunnydale. Angel has connections there."
Gavin paused, something in his stance showing a certain edginess. Lilah allowed a faint smile to curl the corners of her mouth. "Is there something wrong, Gavin?"
"Sunnydale." He frowned. "Isn't that the Hellmouth?"
Her smile broadened. "I see you've done your homework. Good boy."
"Angel's reason for going to the Hellmouth." Gavin sorted through his own thoughts, finally asking, "Didn't the Slayer die?"
"Oh, funny thing about that particular Slayer, Gavin," Lilah said, thrilled to be able to one-up this upstart, "she keeps rising from the dead, good as new. I know, it's almost like a television show, isn't it, but that's the way it is." She leaned forward again, firmly on top. "Check out Sunnydale, Gavin."
He nodded abruptly, understanding that it was time for him to leave. As he turned to go out the door, Lilah called him back. "Don't forget this." She rose, picking up Fries' file and handing it to him.
Forehead creasing, Gavin glanced down at the file and back at her. "What's this?"
"Your newest client. You have a meeting with him tomorrow at two o'clock, so you'd better bone up on his records." Lilah lay a hand on Gavin's shoulder and guided him out of her office. Let me know when you hear something new about Angel." Before she closed the door, she inclined her head towards the arrangement. "And find someone to take that thing out of my office."
Gavin's smirk reappeared and Lilah wondered for a second if he'd been the one to put the scarecrow on her desk. "Just get rid of it." She shut the door in his face, leaning back against the wood, feeling its silkiness beneath her. "So, Angel," she said to the air, "where have you gotten off to this time?"
* * *
He was well-acquainted with the cold. Quor-Toth winters were best spent in caves, deep beneath the ground but he remembered what it was like, coming across camps others had made there, how it always felt.
Just like this.
There was no one in the hotel. It smelled cold, empty; like no one had been here in months. And he knew that wasn't true, only two days ago, he'd popped in and had spied on Gunn and Fred, talking in the lobby. It amazed him how quickly a place could grow stale, without its residents. Even if one of them was a vampire.
He prowled carefully around the hotel, searching for clues, signs, spoor. Living there with Fred and Gunn, he'd learned all the secret ways around it. He could spy on nearly any room without being seen; could listen in to nearly every conversation. There was no place to hide from him within the building. This time, his stealth didn't matter.
They'd left behind little to interest him; some clothing, no food. Papers held no meaning for him, nor books; he'd learned of each from Father but never really had time to comprehend what they could tell him. Symbols on pages meant nothing, especially when interspersed with Fred's loopy diagrams. He shuffled them around, put them back where he found them. He was sure the vampire, the demon who'd fathered him, would know if he lost any of the pages, if any of the books went missing. Though a part of him itched for a confrontation, Connor wanted it to be on his terms. Until he knew that they had returned, he didn't want to take anything. Less of a challenge that way.
There were weapons left behind; all remarkably cared for and in excellent condition. He appropriated a sword for himself. That, he knew the vampire wouldn't begrudge him. Even though he didn't really want to take anything from the demon, it was a useful weapon and it fit lightly in his hand. He sliced through the air thoughtfully, remembering the moves he had tried on the vampire. The demon had fought well against him; too well, Connor remembered. He seemed to have an angel, Connor snorted at the choice of his words, sitting on his shoulder. Or perhaps Hell, having had its fill of him, didn't want him back.
It didn't matter, not really.
He stood in the center of the hotel lobby, weapon in hand, head lowered to study the mosaic pattern set into the flooring under his feet. The stones were smooth from so many feet passing over them throughout the years.
The sound was so soft, he shouldn't have heard it. Connor's eyes raised, the only movement of his body besides a shifting of his grip on the sword.
It came again, a clicking, followed by a scuff of something, a shoe over carpet.
He waited, still as stone, his breathing slowing, his concentration focused on the staircase that swept down into the lobby where he stood. The sword rested easily in his hand, a part of him, an extension of his arm. He tilted his head towards the staircase, willing the next sound to come.
Something upstairs crashed, followed by a scream. Eyes widening, Connor tore up the stairs. That hadn't been the sound he'd been expecting.
* * *
The files were more interesting than Fries', Lilah had to admit. It'd been some time since she'd actually reviewed the files on the two current Slayers. Faith had been into some kinky things when she was running around free. Probably wasn't a bad thing that she was behind bars. As for the other one, Angel's ex, well, it couldn't be for the best, could it, having been pulled from Heaven? She wondered if Angel knew that his precious Buffy had taken up with another vampire. Something to keep tabs on, a Slayer with a yen for the dead.
A knock sounded on her door and Gavin poked his head inside. Before she could snarl, he said, "You wanted to know if there was any activity at the Hyperion," he said.
"Well?" She stood up and walked around her desk, leaning back against it and crossing her ankles. She could do that now that Gavin removed that stupid arrangement. "What is it?"
Gavin smiled. "The boy is there."
"Angel's son?" Better and better. Even if the kid had somehow grown to adulthood in a few short weeks, there were people who'd pay money for him. Regardless of the fact that Angel had threatened the life of nearly everyone in the firm if anything happened to the boy, Connor obviously wasn't with anyone who could protect him.
"He's not the only one there," Gavin said, watching her closely for a reaction. When she didn't give him the pleasure, he went on. "There's a young woman inside the hotel, too. You'd think that Angel would leave some sort of chaperone, wouldn't you?"
Lilah folded her arms, allowing herself the luxury of a hair toss. "Time for a retrieval." Her voice lost any playfulness it may have had. "Bring them in. Oh, and Gavin? Make sure the boy is alive."
"And the girl?"
She waved a manicured hand at him. "Don't know who she is, don't really care. And I want to know exactly when Connor's brought in. Don't conveniently forget to tell me he's here because I'll be watching." She waited to make sure the threat sank in. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get moving."
Gavin was obedient this time too, disappearing out the door. Lilah drummed her fingertips on her arms, twisting slightly to look at the file behind her. With a sigh, she pushed off the desk. It would be at least an hour for the extraction to take place. She had time to get some fresh coffee and maybe scrounge up a donut.
* * *
Skidding around the corner of the hallway, Connor realized there was no more floor and flung himself into the wall. The sword dropped from his hand, turning almost lazily in the air, dim light flashing along its edge as it fell through the gaping hole in the hall.
"Help me." A girl clung to an edge of the hole, fingers dug into the old carpet that tore slowly at her weight. The weave ripped and, yelping, she dropped further into the crevasse.
Connor remembered the holes he'd seen in the ceilings on the second floor, the huge hole that swallowed nearly one of the rooms. He gritted his teeth in irritation. The girl was above that hole, he knew it. He didn't dare leap; his landing could jar the flooring more, possibly send the girl tumbling. "Try not to move," he said, switching his attention to the hall itself.
It was spectacularly empty of anything he could possibly use to rescue the girl. What once had been furniture had been rendered to sticks, the carpet was threadbare and dry-rotted. The floor groaned like a hungry huktal, the jagged edges of the hole bringing back memories Connor would rather keep repressed.
The girl gave a sharp scream as the rug under her fingers tore again. Her eyes pleaded with him to do something as she tried to drag herself back out of the maw. Connor glanced to his left and right and threw himself away from the wall. He leaped over the hole, above the girl's head, rolling onto his shoulder in an attempt to disburse his weight in the greatest way possible. Spinning around, he dove for the girl's hands, catching her wrists and scooting back on his stomach, trying to haul her out of the hole as he moved.
Her teeth clenched, she fought against gravity, crying out as part of the floor beneath her gave way. Connor dug into the threadbare carpet with elbows and knees and feet, anything to give him more purchase, to not let both of them tumble down that hole. Grunting, he pulled back, away from the edge, hearing skin scraping over wood. Her elbows were over the edge now and she was using them, too, helping him. He reached out to catch her under the arm with one hand, using that leverage to drag her the rest of the way out of the hole. Panic surged through her body and when he tugged, she came the rest of the way out, landing on top of him.
In an awkward heap, they both rolled away from the danger, the floor falling behind them, the soft echo of it hitting something farther down rising along with a lazy puff of dust.
The girl scrambled off of him, pressing her back against a wall, her hands flat on the floor next to her, body tensed to flee. Connor followed a little more circumspectly, casting a long look at the hole behind them as he sat across from the girl.
"Thanks," she said, shaking her head hard. Her short, dark hair fluttered with the movement and she peered at Connor out of eyes darker than Angel's or Gunn's. "I thought I was a goner."
Connor glanced down at his knees and back again, not recognizing the word.
"It's spooky in this place, huh?" She rubbed her hands up and down her pants legs, peering at the ceiling, the walls. "I didn't expect it to look like this."
"What did you expect?"
Carefully, she got to her feet, keeping close to the wall as she took a few steps farther away from the hole. "Not a self-destructing hotel, that's for sure." Another look around. "I think I'm lost."
Connor cocked his head to one side. She paused, meeting his gaze. "Listen," she said, "I'm sorry if I disturbed your...well. Place? But I was told that Angel Investigations is in this building. And who would have a business in a decaying heap like this one?"
"It is."
She shook her head. "Huh?"
Connor rolled to his feet, walking towards her. "It is. Angel Investigations, I mean."
Her lip curled up. "You're joking."
"No."
"This dump?" Her hands swung out, pointing out the hall, the carpet, the huge hole in the floor.
"I don't understand," Connor said, frustrated.
"Okay, then." She sighed softly, her shoulders rising and falling with the breath. It did interesting things to the front of her shirt and Connor jerked his eyes upwards as she turned to him again. "I need help. Really. And if this is Angel Investigations," she paused. "You aren't Angel, are you?"
Connor snorted, flipping his hair back. "No." He hesitated. "I'm...we're related."
"You are?" She seemed dubious. "Okay. Whatever. I need to talk to him. Do you know where he is?" Turning, she started down the hallway, keeping one hand braced on the wall.
He shook his head. "No."
That turned her back around, her hands on her hips. "No?"
"He left," Connor said, shrugging.
"On a case, right?" the girl asked, sounding worried.
"I don't know."
"But he'll be back?"
The note of panic was in her voice again. Connor didn't understand what the girl wanted with the demon who was his father. Just that the idea of him not being here made her upset. "Yeah, I suppose. We don't talk much."
"Great, just frickin' great," she muttered. She took a deep breath and let it out. "Okay. Okay." Her hands patted the air in front of her. "Calm down, Lea, calm down."
Connor folded his arms. "Is there something I can do?"
"You?" She blinked.
He didn't like the way she'd said it, all the disbelief in her tones. He threw out his chest, not realizing the picture he presented. "What's wrong with me?"
"You're...not a detective, are you? I mean, you're still in high school." Her mouth twitched and she asked dubiously, "Are you even in high school?"
More words he didn't know the meaning of. "I can help you," Connor said, ignoring her questions.
Scrubbing at her dark hair, she shrugged elaborately. "All right. I trust you." Almost under her breath, she added, "Not like there's anyone else right now." Making an obvious decision, she thrust a hand at him. "My name's Lea."
"Connor." He took her hand to lead her along the safe ways. "Come on. It's not really safe here."
She laughed sharply. "You're telling me?"
He shot his hair out of his eyes. "Yes." Guiding her around a soft spot in the hall, Connor asked, "What help do you need?"
Her answer was cut off by the figure slamming through the window. Its presence heralded another, glass shattering around them. "That kind!" Lea screamed. Connor tightened his grip on her hand and hauled her down the hall, hearing another crash, then a scream. Someone obviously didn't know the floor was weak.
Allowing himself a grim smile, Connor pulled Lea around a corner. A man dressed all in black blocked the hall. Lea's voice carried over his shoulder, her steady moans of "no, no, no" making Connor's decision for him. He shoved her into one of the rooms, lunging forward in almost the same instant. The man raised a weapon and Connor dove, catching the man's knees. They went down in a pile, the floor creaking ominously under them. The man was better than most, shoving the barrel of his weapon into Connor's shoulder. He punched hard into the man's groin at the same time.
The abused wood creaked and the man screamed, writhing beneath Connor. He rolled off as Lea reached out of the room. "Let's go, Connor," she said, grabbing for his hand. "There'll be more." She hauled him to his feet and he nearly fell over her, trying to get into the room. He kicked the door closed behind them.
"We're trapped in here," she said as Connor shoved a piece of wood under the door as a stop.
"No," he said, putting a finger to his lips and gesturing for her to follow. He quickly moved to the closet, opening the door and pointing at a hole in the ceiling. "Ways to get around," he said softly, lacing his fingers together to give her a boost.
Lea nodded, stepping into his hands and jumping up. Connor pushed at her sneakered feet to give her the momentum to wriggle into the hole. She peered back through it at him and he pointed to the left. She nodded and backed out of view. Connor darted towards the window, picking up the remains of a table and swinging it at the glass. He yanked down the rotted fabric of the curtains and, wadding them up, flung them out the smashed window. Slipping back around the room, Connor jumped up, grasping the edges of the opening and hauling himself through it. Lea grabbed his forearms and added her strength to his efforts, nearly yanking him on top of her.
He again cautioned her with a finger to his lips. Lea shrugged, miming a sorrowful expression. They both lay perfectly still, Connor listening closely. Someone was banging into the door, obviously trying to open it. Someone else shouted that they'd escaped. He jerked his chin at Lea, pointing behind her. Pressing his mouth against her ear, he said, "Let me go first." She nodded, pressing herself tightly against the wall. Connor slithered by her, the friction of her body against his making it difficult for him to concentrate.
Connor led the way along the ventilation shafts, pleased that Lea could move relatively quietly. She followed him gamely, not quite riding up on his heels. Dust had caked into dirt, not something that would hamper their breathing. Still, the air in the vent was stale and Connor wanted out of the shaft as soon as possible.
There were echoes of the search going on and a triumphant shout sounded. "They're in the duct work!"
"They can move faster than us," Connor said softly, "but they don't know which way we went."
"If they hear us." Lea bit her lower lip, her eyes darting around the shaft.
"I'll protect you." Connor didn't like that her expression changed rapidly from worry to something else unreadable then back to worry. "I can defend you," he insisted.
"Not in here," she said. "Connor, we need to get out of here. We're sitting ducks."
Sitting ducks must be something like a wounded gartacg, Connor thought, not able to fight or run away. "Stay quiet," he said, "and follow."
* * *
Gavin poked his head back in the door, eyebrows lifting at the sight of a pumpkin tossed in Lilah's trash can. "Jack offending you?"
"I was out for a cup of coffee and someone put that...thing on my desk," Lilah said. She studied Gavin narrowly. He was still on the top of her suspects list for the scarecrow and now the pumpkin.
"Well, it is the season," he said mildly.
Lilah tapped her fingers lightly on her desk. "I don't suppose you have more information about Connor. Like, you managed to capture him."
"He and the girl are in the duct works of the hotel," Gavin said, with the air of someone telling the punchline of joke.
"And?"
"They're trapped."
Lilah carefully guided a strand of hair away from her face before asking, "And you know this how?"
"The team can track them in the ducts."
Way to go, Gavin, she thought, keep digging. "You...and they...do realize this is an old hotel? With...well, you are the one who pointed out the numerous violations in the Hyperion, weren't you? Do you really think that every square foot of the ducts can be monitored?"
His smile was brief, gloating and unexpected. "You'll have to wait and see, won't you?"
* * *
Connor slithered along the duct work, mentally reviewing the options before him. He could stash the girl somewhere but he couldn't count on her to remain where he left her. And what if their attackers found her first? It wouldn't do. Someone wanted Lea, he'd sworn to protect her. So far, she'd been careful; hadn't done anything more stupid than falling down the hole in the hall. She was quieter than he'd expected; after living with Fred for nearly an entire summer, he was surprised that Lea could keep her mouth shut and not question everything. Especially with her evident fear. Fred only seemed to be quiet when in the most dangerous positions; otherwise, she yapped on about nothing important. Connor had no time to argue with vampires or other demons; they were for killing. An abomination.
But this wasn't the time nor the place to compare Lea to Fred or even humans to demons, though Connor was glad whoever was chasing Lea appeared to simply be human. Her scent was acrid with her fear and would be easy for a real predator to track. The smell surrounded im and he wondered how Angel dealt with it. Fear should drive a vampire wild; incite the desire to hunt. He wondered how Angel managed to put aside those instincts then pushed aside that thought as well. They were being hunted. That should be the focus of his attention, not the demon that was his father nor his father's friends.
Pausing at a juncture in the works, Connor held up his hand. Lea halted, swallowing air. He could see how much effort she was putting into keeping up with him. Reaching back, he brushed her hand lightly. "Rest here. Try not to move. I want to find out where our hunters are."
Lea nodded, her bangs falling into her eyes, sweat sticking the hair to her skin. "All right," she gasped.
"Stay as quiet as you can," Connor said. "I'll be back."
"You and Arnie," she said, her head bobbing.
He covered his lack of understanding with a squeeze of her hand and scooted off. It was only a matter of time before they were found. He knew they had to get out of the shafts and at least into the hotel. There were more places to hide, more maneuverability.
Connor eased along, all of his senses alert. He knew the way the third floor of the Hyperion smelled; that the dust there would be coating the air with someone walking through the halls. Any noise would echo along the woodwork, though the shafts he traveled through would cut down on his ability to pick up the sounds. Something caught his ear and paused, spotting an opening. Cupping his hands around his ears, he held his breath. At first, he didn't hear anything except the thud of his own heart. Connor drew in a breath slowly and cautiously slid closer to the vent.
A faint smile tugged at his mouth. One of the hunters was in the room under the vent the opening, weapon held ready. Connor made his way carefully back to Lea, a plan forming. The girl perked up when she saw him, her nervous grin a beacon. He hated to douse that smile but there was no help for it. "There's a man in the next room," he said, his voice barely louder than a breath in the stale air.
Lea shrank back, her fingers nervously twitching but she forced herself to ask, with barely a quaver in her voice, "What do we do?"
"That depends," Connor said seriously, touching her forearm. "How brave are you?"
* * *
The knock sounded on her door and Penny, one of the older secretaries, popped her head in. "Ms. Morgan?"
The little dark-haired woman had been around forever, as far as Lilah was concerned. She wasn't sure how Penny had managed to keep her job. Her work was barely competent and she always seemed put-upon when asked to do anything beyond her normal scope. "What is it?"
Penny grinned brightly, pushing the door farther open to allow a bouquet of balloons to follow her into the room. Orange, red and yellow balloons were festooned with black, curling ribbons and two mylar balloons, both of huge pumpkins, overwhelmed the rest. "These came for you," she said. "I think someone has an admirer."
Lilah stared at the bobbing bouquet. Someone was going through a lot of money to get her goat. "Is there a card?"
Penny tried to hand the balloons over but Lilah waved her hands. "No card," she said, unsure what to do with the bouquet.
"Who delivered them?" Lilah stood up abruptly, leaning over her desk, a calculating gleam in her eyes.
Shrugging, Penny sniffed. She was obviously unable to deal with someone who didn't want the little trinkets that had been arriving all day, either. "I didn't ask."
"You had to sign something," Lilah snapped.
"No, I didn't." Lilah had to give the shorter woman that, she didn't back down. Another little bulldog of a woman. "Gavin brought them into the office and said they were for you, would I deliver them. And I did." She dropped the ribbons and the little plastic anchors for the balloons clicked when they hit the floor. "Good day, Ms. Morgan." Spinning on her heel, she stomped out of the office.
Lilah snarled mentally after Penny, picking up her letter opener. Walking around the desk, she headed for the balloons. At least popping the stupid things would relieve some of her tension.
* * *
This was supposed to be a quick, quiet retrieval mission. John Hyla checked his watch, frowning at the time. They'd already been in the Hyperion Hotel longer than expected. Not good, especially when his team always ran on a schedule. Being one of the team leaders for the Wolfram and Hart wetworks was a high pressure job but the bennies were definitely worth it. Of course, there were always risks, like the fact that the hotel was a ramshackle piece of crap, ready to fall apart. That was already proven by Starkey falling down that hole.
Hyla wondered whether they'd have time to get Starkey's body or whether they'd leave it for the vampire to find. He'd been in this hotel before, done mop-up services after that single man wiped out nearly all of the a-team wetworks staff last year and knew all about the vampire with the soul who resided in the Hyperion. You'd have to be in the fifth level of Hell not to have heard of Angel and his do-gooders.
Shifting his grip on his tranq gun, Hyla scanned the room again. All indications showed the kids were in the ventilation shaft, running the length of third floor. The drop shafts to the second floor were being closely monitored by some of the men on his team. Radio silence was being maintained; the boy was supposed to be special, according to the doss sheet; not quite human and therefore big game, just the kind Hyla liked.
The whole Frank-Buck-bring-'em-back-alive thing was a little disappointing but that's what the boss ordered so he'd made sure his team had the tranqs rather than real weapons. Outfitted with tasers and stun grenades, they'd try the gas bombs in the shafts once everyone was in position. Hyla didn't doubt it'd drive the kid out of the shafts and into someone's waiting arms. With luck, it'd be his.
There was a faint sound and Hyla turned the muzzle of his gun towards it automatically. He thumbed the safety off, feeling the adrenalin rush pump his heart into overdrive. His job was good and this was the best part of the day. Gonna be a good one, he thought to himself, starting to smile.
The arm caught him from behind, hand over his mouth to keep him from screaming. The knife stabbed straight down into the hollow of his throat, then tore up, blood splashing the walls and floor.
Hyla was dead before he was dumped on the floor.
* * *
Lilah hesitated on her way back to her office, noticing Gavin standing in the radio room with a technician. Meandering over, she slipped inside, leaning against the door jam, her arms folded, waiting for Gavin to notice her. The technician was punching buttons and twisting dials, definitely in panic mode. Somehow, Lilah thought this didn't bode well for picking up Connor.
"I can't raise any of the team, sir," the technician said, slapping her hands on the board in frustration. "Their radios are on but they aren't answering."
"I told you the boy's good," Lilah said, interjecting smoothly before Gavin could say anything.
He barely glanced over his shoulder. "Try again," he snapped. "They have to be there."
The tech shook her curly red hair and let loose a sigh. "I'll try. But I think they're gone."
"Hope they weren't your best, Gavin," Lilah said smugly.
"Be quiet, Lilah," Gavin snarled. "Get someone in there. I want to know what's going on."
"Me too." Lilah pushed off the door. "I'll meet you in the garage in five. Be there, Gavin, or I'll sell your tongue to a d'Skadian footh demon."
Lilah was delighted that they managed to leave the office in less than three minutes. Say what you may, threats worked.
* * *
Connor crouched next to the damaged area of the shaft, Lea's breath tickling the back of his neck. He nearly told her to move back but he didn't want to alert the man guarding the hall. Not yet, at least. Turning his head, he met Lea's dark eyes, reading the fear and worry in them. He offered her a slight smile and she tried to answer it with one of her own. He nodded once at her, the signal and threw himself against the rusted metal.
The crash was satisfyingly loud. Connor hit the floor rolling, the bits of metal scraping his bared arms and hands. He slapped his hands on the floor, using his momentum to throw his feet up into the man's chin. The snap was audible and the man fell without a sound of his own, the weapon dropping with a clatter. Connor turned back to the vent, gesturing. "Lea, come on!"
Awkwardly, she jumped out of the duct, giving a little cry as she landed, nearly falling to the floor when she grabbed for her ankle. Connor grabbed her wrist to haul her to her feet. "Don't you know how to land properly?" he asked. "You should roll. It's better for your legs."
"I'll try to remember that," Lea said, wincing. She studied the man sprawled across the hall, her eyes widening. "He's human."
Connor shook off the strange softness of her voice. "We need to move," he said. "They will have heard this." Keeping a firm grip on her hand, he tugged Lea past the body. Her gaze remained on it as he pulled her down the hallway.
"Connor," she said quietly, as they neared the closest corner to the stairway, "Connor, he was human."
"He had a weapon," Connor said. That was enough. He'd had those weapons pointed at him before, had seen the damage they'd done to his father. To Angel, he corrected himself. His father was dead, killed by a vampire, beheaded and burned and gone.
Lea dragged on his arm and when he looked back in impatience, her eyes were huge in her pale, sweaty face. She swallowed hard and jerked out of his grip, wrapping her arms around herself as if that would control the shaking. "That was a man, Connor," she said, her voice broken. "That's not what's after me."
"What?" He shook his head to clear it, reaching out for her again. "Come on, Lea, we don't have time."
She retreated, her back against the wall. "No, you don't understand." If the words had been any louder, they would have been a wail. Her head drooped, her eyes fixed on the floor near his shoe, as far as Connor could tell. "They aren't human, Connor. They're monsters." She bit her lower lip. "Unless the monsters got the men to follow me? Oh, God."
The sound of footsteps heralded their approach and Connor whirled, head tucking down automatically to shield his neck, hands stretched out slightly from his sides, readying himself for the attack. Two of them appeared, grey robes flopping around their limbs. Lea screamed behind him and ran back the way they'd already come. Connor noticed blood staining the robes, the crimson hue to the crescent-shaped blades as they rushed forward.
He stepped into their path.
* * *
Lea ducked into a room, slamming the door behind her. She knew it wouldn't hold off her attackers long. She knew they'd find her again; it seemed what they did best. They were better than bloodhounds, like they followed her by scent. Shaking, she leaned against the door, searching the room for anything to block up the entrance. She doubted she could get into the duct works again without Connor's help.
"Oh, God." She'd left him out there, alone. Digging her hands into her hair, Lea let out a short scream of frustration. She didn't want to go out there but he'd been trying to help her. He'd saved her life from that stupid hole. Maybe he wasn't that legendary guy, Angel, but he'd done his best to help her and she'd just run away, like a coward. "Left him to die," she muttered to herself, slamming her hands into her thighs hard enough to bruise. She glanced around the room, not seeing anything she could possibly use as a weapon. With a fatalistic sigh, Lea turned and faced the door, laying her hand on the knob.
Twisting it, she pulled the door open. She heard a faint sound and pain bloomed in her stomach. Looking down, she saw the hilt of a knife, blood dribbling around it and staining her shirt and jeans. "No," she moaned, putting her hand on the hilt, gasping at the pain. Lifting her head, she stared up at the two robed beings, their eyes branded closed. "No."
Another knife came up slowly, reminding Lea of all the horror movies she'd seen with Johnny, when they were dating. She reached out, knowing it wouldn't stop the knife, it would come slicing in but she couldn't help herself.
There was a strange sound, something that echoed loudly in her ears. The knife remained poised above her for a few seconds, then dropped loosely to the floor. The second robed creature tried to turn but waited too long; a pair of long-fingered hands caught its head and snapped its neck like they had the first one. Both lay dead at her feet. Lea swallowed, tasting blood; somehow raised her head and forcing a smile.
"Hey, Connor," she whispered. "You're alive."
He caught her as she fell, going to the floor with her, holding her as carefully as he knew how. "Your wound," he said.
Lea touched the hilt. "It doesn't hurt much," she lied. "But you, you're a hero. Better than I would've been." She smiled up at him. His eyes were so pretty, so blue. "Maybe you should've been the chosen one, huh?"
Connor shook his head. "You are very brave," he said forcefully.
"It's cold in here." She shivered. "So cold."
Connor held her, smoothing her dark hair away from her face. She smiled at him one last time then her breath caught and didn't start again.
He was well-familiar with the feel of death.
Gently setting aside Lea's body, Connor rose to his feet. He wished he could do something more for her but this was her husk, her shell. Her spirit had flown. "Good bye, Lea," he said, and made his way out of the hotel.
* * *
The boy was long gone by the time they reached the Hyperion, leaving behind enough bodies that it looked as if a war had been fought in the upper halls. Those that were Wolfram and Hart staff were checked off mentally; reparations would be made to their families. The four Harbingers were taken care of by the cleaners, though their presence at the Hyperion was a matter of speculation, at least until one of the cleaners presented a mini composition book found on the body of the teenage girl.
Lilah flipped through the book one last time, Gavin watching her with hooded eyes. "It does say what I think it says?" he asked.
She slapped the book on her desk blotter. "The girl appears to be a Slayer-in-Training. Or would've been, if she hadn't been killed. Someone obviously contacted her and told her to get in touch with Angel."
Gavin hitched himself up on the corner of her desk. Her glare didn't deflect him at all. "He has helped both current Slayers before."
"Don't I know it," Lilah muttered, running her fingers over the file of one Summers, Buffy. She pushed out of her chair, prowling around her office. "It doesn't explain why Harbingers killed this girl."
"Maybe it does." Gavin's expression was a little smug when she turned to face him. "Maybe someone's gunning for the current Slayers. Maybe," he said, warming to his subject, "something is happening in Sunnydale right now."
"And maybe you should find out what it is, like I suggested earlier." Lilah pushed him so he slid off her desk. "I'll expect a full report in three hours." Manicured fingers shooed Gavin towards the door. "In depth," she added.
He nodded though his irritation smoldered. "I'll get right on it." Stalking to her door, Gavin yanked it open, just in time for Penny to nearly fall through.
"Thank you," the small woman said bitterly. She waved at someone outside the entrance. "Bring it in here."
Two men hauled in something that looked like a set for a Halloween play - two sheaves of corn, two bales of hay, an elaborately carved pumpkin and another scarecrow, life size this time. Gavin and Penny watched it all roll past them as Lilah stepped in front of the men.
"What is the meaning of this?" she asked, hands on her hips.
"Delivery," one of the men said, finding a clipboard in amongst all the autumn paraphernalia. "Gotta sign here, miss."
"I am not signing for this," Lilah snapped. "I don't want it this eyesore cluttering up my office. I want you to take it out of here and dispose of it."
The two men looked at each other. The one with the clipboard shrugged. "Sure thing, miss. You still gotta sign, though. Show that you received it. Mr. McDonald wouldn't be happy if he didn't know you got this display."
Lilah ripped the clipboard from his hands. "McDonald? As in Lindsey McDonald?" She scanned the board, searching for his name.
"There's a card," Penny said, helpfully offering an orange envelope. She nearly lost a finger when Lilah roughly shoved the clipboard into her hands and snatched the envelope from her. "Some people," she sniffed. Gavin patted her shoulder awkwardly.
Lilah tore open the envelope, fishing the small card out of it. In Lindsey's precise script, she read, "I just couldn't wait for April Fool's. Hope you've enjoyed. L." For an instant, she saw red; imagined popping Lindsey's head from his shoulders. "Get that thing out of here," she said, her teeth grinding together.
"Whatever you say, miss," the delivery man said and he and his partner wheeled the monstrosity around, heading for the doorway.
"You still need to sign for it, Lilah," Gavin said, waving the clipboard.
"You sign, if it's so important." She wanted them all out of her office, right now. "And remember, I want the info on Sunnydale and, while you're at it, an update on the Slayers in two hours."
"You said three," Gavin protested.
"Wanna make it one?"
He raised his palms in defeat, herding Penny out of the room. Lilah just managed not to slam the door after them.
"Lindsey McDonald," she seethed, "you'll pay for this."
* * *
The hotel was clean again, well, as clean as it was going to get. None of the bodies remained on the third floor. All evidence of the attacks were gone.
Connor prowled around, wondering at it. The scents in the air were already stale but left a strange, burning sensation in his throat. It was obvious that Angel hadn't returned but Connor didn't know who else might have taken care of the bodies. He wondered what might have happened to Lea's. There wasn't even blood in what remained of the carpeting to show that she'd fought and died in the hotel.
Downstairs, the telephone started ringing. On the third ring, the machine picked up and Cordelia's voice said, "Hi, you've reached Angel Investigations."
By the time the message finished, Connor was gone.
-fin-