Here's the latest. This one is probably the longest chapter to date, but I didn't see any reason in disrupting the story with two different chapters. Anyway, we're entering the home stretch now. I think one or two chapters is all we like, three if I decide to drag the story a little farther. Enjoy.
Senator Brucker's office was a good thirty minute drive across town. Rather than jacking one of Angel's cars, he led Kennedy to the employee garage and to his new pride and joy: the solid black 2004 Chevrolet Z71. He always had a thing for trucks. The ride to the office had been burdened by a heavy silence. It made Gunn... uncomfortable to say the least. He didn't like the idea of fighting off a pack of vampires without knowing at least something about the person backing him up.
"So you're a Slayer too, huh?"
"Yes... I am..." came the mumbled reply. Kennedy's gaze remained out the passenger window, watching the dim street lights pass by. She didn't like the thought of Willow being anywhere near that blue leathery... thing.
"That must be some kinda trip... super strength and all..."
This time there was no response. He let out a muted sigh.
"So... you and Willow... you guys pretty close?"
Kennedy's head immediately snapped around, eyeing Gunn closely.
"Is there some sorta problem here, because..."
"No! No!" Gunn replied defensively. "No problem at all. Hell, some people like their cucumbers pickled..."
"What the hell does that mean?" Kennedy's blood pressure was beginning to rise. She didn't enjoy her personal life being the conversation of a complete stranger.
"Now that you mention it... I don't really know. Heard someone say it back when I was a kid... thought it sounded pretty cool. It sounded a lot cooler in my head." With that, Gunn flashed Kennedy a goofy little smile. It got a chuckle out of the Slayer. It was a start.
"You really believe this Jake guy, don't you?" This time, there was no hint of humor in his statement.
"Yeah... I guess I do. He's way too involved for it to be some kinda trick. Why, you don't?"
"I don't know," was Gunn's reply. It was the truth. Gunn had spent most of his life growing up on the streets. Taking people at face value was a very risky game. One that, more often than not, got you in trouble. He couldn't shake his instincts about this man. But if he was there to fight, then what harm was there in one more soldier. They were going to need all the help they could get. Easing the truck to a stop, Gunn looked out the window to the Senator's office right across the street. He could feel that familiar rush of adrenaline begin to seep up his spine. It had been quite awile sense he had got unleash some pent up fury. No time for it when you're wading through mountains of litigation. He didn't know which he hated worse, vampires or politicians. Luckily, he got to take 'em both out tonight. Opening the door of his truck, he turned back toward Kennedy, flashing that same goofy smile he had worn moments ago.
"Let's cowboy up."
Izzerial felt like he was on top of the world. It had been quite a day for the Devil. He had successfully drawn Angel into the Circle of the Black Thorn. The Champion for the Powers That Be was officially playing for the dark side now. And, if that wasn't reward enough, he had even got the vampire to sign away that pesky Shanshu clause. Now, with no hope of gaining humanity, Angel was officially entrenched in the Senior Partners' camp. Leading his associates to their car, he paused to enjoy the night air. Life was indeed good.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. His first thought was indigestion, but not even demon indigestion hurt this damn bad. He slowly looked down to his chest and was horrified to find a crossbow bolt neatly inserted in his upper rib cage. It had only been a split second, but the pain was searing. He could feel his throat and lungs filling with blood as he stared dumbfounded at the wound. Then, like a strike of lightning, two more bolts implanted themselves in his chest, ripping themselves into his lungs again. Slumping to his knees, he caught a glimpse of a pair of knee high leather boots walking his way. He thought of what a great day it had been... he wanted to curse this day now, but the darkness came for him before he had the chance.
Buffy looked on from the shadows, trying desperately to stifle a grin that was spreading across her face. Seeing Spike, platinum hair and punk rock styling, completely covered in the ceremonial robe of the Fell Brethren was definitely a sight to behold. She clutched her Scythe in both hands, standing far enough in the shadows to avoid detection. She saw Spike stop at the bassinet, remove his hood, and scoop up the infant. One of the Brethren noticed this, and had moved directly between Buffy and Spike.
"You will return the vessel..." the voice boomed.
"Right," Spike replied dryly. Before he could even unleash his sword, the Brethren's head was quickly removed from its shoulders. Behind the body stood Buffy, her Scythe still humming.
"Never let a bloke have the fun, do ya luv?"
"Maybe later..." she replied grinning. The commotion had caught the attention of the rest of the Brethren, who were now moving their way to stop the intruders. Placing the baby back in the confines of the bassinet, Spike pulled forth his sword and grinned at Buffy.
"Right then. Shall we?"
"Faith. How... delightful to see you again."
"I figured you boys could use a hand down here in LA. Cleveland gets a little boring." Faith began to make her way towards the three who had just been released from the wizard's grip.
"Willow... are you alright?" Wesley inquired. It was the first time she had heard a bit of concern in his voice since they had left Angel's office.
"Yeah. I think so," came the shaking redhead's voice. Truth was, she wasn't alright. She thought that she had mastered the darker side of the magicks that flowed through her. But, feeling them begin to take over and being helpless to stop it, scared the living hell out of her. How could she help face down an army of pure evil, when one sorcerer had brought her to her knees so easily?
"Fred? Is that you? Gotta say, I'm diggin' the leather look. Blue hair is a bit much, but..."
"Illyria," Wesley cut in roughly.
"Come again?"
"Illyria," Wesley replied, clearing his throat while trying to push Fred's name out of his mind. "Her name is Illyria. She's an ancient god-king who..." Wesley's voice trailed off. He couldn't bring himself to finish the story.
"I ruled over this plane with an iron fist. In my day, every being bowed to my name. But I'm now a mere shell of my former self, stripped of my powers and forced to wade through this wretched existence in the guise of a mere human."
For once in her life, Faith was too shocked to speak. She honestly had no idea what to say. She always figured something terrible would happen when she learned Angel and crew had taken the reins of Evil Incorporated. She never thought something this bad would happen.
"It's a rather complicated story Faith. One that I do not have the time nor the bearing to recount. Besides, we have more pressing matters to settle."
"Always a battle..." Faith responded, finally regaining a few of her bearings.
"Not just any battle Faith... this is the battle," came the quiet voice to her left. God Willow looked awful! Whatever that thing was, it had done a major number on the Wicca. She didn't look like she was in any shape to be fighting.
"Willow, you look like you just got hit by a big rig full of bad mojo, are you sure..."
"Let's go," the redhead cut in, slowly limping past the Slayer towards the mansion door.
The car ride to the Hyperion was drenched in silence. Wesley looked like a statue, eyes set upon the road and hands firmly gripping the steering wheel. Illyria knew that Fred's name was the cause. The witch known as Willow and the woman known as Faith sat in equal silence behind her. So this was the woman that Wesley was to love? She was the woman that would give birth to the Warrior of Light? Illyria was not impressed. She felt a quiet rage begin to come over her. These human emotions that had begun to swirl through her head were unbearing. She believed this one was known as... envy. How could her guide so easily fall out of love with the Burkle persona? She had watched him fall apart since her arrival, but he had always promised to be her guide. To help her through this menacing existence. It seemed that he would soon abandon her. She had been reserved to silence since the man known as Jacob had attempted to kill her earlier that day. He had spoken of her rise to power. The idea intrigued her. She despised being stripped of what rightfully belonged to her. But according to her assassin, tonight that would change. She could command the armies of the Wolf, Ram, and Hart. She could stem the tide of battle, and regain all she had lost. And the pathetic humans had brought her the Key. She sensed its power. She could reshape this world with it. The humans that so feebly wanted to protect it wanted her dead. She would not oblige them. She would fight this war against the Wolf, Ram, and Hart. Above all else, she loathed their rise to power in her absence. But she would not allow herself to be a sacrifice to the Powers That Be. If Wesley could not protect her, she would simply kill those that attempted to end her fate. She did not intend to die tonight.
Jake turned his attention to the figure casually walking towards both he and Angel. Marcus Hamilton. Liaison to the Senior Partners. How tough was this guy going to be?
"Well, y'know what they say... you just can't keep a good guy down."
Hamilton smirked.
"I'm sure we can remedy that. I hear you have a name and a story now, weary traveler. Rumor has it that you're here from the future... that you're a warrior for the Powers. I have to say... they could have done much better."
With a bat of an eye, Jake whipped out his trusty pistols and unloaded two rounds from each gun in the man's direction. All four shots hit home, sinking into Hamilton's chest. The man didn't budge.
"Aww hell..." Jake drawled.
He and Angel both sprang into action. Angel was the first to reach the man, missing with two successive punches before Hamilton simply backhanded him across the floor. Jake was next, catching Hamilton with a solid left across the face followed by a right and then a kick to the midsection. There was no reaction.
"Didn't even make a dent, did I?"
"No."
With that, Jake was sent flying across the room by a single punch. He crashed on top of the table, splintering it under the force of his impact. He immediately tasted the warm metallic liquid that was dripping from his lip.
"Sumbitch hits hard," he mumbled.
Again, it was Angel's turn. The vampire landed a few shots of his own, but again they took no effect. He managed to dodge one punch, but couldn't dodge the kick that followed. He too was sent skidding across the floor, coming to a stop at Jake's feet.
"I did beat this guy last time, right?" Angel asked as he slowly pulled himself to his feet. He had a large gash above his left eye and blood was beginning to trickle freely down the side of his face.
"Yeah... I think so..." was Jake's reply.
"Mind tellin' me how?"
"I... uhhh... don't really know. Looks like we'll have to find out the hard way."
Again, the two leapt into action, and again the two would have been better off fighting a brick wall. Hamilton swatted both of their attacks away with ease, dodging a punch and landing a headbutt that surely broke Angel's nose, then catching Jake with a nasty looking punch to the ribs. Jake heard the crack and felt the air rush out of him. They were busted, and he was in pain, slumping to the floor.
"So... the mighty Powers That Be send a cowboy back to save the day? What a joke."
With that, Hamilton simply kicked Jake in his busted ribs, catapulting him off the ground and into a stone pillar across the way.
"And Angel... why do you fight? You have nothing left to gain. You signed your precious humanity away. You cannot defeat us. We are forever."
"I guess I just didn't have anything better to do," Angel replied, steadying himself for another charge. Hamilton smiled, but his face quickly contorted with pain when a broadsword was thrust through his back. Shocked, he looked down to see himself impaled.
"Me neither," came a voice from behind Hamilton. It was Connor. Hamilton roared, then backhanded the boy across the room. He came to a skidding stop by his father.
"Connor... what the hell are you doing here?"
"Well... I'm asking myself that same question."
Jake saw the scene unfolding before him. He had pulled himself upright on the battered remains of the pillar. He was bleeding pretty bad and his ribs felt like they had been caved in, but he had to press on. He couldn't die here. Not yet. He watched as Hamilton reached wildly around, trying to pull the sword from his back.
"Let's finish this," he rasped as he dove at Hamilton, successfully planting the heel of his boot to Hamilton's lower back. The man howled in pain and swung wildly at Jake. He dodged easily, then landed another kick to the back. It brought Hamilton to his knees. Suddenly, Angel was back in the mix, landing two kicks to Hamilton's stomach. The man doubled over in agony. Jake locked eyes with Angel, and the vampire nodded. Jake pulled free his blade and brought it crashing down on Hamilton's neck, Roman execution style. Hamilton's screams were cut off, as he began to gag on his own blood. With one mighty twist, Angel snapped the man's neck, and watched as the liaison fell lifeless to the floor.
"Well... that way is as good as any..." Jake bit out, clutching his ribs and falling to one knee. As he hit the ground, the room began to quake violently.
"This can't be good," Connor remarked.
"Get out of here son... NOW!"
"Angel... no... we need him," Jake growled between sharp breaths.
"I will NOT risk my son in this fight!"
Jake pulled himself to his feet, he took a few well calculated steps towards the bleeding vampire.
"We need him Angel. He's the only that can protect Dawn if we fail."
Angel eyed the man closely, the quaking building and debris falling seemed to fade off in the background. This guy was convincing, he had to concede that. But he was one helluva fighter, and he hadn't been wrong yet. Besides, the man was right. If anything Jake had said earlier was going to come true, Illyria would go after Dawn. Connor was probably the only one strong enough to protect her.
"Fine. Let's get out of here,"
The three made their way to the door as quickly as they could. Half running, half limping into the lobby, the three saw Eve staring at the ceiling?
"What's happening?" she asked, unable to mask the terror in her voice.
"I think we just got the pink slip, Eve. Time to go..."
"What about..."
"He's there Eve. Let's get to the Hyperion..."
The small group that stood outside the Hyperion looked ragged. Faith, Willow, Wesley, and Illyria had been the first to arrive. Kennedy and Gunn had shown up shortly after. Both were a bit battered, but only Gunn was bleeding, and even it was only from a few small gashes across his arms. Kennedy and Willow immediately shared an embrace, Willow shaking violently from her ordeal with Vail and from the driving rain. Wesley couldn't quite make out what the two were saying, their voices drowned out in the downpour. He hoped it was reassurance. As much as the sight of Willow cut him to the quick, they would obviously need her in this fight. Buffy and Spike were next, both covered in blood, but apparently not their own. It appeared the two had saved the infant. They however were leaned against the aging brick wall to their left, noticeably exhausted.
"Nice to you finally show up, Faith." Buffy exclaimed between breaths.
"Yeah well, I guess the Slayer hotline is down, cause I know I didn't get a call from you B."
"Wasn't my call."
"Yeah right... since when did anybody but Queen Buff start callin' the shots."
"Since the Powers That Be stepped in," came a voice stepping into view. Lorne, with Lindsey in tow.
"I know you..." Faith growled, taking a step closer to the ex-lawyer. Wesley immediately stepped between the two.
"As disappointed as I am that Lindsey survived, he's fighting for our side. For tonight, anyway."
Faith took a step back. Had she woke up in Bizarro world? Fred was gone, neither Buffy nor Angel was calling the shots, and Evil Inc.'s top-dog lawyer was now fighting the good fight?
"Ever'body here?" came the Southern drawl emerging from the rain. The figure was limping fairly bad. The blood from his multiple gashes streaked his face as the rain tried like hell to wash it away. Angel came into view beside him, looking as bad if not worse. He didn't sport the limp, but his nose looked as if it had been a blood spigot that had been opened to full pour. Faith immediately noticed the first man, the one sporting the tattered felt hat and faded brown duster.
"Who's the cowboy? He's kinda ho..."
"Hold that thought sweetcheeks," Lorne whispered into her ear, cutting her off in mid-sentence. "That's your son."