Illyria walked quickly into the museum on Great Russell Street in London. She threw open a pair of double doors with the limp dead body of a guard. Giles looked up from a rather old, odd looking artifact, startled. He watched her as she made he was towards him, stepping over the guard like he had meant nothing. She stopped only ten feet away from him. "Who are you?" He asked in a shaky voice. He mentally checked the room, for anything that could be used as a weapon. Nothing.
She took another step closer, and asked her own question, acting as if he had never spoken. "Where is Willow Rosenburg?" She stared at him, looking at him up and down. Slightly turning her head in confusion. Why had Angel asked her to come to this mortal man. If Willow was who she needed for the spell to bring back the others, then she would find Willow. But still she was lost in all of it.
"Willow? What do you need her..." She cut him off. Placing a finger to her lips and looking up at him though her glaring eyes.
"Where. Is. Willow?" She asked again, her voice was low and angry. Giles took a step away. She followed after him by taking a step forward. Why do mortals have to complicate things? Why couldn't they just leave it and answer the question? These were questions she always asked herself.
"She was visiting her friend, Buffy Summers last I heard...in Italy." He said rushing, hopping to get Illyria away from him. He didn't like the way she stared at him. She only stared because of his British accent. It reminded her of the erratic blond vampire, Spike. She felt a twinge of grief for him, then nothing more. What she did feel was pain, for Spike was not the only one that this man's accent reminded her of.
"Italy..." Illyria said turning away from Giles, walking to the door. She came to an unwanted stop when Giles spoke. He could have left it at that. She found no other reason as to why he would be speaking.
"Who sent you? Why are you looking for Willow?" He took a step towards her, unaware of what he was doing. He got to close and Illyria sent him flying across the room. It wasn't just the fact that this man annoyed her, but the fact that he made her remember. He hit the wall and then fell to the floor with a huff. He opened his eyes in time to see her as she walked out the door. He stood up holding his stomach where she had hit him. He bent over and heaved blood and flem fell to the floor. "I...I have to warn Buffy." He slowly turned away from his vomit, and slowly walked towards the phone.
"Italy?" Angel said, angry that Illyria had come back without Willow. "Why aren't you there already?" He asked voice getting louder with anger.
"I have no way to get there..." She hiss back placing her hands down on his desk with more force then necessary, getting ready to fight if he attacked her. "I don't have the money to get on one of those flying things, humans call airplanes."
"No money? More like the wrong form. How do you think people are going to react when you walk into the airport? I should go myself..." He said walking away from the bookshelf. He had just got the book of resurrection out, when she had walked in. Now he was putting it away again. "You should stay here until I get back. Make yourself at..."
She cut him off stopping him from reaching the door. "If you have money I will take it...my form is not a problem." Angel rose one eyebrow, but he turned and walked to his desk. He knew he wouldn't win a fight against Illyria, she was just as stubborn as he was. He handed her the money and watched as she walked out his apartment. He sat at his desk and waited. It occurred to him then how she had made it to England. He didn't dwell on that fact. He got up, and walked over to his bookshelf. He had just pulled the book out, when there was a light knock on the door.
"Illyria, just go!" the door opened slowly and three large demons appeared. They all looked very alike, but Angel didn't have time to notice. He dropped the book and jumped behind his desk. Looking for a weapon.
"Ah crap" Angel said grabbing a large battle Ax from under his desk and getting ready for a fight. It wasn't the first weapon he would have chosen for himself, but he figured it would do.