20  -  Guilty as Sin

#
 

Ten Vampire Masters looked on in consternation as the eleventh of their number threw the body of a brain-dead Vampire at their feet.

"Would you care to explain this to us, Darla?" Jean de Chevallier said with every bit of dignity she could muster.

"I intend to do so." Darla said, taking her seat at the table. "This soldier was part of an attack upon my childe Angelus. His comrades have captured Angelus and spirited him away to parts unknown."

"You have our sympathy, Darla," Master Elizabeth Mayhew said, "yet I do not understand why you bring this matter before the Vampirium."

Spike, who had accompanied Darla - after being given explicit instructions to keep his mouth shut and not to attack anyone - walked toward the fallen Vampire and wrenched the suit from his back, exposing the brand on his shoulder.

"This attacker is one of Grigori's personal troops." Darla said into the hush. "I demand that Master Nicolai Grigori be summoned before the Vampirium and answer for this insult to the Order of Aurelius."

There was whispered conversation among the other Masters for a moment, then Chevallier straightened and looked at Darla.

"Master Grigori has informed us prior to this meeting that he would be unable to attend. Therefore I propose that this matter be postponed until ..."

"Not satisfactory!" Darla interrupted her fellow Master.

For a moment stunned silence reigned and Darla did not give anyone the opportunity to comment on her break of protocol.

"Grigori has kidnapped my childe. Furthermore evidence suggests that he might well be the one responsible for the theft of the Necronomicon Nocturnum."

"This is preposterous!" Master Malya Tushumi said. "The members of this body are ..."

"Only a Master has the resources and means to achieve the theft." Darla interrupted again. "Only a Master is capable of warding his minions' minds to the point where they suicide before revealing their Master's plans. And now Grigori has kidnapped the only man on the face of the Earth who has ever successfully used the Necronomicon Nocturnum. Do I need to say more?"

She hoped not. While it was clearly proven that Grigori was responsible for Angel's kidnapping, connecting him with the theft of the book was guesswork at best. Logical guesswork, surely, but there was no proof.

"He is also the only one who was unable to attend this meeting." Darla added.

"Yet wasn't it Grigori who most actively supported the use of Vampirium resources to help in the recovery of the book?" Chevallier asked.

"Certainly." Darla answered. "That way he always knew where we looked and how close we where to him. The better to hide from us."

Again there was a lot of whispered discussion among the other Masters while Darla was burning with impatience. This was taking too long. God alone knew what Grigori was doing to Angel in order to make him cooperate. She knew how strong her childe was, yet she also knew that every man could be broken, no matter his strength.

"Darla!" Chevallier once again addressed her. "We concede that the evidence you present warrants further investigation. What do you propose?"

"Master Grigori must answer these accusations." Darla said. "He must be brought before the Vampirium, by force if necessary. The Order of Aurelius is ready and able to accomplish this, if we are given the location of Master Grigori."

Most Masters guarded the locations of their private retreats even from their fellow Masters. Darla knew only too well that she and Angel had made themselves more vulnerable by making the Hyperion their home, a location that was known to all the Masters. There was no telling if any of the Vampirium knew where Grigori was holed up.

Chevallier looked around at her fellow Masters and saw nothing but empty looks.

"I am afraid that Master Grigori has kept the location of his retreat secret from the Vampirium." She said.

"Since that is the case," Darla said, trying to maintain her calm, "I want the Vampirium's permission to utilize the same resources given to the Order of Aurelius for locating the Necronomicon in the search for Grigori. And I want the Vampirium's consent that, once he is found, those same resources might be applied to capturing him."

There was shocked silence again. It was unheard of in the long history of the Vampirium for all the Masters to combine forces against one of their own number. There had, of course, been conflict between individual Orders more often than not, but never had one warred against all the others.

Yet this was a situation unlike any other. So were the stakes.

#

Buffy and Giles were waiting outside in the car, anxiously awaiting Darla and Spike's return. When the two Vampires finally exited from the building and came toward them Buffy was too impatient to wait even a second. She climbed out of the car and ran to meet them.

"What did they say?"

"They weren't happy." Darla said. "Which is putting it mildly. Yet they agreed to question Grigori. They also agreed to give us all the help we need to locate him. If Grigori refuses to cooperate we have their consent to use force against him."

Buffy sighed in relief, but then went through Darla's words once more.

"They will help us locate him? That means they don't know where he is?"

"Unfortunately not." Darla nodded unhappily. "Grigori's retreat is know to be somewhere in Russia, but that is a very vast area to look for a single Vampire."

Buffy balled her fists in frustration.

"Great! That means we're back to square one. How the hell are we to find him anyway? We didn't have much success these last few weeks, did we?"

Everyone could hear the fear in her voice. It wasn't just a matter of the book anymore. That was a danger that seemed distant to her. Angel, though, he was anything but distant. Losing him, even thinking about it, made her sick with fear.

"I've made some calls on the way down." Spike said. "There aren't a lot of Grigori's lackeys here in America, but we will round up those we can find and make them tell us where he is."

"The last one wasn't very talkative." Buffy said.

"I also called Luke." Spike just said, in a tone that sent a chill down Buffy's spine. "He's on his way here."

"Luke?"

"He is a fellow childe of Heinrich Nest." Darla said. "He has a way to ... convince people. Nothing to do with hypnosis or anything."

Buffy nodded, allowing herself to feel the tiniest ember of hope.

#

Buffy and Spike took off in one car, heading for a local Vampire hangout where Spike was sure they'd find some members of the Order of Grigori. Giles and Darla slowly drove back to the Hyperion.

Giles looked at the quiet Vampire sitting beside him and could feel her worry like a tangible thing.

"You think we will find him?" He asked her.

"I hope so." Darla just said, looking out at the dark street. "I'm just not sure we will be in time."

A moment later she turned to him with a very serious expression in her midnight blue eyes.

"Rupert, you have to promise me something. I know that Angel already made Buffy promise him the same thing, but I am not sure she will be able to go through with it. She loves him so much."

"Promise?" Giles asks.

"If Grigori succeeds, if the Restoration is reversed, you have to kill us! Help Buffy kill us, all of us, before we can do any harm!"

Giles' first instinct was to protest. How could she even think about demanding this from him? Especially now when the two of them ... the two of them what? He and Darla might have grown closer over the last few weeks, but did it really mean anything? He was an old man, while she would be eternally young. Maybe she enjoyed his company, but that didn't mean she wanted more. He wasn't quite sure what he wanted himself, after all.

Besides, he had to approach this from a rational standpoint. If the Restoration was reversed they would have a horde of bloodthirsty killers on their hands. Giles had read the book on Angelus, the Scourge of Europe. He had also read about Darla, William the Bloody, and the other members of this illustrious family.

By now he was sure that he knew Darla the person, at least to a certain degree. She had nothing in common with the demon that had worn her face and reverting to that would kill this woman that he was so fascinated with as surely as a stake through the heart would.

He cared for her, there was no denying that to himself. That meant he had no choice.

"I promise!" He simply said.

"Thanks, Rupert." She said, squeezing his hand for a moment, then turning back to stare out into the night.

#

"Now we can begin." The sorcerer mumbled, concentrating on the magic gathering between his fingers.

In the cell some rooms away Angel suddenly found that he was no longer alone. In the cell with him were several dozen people, coming toward him with grim faces.

He knew all those people, he realized. He clearly remembered killing them.

The sorcerer smiled when he heard the first screams.

#

In another part of the fortress Faith was raiding an icebox to silence the rumbling in her stomach, at the same time trying to figure out how to convince the non-English speaking operator on the other end of the phone to connect her to America.

21  -  Airborne Slayer Squadron

#

Four days.

Four days since Angel had been kidnapped by Grigori's men. Four days in which the man she loved might have undergone the worst of tortures in order to make him open the Necronomicon Nocturnum and take the souls away from the Vampire race.

Three days.

Three days since a telephone call from Faith had given them a location somewhere in Russia, where Grigori was be hiding. No one was certain that Faith could be trusted, yet neither could they afford not to follow up on her call for help.

One day.

One day ago they had finally managed to get underway with enough manpower to take on the Vampire army that Grigori had gathered to defend his retreat, if Faith's information could be trusted. Luke had arrived with the best the Order of Aurelius had to offer. The Vampirium had sent their own special enforcers, the Order of Tarakan.

Ten minutes.

In ten minutes the assault on Grigori's retreat would begin.

Buffy looked around the cramped interior of the plane and tried to calm her Slayer sense, which was tingling like mad. Not surprising, since she was currently one of only three living humans on board this plane. All the others were dead.

Luke was a big and muscular Vampire, not a man of many words, but with a stare that could speak volumes. He and the Vampires he had brought along wore black combat suits and were currently busy loading up with enough weapons and munitions to start a small world war.

The men and women of the Order of Tarakan sat on the other side of the aisle, looking grim and ready. They were dressed in black as well, but carried few firearms or the like. Each had a large sword strapped to their backs and several smaller weapons Buffy had never seen before. She didn't doubt they were every bit as deadly as Luke's men. Giles had paled when he heard who they were.

Buffy herself had been outfitted by Spike, who sat beside her with a look of determination on his face. Black combat suit, two guns with silencers that rode low on her hip, a knife so long that it was almost a sword strapped to her back, night vision equipment, earplug radio with throat mike, everything the happy black ops commando needed for a midnight raid.

Truth to tell she felt a little out of place here. Not because she was the only non-Vampire that would participate in the actual attack on the castle, but because she was the only one not trained for attacks of this kind. The Slayer handbook didn't include things like parachute jumps or automatic weapons. Luke and Spike had given her a crash course in commando tactics on the way here and she felt fairly confident she could hold her own, yet the butterflies in her stomach remained.

Wild horses couldn't have kept her away, of course. Thankfully neither Luke's men nor the Tarakans had objected to having the Slayer along. If anything her reputation far exceeded her actual accomplishments. She shook her head. A year ago she wouldn't have dreamed of something like this. A commando raid with more than three dozen Vampires beside her on a fortress somewhere in Russia to free yet another Vampire.

A Vampire she loved more than life itself.

"Two minutes!" Luke said, coming out from the cockpit where Buffy caught a short glance at Giles, Wesley, and Darla. Darla was dressed for the occasion and looked every bit as determined as any of the other Vampires. She was quietly talking with Giles and Wesley. The two ex-Watchers would remain on the plane, much to their own chagrin, yet Buffy was glad they wouldn't come with them.

This was not a place for humans.

"One minute!" Luke said.

Everyone started to saddle up. Buffy slipped on the breathing mask Spike had given her. She was the only one here who needed the oxygen that was sorely lacking at a height of more than fifteen thousand feet. That was the part she didn't like about this entire attack. The little fact that the plane wouldn't land.

Their plane was following along commercial air routes, so that any radar coverage Grigori might have wouldn't think twice about them. Luke had explained to Buffy what a HALO jump was and she didn't like it at all. She had never jumped out of a plane before - figuring she had more sense than to jump out of a perfectly serviceable airplane - and now they expected her to do something like this.

HALO jump. High altitude, low opening. Meaning she would spend most of the fifteen thousand feet separating her from the ground in free fall. Only when they dropped below the altitude where radar could pick up their parachutes would they open them, so as to come in undetected. Sounded easy, Buffy thought. Right.

"Go!" Luke yelled. The door was wrenched open and the cabin pressure dropped like a stone. Bad analogy, Buffy! Bad analogy! Men and women started jumping out the door. Spike was by her side, as was Darla. They would jump hand in hand until they had to open their chutes, then she was on her own.

The next moment she was past the door and the only thing she saw were clouds and a dark landscape far below her, coming closer extremely fast.

#

Grigori and the sorcerer watched with smiles on their faces as Angel was curled in a corner of his cell, burying his face between his knees, whimpering incomprehensible words. They couldn't see the nightmares that had been assaulting him nonstop these past three days, but the results pleased them.

"Angelus!" The sorcerer called out to him.

"Make it stop!" Angel whimpered between sobs. "Make it stop!"

Grigori watched him and felt a pang of sympathy in his thrice-damned soul. It was bad enough to remember everything he had done and feel regret, yet seeing all his victims in the flesh, accusing him, tormenting him, ... he didn't want to imagine what it felt like.

Not even one as strong as Angelus could bear it.

"We can make it stop, Angelus!" The sorcerer said in a voice sweet as honey.

The captured Vampire looked up, bloodshot eyes staring at them with but the barest hint of sanity visible in them. His clothing was in tatters, his skin covered with scars where he had torn into himself in a desperate attempt to get rid of the ghosts. He was starved, having been without blood ever since he was captured. He hadn't been allowed sleep ever since his capture.

He was ready.

"Make it stop?" Angel asked, unable to keep the desperate hope from his voice.

"We can silence the voices, Angelus! We can silence them forever! But we need your help to do it."

"Help?"

Grigori motioned for a minion to open the cell door and the sorcerer beckoned for Angel to come on out. Angel rose to his feet, swaying with the effort, and slowly came toward them. He flinched now and then, as if someone was striking at him. The ghosts were still there, it seemed. Still lashing out at him.

"You must do just a small thing for us, Angelus." The sorcerer said. "Then the voices will stop. They will go away forever and never bother you again."

"Never again?" He asked.

They led him out of the room and toward a table. Angel's eyes found the dark object lying on top of it and his steps faltered.

"No!" He whispered. "I ... I won't ..."

"It will make the voices stop, Angelus!" The sorcerer reminded him. "Just open the book for us and you will be free."

Angel stumbled as a man he had killed over a hundred years ago slapped him across the mouth, calling him a monster. His father was there, telling him how much he hated him. His little sister, who had invited him into their house, screamed in terror as she saw his face, his real face.

"They will go away!"

The book was there, the Necronomicon Nocturnum. Angel felt it calling to him. More than ninety years had passed since he had last touched it, but he remembered the feeling. The book remembered him as well and called out to him across the room. It wanted him to touch it. It wanted to open for him, for he was worthy.

Angel made a step forward.

#

Faith watched from the shadows of the ceiling, feeling tired, hungry, and extremely pissed. Where the hell was the cavalry? She had called them three days ago and even though their connection hadn't been the best she was sure that Wesley had said something about coming as fast as they could.

She had exercised more patience and restraint these last three days than she would have expected herself to need across an entire lifetime, but now time was running out. She had played with the thought of freeing Angel, but he had been guarded at all times. From the look of things he was about ready to break - something she wouldn't have believed possible a few days ago - and no matter what happened, she couldn't allow him to open the book.

Faith knew only the barest essentials of the Restoration and the Necronomicon Nocturnum, but a little guesswork and lots of overheard conversations during the last three days had enabled her to piece things together. That was the book Angel had worked the Restoration with. The bad guys wanted to undo it and become even more bad in the process. She didn't need to know any more than that.

There were at least a dozen Vampires in the room right now, minions watching their Master, prepared to intervene should Angel not be as broken as he looked. Too many to take on all by herself. Yet what choice did she have? If she didn't stop them now ...

Where the hell was Buffy?

#

Buffy had no clear idea how she had reached the ground and she didn't want to think about it. She only remembered an endless fall and a sudden lurch when her chute had opened. It would probably give her nightmares in the nights to come, but now all thoughts of it were banished from her mind.

The Tarakans went in first, not making a sound as they quickly overwhelmed the perimeter guards around Grigori's retreat. They didn't kill the guards, as the explosion of dust was too loud for their comfort. They simply used their swords to slit throats, then cleaved off arms and legs and left things like that, helpless bundles of flesh in their wake.

The retreat itself was some kind of old mansion, almost a castle. Buffy wasn't here to sightsee, though. She followed Spike and Darla in complete silence, watching the Tarakans do their bloody work with a shudder running down her spine. It took them but a few minutes to reach the mansion proper and find an entrance.

It didn't go down without casualties.

Grigori's men were good and one of them lived long enough to shout out a warning. Pandemonium started scant seconds later. The silence was shattered by the sounds of machine guns and screams, shouted orders and explosions of Vampire dust. Buffy had her knife in one hand, a gun in the other, and stopped thinking.

The world was reduced to small corridors filled with black-clad shapes. Allies and enemies could be told apart only by the barest nuances and Buffy surrendered herself to her instincts and reflexes. A shudder went up her arm every time she swung the knife, the recoil of the gun was almost familiar to her by now. Dark figures dropped left and right as the Slayer carved her way through the mansion, flanked by grim-faced Tarakans and gun-wielding Aurelians.

With stealth abandoned the number of enemies grew quickly, yet Buffy didn't care. Angel was here, that was the only thing on her mind, and everybody between her and him was just another obstacle to be removed. Terror spread ahead of her as the guards realized that the boogeyman of Vampirekind moved among them.

Buffy had never experienced anything like this, but the horror of it didn't touch her. Maybe later, but right now the Slayer was ascendant inside her and turned her into the very killing machine the Watchers had always wanted her to be. The Slayer moved, the Slayer killed. Nothing else existed.

She had no idea how much time had passed when they exploded into a room filled with Vampires and lit only by candlelight. The Slayer inside her quickly catalogued the number of enemies present and decided how to best dispose of them.

Buffy only saw Angel, though, standing on the other side of the room, one hand hovering above a large black book.

"Angel!" She yelled, even as she suddenly saw Faith drop from the ceiling like a wraith of death.

Then the screaming started.
 

22  -  Two Slayers are Better than One
 

#
 

Faith heard the commotion outside and figured that the cavalry had arrived in the nick of time. From the sound of things Spike and the others were kicking serious ass. The big Vampire called Grigori was distracted, talking to his men, listening to shouted reports, but the magic guy in the flowing black robes never wavered.

Angel seemed unaware of the calamity surrounding him, his eyes were glued to the book. Faith cringed inside seeing the sorry state of him, yet she couldn't allow that to touch her right now. Grigori had just sent a few of his men outside to help in the battle. Now, if he only sent a few more of them away, she'd be able to ...

The big doors of the room exploded into shrapnel and a dark tide of fighting Vampires surged through. Faith had half a second to see Buffy and Spike right in the thick of it, then her eyes snapped back to the spectacle directly below her. Angel was reaching out to touch the book.

Thought and action became one as she abandoned her hiding place and dove into the mayhem below. She touched the floor directly beside Angel and slammed him aside, snatching his hand away before he could touch the Necronomicon. Grigori screamed and the magic guy yelled something in a language that made no sense to her whatsoever.

She was barely back on her feet when something caught her around the throat. She didn't see anything, no hand, no claw, nothing, but something constricted around her neck like a noose and stole the air from her lungs. Faith saw the magic guy, his hand moving as he was strangling someone. Who did he think he was, Darth Vader? Unfortunately it seemed to work.

The sound of the fighting died away as the only thing Faith still noticed was the pounding in her ears and the burning need for air in her chest. When had she fallen to her knees? She couldn't remember. The magic guy was grinning at her and she wanted to rip him into pieces, but she couldn't move, her strength was draining away. Her vision started to grow fuzzy.

A dark shape slammed into the sorcerer and suddenly Faith could breath again. For a long moment she just knelt on the floor, pumping air into her lungs, then she was back on her feet without needing to think about it. She saw Angel, his eyes blazing with anger and a barely restrained demon, raining blows down on the sorcerer.

Grigori was behind him suddenly, a knife in his hands. Faith was moving toward him before she finished that thought and slammed into him like a missile. The knife that had been aimed at the heart scraped along Angel's back, drawing blood.

Neither Faith nor anyone else saw one of the drops of blood fly through the air and fall on the Necronomicon Nocturnum.

#

Buffy managed to break free of the seemingly solid mass of fighting in time to see Faith tackle Grigori. Angel screamed as the knife scraped along his back, but he seemed able to get past the pain. The man he held down tried to fight, but Angel just continued pounding him into the floor.

Buffy's first impulse was to be by his side, but she realized that he didn't need any help right now. Faith did. Grigori was a mountain of a Vampire and a blow he landed almost took Faith's head off.

Buffy was there in an instant and attacked him. He seemed to barely feel her blow, yet it diverted his attention away from Faith. The moment he swung at Buffy, missing by the barest margin, Faith was back on her feet and kicked him into the back. Buffy struck next, then Faith, the two of them falling into a rhythm without needing any words.

They moved like a single entity with two bodies, attacking Grigori from all sides at once. The ancient Vampire fought with the strength of a hundred men, but he was unable to so much as touch one of his opponents without immediately paying for it at the hands of the other. He was quickly bleeding from a dozen wounds and started to slow down.

Angel's scream shattered Buffy's concentration. She saw him staggering back from the man in the black robes, who had somehow gotten his hands on Grigori's knife. Angel's shirt was in tatters and a large, ragged cut drenched his chest in blood.

The moment of distraction was too long. Grigori's fist connected with Buffy's head and threw her halfway across the room, almost back into the ongoing fight that still surged near the big double doors. The room spun around her as Buffy tried to regain her balance, she saw Luke and Spike, Darla, the Tarakans, Faith, Angel, ...

The Necronomicon was on the table and it was glowing. The robed man was staring at it in wonder, as well as at his own hands, drenched in blood. Angel's blood. He moved toward the book.

"Yes!" Grigori yelled and swatted Faith aside, leaping for the table. The robed man was there, his hand hovering over the book. Buffy raised her gun, not really knowing if she had any bullets left. Faith flipped back to her feet and started to leap.

The robed man touched the book, Angel's blood on his hand, and the room was filled with an unearthly brilliance that forced Buffy to cover her eyes. Someone laughed and the fighting stopped immediately, everyone too busy saving their eyesight to do anything else.

By the time Buffy could see again three things had happened.

The Necronomicon was open and glowing.

Everyone in the room was frozen, their bodies surrounded by a dim red glow.

The same glow surrounded her and she found herself completely unable to move.

"Blood is the answer." The robed man said triumphantly. "I wouldn't have believed it to be so simple. Thank you for the donation, Angelus!"

Angel was standing but a step away from them, frozen as the others, staring at Grigori and the robed man with mad fury in his eyes. For the first time Buffy could get a full look at him and the state he was in made her want to weep. What had they done to him?

"Just touching it strengthens me a hundred fold." Only now did she see that the robed man's hand was glowing the same dim red as they all did. He had to be a mage. Magic was holding them all immobile. If she could just take him out ...

"Then what are you waiting for?" Grigori asked, sounding extremely impatient.

The sorcerer looked at the book that he was now touching, touching without bursting into flames. He laughed as the runes formed themselves into words he could read, words of power he could invoke.

He saw the spell that had worked the Restoration of Souls. He knew the spell, knew it inside out.

Knew how to reverse it.

"Shall we test it now?" The sorcerer asked Grigori, flush with the power in his hands.

Grigori looked at Angel, grinning broadly.

"Yes," he said, "do it!"

The sorcerer complied, the words he could see forming on the pages beneath him spilling across his lips, power building between his fingertips. Angel was straining against the crimson glow that held him, but to no avail.

Golden light exploded from the sorcerer's hands and enveloped Angel where he stood. Buffy lost sight of him in an instant, but the room was filled with his scream.

"Angel!" She yelled, putting all her strength against the spell that kept her immobile. She could feel it give, the sorcerer distracted by the new spell he was weaving, and managed two awkward steps forward. Just two more and she would reach the mage, then she could ...

The golden light faded and Angel knelt on the floor, no crimson glow surrounding him. After an endless moment he stood, his face turned away from her.

"Angel?" She asked, forgetting about everyone and everything else in the room.

"How do you feel, my friend?" Grigori asked.

Angel looked up, a smile spreading on his lips.

"I feel just fine." He said, then started to laugh.
 

23  -  The Terror

#

"Angel?" Buffy asked, not believing what her brain was trying to tell her. It couldn't have happened, it was simply not possible.

Angel stood in front of her, his clothing in tatters, bleeding from a dozen wounds, and he was laughing. His face slipped into the demon visage, amber eyes blazed, and he laughed. She had heard him laugh a few times before - not nearly often enough, she had thought before now - but never like this.

"I forgot how good it feels." He said as he finally stopped laughing. "So very good."

"Angelus, I presume." Grigori said, smiling.

"Let me check!" Angel said. "Fangs, check! Unbeating heart, check! Soul? Soul?" He tapped his hands over his clothing, as if he was looking for something in his pockets. "Nope, no soul. I guess I lost it somewhere."

Buffy could do nothing but stare at him. The crimson glow she had briefly broken free from surrounded her again, keeping her completely immobile. The sorcerer needn't have bothered right then, though. Buffy couldn't have moved for the world.

Angel's eyes turned toward her and a cruel grin spread on his lips.

"Hello, baby!" He said, coming closer. "I see you came to rescue me. I have to think of a good way to thank you for that. Flowers maybe? A nice candlelight dinner?"

He moved forward until their bodies touched in a line of flesh. Buffy looked into amber demon eyes and looked for any trace of the man she knew, the man she loved.

"Maybe a quick death? Eh, love? Believe me, you'll thank me for it."

This couldn't be true. It had to be a nightmare. She wasn't here, she was home at the Hyperion, sleeping in Angel's arms. Any moment now she would wake and find that all of this had been a single horrible nightmare.

Angel drew her in for a rough and bruising kiss, then shoved her away with total disregard. Buffy hit the ground with tears in her eyes, her lips trembling. Angel shook his head and walked toward Grigori and the sorcerer, wiping his lips.

"Something about this must have tasted good at one time." He mumbled.

"It is good to see you back, Angelus." Grigori said, smiling.

Angel walked toward him and sniffed, a look of distaste spreading on his face.

"You stink, Nicolai!" He said, his voice dripping with disdain. "You stink of humanity."

"We will have that fixed in a moment." The ancient Vampire said, turning toward the sorcerer. "Continue! It is time to restore our people to what they once were."

The sorcerer gazed down at the glowing pages of the Necronomicon, felt its power run down the length of his body. There was an element of danger here, he realized. The book believed that Angel had opened it. His blood was what allowed him access. The Vampire was connected to this dark power in a way he did not fully understand.

He needed to be very careful. He didn't care about Grigori's dream, but his own was so close at hand that he didn't dare risk anything now.

"I will need my full power to revoke the Restoration worldwide." The sorcerer said, his dark eyes sparkling. "We should take care of these distractions first."

Grigori looked across the room, where both the attackers and his minions were frozen by the sorcerer's power. He felt a slight chill as he saw members of the Order of Tarakan among them. The Vampirium was against him. For the moment at least. Soon they would thank him on their knees.

"Release my minions." He told the sorcerer. "Then, I think, we can do some further testing of your spell. Just to be sure."

He nodded at Angel. "First, though, would you be so kind as to remove this stink from me!"

Angel laughed and the sorcerer murmured the spell once more, the golden light spilling across the room. Some part of Buffy again felt the crimson glow that held her weaken, but she couldn't take advantage of it. Her eyes were riveted to Angel, that thing that walked around with her lover's face, even as he watched Grigori undergo the same spell he had gone through but minutes earlier.

She remembered his words. Should it happen, should he revert to what he had once been, he had wanted her to kill him. Could she do it? Could she really take a stake and ram it into that chest she knew so well?

She didn't know. She just didn't know, not even now.

It was also becoming increasingly unlikely that she would get the chance to find out.

The golden glow faded and Grigori rose from his knees, throwing his head back in mad laughter.

"Yes!" He screamed. "At last! Freedom at last! Free of the voices! No longer do I hear them, no longer do they torment me!"

Angel walked closer to him, sniffing again.

"Nice to see you, Nicolai." He said, smiling broadly.

Grigori laughed again, a sound that sent chills down Buffy's spine.

#

"This is taking too long." Wesley said, looking over the shoulders of their pilot. Over an hour since they had jumped and not a word.

"Giles, do you think we should do something?" Wesley received no answer. "Giles?"

The other ex-Watcher looked up from where he sat. "Hm?"

"I asked if you think we should do something. Where were you just now?"

"Sorry, I was lost in thought. I agree, it has been too long, but I do not know what we can do."

Wesley looked at him for a long moment and Giles knew what his colleague was thinking about. It had been Darla's idea, a means of last resort if all else should fail. Both their heads turned back toward the belly of the plane. They couldn't see it from here, of course, but Giles was convinced that he could feel it.

He had no idea where the Order of Aurelius had acquired a tactical nuclear weapon from and he honestly didn't want to know. He only knew what Darla had told him. That they were to use it if all else failed.

"Not yet." Giles just said, wrenching his gaze away from the back of the plane where he could almost feel this dark thing rest. This wasn't a thing of black magic or demonic power. It was man-made and that scared him more than he thought possible.

"Not yet." Wesley agreed and went back to listening for a message from below.

#

"We should continue now!" Grigori said. "We have an entire world of Vampires to free from this curse."

Angel nodded, looking across the assembled Vampires. His eyes found Darla and his smile grew.

"I am looking forward to it." He said, licking his lips.

Grigori laughed and stood close to Angel, relishing in the empty feeling where his humanity and conscience used to be. The voices he had heard for so long were gone now. No more pain, no more remorse. He would have liked nothing better than to sink his fangs into soft human flesh right here and now, enjoy that wonderful taste without the pain it would have caused in his soul.

Priorities, he thought, priorities!

"Choose one, Angelus! Choose one who shall be the next to receive this grace! No need to hurry anymore now. We can take the time to enjoy this."

Angel's eyes moved across the crowd, resting on Darla again, then traveling to Luke, Spike, the members of his family.

"Why not Spike?" Grigori asked. "I heard your childe was one of the most vicious Vampires around in the good old days."

Three minions grabbed Spike's frozen figure and dragged him in front of the two Vampires. The only thing moving was Spike's face, his eyes blazing with anger. Angel laughed, draping an arm around Grigori's shoulders.

"You are right about that one. William here was a rotten bastard before the soul. I have to tell you, though, I am afraid it won't work with him."

Grigori looked at him, confused.

"What?"

"It won't work." Angel repeated. "You see, Nicolai, your little mage here can reverse the Restoration, we have seen that. Pretty darn impressive, I admit. My boy Spike here, though, he didn't get his soul from the Restoration. It was a gypsy curse and your spell will be quite useless in negating that one."

Grigori's eyes widened.

"I should know, after all." Angel said, smiling.
 

24  -  Out Of the Frying Pan ...

#

Grigori had about half a second to realize what Angel's words meant, then he stopped thinking about anything except the sharp pain that suddenly stabbed through him. He looked down and spent a brief moment wondering where Angel had gotten the large knife from, the one that was now sticking out of his chest where his heart should be. The knife with the wooden inlays, one of those the Order of Tarakan used.

Over a thousand years of age caught up with him at that very moment and Nicolai Alexandre Grigori, founder of the Order of Grigori, crumbled into dust.

Angel didn't watch it. The knife had barely penetrated Grigori's chest when Angel whirled around and faced the sorcerer. Fury was sparkling in the mage's inhuman eyes, but Angel wasn't impressed. Ignoring the many wounds he had sustained Angel moved forward in a blur of speed and was by the side of the table in an instant.

The sorcerer opened his mouth to invoke a spell, probably something very deadly, but Angel didn't give him the chance. His hands reached out and found the sorcerer's neck, giving it a twist.

Crack!

The crimson glow that had held everyone prisoner faded and over fifty Vampires and two humans started moving once more. Barely. All of them were staring at Angel, the ashes of Grigori, and the body of the sorcerer, who slipped the floor even as they watched.

Angel looked up at stared at the remaining minions of Grigori.

"Now would be a good time to surrender." He told them in a neutral voice, hiding the stark exhaustion he was feeling.

Grigori's men looked around, considering their chances against the Slayer, the Tarakans, and the Order of Aurelius, now that their Master was dust. Common sense quickly prevailed and they dropped their weapons, raising their hands above their heads.

Luke immediately started ordering his men to secure the prisoners and tried to get some semblance of order back into this chaos. From the sounds of it there were still some fights going on outside this room, stray guards that didn't know the battle was already lost.

Angel didn't care about any of that. His eyes found Buffy and saw her staring at him with eyes widened by shock. He made a few small and hesitant steps toward her, afraid of her reaction.

"I am so sorry about this, beloved." He said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I hated doing this, fooling you this way. It was the only way, Grigori had to think I was on his side. I am so sorry."

He could see tears in her eyes and hated himself for putting them there. How could she ever forgive him after he had treated her this cruelly?

"I thought I had lost you." She whispered.

A moment later she launched himself into his arms and he stumbled, falling to the ground with her on top of him, wincing when he hit the floor, and not caring about the pain at all. Buffy held on to him as if he would vanish at any moment and he hugged her right back, relief spreading through him.

"I thought I had lost you." She repeated again and again.

"Never, beloved!" He said, kissing her. "I will never leave you."

After a long moment she seemed content that he would stay and let go of him, rising to her feet and pulling him up with her. Luke and Spike were busy rounding up the last of Grigori's men. Darla and Faith stood close by, not wanting to disturb this reunion, but clearly waiting for them to be finished.

Angel turned toward Faith, who looked at him with relief in her eyes.

"I'm glad you're okay." She said, sounding like she wasn't sure of the welcome her words would receive.

"Thanks to you." Angel smiled and pulled her in for a hug.

Faith was more than a bit surprised, but quickly returned the embrace. When Angel finally let her go she found herself face to face with Buffy.

"Faith, I ...," she began, "oh, I'm *so* not good at this."

Faith suddenly found herself in another hug and started to fear for her ribs. Buffy let her go again and looked at her with earnest gratitude in her eyes.

"Thanks!" She just said. "I know I was a bitch before. I ... there is a lot we have to talk about, but, as far as I'm concerned, all is forgiven. Thanks for saving him!"

Faith swallowed he lump in her throat and managed to mumble "My pleasure!" while wiping at a stray tear that trailed down her cheek.

Darla smiled at Angel. "How do you always manage to get yourself in so much trouble, my dear boy?" She asked him.

Angel also smiled, shaking his head.

"I never get myself into trouble. Trouble always finds me."

The two of them embraced, when Darla suddenly thought of something.

"I should let Rupert and Wesley know that we are all right. I don't want them to get any ideas."

Angel looked at her, puzzled, but Darla just pulled out her radio and sent a message up to the circling plane. Angel turned back to Buffy.

"You weren't hurt, beloved?" He asked, checking her body for injuries.

"Look who's talking, Mr. Walking Dead! You look like you need about a dozen hospitals right now." Her light tone couldn't hide the worry he could see in her eyes.

"Don't worry about me. I will be all right after a good day's sleep and some blood."

"What did they do to you?" Buffy asked, concerned. He had a haunted look to him, like a man who had seen his worst nightmares take flesh.

Angel shook his head. "Not now! I will tell you about it, but not now. I would like to get out of this place now."

#

So close!

He was so close. So close to fulfilling his dream. After all these years, a prisoner in this ugly world, full of humans and petty minor demons, he was now so close.

Portals. The Necronomicon Nocturnum could open portals. Portals to other worlds, other places. It would have bring him home again. Every night he would dream of home, a world of bright fire and red skies, where the beautiful screams of the Damned would sound day and night.

So close! He was so close! He wouldn't allow this weak human body he had been forced to hide in for so long stop him now.

No one saw him move. Fools, these humans. Even the Vampires, so human themselves now. They thought that a simple broken neck could stop him. Pain was a friend, an ally. He forced his broken form to move, to rise. His strength was fading, but he could yet get home.

Everyone was distracted. Concerned with their own petty emotions, so disgusting to behold. They would all pay for his imprisonment here. All of them would pay. He only needed a little more strength.

He had wanted to fulfill Grigori's wish, for a pure Vampire race would have helped his cause. Still, even without it, there was evil enough in the world. Evil enough to draw strength from. He could feel it in his veins, flowing through his broken body.

Enough to fulfill his dream.

#

"Guys!" Faith yelled suddenly and everyone turned to see the sorcerer, who had risen to his feet. The robes had been ripped open and they could now see that his body was decayed and rotting, yet he moved. An unearthly fire was burning in his eyes.

"Strong enough!" The sorcerer screamed and his hand started to glow. Faith, Buffy, and Angel moved toward him, but suddenly found themselves being thrown backwards. Darla drew her gun and took aim, but by then the sorcerer's hand had found the Necronomicon and the room exploded into brilliance,

"What is he doing?" Darla screamed, trying to see past the glare to get a target.

"I can't see a thing!" Buffy was back on her feet, unable to even open her eyes as the glare penetrated past her closed lids.

Angel could feel the power pouring out of the Necronomicon, felt how it connected with him. His blood had opened the book and before his closed eyes he could see what page the sorcerer had opened.

When he had found the Necronomicon over ninety years earlier he had only skimmed across the pages. He had seen enough to decide to lock the thing away forever. He had also seen enough to know what the sorcerer was doing right then.

Angel threw himself forward into the light, blindly searching for his opponent. He didn't know what to do once he found him, seeing as he had already survived having his neck broken, but anything was better than just waiting for that spell to be completed.

"Arise!" He heard the sorcerer directly ahead of him. He could just make out his silhouette.

"Stop this!" Angel yelled, leaping at him.

He felt the spell close with an almost audible snap, he felt the power surging inside his blood. His blood was singing to the book and the book poured out more power to bring something into existence. Something the sorcerer had summoned here.

"I will go home!" The sorcerer screamed as Angel tackled him to the ground.

"No you won't!" Angel drove his hand deep into the sorcerer's decaying body, his fingers closing around a black and rotten heart. "You're not going anywhere!"

Whatever he, or it, had been, Angel felt it die beneath him. But it was too late, he knew that. Something snapped into existence, called down upon the Earth, and took form right next to him.

"What the hell is that?" Buffy yelled, coming closer as a figure appeared in the glowing light next to the book. A huge, inhuman figure. Angel saw it and his prayers that he had erred, that this was not the spell he believed it to be, went unanswered.

"May God have mercy on us all." He heard Darla whisper as she, too, recognized the creature the sorcerer had called here with his dying breath.

"Ugly fellow!" Faith commented.

The arch-demon Akathler took shape and opened its jaws to roar.

Go to Part 25