Email: JRR42@yahoo.com
Part: 14
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He woke suddenly, dizziness and disorientation making any attempts at motor co-ordination virtually useless. A small noise of protest off to his right was the key to triggering the onslaught of memories that barraged him. Only when his thoughts settled into some semblance of order did he focus on the stunning brunette laying at his side.
She was truly beautiful, he mused to himself silently, which begot the question that was foremost in his mind: just what the hell was *he* doing here? She was the enemy and always had been, so what was so different now? Why did he feel the way he felt at the moment? Like he was the luckiest person in the world just to be near her. Not that he had much of a choice in the matter.
For, at some point since they’d fallen asleep on her bed, Cordelia had rolled over, effectively pinning Xander’s arm underneath her shoulder.
Luckily, a quick glance at the bedside clock showed that they were supposed to be up in a few minutes anyway. Xander couldn’t prevent the evil smile that appeared on his face as he thought up an extremely pleasant way to wake his girlfriend. Leaning over, he began what would be the first in a long line of kisses on her right collarbone and headed in a southerly direction...
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Less than a mile away, Willow Rosenberg was fast asleep in her bed...with visions of a certain dark-haired Angel filling her rather naughty dreams...
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Giles, too, was lost in his dreams. However, his were horror-filled nightmares. Visions of Buffy, adrift and lost on the streets of some large, generic city assaulted the Watcher relentlessly. In his mind, he watched as his Slayer was surrounded by at least a dozen vampires. Although he screamed out warning after warning, she either ignored or simply could not hear his cries. Buffy fought as fiercely as he’d ever seen; but the petite blond was hopelessly outnumbered.
Her opponents attacked swiftly, four of them grabbing a hold of each of her limbs while a fifth one sank his elongated fangs deeply into her neck. Buffy’s struggles grew weaker with every passing second as the vampire drained her dry. When he was finished, the vampire carelessly tossed her lifeless body to the ground, leaving Giles screaming in horror over what he had just witnessed.
It was the sound of his own screams that woke the Watcher. Looking around wildly, Giles forced himself to take a deep breath, constantly reminding himself that he was in his own library, and that he was safe...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Across town, Adam Pierson spent his afternoon relaxing in the relative comfort of his hotel room. A long, hot bath and several hours of uninterrupted meditation had been just the thing he needed to recharge both his body and mind -- not that his body needed much help. Still, it did require food, which was why the Immortal was in the process of absently devouring his second French Dip sandwich in less than fifteen minutes. Although the food wasn’t too bad, he barely noticed what he was eating. Instead, his attention was focused upon the book spread open on the table in front of him, finally giving Cassandra’s journal the more in-depth read through it deserved.
Much to his chagrin, Adam had to admit that Cassandra did, indeed, seem to have a gift of ‘see’ certain aspects of the future. Her writings included references to several events in MacLeod’s life that Adam himself had borne witness to, including the events leading up to Ahriman’s appearance. Occasionally, he would find passages in the text that he believed might be useful to MacLeod -- that is, if the Watchers were to ever actually locate the missing Highlander.
Adam kept on reading, munching on what little remained of his lunch until he came across a paragraph that caused him to drop the sandwich unnoticed.
‘There will come a frightful day when Death shall be the world’s only hope, for only the pale rider shall be immune to the power of the army of the masks, thusly saving the Champion ‘ere the battle last.’
Alone in his hotel room, the Immortal known as Adam Pierson struggled to keep from throwing up his lunch...
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In another section of town, some thirty feet underground, the vampire named Angel lay unconscious as his wrists and ankles were shackled in heavy, iron chains.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Slowly but surely, they all returned to the library. Surprisingly enough, most of the teenagers were earlier than Adam who, engrossed in the diary, had lost track of the time. By the time the sun actually set, only two were missing -- Willow and Angel.
Those assembled were in the process of preparing their weapons of choice for the evening. Piles of sharpened stakes were laid out like sardines in a can as Xander aided Cordelia with pouring holy water into her plastic super-soaker. Off to one side of the big table, Giles and Oz were busy cleaning and loading two crossbows. All of them nodded or called out a quiet greeting as the Immortal crossed the room.
Sighing deeply, Adam prepared himself for the reaction he knew his next words would bring.
“I found some interesting entries in Cassandra’s diary today,” he began. Spotting a third crossbow on the table, the Immortal nodded at it. “Need a hand with that one?”
“Hey man, feel free,” Oz offered without looking up from his own weapon.
“We are happy to hear that you’ve made some inroads on your own research,” Giles replied in a curious-yet- preoccupied tone of voice.
“Actually,” Adam began, plucking an oily rag off the table with which to clean the metal chamber of the weapon. “I believe that there may be a possibility that our individual prophecies may not be as...individual as we originally thought.” That statement got everybody’s attention.
“Oh? How so?” the librarian inquired.
“Well, does anybody here speak Gaelic?”
“Yeah, Angel does,” Xander supplied.
“Angel, however, did not have the opportunity to read that particular volume. However, if you need some assistance in translating...” Giles defended.
“Oh, I can read it fluently,” Adam reassured. Actually, the language was a relatively new addition to the Immortal’s extensive repertoire, one added a few months after meeting Duncan MacLeod. Adam hadn’t asked the question out of necessity, but rather to ensure that the obfuscation he was about make wouldn’t be discovered. “I was simply surprised that the reference was overlooked during the course of your own research. Well, that’s not important now. What does matter is what the book says,” Adam concluded, reading aloud an amended version of what was written on the page.
‘There will come a frightful day when an Immortal shall be the world’s only hope, for only an Immortal shall be immune to the power of the army of the masks, thusly saving the Champion ‘ere the battle last.’
“Well, that would certainly appear to be accurate. As an Immortal, you have the ability to repel the vampires of which the army consists,” Giles agreed. Before he could say more though, he was interrupted by the petite redhead bursting through the library doors.
“Angel!?!” she cried in a panic-filled shout as her eyes darted around the room wildly, ignoring the bewildered questions of those already assembled. “Is he here?! Oh God...oh God...”
“Will, calm down,” Oz said as he moved to her side. “You’re like...going gonzo here.”
“Have you seen him? Has he been here yet?” the redhead asked without waiting for a response.
“Willow, has something happened to Angel?” Giles asked as he returned the crossbow to the table.
“I don’t know! I thought maybe he’d be here already but he’s not and he hasn’t been home yet, or at least I don’t think he has,” she blurted out before finally running out of steam. “Oh God.”
“Calm down, Willow,” Giles ordered softly. “Perhaps you should start at the beginning.”
“I...okay...” she began, taking a deep breath. “Before I came over here, I went by Angel’s apartment to pick up the history book I left there yesterday, ‘cause we’ve got that big paper due on Tuesday and I really need it to finish otherwise...”
“Willow...” Giles reminded patiently.
“Oh right, well, when I got there Angel didn’t answer, so I, kinda, well, I let myself in...”
“You let yourself in?” Xander repeated, obviously puzzled on how she managed to gain entrance to the vampire’s home.
“...but Angel wasn’t there, which is probably why he didn’t answer when I knocked. But, I don’t think he ever came home.”
“What makes you think that?” Adam questioned.
“Well...everything was still messy.”
“Messy?” Xander broke in again.
“When we left yesterday, we were kinda late, so Angel just said to leave everything and he’d take care of it later, but he didn’t.”
“Was anything else disturbed in the place?” Adam asked.
“N...no, not really. I mean, the dishes were still on the table, and when I looked upstairs, his clothes from the other night were still on the floor...”
“The other night? What were you doing in Deadboy’s bedroom?” Xander demanded.
“Xander,” Giles chided, although he himself was curious as to the answer to the boy’s question. Still, this wasn’t the time for such matters. “Willow, perhaps Angel had an errand to run before he came to the library, like going by the butcher shop...”
“No! I checked the refrigerator before I came here. Angel had two containers of blood in there when we left last night, and they were both still in there,” Willow insisted.
“Maybe it went bad or something,” Oz suggested. “Maybe he ran out to get some...fresher...you know.”
“Yeah, Will. It’s not like it’s stamped with an expiration date or anything,” Xander agreed.
“But the mess...” Willow continued, unpersuaded. “Angel is kind of anal about keeping his place neat.”
“Let’s give Angel a few more minutes before we start to panic,” Giles suggested, calmly reaching for some wood to whittle into stakes.
Oz gave Willow one final hug before returning to the table. Reluctantly, she followed her ex, only half-heartedly joining in on the weapon preparation.
“You shouldn’t worry so much, Willow. It will give you wrinkles,” Cordelia insisted. “See? Look at me, no worries, no wrinkles.”
“Colour me surprised,” Xander sniped under his breath.
An hour later, they had assembled everything they would need for the evening, and there was still no sign of the tardy vampire. Willow was almost back to the same level of full-blown panic she had been in when she first arrived, and the others were also beginning to show various stages of concern. In the weeks that they had been battling against the Legion, Angel was usually one of the first to arrive each day. Even if he expected to be just a few minutes late, he made sure to call and let somebody know.
Accepting that they had a real problem on their hands, the group looked around at each other, waiting for somebody to take the lead. Surprisingly, it was Adam who posed the first few questions.
“When was the last time anybody saw Angel?”
“This afternoon. He left at the same time we all did,” Xander supplied.
“Did he leave by himself, or did anybody accompany him?” Adam asked, looking directly at Willow.
“No,” she answered honestly. “Angel went by himself.”
“How does he get home with the sunlight and all?” the Immortal asked the question that had puzzled him since earlier that afternoon.
“There is an entrance to the tunnels behind one of the bookcases upstairs,” Giles explained.
“Tunnels?” Adam parroted.
“Yeah, there are miles of ‘em under Sunnydale,” Xander filled-in.
“You can get almost anywhere in town through them,” Willow added.
“Think of it as the vampire beltway,” Oz joked weakly.
“So then the other vampires know about these passageways, too?” Adam asked for clarification.
“Know about them? Most of ‘em live...down...oh shit...” Xander’s voice trailed off as he, along with the others, followed the Immortal’s line of thought.
Willow paled noticeably as her legs gave out, plopping hard into the chair behind her. She never really thought about the dangers the souled vampire faced commuting to and from via the tunnels. Like the other Slayerettes, Willow simply assumed that Angel’s very nature gave him some type of free passage through the vast underground network.
“Let me just make certain that I understand this correctly,” Adam reiterated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Angel, who is constantly seen in the company of those trying to destroy this Legion, basically just walked right into what could be considered their home territory, and you people are surprised that he suddenly turns up missing?”
“You make it sound extremely stupid when you put it like that,” Xander shot back hotly.
“Oh, my apologies. Now how exactly was I supposed to ‘put it’?” the Immortal retorted.
“On one hand, it does appear to be rather...foolhardy on Angel’s account,” Giles agreed. “And yet, Angel has safely traversed the tunnels for over four years. Even taking the Legion into consideration, Angel has been moving back and forth through the tunnels for weeks now. Why would they wait until today?”
“Maybe we’ve become too much of a pain in the ass for them,” Xander suggested.
“Hardly,” Giles protested. “I’m afraid I must admit that, given the growing list of missing or dead, we’re barely making a dent in their rising of their numbers.”
“Angel is your most skilled fighter, no offense,” Adam noted, hastily tacking on the addendum. “If they are organized, they may have planned....”
“Divide and conquer,” Xander stated to the Immortal’s surprise. Adam was not aware that the teenager had retained much of his military knowledge from the Halloween night when a spell transformed Xander into a soldier.
“They already ate,” Willow whispered, her hand flying up to finger the area of her neck that was still bruised from being bitten the previous night.
“What was that, Will?” Oz asked.
“Huh?” she replied absently, until she realized that all eyes in the room were focused on her. “Oh. I was just thinking about last night, uh, in the park. When those bad vampires attacked, we both thought they were looking for food. So Angel went all ‘grr’ and told them to get their own. But they told him that they already ate.”
“Did they call him by name? Angelus or otherwise?” Giles questioned.
“No,” Willow frowned as she fought to remember. “I don’t think so.”
“So perhaps they were deliberately sent after Angel, or both of you,” Giles conceded. “Luckily for both of you, Dr. Pierson was nearby, otherwise you both might have...”
Even as the Watcher’s words trailed off, Adam was mentally reviewing the events that he had witnessed last night. Unfortunately, things were not adding up to his satisfaction. If his suspicions were correct, things may not have been as cut-and-dried as they appeared. The really bad news was that Adam, as Cassandra had predicted, was going to have no choice but to participate fully in putting a stop to the Legion prophecy.
“I don’t suppose anyone knows the route that Angel uses to go home?” the Immortal inquired.
“I do,” Willow answered softly, reaching for a stake before the others realized what was happening.
“What?” Giles questioned before the implications hit him. “No! It would be ludicrous! If what we suspect is true, then it would be sheer suicide to enter the tunnels.”
“No *way* are you going down there, Will!” Xander chimed in as awareness dawned.
“Listen to them, Will,” Oz pleaded quietly. “It’s gonna be crawling with vampires down there.”
“But it’s Angel!” she protested.
“Willow, I know that you are concerned about Angel, as we all are,” Giles soothed while shooting a sharp, warning glance in Xander’s direction before the teen could contradict the statement. “But please think rationally about this. We have no proof that anything…untoward…has happened to Angel.”
“Oh sure,” Cordelia scoffed, “Angel just got held up because his hairdresser is running a little behind today.”
“Actually,” Xander chimed in, “that may not be too far off the mark for Coif-boy.”
“Guys,” Willow protested, gathering her things together. “You’re forgetting something.” All extraneous conversation came to a halt as they attempted to figure out to what she was referring. “He’s the Anti-Pied-Piper.”
“I think we dispensed with that theory last night, Willow,” Giles reminded. “While Dr. Pierson’s presence may be initially unsettling to vampires, they can, indeed, overcome the discomfort.”
Willow gulped nervously for a moment. Then, as if steeling her courage, her features settled into the expression they had come to know as her ‘resolve face.’
“Besides, I..I’m…like the best choice to go, not that that’s really a good thing…for me, anyway. But, even if we do…if things don’t…if there’s trouble, I’ll have the protection spell.”
They were all forced to concede the point, regardless of their personal feelings.
“Believe me, I’m not exactly looking forward to this, either,” Adam confided. Nevertheless, he began putting together a few supplies of his own.
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“What was that?” Willow squeaked.
“Shhh!” Adam insisted for the twentieth time in as many minutes. According to Willow’s estimates, they were almost at the egress point for Angel’s apartment. Thus far, they hadn’t seen any trace of a single vampire, unfortunately, that also included the one for whom they were searching.
Suddenly, Adam felt tap on his back. Stopping in place, the Immortal searched around for any signs of possible danger. Sensing nothing, Adam trained the flashlight he had duct-taped to his forearm in Willow’s direction.
“What is it?” he asked. He had been more than a little worried that somewhere along the way, they were going to come across a silver chain surrounded by a pile of ash. He did his best to convince himself that his concerns were simply based on a tactical level. The loss of Angel would be a grievous one in the fight against the Legion. He refused to admit, even to himself that, despite their less than auspicious beginning, he would be sorry if Angel’s long existence came to such a senseless end.
“Over there,” Willow indicated, shining her light down to the far end of the damp tunnel. “What is that?”
The moved as one toward the object that had caught Willow’s eye. Moving closer, both Immortal and teenager were suddenly overtaken by a sinking feeling as they each recognized the item.
With a heavy hand, Adam leaned down and slowly retrieved the cracked, leather bound book that had last been seen in Angel’s hands as he departed the library.
“Oh God,” Willow choked as tears welled up in her eyes. For the second time in two days, she began to cry for the vampire named Angel.
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At that same moment in another tunnel, Angel was utilizing every last scrap of willpower he had to control his inner-demon. He had regained consciousness hours ago, only to find himself alone in a room, chained spread-eagle on what looked to be a king-sized bed. By the cool dampness of the air, Angel suspected that he was still underground; and judging by the harshness of the predicament he found himself in when he woke, Angel had a fair idea of exactly whom was responsible for his abduction.
There was, Angel thought, an air of elegance to the cruelty he had been subjected to for the past few hours. Resting on a decrepit nightstand next to the bed was an enormous basin filled to the brim with fresh human blood. Already hungry when he departed from the library earlier that afternoon, the scent of the thick liquid so nearby was driving his demon absolutely insane.
But that wasn’t even the half of it.
It wasn’t simply a matter of being restrained by the iron cuffs on his wrists and ankles. For numerous reasons, such restraints were common among vampires. No, the real elegance -- the subtle difference between simply being held against his will verses a prisoner being tortured -- was the shackles themselves. The first time he tested the strength of the chains, Angel had quite painfully discovered that somebody had filed down the edges of the cuffs to insure that the razor-sharp metal sliced deeply into his flesh at the slightest movement. And, since the shackles were on his wrists and ankles, even the shallowest of cuts bled profusely, which, in turn, made his hunger increase exponentially.
It was brilliant. Had the part of him that was Angelus been in control at that moment, he would have applauded whomever had come up with the idea. Well, then again, maybe not -- not without losing both of his hands in the process.
So he waited. At first, he found it easy to resist. After all, he’d already been to Hell itself and survived, thanks to Willow. But despite all the heinous tortures he’d suffered there -- the whippings, the evicerations, the face-to-face encounters with every last one of his victims -- never once in all his time there did Angel ever experience hunger.
It was a powerful force, one that could drive the most pious of men to the most deviant of acts. The fact that Angel had a demon inside him only made matters worse, for the demon cared nothing about self-restraint or control. All it knew was that it was hungry and it wanted to feed, no matter the consequences.
So Angel resisted, not just the lure of the blood on the nightstand, but the demands of the demon within as well.
His internal clock gave Angel some grasp of how much time had passed. When he sensed the sun setting, he knew that the others would shortly become aware of his disappearance. On one hand, it filled him with a small measure of hope in that he knew that they would become aware of his absence and begin searching for him. Yet, the thought of them coming to his aid was also his greatest fear. He would never be able to cope with the guilt should harm befall any members of the group known as the Slayerettes.
The minutes passed by slowly, each second stretching on for an eternity of its own. Between his concern for those he considered his friends and the exertion of keeping his demon in check, Angel was beginning to feel the strain of the situation.
Before his control could slip, however, Angel heard the sound of the door to the room opening. It was then that he caught his first glimpse of their latest nemesis.
The vampiress was, indeed, as beautiful as the Watcher’s journals had indicated. With her dark brown eyes and long, flowing hair the colour of night itself, it was plain to see why this particular vampiress was destined to lead the Prophecy of Legion. She was wearing an extremely low-cut dress that left little to Angel’s imagination. Like the sheets on the bed he was chained to, Eleni’s clothes were made of the finest, most sheer black silk Angel had ever seen.
“Buenas noches, bellisimo,” she said in the musical tone of Castillian Spanish. The vampiress was not surprised when Angel did not deem to answer her. Tu no hablas Espanol, verdad? Que lastima. Well, then, perhaps we should try English, yes?”
Even when she switched languages, Angel refused to respond. Instead, he glared at her with all of his outrage from the cruelty she had so far inflicted upon him.
“You, of course, know who I am,” Eleni said with supreme confidence. “Just as I know all about you, Angelus, childe of Darla, sire of Drusilla. You are the beautiful one cursed with a soul, I am told.”
Eleni’s revelation did not surprise Angel overly much. One of the downsides of being somewhat notorious was that it made it difficult to maintain any semblance of anonymity.
“Still nothing to say?” Eleni questioned, moving forward until she reached the side of the bed. Without hesitation, the vampiress leaned forward to run her fingers through Angel’s spiky hair. When he continued to do nothing but grimace at her touch, Eleni couldn’t help but chuckle. “Come now, do not tell me that I have had the fortune to find that which all women seek: a man with the face of an angel, the body of an Adonis, and a tongue that is completely silent? Why, that is the definition of heaven itself. But, sadly, even I am not so fortunate.”
“So much power,” Eleni mused. As she spoke, the vampiress’s fingertips gently traced along his cheekbones, before continuing down to his neck and chest. Although her touch was meant to be erotic, to Angel it was anything but. In fact, it was all he could do to keep from shuddering violently. Unaware of her captive’s revulsion, Eleni’s hands drifted lower, across the rippled muscles of his abdomen, directly down to his pants-covered groin.
“Well, well, well,” she mused as she fondled him with a practiced hand. “I knew my choice was a wise one. And such control. Buenos, buenos. Once you are soulless again, you will be perfect.” Not discouraged by Angel’s lack of response, Eleni quickened the pace of her teasing hand for a moment, before withdrawing it completely from his body.
“Why am I here?” Angel sighed tiredly, finally breaking his silence.
“Ah, I knew it was too good to last. No matter,” she waved a hand dismissively. “You are here, Angelus, because I have chosen you.”
“Chosen me?” he repeated slowly.
“Yes,” she replied, her dark eyes smoldering in excitement. “I can give you that which we all crave -- power. You must already know of the Prophecy? It has already begun, and all that remains is for me to choose my consort. I have chosen you, Angelus. I will raise you above all the others, and when the new Master defeats the Champion, you will be by my side as I present to him the Army of the Masks.”
“Why,” Angel questioned. “Why me?”
“Because I wish it,” she replied dreamily, lost in her own illusions of power.
“And if I don’t?” he shot back, taking pleasure as she recoiled over his refusal.
“Oh, you will,” Eleni said knowingly. “And I ask for only two things in return.”
“Yeah? What’s that?” Angel asked, more because he knew it was expected of him than out of his own curiosity.
“The first is simple: you must submit to me, acknowledge me as your mistress.” Angel merely nodded, as establishing domination was typical any time two powerful vampires met. “The second is why you are chained here to this bed, for I do not think you will tell me freely.”
“Can we stop with the build up, already? Just tell me what the hell you want from me,” he cut to the chase.
“I’ve heard tales that you recently lost this soul that plagues you. I want to know how it was done -- after all, I cannot very well have my consort burdened with such a thing.”
It was, he noted, the third time she had mentioned his soul since she walked in the room. Her concern over the subject appeared to be a focal point of some kind. That, by default, made it an advantage in his favour. Now, if he could only determine why it was so damned important to her.
“Sorry, can’t help you. I like my soul just where it is, thank you,” Angel insisted smugly, purposely trying to arouse his captor’s ire.
“You *will* tell me!” she hissed, furious to be denied something that she wanted. With vampiric swiftness, she leaned forward and pushed down harshly on his forearms, causing the sharp metal of the cuffs to cut deeply into his wrists.
Crying out at the sudden pain, Angel missed the rage that momentarily flashed over Eleni’s features, only to be replaced by a more spiteful expression. Straightening herself up, the vampiress dipped a finger in the basin of blood, thoroughly coating the digit before once again turning her attention back to her prone captive. With a sadistic grin, she touched the dripping finger to his face, leaving a glistening dot to decorate the tip of Angel’s nose.
The cuts in his wrists were bleeding profusely, draining his strength away with each passing second. In addition, the nearby scent of the coppery, red fluid made it almost impossible for him to keep his control from slipping. Nevertheless, he managed. Angel simply refused to give the bitch the satisfaction.
“Your will is very strong, Angelus, but you will find that mine is stronger. You make this more difficult than it needs to be, but you will submit.”
With that said, Eleni exited the room, leaving the weakened vampire alone to struggle for control.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“So you found no signs of…uhm…that is…” Giles stumbled. Despite the lingering harsh feelings the Watcher had toward the vampire for his actions as Angelus, Giles didn’t want to see Angel meet such a tragic end.
As previously arranged, the other Slayerettes had been waiting for Willow and Adam just outside Angel’s apartment. Given the large amount of weapons they were carrying for their evening patrol, they had decided to take two vehicles to make the rendezvous. As a way to save time, Willow was riding with the other teens in Oz’s van, while Adam joined Giles in the librarian’s classic Citeroen
“No,” the Immortal assured. “We combed that part of the tunnel meter by meter. If Angel was, indeed, staked; it didn’t happen there.”
“Maybe Angel managed to elude them,” Giles said hopefully.
“Wouldn’t he have tried to contact somebody in that case?”
“Captured, then?” the Watcher offered.
“That would be my guess,” Adam confirmed. “But the real question is why?”
“Information, perhaps?” Giles brainstormed. “They may wish to know what, if anything, we’ve managed to uncover, and how much of a threat we pose to their plans.”
“Probably,” the Immortal agreed. “But why Angel?”
“I…don’t follow,” the Watcher said with a puzzled expression on his face.
“Why would they specifically target Angel?”
“Well,” Giles began, “as you mentioned previously, tactically speaking, Angel is the best fighter among us. Or, if they have been watching our activities, his daily forays into the tunnels might have made him the most easily accessible.”
“No, I don’t…,” Adam’s voice trailed off as he slipped into his memories of the previous night. There was something odd, something that he had yet to take into consideration. Time and again, he forced himself to comb through the recollection in slow motion. Finally, it came to him. “That’s it!” he exclaimed, receiving an odd look from the librarian. “The attack in the park last night wasn’t random – those vampires were sent there to take Angel…alive.”
“How can you be…”
“Don’t you see?” Adam enthused. “Willow said that those vampires weren’t interested in a meal and yet they attacked. By the time I reached them, Angel was already unconscious and Willow was already being bitten.”
“I don’t see…”
“Only *one* vampire was biting Willow. There were five others mulling around. If their intent had been to kill Angel, they had all the time in the world to do so. Yet, they left him...incapacitated and attacked Willow instead.”
“And still, I fail to see the importance of…”
“It’s Angel that they’ve been after the whole time!” Adam said bluntly, exasperated by Giles’ obtuseness. But now that he was on the right track, the librarian was quick to catch up to the Immortal’s train of thought.
“They want him for some specific reason, either to keep him out of the way…”
“…or because they *need* him for some reason.” Adam concluded. “Either way, I think that this is a sign that something is about to happen.”
“The Prophecy?” Giles hazarded.
“The Prophecy,” Adam confirmed.
Both men fell silent for a moment as Giles brought the car to halt for a red light. The area looked vaguely familiar to Adam and, looking around, he caught sight of his hotel a little further up the street on the right. Suddenly, he remembered that he had forgotten completely about the college fair he was supposed to be attending at that very moment in time. Well, at least he had a good reason for not being there. He only wondered if his Department Head at the University of Seacouver would consider ‘battling against demonic forces’ a valid excuse for not honouring his commitment.
As the light changed back to green, Adam was hard pressed to stifle a chuckle over the situation. Lurching forward as the librarian threw the car into gear, the Immortal was about to continue their previous conversation when he felt the traces of a familiar tingle in the base of his skull. The buzz grew stronger as they drove towards the hotel.
‘Shit!’ he cursed silently, realizing that Ahriman must have sent yet another Immortal to challenge Adam. ‘Shitshitshitshit. Damn it, not now! I don’t have time for this now!’
The buzz grew weaker as the car moved past the hotel, but the knowledge gave Adam little comfort. The addition of the other Immortal was a complication that he really did not need in his life at that moment -- especially now that he had, however reluctantly, become involved in fighting the Legion. As he saw it, he had three options to choose from: go back and face the challenger now, leave Sunnydale hoping that he would be able to evade the other Immortal, or ignore the problem for the time being. Given the circumstances, his third choice appeared to be the best solution for the moment.
“If the Prophecy is to be initiated soon, then we should focus on our research...,” The sound of Giles’ voice brought Adam’s attention back to the present.
“If the Prophecy has already begun, it might be more useful to try a more direct approach,” Adam countered.
“What...uh...do you have in mind,” Giles asked hesitantly.
“I must admit that I was thinking of quid pro quo,” Adam offered, noting the way the Watcher’s eyes grew large at the suggestion. “After all, they took our vampire, maybe it’s time we took one of theirs.”
“Do you have any concept of the dangers involved in attempting to capture a vampire?” Giles sputtered.
“Look, the key to winning *any* battle is information, something that they have and we are sorely lacking at the moment. So, unless you have another suggestion...” the Immortal invited.
Giles was silent for a moment, obviously attempting to come up with an alternative to Adam’s idea -- an alternative that would not place any of them in mortal peril. Then, out of nowhere, Adam saw the proverbial light bulb go on over the Watcher’s head. Almost instantly, the librarian was reaching for the headlight switch on the dashboard, rapidly turning it off and on to get Oz’s attention in the van in front of them. Following as the teenager pulled into a deserted parking lot, Adam turned to Giles.
“What are you doing?” the Immortal questioned as the librarian drove on past the slow moving van.
“Going back to the school to get a net.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Do you submit?” Eleni asked for the third time in as many hours. She was obviously growing impatient at Angel’s steadfast refusal to bend to her will. Narrowing her eyes in anger, she repeated her question coldly. “Do. You. Submit?”
There was blood everywhere --his blood -- flowing out of his veins to soak both his clothing and the mattress beneath him. Given his unnaturally low temperature, the fluid was already cold when it exited his body. With the added dampness of the subterranean air, Angel’s large form shivered uncontrollably. No longer capable of concealing the demon within, he’d been wearing his game face for the past few hours. Due to the extent of his blood loss, the vampire’s wounds had long since stopped healing.
Yet, despite his steadily weakening condition, Angel still managed to snarl out his answer.
“Fuck you.”
“In time, bellisimo,” Eleni grinned. Once again, she forced the metal edges of the cuffs deeper into the existing cuts on his wrists before turning to exit. “In time.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the end, Giles fears about the dangers involved proved to be unfounded -- thanks to Willow’s suggestion. Using their normal ‘helpless couple’ routine as bait, the Slayerettes got their workout for the evening against a pack of eleven vampires. It was a close fight, especially without Angel’s much-needed presence, but together the librarian and the students managed to take out eight of them before the survivors turned to flee into the night.
That was when Adam came into it. From his distant position by the cars, he targeted one of the retreating vampires and shot a tranquilizer dart directly into the center of its back. It barely ran another twenty feet before it collapsed to the ground unconscious. Its brethren were too self-absorbed in their own escape to notice their fallen friend. Using the net as a safety measure, the Slayerettes brought the male vampire to the library.
They were in the process of placing him in the caged weapons locker when he began to wake. Before they could chain him up, the vampire started to thrash about madly. Fortunately, however, they managed to get out of the cage and lock the door before anybody was hurt. As they caught their collective breaths after the close call, one by one all eyes turned toward the Immortal that was the source of the vampire’s agitation.
In a repeat of his actions from the night before, Adam warily made his way to the cage. The closer he came to the captive, the more insane the vampire grew. In fact, it was so violent, it made Angel’s initial reaction look like a child throwing a temper tantrum. This vampire was repetitively screaming at the top of his lungs as he threw himself against the walls, blindly seeking any egress.
“Look at me!” Adam yelled, but the creature was far beyond the ability to comprehend the words. And from his position on the outside of the cage, there was little the Immortal could do. Finally, Adam turned to Giles. “Open it up.”
“Are you mad?” the librarian questioned.
“I have to get it to look at me for it to stop,” Adam reminded.
“Just open the stupid thing, Giles, before my eardrums explode,” Cordelia yelled to be heard over the vampire’s shrieks.
“Get the crosses!” the Watcher cautioned. Once the teens were armed, they formed a semi-circle behind the Immortal in case their crazed guest tried to make a break for it.
They needn’t have worried. The vampire was too far gone to take advantage of the opportunity. Giles relocked the door the minute Adam slipped inside.
As the distance between the two very different immortals decreased, the vampire lost what little was left of his sanity. With no room left to retreat, the cornered creature began clawing at his own face, neck, and head -- undoubtedly in a fruitless attempt to alleviate the ‘buzz’ caused by Adam’s proximity. Eventually, the Immortal was close enough to grab hold of the vampire’s chin to duplicate his previous action with Angel.
“Look at me,” he insisted, tugging on the cold chin in his hand.
There was a pregnant pause as the captive’s gaze darted aimlessly around the room. When the blue eyes finally met the waiting hazel, it was more by accident than by design; but once they made contact, it was as if the squirming vampire was helpless to look anywhere else. Although it felt like an eternity, in all actuality, it took less than a second for the effect of Adam’s stare to become known.
For in that one instant, the captive vampire reached up a hand to his neck and, with his razor-sharp fingernails, slit his own throat.
As his dust settled to the floor, the six living people in the room simply stared at it in shock.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Angel had lost count of how many times they’d played out the same scene. This time, however, he could not stop the shudder that raced through his body as the door to the room opened yet again. His silence this time came not from resistance, but from the fact that he lacked the strength to answer her.
“You are dying, bellisimo,” Eleni said sadly, tracing the line of his face with the flat of her palm. You have lost too much blood. Soon your body will collapse in on itself, and you will be nothing but a pile of ash. Such a waste. But do you realize the...what is the word...ah, yes, the *irony* of it? You are willing to let your existence come to an end to protect a soul that will still burn in Hell. You are Irish, no? From the time when your people believed in the true faith? As vampires, we curse the Church, but you and I both know what awaits us when we cease to exist. You do not have to face your judgement, yet, Angelus. Yield to me, and we will both be under the protection of the Great Demon.”
For the first time in hours, Angel attempted to speak. The sound was little more than a croak as it left his parched throat.
“I...I...,” he began slowly. “I...s-submit.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Whoa,” Oz said, his eyes never leaving the pile of ash that had settled to the ground. “That was...”
“Icky?” Cordelia offered with a shiver. “Disgusting? The cause of thousands of dollars of therapy?”
“I have to admit, I was thinking more along the lines of ‘major weirdness’, myself,” Oz corrected.
“I don’t suppose anybody has any theories on why Fangboy here just pulled a hara-kiri,” Xander asked, looking directly at Giles.
“W...why did he...do that?” Willow asked in a none-too-steady voice.
“I...,” Adam stumbled, at a loss for words for the first time in years. “I don’t...understand...”
“Yeah, well, join the club,” Xander quipped.
“It should have worked,” the Immortal insisted, more to himself than to the other people around him. The truth was, seeing the vampire turn to dust made him a tad bit unsettled. Watching it happen close up was certainly world’s away from witnessing the phenomena through a pair of binoculars.
“Yes, it should have worked,” Giles reassured, desperately searching for some rational explanation for what had just happened.
“Oh my God,” Willow’s hand flew to her mouth as realization hit her. “That...what if...what if that had happened to Angel last night?”
All of them, even Xander, blanched as they considered the implications of the redhead’s words.
“Why did this one react so...severely?” Adam asked after a time.
An uncomfortable silence settled over the library as they mentally searched for explanations. When none became apparent, Oz posed a different question.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be asking why this one pulled a Kurt Cobain, but how come Angel *didn’t*?”
“Despite his actions, Angel *is* still a vampire,” Giles reminded, for once, just as puzzled as the rest of them.
“But he’s not a bad one,” Willow insisted. “At least not anymore...”
As soon as the words left her mouth, Willow and Giles’ eyes connected.
“His soul,” they both said in unison.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Using the cup on the dresser-top, Eleni scooped a small taste of the blood from the basin and carefully pressed it to Angel’s lips. So desperate was he for the necessary fluid, his fangs clicked loudly as they impacted with the glass.
“More,” he pleaded. Now that he had already admitted her dominance, there would be no shame in his begging.
“Ah-ah-ah,” Eleni cautioned as she pulled the cup forcefully away. “No more until you tell me the rest.”
Even with a small sip of blood he had taken, Angel could feel his body begin to respond. And better yet, there was a huge basin of the substance right nearby. Still he resisted.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“So you’re saying that Angel’s *soul* is what protected him from my presence?” Adam asked for clarification.
“Well,” Willow hesitated, “it’s like what makes Angel ...Angel -- not Angelus.” Adam nodded in understanding, somewhat familiar with the distinction after reading through Giles’ Watcher diaries that morning.
“Whatever the cause of Angel’s immunity, I think we should focus our attention to the larger picture,” the librarian said, reigning in the discussion. “We may have just stumbled across the perfect weapon for fighting large numbers of vampires.”
“Don’t you think you’re jumping the gun here a little?” Xander interrupted. I mean, one vamp offing himself does not a theory prove.”
“What about Angel?” Willow interjected.
“What about sleep?” Cordelia whined.
“We still need to find out what’s going on,” Adam insisted.
“We should attempt to determine whether Dr. Pierson’s presence...” Giles droned.
The volume of their individual voices grew louder and louder as each one struggled to be heard over the others. The only two not participating in the bouillabaisse were Oz and Xander. The former simply sat back, watching the others with mild amusement. The latter, however, was, for once, deeply lost in thought.
“Guys?” Xander said, a startled expression on his face. “Guys? Guys!”
All arguing stopped at the teen’s unexpected shout. Xander squirmed like a bug under a microscope as everyone’s attention suddenly focused on him.
“I know that this is gonna sound weird, and believe me, nobody is wiggin’ more than I am right now, but I think I may know how we can do everything all at once...”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“More...” Angel begged, refusing to meet the demands of his beautiful captor.
But Eleni was no fool. Compromising, the beautiful vampiress dipped the cup into the basin once again. However, instead of bringing it to Angel’s mouth, she held the glass a few inches above his face. Tipping it to one side, Eleni allowed a few drop of the precious liquid to drip into his eager mouth.
“Tell me,” she insisted with a sadistic smile. The smile faded slowly when it appeared that Angel was more interested in the cup over his head than her question. Angered by his inattention, she jerked the cup away forcefully. “Tell me!”
“No!” he cried pitifully. “Please...need more...more... and...I’ll tell you...”
“No,” she refused firmly. Slamming the cup down onto the dresser, Eleni stood in preparation to leave.
“No! No, wait!” Angel rasped desperately, but Eleni did not so much as hesitate as she moved toward the door. “I...my soul...to lose it... I have to be...,” he paused, closing his eyes in the shame of admitting his defeat.
Coming to an abrupt halt, Eleni pivoted sharply to await Angel’s revelation.
“I have to be...sired again.”
“I do not understand,” Eleni responded, puzzlement marring her beautiful features.
“Give me...more blood...and...I’ll explain,” he began.
“Go on,” Eleni prompted, retracing her steps to fetch the cup. Once she had it in hand, she resumed feeding him for encouragement.
“When we sire a childe,” Angel began, pausing to swallow greedily before continuing, “the person...we bring across loses their soul...to the demon. It takes over...”
“Si,” she agreed. “But you already have a demon.”
“Yes,” Angel admitted freely, his words coming easier now that his throat was no longer parched. “But if I drink from another one of us...my soul goes through the same thing that it did the first time. The blood forces it out...and the demon gets back control.”
“And this,” Eleni asked suspiciously, “is what happened to you before?”
“Yes,” he nodded weakly, his face a mask of shame over revealing the information he had endured so much to keep concealed. Eleni stared at him carefully, continuing to feed him from the glass in her hand. Finally she appeared to have reached a decision.
“I shall be your sire this time,” Eleni insisted. Heading for the door, she turned back to Angel. “You understand that I must keep you chained until tomorrow, si? But do not worry, I will make it up to you.” Leaning down, Eleni captured Angel’s mouth with her own, her tongue wrestling his for dominance. As was expected, he allowed the vampiress to win.
Sweeping regally away from her captive, she exited the room. With her back to bed, she never saw the calculating smirk on Angel’s face as he watched her depart.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pausing to close the door behind her, Eleni tuned to the two minions that stood guarding the door.
“You,” she nodded to one, “see that he is fed -- but not too much. Keep him weak until tomorrow night.”
“Yes, Mistress,” the vampire replied, scurrying away to do her bidding.
“Tonio,” Eleni spoke in Spanish to her longtime second-in-command. “Go and spread the word. I want every vampire in Sunnydale to know by dawn.”
“Mistress?”
“Will we perform the ritual tomorrow at midnight. By the time the sun rises the next morning, there will not be a single living creature in this world that will not bow before us.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By mutual consent they decided to wait until an hour before dawn to implement their plan. Although the basic idea was Xander’s, all of the others, Adam included, put in their two cents as well. In the end, even the Immortal was satisfied with the results.
Once again, they took two vehicles, rendezvousing in the seedier side of town a few blocks from their ultimate destination. Much to Adam’s annoyance, the plan called for Xander to ride with him – inane banter and all. The Immortal uttered an ancient prayer of relief when the van’s taillights flashed twice – the sign that they were about to part ways. At least he wouldn’t have to listen to the life story of Xander Harris for much longer.
“...so then we formed the ‘we hate Cordelia’ club…uh, the alley is up here on the right, but you might want to give them a minute to get set up…” the teen blathered.
“I was planning to,” Adam mumbled, passing off the alley for another drive around the block. Knowing that it was only a few minutes to show time, the Immortal decided to review the scheduled course of events one last time.
“When we get there, you’re to do nothing but wait, understand?”
“We’ve been over this before…”
“Then it won’t hurt to go over it one more time,” Adam insisted. “*Don’t* get out of the car. *Don’t* go inside. *Don’t* do anything that will attract any attention to you. If you find any trouble…or if trouble finds you, drive around the block a few times, but make sure you come back here. I don’t fancy the idea of having to walk all the way back to the school.” With his eyes on the road, Adam missed Xander rolling his eyes at long list of orders.
“So tell me again what your last slave died of?” Xander finally grumbled.
“If memory serves, I beat him to death for not following my instructions,” Adam said harshly.
“Ah, that was like…a joke, right?” Xander asked in a cautious voice. Given that the man sitting next to him had been around for centuries, Xander had no way of knowing whether or not the Immortal was speaking literally.
“Just stick to the plan and you won’t have to find out,” Adam insisted, pulling into the alley and parking. Taking a deep breath to focus, the Immortal opened the door and stepped out into the still air of the California night. “See you in about forty-five minutes, kid.”
As soon as the door slammed shut, Xander jumped over the emergency brake. Settling into the driver’s seat, he wondered just how the Immortal planned to accomplish his goal in such a short period of time. Then again, he thought with a shudder, he probably didn’t want to know.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‘Just like stirring an anthill,’ Giles thought as he watched almost two dozen vampires come pouring out the front door of the establishment.
With great patience, the Watcher waited for the stronger, more sober ones to head rapidly toward safety from the coming dawn. As they fled down the street, Giles took his pick from the three vampires that were obviously intoxicated. Aiming the tranquilizer gun, he fired at the one moving at the slowest pace, as to not alert the other retreating figures.
Before the female vampire even hit the ground, Willow and Oz were jumping out of the van’s open door to retrieve her. Running up from his hidden position, Giles assisted the former couple with dragging the prone body of the vampire into the vehicle. Once the door slid shut, Cordelia floored it. In a squeal of tires, they headed back to the library, their part of the evening’s mission accomplished.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The scent of old alcohol and stale cigarette smoke were a familiar comfort to the Immortal as he opened the unlocked back door. Making his way through the back corridor, Adam followed the drifting sound of music into the main room of the establishment.
Not surprisingly, the only movement in the place came from the rather sleazy-looking bartender. He was scurrying around like a rodent, picking up the glasses left behind by the rapid departure of the bar’s earlier patrons.
“Oh, hey there,” the bartender called once he spied his new and -- at the moment – only customer. “I’ll be right with you.”
“Take your time,” Adam assured, taking the opportunity to look around the place. With no windows and only one heavy solid door, the bar was a dark, dismal cavern of a place. A visual survey of the room turned up no other occupants -- living or otherwise -- so Adam turned his attention to more important matters.
‘Oh, by all that’s Holy, he’s got Guinness on tap,’ Adam noted wondrously. ‘I may have to let him live after all.’
“So what can I get ya?” the bartender asked in a friendly manner.
“Guinness draft,” the Immortal replied, seating himself at one of the high barstools.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before,” the bartender commented as he reached for a clean glass.
“I’m just passing through for a few days,” Adam responded flatly.
“Well then, welcome to Sunnydale. The name’s Willy, by the way,” he offered, setting a foamy glass in front of his only customer. “That’s $4.75.”
Reaching into a deeply recessed pocket in his trench coat, Adam withdrew a thick roll of money. Carefully noting Willy’s rapt attention, the Immortal sifted through several fifty- and hundred- dollar bills before he came across the denomination for which his was searching. Setting a twenty down on the bar, he casually told the bartender to keep the change.
“Thanks!” Willy exclaimed happily. “If there’s anything you need while you’re in town, I’m the person to see.”
“Well,” Adam smiled as he took a sip of his beer, “now that you mention it, I was hoping to look up an old friend while I was here. I’d be more than happy to…negotiate for the information.”
Looking greedily at the bankroll still visible in Adam’s hand, Willy spoke eagerly. “I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement. So does this friend of yours have a name?”
“Actually, he does,” Adam stalled, stealthily preparing himself for the inevitable. “His name is Angelus.”
Willy’s eyes widened in panic, the only sign Adam needed to know that he was in the right place. The bartender was already verbally back peddling.
“Angel…us? Sorry, never heard of him. ‘Fraid I can’t help you.” Even as he spoke, Willy was physically inching away from the bar.
“Oh now, I thought we were going to come to some kind of arrangement,” Adam said disappointedly, toying with the roll of bills in his hand.
“N…no, I…ah, you ain’t got enough there…,” Willy hesitated.
Without any warning, Adam lunged forward, grabbing the bartender by the collar and dragging the little man completely over to the Immortal’s side of the bar. Pinning the smaller man with a single hand to his throat, Adam tossed aside the wad of cash in favour of his much-beloved knife.
“Oh, you thought we were going to negotiate for *money*?” Adam asked in a tone dripping with insincerity. “Ah, and here I thought we were on the same wavelength. *I* was thinking more along the lines of number of minutes left in your wretched, pathetic excuse for a life.”
"Aaaa,” the bartender gurgled.
“Now then,” the Immoral smiled coldly, “tell me everything you know about what happened to Angel…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Ha-ha!” Xander laughed smugly. ”Forty-seven minutes! See, he doesn’t know it all...SHIT!” The sound of the passenger door opening startled the mortal teenager badly, causing him to jump high enough to bang his head against the roof of the rental. As the Immortal slipped into the seat, Xander vented in the wake of his sudden adrenaline rush. “Jesus! What is it with all you Immortal-types? Do they train all of you guys on how to go around sneaking up on people?”
“Good to know you were keeping such a close eye on things out here,” Adam remarked with all his trademark sarcasm.
“So, did you find out anything useful?” Xander asked, a little more calmly than a moment ago.
“I’d rather not have to say it more than once. Just drive,” Adam said seriously.
“See, I told you that Willy would have the 411 on the latest from the ‘vampire grapevine’. By the way, how is everybody’s favourite sleazy barkeep?” When Adam didn’t so much as move, Xander began to get more then a little nervous. After all, the guy in the passenger seat included beheadings in his daily routine. “Wait…Willy is like still…I mean…he’s…you…didn’t…”
“And if I did?” Adam questioned, just to watch the teenager’s reaction.
“Oh God!” Xander blanched. “You did…”
“Relax,” the Immortal reassured, taking pity on the boy. “Let’s just say that in walk-in refrigerators, no one can hear you scream.”
“Oh, good. I mean, okay. I mean, it’s not like I really like the guy all that much, but still…”
“Xander?” Adam called wearily.
“Yeah?”
“Just drive the car.”
“Right.”