THERE IS A REASON I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN AGES! PLEASE DON'T HURT ME! Okay I was going to update both my stories before Easter but saw fit to lock my account until two days after I was due to go skiing in the US and I only just got back and have been writing all night (it is now 2.50am where I am) to extend this chapter for you all so there is a decent bit of action in it. No Doyle I'm afraid and this is likely to drag on for another five or six chapters if I carry on at this rate, maybe more.

EAE: Ooo fun.

Leave me alone. Anyway I GOT OVER FORTY REVIEWS! ON MY FIRST EVER FIC! WAHOO! Ehem, now that I got that out of my system, on to some answers.

empath89: You don't need a description? (Re-reads chapter) Er… well… er…

Insane Troll Logic: You know, I read through that last chapter and then a couple of chapters before it and thought, oh my God what am I writing? SO here is a nice big action scene for you. I'm sorry for feeding you guys crappy filler stuff, I guess I just haven't been feeling all that inspired lately. But now things are going to get interesting! Glad you liked that line, I remember that bit with Kendra now. That was funny! (EAE: You don't say…)

ezrajade: Yeah, probably not the best place to be right now and thanks for letting me know I'm keeping people in character, it's one of the things I'm paranoid about.

jewel21: I'm sorry! Really, I don't mean to be evil! (EAE: No, I do) Doyle will be rescued eventually, however many bits he is in by the time they get there… did I say that? As for a kiss… well… if Doyle's a good boy and doesn't die (EAE: Hey, I'm the evil one here!) Heh heh, don't worry, we're getting there, slowly but surely. Worship? Aw… (blushes).

YoshimiWolfspaw: Yay a new reviewer! (EAE: Sorry, she does that a lot) Thank you and here is your update! Enjoy!

And now, on to the main event! Hopefully this chapter will be a little less frustrating then the last few.

The torch light flickered at the top of a shallow slope which trailed down, the corridor walls branching away and widening into a sizeable chamber. At the far end there was a ledge that Angel estimated to be about two metres high, beyond which could be seen a large steel door, apparently shut firmly. More torches were attached to the wall, high out of reach, casting a sickly yellow stain over the chilling sight that met their eyes.

Spikes.

Enormous wooden spikes were fixed into the walls, floor and ceiling, the torchlight throwing their razor sharp tips into sharp relief. It was like an enormous thicket of thorns, each one at a different angle, ready to skewer anything that moved. In fact, it looked as though they already had. Several old, dried up skeletons were pinned to the wall, huge wooden shafts protruding from broken, empty ribcages. Others lay in bits around the floor as though carelessly scattered there and forgotten. And there were… not so old victims.

Cordy looked as though she was about to throw up. Angel, who was more used to this sort of thing, noticed that the top of the ledge was free of the spiky monstrosities and looked comparatively safe. Then again, most places would look safe compared to that heap. The fact that the projectiles were made of wood just served to unsettle the vampire even further, something that was doing nothing to improve his temper.

"Spikes!" Cordy wailed, "No one ever said anything about spikes! Did you hear anyone say anything about spikes?"

"Well actually – "

"My point exactly!"

Angel raised his eyes to the darkened ceiling.

"Cordy, no one forced you to come you know – "

"Oh don't start that with me, you know I had to come."

"Why?"

Cordelia, just for a split second seemed at a loss for words. And this was Cordelia we must remember.

"Because… someone had to make sure you didn't do something stupid because you're men and so you always dash headlong into dangerous situations without a thought for the consequences," she finished smugly. Angel rubbed his temples in irritation.

"Cordy – "

Oz took pity on the harassed vampire and cut in with his calm, quiet voice.

"Cordy, Doyle's running out of time and we're gonna need all the help we can get. Getting through this," he gestured at the spike pits, "is the only way we can get there in time. And besides, you may have a problem with forcing your way through an inch thick sheet of metal."

Cordy glanced behind her at the metal gate barring the way back, and she realised suddenly that, even if it hadn't been there, she would never have been able to go back anyway. Sighing, she glared at the two of them.

"Fine then, but I'm only doing this because someone has to keep you in line. Now," she turned and glared disapprovingly at the spikes, "someone please explain to me how we get through these."

Angel's dark eyes swept over the foreboding sight.

"Watch your step."

Without another word, he stepped carefully down the slope and into the razor-edged tangle. Oz followed and Cordelia couldn't help but notice the way he seemed to be almost prowling rather than walking, with fluid, predatory movements. She wondered how long it was until the next full moon. The last thing they needed was a rabid, psycho werewolf running around the place. She remembered all the chaos that had been caused before they found out it was actually Oz who was the werewolf, not some random guy that they could just kill and be done with. Somehow, these things always ended up being much more complicated than intended. She threw her head back in exasperation. Trust Willow to pick a werewolf for her first real boyfriend.

"Cordy look out!"

She vaguely registered something pushing her backwards and then she was lying flat on her face in the dust.

"Ow…"

She looked up, brushing dust off her face and out of her hair, only to freeze at the sight of Angel standing very still, an enormous wooden spike protruding from his chest.

"Oh my God, Angel!"

She leapt up only to be pushed unceremoniously back down by Oz, something whooshing over her head.

"Don't move," came Oz's quiet voice from above her, "quick movements seem to trigger some sort of release on those things. Keep your voice down, just in case." She sat up slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements as instructed and turned her head slowly to where Angel, to her relief, still stood intact. Very slowly, the vampire raised a hand to the wood and, gritting his teeth, pulled it bit by bit out of his chest.

She stood up carefully and walked over to him, keeping a nervous eye on the spikes that now surrounded them.

"Are you okay?"

Angel grimaced, lowering the spike to the ground and sitting back on his heels, pressing his fingers to the wound on his chest. It felt the same as when Faith had shot him with that arrow, only now he didn't have the feeling of poison overwhelming and suffocating him. All in all, he had had worse. As usual.

"Fine."

He got carefully to his feet and looked back at the other two.

"You good?"

Both Oz and Cordy nodded.

"Good. Now I reckon we just need to stay quiet, watch where you put your feet and don't touch anything. As long as we don't run into… anything… else…"

He trailed off as his eyes finally caught sight of the figure that had appeared silently on the ledge they were trying to get to. A smirk was displayed clearly on the black-tattooed face as pale blue eyes sparkled in amusement. The smug look may have had something to do with the large crossbow cradled easily in the hunter's arms. The glinting silver tip of the arrow was pointing straight at Oz.

"Move and your pet wolf there is dead."

Oz was getting fed up with this guy. He was by most standards an extremely tolerant person but when he was standing in the middle of a pit full of projectile spikes being held at gun point or arrow point or whatever by a psychotic murderer who hated him for being what he was and using him against his own friends, it could get a little annoying. Not to mention he had the worst headache in all his history of dealing with vamps, demons and various other creepy stuff. So he was understandably compelled to reach behind him and tap one of the spikes that just so happened to be pointing straight at the deranged hunter. He then threw himself sideways as the spike, guided by the simple instructions it had had programmed into its very structure for so long, shot out of the rock.

Angel wasted no time, seeing Oz's action his lightning reflexes kicked in. In one leap he had grabbed Cordelia around the waist and hurled her bodily up onto the ledge, jumping up after her. Sacarven had dropped the crossbow in his haste to get out of the spike's way and was scrabbling to retrieve it. Angel was quicker, kicking the weapon off the ledge and stamping down hard on the wolf hunter's outstretched wrist. Sacarven twisted, hooking a leg around Angel's ankles, tripping the vampire and scrambling up and away. Angel flipped straight onto his feet and went after him, throwing a vicious punch at the man that Sacarven barely managed to block. Angel shifted his weight onto his back foot with flawless ease, leaning gracefully backwards and bringing his foot up to connect solidly with the hunter's rib cage. Sacarven was thrown back against the wall and slid down it to sprawl at the base of the stone. Angel strode forwards, intent on finishing the man off.

"Angel! Behind you!"

Angel had already begun to turn, his hand snapping around the outstretched wrist of a masked man, wrenching the stake out of his grasp. However, he had made a mistake in turning his back on Sacarven. The key to being a werewolf hunter was quick recovery and endurance. He had been beat up pretty badly many times but his incredible adrenalin reserve kept him alive in time to finish the fight. Without him dying. And he took advantage of every opening. Angel's vampire sense gave him enough warning for him to twist to one side, the result being that the spike Sacarven had retrieved from where it was stuck in the wall, only hit his side, smashing into his ribs, rather than plunging into his heart and sending him to pieces as it were.

Sacarven didn't pause but merely shoved harder, propelling Angel bodily off the ledge and down into the spikes below. Cordelia screamed as several of the nearest wooden spears shot up at the fast movement. Angel was equal to that though. Twisting gracefully in midair, he avoided each of them with ease. Landing catlike on all fours he got up slowly, glaring up at the ledge. At least twenty men stood up there, masked and clad in dark robes. A flash of fury swept through him as he caught sight of Cordy held firmly between two of them ("Let GO of me you weirdoes! I'm warning you, I have a nail file and I'm not afraid to… damn, I lost it…"). Sacarven swaggered slowly to the front, his eyes fixed mockingly on Angel.

"So vampire, are you ready to surrender or do we have to kill all your friends?"

Angel ignored him, looking around as Oz reached his side, rubbing a long cut on his arm. Angel shot him a questioning glance. He shrugged.

"Didn't move quick enough. Or moved too quickly. Whichever you prefer."

Angel saw the wolf's sharp green eyes flick up to the ledge, saw the spark of anger in them at the sight of Sacarven.

"That guy is starting to get annoying."

Angel smiled grimly, "Just starting?"

The werewolf hunter grinned down at the two; his white teeth gleaming in the torchlight, the feral expression on his face making him look far more like a bloodthirsty predator than any werewolf. Ironic really.

"Kill the vampire. The wolf's mine."

The men around him, except for the two holding a now struggling Cordelia, leapt unhesitatingly off the ledge and down into the spikes. Angel and Oz exchanged a look, shadowed black meeting sharp green. Then they moved. Angel tore a spike from the wall and hurled it at Sacarven, dodging two spikes and a minion in the process, backflipping over the man and hearing the familiar squishy thud of heavy wood hitting flesh. Oz ducked swiftly between two minions, the motion sensitive spike triggered by his actions hitting one in the shoulder. The other turned to be met with a crossbow bolt right between the eyes. He fell without a sound.

Angel grabbed a man by the throat, hurling him into another, their momentum sending both of them backwards into a spike, skewering them like a human kebab. Golden eyes flashing, his whirled around, his spinning kick slamming into a man's head with the force of a small delivery van going at fifty miles per hour. And when that force is concentrated into the surface area of approximately four square inches, applying it to the side of a human skull is definitely not healthy. Especially if it's your skull. Oz covered his back, shooting men with calm, deadly precision. Angel was ploughing through the minions like a sledgehammer through tissue paper. He suddenly felt his wolf instincts flare and his eyes darted up to the ledge. Sacarven wasn't there.

"Angel where's th– "

He just saw something flash in front of his eyes before he felt lightning fast hands slipping something around his neck. He ducked and pulled away on instinct and nothing seemed to be stopping him… but something was wrong. He felt… drowsy suddenly, his limbs feeling as though they had been filled with lead. His vision blurred and he stumbled forward.

Angel whipped around at Cordy's cry of dismay, in time to see Sacarven grab Oz by the throat. The werewolf looked dazed and he didn't seem to be struggling. Angel's sharp eyes picked out something hanging around Oz's neck and identified it almost immediately as the silver medallion that Sacarven had been wearing. Whatever it was, it didn't seem to be doing Oz much good. He snarled, throwing another man away from him with a single sweep of his arm. He had had just about enough of this.

Oz twisted weakly in the hunter's tenacious grip, his eyelids feeling suddenly very heavy, the breath catching in his lungs. All of his energy seemed to be slipping gently away, leaving him with a strange drifting feeling. The clear part of his brain, deep within that centre of his mind that no one could touch, was screaming at him to get up, not to give in, not to fall asleep. He made one last futile effort at keeping his eyes open.

Willow…

The hunter smirked in satisfaction as the young wolf fell motionless, his breathing shallow and his eyes closed. He had been right to take extra care with this one, he had resisted the amulet's devastating power for much longer than he had expected. For a young wolf he seemed to have more influence over the creature than most of the others. Perhaps, if this one had been allowed to live, he might have learned to control the hellbeast. Such a shame he wouldn't be.

He pulled out his favourite silver dagger, the very same one that he had used to kill the black wolf of Siberia. He chuckled quietly to himself as he remembered that this was the exact same way he had killed that monster too. Ah well; might as well do it properly. He raised the dagger, just in time to catch a reflection of gold eyes and black leather in the gleaming blade. Curse that damned vampire! Always spoiling his fun!

He swiftly dropped the wolf, jumping backward, letting out a startled yelp as the vampire whirled around with the speed of a bullet, easily dodging two flying spikes. Leaping forward with a growl, Angel knocked the dagger from the hunter's grip. Sacarven responded just as quickly, burying the silver claws of his fighting gloves deeply into the vampire's chest. This obviously didn't have the same devastating effect as it did of a werewolf, but even Angel could not ignore four sharp pieces of metal being shoved forcefully into his ribcage.

Cordelia forced herself to stay calm and not to brush any of the spikes by accident as she half-walked, half-ran over to where Oz lay motionless. Dropping to her knees she looked worriedly at him. His breathing was shallow and sounded painful, his skin even paler than usual, throwing the many ugly bruises along his head and jaw into sharp relief. She hadn't seen what the hunter had done to him and she couldn't see if he was bleeding or injured anywhere. She panicked as his breathing began to slow even more.

"Angel!"

The vampire heard Cordy's shout through a haze of bloodlust but he ignored the shout for the time being, focusing on the fight. Sacarven had snatched up a broken piece of wood and alternated punching and stabbing at the vampire. Angel parried each blow with practised ease, neither of them giving the other an opening. Worry for Oz lurked in his subconscious, he didn't know what that amulet did to a werewolf but he had seen the glazed look on his friend's face, how quickly it had floored the tough young wolf. He would never be able to forgive himself if Oz died because he had been dragged into all of this.

Cordy looked around helplessly. She had no idea how to help Oz and Angel was preoccupied with fighting off that disgusting hunter. She had to do something. But what?

Sacarven punched Angel in the face, jumping swiftly out of the way so that Angel was forced to avoid the spike that came flying at him. This gave the hunter time to get behind him. Angel felt the stake beginning to pierce the flesh in his back and leapt forwards a nanosecond before the wood pierced his heart. Unfortunately he didn't see the second spike. A horrible pain flared in his left leg as the huge wooden spear hit home. He stumbled and fell awkwardly, reaching blindly behind him and managing to grab Sacarven's wrist. The wolf hunter, scenting victory in the air, brought a leather boot down hard on Angel's injured shoulder, breaking the vampire's shaky grip on his arm. Angel knew he wouldn't be able to get up in time. He closed his eyes and waited for the final blow, wondering whether Buffy would find out. Whether she would be sad…

He was snapped sharply back to reality by the sound of something heavy falling to the ground accompanied by the tangy, metallic smell of freshly spilled blood. His eyes snapped open and he pushed himself upright, ignoring the pain coursing through his shoulder and leg.

Sacarven lay face-up on the dusty ground, a large crossbow bolt buried in his chest, the end still quivering. Already a pool of dark, crimson liquid was spreading steadily from underneath him, staining the dust. There was a small squeaking noise behind him as Cordy dropped the crossbow, the very same one the hunter had used to threaten them with about five minutes ago.

"I killed him…"

Angel, ignoring the werewolf hunter's remains, walked carefully over to her. Most of the spikes was scattered haphazardly around the floor, shattered and splintered amid the wreckage of dead bodies and churned up earth. Without them sticking menacingly from the walls, the place looked flat and bleak, the scent of blood heavy and fear heavy in the musty air.

"Thanks Cordy."

She seemed to snap out of her momentary daze to fall back into full panic mode.

"Did you see what he did to Oz? I can't tell if he's injured or not and I don't think he's breathing and I totally forgot everything we learned about first aid in high school, not that any of it would help us most of the time unless it was telling us not to let weird men with severe skin problems into our houses at night but I always thought that went without saying – "

The vampire placed a gentle but firm hand on her shoulder.

"Cordy, calm down."

She nodded, breathing deeply.

"It's okay, I'm okay. Oz is still kinda not breathing though. That's… not okay, is it?"

He brushed hurriedly past her to kneel beside the comatose werewolf, snapping the leather string holding the medallion around his neck and pulling it swiftly away. The thing reeked of dark magic, Angel threw it distastefully to one side. He quickly pressed two fingers to the side of Oz's now bruised throat, breathing a soft sigh of relief when he found a pulse, admittedly weaker than it should be, but steady. However it didn't look as though he would be coming around any time soon, which, in Cordy's words was 'not okay.' They needed to press on if what Kaeden had said was anything to go by. If this ritual thing or whatever was tonight then Angel didn't know how much time Doyle had left and he did not like not knowing what was going on, especially when it concerned his friends.

As if in concurrence to his thoughts, a horrible, spine-chilling noise, faint but somehow unbearably clear, echoed from the passageway towards which they had been fighting, bouncing unpleasantly off the stone walls.

A scream.

Cordelia's head snapped up at the sound, her eyes wide.

"Oh my God… Angel that was him! That was Doyle!"

Angel frowned at her, trying to suppress the fear bubbling up inside his own chest. He had to stay calm, he had to focus.

"We don't know that Cordy, it might not be – "

"That was him, I know it!"

Without another word she leapt to her feet and scrambled up onto the ledge, dashing full pelt into the blackness, Angel's urgent shouts echoing dismally behind her. She had to find him, she just had to! He had sounded so terrified, so full of pain, in agony almost… oh God Doyle please be okay, she thought desperately. She raced along, all thoughts of her sore feet, the man she had just killed, the fight that had taken place, all pushed out of her head to be replaced with a terrifying image of Doyle, alone and scared, dying in some dark cave somewhere, thinking that she thought he was stupid. She had to find him…


Okay, before you all yell at me I just want to tell you that adding to fight scenes and trying to think up a decent ending at 2.45am is not fun. REVIEW and a (belated) HAPPY EASTER to everybody (throws random Easter eggs). I'm going to go away now before I collapse. R&Rrrzzzzzzzzzzz…

EAE: You know the drill. (drags Shikani away)