Iron Chains

AUTHOR: Winter

Parts: 7-13

Angelus was practically beaming as he entered the old building that he and Jaufien had decided to hole themselves up in for the time being. In his present state, not even the threat of being re-souled could bother him--though that didn't seem like much of a threat anymore, especially after the night's events.

Not only was he not in any danger, but Angelus now had a new toy to play with.

"What's with the devilish grin?" Jaufien asked, emerging from the door to the left, which Angelus had just recently discovered led to an underground basement that was finally being put to use.

"I had a good night," Angelus replied casually, tossing his overcoat onto the floor and settling himself into a chair. The two had recently furnished the room--very sparsely, but enough for comfort--and there were now both seating and sleeping arrangements. Added to the research table Jaufien had brought in before Angelus arrived, it was almost like home.

"Define 'good night'," Jaufien asked curiously, also taking a seat, but on the small couch opposite Angelus. He kicked his feet up onto the arm and leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head. His blue eyes twinkled mischievously.

"Since when did you become so interested in my activities?" Angelus questioned, not really minding that Jaufien had asked, but feeling like bartering for a while.

"Let me guess," Jaufien sat up suddenly, interestedly, catching the gleam in his cohort's eyes, "an innocent?"

Angelus grinned wider and also leaned forward, "Not in every sense of the word--at least not anymore--but enough to provide a fun ride."

"I see," Jaufien responded, merely staring at Angelus yet silently prodding him to continue.

"I knew the human before, you could say. Never really paid much attention then; but now...let's just say something's definitely there."

"Hm," Jaufien exhaled unnecessarily, "is she powerful?"

"What makes you think it's a she?" Angelus retorted indignantly.

"Your toying games almost always involve the fairer sex," Jaufien reminded him.

"True," Angelus granted, smirking.

"Well," Jaufien briskly changed the subject, "as long as she doesn't provide an overly distracting...distraction...have all the fun you want."

"Since when did I need your permission?" Angelus became almost defensive as he stood up.

"Since this is my plan and we're running on my clock," Jaufien, too, stood, "or have you forgotten in the midst of your lust?"

"How could I forget such an impossibly wicked plan?"

"You've always had more of an interest in pretty women--something I had hoped two centuries was enough to fix."

"Since when is that a defect?" Angelus countered smugly.

Jaufien merely glowered tolerantly before striding over to the table and retrieving yet another book. Angelus wondered to himself for a moment that with all the books his mentor had accumulated over the years, he could certainly give the Watcher's Council and Rupert a run for their money. But that was a chapter of his un-life that he intended to rectify--without Jaufien's knowledge. If he hadn't already heard about the "souled vampire," there was no reason for him to find out now.

A brief question at why he was so concerned with what Jaufien thought of him, even after all these years, crossed Angelus' mind before he squashed it thoroughly. He was in control now. For good.

"Take a look at this," Jaufien interrupted his thoughts by placing the open book under his gaze. Showing him a picture in the book of a rather ancient-looking sword, he explained, "This sword, and a source of power, is all we need to implement the invocation."

"Looks like an old enough artifact," Angelus responded, glancing only briefly at the picture. "Where's it at?"

"That's the problem," Jaufien effectively snapped the book shut, "I don't know. Last I heard, it had been locked away in this dump--but obviously it's changed locations since then since you and I can both see that it isn't here."

"So that's what brought you to this fair city," Angelus turned towards him, "not an intense desire to destroy the City of Angels." He smiled to himself at the irony.

"Any place would serve as a fair test subject--after all, it's the end result that counts. I thought you had realized that by now," Jaufien returned the book to the table.

"Oh, I have," Angelus grinned, reflecting over the numerous instances he had implemented that ideology. "So tell me, what is this 'source of power' that's supposed to be the other ingredient for chaos."

"Ah," Jaufien's features took on a different air, "that's something that won't be as difficult to find, but something that will probably cause some difficulty securing."

"Meaning?" Angelus asked, feigning boredom.

"Meaning," Jaufien stalked towards Angelus, "that I need to harbor a person's internal energy."

"You mean like a witch?" Angelus asked, suddenly intrigued. An idea was taking shape in his mind.

"A witch is the best option--they usually have the most power, and it's the easiest to dispense."

"So, what? You need life energy?" Angelus asked.

"No, not life--though that'll probably be taken anyway by yours truly--witches do have exotic blood--all we need is magickal energy. Purely magickal to counterbalance the physical aspects of the sword."

"I see," Angelus pondered silently for a moment.

"You have something up your sleeve, don't you?" Jaufien noticed the other vampire's shift in moods almost immediately.

"Actually, I do," Angelus stated, lifting his head to meet Jaufien's gaze, "what would you say if I brought you a witch tonight?"

"I'd say that would be great; but without the sword and a container to store the energy, it doesn't do us much good."

"That doesn't matter--we can keep her around until we get the container," Angelus offered, grabbing his coat off the floor.

"Why do I get the feeling this has to do with your new 'friend'?" Jaufien asked, stopping Angelus with his words.

"Because your feeling is absolutely correct," Angelus gave him a charming smile, "and what better way to begin my new game?"

Jaufien frowned for a moment, then gave in. "All right. Bring her here. I'd like to meet this witch that obviously has you all tied up in knots."

"You won't be disappointed," Angelus promised before gliding out the door.

***

Willow's feet shuffled across the gravel as she wandered aimlessly about the street. She hadn't strayed far from the Angel Investigations office--she wasn't suicidal--but she was depressed enough to venture out at this hour of the night. She needed to clear her head.

After cleaning up the office in silence and storing away the materials, Willow had rebuffed Doyle's offer at staying at either his or Cordelia's place for the night--and however many nights it took to get this situation rectified.

It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the offer, but Willow had never been one to intrude on others, and she didn't plan on starting now-not when all of this was her fault. Or so she thought.

Doyle, and even Cordelia, had pleaded with her not to stay at Angel's office, considering that Angelus had an invitation and would be able to do whatever he pleased. Willow had reminded them that he couldn't--or at least, for now--wouldn't kill her because of the binding spell. But, of course, as they all knew, there were other ways of being tormented.

Still, Willow refused to give any ground. She told them that she just needed some time and space at the moment, and as far as she was concerned, that was the truth. It seemed to her as if nothing in her life was going right. Her college years were supposed to be about finally getting things right--fitting in and having a good time. So far, she hadn't achieved either. And it was really getting to her.

She couldn't understand where she had gone wrong with the spell. Or had she? The words were right, and the procedure--she had done this before. But she couldn't understand why she couldn't summon the energy at the moment she truly needed it. Maybe Angelus had been right--maybe she wasn't a real witch. Maybe she never had any real power.

Willow stopped her furious pace and struck the wall beside her. In nearly every spell she had done before, there had been some type of previous preparation--meditation, trance-inducing materials--just something to help her focus. She knew that every beginner had to start out with *something* to help get them started, but she also knew that they usually grew out of needing those materials after a while. If they didn't, they had only a weak--if not artificial--control over their power.

And she couldn't help but wonder if that was all she had, too. Was that all she would ever amount to? Being a mediocre spell-caster who needed materials and before-hand preparation and incantations to make her magick work? Amy hadn't needed any of those things. *She* was a real witch. *She* had real power.

But despite all of this, Willow knew she would try again. She had helped to unleash Angelus on the world, and she had to be the one to help capture him. Real power or no. She had done it before, and Willow resolved to herself that she would to it again. Somehow, she would get that energy back, and if she needed her materials, then so be it. Jaufien was dead--Angelus had confirmed that--so all they needed to do now was cast the restoration spell. And all would return to some semblance of normality.

Having finally resolved one issue of many, Willow sighed and turned around to head back to the office. She would get what sleep she could, then call Cordelia and Doyle in the morning.

A sudden chill stopped her in her tracks.

"Who would have thought you'd be this easy to find?" Angelus stepped out in front of her, effectively blocking her path. Willow paled visibly, but held her ground.

"What do you want?" Willow questioned him irritably.

"To talk?" Angelus offered, not moving from his place. He was far enough away not to cause her too much distress, but not so far that he couldn't easily spot any slight movement she made.

In truth, Angelus did have a lot of things to discuss, but he didn't plan on hashing them out here. And one of the main things was, eerily, his ability to find her so quickly. Somehow, he had known, just *known,* approximately where she would be. And it wasn't deductive thinking. Angelus wondered if it was perhaps some aspect of the spell, but he kept silent.

"Yeah? I'd have thought you'd have said all you wanted to say earlier," Willow moved her hand to her back pocket ever so slightly, attempting to remove the cross she carried with her. But, of course, as always, Angelus caught the motion.

Covering the distance between them in a flash, he gripped her hand tightly and knocked the cross from it, snarling at the brief burning sensation. "Okay, you don't want to talk? We won't talk." Delivering a quick, effective blow to the side of her head, Angelus knocked Willow unconscious before she even had a chance to react.

"I guess I'll just have to make my move," he whispered to no one in particular as he scooped up the girl's limp form and disappeared into the shadows.

End Part 7

The heavy cloak of darkness that had settled itself over Willow's vision began to lighten slightly as she returned to consciousness. For a moment, she couldn't remember where she was or what had happened as she struggled internally to gain a hold on her own body and bring herself out of the haze of unconsciousness.

Finally managing to gain control of a few muscles, Willow let out a small moan as feeling returned to her--mainly the pounding in her head. She opened her eyes to find herself seated in a rather uncomfortable old chair. It was only when she tried to get up, though, that she realized she was tied down.

A foreboding sensation swept through her as she remembered Angelus approaching her on the street. He had said something about wanting to talk, and before she knew it, lightening sharp pain had shot through her entire body.

Cursing herself inwardly for being so stupid, Willow attempted to gauge her situation as best she could. She was seated by a corner of an old room-rather run--down for her tastes, but perfectly suited for a vampire, she assumed--that held nothing but a few pieces of furniture and some scattered books and journals.

She was tied to a wooden chair, which could come in use later, she noted to herself, with a medium-height back, and her arms, crossed at the wrist, were held firmly by some type of thick cord behind the back of the chair. Each of her legs had been tied to the corresponding leg of the chair, which really left her no room for movement.

Willow struggled for a moment, attempting to get a feel for the strength of the bonds, but quickly stopped. They were knotted extremely tight, and the material was thick enough to hold someone twice her size and double her strength. And, to top it off, the circulation was being cut off in her wrists, and her shoulders and back were beginning to ache from being stretched unnaturally backwards for so long.

At the mention of time, Willow wondered to herself exactly how long she had been unconscious. Obviously long enough for Angelus to bring her to wherever she was and tie her up. The bonds had already settled around her skin, so Willow assumed she had been tied for at least an hour. At least.

Emitting a growl of frustration--could things really get any worse?--the young witch turned her attention to a magickal solution. She had practically given up on the topic before, but it seemed as if that was her only option now. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Willow tried as best she could to picture the rope holding her hands. After summoning whatever energy she could, she focused all of it on the image-ropes unknotting and falling in pieces to the ground. But, of course, things got worse.

Just as Willow felt a slight give in the ropes, a door on the side of the room--Willow hadn't quite noticed it earlier--opened to reveal Angelus.

"So the little witch finally awoke," he announced rather too cheerily as he noticed her upright and concentrated appearance, "and what have you busied yourself with?" he asked, noticing a rather odd look in her eyes.

"Thinking up ways to kill you?" she offered through gritted teeth as she attempted to regain her concentration.

"Not buying it," Angelus dismissed her half-hearted threat with a wave of his hand, "you're too nice, aren't you? Too caring? Even towards a heartless demon. And definitely too loyal to a certain souled vampire. If I had a heart, I'd be touched."

Willow remained silent as she felt the ropes slipping away, her eyes downcast. The joy that should that should have come from that feat was quickly replaced by dread as Angelus sensed the shift in her demeanor and ran to her, dragging the chair further out into the room just as the ropes hit the floor.

"Well, well, well," he grabbed her hands in his own before she had a chance to use them. Kneeling down behind her, he spoke directly into her ear, "You're certainly being the crafty little witch today, aren't you? A pity that didn't work last night."

He gripped her hands firmly, causing her to cry out in response to the jolt of pain that spread through her already sore back and arms. She needed desperately to stretch out her back, but in the position she was in, that didn't seem like a likely option.

"So tell me," Angelus continued, replacing the ropes, "how long should I expect these to hold you before you manage to slip out of them again?" Willow couldn't tell if she was imagining things or not, but there seemed to be an almost proud tone to his voice.

"Hopefully they'll hold her long enough for us to absorb her power," Jaufien emerged from behind the door Angelus had just recently walked through. Willow's eyes widened at the sight of him, as she automatically realized who he was.

And, considering that he was 500 plus years old, he was absolutely breathtaking.

His crystal blue eyes radiated with charisma and prowess, and they reminded her almost of Spike's eyes. She wondered briefly to herself for a moment if all elder vampires were this good looking. Then she remembered exactly what predicament she was in and silently chastised herself.

He wore trademark black clothing--obviously vampires weren't much into bright colors, not suited to slinking in and out of shadows--and the way the clothes hung off his frame only served to heighten his lean appearance.

His complexion resembled that of Angelus, while his demeanor was more regal...polished...distinguished. He didn't walk with the careless air that Angelus, or even Spike, did, but the same sensuousness of his movements, which were precise and defined, was apparent with every motion he made. Sheer power radiated from his body and his voice as he spoke, and Willow figured to herself that he must have been in a position of power before he was turned.

"What?!" Willow finally exclaimed, letting his previous words sink in. "What power? What are you talking about?"

"Willow, I'm told," he spoke with the same casual tone Angelus had used so often as he approached her, ignoring her question, "quite a formidable witch, I see. That's good. It's really a shame, though, that you'll never get the opportunity to further your powers."

"Oh, bite me," Willow muttered underneath her breath. Then, realizing that vampires had an acute sense of hearing, her eyes flew in instant regret and shock to meet Jaufien's amused ones. Willow felt the color rising to her cheeks, but she refused to look away again. She would stand her ground. Or, as it more pertained to her situation, sit in her chair.

Jaufien, in response to her obvious defiance, laughed out loud. It was an almost charming laugh--considering it came from an evil demon.

"And you're supposed to be dead!" Willow exclaimed, talking to Jaufien, but looking accusingly at Angelus. He just smirked, which infuriated the redhead even more. This time directing her comment towards Angelus, she fumed, "You lying, stupid, evil, nasty, mean...grr..." she trailed off as she ran out of things to call him. Jaufien was supposed to be dead--not becoming best buds with Angelus all over again.

Now their plan was really screwed.

Should she try--assuming she got out of this mess alive--to do the restoration spell again anyway? Things were already spinning out of control too quickly, and Willow's head began to hurt.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Angelus kneeled down next to her and placed one of his hands on her shoulder and the other over her knee. "But screaming will," his voice was a sultry whisper that sent shivers through Willow's spine. She had forgotten to add 'and absolutely gorgeous' to that flattery list.

"Now, now, Angelus," Jaufien chided him, walking towards his table full of books, "we don't want to frighten her into dying before her time."

Angelus stood up, but refused to remove his eyes from Willow. "Didn't you say something about getting a container to store her energy?" he asked Jaufien, slightly irritated.

"Energy?" Willow cried out in confusion yet again, remembering Jaufien's earlier statement about absorbing her power.

"As a matter of fact, I did. And as soon as the sun goes down--which isn't even an hour away, if you can manage to wait that long--I will," Jaufien told Angelus, once again completely ignoring Willow's statement, "and quit fretting. You'll get plenty of time to play with the girl later."

"What energy?!" Willow yelled at the top of her lungs, intent on getting the two vampires to answer her. As their heads turned to look at her in astonishment--they were practically flabbergasted that such a loud noise could come from someone with such a small frame--Willow gulped and rethought her attempt at yelling at the two powerful, elder, blood-sucking vampires--both of whom happened to be looking hungrily at her that very moment.

"Well?" she offered meekly at the end.

Angelus' face broke out into a grin as he heard the slight squeak in her voice. "Do you really want to know, Willow?" he asked, kneeling next to her once again, this time leaning his elbow almost conversationally on the back of the chair. At the tone of his voice, Willow briefly considered taking back her question.

"Umm..."

"Now or later," Angelus tantalized her with the option as if it was a piece of fruit, "either way, it'll happen. It just depends on whether you'd like to know what's going to happen."

"Angelus," Jaufien, interrupted in, "let's not give the little witch any ideas by informing her of what's in store, shall we?"

"Well, who's to say I don't have any ideas anyway?" Willow attempted to defend herself, "I mean...I'm a powerful witch and all! Yeah! And, and if I wanted to, I could set this whole place on fire right now!"

"Well, that wouldn't be very smart, would it? Considering that both Angelus and I are free to escape, and well, you're not," Jaufien reminded her in a tone similar to a father chiding his daughter.

"Well...that was just an example!" Willow retorted, embarrassed yet again. She *really* didn't like this situation. "What, did you think I would just come right out and say what I was planning?"

Jaufien smiled at her quick thinking and turned to Angelus, "Oh, I like her all right," he grinned, reminding Willow of Spike yet again. Rolling her eyes, Willow wondered to herself if all vampires acted like these two: arrogant, possessive, and absolutely annoying. "Well, I can honestly say that the feeling isn't mutual," Willow hissed icily at him.

"Spirit is certainly very attractive in a mortal," Jaufien replied smoothly, coldly to her insult, "but I assure you--it will be broken."

Willow gritted her teeth.

"Have fun with your toy," Jaufien spoke, turning to Angelus, "and when I get back, we'll proceed with our schedule."

Willow fumed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Willow exhaled in relief as Jaufien exited the room. She would have been even more relieved had Angelus gone with him, but, at least, a part of her felt like she could deal with Angelus. After all, Angelus couldn't kill her, which wasn't an advantage she had over Jaufien, since she highly doubted that Jaufien knew about the binding spell.

"Did Jaufien offend you that much?" Angelus inquired, hearing Willow's expulsion of breath. Willow remained silent.

"Not to worry," Angelus squatted in front of her, "you'll get use to him after awhile--maybe even get to like him."

"If I can't stand *you*, what makes you think I'd stand *him*?" Willow questioned venomously.

"Oh, you'll come to stand me all right," Angelus promised her, "you'll have to. It's the way things work."

"What are you talking about?" Willow asked, wondering if he was perhaps referring to the binding spell.

"Well, all children form an unbreakable bond with their sires--especially as fledglings," Angelus told her, as if it was the most common thing in the world.

Willow paled visibly as her brain registered the meaning of Angelus' words. He was going to turn her. He was going to make her into one of *them*. And then she would probably end up dying at Buffy's hands. Or vice versa.

"What?" Willow barely managed to choke out through the haze of revulsion. Despite everything, she hadn't expected this. Death, yes. She had had nightmares on countless nights about dying at the hands of a vampire, of having her blood--her life force--taken from her. Often times, the face in those dreams was Angelus. Sometimes Spike. Sometimes some nameless, faceless vampire. And sometimes, even though it had been almost three years, Jesse.

Willow shuddered at the memory of what he became--and the fate that befell him.

"You heard me," Angelus stood up and walked around to the back of the chair, leaning over Willow predatorily. "You forget, I've been gone awhile, but I have all of Angel's memories from while he was in control. And you know what one of my favorite memories is?"

Willow was afraid to answer his question. Afraid, because she already knew the answer.

"Tell me, Willow. What am I thinking about?" he asked almost seductively into her ear.

Willow's lips remained sealed.

"I said," he gripped her hair roughly and pulled her head back, forcing her to look him in the eyes, "tell me."

Another stab of pain shot through Willow's neck as sore bones popped from the pressure. "The Bronze," she answered him through gritted teeth.

"What about the Bronze?" a small smile played across his lips.

"The Doppelganger," Willow admitted.

"That's right," Angelus released his hold on her, but remained where he was. "You as a vampire. Now tell me, didn't seeing what you could be--the power you could have--entice you? You were absolutely breathtaking."

Willow couldn't convincingly disagree with that statement. She had been almost captivated by her double's prowess. Her strength, her power, the respect she instinctively demanded. But the almost-psychotic aspect did worry her a bit.

"I'm not a killer," Willow finally told him firmly.

"Oh, but you will be," Angelus refuted her statement, "one of the best."

"You can't kill me!" Willow erupted with the first thought to cross her mind.

"And why not?"

"The spell! We don't know what the side effects are. If I die--"

"--Then I might die too?" Angelus finished the statement for her. "Sorry, but funny thing about on-going spells--they only last for as long the caster has his ability. We're supposedly bound by your magickal energy. Once that's gone--there won't be any residual effects lefts."

"Can you be sure of that?" Willow hoped to place some doubt--any doubt--in his mind in order to keep him from going through with his plan.

"Oh, I can," Angelus counteracted her threat.

Willow's hopes fell. Then a new idea sprang to mind. "What makes you think Jaufien won't just kill me? Hmm? What makes you think that he'll even let you turn me?" there was an almost snide tone to her voice, which Angelus didn't miss.

"Jaufien doesn't *let* me do anything," he snarled, gripping her shoulders, "I do what I want."

"Is that why even after all these years, you'll still following him around like a puppy? Taking his orders, following his plans--it's something more Angel-esque, if you ask me," she taunted, hoping she hadn't just signed her own death warrant.

"Is that so?" Angelus tried to suppress his already rising temper.

"Yeah," Willow challenged him, "why, I bet he doesn't even know about the last 80 years you spent with a soul, does he? What, you're afraid he won't approve?"

Angelus' snarl intensified as he launched into game-face, "I'm like Angel, am I? Tell me, would Angel do this?" With that threat, he sank his fangs into Willow's neck--purposely missing the jugular--but taking Willow completely by surprise.

She cried out more in fright than in pain as she felt Angelus' fangs tear through her skin and her blood rush up to the surface, only to be sucked away by Angelus' hungry mouth. He retracted his fangs after a moment, but kept his head bent to lick up the remaining blood. He wouldn't admit it, but her blood had been intoxicating.

Willow let out a ragged breath as he felt his fangs exit from her skin. His bite hadn't been violent--Willow knew that instinctively. If it had, she'd have been in much more pain. That, on the only positive side since her cursed trip to Los Angeles, at least showed that he was in control of himself--something Willow had to marvel at. "Angelus!" Jaufien bellowed as he re-entered the room from that same door. Willow guessed it probably led to some sort of underground passage.

At the calling of his name, Angelus' head snapped up from where he had continued to nip at Willow's neck--something that had inadvertently sent shivers through Willow's spine. Once again, she berated herself, reminding her obviously irrational mind that this was an evil demon.

"What?" he barked, angry at being interrupted.

At seeing that Willow was still very much alive, Jaufien apologized, "Well, it seemed the young witch would be leaving us before participating in her final magick show."

"I'm not stupid," Angelus' voice still held some hostility. Obviously, Willow's words had bruised his already sensitive pride when it came to his mentor.

"I didn't say you were," Jaufien locked his eyes onto Angelus', sensing the change in his temperament, "our container." He held up the small box, effectively changing the topic.

It appeared, by all normal observances, to be a simple wooden box, suitable to hold anything from old pictures to expensive jewelry. Obviously, it was much more.

Willow gulped as Angelus went to examine the box. She knew that she was quickly running out of time. She had to do something before she lost her powers--and her soul.

She scanned the room for anything that she could use as a weapon--preferably something sharp--but came up empty-handed. Finally settling on a rather heavy-looking book on the side table, Willow concentrated on lifting it just slightly. That, she marked with surprise, was accomplished fairly easily. With a swift expulsion of energy, she launched the book directly at Jaufien's head--and hit her target.

Jaufien was taken by surprise as the object knocked him squarely in the head. His game face went into place as he lost his balance and flailed momentarily in the air. The box slipped from his grasp, and for a moment, Willow hoped that it would crash to the ground, but Angelus dove swiftly and caught it.

As soon as she had launched the book, Willow automatically began working on untying her ropes for the second time. It came easier this time as well--Willow wondered briefly if adrenaline had anything to do with the strength of her power--and in a flash, she was up and out of her chair, racing towards the door.

She had almost gotten herself outside when a strong arm whipped out from behind her and locked her in its grasp, knocking the wind out of her. The open door slammed shut in front of her, and Willow yelled in frustration.

"Not so fast," Angelus' angry voice hit her ears, proving him to be the owner of the powerful arm holding her to his frame. He gripped her tightly as he walked back into the center of the room, and Willow noted that Jaufien was upright but still in game face. He obviously didn't like her attempt at escape. He held a book--an old journal of sorts--in one hand, and the box in the other.

"It seems you're not one that can be contained for long," he spoke to her, "so we'll begin right away."

"No!" Willow struggled futilely against Angelus' hold.

"Just relax, Willow," he whispered to her, "by this time tomorrow, this life will be but a hated memory."

"No, no, no, no, no!" Willow yelled again, shaking her head violently. Panic and fear seized her with its icy grip--even colder than Angelus'--as she fought against what was quickly turning into her imminent death.

Power surged through her as she felt for the first time--sensed--Angelus' presence behind her. "Let me go!" she shrieked, her eyes flashing a golden-yellow with the combined strength of her fear, hatred, rage, and power.

Before she knew what was happening, the iron hold Angelus had on her loosened, and Willow crumpled to a heap on the floor. Not pausing to question what just happened, Willow scrambled to her feet and raced out the door, hearing Jaufien's voice and footsteps follow her as she went.

By some miracle, Willow made it past the door, onto the ground below, and down the path. She didn't know where she was, or where she was going. She only knew to run as fast as she could.

Jaufien's threw his hands up in outrage as Angelus, with an oddly blank look over his face, blocked him from chasing Willow out the door. Caught in a wave of fury, Jaufien punched Angelus in the gut, and again across the face, sending him to the floor. Awareness came back into his eyes as he met the cold ground, and he leapt to his feet.

"What in Satan's name just happened?!" Jaufien's eyes were flashing.

End Part 8

"What?" Angelus blinked in confusion.

"I *said*," Jaufien gritted his teeth, "what the hell just happened here? You let her get away!"

"I did not!" Angelus huffed, letting his instinctive pride take over. He drew himself up to his full height, preparing to defend himself.

"Then where is she?" Jaufien crossed his arms over his chest, his temper seething.

Angelus looked around for a moment, searching for the escaped witch. When his eyes couldn't seek out her telltale red hair, his gaze flew to Jaufien. He remembered her struggling against him--fighting futilely to escape her fate and screaming at him to let her go. Then the next thing he knew, Jaufien had punched him across the face and she was nowhere to be found.

And there was only one explanation.

"The spell!" he cursed aloud, forgetting that Jaufien was standing right in front of him, "I'll kill her! I'll rip her throat out!"

"Or you'll let her go," Jaufien interrupted him snidely, "care to explain to me what happened? What spell?" he had managed to regain some of his control.

Angelus looked at Jaufien for a moment, then responded, "It's nothing. I'll deal with it." He turned to head out the door, since he still had quite a few hours until daylight, intent on finding Willow.

"Oh no you don't," Jaufien grabbed him from behind, "you'll deal with nothing alone--not when it concerns *my* plans!"

"You and your plans!" Angelus snarled, letting his game face settle over his features, "to hell with both!"

Jaufien backhanded Angelus once again, taking him off guard and sending him crashing into the wall. Not wanting to give him a chance to counteract, Jaufien grabbed him quickly and held him against the wall, effectively pinning him.

"Do you have any idea how much time I've invested in this plan?" he whispered, his tone deadly serious.

"I thought you were the one that always used to say 'what is time to an immortal'?" Angelus provoked him.

Jaufien shoved Angelus into the wall yet again before replying, "*Not* when I've put nearly 50 years into searching for the scrolls, the journals, the materials--*not* when I'm this close!"

"So we'll find another witch," Angelus offered, wondering what Jaufien wasn't telling him. No one--not even a vampire--spent that much time focused on one plan--unless the payoff meant Armageddon.

"It's not about the witch!" Jaufien threw Angelus viciously to the floor, "it's your attitude! I taught you better than that!"

Angelus scrambled to his feet hurriedly. He had never seen his mentor this angry, and it was proving to be very unsettling. He opted to remain quiet.

Jaufien took a moment to let his temper calm down before continuing, his voice softer, "You were my best student--better than a childe could ever have been. This," he spread his hands, palms up, as if to encompass everything, "was supposed to be *our* plan. *Our* chance for definitive victory."

The tone in his voice was one that Angelus had never really heard--at least not directed at him--and one that he had never used. His own mortal father had been disgusted by him, and he had never shown any raw emotion towards Spike, his own childe, whom he had taken immense pride in. And now he didn't know how to react to it, so he fell back on cruelty.

"Well, as you just stated--I'm not your childe," he sneered, "and I can hatch my own diabolical plans."

Jaufien merely looked at him, a hint of sadness reflected in his eyes. He reminded Angelus of a disappointed father--a look he had constantly gotten from his own.

"What?" he snarled, charging forward so he was practically nose to nose with Jaufien, "Don't you dare give me that look. You're a demon. Not some sort of sniveling, feeling mortal."

"Is that what you think?" Jaufien asked, his calm tone contrasting eerily with his earlier rage. "You think all demons are unfeeling? You think all demons walk around with this sort of tone--this sort of attitude?"

He advanced upon Angelus as he spoke, his cruelly emotionless tone sending Angelus back a few steps. "Hate is as much a feeling as love," Jaufien continued, "Anger as much a feeling as peace. Demons feel, Angelus, just as much as mortals. Maybe even more. We have emotion and passion--you don't need a conscience for that. And it's time you understood the true nature of both man and beast--or you won't survive much longer."

Angelus' silence was his only reply, but his eyes shone with defiance. Jaufien looked closely at him, then asked, "Why so much hostility, Angelus? You're a demon, yes, and that is our nature--but not in such magnitudes. What's happened to you this past century? You've almost gotten...soft."

His eyes blazing as a result of that last remark, Angelus charged forward, tackling Jaufien. "I am not soft," he snarled, "and I'm not some sniveling souled pathetic excuse for a vampire!"

Jaufien, upon hearing those words, wasn't quite sure what to make of them, but he decided to hold off on the questions for a moment. As Angelus slammed into him, he brought his arms around the other vampire and lifted him up, throwing him to the floor.

Angelus rolled easily back to his feet, only to have a leg come crashing into his mid-section and a fist snap his head back. He easily avoided the roundhouse aimed for his chest--that combination had been a favorite of Jaufien's since they traveled together--and swiftly footsweeped Jaufien.

"Maybe sometimes change is a good thing," he taunted, "or maybe you've just gotten too old."

Jaufien chose not to reply, instead lashing his foot out and wrapping it around Angelus' ankle, bringing him face-first to the floor as well. Leaping forward, he pounced on Angelus and pressed a knee into the small of his back, simultaneously pulling back his right arm in a vise-like grip and keeping him pinned to the ground.

"And just *who* in here is a souled vampire?" he voiced his question, wrenching Angelus' twisted arm for emphasis. Angelus remained silent.

Jaufien puzzled over his behavior for a moment, then spoke, "You spent a few years in Romania, didn't you?" his voice grew accusing, "and right after that, you dropped off the radar. What happened there?"

"None of your business," Angelus hissed through gritted teeth.

"Did they curse you?" Jaufien's voice was mocking.

When Angelus once again refused to answer, he pressed his knee down harder, causing a bolt of pain to spread through Angelus' spine. "They did, didn't they? And that's why you've been acting like a complete jackass? Because they cursed you with a soul? Well, gypsies are known for their perverse sense of humor."

Releasing Angelus from his hold, he stood up and casually dusted himself off, as if this new revelation meant absolutely nothing to him.

Angelus got up off the ground slowly, relaxing a little bit. Perversely, he almost felt better now that Jaufien had it figured out. Almost. "For eighty years I was forced into a little cage, watching that damn soul starve *my* body into oblivion, and then, later, actually helping the Sl--to slay demons. And other vampires."

"Must have been absolutely humiliating," all traces of humor were gone from Jaufien's eyes, "especially for someone like you--we both know the size of your ego."

"You have no idea how badly I've wanted to--"

"Do you think you're any less of a demon?" Jaufien interrupted him.

"What?" Angelus wasn't sure if he was supposed to be offended by that remark.

"Do you?" Jaufien merely repeated inquisitively.

"Of course not!"

"Good. Because no student of mine ever forgets my lessons. They grow a little rusty, maybe, but they never forget. Just like you haven't forgotten."

"I've never questioned my abilities."

"And you shouldn't. You were my student--the Scourge of Europe--the vampire whose cruelty has been unparalleled--except by yours truly. Ahh, how quickly they forget the masters!" Jaufien indulged himself for a moment in his glory days.

"You? Forgettable? Not likely," Angelus was beginning to feel a lot like his old self. He'd get his revenge, and he'd get back his dignity. And then the Slayer and the pathetic Council would see the true extent of his capabilities. "More like they just thought you were dead--dropping out of sight for fifty years and all that."

Jaufien smiled at the noticeable shift in the younger vampire's demeanor. His pride had been restored--for now. But Jaufien still had a few questions he wanted answered. And a few doubts put to rest.

"Well, we all have our business to attend to. Now, if you'd like to join me for a celebratory drink--I'm thinking a young, preferably innocent, frightened, solitary soul. Sound good to you?"

"Sounds excellent," Angelus smacked his lips as if for emphasis, then checked the time, "and would you look at that--hunting season's still open."

End Part 9

Willow was completely out of breath by the time she reached the Angel Investigations office. Not being familiar with the Los Angeles area, she was forced to stop and ask quite a few people along to way how to get to this particular intersection.

And, as a result, she got a quite a few weird stares, but it wasn't as if she could really blame them. Here she was, a tiny red-headed teenager, running furiously up and down various streets with a wild-eyed look, hair and clothes in complete disarray, and a frantic, almost desperate tone in her voice.

A lot of people would certainly have a story to tell to their friends tonight.

Friends.

That word immediately took her back to Sunnydale, and all the people who were completely oblivious to the events unfolding quite rapidly in the city of angels--people who had a right to know.

Willow took a deep breath, simultaneously trying to quiet her racing heart and her guilty conscience. She slowed her pace as she ascended the steps into the office, hoping against hope that either Doyle or Cordelia was still there. After what happened to her tonight, she wasn't at all ashamed to admit that she was petrified beyond words of staying by herself.

Angelus was going to turn her.

The mere memory of that terrifying moment--forever singled out in her short life--sent goosebumps tingling all over her skin. Dead tired or not, she was performing the barrier spell tonight and revoking Angelus' invitation into the office.

Opening the door to the office, she poked her head nervously inside, checking to make sure it was a vampire-free zone.

"Doyle?" Cordelia's voice came from inside the office, "is that you?"

Willow exhaled in relief and entered the office completely, securing the door behind her as she closed it. "It's me, Willow," she called out, not wanting to scare Cordelia.

"Willow!" the brunette exclaimed as she appeared in front of her, "you're safe!" Willow was taken completely by surprise as the former cheerleader practically tackled her and enveloped her in a bear hug.

"We were so worried about you I mean we couldn't get in touch with you for like ever and when we came here and you weren't here we thought that maybe you went for a walk or something but then you didn't come back and Doyle and I started to freak and then Doyle went out to look for you and we thought that maybe Angelus had gotten you and that you were lying dead in the street somewhere and what the hell happened to you?" Cordelia finally ended her rambling as she took in Willow's rumpled appearance for the first time.

"Well, if I caught all the words in what you just said--and hey! Rambling's supposed to by my thing!--Nevermind. I *did* get caught by Angelus and it was really stupid of me and I can't believe that--"

"You ran into Angelus?" Cordelia was both amazed and relieved that Willow was actually standing here in front of her alive and well. Or so she hoped.

Leaping back practically ten feet, Cordelia grabbed the cross sitting on her desk and half-accused, "You're not a vampire, are you?"

"No, Cordy, I'm not," Willow reassured her, "if I was, you'd have had to invite me in here, right?"

"Yeah," Cordelia lowered the cross, feeling a bit silly for not having thought of that ahead of time. But damn if she wasn't going to be completely sure. Putting the cross back down on her desk, she opened a drawer and extracted a small hand-mirror, "You wouldn't mind taking a look at yourself in the mirror, then would you?"

Willow couldn't help but laugh at Cordelia's antics as she stepped forward and took the mirror from her hands. Holding it up to her face, she, too, was almost relieved as she saw her reflection staring back at her, no matter how disheveled that reflection was.

"Good," Cordelia stated firmly after seeing the reflection as well. She took the mirror and placed it back into its designated spot, then seated herself on the corner of the desk and asked, "So then what happened? How'd you get away?"

"I don't quite know," Willow followed her lead and sat down in the chair, "maybe it was some sort of effect of the binding spell..."

Cordelia cocked her head slightly as she asked, "Why don't you just tell me what happened?"

"Well, I was walking down the street here and Angelus came out of nowhere and he grabbed me and knocked me unconscious and then I found myself tied to a chair in some weird old warehouse-type place quite a few miles from here and oh! Oh! Jaufien! He's still alive!"

"What?" Cordelia exclaimed, "but Angelus said that he killed him and that was our mistake right there," realization dawned in her voice. "Damn!" she swore.

"Yeah," Willow agreed meekly with her, "and now the two of them have teamed up and are concocting some sort of plan and they tried to steal my energy!" she suddenly remembered. In all the terror at nearly being turned, she had amazingly actually forgot about the fact that they had tried to take her magickal energy.

"They what?" Cordelia lost her.

"They, they said something about absorbing my energy--magick type stuff. If we could, I don't know, maybe find some sort of ritual that needs something like that, then maybe we could figure out what they're up to," Willow offered almost desperately.

"Maybe," Cordelia pondered over it a second, "but I get the distinct feeling that there are gonna be a *lot* of spells that require something like that. It might not help us that much."

Willow was silent for a moment as she took in the almost indistinct changes in the brunette's personality. Never in a million years would she have imagined that Cordelia would become a...demon-hunting groupie. Just a few weeks ago, she would have placed her money on the fact that Cordelia would become some sort of super-model and completely forget about the nightly activities in Sunnydale.

Bringing her mind back to the present, Willow realized that Cordelia's statement was correct. Energy--be it magick or blood--was a common ingredient in a lot of ancient rituals. Willow growled in exasperation as she bolted out of her chair, practically knocking it backwards.

"This is getting completely out of control!" she threw up her hands, "It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

Cordelia, too, stood, and placed her hand on Willow's shoulder. "Things are definitely spiraling downward here," she agreed. In all honesty, what were the three of them--two mortals and a witch--going to do against two master vampires?

"I think we just need to re-curse Angelus," Willow told her, "bring Angel back. Then we can go to Sunnydale and get Buffy's help and hopefully just get all of this over with."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Cordelia agreed, "'cause we have gotten in *way* over our heads. And personally, I happen to *like* my head and there is no way I intend on losing it."

"Great," Willow felt mildly relieved now that they at least had some sort of plan.

"Let me call Doyle," Cordelia went to the phone, "I think he's got the cell phone with him."

Willow nodded her head and sat down once again to wait.

***

Angelus licked his lips as he dropped the third lifeless body that night to the ground. After all that time cooped up, he had to admit that it felt damn good sinking his fangs into tender flesh.

Jaufien clapped him on the back as he, too, finished with his second course in the night. His remaining doubts had been put to rest. He'd seen Angelus kill, and he was satisfied that there were no remnants of a soul left within him.

"Feeling better are we?" he asked jovially.

"Much," Angelus grinned, his human features slipping back into place. He had gotten quite a few adrenaline rushes in the past hour or so--two of his three victims had actually thought they could out-run him.

"Good," Jaufien replied, "the last thing I need is a grouchy vampire ruining my victory."

"Speaking of which," Angelus came to stand next to him as they began to walk casually down the street, "when, exactly, does it go into effect?"

"I see someone's a bit more eager now than he was just a couple of hours ago," Jaufien teased him.

"Well, even I have to admit that chaos and mayhem can sooth any beast," Angelus smirked.

"True. And it will all go into effect once I have all my ingredients."

"You mean a witch?" Angelus asked, his voice dark.

"Among other things," Jaufien brushed off that night's failed attempts with a wave of his hand. "Nuts and bolts, Angelus. These are all nuts and bolts. Quite essential to our plan, yes, but a dime a dozen. Except, of course, for one relic."

"Which is?"

"A rather old item. Perhaps you've heard of it--" Jaufien was cut off by a voice calling out to them. Or rather, to Angel.

"Angel!" the owner of the female voice finally rushed up to them, "I've been trying to get in touch with you since yesterday. Where have you been?"

Angelus turned as he recognized the voice, smiling at his good fortune. "Hello, Kate," he spoke casually, "I've been a bit busy. What is it you needed to talk to me about?"

"Umm, who's this?" Kate indicated Jaufien with a slight nod of her head. She didn't want to divulge any official police business in the company of a stranger. Then again, she had to wonder why she was even telling Angel. Truth was, she didn't know him all that well either.

"This? This is a friend of mine," Angelus supplied easily, "a colleague, you might say. We're in the same profession."

Kate was starting to get a distinctly uneasy feeling. There was something about the tone of Angel's voice--and the emptiness in both his and his 'colleague's' eyes--that was beginning to scare her.

"Another private investigator?" she asked a bit nervously, taking an unconscious step backwards. Unfortunately, it was completely noticeable to Angelus.

"No," he decided he'd just have to end it here, "not quite." Shifting into game face, he watched in sadistic pleasure as a look of complete horror came over the normally stoic detective's face.

"Whatever it was you were going to tell me?" he began, advancing on her, "I don't think you're gonna get the chance."

End Part 10

"Angel?" Kate's voice shook as his face shifted into a gnarled mask of ridges and his eyes glowed yellow. There was a look in those eyes that she was all too familiar with. She could have sworn that her eyes were playing tricks on her, but it also looked as if his canine teeth were protruding past his grinning lips.

She was trained to observe with her eyes, though, and at that moment, her eyes didn't know how to interpret the scene in front of her. A stab of fear went through her as her brain finally registered that this was an unknown occurrence and prompted her to run.

On rubber legs, Kate turned to make a mad dash for the nearest well-lit area, but found that she hadn't even gone five feet before she was yanked back into a punishing grip.

"Tell me something, Kate," Angelus whispered into her ear, one arm wrapped securely around her waist, the other around her neck, "how long have you been working with the LAPD?"

When she didn't answer, he swung her around so that she was facing him and shoved her harshly into the wall that was now behind her. He heard her head make contact with the brick as well as the slight crack of bones popping. "How long?" he repeated his question.

"A while," she breathed, her heart hammering in her chest and pure, animalistic fear taking control of her senses.

"Good enough," Angelus shrugged, grabbing her by the hair and yanking her head to one side. Advancing closer, her continued, "And in however much time you define 'a while' as, did you ever notice anything…different about some cases? Something that you couldn't quite understand? Did you ever have a trail of victims, all with the same mode of death, but no culprit?"

Kate's eyes flashed with an emotion that Angelus recognized as blind terror. Not only were her senses and survival instincts on overdrive, but his words had also struck a chord of truth in the detective.

"Tell me. How many victims have you found with puncture wounds on their necks, their blood drained out of them?"

Still Kate refused to answer.

Angelus merely shrugged his shoulders, and sighed, "Fine. Be that way. I was planning on delivering your murderer...s...plural, right into your hands, but if you don't want to know, that's your deal. But you're still gonna die."

Grabbing her with both hands, Angelus pulled her numb body closer and leaned over her neck, sinking his fangs snugly into her jugular.

Kate cried out in pain as she felt something penetrate her neck. She couldn't believe it. Even at death's door, she refused to believe that what was happening was actually happening. A man--her friend--was standing over her...drinking her blood? She felt her heart began to slow as darkness swam in front of her vision. She had never imagined she would die in this manner--she always expected a bullet.

Then the next thing she knew, she was lying on her back on the concrete, the blood still flowing from her wound, but no foreign penetration of her neck. She heard sounds of scuffling, some yelling, and a distinctively Irish voice.

Moving her hand up to her neck, Kate grimaced as she felt the blood coat her fingers. Pressing down roughly and swallowing the pain, Kate attempted to staunch the blood flow. She then placed her left elbow on the ground and shifted her weight, propping herself up. Shaking her head in order to clear her vision, Kate squinted and tried to make out what was going on.

Angelus and his friend were advancing on a young man holding out a cross and talking furiously--most likely in a desperate attempt to save his life. Kate recognized him as Doyle, the man who worked with Angel, and wondered to herself once again about what happened to Angel. Or what Angel really was. If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn that he was...Kate shook her head once again. She did know better.

Fear once again grabbed at her as she saw Angel's friend lunge for Doyle, and she cried out, reminding the two of them of her presence. Using all of the momentum she could gather, Kate pushed herself onto her knees and grabbed her gun. She felt the blood start to flow again as her hand left her neck, but she knew that she couldn't allow anything to happen to Doyle.

Aiming the gun as best as she could, she pulled the trigger and was pleased to see in enter squarely into the small of the other man's back. He whirled around and glared at her. Kate was startled momentarily--although she didn't really know why--at seeing that his face had become a mirror of Angel's--ridges and eyes and...fangs?

Kate held up the gun once again and fired nearly an entire round into the man. When she saw that it wasn't having any effect, she swiftly shifted her aim and fired at Angel, who was preoccupied with Doyle. Now that she had both men's attentions, Kate didn't know whether she should be glad for Doyle or frightened beyond her wits for herself.

Staggering awkwardly to her feet, Kate prepared herself for her inevitable death, but was once again shocked to her roots: Doyle had advanced behind the two...demons...and had thrown what seemed to be a bottle of water on them. What she saw next she knew could never have been explained by any forensics expert or scientist. They literally began to burn. She then saw Doyle hold up the cross once again, and saw the two retreat. Catching Angel's eye before he left, Kate held up her gun, but it was unnecessary. The two turned and fled into the darkness.

Kate sank to the floor.

"Are ya okay?" Doyle asked, rushing towards the fallen blonde, "oh, that's a great question ta be askin'," Doyle kicked himself as he saw her condition and all of the blood. "Ya need ta get ta a hospital."

"No, no hospital," Kate told him harshly.

"Yer sittin' here bleedin' ta death," Doyle reminded her, as if she really needed reminding.

"I'll be fine!" Kate snapped, getting to her feet awkwardly. There was still blood flowing, but in small trickles. What blood there had been had already dried up and served to clot the wound. "I'm sorry," she apologized, looking at Doyle. This man had practically saved her life. At least she could be civil...even if it did seem like he knew who and what they were.

"I just...don't like hospitals," Kate told him the partial truth.

"I see," Doyle was quiet for a moment, wondering how she was dealing with what had just happened to her--and what she had just seen.

"What were they?" Kate asked in a whisper.

Doyle studied her eyes for a moment, then answered, "I think ya already know the answer ta that."

"No, no I don't," Kate shook her head furiously, still refusing the word that kept pushing its way to her lips. But even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. She did know.

And Doyle knew she knew. But he also knew that she wasn't ready to deal with it. "If ya don't want a hospital, at least let me take ya ta a safe place and get ya bandaged up." He held out his hand in a gesture of friendship and was relieved when Kate took it. They might make some progress yet.

***

"Doyle!" Cordelia exclaimed as she saw him enter the office with a bloody and haggard-looking detective in tow. "What happened? I've been trying to call you..." she trailed off as Doyle helped Kate sit down then pulled out a mashed cellular phone. "On this?" he asked with a wry grin.

"Oh, well, that explains it," Cordelia threw her hands up, "Willow's safe," she told him as she eyed Kate with concern.

"Yeah?" Doyle asked, looking around.

"Here," Willow emerged from a door with two glasses of water in her hands. "Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed, setting the glasses down quickly on the desk and running to the injured woman, "You've been bit--uh...bleeding."

"It's okay, Willow," Doyle told her, "she knows."

"Oh," Willow was quiet for a moment, eyeing the woman.

"Know? Know what?" Kate stood up quickly. When a wave of dizziness hit her, she thought better of it and sat back down. "I don't know anything about what happened tonight except for the fact that Angel attacked me, tried to kill me, and is so going to get his ass tossed into a state lock-up the second I find him."

"Angelus attacked you?" Willow burst out in confusion.

"Willow, allow me ta introduce ya ta Detective Kate Lockley, LAPD. She and Angel worked on a few cases together," Doyle explained to her, "Kate, this is Willow. A friend of Angel's...from his past."

"You keep psychotic murderers for friends?" Kate questioned her, a trace of malice in her voice.

"Angel is not a murderer," Cordelia defended her boss, "but Angelus is."

"You talk like there's a difference," Kate practically barked, "so what if he goes by different names?"

Willow was silent for a moment, then turned to Cordelia, "Do you have any First Aid supplies?"

"Yeah, I'll go get them," Cordelia shot an icy look at Kate then turned and left the room.

"You said she knew," Willow addressed Doyle.

"She does," Doyle came to stand next to the redhead, "she doesn't want ta accept it."

"Will you quit talking like I'm not even in the room?" Kate snapped.

"You might as well not be," Cordelia spoke, carrying a packet of bandages and rubbing alcohol. She deposited them on the table and Willow quickly got to work cleaning off Kate's injuries.

"I can do this myself you know," she told Willow.

"I'm sure you could. But you need to stay here for awhile. We need to talk," Willow replied.

"I'll say. How long have the three of you known that Angel was a murderer?"

"Angel is not a murderer," Cordelia snapped, coming to stand in front of the detective but being careful to stay out of Willow's way, "Angel is a vampire. That's right--a vampire. Can we say vampire? Pointy teeth come and suck my blood? You know what you saw and you're too chicken to admit it. So let me say if for you. Vampire. Vampire vampire vampire. Angel is a vampire. He's always been a vampire. Even when he was nice cuddly guy, he's always been a vampire. You were friends with a vampire. We *are* friends with a vampire. Just not this vampire. This vampire is Angelus. He's different from Angel. He is *not* Angel. There's a difference. But they are both vampires. Is that clear enough for you?"

Kate's face had gone pale during Cordelia's tirade, and the only word she could muster was, "How?"

***

Daylight found the four occupants of the Angel Investigations office much as they had been just hours before. Willow, Doyle and Cordelia had tried as best as they could to answer Kate's questions, sometimes with a patient understanding, sometimes with exasperated irritation.

Kate's wound had been cleaned and the detective was starting to feel her strength seeping back, despite her tiredness. She had spent the last few hours learning about the history of vampires and demons-more specifically, the history of a demon named Angel. At least, as much history as the three of his friends knew.

Silence had fallen over the group as Kate eyed each of them in turn. Finally, she sighed and stood up, "I have to go."

"Where?" Willow asked her, also standing up. She was worried about what the detective would do.

"First off, I need to get home and shower. Then I've got to check in with the station before someone notices I haven't checked in since last evening and sends out a search party. Then…I've got to sort some things out in my mind," Kate told her honestly. Oddly, after all their bouts, she felt a bit closer to each of them.

"Okay," Willow nodded, "just don't tell anyone about what happened..."

"And risk getting myself locked up in some psych ward?" Kate scoffed, "I'm not saying anything to anyone."

"Good," Cordelia, too, stood up, "and at least get yourself checked out by an expert."

"Right," Kate nodded her head, then looked at Doyle and said, "and thank you...for saving my life last night."

"Just get some rest," Doyle told her, going to hold the door open for her.

"Thanks," Kate smiled. With a final look, she headed for home.

End Part 11

"You never did tell me who that woman was," Jaufien reminded Angelus. After spending most of the day removing bullets and recovering from burns, the two vampires were seated casually on the floor of their hideaway. The sun had set a few minutes ago, but they decided they would wait for a while before getting their dinners.

"An acquaintance of mine from the souled days," Angelus shrugged his shoulders.

"You hung around mortals?" Jaufien raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"I told you--those days weren't pretty. But they're over now." Changing the subject, Angelus questioned, "You mentioned something last night shortly before we were interrupted about some old artifact?"

"That's right."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What about it?"

"I have yet to find it," Jaufien told him plainly.

"I figured," Angelus retorted. "So what is it?"

"The Sword of Gwydeon," Jaufien's deep voice reverberated around the room, "one of the most powerful weapons ever forged by man."

Angelus was quiet for a moment. He knew that he'd heard of that weapon before, but he couldn't place it. "I've heard of it," he began, his voice thoughtful. "I've heard someone mention it, but I can't remember who it was. Or where."

Jaufien looked him over for a moment, then sighed, "I suppose you'll remember in time. I've already got people looking for it anyhow."

"'People'?" Angelus' head shot up somewhat suspiciously, "what sort of 'people'?"

Jaufien grinned and responded, "Demons I've had working with me for years. Did you think I'd been a solitary traveler all these years?"

"Yes," was Angelus' immediate reply as he tried to convince himself he wasn't feeling jealous. "Well, maybe not…whatever," he gave up. "I'm going to get something to eat."

"Be my guest," Jaufien relaxed on the floor, "I'll go out a bit later."

"Should I bring you something?" Angelus questioned, only half-joking, "something young and frightened?"

"Tempting, but I'm in the mood for a chase tonight."

"Suit yourself," Angelus shrugged as he left the building.

***

Willow sighed as she reclined on the couch by the office entrance; she had just finished performing a spell to reverse Angelus' invitation into the office.

"Here you go," Cordelia handed her a donut and sat down on the chair across from Willow.

"Ooh! Jelly!" Willow exclaimed as she eagerly took a bite into the sweet pastry. She felt a little better than she had in days, and it all had to do with finally brining the fiasco plan to turn Angel into a demon to an end.

After Kate had left early that morning, she, Doyle and Cordelia had agreed that they would perform the restoration spell. There hadn't been any debate about it. Jaufien wasn't dead, Angel's plan hadn't worked, and it was high time they ended it.

They had, however, run out of a few materials, and Doyle volunteered to get them. He was due back any minute, and then it would all be over. Or so Willow hoped.

"You think the spell will work this time?" Cordelia asked through a mouthful of donut.

Willow was silent for a moment as her mind briefly flashed images of their first failed attempt. "I hope so," she replied honestly, "but I can't say for sure. Last time Angelus was standing not ten feet away, and that added a lot in the way of stress. That may have had something to do with it not working. This time, he won't be anywhere near us. It should work."

"I hope so," Cordelia sighed, "'cause if doesn't, I am so on the next flight to Australia. I just hope vampire's aren't able to fly international."

Willow smiled slightly at her comment. "Hopefully it won't come to that."

"Come ta what?" Doyle entered the office with the remaining materials in tow.

"Leaving the country if the spell doesn't work," Cordelia informed him bluntly as she finished off the last of her donut.

"Uh-huh," Doyle looked oddly at her, as if he was trying to picture Cordelia spending hours on a plane, bored out of her mind and bossing the air-hostesses around.

"I say we get started now," Willow took the bag from Doyle and began removing the contents.

"The sooner the better," Cordelia stood and began helping the redhead.

***

Two hours and four tries later found the occupants of the Angel Investigations office crumpled on the floor in defeat. Doyle wore an expression of barely-restrained fear and desperation, Cordelia one of outright panic, and Willow one of confused pain and rage.

"Why isn't this working?" she practically snarled, placing her hands to her temples to try and soothe away the headache that was forming.

"Are ya sure this is the right spell? Maybe some o' the words are off, or one o' the ingredients is different?"

"No," Willow informed him for the third time that night, "this is the exact way we did it two years ago. I don't understand!..."

"We're gonna die," Cordelia shook her head furiously back and forth, "we are so gonna die."

Doyle put a comforting hand on her shoulder as she said, "No, we're just goin' ta find another way."

"There is no other way!" Willow told him, "Why did I ever agree to this in the first place?" an edge of hysteria had crept into her voice.

"Willow, listen," Doyle tried to reassure her, "we can look this up--"

"Forget it," Willow rubbed at her eyes, "I need to get out of here."

"Willow," Cordelia called out to her as she headed for the door, "it's past sunset. Angelus--"

"Doesn't matter," Willow informed the brunette coldly as she stepped out the door and into the night, running from the office as quickly as she could. She could hear Doyle's footsteps and voice calling out to her from behind, but she didn't stop, turning the corner quickly instead. She didn't stop running until she was sure that Doyle was no longer following her.

Stopping to catch her breath, Willow leaned against the wall and was startled as she felt the wetness on the cheeks. She hadn't even realized she had been crying. Seating herself on the concrete, she drew her knees to her and hugged them, letting the tears fall.

It seemed as if she couldn't do anything right anymore. She had lost Oz, had botched up nearly ever spell she had attempted in the last few months, had agreed to go along with Angel's convoluted plan, and now couldn't even perform the restoration spell that she had done once before.

"Where are the evil demons when you really need them?" she muttered to herself as she contemplated, however briefly, the earth opening up and swallowing her right then and there.

"Just around the corner," a voice spoke from the darkness, "always just around the corner."

Willow leapt to her feet as Angelus emerged from the shadows, the ever-present grin on his face. She wondered briefly if she had ever seen Angel smile. He would have looked even more handsome.

"Surprise," he stepped closer to her, "did you think you could go out anywhere and I wouldn't be able to find you?"

"Not really," Willow's voice was a lot stronger than she felt, "but if you want to kill me, then go ahead."

Angelus was startled as he noticed the tear tracks along her cheeks, and he couldn't help feeling his curiosity stir. "I thought we were already through this," he sighed, "I don't kill you. I just torture you. Or turn you. Probably both."

Willow came to her senses as he spoke those words. She was standing out in the middle of a deserted street, mere inches from a deadly vampire, and no one knew where she was. She felt disgusted at herself as she realized she had really had a subconscious death wish.

And now that survival instinct, long delayed, finally decided to kick in, she had no way out of her predicament.

End Part 12

Willow mentally berated herself for getting stuck in this situation--this easily avoidable situation. If only she had listened to Doyle and hadn't gone running out into the night like a complete idiot, she wouldn't be standing on the street face to face with Angelus. The same Angelus who kidnapped her the last time they had met on the street.

The memory of that night flickered in the back of Willow's mind, and she became more determined than ever to get out of this situation. The only question was how.

"Don't tell me you're just gonna stand there staring all night," Angelus spoke as if he were questioning a child, and, truthfully, Willow felt like one.

"No," Willow took a deep breath, "I was just wondering how someone so redundant managed to survive all those years." Courage and sarcasm seemed to be her best options at that point, as well as the dangerous threat of making Angelus angry.

"Excuse me?" Thankfully, Willow only saw amusement reflected in his eyes.

"Well," she tried to draw herself up to her full height, which still fell quite a few inches shorter than Angelus, "you stand around all day...er, night...talking about how you're going to kill me or maim me or torture me or turn me...well, that's all it ever really is, isn't it? All talk? Even with Buffy! It was 'I'm gonna get Buffy this' and 'I'm gonna kill Buffy that', but you never did...not that this is an invitation for you to start or anything..."

"Do you realize you're babbling?" Angelus seemed to have completely ignored her words as he took a step closer, his eyes still unsettlingly merry. "And do you know how cute you get when you babble?"

"Um...huh?" Willow gulped fiercely as the demon neared her.

"Your cheeks turn the most interesting shade of red, and your the timbre of your voice raises ever so slightly. It becomes almost...melodious." He stepped even closer, backing her against the wall of the building along the street.

"Oh?" was all she managed to get out.

He wrapped his left hand around the back of her neck and gathered her left hand into his right one, brushing his lips over the knuckles. "And your lips seem to mesmerize any listeners."

Willow's eyes widened as he leaned forward and placed his lips over hers. There was barely any pressure, but the feather-light contact shocked Willow to her roots. She could hear her heart hammering away in her chest, and knew that Angelus could, too.

"Your fear smells so sweet," he smiled, looking into her eyes. Willow didn't know whether she should be scared witless or relieved at the fact that it was his human facade staring intently at her. His chocolate eyes seemed to bore into her own, and Willow saw a flash of something...emotion. There was something different about his eyes, but Willow couldn't put a name to it.

"And your skin is so soft," he continued.

Pushing the confusion down, Willow settled on scared witless as her emotion as she felt Angelus' lips brush over her jugular, knowing that at any moment he could shift his features and drain her lifeless. But the image of his eyes forced its way back to the forefront of her mind, making it the primary thought running through her head. She reflected on the intensity of his eyes just moments before, even as Angelus continued to caress her throat. No wonder Buffy had fallen for Angel.

The thought of Angel was like a lightening bolt striking her brain. That was it! That was the difference! The eyes that had been staring at her weren't Angelus' eyes--they were Angel's! She knew it with a certainty she couldn't explain, but somehow, *Angel was still inside that body!*

The moment the thought formed in her mind, it was gone, and Willow was left with a sense of unease. She knew she had just realized something important, but she couldn't remember what it was. It was almost as if it wasn't even her thought. It was almost as if another mind had reached out, ever so slightly, and had touched her own...

Angelus lifted his head from his caresses, the slightest trace of confusion present in his eyes. But not so slight that Willow didn't notice it. His eyes quickly became alert again as he looked at the frightened redhead in his grasp. His lips twisted into a cruel smile, so unlike the look of serenity of his face before, that Willow felt herself start to quiver from fear.

"You know, Willow, if your eyes got any bigger, I think you'd become a character in an anime," he chided her.

Willow felt herself start to get angry at his offhand comment, and all the anger that seemed to boil inside her before she left the office flooded back with a vengeance, quickly replacing the fear.

"Bite me," she practically snarled. At Angelus' surprised expression, she experienced a moment of victory. She was in control of her own life, her own fate.

"And I don't care about anything you say!" she snapped. "What I do care about is you leaving me alone! And I'm going to leave now, so take *that* Mr-bow-down-to-me-because-I'm-such-an-evil-vampire!" It was only after she said the words, shoved the slack-jawed vampire back, turned on her heel, and marched away, that Willow realized the complete ridiculousness of that statement. But she also realized that she had covered about five feet of distance without being yanked violently back. Mildly encouraged, Willow sped into a dash as she tried to put as much distance between her and Angelus as possible.

Shaking off his stupor, Angelus growled slightly as he saw the redhead taking off in the opposite direction. He smiled and silently told himself that he should have known better. Taking off after her, he covered the distance in a matter of seconds, reached out and grabbed the loose material on the back of her shirt, then pulled her completely off her feet.

Willow yelped in surprise and mild frustration. She should have known. "Let me go!" she barked.

"Yes ma'am," Angelus let go of her shirt and Willow promptly landed on the ground with a loud thud. "Ow," she groaned to herself as she stood up, rubbing her soon-to-be-bruised hip. "Gee, thanks," she muttered sarcastically to the vampire standing before her. Glancing up at him quickly, she noted that that was all he was doing. Standing. With an oddly blank expression on his face.

"Angelus?" she waved her hand in front of his face for a moment, wondering what in the world had come over both him and her. She should have started running again, but her curiosity got the better of her. She snickered slightly at the old saying 'curiosity killed the cat', then wondered briefly what the point of that saying was, since a cat supposedly has nine lives.

"Yoo-hoo? Anybody home?" she patted his cheek, noting the smooth skin underneath her fingers. When he still failed to respond, her eyes narrowed. Angelus was, after all, a good actor. And that 'yes ma'am' had sounded oddly mocking. "Okay then. Two can play at this game," she spoke a bit louder than necessary, "I'm leaving for real."

Willow began backing away, her body still turned towards Angelus, then turned a corner, putting her out of his sight. She waited for a moment, still wondering why she hadn't taken off, and listened for his footsteps following. She was only met by silence. After a few minutes had passed, she poked her head back around the corner and saw that Angelus was still standing in the exact same position, with the same look on his face.

Thoroughly puzzled, Willow came to stand directly in front of him again, and fell silent in thought. She could, the thought flashed briefly in her mind, just leave him out here to get turned to ashes when the sun rose. She squashed the thought, however, knowing that if she did that, that would kill Angel as well. She felt something itching in the back of her mind at the thought of Angel, something she felt she should remember, but she quickly put it aside.

She could also drag Angelus back to the office and tie him up until they figured out how to get Angel's soul back into place, but that, also, brought up a few problems--namely, how was she going to drag him? He was much too heavy for her to literally drag, and she didn't think she could psionically move him--her strength wasn't that well developed. And even if it was, that would certainly be a sight for any passers-by. Plus the risk of him coming out of whatever trance he was in and killing her and Doyle and Cordelia was too great.

A Trance!

That was it. That was what he was in. Willow knew it with a strange certainty, but had no idea how he gotten that way. The last thing she remembered was ordering him to let her go. And he did. Then he froze.

A slow suspicion crept its way into her mind as Willow turned the idea over in her mind, dissecting the possibilities and the ramifications. Was it possible, she finally mentally voiced the question, that she had some sort of control over Angelus? This wasn't the first time either. When he had kidnapped her, she had ordered him to let her go then, too. And he did. But that was the only other example she could think of. She was pretty sure that she had ordered him around, in one way or another, more times than that, but nothing had happened to him them. What made those two times so different?

Willow let out a growl of frustration at the number of odd experiences she seemed to be having this day. And she knew it was only going to get worse. "You stupid idiot!" she yelled, "you stupid, mean, evil, nasty...vampire!" she vented her rage on Angelus' still form, "Dammit! Don't just stand there!!!" Willow realized her mistake a fraction of a second too late, just as Angelus blinked.

"Uh-oh," she breathed aloud, backing away as Angelus came back to his senses. "Um, go away!" she tried meekly to bring back whatever command she had at her powers. Just as she had expected, though, it didn't work. She mentally cursed her ever coming to Los Angeles as she turned and, without thinking, fled into the night, leaving behind the confused vampire.

Angelus just blinked, wondering what the hell had come over him.

End Part 13

Angelus entered the old building wearily, his eyes just shaking off the haze of whatever state he had been in minutes before. The same image kept flashing before his eyes: red hair, glowing green eyes, a smooth, innocent face, power and beauty beyond his wildest imagination...

A growl erupted from the vampire's chest as his thoughts dwindled once again on the events that unfolded on the street. No one told him what to do--especially not some amateur witch. But, against all odds, Angelus couldn't help but feel perversely proud of the young redhead. She had, after all, managed to evade him more times than he could count, and had thrown quite a few wrenches in his carefully laid plans. She was completely unpredictable, and for that, Angelus adored chasing her--probably because he always knew where she was.

He smiled slightly to himself at the thought of it. The first time it had occurred, he had just assumed he had gotten lucky. But then it happened a second time, a third time, and so on, until he knew that it was more than that. Most likely it was a reverse effect of the bond that Willow had invoked on the both of them, and he couldn't be sure of the extent of it; but somehow, he always just *knew* where she was. He could feel it in his bones. Even if he closed his eyes and wandered out into the middle of nowhere, he was sure he'd be able to find her.

As aggravating as that had been originally, Angelus was coming to find that he rather enjoyed it. She had a sweet essence about her, a sort of innocence that never really dies, and he found that that essence now accompanied him no matter what. And, strangely, he didn't seem to mind. Besides, he didn't think he'd ever get tired of seeing the expression on the girl's face every time he managed to corner her. It was absolutely priceless, and Angelus smiled at the thought of it.

"What are you grinning at?" Jaufien asked irritably as he entered the room.

"Nothing," Angelus replied, his thoughts quickly leaving the elusive redhead. "What crawled into your blood?" Angelus asked, quickly gauging the mood of the elder vampire.

"A deadline. A time frame. All my plans going up in smoke!" Jaufien barked, "any other questions?"

"Just a comment. We've still got a month."

"And we have no sword."

"Or energy," Angelus muttered for good measure.

If looks could kill, Angelus would have been a pile of dust. Jaufien's jaw stiffened ever so slightly--the only indication that he was trying desperately to control his temper--and he spoke through clenched teeth, "*That* is not a problem--assuming you don't plan on letting the person go next time. What I need is to locate that forsaken sword!"

Angelus knew better than to provoke him further, and sighed, "No word, huh?"

"None. And relics don't just drop off the face of the planet, either."

"The Sword of Gwydeon," Angelus contemplated the name for a moment, wondering where he had heard of it, or, at least, who he had heard talk about it. He couldn't help but wonder how much faster this process might have gone with all the resources of the Watcher Library at their disposal. In truth, his souled alter ego had almost gotten used to the mountains of information that Rupert and Willow had been able to provide by skimming through an old book or clicking a machine. It was certainly preferable to beating someone senseless in order to get the same information from half a dozen sources over a period of days. Of course, if Angelus had to choose, he'd just beat the person. Research and fun in one fail swoop--an oxymoron that could only work for a vampire.

The thought of his souled days brought an itching to his brain, however, and Angelus struggled mentally to grasp exactly why. He realized, though, that it wasn't the mention of Angel, but rather the mention of Watchers--more specifically, Rupert.

Suddenly, Angelus knew exactly where he had heard of the sword.

A slow grin crept over his features, and a mischievous twinkle shone in his eyes.

"Don't you ever stop grinning?" Jaufien snapped.

"I've just found your sword," he retorted.

"What? Where is it?"

"A small town right here in good old California. Not too far from LA, actually."

"I want a name."

"The Hellmouth."

Jaufien was silent at this new piece of information, so Angelus continued, "Commonly known as Sunnydale."

"You've been there?" Jaufien asked cautiously.

"Where haven't I been?"

"I've heard of the place. I've also heard that a Slayer resides there. A good Slayer."

"Not as good as all that if I've lived there, and if I'm still alive."

"You're sure?"

"Would I lie?"

Jaufien quirked an eyebrow amusedly, giving Angelus a look that silently asked 'do you really want me to answer that?' Instead, he spoke, "Well, Slayers have never really been a problem for me before. I don't see why one should be so now. How do you feel about taking a trip?"

"You know me," Angelus shrugged his shoulders, "I love to travel." He hadn't contemplated going back to Sunnyhell, but with the sudden twist of events, he figured it would be loads of fun.

And Angelus never missed an opportunity to have fun.

***

Willow threw herself exhaustedly on the couch by the entrance to Angel Investigations. It felt as if thoughts were running through her brain a mile a minute at the same time as an empty void was consuming her. Her senses were on overload, and she didn't want to do anything except crawl into a hole for the next year. Or more.

"Willow?" Cordelia emerged from the back with Doyle in tow. Somehow, it didn't really surprise Willow to see them still there at this hour. Ever since events had conspired against them almost a week ago, the two of them practically lived in the office along with her. She suddenly didn't feel so alone.

"Yeah?"

"We were worried about you," Cordelia came to sit down next to her, "you just ran out of here, and Doyle couldn't find you and we thought that...well nevermind. What happened?"

Willow was shocked into silence for a moment. Cordelia Chase, Queen C, Bitch of the Year, was actually concerned about her. And she was showing it! Openly! In a friendly manner! Willow wondered for a moment what exactly had happened to the young woman in LA, or if she had always been a good person deep down inside, and if, in the resentment that had accumulated over twelve years, she had just chosen not to see it.

Willow knew with a sinking feeling that the latter was most likely the case, and her own character flaws seemed magnified once more. Firmly shaking of the self-pity that she knew was on the verge of consuming her again, Willow answered, "I ran into Angelus."

>From the pale faces of her friends, she knew that this was the option they had considered most likely. "I'm sorry," she spoke the words just as she wondered to herself about when, exactly, she had begun referring to these people as her friends.

"At least yer back in one piece," Doyle offered his usual dose of well-timed humor. Willow smiled.

"At least," she breathed.

"What happened out there?" Doyle asked, becoming serious for a moment, "you look like a wreck."

"That's an understatement," Cordelia huffed. Obviously the tender moment had passed.

Willow shot her a glare before speaking, "You remember how we were wondering what, exactly, the effects of the binding spell would be?"

"Yeah?" Doyle prodded.

"Well...I might have some idea now."

"You what? What happened?" Cordelia looked at her with renewed interest.

"Well, I sort of--"

Willow's half-hearted explanation was cut off when Doyle howled in sudden pain and grabbed his head.

"Oh my gosh, Doyle!" Cordelia was on her feet in a second and at his side in the next, offering herself as support so that he wouldn't collapse with the mental weight of the vision that was bombarding him.

"What's going on?" Willow whispered.

"Doyle's having a vision. Quick, get some water," Cordelia ordered her.

Willow nodded her head and ran to do as she was told, never imagining that precognition was so painful. When she got back, Doyle was seated on the couch she had occupied moments before, looking almost paler than Angel--which was a very hard thing to accomplish.

"What happened?" Willow asked, extending her hand and offering him the water. Doyle took it gratefully, and, after taking a rather large gulp, looked up at the two women.

He smiled weakly and joked, "If this is all it takes ta have beautiful women surround and dote on me, then the fates aren't as cruel as I thought."

"Doyle," Cordelia reprimanded him gently. Willow marveled.

"Right. The vision," Doyle took another sip of water, "ya couldn't have brought whiskey?" he directed the question at Willow.

"Doyle!" Cordelia snapped.

"Okay, okay," Doyle put the glass down and, by the look on his face, communicated that whatever it was was very very bad. "I saw Buffy and some other people I couldn't recognize--it was hard to get everything. They were fighting Angelus and Jaufien--and losing."

Willow felt a chill sweep over her as numbness grabbed at her constricted heart. "Oh no. We have to get back to Sunnydale!"

"Yer right," Doyle stood shakily, "I never wanted to go there meself, but it looks as if the powers that be have had other plans all along."

"Since when do they not?" Cordelia's voice was a mix of hostility, anger, and fear. "So, we taking Angel's car?"

End Part 13
 

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