Disclaimer: I don't own Angel the Series.
Author's Note 1: I apologize for the delay. Between real life and whatnot, and then having to reject my initial version of the chapter (which was several thousand words by that point) as unworkable, this took longer than ever expected by a country mile.
Author's Note 2: Unlike the last three chapters of the Flip Side, this doesn't rewrite a specific episode, though it does 'fill' the space created by two episodes from the original show that aren't happening in this story - namely, Five By Five, and Sanctuary. What with Faith's entire trajectory being different, those episodes just don't even happen. So this chapter isn't an 'AU' version of those episodes.
Rather, this chapter fills the space of those episodes, sort of, and explores the character of Kate Lockley in greater depth. She's an important character in the L.A. side of the Coinverse (as anyone who has ever checked my tumblr has seen me discuss, when talking about my various plans for this fic series), and we need to look inside her head much more than we've done so far.
I'm guessing most of you who are reading The Flip Side are also reading the mainline Iron Coin fanfic series. But to be clear, if you haven't read Iron Coin Chronicles Season 2, Episode 17, you might want to do so - as this chapter will allude to a few things that happened there, what with the Scooby gang going to L.A. and meeting Angel, Doyle and Kate there, and what comes of that. If you don't read it, you'll be able to follow the chapter, but you might be confused on a few details here and there. Just fair warning.
Thanks as always to Starway Man and Deiticlast for their work as beta-readers.
The Iron Coin Chronicles: The Flip SIde
By Alkeni
Chapter 4: The Limits of the Law
April 20th, 2000
Kate Lockley's Apartment, Los Angeles
Kate had always been a workaholic - first as a uniform officer, and now as a Detective. She'd picked the habit up both from her dad, and from the need to prove herself in the face of the other detectives and their skepticism about her and her ability to be an effective member of the LAPD.
So taking her work home with her, when she actually went home, was nothing new. But the frequency with which she did it had only increased since she'd had her eyes opened about the supernatural. All her reference material, the notes she'd taken on the supernatural - and on Angel himself - were here.
I can't exactly keep occult reference books around the station. She was still sorting out what sources were useful and which were crap, but she'd slowly begun to assemble a small collection of what she was pretty sure was mostly accurate stuff - demons, magic, vampires. Everything that went bump in the night.
Kate planned to bump back, as much as she could.
She'd always tended towards the weird cases, even before she'd discovered the truth out there. The serial killers, the unexplained phenomena, the mysterious murder weapons, the kinds of cases other detectives just threw their hands up at and give up on. It was a reputation she'd built up, and it served her well since she'd learned about the supernatural.
She'd become the go-to detective for these cases - the captain or even other detectives would just bring them to her, knowing she'd handle them so they didn't have to.
And, as the only detective at her precinct that knew about the supernatural, about vampires and demons, well - Kate actively gravitated towards any case, any murder, where it seemed like the supernatural might be involved. Bizarre neck wounds, wild animal attacks that made no sense, other things that seemed 'impossible' and were likely to end up written off and shoved into a cold case archive (and sooner rather than later).
Bottom line, Kate knew that someone had to solve these cases, and she was the one to do it. And... as much she hated to rely on him, she could always - and did - ask Angel for help. Information, or insight into what she was looking for, how to kill it... he usually invited himself along for the ride, which she could usually do without, but...
Her misgivings about working with a murderous vampire - even one who really wasn't evil anymore - remained. But... Angel was an ally. He'd saved her life more than once, and she'd saved his... and she still trusted him. Which she knew was stupid, but...
And beyond all that, Kate wasn't going to let her misgivings stop her from solving cases. She'd had informants she'd had misgivings about, she'd convinced the DA's office to accept plea bargains so she could get bigger fish. And at the end of the day, if getting the dangerous demons and monsters and whatever else was out there off the street meant working with a vampire...
Well, she put results first, and that meant she'd have to work with him.
Taking another sip from her coffee, Kate looked back at the case file she'd taken home with her. Four dead bodies, all untouched, except for the fact that their eyes were burned out of their sockets. Completely. No eyeballs, just a bit of trace residue and ash left behind. And no evidence indicating how the eyes were incinerated. No marks. No chemicals or accelerants. Nothing.
That alone would have been enough for the case to land on her desk, but the thing that really caught her interest is that all of the victims seemed to be neck-deep in the Occult. One owned an occult shop and bookstore, and the other three had homes full of occult books and implements - which, to Kate's admittedly inexpert eye, looked like the real deal.
Her guess was that someone was killing... what was she even supposed to call them? They weren't all one gender, so witch or warlock wouldn't work... magic-users... spellcasters of some sort? Whatever.
She laid the pictures of the bodies out in front of her, each one lying on the ground, looking completely peaceful and untouched... and completely dead. She looked at the empty eye sockets, something niggling at the back of her minds. She picked one picture up - the first victim, a fifty-year old man named Joshua Davis...
The outside of the sockets weren't touched at all - the ash was all inside the eye sockets...
Wait.
Moving over to her books, she pulled one out, hoping she was remembering the right one as she started to page through it quickly, looking for-
There.
April 20th, 2000
Angel's Apartment, Los Angeles
"You really need to remember to lock that door, Angel."
Angel looked up from his book at Doyle's words, unbothered by them, or the sound of the elevator coming down from the upper level.
"It's just Kate," Angel replied. "I don't think locking the door would stop her, anyway."
Doyle raised an eyebrow at him, then shrugged. "Y'know, boyo, that woman - she's been coming by a lot the last couple months..." The half-demon trailed off, deliberately leaving something out, probably trying to imply something - but Angel didn't take his meaning.
"I know. Kate's actively taking on every case that has any signs of supernatural involvement. Not really a surprise. Besides, I've asked her for help more than once too." Angel would have liked to say she was a friend, but he didn't know how Kate would have felt about that. She'd gotten past the fact that he was a vampire, more or less, and she was taking the revelation of the supernatural fairly well. Finally. But still, even he could pick up how conflicted the blonde cop felt about him, and about coming to him for help.
She's used to doing everything on her own. Not relying on anyone. Based on what little Angel knew about Kate's childhood, after her mother had died, she'd mostly raised herself. She'd become a cop to get closer to her father, but Angel could guess how it hadn't been easy for her. Society may have gotten more egalitarian than when he was human, but...
"She's your friend on the force, aye, I know that. But she'd better not drop by at the same time Harry is helping us out on a case!" Doyle muttered, as Angel finally heard the elevator reach the bottom and the doors begin to open.
Moving quickly, he was there to greet her by the time she was out of the elevator.
"Ugh. Can you not do that?" Kate asked, stiffening a little at his sudden arrival.
"Do what?"
"Jeez, I can never tell if you're being deadpan or really don't know," Kate muttered, quieter than a human would be able to pick up, then she went on in a louder voice: "Moving so fast like that... just appearing out of nowhere."
"Well, y'know, I keep telling the Dark Avenger here that he needs to makes some noise, or wear a bell, or something," Doyle commented, walking behind him. Kate gave him a brief sideways glance, but then turned her attention back to Angel as she held out a case file. "He's still not keen on it, though. Probably because it ruins that whole creature of the night thing, I'm betting..."
Kate ignored Doyle's words as Angel reached out and took the case file, the detective starting to give him the details.
"Someone has been killing what I can only assume are magic users of some sort, or people involved in the supernatural. And I think they've been using this spell I read about - 'Inverting the Windows.'"
The name sounded familiar, but it wasn't until Angel opened the file and saw the pictures of the body, their empty eye sockets and the mention of ash on the inside of the sockets, that he managed to connect the dots.
Had Angel still been human, he'd have swallowed as he realized just what sort of spell Kate was talking about. He didn't recognize it by that name... but eyes were the windows to the soul, or so they said. And since this magic involved draining someone of all their magical power and in the process killing them...
Well, it made sense.
"I've heard of this," Angel nodded slowly. "Never seen it in action, but... it's pretty dark magic. Not to mention the whole 'killing someone' part. Someone is trying to gather some serious power."
"You're right about these people being spellcasters, Detective. I actually recognize these two," Doyle said, pointing at two of the pictures. "That one's Jessica Grimes. She's - sorry, she was - a magical loan shark - lends out power, takes it back with interest. Had a strict rule against killing people, but she still put a buddy of a guy I know in a coma after taking her interest out of him."
"And the other victim you know?" Kate demanded.
"Well, his name is Joshua Davis... old hand in the magic community. Played poker with him a few times. Lousy bluffer. He didn't have a lot of power, but word is he knew how to use what he had pretty well. But Grimes? She's a heavy hitter."
"Joshua was the first victim, and Jessica was the most recent. Maybe the killer's going for more and more powerful targets?" Kate suggested, and Angel nodded.
"It would make sense. Using the power he takes from one to help him steal power from the next. That might actually making stopping him easier." Angel saw Kate's raised eyebrow and shrugged, "I'm not an expert on magic, but I've been around long enough to learn a few details - if this killer is using the magic from each victim to drain the power of the next, then it means he doesn't have the power of all four, at least not completely." Angel didn't relish the idea of going up against someone who could possibly conjure fire out of thin air, but Kate wasn't going to just abandon this, and he wouldn't let her do it alone.
Besides, Angelus had killed more than a few witches and warlocks in his day. It wasn't always easy, but even powerful magic users could be beaten, if you planned carefully.
"I was hoping you... or your friend," She gestured to Doyle, "Might know who to talk to in the... community. Point me in the right direction."
"I can talk to a few people. If someone's stockpiling mojo, there might be someone who knows something," Doyle nodded, looking to Angel.
"Go," Angel confirmed.
"I'll need those pictures, could help if someone recognizes the other two."
Kate nodded, crossing her arms and front of her, "Go ahead and keep them." Kate uncrossed her arms, turning a little. "They're just copies. And the rest of the precinct won't notice if they're gone." She let out a sigh. "They don't tend to notice much of anything."
"If they did notice things, you'd just have more dead cops, Kate. Either that, or lynch mobs in uniform - which might actually be worse. Most people just aren't equipped to handle this sort of thing. You are." Angel understood her frustration, to a point. She was out on a limb, alone, with no support from the rest of the LAPD. And from what little he'd gathered, she'd become increasingly alienated from her fellow officers as she kept investigating the weirder cases, the ones that had supernatural involvement that no one would admit to.
She was fighting a one-woman war here, trying to solve these crimes.
And fighting on your own... well... that had its disadvantages. Especially where Kate's lifespan was concerned.
"And that's a fact that's a blessing and a curse, that is," Doyle observed, chiming in for the first time since the start of the conversation. "It's not just one or the other, Detective. May as well stop asking yourself the question."
"How is any of this a blessing?" Kate snapped, turning towards Doyle.
"You're still alive. Ignorance might be bliss," Doyle explained, "but you'll end up just as dead if you don't believe in demons and vampires, when one of 'em decides you'd make a tasty snack. Now you get to be all Agent Mulder, and know what to do to survive."
"Mulder wants to believe. I believe, but I don't want to." Kate countered.
Doyle stared at her a moment, then nodded, "Fair enough. Can't say I don't feel you there."
Angel watched Doyle step past Kate and enter the elevator, going up. He looked back to Kate. "Doyle's the one who knows people, but when he does find something, I'm going with you."
"This is my case, Angel," Kate told him firmly.
"It is. Your case, your lead," Angel agreed. It was how they'd done it in recent months - if she came to him to ask for his help, she led, and if he went to her, he led. It wasn't perfect - Kate didn't exactly like not running the show - but likely she figured it was the price of cooperation. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you go in guns blazing and get yourself killed, Kate."
"And that's fine... more or less." Kate inhaled sharply after muttering that last bit, "I'm not an idiot and I'm not going to take stupid risks." Angel held up his hands a little, conceding the point.
"But remember," she went on, "if this is a human doing this - I don't care if they can use magic, if they're human, I'm making every effort to arrest them and see they're brought to trial." Kate looked at him intently. "This isn't going to be a demon you can kill or a vampire you can stake. I don't kill people, unless I have no choice. And I'm not going to let you do it either."
Angel wasn't surprised at her words. Kate was an officer of the law, and a good person. She believed in justice and the LAPD. The police were far from perfect, but Kate wasn't one to abuse her power or shoot unarmed people. And she believed in the justice system.
"I don't kill humans -"
"You did leave Darin MacNamara to die at the hands of all those other demons in that fight ring," Kate pointed out.
Angel frowned at that - not so much the fact that Darin had died after being killed by his own cuffs - he hadn't put the cuffs on him or thrown him, that had all been Trepkos.
But he had threatened to kill Jack MacNamara in order to get free... and he'd been ready to follow through on the threat, more or less.
Jack was a criminal and hardly an innocent. And that was true... but it was a line he'd thankfully been able to avoid crossing.
"But I didn't kill him. I would have been fine with you taking him in... illegal gambling and fight rings are still illegal, and if he'd told anyone the full truth, he'd have been committed." Angel wasn't sure about that - a man like Darin deserved to die, but Angel couldn't be the one to do it.
"And that's a big part of the reason I got involved... that and saving your life."
"I thanked you for that then," Angel pointed out, then he put his hands in his pockets. "Kate... the thing is, you may not be able to hold a guy like this. Even if you can come up with the kind of evidence that would apply in a human court, unless you can stop him from casting spells, he could probably just break out of any normal holding facility."
Kate frowned, no doubt recalling her excruciating experience with the talking stick - if magic had helped a man escape a jail cell before, it could do so again.
"I don't get to make that call, Angel. I'm not a soldier, I'm not here to kill the other guy, I'm here to arrest them. I'll worry about how he stays in prison once we get that far."
"Alright," Angel said after a long moment. "I'll let you know as soon as Doyle finds something," he added.
"Good."
April 20th, 2000
Kate Lockley's Apartment, Los Angeles
Kate didn't handle downtime well. Never had, and probably never would. When she wasn't on the job, she wanted to be back on it. She was infamous among her fellow detectives for being even more of a workaholic than the rest of them.
Of course, now she had even more than just her official cases to work on. She had to teach herself about the supernatural, and then... and then she had a case of her own, one she'd been working on steadily for months, ever since she'd met a so-called private investigator in the home of a dead woman.
The mystery that was 'Angel'.
By now, she had a whole box of information on the man - something about him, especially after he saved her life, had told her there was more to learn about him.
At first, the file had been collected notes and assumptions based on their interactions, more questions than answers and a lot of assumptions and guesses.
In the end... it had turned out that all of her guesses were... useless.
Because Angel was a vampire. And so, a whole new file had been opened up.
Kate pulled one of the now many folders out of the box and opened it up, starting to go through it, looking for something. Something about... vampire hunters?
She'd made it her mission to find information on as many of the crimes committed by Angelus - by Angel - as she could. She wanted to know exactly who he he was, what he'd done. Exactly what he was making up for.
Everything she'd found had been worse than a horror story. His record of death and devastation made him one of the bloodiest vampires in history. According to some of the books she'd found, Angelus' record stood up 'well' to that of vampires that had lasted for a thousand years or more.
She couldn't look away from it all. Every sin, every murder, every time he'd nailed a puppy to someone's front door... something he'd apparently done more than a few times. If she was going to keep him alive and use him, she wanted to make sure she remembered his sins, so she didn't let herself forget what he was.
But there was a name that was on the tip of her tongue. Some vampire hunter that had chased after Angelus for years, had suffered something horrible at the hands of Angelus and his sire, Darla... she wasn't sure why he was coming to her mind, but something about something had reminded her... and now she couldn't get it out her head..
After another few minutes of paging through the folder unsuccessfully, Kate dropped it to the table sloppily, letting out a long sigh before dropping into a chair. She could look for it another time, if it was still bothering her.
"It's easy to forget..." She mused aloud, then closed the folder, stuffing all the pages back into it haphazardly and dropping the whole thing back into the 'Angel' box. Angel didn't act like a mass murdering sociopath. He could be... friendly, helpful, useful, occasionally funny and...
Almost endearing, even in his strangeness - but he wasn't any of those things. Not really.
Learning that the answer to why he was different was because a clan of Romani had cursed him with a soul so he could feel the guilt and remorse for all his sins had answered the question of why he was so different, at least, to a degree. It had been something of a relief to know the why of Angel, why he had stopped being like all other vampires. It meant that he wasn't likely to revert back to his previous ways. She'd been - and still was - ready to stake him the second he started killing people and... everything else Angelus had done.
But at least now she knew what would have to happen for that to happen. Angel would have to lose his soul. I'm still just accepting that souls are a real thing, and now I have to accept that
Learning that he'd lost his soul in a moment of pure happiness while having sex with his seventeen year old girlfriend, on the other hand, had been something she really didn't need to know. She wasn't an idiot - people under the age of 18 had sex all the time. But it was usually with people who were their own age - or at least looked it. It bothered her, just a little bit.
But she was quite sure that the assumption Angel and all his ex's friends were operating under was incorrect. Sex itself wasn't perfect happiness - she'd had enough empty, meaningless sex to know that. Sometimes, the sex just made you feel worse after it was done.
He and Buffy had been in love, and it had been a pretty special kind of love. The whole once in a lifetime storybook shit she'd stopped believing was real when she was ten. It had been that love that did it. The fact that someone could love him despite what he was, despite what'd done. The sex was just the culmination of it all.
But at the end of the day, one just has to make sure there's no moments of perfect happiness for him. And given just how much Angel brooded, perfect happiness seemed a long time in coming.
But, Kate reminded herself as she let her thoughts drift, he's still that same person. Soul or not... and he could lose it. It might not be likely - there was no more perfect happiness between him and his ex any longer - but it could still happen.
And she needed to remember that. Needed to remember who and what he was.
At his core, Angel was Angelus, the mass murdering Scourge of Europe, and she had to be ready in case Angelus came back. In case Angel ever lost his soul again.
April 21st, 2000
Harry Abrams's Office, UCLA
"So, no luck so far?" Harry asked her ex-husband, cradling the phone between her head and shoulder as she continued typing a letter full of the bland excuses and explanations that kept her employed by a college where the people signing the paychecks really had no idea what she was doing.
"Not yet. I mean, I haven't hit everyone up yet, but so far nobody's heard of some new warlock in town stealing people's power and there's no word someone local is trying to give themselves an extra power boost. No one knows who killed any of these four magic users." Doyle sighed, "I'm startin' to wonder if it might be best for me to just jump ahead to the end of the line and go to Caritas already."
Harry chuckled a little. One of the things she was quite grateful to Francis for, now that she was living in Los Angeles, was taking her to Caritas and introducing her to the Host. She'd had a lot of interesting conversations with the green-skinned anagogic demon who ran the bar, and with several of the more friendly customers, and simply observing the place was an amazingly useful research opportunity.
On the downside, the drinks they make there are tasty enough I can't afford to go as often as I'd like. She'd order more than she really needed because they tasted so good. She'd wondered more than once if there was some magic that went into their mixing.
"Well, he's probably not going to be able to give you anything specific," Harry started, "but he'd be able to point you in the right direction. Or, even better, point Angel in the right direction."
"I am not taking Angel to Caritas. No way, Harry! Can you imagine siccing the Host on him? That would be cruel and unusual punishment."
For everyone involved, especially Angel. Harry giggled a little at the thought of the flamboyant, outgoing lounge demon talking to the ensouled vampire, urging him to bare his soul. Probably give him some ridiculous affectionate nickname too.
"Besides, I don't want to hear Angel - or anyone, really - sing Barry Manilow." Francis finished. "I don't suppose you have any ideas about this? Is it a demon?"
"It could be," Harry said, finishing up the letter and saving the document to print later. "I mean, there are demon warlocks, witches, shamans... but most that would be inclined to kill people to steal their power wouldn't want to use a human's power. Tainted and all that. I can reach out to a few friends in some of the more magically inclined demon circles, see if they know anything. But... it's probably a human. Most demon magic is a lot more ritualistic."
Though Harry had to admit, she wasn't sure how much of the ritual was custom and how much of it was really actually necessary. If she was going to keep helping Angel and her ex-husband, it might be good for her to learn more about magic, be able to differentiate better between demon magic and magic wielded by humans - and just how much of a difference there really was.
"I suppose some things can't ever be easy. You think If I asked nicely, the Powers would send me a vision to help out on this one?" Her ex already knew what answer she'd be giving, but it was a sign of his frustration he was asking it anyway.
"I don't pretend to understand your visions or these... Powers, Francis." Harry pointed out. "I can't exactly observe them, or ask them questions... there's not much for me to work with." She accepted that they were real - Doyle's visions didn't work like those of some normal seer, and she knew that in the supernatural world there were unobservable, unmeasurable powers at work, beyond the ken of humans, but since she couldn't study them... well, she couldn't know anything about them.
"Probably just how the blighted bastards like it, too," Francis observed, then sighed. "Best to go to Caritas now, I suppose, get it out of the way. If the Host can't help me, I haven't lost anything."
"A very good point. There's no need to sound so glum about it, Francis. You're actually a pretty good singer, or at least when you're not drunk." Harry immediately regretted saying that as soon as it came out of her mouth. Her ex-husband still drank, and honestly, she didn't see that ever going away completely - but he'd clearly long since stopped living as far inside the bottle as he had been in the last days of their marriage, and he seemed to have gotten better still ever since she'd finally had the divorce papers signed.
Working with Angel really was helping him, though Harry admitted she sometimes worried whether it would last.
"It's been a long time since I sang when I wasn't drunk, so I'll have to take your word for it," Francis admitted, then he added, "I'll call if there's anything else."
April 22nd, 2000
Angel's Apartment, Los Angeles
"I have something," Doyle said as he walked into the apartment, and Angel looked up from the microwave where his blood was warming up.
"Usually your contacts rustle something up sooner than this," Angel observed, "so whoever it is must be hiding well."
"Well, I didn't exactly get it from one of my buddies or drinking mates or what have you," Doyle explained. "I talked to a more... esoteric source. He didn't have anything specific, but he did say that I should tell you that if you go to this address at eleven thirty tonight, you might learn something." Doyle held out a piece of paper and Angel took a look at the address written in a neat, cramped handwriting that was nothing like Doyle's.
"That's helpful," Angel looked at Doyle pointedly. "What do you mean by 'esoteric'? Another seer?" Doesn't sound at all like an obvious trap. But then, Doyle would know that, so he had to have some reason to trust his source.
"Not exactly, boyo. The Host is... he can't see the future, not really, but he can read your destiny, guide your path. He's tried explaining it to me, but really?" Doyle shrugged. "I don't get how exactly it works. Went in one ear and out the other, ta be honest. But since my path is to help you out on your mission and all that... he said to tell you to go there, eleven thirty."
Angel looked at the address, memorizing it and then sticking the paper into a pocket. "You trust him?"
"The Host doesn't lie about what he sees. He has a code. Doesn't take sides - just helps people on their paths. Anyone who comes into Caritas, good or evil, can get his help if they ask nicely."
"Caritas?" The name sounded familiar for a moment, then Angel placed it. "That demon karaoke bar in Chinatown?" Doyle looked at him dumbfounded, and now it was Angel's turn to shrug, "I'm not completely ignorant of L.A.s demon underground. The guy I get my blood from mentioned it." The butcher in question sold a great deal of blood to Caritas, actually. The vampires there probably didn't drink it, but various kinds of animal blood could still be drunk by many different humanoid demons for various kinds of reasons.
"Yeah, that's the place. The Host owns it - and when you sing, he can read your destiny, help you find your path. Like I said." Doyle sat down in one of the chairs at the table. "I don't know what you'll find there tonight, but you'll find something out, I'm thinking."
Another reason for me to never go to that demon nightclub. On the list of things Angel never did, 'sing in public' was pretty close to the top. Still, he was grateful that Doyle had gotten the information, however he'd gotten it.
"And while you and the Detective go and find out what it is you're going to find out, I'm meeting up with a few more of my contacts, in case that only gives you half the info." Doyle stood and went over to one of the cabinets, pulling out a glass and a half-empty bottle of Irish Whiskey he'd stashed there a few days ago and pouring himself a healthy measure.
"You're expecting it to?" Angel took a sip from his blood, grimacing a little at the taste - a little worse than usual, this batch. Even at the best of times pig's blood was disgusting, but this... Angel made a mental note to check the rest of the batch, then toss it out if it was this bad. He'd just have to buy some more, if that was the case.
"The help the Host provides is always helpful, pal, but from what I've heard, it's never quite enough on its own. He's like the Oracles, but less full of himself," Doyle explained.
"The Oracles?" Angel didn't recall hearing Doyle mentioning them before, but he could hear the capital 'O' in the name.
Doyle opened his mouth, the closed it again. "Ah, damn, I'm not supposed to mention them. Forget I even said anything..." Doyle shook his head after Angel sent him a curious look, "There's need to know here, Angel, and if the Powers decide I'm not playing by their rules... well, I don't want to risk them getting off their celestial behinds and doing something more than sending me migraines with pictures. That part's bad enough."
Angel considered Doyle's words. "So you haven't been telling me everything from the start?"
Doyle shook his head, "Not everything, no. Like I said, there's levels of need to know here, and... I only know as much as I'm allowed ta know, and there's only so much I get to tell you. I'm sorry, but even telling you that much is a problem." He poured himself yet another measure of whiskey and downed it quickly. He started to pour a third time, but Angel pulled the bottle from his hands.
"If you're not going to tell me anything, at least be sober while you're doing it, Doyle." Angel commented dryly, closing up the bottle.
Mostly, though, he was unwilling to just stand there and watch Doyle drink the whole half-bottle right then and there. His friend really was drinking less these days, and he didn't want to see the man fall backwards on that progress.
Even articulating the thought brought Angel to a sudden pause, as he realized how much having Doyle around all the time had changed his entire approach to things.
Been a long time since I had a friend... Angelus could have maybe counted Penn as a friend, perhaps, but beyond that... Darla was his lover and sire, Drusilla had been a toy, Spike... he'd bullied Spike as much as taught him. They'd never really been friends.
Buffy's friends hadn't been his friends - especially not after he'd terrorized them all as Angelus. Willow at least had some good will towards him, and Faith might actually have some measure of respect for him - of a sort... but the rest? He knew Xander would gleefully dance on his ashes, and while Cordelia and Giles might not go that far, they'd be just fine with seeing him dust in the wind.
"There's nothing I can tell you, Angel." Doyle protested lamely. "You want to know more, you'll have to wait until I'm allowed to spill the beans, or figure it out yourself."
Well, it's pretty clear these Oracles are higher on the food chain between Doyle and the Powers. If the Powers were supposed to be the powerful entities on the side of good, then these Oracles had to be good... in theory. At least they were acting in opposition to demons and the like.
Didn't mean he should automatically trust them, though.
"Alright." Angel said after a long moment. "It is what it is."
Doyle nodded. "And now to change the subject to something a little less uncomfortable, you are going to tell the Detective about that info, right?"
"Assuming she accepts the 'got it from a demon that owns a karaoke bar that reads your destiny' explanation, yeah. Vague tips like this aren't exactly the kind of thing she's going to be happy with. Still, she's going to have to get used to it if she keeps delving into the supernatural." Angel shrugged.
April 22nd, 2000
Apartment Building, Los Angeles
"Your singing, destiny-reading demon didn't happen to give you an apartment number to go with this address and time?" Kate muttered, walking slowly through the halls next to Angel. They'd made their way up to the third floor, looking for something without any idea as to what they were looking for. And even as she looked, she couldn't help but be wondering just what the hell she was doing here.
I'm here on the advice of a demon that reads your destiny when you sing. Jesus Christ. This is actually my life now.
"He gave Doyle the same information I gave you, alright?" Angel shrugged. "Eleven thirty, this address. No apartment number, no name, no -" Angel was cut off by the sound of a scream coming from... one of the apartments on this floor!
Angel was moving before she could, crashing into the door of Apartment 312, knocking it off its hinges and onto the ground - and he was unable to enter, but just past him, she could see a man in a white suit, short blonde hair, holding a young woman by the front of her shirt, red light flowing between their eyes.
"LAPD, hold it right there!" Kate pulled her gun, shoving Angel out of the way and entering the apartment. "Put her down, now!" The man in the white suit dropped the woman, the red light vanishing as she collapsed into a heap. "Good. Now get down on your knees, and put your hands behind your head!"
"No, I don't think so," The man said calmly, his voice almost serene. He held out his hand pointing it towards the window - the open window - and before she could say anything else, before she could fire her gun, the air between him and the fire escape just outside the window... shimmered and then he was there, on the fire escape, without having moved in the space between...
Kate ran towards him, expecting him to start climbing down the fire escape - behind her she heard Angel running away from the apartment, probably towards the stairs and heading for the outside... but then the man in the white suit vaulted over the railings with ease, and then...
He started flying. Or at least doing a really good job of looking like it. He landed on the ground within seconds, even as Kate started running down the fire escape, trying to keep her eye on him as he started to run down the alley onto the street...
There's no way Angel will get there in time...
"Stop! Police!" She tried to shoot at the white-clad target as she ran, aiming for the perp's leg, but her shot missed wildly...
She dropped the ladder to the ground and started to chase after him - but the killer had sprinted out of the alley and onto the main street before she could even get moving...
"Damn it!" Kate kept running, moving after him, hoping to catch a glimpse of the guy, or maybe his car... But when she came around the corner, he was gone, and it was only Angel, running down the steps from the apartment building's front entrance.
"He escaped?!" Angel looked around, then back to her.
"He escaped," Kate confirmed, trying to clamp down on the rage boiling in her. There was nothing else she could have done to take down the killer, apart from maybe opening fire the moment she'd entered the apartment. But trying to hit to wound, at a moving target...
I should have just shot him first... he was about to kill someone, after all. Even leaving out the supernatural part, I would have been been able to justify it to any review or inquiry... or... when he was running, if I'd just been willing to risk killing him. If she hadn't been so concerned with just wounding him...
"Well, at least we got a look at him... and we saved his victim..." Yeah, those were upsides, even if they didn't do much to mollify her feelings of failure. "I can talk one of the police sketch artists into making me a sketch of the killer's face, off the record -" She mentally started running down the list of sketch artists that worked with the precinct... she'd helped Jacob out of an unpaid parking ticket a few months ago... he owed her a favor. She could call him, have him meet her at the station tomorrow.
"If you want to keep this off the record, there's no need for that. I saw him. I can draw him," Angel interjected, bringing her thoughts to an abrupt stop. "Vampires have perfect recall. I can draw you a sketch of his face, no problem."
Kate blinked, then raised an eyebrow. Angel wasn't one to lie... apart from saying he was a veterinarian, he hadn't actually lied to her once, even before she found out he was a vampire. And what the hell - at a place like Le Cirque, everyone lied about their job, anyway.
Still, she'd have never pegged him for an artist, photographic memory or not. So not only does he feel remorse for all his evil deeds, but he remembers each one perfectly? Talk about self-made hell.
"Alright," She nodded. "First we check on the victim, then you can get me that sketch."
April 23rd, 2000
Angel's Apartment, Los Angeles
"Where's your friend, Doyle?" Kate asked, as she followed him out of the elevator. Almost every time she'd dropped by, he was here, so it was a bit odd to not see the Irishman here, even if it was past midnight.
"He doesn't actually live here," Angel shrugged again. "Doyle has his own place. He just hangs around here a lot." Angel switched on the lights and went into the bedroom, returning with a large, but short wooden box which he set on the kitchen table and opened, taking out several artists pencils - she'd dated an art student in college and had learned more about the different kinds of drawing pencils than she really wanted to know - and several pieces of blank paper.
There were other drawings still inside the box though, and on top was a picture of someone Kate recognized - even if the picture hadn't been labeled with the young woman's name.
His ex, Buffy Summers.
It was a stunning picture, amazingly lifelike. She lifted it up to look at the other pictures beneath it, curious at what or who else he might have drawn...
"Don't." Angel said flatly, without even looking at her. Kate withdrew her hand after a moment's hesitation.
"Sorry," Kate shrugged, sitting down at the table across from him as he picked up one of the pencils and set it to paper. "Just curious. You're a hard man to learn things about - at least in the last hundred years."
"You're not exactly the most open and sharing person I've ever met either, Kate." Angel pointed out, not looking away from the paper as he started to sketch. "At least, not without magical influence."
Kate closed her eyes a moment, letting out a sigh. Now that was an evening she really, really wished she could just completely wipe from her memory. At least at the precinct, there was the silent agreement among everyone involved to never mention it again. Angel probably wouldn't have said anything if she hadn't prodded.
"Even with a sketch of his face, we need some idea of where to show it around... I can't put out a BOLO without explaining why I want him, or how I know he's connected to these murders, and I can't do that. Not yet. I suppose your friend could, but if we flash the perp's picture around too much..."
"It could spook him and he might just run for it, go to another city to keep killing," Angel nodded. "I'll draw a second copy for Doyle, give it to him in the morning. He might be able to show it around to a few of his more trustworthy contacts, at least." From the slightly skeptical look on his face, Kate got the feeling he wasn't sure if Doyle actually had any trustworthy contacts.
Kate nodded. "Worth trying, at least..." She sat back in her chair, watching as Angel started to focus intently on his work, moving his hand in smooth, economical motions as he sketched. It was something he did a lot, judging by how practiced the motions of his hand looked from where she was sitting. It was strange, to think of this vampire actually having a hobby. A perfectly normal, human hobby.
Of course his photographic memory might help things a little bit there.
Kate looked away - she couldn't quite wrap her mind around Angel having a human hobby. Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and thought back to the killer, and his intended victim.
The woman in question, Whitney, had still been unconscious when they got back to her apartment, but a quick glass of water had fixed that. The brief conversation she'd been willing to have - had been in a fit state to have - hadn't been very helpful. She'd never seen the man before in her life, and she wasn't even that powerful of a practitioner, at least according to her. A few minor rituals and spells, nothing fancy. And she hadn't known any of the other victims personally, though she'd known the magical loan shark, Grimes, by reputation. That didn't give them any connection they could try to draw.
She survived, and she said she still had her power, so at least we stopped the bad guy from stealing it from her for whatever he's planning. Assuming he was planning something. If the killer had been stockpiling guns, you could assume he was planning on using them for something specific, but then again some people - the crazy ones - were just paranoid and wanted to have a big pile of weapons because it made them feel safe. Or just to have them. For all she knew, this man was the magical equivalent.
Still, the way he'd spoken so calmly, escaped so smoothly. He struck her as the kind of man who tried to plan for everything, and he'd at least planned his escape if he was interrupted. The paranoid crazies usually didn't tend to do that, in her experience.
So he has some specific reason why he's doing this. Something he wants the power for. Only problem was, Kate had no idea what. There were no signs left behind, no clues, nothing that belonged to him. No hairs... she'd dusted the fire escape railing for prints, which had given her fingerprints, but without anyone to compare them too...
I can talk to someone at CSU, get them to run the prints, but that would mean a delay. They're always so backed up, and if I want that to stay off the record it would have to be after hours... big favor to ask.
Still, she could do it, but she needed a faster way to find her target. She needed some sort of clue.
Five people. All of them magic users of various kinds. Only one owned a shop, and nothing was stolen, and there's no sign anything was stolen from the homes of the others. Or any signs that their homes were searched. So if the killer was looking for something, it was something he expected to be obvious, and he presumably hadn't found it.
If he's just after power, why those four? It made sense, the theory that he was building up, using one person's power to let him steal the next, but then he goes after someone who isn't that powerful? Of course, that was assuming Whitney was telling the truth, but every sign indicated she was, so...
She was more or less back at square one. She had no clues, no ideas, no real leads, apart from a sketch of the killer's face.
"How did he just... disappear like that? He didn't leave in a car, and I wasn't that far behind him. So how did he just... vanish into thin air? Teleportation?"
"I suppose it's possible... but from what I understand, that's pretty risky magic, especially when you're in a big rush. Have to do it just right, or you could end up stuck inside a wall or a table or something. He could have gone invisible, but I should have been able to still smell him if he did that. Or even follow him by scent for at least a bit." Angel set down his pencil and held the sketch up.
The face looking back at her was the killer's face alright. There was nothing really distinctive about it - just looked like an ordinary face. White male. Maybe his early thirties, thinking back to seeing him in the flesh. Short blonde hair...
His clothing... you didn't see a lot of people wearing white suits these days, especially not in this town, Hollywood chic only went so far... and there was something else. He'd had something, in the front pocket of the suit. A handkerchief or something. Part of the whole fancy suit ensemble... But there was something about the handkerchief, something thing that was niggling at the back of her mind.
Kate leaned forward a bit, resting her arms on the table. "That suit he was wearing. It looked fancy. Expensive. I mean, I didn't really get a good look, but -"
"You're right, I saw it too," Angel agreed, "It looked expensive." She watched Angel close his eyes a moment. He gestured to his chest. "He had something in his front pocket, some sort of handkerchief or... something. It was... It was monogrammed."
That's it!
"It was... it had letters," Kate realized. "Two letters." She wracked her brain, trying to recall them, but given the lighting...
"Yeah... C and J. Sorta... stylized. Like this," Angel quickly sketched out a slightly overlapping and stylized C and J in the corner of the page that held his sketch of the man's face.
"Could be his initials." Kate theorized, then she sighed. "Or it could be the initials of the place he bought the suit from."
"It's something to go on, at least."
"Something, yeah," Kate sighed. "Just not sure how much." She stood up from her chair. "It doesn't make any sense, Angel. We thought he was going for victims that were progressively more powerful, but then this woman... she says she doesn't have a lot of power, and I believe her."
"So do I," Angel agreed. He considered something, and then said, "If his suit is as expensive as it looks, and he's willing to just... kill people to take their power - then he's probably a client of Wolfram and Hart, don't you think?"
Kate blinked, then realized Angel was right. She was still getting used to the notion that Wolfram and Hart wasn't just a law firm that represented evil people... but was evil itself. That hired demons and represented demons and vampires, facilitated their sins in all sorts of ways, for enough money...
"You're probably right, but that doesn't help us find him." Though it did mean it would be harder to bring the killer to justice, but she would find a way to make sure there was ironclad evidence. Something not even the evil lawyers could explain away.
"It could. Wolfram and Hart... they knew about the MacNamaras' fight ring." Now it was Angel's turn to stand up. "One of their lawyers tried to get me to leave it alone. They have their fingers in a lot of pies all over the city, from what I've heard." From Doyle or from others. "So they might be the ones feeding him his targets, if our power build-up theory was wrong . There's no listing in the phone book under 'wizard' or 'witch', so he'd have to know how to find them. They might be the ones who told him the who and how."
It's possible. Still… "You may be right. But unless he goes back there while we're watching... No. If any of those lawyers saw me staking out their office building, they'd file a complaint with the department and I'd end up on suspension for 'harassing' them and their clients. And you can't watch them during the day."
Kate rubbed at her temples before continuing. "I have... I've got nothing." She walked around the table and picked up Angel's sketch of the man. "I'll take this back to the apartment building tomorrow, ask around, see if anyone spotted him. Maybe he... scouted the place out before going in to kill her." She could do the same thing around the other crime scenes, now that she had a picture... it was a long shot, but at least it was something.
April 24th, 2000
LAPD 12th Street Station House
"Detective Lockley."
Kate looked up from her desk at the sound of her captain's voice, wondering what had gotten him to actually acknowledge her existence for once - he'd been pretending she didn't exist for months now.
"Sir," Lockley lowered her pen and gave him her full attention - no point in giving him any ammunition to try and reassign her as punishment.
"You want to tell me why you put a BOLO out on a license plate registered to Wolfram and Hart!? What was your basis for that?"
Kate gestured to the case file in front of her. "My case. I got to thinking - given the lack of evidence left behind at each murder, how well the whole thing was pulled off without witnesses, that suggested premeditated planning. Someone who knew the general area well, knew when to do it to have the best chance of no witnesses. So I asked around each murder scene, if there had been anyone or anything odd in the general area a few days before the murder."
"And you got a license plate out of 'anything odd?' This is L.A., Detective -" The Captain started, frustration evident in his voice, but Kate shook her head and interrupted the upcoming rant smoothly.
"No, sir; for each crime scene, I found someone who mentioned a man in a white suit in the area, three days before the murder. For all four murders. And one of the people I spoke with mentioned seeing him get into a black sports car. Something about focusing mostly on the car, because it was so nice-looking. So then I checked through traffic camera footage in the area around and the time around each sighting of the man. I found a black sports car matching the description for three of the murders, with that license plate."
That was partially a lie - she'd asked about men in white suits, shown the sketch, that part was true enough. The lie was that they'd remembered the man being around there on their own, without seeing the picture, without asking about a white suit. But she did have witnesses who placed him in the area. And that had led her to the car, and to the license plate. Checking the DMV database had shown it was a Wolfram and Hart owned car, the type that was loaned out to their richest clients if they needed a vehicle.
"That's pretty circumstantial, Lockley. Not to mention flimsy." The Captain pointed out, even though he looked somewhat uncomfortable saying it.
"At one of the murder scenes? Maybe. Maybe even two, but three out of the four, sir? Seriously, this car - possibly being driven by this man in white - three days before the murder at three scenes? That's something, sir, cases have been built on less." If only she could say she'd seen the killer in person, but if she did that then her captain want to know why she was in the area. Not like she could fob him off, especially under the current circumstances -
She was on thin ice - especially now that Wolfram and Hart really was involved. They'd probably complained about the BOLO on one of their cars, sending the Captain after her to cover his and the LAPD's ass from a lawsuit. All right, time to toss the boss man a bone...
"I'm not accusing this man of anything, sir. Not yet, anyway. I just want to talk to him, and this car is the only lead I have for finding him." Kate explained. "And if the man is a client of Wolfram and Hart, he can always ask for his attorney to be present when I talk to him."
The Captain inhaled sharply, "Tread carefully on this one, Detective. You're skating on very thin ice."
April 24th, 2000
Angel's Apartment, Los Angeles
"I've got a name on the bad guy," Doyle said as he walked into Angel's apartment from the lower floor entrance, holding up a piece of paper. He wasn't thrilled about the work he'd had to put into getting the name, the favors he'd had to call in just to get ahold of someone who could tell him who to talk to, but he'd finally gotten a name.
The things I do for the mission, yeah?
"See," Doyle started to explain, speaking loud enough so that Angel could hear him in the apartment wherever he was. "I talked to a buddy of mine, who put me in touch with one of his cousins. He had an old friend whose brother in law -" Doyle waved his hand. "A whole chain of people I had to talk to, but I finally got in touch with a guy who sometimes get subcontracted by Wolfram and Hart, helps handle some of their Client Services."
"Client services?" Angel asked, entering the main room.
"Yeah. They set visiting clients up in fancy hotel rooms, or get them stuff - sometimes illegal, sometimes just hard to find. The full concierge service for evil." Doyle shrugged, "Anyway, this guy, he wasn't willing to tell me much, what with Wolfram and Hart not being too fond of their employees or contractors running their mouths off and all, but after I dropped your name and gave him some cash, he was willing to tell me one thing," Doyle flopped down on the couch and held the paper out to Angel, who took it.
"Client came to Los Angeles from New York, name of Clayton Jasper. The guy got paid to supply Jasper with ten gallons of goat's blood. Never actually saw the man, just parked the van with the blood in an empty parking lot and left. Van's gone, of course, but Clayton Jasper? CJ?" Doyle shrugged.
"Makes sense," Angel said, nodding, looking at the paper. "Ten gallons of goat's blood? That is a lot of dead goats."
"You're telling me. He was talking about how many different places he had to go to get it all. Can't think of anything nice you'd need that much animal blood for. I mean, little bit for an offering, minor rituals, sure, blood has power and all that nonsense, but ten gallons? That's some pretty dark territory right there, boyo." Doyle reached into his pocket and pulled out another paper. "Had another vision too. Not urgent yet - got two days until you're supposed to meet this one, some guy named Victor, this address." Angel took that one too. "Probably enough time to find this guy, now that you have a name."
"A name isn't an address, but hopefully Kate can turn that name into something useful -" Angel started, and then, as if the Powers themselves had arranged everything to fall in line neatly, the phone rang. Doyle was right next to it, so he picked it up, bringing the phone to his ear.
"This is Angel's phone. For Angel, press one. For his much more interesting sidekick Doyle, press two."
"Hand over the phone to Angel," Detective Lockley said on the other end of the line, and she didn't sound amused at all.
Doyle held the phone out to Angel. "It's Lockley."
"Kate." Angel said, grabbing the phone. "You have an address? That's perfect, because Doyle found a name. Clayton Jasper." Pause. "Run the name, and I'll take the sewers, meet you at that address soon as it's dark." He hung up and then grabbed a scrap of blank paper from by the phone and wrote something down. And this time it was Doyle's turn to be handed a piece of paper.
"Kate found what she's pretty sure is Jasper's car, tracked it to this address. Look familiar?"
Doyle looked at the address for a moment, then shook his head. "Probably a warehouse - everything in that area is a warehouse or something close. But I don't know it offhand. And I'm probably gonna regret asking, but you need me to come with you and the detective, as backup?"
Angel shook his head, "No. Hold onto it, though. If Jasper isn't there, then you'll have to ask around about that place."
"Oh joy," Doyle stood up, not looking forward to yet another round of talking to his associates, buddies and contacts. It was always a risky business, and then there were the ones that remembered he owed them money. He didn't want to have to move, but if he kept this up, he'd have to - because his 'house of pies' trick could only work so much longer.
"I need a drink just thinking about how much lovely fun that'll be." He retrieved the bottle from underneath the counter, pouring himself a double before closing it back up. Just the one stiff drink, no need to finish of what was left of the bottle tonight.
"Here's hoping you catch the bastard," Doyle said, downing the glass quickly.
April 24th, 2000
Abandoned Warehouse, Los Angeles
From the outside, the warehouse looked more or less like any other. She'd looked into the address, and all she'd found was a string of shell corporations inside shell corporations - no idea who really owned the thing, but she'd eat her badge if Wolfram and Hart weren't the ultimate owners of the place.
"Well, this is where the goat's blood is," Angel observed, standing next to her. "All ten gallons of it, from the smell."
"Great." At least this was more confirmation that they had the right place. And now it was time to go in. Kate wished she had some police backup, but that wasn't possible, and if she'd had it, all she'd probably do was get them killed. "I'll go in first. If he has any... minions or something, keep them off me while I go for him. Got it?"
Angel nodded. "I've got it. Just... be careful, alright?"
Kate didn't say anything in response to that as she went to the door, checking to see if it was locked - which it was, sure enough.
Picking the lock, Kate was already planning excuses she could give about getting into the place without a warrant. She'd searched places without warrants before - Angel's apartment when she'd thought he was the killer at Le Cirque, for example. She didn't make a habit of it, but there were some rules she was willing to bend, and always had been, to do what was right.
Warrantless searches are one thing. Illegal, and probably hypocritical of her on some level, but reality and the finer points of warrant law didn't always meet, especially in the surreal reality of the supernatural.
As she opened the door, Kate's nose was assaulted by the smell of old blood, the metallic stench overpowering anything else she might have smelled from the place.
There was dried blood everywhere, painted on the walls in strange symbols, a few of which Kate remembered seeing in various books, but didn't know the meaning of. The symbols were on the floor too, and even on the support columns for the interior of the structure. Several of those support columns were in in strange places, their odd placement giving the interior an almost distorted look for a few seconds, and Kate realized that those ones had been... moved recently.
As she stepped further into the warehouse, she realized the whole place had been renovated very recently. There were obvious signs of an upper rafter area having been ripped out, for example.
The sound of chanting from the far end of the warehouse drew Kate's attention, and there he was - the man in white. The killer.
Clayton Jasper. He stood in front of a large circle drawn in blood on the floor, the circle dotted with burning braziers. She couldn't understand the words, or even hear them that well, given how quietly he was chanting; but at the center of the circle was a young man, bound, blindfolded and gagged to a chair.
I think he's distracted... Kate took several quiet steps into the building, Angel right behind her, and sure enough, there was no sign of Jasper hearing them or turning away from his chanting. The young man didn't seem to be struggling against his bonds... she had no idea how much time there was before something happened to him, some kind of sacrifice, but she wasn't going to let things get that far.
She just needed to be closer. She gestured at Angel, indicating for him to go around to the left of Clayton, while she moved to the right, and Angel nodded. She kept moving slowly, pulling her gun from its holster and taking off the safety. She wasn't going to shoot first unless it was to save the prisoner, but... she had to be ready to shoot. She palmed her badge into her other hand and drew closer. FInally, she got close enough that she could make out his murmured chants.
"-Aresh varis, koh'Taleth," Jasper chanted slowly, speaking what sounded more or less like gibberish to her. Then he abruptly switched to English…
"Accept this sacrifice as payment for your service, and cross over. Open! Open the way!" Jasper raised his voice to an almost thunderous pitch when he finished the chant, throwing his hands upwards and gesturing, the fire in the braziers suddenly turning into roaring pillars of flame for a few seconds before clamping back down.
Sacrifice. The prisoner. That was enough of that. "Freeze! Clayton Jasper, you are under arrest for murder!" She pointed her gun, holding ber badge up as she drew closer him. "Assume the position, mister. There's no fire escape for you to use this time!"
Jasper turned towards her slowly, lowering his hands to his side. "Detective Lockley. I suppose this is the point where I give you points for persistence, but I am rather busy at the moment," and his voice was back to the calm it had been the other night, in Whitney's apartment. He pointed his left hand at her and... once more the air shimmered between them, but this time she felt a blow hitting her, as if she was punched in the gut, and Kate staggered back, stumbling to the floor, gasping for air - her gun fell out of her grip and skidded a few feet across the floor.
As if she hadn't even interrupted him, Jasper turned back to the circle, resuming his chanting in that same language he'd been using before his switch to English.
Still sucking in breaths, she watched as Angel came at Jasper from the other side, not even bothering to to say anything to him as he lunged, attempting to tackle Jasper to the ground and disrupt his casting -
Without warning, Angel drew up short, as if he'd hit a threshold invitation barrier, stalled about a foot away from Jasper.
"Wolfram and Hart warned me about you," Jasper didn't even look at Angel as he began to make a series of complicated gestures, completely calm and assured of his own invincibility. "I'll admit, I didn't expect police interference, but I did know there was a chance you might get in the way of my work here, and I really can't have that. So I took precautions. Now... if you'll kindly go away..." Still without looking at Angel, he thrust his hands sideways, as if shoving something out of his way and Kate struggled to her feet, watching in horror as flames rose from one of the braziers and flew at Angel.
"Angel!" She cried out, her throat clenching as Angel's black duster caught on fire - the vampire fell back, rolling on the ground, struggling to pull his coat off - and in the process, his shirt caught flames as well... Then he managed to get that off too, leaving him bare above the waist and badly scorched, but at least the flames were gone... he'd survived.
Oh thank God. Kate turned her gaze back to Jasper, who was yet again seeming to ignore them as he continued to chant, and finally returning to English as the air in the circle, right behind the prisoner...
It... it ripped open. It was the only way she could describe it as something split behind the chair, coming apart and showing a fiery roiling mass, like looking directly at Hell itself...
Instinctively, Kate's hand went to the cross around her neck as Jasper spoke.
"Accept my offering! Come through and take this sacrifice, consume him and we shall strike an accord! Come through! The way is open!"
That man is going to die!
Kate looked to the gun out of the corner of her eye, remembering what Jasper just said. I'll admit, I didn't expect police interference...
Could he truly have been so arrogant? Jasper seemed to have planned for everything, but he was distracted now... if this was going to work, now was the time to do something about it.
Diving to the left, Kate grabbed for her gun - and this time she didn't bother with saying anything as a shape started to come out of the tear, flames reaching for the sacrifice. Life was on the line now...
She squeezed the trigger once, twice... three times she fired, right into the center mass. The first one seemed to have no effect even as it hit Jasper, but then the second bullet impacted and he staggered back, broken off mid-chant; but only for a moment.
"Yes! Yes! By the powers I have stolen by right of conquest and force, I call you to th-"
And the third bullet saw Jasper stagger back again, even further... and drop to his knees, blood staining his once-immaculate white suit.
"How -" Clayton managed to gurgle the beginning of the question, before falling forward flat onto his face.
For a split second, nothing to seemed to be changing - the fiery shape, starting to take the form of some sort of snake with arms was still moving towards the bound man, but then... it withdrew into the tear... but rather than seeing it close, the tear started to widen. Then it went still for a moment, a hole in reality leading to some sort of hellish world of fire and brimstone, and a vibration started to go up Kate's leg...
The ground is shaking... it was only a little bit, a minor tremor, perhaps? Bad, nonetheless, but something she couldn't get distracted by.
Kate pushed the thought out of her mind, running to the prisoner, hurriedly untying him and removing his blindfold and gag. But before he could say anything, she gestured for the door.
"Detective Kate Lockley, LAPD - get out of here, now. Wait outside!" The man didn't need a second prompting and he raced for the exit, shouting thanks at her as he ran, and Kate looked around, desperate for any sign of evidence that might tie Jasper to these murders in a way she could actually present to her superiors.
She had the prisoner, who could back up her assertion that Jasper was about to kill him, but - there was nothing tying the white-clad killer to the four murders, no evidence she could use, no -
Kate had been so busy looking for Jasper that she'd missed one last thing, against the wall in the very far end of the warehouse from the entrance. A desk, a computer, and a filing cabinet.
Please have something I can use...
Sparing a glance to Angel to make sure he was alright - and getting momently distracted, when it really registered that the man was shirtless...
Huh, not just the face of an ang- Kate all but slapped herself and pulled herself back to the moment, crossing the warehouse to the desk.
"Kate, his portal isn't closing! The spell is still active!" Angel said, walking behind her and to the left. "There's no telling what could happen, we need to -"
"We need to find evidence proving that Jasper was the man behind the murders, Angel. Something I can use to close this case, something the LAPD will actually pay attention to." She leaned over the chair and started using the computer - but when she turned on the monitor, she was immediately hit with a request for a password.
"Damn it!" The LAPD's IT division would have someone that could hack into it, but they weren't here right now...
"Maybe there'll be a way to stop this spell in these drawers," Kate suggested, gesturing to the desk and the file cabinet. Without waiting for a response, Kate put gloves on and opened one of the desk drawers. The first was just a few office supplies, but the second had a file folder in it - opening it up, she saw a complete file on the would-be fifth victim - name, address, map of the building, handwritten notes in the margin where Jasper had observed the area himself...
"Check the filing cabinet for the ones he killed... if we can show those... combined with the man he just tried to sacrifice... that should be enough..." Enough to close the case, and cover my ass. She had no problems with Jasper's death... she'd wanted to bring him in alive, would have preferred it, but the man was a monster...
And besides, she'd had to to it to save that man's life.
"I think I see -" Angel started, but before he could finish his sentence, the warehouse shook violently and then when Kate turned around, she saw the tear in reality starting to open once more.
Red light started to glow around Jasper's body, and then it started to... bleed - it was the only word Kate would think of - out into the air around him, the shaking growing more violent by the second.
"The spell..." Angel pulled away from the filing cabinet, racing towards the ritual circle, and the tear. "His death set the whole thing free... it took a few minutes for the energy to build up, but now the ritual is finishing itself... without anyone to stop it..." Angel turned to Kate. "We have to disrupt the spell, break the whole thing before it gets completely out of control. There's no telling what might happen if we don't stop it!"
"And if we don't?" Kate had no frame of reference for what was going on... she could see shapes in the distance on the far end of the tear... moving towards the tear, towards Earth. Large, humanoid... but giant, if she could even judge size at a distance across dimensions.
"I have no idea. Nothing good - but at least one of the consequences will be a giant portal to a hell dimension in the middle of Los Angeles, with a lot of magical power firing off on this end. Jasper might not have been able to summon and bind whatever he was after, but all that loose power bleeding out of him is going to be like a huge neon invitation sign for the demons native to... wherever that is," Angel gestured to the tear.
"A neon sign that says 'Demons welcome, please invade Earth!"
That would be bad.
"How do you propose we... disrupt the -" The warehouse shook again, one of the braziers falling over onto the ground, the flaming coals flying out. "Angel! The braziers - we have to get the evidence out of here, before any more fall over and -"
"Wait! That's it!" Angel interrupted her. "Rituals like this need everything to be just so, and - this place was just renovated. I can still smell the sawdust... everything had to be arranged just right in here for Clayton Jasper to cast his spell... we have to destroy this building to seal that portal, and the best way to do it is to burn this place down!"
Kate blinked - was he serious? "Angel! No - I"m not going to burn down this warehouse - I'm not going to commit arson!" The very thought... what the hell was wrong with him? I'm an officer of the law! I don't destroy buildings, and I don't destroy evidence! "I'm not breaking the -"
"You didn't care about breaking the law when you searched my place without a warrant, Kate," Angel threw back at her. "Or coming in here without a warrant, either. If the law actually acknowledged demons and magic and portals, they'd probably cover this under the same rules that let you shoot someone to save another person's life. But the law doesn't - you can't fight the supernatural and follow all the rules about being a cop! Or even most of them!" Angel started to brush past her, heading for another brazier, but Kate moved to stand in front of him.
He's, he's right. Right? If there is a portal to a hell dimension just standing open...
"Wait - just let me get the evidence, find the files..."
"Kate, we don't have time! Every second we waste is one second more that the spell could end up self-sustaining, or those demons over there could come through and start destroying L.A.!"
Kate stood stock still, processing what Angel was saying for several seconds as the vampire moved around her, grabbed another brazier and threw it into the wall, letting the flames start to lick at the outside of the structure...
The evidence - the files, the body... anything else that could be here...
Kate had no way of knowing if Angel was right, but she'd learned by now to trust his instincts...
Goddamnit... no, I can't-
Yes I can. I don't have a choice.
"Damn you, Angel!" Kate abruptly gave up and went to another of the braziers and, angling her kick carefully, kicked the bowl and the fire within into one of the support columns.
I can't even begin to imagine how many lies it's going to take to cover all this up...
Angel was right about one thing. She was running up against the limits of the law, and hard.