CHAPTER 23: ABOVE THE LAW
Angel sat in front of the fire place in the mansion, staring into the roaring flames as he had so many times before. He was brooding – or something similar to it. His new, improved brooding sessions included happy day dreams of past murders and diabolical plans. However, just as usual he was deeply absorbed in thoughts. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know where he was standing in the Scooby's eyes, although he was fairly certain that no one would trust him if he went back to them. They shouldn't.
With a slight frown on his face, he looked up from the fire. He sensed something. It started as a faint tingle and quickly grew stronger. Someone was approaching, someone that set off all his senses. His first thought was that it was Buffy taking another swing at him, but it wasn't that type of tingle.
This was more like when a vampire in his line was close to him. Spike? That couldn't be, Captain Peroxide wouldn't be foolish enough to confront him again. Unless he had backup… Angel peeked one of the many windows in the mansion. The front of the house wasn't currently bathing in sunlight so he could look outside without running a risk of bursting into flames.
A car was coming up his driveway at a steady pace. It was definitely not Spike; this car wasn't the worn black DeSoto he usually drove, but a limousine. Angel felt the tingle stronger and stronger. If he didn't know better, he would think that someone he hadn't seen for years, well, with the exception for those dreams before he came to Sunnydale was in that limo… But that couldn't be. That definitely couldn't be.
He opened the front door and stepped outside, as the car stopped within a stone's throw away from the mansion. He was carefully keeping to the shadows, but he felt like this was a situation he should watch from a close distance.
When the driver came out of the limo, he didn't even look at Angel before he opened one of the doors to allow a passenger to step out. A gray-haired, middle-aged smirking man wearing a dark blue suite stepped out. He approached Angel, never dropping his over-confident expression.
"Angel! It's so nice to finally meet you." Angel just stared at him, unsympathetic. He'd never seen this man before. He offered his hand to Angel, who simply continued glaring at him, not making a move to greet him. Who was this figure, and what was he doing outside his house?
"I'm Mr. Holland Manners. I'm with Wolfram and Hart." So that was it. Ah, he should have predicted. The limo, the oily face, the pompous outlook – it practically reeked of Wolfram & Hart.
"A lawyer, isn't that nice," Angel said coldly, his eyes never leaving Manner's. "How's Lindsay, enjoying the one hand look?" He kept staring him straight in the eyes, psyching him.
"I'd take that down if you don't want me to demonstrate what happened to Lindsay the last time I saw him," Angel said, indicating Holland's hand. His smile faded. He swallowed. Angel could smell the slight aroma of sweat coming off him.
"Uh… Of course Lindsay understands that sacrifices are required when you're on the top."
"Your wife told you that, did she?" Angel grinned slightly, slowly ripping away every layer of protection Manner's thought he had against all kinds of mental trials. There was a beat of silence as the stunned lawyer tried to interpret Angel's expression.
"Well, let's not waste time with… pleasantries. I brought someone I want you to meet." He waved at the driver who helped a thin, pale blond out of the left side of limo. Angel could see who it was instantly. Apart from having vampire vision, you usually don't have a hard time recognizing a woman you've spent 150 years with…
"Darla?" Angel stepped forward, still avoiding the deadly sun beams. However, he noticed that Darla was walking in the sunlight without even sizzling.
"How can she… she's human?" He gave Manner's a skeptical look before he turned his gaze back to Darla. Was it Darla? Yes, all his sense told him that it was. Her scent… well, he remembered it pretty well. There was no doubt. This was his sire. Only not… since she wasn't a vampire.
Darla came up to him, her somewhat lifeless eyes gleaming with… what was it, joy? Darla was happy to see him? This was deeply confusing.
"Angelus… My darling boy." Angel stared at her, not knowing how it was appropriate to react when reunited with his long dead, now human sire. A shocking notion to say in the least.
"You see Angel," Holland said. "Darla is very ill. She… came back to us as human, and now the syphilis she was dying from in the 17th century has caught up with her. I don't think it's necessary to tell you what she needs."
The limousine driver screamed in agony and they all turned their heads. He had moved to the right side of the car where another woman was coming out of it, walking straightly into the shielding shadow. And it wasn't just any woman. She was tall, pale, very thin with dark long hair…
"Drusilla?" He stared at her as she walked slowly towards him, her big, dark eyes piercing him. Things were making less and less sense.
"No need to introduce the two of you, I'm sure," Holland commented. He glanced at the now deceased limousine driver that was slumped on the ground before he continued. That was just great. Now who was supposed to drive him away from this place? He would have to call for another driver.
"We brought Drusilla in to… take care of Darla's problem. However, she insisted that you three should meet."
Drusilla circled Angel, studying him with big, round eyes. "Little hamster in my head… quickened his pace in the wheel… and he whispered to me… whispered to me that Daddy isn't soul sick any more…"
She stopped in front of him, staring into his eyes. There was a playful playing over her face as she spoke. "Are we family again?"
At this stimulus intensity, seeing Drusilla again, Angel's demon and soul battled fiercely internally to get the upper hand. One of them struggling to get control, to take what he wanted, the other trying to avert it, to get away from Drusilla.
The latter lost.
"That we are, Dru," he said, turning his gaze to Holland Manners that seemed to shrink before him. This he wasn't prepared for, Angel could tell.
"So," he began, "she's what you brought back in that box." he indicated Darla. He started to pace in his small spot of shadow, it seemed to make Holland nervous. "Now, that's just interesting."
"Er… Yes, Darla is what we brought back. Of course we wanted to… offer you a token of peace and…" Holland was stammering.
Angel chuckled and leered at the sweating man. He had never met him before, but it was obvious that Holland was expecting to meet the goody-goody version that might glare at him evilly, but not do any damage. Well okay – he, Angel, had actually cut off Lindsay's hand, but only because he was about to destroy the scroll containing the words that would remove Vocah's spell and bring back Cordelia. Without it, she would have been in a state if insanity for life – so that was really only to protect her.
Holland Manners didn't strike Angel as the type who would willingly risk his hands, or any other parts.
"That's a good one, Mr. Manners. Really. However, not even Angel is so stupid that he would actually believe that you brought back his old, in fact slain by his own hand, sire from hell as a token of peace." He crept close to Holland and spoke, no, whispered in his ear.
"I think you wanted to see another side of the Dark Avenger, isn't that right, Holland?" The man shuddered. "Guess what? You got your wish." Angel looked at Darla, who was leering. She began to grip what was going on.
"Angelus?" she said expectantly. He smirked.
"Oh yeah baby. I'm back."
Drusilla began to wave her arms and make whimpering noises.
"Now all but one is back in the fold… but one has to be made whole…" she pierced Holland with her dark eyes. "…and we have a bad black sheep in our family." She looked at Angel and smiled broadly. "Should we slaughter the bad sheep?" A beat as Angel seemed to consider it.
"No, I think we should wait until Darla can join us." Holland realized that it was probably best to leave, but it was too late. As soon as he moved Drusilla walked close to him, humming her trademark gruesome lullaby.
"Run and catch, run and catch… the lamb is caught in the blackberry patch…" She grabbed him and moved two sharp nailed fingers up to his eyes.
"Make a wish, naughty lamb," she crooned. Angel grabbed Manner's by the shoulder and spun him around, away from Drusilla.
"No... no! Angel, we can… we can negotiate!"
Angel simply answered by knocking Holland flat on his back, leaving him unconscious. Drusilla smiled at him and started to take dance steps towards the mansions front door. Angel grabbed Holland and motioned for Darla to go inside.
"Home, sweet home, you've come home," Drusilla continued crooning as she went inside. Angel shook his head in amusement.
As soon as they had stepped inside Drusilla started to whimper and fell to the floor. Angel dropped Holland and listened to the satisfying thud as he made contact with the hard concrete floor before he came to Drusilla's aid.
"Dru? What is it?"
Drusilla shook her head and raised her hands, rocking herself back and forth where she sat on the hard stone floor.
"Worry… so much worry. My head… filled with it. Ooh, and so much pain. Helpless, empty pain."
Angel silently shook his head, just a tad annoyed. Drusilla was fine work, but thinking ahead he probably should have left her somewhat saner.
"What do you see?"
"Thick, thick walls could as well be windows… they see it all… they are coming… coming to destroy our new family. She's so empty… a shell..."
"She? Buffy?"
"She's coming for us… ooh, there will be… death."
"Well, of course there will," Angel said matter-of-factly. "I'm not planning to hit them with pillows if they come here."
"The slayer… she sees it all… They see it all."
Angel stared blankly at her for a second before it struck him. Cordelia – of course. She was going to have a vision. He should have killed that annoying whiner sooner.
"Well then If they're coming, I guess we better step up the pace." Angel turned to Darla, who was more than willing to proceed matters. She held away her shirt and exposed her neck. Her human, pulsating neck. Angel shuddered. It wasn't how he wanted to see his former sire. Well, at least he had the power to make her what she was again.
"Just do it, if she's right," Darla nodded towards Drusilla who was still shaking and rocking herself, "we don't have much time. Besides, we can't be sure that I come back tonight if you don't do it before the sun sets." Angel agreed.
"You're right." He switched into his gameface and moved close to Darla, caressing her bared throat. She moaned softly at this long wanted touch from him and moved her head to the side. Her right hand went to feel his face, the familiar ridges of his demonic features. Her work. And now, when she was weak and less than she should be, he was the one to restore her. It was sickenly poetic.
"Do it." Her voice was no more than a whisper. He moved his head to position and let his fangs penetrate her skin. She didn't even whimper. Even if she was currently human, she obviously remembered the feeling of being bitten by him, and the pain didn't of it… well, she didn't even experience it as pain. For a vampire, biting was a high form of sensual pleasure.
He drained her quickly, and just at the right moment, he stopped and he held her semi-conscious body tightly as he bit his own wrist and put it to her mouth. Without hesitation the dying Darla gripped his arm and drank, letting his blood flow into her mouth, down her throat… she felt her drained body slowly shut down, fading away from the worthless life she had led for a few months, but it didn't matter. When she awoke, she would be her again. She would be Darla.
"I'm tired of waiting."
Xander's words jolted them all out of their half-dazed state which they were currently in. They sat together in the Buffy's living room. Since Angel-or-possibly-Angelus had made his escape they had moved from the Magic Box as they wanted to be somewhere that Angel couldn't enter.
"What…" Buffy cleared her throat. "What do you suggest that we do then, Xander?"
"Well, for starters. Maybe we could stop sitting on our butts like stupid rabbits, waiting for the big bad wolf to come get us." Buffy shook her head.
"We're all tired, we don't need a useless confrontation with Angel."
"What about all the people he might murder in the meantime? You're the slayer Buffy, you should worry about them as well," Xander argued. Buffy shot him a look of hurt and anger. How could he even say that to her?
"Of course I worry about them. My God Xander, I've spent the last five years of my life worrying about the people every single big bad might hurt. The Master, Angel, Spike and Drusilla, The Judge, The Mayor, Faith, Adam, Dracula… Not to mention every single lesser vampire, demon and dark force in there between." She calmed down a little and lowered her voice. "I've lost family, and we've all lost friends. I won't put all of you on the line just to pummel Angel some more."
Xander didn't meet her gaze. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. But we have to confront him sooner or later, right? And I'm thinking rather sooner than later, for all we know he might be gathering world sucking hell demons as we speak!"
Buffy considered his words. She didn't want to imagine Angel, especially if he still had a part of his soul, go straight back in to the evil scheming, but at the same time she knew Xander could be right. He had attacked them to get away, and was clearly out of control. Who knew what he might be doing?
Before anyone had time to say anything else their gazes all turned to Cordelia who suddenly looked queasy, cried out in pain and shot her head back. Xander glared at her.
"Did you suddenly remember that Angel has an invitation to your car, or what?" he said mockingly, for the moment not processing the fact that Cordelia didn't actually even have a car of her own anymore. Wesley looked angrily at him.
"No! She's having a vision." Wesley scooted closer to Cordelia and held her as the vision went on.
"Cordelia, what did you see?" he asked her softly. As soon as she came to again, Cordelia looked at everyone in the room. Buffy, Gunn and Willow looked tired and worried, Xander was slightly embarrassed for the inappropriate snide remark, Giles was obviously about to clean his glasses, and Anya didn't even look at her. Wesley released his hold on her shoulders.
"Angel…" she began. Buffy sat up straight in her chair.
"Angel what?" she asked demandingly.
"Angel, he was in this big, dank house… that would be the mansion. There was gray haired man lying on the floor…he held a blond girl…" She looked at Buffy, her face dead serious. "He was turning her. There was another woman there…" She closed her eyes for a second in hope of getting a better image of her. She opened her eyes in horror when it struck her. "Oh God. Drusilla."
Everyone was dead silent for a moment.
"Drusilla?"
"Who's Drusilla?" Gunn asked, feeling left out. Everyone, with the possible exception for Anya who didn't look like she cared much, seemed to know who this Drusilla was.
"A, uh, a childe of Angel's," Wesley said silently. "Driven completely mad and sired by Angelus in the 1860th." Gunn nodded slowly.
"So they have a history together."
"One might say. However I don't see what business she could possibly be having here…"
"Are you really surprised?" Xander bit off, causing everyone to turn to him. "I mean, we all remember how obsessed Drusilla was with Angel the last time… Or, I mean, when he was bad a few years ago. He is her sire and all."
Buffy nodded. "He's right. It's not that surprising that Drusilla would sense what Angel is going through and come here. Doesn't really matter though. We can't save Drusilla, and I won't spare her this time. She's gonna have to die." She looked at Cordelia. "This blonde. Who is she, do you recognize her?"
Cordelia considered it for a moment. There was something with that woman… there was a vibe, a definite vibe between her and Angel. But she couldn't remember to have ever seen her. Who could she be?
"No… Angel has strong feelings for her though." Instinctively Buffy shot her head up.
"What? How do you know?"
"All in the great vision package. You get the skull crushing headaches, blurry pictures from the PTB and their special – you also feel the people in the vision. Sometimes there's smell to." Buffy furrowed her brow.
"Right. This settles it, we'll have to go after Angel in the mansion as soon as possible. We can't leave this any longer. If he's siring someone, it can't be good."
"You see, I was right," Xander said. "He is recruiting sucking demons, only not exactly like I said."
She felt such hunger.
It was stronger than any human hunger or craving. She could hear a heartbeat somewhere in her presence. A heartbeat so faint, yet like a loud drum in her ears.
She cracked her eyes open and sat up as she gasped, sucking in an unnecessary breath. The first breath in her un-life. Well, this time around anyway. It had been nearly 400 years since she felt like this the last time… The power flowing through her, all her senses sharpened, the easy and intoxicating feeling of soullessness.
And the hunger. As a human she had felt hunger, occasionally, but this was nothing like it. This was a bloodthirsty predator inside her that lived for the hunt and the kill.
Her Angelus stood only a few feet away from her. She smiled. She didn't even know how her boy had come back yet. She didn't need to know, she didn't care. Her darling boy… She raised a hand to touch him, but her hand froze in the air.
No… This wasn't HER Angelus. It wasn't the whimpering and souled version either. She could se an unwelcome sparkle in his eyes, but it wasn't nearly as strong as it has been when he'd killed her, that night years ago. Well, she would have to get all of those things straightened out later. The important thing was that she was back, and that he was with her. If he still had a little of his soul in him, well, she could fix that.
"Angelus…" she began tryingly. He smiled at her, willingly accepting her calling him by his old name. His real name.
"Darla. Finally awake, hm? Hungry?" He bent down, grabbed the now awake but gagged Holland Manners. He pulled of the gag.
"Angel, please, think about this," the man rambled. "Think about the consequences."
"You'll be dead? Seems like a fine consequence," Angel sneered.
"We-we can negotiate. My position in Wolfram & Hart is a strong one. I'm President of the Special Projects Division, if you just let me go…"
"You'll go back to the little law firm on the prairie and make my unlife an unliving hell?" Angel shook his head. "Some fine convincing you have going there, counselor. Gee, and you call yourself a lawyer."
"Angel, please…"
"Shut up." Without a flinch or a second's doubt Angel hit Holland over the face, splitting his lip. A bruise was going to form over his mouth soon – well, at least it would if he wouldn't be dead by then. Darla smiled broadly at the display of ruthlessness. It had been so long…
"Really tired of these suit clad annoyances," he muttered. "Let's just eat and be on our way," Angel said simply and morphed, as did Darla.
Angel bit down on the left side of Holland's neck, Darla on his right. The old man didn't taste that well, but still, his hot blood gave her nice strength, making the demon surge with new life and power. She could feel the foul memories of her short time as a human wash away with every gulp. She was feeling like her old self again.
The meal didn't last long though, as Holland quickly became limp and stopped breathing. Just moments after that they could hear his pulse fade away as his heart started to beat slower, until it stopped completely. Darla pushed the body away and leaped to her feet. She stretched out and circled Angel.
"Well… that was unsatisfying. Let's go find something better," she purred. Angel went past her. She grabbed him hard and whirled him around. He let her. Her move wasn't playful or gentle – but then again, their relationship never had been.
"But not until you tell me why you seem to have a soul, Angelus," she hissed, looking deeply into his eyes. It was deeply confusing. He looked like her boy, but at the same time there was something in his gaze that made her uncomfortable, something that wasn't right. He couldn't have mellowed after a century with the soul pressing down on him? That thought was even more disturbing; that he might really be his true self, that this was as bad she would get him.
Drusilla circled them both.
"Pss…pss…pss…pss… Naughty red head tried to cage daddy with cotton bars… She should know daddy can't be sealed in."
Darla looked at Angel demandingly. "What is she talking about, Angelus? You better explain this to me, right now." He just glared back at her, impatiently.
"Long story. The gist of it is, I have a little of my soul left, but it'll be gone soon." Darla opened her mouth, as if she was about to say something. "We don't have time for that now. That's all you need to know. I'll give you the long version later."
"Well, it works for me." Darla narrowed her eyes. She wouldn't trust him completely as long as she could smell the reek of a soul on him, but she was a strong vampire, she would be able to hold her own if he tried something.
"That," she indicated Manner's, "left a horrible aftertaste. Let's go out and get something fresh."
