MysticWolf1: Thanks! I found the fight surprisingly difficult to write. And no—there's no crossing over. I'm afraid that Rachel is a shamelessly inserted original character (desperately trying to avoid Mary Sue-dom).

I have another scene with L & L coming up in the next chapter. I figure it will be a good chance to flesh out their evil plan more.

Sorry I've been so slow to update. I'm having a hard time getting alone-time with my computer lately.

Chapter 4

Angel deposited their guest-slash-prisoner on a sofa in the lobby of the Hyperion.

"Boy, you must have clocked her a good one. She's still out," Cordelia said.

"Lucky her," Angel muttered under his breath. Cordelia had spent the entire trip back to the hotel telling him off for his gullibility. Boy, one whiff of damsel in distress and any common sense you have goes right out the window, doesn't it? Dear Angel, please come out to a dark alley with no back up so I can lure you into a trap and kill you deader than you already are. Two hundred and some odd years and you actually fell for that? Moron.

"Do you think we might need ropes? Or witch kryptonite? Something?" Gunn asked, eyeing her distrustfully. "What if she wakes up and puts the whammy on us again?"

"I doubt she'll be able to," Wesley said. "I rather imagine she overextended herself. Back in the alley she didn't seem to be using spells or charms—things that channel magic efficiently. She was just throwing raw power. That burns up magic fairly quickly, even if the witch or wizard has strong reserves."

"Wesley, you know something about these Kindred," Angel said. "Is it normal for them to hire out to the likes of Wolfram & Hart?"

Wesley looked extremely skeptical. "I'd say it would be about as likely as a member of the Watcher's Council hiring out to them."

"Maybe she went over to the dark side," Gun said. "Like that Slayer you guys had a run in with who went bad."

"Great. So going by that example we still have some torture, mayhem, and gunplay to get through before we can call this case closed," Cordelia said.

"There's still the matter of the Host's reading," Wesley said. "Why does she need help?"

There was the sound of a body shifting and a quiet groan. Their guest was coming around.

"Let's find out," Angel said.

Bright lights. Very bright lights. Rachel opened her eyes a crack, then snapped them shut with a groan of pain. The pounding in her head was nearly enough to drown out all of her other aches.

She tried opening her eyes again. This time a dark, blurry form had moved between her and the glaring lights. Rachel concentrated on blinking the fuzzy shape into focus. Her eyes went wide with horror as she realized who was bending over her.

"Good morning, sunshine," the vampire said. "Nice of you to join us."

Rachel felt her heart jump into high gear as fear flooded her insides. She reached inside herself for her magic, but it was so weak she doubted that she could do so much as ignite a match. Her weapons were gone. She was defenseless.

To her surprise, the vampire straightened up and stepped away. "Can you sit up?" he asked.

Slowly, not sure what sort of game was being played here, Rachel levered herself upright. The vampire stood in front of her, arms crossed, flanked by the three people who had come to his aid in the alley.

"Rachel Harper," the vampire said. Rachel looked at him apprehensively. "My name is Angel. But I take it you know that already."

"Yes."

"These are my associates—Cordelia Chase, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, and Charles Gunn."

The three humans were regarding her with a mixture of puzzlement and suspicion. No help to be had there—that was for certain.

Rachel swallowed. "What are you waiting for?" she asked, hoping that her voice would hold steady.

Angel raised his eyebrows. "I'm not going to kill you if that's what you're asking," he said.

She seemed less than reassured by that.

Angel held up Lindsey's card. "We know you're working for Wolfram & Hart," he said. "We also know you're Kindred, which Wesley here tells me means we're on the same side. Why are you dealing with them?"

No answer.

"You know, the Host? The green guy you left the message with? He's pretty good at reading people. Funny thing—when he read you, he didn't read 'killer.' He said that you were in trouble. I'm inclined to believe him."

Rachel stared silently at his knees. Angel decided to play a hunch. "What is Wolfram & Hart holding over your head?" he asked.

Rachel looked up sharply. That told Angel all he needed to know. "Is it blackmail? They're going to have you thrown into prison? They did you a favor and now this is what you owe them? They've threatened you? Your family?"

That last got a reaction. "Who is it, Rachel?" the vampire asked. "Talk to us. We can help you."

Staring up at the vampire, Rachel had a brief, but heated argument with herself. It made no sense. A vampire—moreover a vampire she'd just tried to kill—offering her help? In her experience, vampires didn't help people, period. No matter what Wolfram & Hart's file on him might indicate.

Of course, Wolfram & Hart was evil. Rachel had never had any illusions about that. And they wanted Angel gone. What did that say about him?

Evil or not, she'd blown her chance with Wolfram & Hart. She'd thought it was her only chance. Maybe she'd been wrong.

What do you really have to lose at this point?

"Does someone have my wallet?" she asked.

At a nod from Angel, Cordelia handed it over. Rachel slipped one of the pictures out of its plastic sleeve and handed it to Angel.

The picture had been taken outdoors, somewhere near the ocean. Rachel was sitting in the foreground with four other people, another young women and three young men, who seemed to range from early to late twenties. There was a strong family resemblance between all five. Behind them, an older couple sat on a picnic table. A trim middle-aged woman, caught mid laugh, sat with her head leaning against the shoulder of a man with thinning hair and a wide, friendly smile. It was at him that Rachel pointed.

"My uncle, James Harper. He's a Kindred officer. He deals mostly with research and intelligence. Five days ago while he was doing some fact-finding, he was captured by a band of demons called the Savvin."

"I've heard of them," Wesley said. "Particularly brutal and violent."

Rachel nodded. "That would be them. The Kindred leadership made the decision not to mount a rescue operation. They said they couldn't risk it for one person. They said that he was as good as dead anyway."

"You disagree."

Rachel smiled without humor. "The Savvin tend to keep their captives alive for a while. They're more fun that way. I think he's still alive, but I don't know for how much longer. I tracked them to their lair in Los Angeles, but I can't get into it on my own. I knew that Wolfram & Hart has close ties to them, so I went in and cut a deal. I'd do them a favor, and they'd make a call and have him released."

"A favor. Namely killing me," Angel said.

"Namely, killing you," Rachel replied.

"Their lair. Can you show us where it is?"

It took a few minutes for Rachel to orient herself on the large city map in Angel's office, but once she had she was quickly able to locate the block of abandoned buildings where the Saavin were holed up.

Gunn raised one hand. "Question? If you knew where these demons were, why didn't you just go over there and put the magical kibosh on them instead of going to the lawyers? It's not like you lack the firepower."

"I did," Rachel answered, a tad defensively. She shifted uncomfortably. "That was the first thing I tried. Unfortunately, if there's one thing the Saavin excel at—besides sadism—it's security. My firepower didn't cut it."

Gunn was about to open his mouth to ask for details when Wesley, who had been watching her closely, stepped forward and carefully lifted the hem of her shirt up a few inches along her left side, exposing skin mottled purple and red by bruises. Standing out against the discolored mess were four large, half-healed punctures. Rachel quickly caught the hem and pulled it back down, but not before all the others had seen.

Cordelia looked appalled. Gunn hissed in sympathy.

"The claws of Saavin demons secrete a weak poison," Wesley said matter-of-factly. "Have you experienced any nausea or faintness?"

Rachel shook her head. "It's fine. I got to an underground clinic that deals in…specialized injuries and got patched up and detoxed. Nothing important got punctured."

"You've been using your magic to function," Wesley said. It was not a question.

Rachel nodded.

"It's a wonder you're still upright," he commented.

"Where are you staying?" Angel interrupted.

"The Riverside Motel on Stuart Street. Why?" she asked.

"All right, first order of business. Cordy and Gunn, go to the motel and get her stuff. Clear everything out. Don't leave anything for Wolfram & Hart to find. They're not going to take kindly to the fact you're with us—you'll be a lot safer here," Angel added. "I'm going to go down to the lair and check out the perimeter—see exactly what sort of defenses we're looking at. Wesley, you're in charge of our guest. Keep an eye on her, and also see what you can find on the Savvin."

"What?" Rachel looked from one to the other. "You're actually going to help me? Why? I tried to kill you."

"Because it's the right thing to do," Angel said "That happens to be what I'm in the business of, although I doubt Wolfram & Hart included that in my file."