Part 15
Angel pulled a particularly dusty volume of lore down form the top shelf
and began thumbing through it.
<Of all the languages in the world, Romainian is the hardest to
read,> he thought to himself with a sigh. <Where's Willow? She should
be back by now. . .>
It was then that the doors of the library shnicked open and Willow
walked in. . .
Laughing. . .
And holding onto a strange man's arm. . .
He put the book down and spyed on the unabashedly through the stacks.
He finally placed the man as the person who had met them at the airport.
Angel replaced the volume on the shelf and moved stealthily through the
stacks, in a move similar to his Angelus-stalker days.
"Smarmy bastard," Willow teased.
"If I had a nickel for every time a beautiful woman said that. . ."
Jonathan smiled charmingly.
"I bet you'd be incredably wealthy," she agreed. "Giles!"
"I was just getting ready to look for you two."
"Sorry. I tried to go as fast as possible. . .jeez." Willow made a
face at him and Jonathan laughed, an action that had an odd effect on her.
She felt almost dizzy inside, flushed. She automatically found herself
moving a little bit closer to him
Something tightened in Angel's stomach and he moved back into the shadows.
***
He hadn't drawn a breath in two hundred years, but his chest was contracting.
He slid down the side of bookcase slowly and jerkily until he hit the floor.
He sat there, tears sliding down his face and pain radiating through his
whole body. He reached out, fumbling, for a copy of the prophecy trying
to loose himself in meaningless reading. His head cleared as the puzzle
pieces shifted into place and he shot to his feet as the alarms started
to go off.
***
"It's another attack." Jonathan's head shot up like a six-point buck.
"C'mon, Willow, we have to get you to a secured location." He gathered
her up in his arms, a feeling that shot warmth throught her whole body.
She felt so safe there, but. . .
"Giles? and Angel? What about them? I'm not leaving them!" The words
were automatic; she was saying them because she should, not because she
really felt them.
"They'll be taken care of. You are our main concern, Willow, not them."
His face was inches from her, passionate. She felt her knees melt.
"Willow, get out of here!" Giles was yelling. There was another voice
there, too, telling her not to go but she ignored it and allowed Jonathan
to lead her away.
***
"Stop them!" Angel raged, snarling as Giles held him back.
"Get a hold of yourself," he said roughly.
"You're an idiot!" Angel raged. "We have to go after them!"
"Why?! He's taking her to a safehouse. We'll met them later, as soon
as possible."
"How could you let her go with him? A complete stranger?"
"He happens to be my nephew," Giles said angriliy.
"Oh, really? Funny how you never mentioned him before."
His face darkened. "My personnal life is none of your business. I trust
Jonathan implicitly-- with my life--"
"I hope so, because you're *not* trusting him with *yours*, you're
trusting him with *Willow's*!"
"What are you trying to imply?!"
" 'Trust each other, only, for when the time comes, the sun will hide
and trusted friends will show to be enemies.' " He raged the goddess's
words back into Giles's face.
He blanched. "T-the eclipse isn't for days yet," he stammered.
Angel threw the volume against the wall. "Goddamnit, Giles, what calander
does this book use?! What calander?!"
"Oh, God, it's tribal. . .they didn't use leap years."
"Very good, old boy, it's about freaking time we realized it."
"What have I done?" Giles swayed on his feet.
"Where would he have taken her?" Angel asked quietly, trying to calm
down.
Giles looked up from his puddle of guilt, a slow realization sinking
in. "C'mon, quickly. We have to beat them there."