Author's Notes: I have no good excuse for the delay in this chapter. Let's hope I get better at being less late. Since I am so happy to actually have a new chapter, I'm getting it right out here. It may have changes in the future. I'll let you know about anything major.
Summary: Previously, Gnash met his new ally Tara, now merged with the demon Tapas. Spike flirted with Buffy while Connor convinced her to let him stay at her house rather than the mansion. Anya and Willow brought Xander home from the hell-dimension with a little unexpected help from Tara. Willow met the new Tara and was worried that she had lost her for good.
Chapter 10: Inner Strengths and Weaknesses
It was time. Well, more precisely, it was the only good time. Eventually Willow would regain her power and restore the spell she'd use to track magic events. Gnash didn't know how long he had before that happened, so he couldn't wait around hoping it would be a while. Angelus might not be totally ready, but nonetheless, Gnash would have to bring him back now. He sighed tiredly. The change in his plans necessitated a slight change in his motis operandi and that included less rest for him. Instead of bringing Angelus another meal, he'd leave the meal here, and Angelus could eat when he'd recovered from the dimensional travel. That had dictated preparing a room where no one outside would be able to hear anything and where the vampire could be contained until Gnash thought he was fit enough to leave.
Securing the woman's wrists, he tested the strength of the chains. Good, they'd do. Gnash wasn't in the mood to be here when she woke up, not really being in the mood to hear a good scream any more today. He had enough to worry about. He had to decide the best way to get Angelus here. It was one thing to send someone to another dimension; it was quite another thing to summon them from one, especially one without any magic energy. No, he'd have to do this the hard way. He'd have to go there, carry something to contain his magic, and drag Angelus back with him. He didn't anticipate the vampire would go quietly either, though he'd think graciousness should count for something. Well, that was vampires for you. Grace applied to their movements only.
Gnash decided maybe he'd take a spell to render Angelus unconscious as well. That would make getting him back here and locking him in easier. Problem solved. Securing the door to the makeshift storage for his new ally, Gnash smiled. Time to get to work.
...
The front door swung open before Buffy could fit the key in the lock. A soft, yellow glow poured out onto the porch, bathing them in light. It seemed almost serene, well for about a second anyway.
"Where've you been? Willow's been calling and calling. Because they got Xander back! But I think something's wrong. Not with Xander. It's something else. Oh, but don't call, 'cause they went home, and Willow said she'll tell you about it tomorrow when she gets some rest, because you know, tired from the spell. And it's late anyway, and no more deadline, because Xander's back! And oh, who is this?"
Buffy looked at Dawn in the doorway, and a slight smile crept onto her face. "I'm impressed," she teased. "I don't think you took a break once during that entire thing. Good use of hand gestures, too. And this is Angel's son, Connor. He'll be staying here for a while."
Dawn looked Connor over and smiled. "Cool," she breathed, and then as if catching herself she added with a shrug, "I mean, yeah sure."
Angel shifted his weight on the step, reminding Buffy that he was there. Sometimes she forgot how quiet he was. Spike would've made some snide comment by now, wondering if Dawn was going to let him in or did she plan to toast marshmallows over him when he burst into flames. All Angel did was cast his eyes to the horizon, assessing how much time he had before sunrise.
"Dawn, as nice as it is outside, we need to come in. The sun's gonna be up," she reminded her sister on Angel's behalf.
Dawn shook her head, tearing her gaze away from Connor. She seemed to look at Buffy a moment before she actually processed what she said. "Oh, yeah right, you have to come inside. Does Connor need an invite?" she asked.
"He's not a vampire," Buffy assured her.
"Well, come on in anyway," Dawn said as she moved aside. Then she furrowed her forehead before widening her eyes a bit. "Not that I'm disappointed you're not a vampire or anything, 'cuz well, that's Buffy's thing not mine. Not that there's anything wrong with it. It's just that well, being Angel's son and all I assumed…"
Buffy put her hand on her sister's shoulder. "Let me guess. You got into the coffee again?" she kidded her.
"I wanted to tell you the good news, so I needed caffeine to stay up," Dawn confirmed. She gave Buffy a sheepish grin before extracting herself from the sisterly contact. She closed the door now that Angel and Connor were inside, locking it immediately out of habit.
"Well, thank you," Buffy told her. "I'm glad you told me, and I'm really glad that Xander is back, but now we have to get cleaned up, because Connor was the only one who got to totally wash up at our mansion detour. And whatever Willow has to tell us, I'm sure I won't want to be tired for it, so some sleep is in order. For you too."
"Okay, but now I'm not sure I can sleep ever again," Dawn lamented.
"Coffee is evil," Connor said.
"I think you may be right," Dawn replied.
"No, really," he teased with a small smile. "It all comes from an evil hell dimension. How else would you explain Starbucks?"
Dawn gave him a wide-eyed "you're kidding" look before she figured out that he was joking.
Buffy smiled and felt her heart melt at the insane cuteness of it all. "Why don't you and Connor go into the kitchen and find him something to eat while I fix up the guest room."
"Okay," Dawn said as she headed for the kitchen. "It's this way." She turned back over her shoulder to throw a "Hey Angel, hey Spike," in Angel's direction, as she pushed the kitchen door open.
"Let me take your stuff upstairs," Angel offered, and Connor nodded, handing over his weapons bag and pack of clothes, before following Dawn lazily into the kitchen.
"And no chocolate puffs," Buffy called after her sister.
"As if!" Dawn almost wailed in teenage embarrassment, and Buffy grinned, imagining much eye rolling and maligning of her character behind the kitchen walls.
Angel shook his head, his gaze on the kitchen door. "I see trouble."
"Aw come, on it's cute," Buffy said with a mock pout.
Angel couldn't help but give a small smile. "Which leads to trouble." Then he put on a more serious expression. "I'll make sure to talk to him. Connor's not exactly your average boy, and…"
"Oh? Actually, I think the favored pastime of killing demons kinda gave that away," she teased as she headed for the stairs. "But that's okay. Dawn has me for a sister. She's not a clueless in that area. Not to mention she was friends with Spike even before he and you shared a soul." She looked meaningfully over her shoulder at Angel as he followed her up the stairs.
Angel appeared to be contemplating that disturbing bit of info. "Hmm. Maybe it's Connor I should worry about."
Smiling, Buffy shook her head and dug into the linen closet, extracting some clean sheets. Angel followed her into the bedroom, watching her as she put them on and helping her tuck the corners. When his eyes met hers, serious and concerned, she closed her own eyes to break the gaze. "Don't. Not tonight, okay?" She didn't want to think about Angelus right now and maybe, just maybe, if he didn't say it, she could forget again. At least for a little while.
...
The sun rose gracefully over a nature park in a less populated part of town. An old oak towered over the hilltop clearing, coloring the tall, wild grass below with long, jagged patterns. The shadows might've been fuller and smoother if the tree had been healthy, but the gnarled, old thing had no leaves, and the bark was falling away; death marring an otherwise perfect scene. Tara stared, supposing that in its own way, the dead tree was beautiful, but it wouldn't last. It didn't belong here. In a different landscape, this tree would be perfect: a home for woodpeckers and raccoons. Here though, it only would be torn down, it's decaying, falling branches a potential hazard to patrons of the hilltop park. Looking at the painted orange "X" on its trunk, Tara made her decision. This tree had too much of a story to let it end.
She closed her eyes and imagined the tree as it might've been not too long ago with green, full leaves and a strong trunk. Its limbs would stretch towards the sky, and its roots would reach deep into the earth. The bark she wouldn't imagine as new though. She'd rather keep it weathered, including the scattered imperfections and scars left as remembrances by lovers past. She wanted to restore life to the tree and give it a chance to remain, not diminish its history. Smiling at her mental picture, Tara took a deep breath and placed her hands on the rough bark. The contact wasn't necessary, but it felt right. She wanted a connection with this once living thing, to feel it come to life again.
As the power gathered around her, she could sense the demon inside her tense with anticipation, the excitement like that of holding an exquisitely wrapped gift in the moment before tearing the paper away. The demon lived for these moments, longing only for her to revel in her magic. Despite sharing her body, Tara felt free. For so long she'd held back, denying herself, afraid to use her full potential for fear that she'd lose herself to darkness. That no longer mattered, the distinction diminished in the face of what good she could do. Would a little darkness matter in the face of so much potential light? Somehow she'd make sure it didn't. And right now, restoring this tree was what she wanted to do. Would it change the world? It was highly unlikely, but someone somewhere would enjoy the shade of this tree or delight in the memory of a carved, heart-shaped message, and that was worth something.
Her demon seemed to agree. Already Tara sensed that he was happiest when she felt good about what she was doing. She knew that she felt it now, even as the power left her body in a painful jolt to enter the trunk of the tree. The hurt was small compared to the feeling of bringing this entity back to life. She let go even more, and the magic energy rushed up the trunk, infusing through the bark and winding its way into each branch. Twigs sprouted and leaves appeared, not completely formed, but as if they were growing from buds then unfurling. Before long, the tree once again stood tall and healthy. Opening her eyes, Tara smiled broadly at the wonder of life she'd created before sinking to the ground. It was getting easier, she could tell, and her recovery would likely be swift, but she wasn't ready to leave. She'd bask here in the glow of rejuvenated life for a bit while her demon enjoyed the afterglow of the magic rush. He wasn't in a hurry either it seemed. Tara decided that maybe they'd get along just fine.
...
On the other side of town, Angelus woke to an all encompassing ache, groaning as he shifted to his side. He didn't have to open his eyes to know that he was no longer in that shit-hole of a dimension anymore. The smooth feel of the floor beneath him confirmed it. That also explained his current sorry state. Yes, he remembered this feeling: not that much unlike the last time he'd been whipped through the dimensions. This time, it was likely just one dimension, but somehow his discomfort was the same. He chalked that up to his now returning memory of getting hit full in the chest with some serious magic that knocked him unconscious. He supposed there was a good reason for that, guessing he'd find himself in a nice sturdy cage or locked room. His view when he opened his eyes seemed to confirm that assessment. Fucking demon.
He closed his eyes again, imagining all sorts of appropriate revenge on the large, green demon, but he let it fade after a few inventive scenarios. At least he was in Sunnydale. He'd get out of here eventually, and… was that a human he smelled? Nice and ripe and full of fear. Angelus smiled. Maybe Gnash wasn't so bad after all.
...
Buffy's mouth tightened as she heard Willow's explanation. As a distraction, she tried to think of other emotions while at the same time still listening. She thought of how she felt this morning, knowing that Dawn and Connor were safe. She remembered the peace of falling into a deep sleep and waking to a lovely morning in Angel's arms. Then the day had only gotten better when she'd hugged Xander so tight that he'd complained of her slayer strength. Remembering these things should've helped to soften her emotions, but somehow, they just made her angrier. And it was all Willow's fault. For one brief moment things had been going well. Sure, soon enough, whatever evil had been plotting to hurt them by releasing demons and bringing Angelus back would raise its ugly head and bite them in the ass, but right now it wasn't the evil that was ruining everything. It was Willow, and she'd done it by doing something she'd promised not to do. No matter how Buffy looked at it, it all boiled down to that. She wanted to hold up her hands and say "no more", to make Willow's words stop, but she sat there instead, mesmerized by the badness of what her friend was describing.
Willow was sorry. Willow was devastated. Buffy could hear it in her voice as she tried to explain why she'd done what she had, yet somehow that didn't help. Buffy still felt betrayed, and she felt trapped. Everyone was expecting her to be forgiving, to be comforting. That was what friends were supposed to do, but right now it was taking all of her effort not to scream accusations. Buffy knew they wouldn't help. She wanted to do it anyway. Didn't you learn anything from dragging me back from heaven? Shouldn't you have at least told someone what you were planning to do? God, are you ever going to learn? She managed to scream them in her mind only, her face a closed book.
It wasn't that she didn't understand, because she did, all too well actually. Buffy knew what it was to take on the hero roll, to try to save the day. The difference was she didn't crave it. She even felt guilty about it sometimes when she decided what course of action she thought best, because sometimes, it turned out not to be the case, but did Willow even consider that? Or did she just consider the benefits, imagining how everyone would react when she saved the day? Buffy didn't like thinking this about Willow, but somehow the thoughts wouldn't go away. And she had no one she could tell them too without looking like the bad guy.
"Buffy? Buffy, say something, please."
Buffy blinked, potential answers running through her mind. What do you want me to say, Willow? You're forgiven for maybe ruining Tara's life in a rash attempt to save Xander that turned out to be pointless? You screwed up yet again, but it's okay, because I'm sure you won't do it next time? Buffy forced on a sad smile and met Willow's pleading gaze. "We'll get Tara back, Willow. I'm sure you'll find a way."
"I will. I know I will," Willow said. "I'll start researching right now, and I won't stop until I find something."
Taking a long breath through her nose, Buffy gritted her teeth behind her encouraging smile. She forced her jaw to unclench. "I'll help in a little while. There's something I have to do first." She headed for the training room.
...
Angel's gut instinct told him to follow Buffy. She didn't even notice that he was behind her until she turned to close the door. Seeing him, her eyes flashed with barely suppressed emotion, and something inside Angel responded. Vague memories clouded his brain, and it didn't take Angel long to decide that he would try to handle this himself, but he wouldn't push it. In all likelihood, he would end up bowing out. He loved Buffy, but he knew she was different now. Sometimes a hug and soft words weren't enough anymore. Sometimes she needed to feel flesh pounded beneath her fists, and that was something he couldn't do for her. She wouldn't with him, not entirely. Angel reached behind him and closed the door.
Buffy's eyes shifted towards the back door of the training room. Angel could feel her tension in the air between them. A few quick steps and she'd be outside in the sunlight where he couldn't follow, bottling her emotions inside or taking them out on demons who wouldn't be around to judge her later but wouldn't really be able to help her either. When she made her move, he blocked her path, grabbing her arms. "You did the right thing Buffy." He ignored the vague feeling in his brain that seemed to say "Hogwash!" except in more colorful terms, wishing he could smack Spike upside the head sometimes, but he conceded a bit by adding, "For Willow. Nothing you wanted to say would've been helpful right now. Maybe later when it's not so raw. Maybe then you can talk to her about this."
Buffy crossed her arms beneath his grip. "I suppose you know what I wanted to say, then, hmm?"
"I have a pretty good idea."
"And I suppose you think I'm a bitch for wanting to say it? Or a hypocrite maybe?"
Woah, woah, Angel thought, alarm bells ringing in his head. He was way too deep, too fast. He released her arms, letting her feel as if she'd regained some control. "Nothing like that at all. Willow was wrong. I know it, and I know you know it, but telling her that now won't do any good… and that's not what you need to hear right now, because you know all that," he added, because he suddenly knew it was true. This was more than her being mad at Willow. She was mad at herself for being mad at Willow, and very likely no amount of talking was going to alleviate that. He'd done what he could, but it was time for more active measures.
Angel conceded and let Spike forward. Just before he faded, he had a pretty good idea he was going to regret this later, but the best way to get Buffy not to be mad at herself was…
"Screw Willow, pet. She got what she deserved."
Buffy's eyes flashed and she gripped her arms even tighter. "How can you, of all people, say that?" she accused, her eyes furious.
"Easy, cuz it's true." She gritted her teeth in response, holding back, and Spike thought come on. Don't make me say something I'll regret. Yeah, you don't like that you sometimes have to do this, and yeah, we could likely talk it out if we had a few hours, but believe me this is much less painful. For both of us. She made another move towards the back door, and Spike was grateful. He wouldn't have to resort to harsh words. He blocked her path. "Ah ah, pet. I'm not gonna let you do that. We'll either talk this out, or we'll do it the easy way."
That earned him a surprised look, and her hands moved to her hips. "You'd rather I knock you senseless than talk this out?"
"Well, yeah, and this surprises you, pet?" He arched an eyebrow at her, and feeling confident that he had her attention for the moment, he took a step back. "If I had my druthers between a long, drawn out, potentially mushy, mamby pamby conversation and a good, knock down drag out, well come on, which do you really think I'd choose?" He snorted. "Talking on and on is the poofter's thing. I can bring him back if you like. I'll just go back in there and think of something more interesting. Like paint drying."
Spike was surprised to see her smile at this before she crossed her arms and gave him a challenging look. "So my pain is boring to you, huh?"
"Never said that, pet. You've got a legitimate beef here. 's just talking's not what's gonna do it for you right now, and seeing as it's daylight with no vamps to slay…"
He titled his head over towards the large punching bag. "Come on. It's okay. I won't tell a soul." He leaned toward her conspiratorially as he said the last.
"You're a jerk, Spike," she huffed, but she stomped over to the punching bag anyway.
He took his position behind the bag, holding it for her. "That I am, love. That I am."
...
In his own, secluded room, Angelus looked over his newest potential meal. Still unconscious, the girl lay against the wall haphazardly, her manacled wrists hanging limply by her sides. Though he did enjoy screaming, crying, pleading, he was glad for the moment that she was asleep. He could study her this way. The girl bore a partial resemblance to her. She was a bit too tall and curvy, but the blond hair, the thin frame, and the feminine attire all reminded him of his former lover. No, not his former lover, not by choice anyway. He'd been there all right, but he'd had no say in the act itself, the soft caresses, and the lovelorn whispers. The thought of it now made him want to shudder, but then again, the result hadn't been so bad, not at all.
Hunching down beside her to take a closer look, he traced his hands in the air over her form, first her hair then her arm, waist, hip, and lastly her leg. Feeling her warmth, watching her breathing slowly, and hearing her blood pulsing through her veins, Angelus wanted nothing more than to tear into her flesh and drink, but he wouldn't. He'd wait until she woke, and even the he'd be patient when she did, because… Taking a startled breath, a smile drew across his lips as it came to him. She looked enough like her that he could pretend. He could act out what he planned to do to her, and he planned no quick and easy end for Buffy Summers. No, he was too much of an artist for that.
Angelus drew back from her, uncurling gracefully. In the corner he located the basin of water, soap, and a wash cloth that he'd seen in his earlier look at his prison. Clean clothes sat beside them. Listening always for any change in the girl's breathing that might indicate she was waking, he set about cleaning himself up. Not needing to see for such a menial, often preformed task, he closed his eyes and imagined. Pain was too ordinary, something Buffy knew already, something she'd expect. Maybe later there would be pain, but first… First he'd make her face one of her deepest, darkest secrets: that she'd want him still. Sure Angel was there with her now, but he didn't look like her Angel. Her Angel was dark, tall, broad, and could wrap his body around hers in a protective embrace that his useless get never could. He could make her want that again, make her quiver with desire. She'd know it was him, Angelus, and he'd never want her to forget that part, but he'd be so soft, so persuasive that her body wouldn't care.
It would take planning, and likely she'd struggle at first, but once he got his arms around her, pinning her, he'd look her in the eyes with such sincerity that she'd hesitate, just for that crucial moment. He'd move in, whisper in her ear. Shh, I'm not going to hurt you, Buffy. We don't have to fight anymore. A hand would tentatively loosen its grip and caress her arm. You must know I only fought you, because I didn't want to face how much I wanted you, but I don't want to fight it anymore. A shivering kiss to the sensitive spot behind her ear, another to her neck, listening to that fearful intake of breath in anticipation of a bite that wouldn't come, not yet. You know I'm part of him. And you know this is what you want, what you need. He's not enough for you. The hand would slowly slide from her arm to brush the side of her breast. You're so beautiful. I can be soft for you, Buffy. And he would at first, too. Yes, it would be difficult, but one must suffer a little for great art, and this would be a masterpiece.
The seduction would have to be complete. He'd have to be inside her with her quivering around him, crying out as she came before he would even let his true face forward. If he did it right, she'd have no way to stop herself. She'd be helpless against her body's reaction, and he'd watch her expression as she began to truly realize that it was him, Angelus the demon bringing her this pleasure, that it was always a demon she wanted. Then he'd give the final blow, watch her eyes close as his fingers traced that mark on her neck, his lips following soon after. This is what you need. This is what he can't give you, and you must know, Buffy, somewhere deep inside, that it was me last time who drank from your sweet, heated skin. It was me who brought you that pleasure. Then he'd slide his fangs into her neck, make her find release again, and tear away any chance for her to hide from the awful truth that she did want him. No more gentle after that. He'd make sure she knew it was him who was having her, not her gentle Angel, and he'd make sure she enjoyed every moment of painful pleasure.
Turning her would almost be an afterthought after such an exquisite torment, but he'd make sure that would be memorable too. It might have been a long time since he made Drusilla, but he still remembered how. After the seduction, breaking her the rest of the way should be easy. He let the image fade away.
It took Angelus a moment to realize that his hands had finished washing himself a few moments ago. He opened his eyes and rung the cloth, setting it beside the basin before he slid into the clean clothes. Perfect timing. The girl was beginning to wake. He put on his angelic face and went to her, holding up a placating hand as she asked fretfully, "Where am I? Who are you?"
"I'm stuck here too, but we're okay for now, I think. The demon's gone."
"Are you sure?" her eyes were pleading. She wanted so much for his words to be true. He could see it in her eyes and in her trembling body.
He moved closer, placing strong, soothing hands on her arms, drawing her into a protective hug. She hesitated at first, tensing, but then gave in to the promise of his comfort. He turned his face slightly to whisper softly in her ear "Shh, I'm not going to hurt you…"
...
Spike knew he should go back in quietly, but he didn't want to yet. He wanted to bask in the glow of this moment. After several rounds with the punching bag, he'd instigated a fight. To someone who didn't know Buffy as well, it might've appeared that the punching bag was enough, but Spike did know better. Sure she'd let out some grunted complaints as she threw punch after punch, but she'd needed more than that. He gave her an excuse to hit him, saying something about maybe she was just afraid to let Willow know how she really felt about her. That'd earned him a "how dare you pretend to know how I feel about Willow?" It got a little ugly after that, but thankfully not too bad. A brilliant shag of course followed the brawl. The tears that came after somewhat surprised him, but he was glad that she'd finally let out her grief for Tara.
He held her now, one arm around her shoulders as she lay against him, limp and tired. He could see a nice bruise or two forming on his forearm from defensive blocks. For some reason, he always fancied that a couple of bruises looked good on him, made him look all manly and straight from a brawl. That it would bug Angel didn't hurt either.
Glancing down at her, he nuzzled into her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. He really didn't want to leave her, but he supposed he had to. "You'll have to talk to Willow sometime later, love," he said into her hair.
"I know," she said with only slight annoyance at his breaking the silence. "But I'm good for now. Thanks."
"Anytime, pet."
"I really shouldn't solve my anger issues by hitting things, you know." She looked at him. "So it's actually bad for you to encourage me."
Spike snorted. "You keep talking like you're a normal girl. You do your best slaying when you're mad as hell. 'Sides what fun would that be for me?"
Titling her face up, she smirked at him. "Oh, so it's a charity thing then? Giving the vampire a much needed pounding?"
Spike raised his eyebrows and ground himself against her hip. "Thas right. It'd be cruel not to give the vamp his necessary pounding."
Buffy smacked him in the chest. "Pig." She made a show of snuggling into him before looking back into his ridged face. "You're still here?" she teased.
"Not much longer," he admitted somewhat sadly.
She lost her smile then. "Sorry."
"'s okay. I've overstayed as it is."
She turned more towards him, planting a soft kiss to his shoulder.
"'Sides, 've had enough mushy stuff to last me quite a while. Time to let Mr. Broody Pants take over and deal with all that."
She gave him an "oh, yeah" expression, eyebrows raised, before she smiled. "You're lucky that I know you're lying. Bye Spike."
"Bye, pet. Knock 'em dead. I'm here if you need me."
"I know."
Spike reluctantly let himself fade into the background.
...
Gnash frowned curiously as he looked at the scene his statue was showing him. He had to admit that he hadn't entirely figured Angelus out just yet. He knew how brutal the vampire could be. He'd seen the evidence of one victim's destruction and watched with great interest another's demise. The vision might've been grainy considering it was another dimension, and there was no sound, but it was definitely nothing like the slow seduction he was witnessing now. What was the vampire doing, and why did he seem to be whispering things that the girl couldn't hear along with the intelligible endearments?
Gnash was sure this must only be a ruse of some kind. He certainly wouldn't… Well he was wrong again. The vampire was definitely going to take the woman, and it looked for all the world like she was willing. He'd heard of a vampire's ability to mesmerize his prey, but this was the first time he'd seen it in effect. If anything, Gnash would say Angelus was being gentle, attentive. It wasn't long before the woman was moaning. Then just as Gnash was afraid it was going to get boring, he saw the vampire's face change. The girl still had her eyes closed, her mouth open in her exclamation of climax, but when she opened her eyes, Gnash snickered at the delightful expression of horror that bloomed there. Her body froze. Her scream was strangled and weak, her lungs unable to get the necessary air. Then Angelus struck, burying his fangs in her trembling body.
Gnash let the image fade, so the vampire could finish his meal in peace. Leaning back, he smiled. Even a demon such as himself could appreciate the subtle beauty of that death. He couldn't wait to let Angelus loose on his enemies, wondering if similar horrors were in store for the Slayer and her gang. He certainly hoped so. Now, though, he had to rest up and prepare for the next part of his plan. For that, he needed more demons. Tired but full of anticipation, he rose from his table and went to get a good evening's rest. Tomorrow he'd start fresh, and soon all of Sunnydale would pay the price.
TBC
