The Next Connection

Author: Lysa

Parts: 16 - 20

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Part 16

 A hero, an unlikely hero. The sidekick, the seer, the friend. A warrior unaware of his own potential. A half-demon struggling with issues. A woman separated from the past, soon to harken future visions for the Vampire with a Soul, providing the next connection between them. A Champion upon his true path unfettered by the crystal’s influence as long as it remains intact.

“Angel!” Following behind him, Cordelia Chase let out a cry of frustration. Broody vamp couldn’t even think about his own business interests. Brood, brood, brood. Funk, funk, funk. “Just because you’re in a funky, broody mood doesn’t mean you can’t listen to my ideas to stir up a little action around here.”

There was only one kind of action that Angel wanted to discuss stirring up with Cordelia. Filming a commercial and calling himself the Dark Avenger was not it. Not by a long-shot. Next, she’d have him wearing a cape and tights. But Cordy kept at the idea until Angel opted for escape. Getting into the elevator, he closed the outer door before she could enter behind him.

Not to be ignored, Cordelia was already headed for the stairs when Doyle stopped her. “I don’t think Angel is gonna go for it, Cordy darlin’. Besides, advertising a superhero that can’t really go out into the daylight might raise vampire suspicions, not to mention our pesky lack of an investigator’s license.

“And who needs a license when we have no clients?”

“We’ll manage, princess,” Doyle knew Cordy always gave 110% and this was nothing different. “We always do.”

Suddenly, Cordelia had another brilliant idea. Grabbing him by the shirtfront she grinned conspiratorially, “You’re perfect.”

“For the Dark Avenger?”

Pfft! “No, no. Angel is all wrong for this commercial. Too broody. Too Braveheart. We need something that appeals to Joe-Couch Potato. Someone who’s— average, run of the mill, ordinary.”

Doyle sent her a look. “Gee, thanks. I appreciate the compliment.”

“Don’t be a dork!” Cordelia told him as she looked him up and down taking in the sight of his clothes, “Might not be so bad if you let me into your closet once in a while.”

“According to Buffy, the things you like to do in closets— well, that might be a workable deal.”

“You wish, sleezebag!” Laughing, Cordelia pulled Doyle back into the inner office where she had set up a video camera. “Come on— we need to work on your lines.”

“Hey! I thought that was a good one.”

“For the commercial, dork.”

Later, after Cordelia and Doyle both agreed that he would never make it as an actor, the idea for the commercial was discarded. While Cordelia attended to putting her things away, the seer decided to head down to Angel’s apartment. Hopefully, the vampire would not rip his head off for interrupting his bad mood. Upon finding Angel working out with the punching bag, furiously pounding it with his fists, Doyle figured he was at least trying to release some of the tension mounting from the last couple of days.

“Hey,” Doyle greeted him. “Is this a private catharsis or can anyone watch?”

Continuing to punch at the bag, Angel returned, “What do you want?”

“Well there’s a girl upstairs who’s not quite sad enough to cry in my arms, but keep up the dark cloud. I might just get lucky.”

Punching hard, the heavy bag swung widely. His tone edged on dangerous, “Be careful what you say, Doyle. When I’m like this, it’s sometimes hard to tell when you’re kidding. I just need some time— just need to stop thinking about her.”

“Believe me, I know.” Doyle understood. “Last time my ex came to town, I was a wreck. That might have had something to do her fiancé’s plan to eat my brain, but yeah— I get it. Amazing how just seeing them again can do that to you.”

Angel stepped back from the punching bag, turning slightly to face Doyle with a deep shrug of his muscled shoulders. “I’m not talking about Buffy. You don’t know. You don’t know what happened.”

Not about Buffy? Well that only left—, “Cordelia? What happened?”

“I went to the Oracles, Doyle,” he revealed. “They took it back. They took everything. I lost it all. Lost Cordy. Lost her and my humanity.”

“Whoa! Back up a second, man.” Doyle tried to take it in, but his head was swimming. “I think one of us has been drinking and I’m sad to say, it’s not me.”

“Just who are these Oracles?” Angel asked him. They didn’t exactly present a business card, although they were obviously aware of him and his. “Why didn’t you tell me about them before?”

Gasping, Doyle asked, “Who told you about the Oracles?”

Pointing at the seer brought another look of confusion. Angel told him, “The first time the Mohra demon attacked, it got away.”

“The first time?” That demon had jumped through the window only to be bashed across the head with Angel’s antique clock seconds later.

“Look, I tracked it, I killed it, some of its blood mixed with mine. It made me mortal. Made me human. That’s when you took me to see the Oracles to find out what it meant.”

“No, no, no. See, I'd remember a trip to the netherworld of eternal watching. I wouldn’t forget that— not something that just happens everyday.”

When Doyle got over the idea of Angel knowing about the Oracles, those higher beings who kept watch for the PTB and acted as conduits for his visions, he suddenly realized what Angel said about the demon blood. “You were human?”

Tossing a towel around his neck, Angel sat down in a chair. “The Oracles told me that I was released from my duty. After they let me go, I-I went to Cordelia.”

“Went to her?” Doyle sank onto the couch as the vampire’s meaning became clear. “You mean that you two were—?”

“Together,” Angel’s heart was in his eyes, miserable and lonely. “We were together and in love again. She was mine again— for a day.”

“What day was this? Where was I? Where did it go?”

Angel’s lips twisted with dark irony. “This isn’t another memory spell. The day never happened. They took it back, but made me remember it all. They wanted their Champion, Doyle, and were more than willing to do as I asked.”

The vampire managed to confuse him again. “You mean that *you* asked for this? That you had the one thing in your unnaturally long life that brings you joy— and you gave it up? You gave up Cordelia to be a vampire again?”

“Maybe I was wrong?”

With a sigh, Doyle knew that there was a reason. It had to be one helluva reason, or no power on earth or in the heavens above would be able to drag Angel out of Cordelia’s arms. “The Oracles— they said something, didn’t they. Opened their big mouths and predicted something bad to make you think you had no other choice in the matter.”

Angel fell silent.

“I think Cordy was right about you being the real deal in the hero department, Angel, Dark Avenger or not. See— I would have chosen the pleasures of the flesh over duty and honor any day of the week. I just don’t have that strength.”

“You never know your strength until you’re tested,” Angel countered.

Rolling his eyes, Doyle huffed. “Come on, you lived and loved and lost and fought and vanquished inside a day. I’m still trying to work up the courage to tell Cordy that I’m half demon.”

“Well, the Oracles did say something about soldiers of darkness ushering the End of Days kind of bad.”

“So this Mohra demon had something to do with it all?”

Angel gripped the ends of the towel as he told Doyle, “I feel something coming. I don’t know what, but I feel that we’re a part of it.”

Not pleased at the idea, the seer commented, “Can’t they give that fight to someone else? It seems unfair. You gotta save all the helpless types around here and now you have to fight the apocalypse as well?”

Rising from the chair, Angel recognized the fact that Doyle had let him vent. It didn’t make his feelings any better or the loss of Cordelia any less acute, but he accepted the reasons he chose this path.

“It’s all the same thing,” Angel looked down at Doyle. “Fight the good fight— whichever way you can.

“Tell you what,” Doyle offered. “You fight— and I’ll keep score.”

Angel left to shower, so Doyle slowly made his way back upstairs. No wonder Angel was broody. He had a right to be after what happened. If Doyle hadn’t gone down there, the vampire would have kept it all to himself. Just like the deal with the memory spell. Doyle had to weasel it out of him.

Finding Cordelia sitting on the steps near the front lobby, Doyle noticed that she was lost in thought. Looking a little broody herself and that was not something to be associated with Cordelia Chase. She perked up at the sight of him, sending him a bright grin that caused his heart to flip-flop.

“I’m in the mood for food,” she grabbed for his hand as he helped her to her feet. “Deli sandwiches?”

Groaning, Doyle reminded her, “I’ve sworn off deli. Can’t go back there again after your little romp with me as your whipping boy!”

“Aw! Poor poodle!” Cordy grinned laughing at him. “That was all your own fault, Doyle. You wanted me to dress up in that leather outfit when I lost our bet. Can’t blame me if I gave you what you wanted.”

“I didn’t want public humiliation at the deli counter,” Doyle groaned. “I just wanted to leer at your— well, I just wanted to leer, that’s all.”

“Serves you right.” She stuck out her tongue.

Doyle realized what Cordy was doing. She was throwing him off the scent. Trying to make him think she was carefree and happy. He’d seen her face when he came upstairs, so he knew better.

“Look, Cordy,” he cleared his throat. Doyle sat down upon the top step and pulled her down again to sit beside him. “Angel isn’t mad at you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Cordelia flashed him a little look of uncertainty.

“It’s just that—,” Doyle struggled to find the words to tell her this. He knew that Angel would say nothing. So maybe he should do it. Why should Cordy be the only one who did not know? “—Angel is hurting.”

“What?! What happened?” Cordelia broke in before he had a chance to clarify his words.

Doyle explained that the Mohra demon made Angel human— for a day. Then the Powers that Be stepped in and wiped the day out in order to make him a vampire again. They did not want a human Champion. They needed their Vampire with a Soul. Everything in that twenty-four hour period was wiped away as if it never happened.

“Angel was human?” Cordelia’s voice was barely above a whisper.

He could see it in her eyes— the same wonder that must have been there on that lost day. That, and something else. Longing. Doyle had to admit it, though it made his heart break every time he acknowledged that Cordelia Chase could never be his.

“Buffy arrived,” Doyle started to explain again. “She didn’t leave. She—”

Cordelia saw where this was going. Doyle was trying to break it to her gently, but it was all too obvious what he was going to say. “Buffy stayed. She stayed with Angel. They got groiny again, didn’t they?”

“No!” That wasn’t what he wanted her to think. Not at all. Now she looked miserable. “It didn’t happen that way. Angel didn’t— look, Cordy, Buffy stayed to help kill the Mohra demon after it escaped.”

“Yeah. Like that fight took more than two seconds. What were they doing the rest of the time?”

Cordy was getting this all mixed up and making Doyle more confused in the process. “It wasn’t like that, princess. I promise you. Buffy left after the demon was killed— though that was temporary, both the leaving and the killing.”

Then Doyle took a deep breath, “Angel spent the day— with you.”
“What happened, Doyle?” She was a picture of mixed emotions. “What happened to Buffy?”

“Probably the same kind of chat that *we* remember you two having,” guessed the seer. “Angel didn’t give me all the details.”

A quirk of a smile appeared at the corners of her mouth. “Angel was human. Wow! Can you imagine?”

Doyle nodded. “A little too well.”

“And he spent his day— with me?” A spark of glee lit her eyes. “Not Buffy? Huh! Angel a human. What would I do with a human Angel for a day?”

Did she really expect him to answer that question? Surely she had an idea. What did she want— proof in the form of high-quality photo-booth prints? Come to think of it, he still had those.

“Food, he’d want food,” she guessed. “No more yucky blood stuff. And time in the sun— that’s gotta be a big priority. Hey! He likes the beach.”

Cordelia was either a very good guesser, Doyle realized, or there was something strange about the way she sensed things. It was either the magick surrounding the link with Angel or a mild precursor to a supracognitive state. Like people who frequently experienced déjà vu or sensed trouble coming without knowing why.

“I’m certain it was fun,” Doyle told her. “Angel seems pretty down about the fact that it’s over.”

“Well, duh! Not human anymore. Back to being fangy and cursed.” Cordelia couldn’t believe that Doyle would think it was anymore complicated than that.

As for the seer, he was a little surprised that she hadn’t gotten the hint. Maybe he should have come right out and said that Angel wasn’t getting groiny with Buffy because he was getting it on with her. No, no, no. Just couldn’t do that. Didn’t want to think about it too much. His imagination was already filling his head with naked images.

Doyle asked her, “Do you ever think that *we* could have had a fun day like that?”

“Fun in the sun?” Cordy grinned, then wondered why he was talking in the past tense. “I think we can do that anytime. Picnic on the beach. Sounds fun.”

Then she tagged on, “Are you asking me out?”

“No.” Doyle was quick to respond.

“Really?” She looked hurt. “Why not?”

“Angel will kill me.”

“Don’t be a doofus, Doyle,” she waved the thought aside. “You’re our friend. Angel only threatens strangers— like Pierce. That bad vamp! Practically interrogated him and chased him away. Just as well Pierce turned out to be such a cowardly wimp.”

Cordy seemed to be missing the point.

“Angel just likes to play big brother,” Cordelia added.

A soft snort followed as Doyle tried to keep from laughing aloud.

“But Angel doesn’t own me,” Cordy pointed a finger at her breastbone. “I can have fun with my friends. I don’t have to ask *him* for permission. Besides, he had his day in the sun. Maybe its your turn.”

Clueless Cordy. Doyle wished that it could be true, but he knew too much to take her up on that offer. Looking up from the floor where his attention had been focused on a small nick in the tile, Doyle found Cordelia’s face only inches from his own.

When Cordelia finished her diatribe, she reminded herself that whatever happened when Angel was a human— it did not matter. Angel was once again a vampire, albeit with a soul. That put them back on their same platonic protocol. Boss— secretary. Vampire— human. Got it? Got it.

Maybe Doyle had the right idea about spending time together. He was a human guy, even if he was her friend and not rich or outrageously hot. He was a cutie and sweet and kind. That stood for something. Proving it to herself that this might be a possibility, Cordelia leaned in close and watched as Doyle lifted his head. He looked surprised when Cordelia moved in to kiss him.

More than surprised. Mortified. Utterly terrified to death, Doyle noticed Angel walk into the outer office just as Cordy’s soft lips touched the edge of his mouth.

No, no, no, no, no!

Then a miracle happened. Doyle received a vision that sent him writhing across the floor. It was one of those powerful, fully emotional and sensation-packed visions that indicated really, really bad things were about to happen.

“Doyle!” Both Cordy and Angel were at his side. Normally, he could handle the visions with little more than a headache afterward, but this one racked his entire body with pain.

Forgetting about the almost-kiss, Doyle’s two friends were attentive and concerned, but anxiously awaiting details about his vision. Finally, Doyle recovered enough to tell them, “Th-there’s a little demon girl. Tonight— it happens tonight. She’s running down the street. Scared. She’s so scared, Angel! There are soldiers. Demon soldiers. An army of them.”

Angel made the connection to the Oracles’ prediction. As soon as Doyle could get up, they moved him to the couch where he sat looking suddenly exhausted. The vampire told him to stay put while he started getting some things together.

“We need to find the victims,” Angel looked determined. “Then I’m going to stop this before it gets started.

They found the demons— actually half human demons— huddled in a mass in a brick tenement house. It looked like an entire clan from elders to infants.

“Pretty low rent,” Doyle had noted the place was otherwise deserted and really run down, “even by demon standards.”

Explaining their presence, one of the elders agreed to speak to them. “We gave all our money of a man who promised to get us safe passage on a ship.”

“Going where?” Doyle wanted to know. He felt a strange and sudden kinship with this group.

“Briole,” the elder answered. “It’s a small island off the coast of Equador. Others of our kind have found sanctuary there.”

Angel asked, “Sanctuary from whom?”

“The Scourge.” It was Doyle who answered. “They are Death itself.”

Was that information from his vision, or just knowledge off the street? Then Doyle left Angel to finish his conversation with the elder alone while he found himself chatting with one of the other demons. That was when the shocker came. The fact that he felt some connection with this group made sense. They were all half human. Many of these people were Bracken demons— or part Bracken demons— just like Doyle.

As Cordy might say— that gave him the wiggins.

“I’m not asking you to fight,” argued the other man, Lucas. “Just help us hide until we get out of town.”

“You got the wrong guy, pal.” Doyle hedged back toward the door. “You want to set up a little off-track betting then I’ve got the know-how. But demon-hiding? It’s not my line.”

Lucus argued, “You’re one of us.”

“No, I’m not,” countered Doyle. “I was raised human. I’m not lookin’ to explore me roots.”

Angry now, Lucas told the seer, “If you don’t believe that we share a common family, believe that we share a common enemy. The Scourge is an army of pureblood demons. They have a big hate-on for us mixed heritage types.”

“So I’ve heard.” The rumors were apparently not just demon campfire tales.

Angel met up with Doyle after the elder told him the full story. They compared notes. “You can’t fight the Scourge, Angel. These people are going to need more than their mythic promised one.”

“It won’t come to that,” the vampire said. “We’re going to get them out of here.”

An eighteen-wheeler pulled up outside the tenement, the passenger door swinging open to reveal Cordelia. She instructed the driver to stay put. Climbing down to the ground, she brushed off her hands and looked with nose-scrunching reaction to the sight of the building. This place made her original L.A. apartment look like paradise.

Cautiously moving down the gloomy corridor, Cordelia called out for her friends. Angel had contacted her using Doyle’s cell phone and given instructions on where to arrange pickup of the truck. He had been brief and to the point with directions, not giving her any of the details she wanted— just because she was curious as to why Angel needed a Mack truck.

“Angel? Doyle? Hello?”

A gasp escaped her throat as several demons stepped into the hall. Reaching into the pocket of her pants, Cordy pulled out a little sprayer device. Holding it up to their faces, she provided a stern warning.

“While this may look like— a popular brand of breath freshener,” Cordy realized that’s exactly what it looked like. Just what it was. “It’s really a cunningly disguised demon repellent.”

She sprayed the air in front of them. Spritz! Spritz!

The demon sniffed, “Mmm! Wintergreen.”

Pushing his way through the demons, Doyle appeared. “Cordy, it’s okay. We’re here to help them.”

Recapping her spray, Cordy put it away. Placing a bright grin on her face, she waved at them. “Oh. Oh, hi!”

In an aside to Doyle, she asked, “Where’s Angel?”

“He’s trying to secure documents to get them out of the country. Did you get the truck?”

“Yeah. It’s out front.” Then she glanced back at the onlookers. “Doyle— uh, you noticed these guys were demons, right?”

Feeling the weight of their stares on his shoulders, Doyle told her, “Yeah. Doesn’t make them bad people.”

Sending the demons another charming smile, her head tilted, Cordelia asked, “Excuse us a sec?”

Pulling Doyle into a corner, she had to get to the bottom of this. “Mission statement check: aren’t we supposed to be battling the forces of darkness?”

“They’re not forces of darkness,” Doyle defended. They were just like him. “They’re half human and they’re in trouble. Now, we don’t have a lot of time. Angel wants you to go down to the LA harbor, pier 12, slip 4, the Quintessa. Use Angel’s name. He knows the captain.”

“So we’re booking them on a cruise?”

“Basically.”

Cordelia didn’t know whether to be more upset about the fact that their job description just expanded to include demon-saving or the fact that this freighter captain apparently owed Angel money which they had not collected.

“Bad things are coming aren’t they?” She asked Doyle.

“Very bad things.”

“I’m on it.”

Cordelia and Doyle organized the transport of the demons to the harbor once the ship was ready to take them. Then Doyle met Angel who had decided to ensure that the Scourge did not interfere by keeping an eye on them— as one of them. Proving himself worthy of their cause by ‘killing’ the half-human Doyle in front of them, Angel was accepted into their group.

When it was safe to move, Doyle headed back to the pier, only to learn that one of the teenage demons had taken off. He’d had some interaction with the boy and felt he could convince him to come back. One of the adult demons approached Cordelia who just finished issuing orders to the freighter captain about finding blankets.

“I can’t thank you and your friends enough,” the demon gave her a warm and grateful smile. “I’m sure Reiff is in safe hands.”

“Doyle will get him here,” she sounded confident even while tampering down the gut-wrenching nervousness of gazing into his demon face. This was a *good* demon, she reminded herself. Doyle said so. “He’s a good guy.”

“Yeah, he is a good one. He understands our suffering.”

“We both do.” Cordy nodded, trying to get over that lump of fear. She did feel sorry for them.

The demon quickly offered an apology. “I am sorry. I did not mean to imply that you did not understand us. It’s just more familiar to Doyle. He has to live with a certain amount of persecution. You always do when you’re half demon.”

Cordelia felt a little light headed all of a sudden. Did she really hear that? “Demon?”

There was no further time for discussion, for the Scourge was suddenly at the harbor, Angel making his way forward as fast as he could. He knew what the demons were planning and it was not good. They had a machine, a beacon of light that destroyed anyone within its reach who possessed human blood. One it reached critical mass, that sphere of influence would reach a quarter mile in radius.

“Doyle, you’re alive!” Cordelia’s voice carried across the distance between them.

He slowed down as he reached her. There was a strange tone to her words. “You don’t sound happy about it.”

“We were worried.”

“Now that I found Reiff, the ship can take off. Everything is going to be okay,” Doyle assured her.

Reaching up with a suddenness that allowed no escape, Cordelia slapped him.

“What was that for?” Doyle demanded.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were half demon?”

Holding a hand to his stinging cheek, Doyle told her, “Because I was afraid you might react badly— like hitting me.”

“That was for lying to me, doofus!” Cordelia couldn’t believe that he never told her. “I work for a vampire! Hello!”

“But you’re scared of demons, Cordy. You said so! It shows in your eyes.”

Cordelia felt silent for a second. “I-I can’t deny that. Maybe it is a little superficial, but that doesn’t stop me from having *you* as my friend.”

Angel appeared, issuing orders to the captain to shove off. The Scourge were here and already fighting. Doyle ran up to help, but the vampire told him. “Get below. Lock down the doors.”

“What?”

“Move! Now! Stay with the others.”

Angel moved with strength, swiftness and muscular grace, fighting his way through the pureblood Lister demons attacking the ship. It was too late. Already, it was too late. They had locked the cargo doors from the outside and were lowering their destructive beacon into the hold from above.

“It’s going to detonate,” Angel called out. “Get out! Everybody out!”

But there was nowhere to go. Angel struggled with the demon commander trying to choke him. “Welcome to a cleaner world, vampire. Soon only the pure bloods will be left standing.”

“Actually, pure boy,” Angel quipped as he broke free from the demon’s grip. “You’ll be on your ass.”

With a burst of speed and power, Angel grabbed him by the head and broke his neck. The demon fell down dead.

Doyle and Cordelia climbed up a ladder to Angel’s level meeting him at the center of the platform. It was level with the beacon which now began to glow with white light. “What does that thing do?” Doyle asked getting worried. Even if they stopped the demons, how did they stop it?

“Its light kills anything with human blood,” Angel said looking at Doyle and then letting his gaze linger on Cordelia.

“Well its getting brighter,” Doyle pointed out. “It’s fully armed, isn’t it?”

“Almost,” Angel figured based upon what he saw at the demon base camp. “I figure if I pull the cable, it might shut off.”

Doyle looked puzzled. “How’re you gonna do that without touching the light?”

Stepping forward past Doyle, Cordelia nudged against his shoulder while looking at the vampire with a frightened expression. “Angel, that’s suicide.”

“There’s got to be another way,” Doyle begged for a miracle.

Angel saw the tears gathering on Cordelia’s cheek. Reaching out, he brushed them away with his thumb. “It’s all right.”

“No!” Flinging herself into Angel’s arms, Cordelia cried out against it. This plan sucked!

Doyle watched as Angel pulled her close for what would obviously be the last time he held his mate in his arms. Even he felt his eyes moisten as the vampire took her face in his hands, staring into her eyes with love and regret. Then he was kissing her and Doyle got the up-close and personal version of their kiss from the beach, albeit very brief this time.

“Please, Angel!” Cordelia begged him as she pulled away. “Please don’t do this.”

“I have to, baby,” he looked determined. Then, still touching her chin, he told her, “There is something that belongs to you in my desk drawer. Take it— and remember.”

Cordy held onto the railing, trying to prevent herself from sinking to the grated platform. As Doyle watched, realizing that the Powers that Be had done everything to get Angel to this moment and fight their battle for them— but were going to let him die in the process. And what of Cordelia? What of the wrong that had been done to her— mostly by Angel himself in spite of the love that connected them? She would never hear the words from his lips telling her the truth, Doyle realizes, just the cryptic message he’d just given.

In an instant, Doyle knew what had to be done. The vampire had been put in his charge by the Powers that Be. Angel and Cordelia were his friends. He loved them both and would not let them suffer through a death without the other.

“Angel,” he caught the vampire’s attention. “So this is the good fight, huh? What was that you said— you never know until you’re tested?”

The vampire gave him a puzzled look, and then moved closer to say their last goodbyes when out of the blue, Doyle’s fist connected with his jaw. Placing his full demon strength behind him, the seer knocked Angel over the railing and down into the cargo hold below.

Cordy leaned over, calling out to Angel who was now tangled in a mass of cargo nets. She looked to Doyle then, still in shock and wondering what he was planning. Then her friend leaned in close telling her with a twisted smile, “There’s no time to ask his permission.”

Doyle pressed a kiss upon Cordelia’s startled lips, soft and then firm, expressing the love he always had for his special girl. As they parted, Cordy drew a gasping breath as a glow passed between their open mouths.

Then morphing into his demon visage, Doyle stepped back. “Looks like we’ll never know if this is a face you could get used to. Not all of us demons are bad, Cordy. Some of us even love you.”

Breaking free of the cargo nets, Angel was on his feet and racing toward the ladder. He was calling out his friend’s name as he ran, seeing him at the edge of the platform facing the beacon. “Doyle. Doyle. Doyle, wait! Doyle. No!”

The demons and crew watched spellbound at the scene. Their fate, their very lives hung in the balance. Doyle focused on the beacon. Checking the distance. Looking for a place to land. Noting the position of the cable he would have to pull before the energy started to eat away at his flesh.

With no further goodbyes and no regrets, Doyle leapt into the light.

Part 17

 There was nothing physical left to mourn. Doyle was gone, his heroism resulting in the ultimate sacrifice. Together, Angel and Cordy watched the video of Doyle attempting to act for the commercial she wanted to film. He was terrible, but they watched the thing so many times they lost count. Just to see him again, to hear his voice.

Even if it was painful to hear him say time and again, “Is that it? Am I done?”

Doyle’s friends knew how they wanted to answer— with a resounding, “NO.”

Cordy sat at Angel’s feet, her head resting on his knee and her arm curled around his leg. His hand was in her hair, stroking softly and trying to give her a little comfort. Angel’s pant leg was moist from her pooling tears. The soft sniffles were turning into sobs again.

When Cordelia suggested this activity, Angel had hoped the video would provide some catharsis, but it seemed only to make things worse. Taking the remote, Angel turned off the television and VCR in mid-commercial. Cordy’s head darted up in protest as she let out a wail. “No! Bring him back. Don’t turn it off, Angel. Just one more time.”

“You’ve had enough,” he told her firmly. “We both have.”

Rising onto her knees, Cordy tried to reach over for the remote. He held it away. She scooted over closer. He held it higher. Letting out an angry roar, Cordelia crawled up onto his lap and grabbed his wrist. Angel let her have the remote, but now he had her in his arms.

Palming her face, he brought her around to meet his gaze. “This is hard on both of us, Cordy. Don’t make it worse.”

“It can’t get any worse! Doyle is dead!”

“Shh!” Angel ran a hand along her back with long strokes, simply trying to sooth away the tension there. Slowly relaxing, the knees on either side of him flexed deeper as she lowered herself fully onto his lap. Her bottom settling low on his thighs, closer to his knees.

Cordelia still held the remote with one hand, but the other held on to a handful of Angel’s shirt. “Why did this happen? Why?”

“I wasn’t fast enough”, Angel blamed himself for it all. “I should have seen Doyle’s punch coming. Then I got tangled up in that blasted cargo net. Wasted precious seconds trying to get loose. Then it was too late.”

“It wasn’t *your* fault!” Cordelia was quick to point out.

“The mission was mine, Cordy. Not Doyle’s. If anyone was supposed to die in that fight, it should have been me.” It sounded like the vampire actually believed that. “The Oracles promised me you would all be safe.”

“The Oracles— the ones who took away your happy fun day?” Cordelia wasn’t certain of all of the details Doyle mentioned. In fact she did not recall Doyle giving her any. “What do those two have to do with this?”

Angel was startled by the ‘happy fun day’ comment. Obviously, Doyle had been talking, but what the hell kind of picture had he painted for Cordy that would give her the idea the day could be described that way? Happy fun day? It had been joyous, sexy, and blissful. Okay, so maybe the happy fun day thing worked, too.

That day was just one more thing he had lost recently besides Doyle’s camaraderie not to mention his unique abilities. If it hadn’t been for Doyle acting as his seer, Cordelia might never have reentered his life. Then again, the Oracles were tangled up in Doyle’s visions. So he supposed he had them to thank for Cordy as well.

That bites it! “The Oracles work for the Powers that Be. Forces of Order. The good guys, supposedly. They’re blasted interfering know-it-alls who keep fucking up our lives.”

The angry retort caused Cordelia to jerk in surprise, sending the remote tumbling to the ground. Angel grasped her hips tightly, pulling her closer as she nearly lost her balance.

“Sorry,” he apologized doing his best to rein that anger in.

“Don’t bottle it up,” Cordelia’s palms pressed against his shoulders, shaking him slightly. “That’s what you’re good at— suppressing your feelings until they get you broody. Let it out, Angel.”

“Not a good idea,” his voice was edged in his pain.

She was tired of this feeling that he was hiding something. Just like Doyle hiding the fact that he was half demon. Poking at his chest with her index finger, Cordelia pressured him for a response. “Talk to me. Say what’s on you mind.”

Now he did not even give her a verbal answer, pressing his mouth closed as if he was a three-year old trying to hold a confession from his mother. Then he finally ground out a response when it appeared that she wasn’t going to let up until he opened up.

“Don’t push me,” Angel warned.

Poking again, she told him, “Just emote— like they told us in drama class. Get it all out there.”

“Emote?” Angel thought she was either insane or didn’t realize what she was doing.

Cordelia smacked his chest, and then moved to get off of his lap, but the hands on her hips kept her in place. Already experiencing a loss of emotional control, Angel realized that Cordy was summoning up something even more intense.

“Stay put,” Angel commanded as his fingers curled into her bottom.

Angry that he wouldn’t share his feelings, she screamed at him, “Let go of me!”

Her eyes were locked fiercely upon his. Then he advised her, “Listen to me when I tell you not to push me too far. I’m a vampire, not some simpering idiot like some of the men you’ve been dating.”

Was this jealousy in his voice? Cordelia quirked an eyebrow as she commented. “Man. Not men. Pierce *was* an idiot, but there was only one of him.”

“Forget that bastard! I’m not talking about him. I’m talking about us,” Angel growled. “I can’t have you pretending I’m human, Cordelia. You can’t do that. I have instincts you don’t understand and opening up to my emotions, well— things could get out of hand. I don’t want you hurt.”

“So— you’re a vampire.” Cordelia blinked, “This is supposed to be news? I’ve known that like forever. I don’t pretend you’re human.”

Angel flashed a look of doubt. “Are you saying it doesn’t matter?”

Oh. He meant the Vampire— Human part of their pact. “Why would I start treating you different now?”

“Because now I can’t seem to keep my hands off you!”

“Oh.” Cordelia recognized the fact that she was still in his lap.

He confessed, “It was easier when you didn’t want me.”

A puzzled look followed. When was that? “When was that again?”

“When you found out I was a vampire.” Angel reminded.

Okay, Cordelia decided. As long as she had him talking, she would continue on with this little confession spree. “I-I do want you, Angel. I can’t deny I wish you were human. It would simplify things.”

“Yes,” Angel knew that it had. When he went to her at the park in Santa Monica, Cordy had accepted him into her arms without hesitation. Had he still been a vampire and done the same, Angel doubted a similar outcome.

“What happened on your missing day?”

The direct question could not be avoided— but he could try to ignore it, he decided.

Persistent Cordelia asked another. “Doyle said that you spent the day with me. Is that right?”
“Yes.”

Cordy’s hands were resting on either side of his chest as she squirmed slightly on his lap. The idea that a human Angel chose to spend that day with her seemed too much like one of her many fantasies about him.

“Did we spend time in the sun?” She asked him, remembering what information she had squeezed out of Doyle. “At the beach, maybe?”

The memories made his eyes dark as Cordelia watched for his answer. Finally, he spoke, “Yes, at the beach. We— talked a lot. Watched the sunset.”

“Do you miss the sun, Angel?”

I miss you more, he thought. “Yes.”

“What else happened that day?” Cordelia sensed there was more. Getting information from the stoic vampire was like wringing blood out of a stone.

Angel shook his head, closing his eyes at the tidal wave of memories. He did not want to forget them, just suppress them when Cordelia was around. One of her hands crept up to his neck, her fingers cupping him there, forcing him to look at her.

“Did we— do anything else together?” There was a catch in her voice.

“We made love, Cordy,” Angel told her. “That’s what you want to know, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Cordelia felt herself trembling at the thought and the mild arousal she felt turned to shocking need.

The reaction wasn’t lost on Angel who scented that unique essence of cinnamon and apples across her skin, saw the way her nipples peaked hard against her thin sweater and how her eyes dilated as they met his gaze. Was it a reaction to him or the thought of him being human? Maybe it was time to find out.

Angel’s hands slid up to her shoulders where he hauled her up against his chest. Cordy let out a little cry of surprise, “Oh!”

“Yes, Cordy. Oh, indeed. Can you feel what you do to me?” Moving one hand back down to her hips, Angel pressed her bottom downward until her crotch met the hardness of his groin.

Feel it? Couldn’t miss it. Subconsciously she rotated her hips to get just the right angle. Then let out a little moan of need. “A-Angel.”

“That’s it, baby.” Angel held her tight as he lifted himself a fraction higher. “Now, give me your mouth. Kiss me.”

Moaning louder now, Cordelia reacted on automatic seemingly no longer in control of her own actions. Just listening to him, wanting him. Wondering what they had done on the day he spent as a human, the day that did not really exist. Remembering their kiss of goodbye when she thought he would die, when she realized that she didn’t think she could live without him. Realized— that she thought she loved him.

Wrapping one arm around his neck, the other clutched somewhere along his hard chest Cordy opened her mouth to his. Angel rocked her body against the rigid erection in his pants and felt the softness of he breasts crushing into his chest.

It was a wet kiss, mixed with tears. The taste reminded them both what led them here. Mourning Doyle. It was enough to shock them apart for a second, just long enough to elicit fresh droplets of remorse, but there was an urgency now that could not be ignored.

Angel dragged his mouth across her cheek licking at the saltiness there. Taking away the evidence of her pain and sorrow, he crept back into the hollow of her mouth mimicking movements from below. And Cordy held on as tight as she could pressing herself against him, feeling, just feeling this thing between them that wasn’t entirely full of the pain and aguish of their mutual loss.

Through the barrier of their clothes, they felt their arousal peak. Growing frantic, wanting more. Then Cordelia felt a pinprick against her tongue as it rasped against the sharp edge of a fang. Breaking away from his kiss, she realized that Angel was now in game face, staring down at her with his amber eyes. Their hips stilled in mid-motion before setting back down to the couch.

“Moment of truth, Cordy,” the vampire stared hard. “Is this what you want?”

Collapsing against him so that her head was tucked into the crook of his neck, Cordelia whispered, “No, Angel. Not like this. This isn’t about us. It’s about the people we were on your lost day. It’s about Doyle and us trying to forget what happened tonight.”

Angel slipped back to his human face though she could not see it. He continued to rub softly along her back, providing a soothing rhythm that calmed them both. Then he felt the moisture of tears on his neck and the soft sniffle that accompanied them. “Shh! It’s gonna be okay. We’ll get through this, baby.”

“It’s just that— I just feel so guilty about Doyle,” she admitted. “So guilty.”

“Why?”

“B-because Doyle is— was my friend and I loved him, but I think he loved me, Angel. I mean really loved me.”

“Yeah.” Angel wouldn’t deny it.

Cordelia kept holding tight and talking into his throat unable to look at him. “I-I cried when it happened. I cried because he was dead, but there was— the other thing.”

“Other thing?”

“I was *relieved*, Angel. I was just relived that it wasn’t you,” she sobbed loudly as she held onto him for dear life.

Angel’s arms were around her. It was a good thing that her face was hidden, because he figured if he looked into he eyes he’d be kissing her again. And kissing led to other things which included comfort sex. Angel figured they’d gotten close enough to that without taking off a single shred of clothes.

The brilliant words that would sooth her nerves and quell her fears did not come. So Angel simply held her until her racking sobs turned to sniffles and then to the softer sound of her breathing. Exhausted with grief, Cordelia soon fell asleep in his arms.

Carrying her into the bedroom, he put her down on the top of the coverlet. Then deciding that her clothing was restrictive and that she’d be uncomfortable that way, he set about methodically removing her clothes. Gently, while trying to maintain his composure, Angel removed her shoes and socks, placing them carefully together next to the bed. Using all his skill at undressing women, in order not to wake her, Angel took of her pants and sweater, leaving her only in her matching green silk panties and bra. Angel folded the clothes, placing them on a nearby chair.

Stirring slightly when the air brushed across her skin, Cordelia rolled into the spot that Angel prepared for her— on her usual side of the bed. He stood staring at her for long minutes, until her eyes flickered open to see him there.

“Angel?” Her sleepy voice was uncertain that he was real.

“Sleep tight, Cordy.”

“Don’t go.” Reaching out her hand, she pleaded softly for him to stay. “Just hold me. Hold me in your arms tonight.”

Cordelia was asleep again before Angel could reply, her arm now dangling off the bed. He tucked it in, planning to head back to the sofa. Then a moan akin to fear sounded from the bed. Turning back, he decided to stay, promising himself that this was just to keep her content and to be close if she awakened in the night.

Something hard and cool was pressing her down into the bed, Cordelia realized as her eyes fluttered open the next morning. The comforter was nowhere in sight. An arm— Angel’s naked arm to be more precise since it was most definitely attached to his hard naked Angel body. Sometime in his sleep, the vampire had flung it across her waist.

But it wasn’t his arm that really grabbed her attention. Grabbed. Hmm. That was a fitting word, Cordelia thought as she suppressed an embarrassed giggle. The strap of her silky emerald bra had fallen down— or been pulled down during the night taking the thin cup with it. Angel’s fingers were contentedly curled around the bare curve of her right breast.

Oh, God! How was she going to get out of this one?

Angel was snuggled against her as if he had searched for her warmth across the bed and kept he close all night. She vaguely recalled asking him to stay with her— just so she could sleep. Never realized that her instructions had included stripping her down to her bra and panties. Or groping her boob, for that matter.

Grabbing at her bra strap, Cordy yanked it up, forcing Angel to move his hand. It settled on her lower abdomen, just below her navel. His fingers were so close to the edge of her panties and the thought that he might accidentally slip his fingers underneath the edge gave her a little shiver.

As much as Cordelia would have enjoyed watching Angel sleep or even staying long enough to take a good look at what he wasn’t wearing under the covers— she could not. She had an audition this morning. Why today? Doyle would be the first to tell her to get on with her life, so Cordy figured that she would go for his sake.

The last thing Cordelia did on the way out of the office was eject the VCR tape of Doyle’s commercial and put in into her purse. It seemed apparent that Angel would never watch the tape again. Whenever she got lonely for Doyle, Cordy figured she could watch it with Dennis.

The audition did not go well; even Cordelia realized that as she went through the motions before the panel. Normally she charmed everyone with her personality and gorgeous smile, but not today. She kept crying through her lines.

The panel offered her another chance, but that was when it happened— when Doyle’s little parting gift kicked in bringing with it pain and disorientation. Needless to say, Cordy did not win the Stain-Be-Gone commercial. She left with a consolation migraine instead and headed straight over to Angel Investigations.

Angel was standing in the outer office when Cordelia arrived. She looked gorgeous with her long chestnut hair flowing over that green top that left her shoulders exposed. He just loved catching little glimpses of skin. Tossing her things directly only the floor, Cordy stalked toward him with this strangely determined look in her eyes.

Before the vampire could ask what was up, Cordelia was inches away and grabbing him into her arms. Throwing one arm over his shoulder, she lifted her mouth to his initiating a kiss that seemed more about contact than comfort, more about persistence than passion. Taking over the kiss, Angel wrapped his arms around her moving one down to place a hand over the tattooed area of her lower spine and tucking his fingers just inside her pants to cover it.

“That was a delicious surprise,” Angel commented as they emerged from the kiss.

Cordelia looked up at him with a discerning eye. “Did you feel anything? Cause I didn’t feel anything.”

“What?! You didn’t?” Angel knew that Cordelia liked his kisses. She *loved* his kisses. There was a time that she couldn’t get enough of them.

“Urgh!” Cordy sounded out her frustration. “That means I still have it! Damn, I can’t believe he did this to me!”

“Who did what?”

Cordelia explained that it was Doyle’s fault. “He kissed me just before he leapt off the platform. I thought that meant something, and instead— he used that moment to pass it on to me!”

As Angel wiped his lips, looking at the slight residue of her lipstick, Cordelia tagged on, “Why couldn’t it have been mono or herpes?”

“C-Cordelia,” he still didn’t understand the problem. What had Doyle done to her?

“I didn’t ask for this responsibility,” Cordy pointed out. “Unlike some people who shall remain lifeless! I don’t have anything to atone for. If they know what’s good for me, the Oracles and the PTB better just stay out of my head.”

“The Powers-that-Be,” Angel realized that somehow Doyle’s status as their seer had been passed on to Cordelia Chase. “You had a vision.”

Cordy told him about the fact that her audition had been ruined by the way she reacted to the vision. And the pain. Let’s not forget that drool-producing incident. When Angel felt that it was safe to inquire, he asked about the vision.

“It was— a thing.”

“A thing?”

“An ugly gray, blobby thing.” Cordelia waved it off as insignificant in comparison to her issue. “What difference does it make?”

Reminding her that visions were usually a sign of trouble, the vampire commented, “It depends on whether it was an ugly, gray, blobby dangerous thing!”

Ranting, Cordelia told him, “I don’t care, I want it out of me! And if kissing is the only way to get rid of it I will smooch every damn frog in this kingdom!”

Just then, a small demon emerged from the office restroom. “Sorry, I thought I heard voices.”

“Cordy, this is our new client—,” Angel was attempting an introduction when Cordelia swept across the room to kiss the guy, “Barney.”

Afterward, Cordelia made a face, muttering under her breath. “Maybe not every frog.”
 

Lower beings, the required prognostications have come to pass. The Seer-to-Be has now become that which was intended, setting her on the path of future destinies. Through the sacrifice of the Seer-Before, our Champion remains a strong presence against the coming darkness. Chaos reacts to the defeat of the purebloods by calling up another army, this one entirely human, cloaked by the protection of man’s law. Before it is over, before Chaos returns the darkness to the light of day, our Champion will again call upon the wisdom of the Powers-that-Be.

Part 18

 Lower beings, the required prognostications have come to pass. The Seer-to-Be has now become that which was intended, setting her on the path of future destinies. Through the sacrifice of the Seer-Before, our Champion remains a strong presence against the coming darkness. Chaos reacts to the defeat of the purebloods by calling up another army, this one entirely human, cloaked by the protection of man’s law. Before it is over, before Chaos returns the darkness to the light of day, our Champion will again call upon the wisdom of the Powers-that-Be.
 

“Where are you going?” Cordelia asked Angel as he put on his jacket preparing to leave.

Nodding toward Barney, their demon client, he explained, “To check out his apartment. He thinks whatever is chasing him knows where he lives.”

Cordelia looked none too thrilled to be left alone with their client whose mannerisms and tone gave her a creepy feeling. Then Angel paused on his way out the door. Catching her attention, he grinned, “Hey! And behave yourself. I don’t want to find you two necking on the couch when I come back.”

There was one stop Angel had to make before heading over to the demon’s place and that was the chamber of the Oracles. Assuming they would let him in, Angel was planning a few of those pesky questions they loved so much.

Greetings, lower being. The female Oracle was all friendly politeness. You have forestalled the coming darkness for a time, our fallen Seer now a hero laurelled.

“You lied to me about Doyle,” accused Angel as he stared down the Oracle whose dark eyes appeared somewhat bewildered. The higher beings did not react to his fury, only his statement.

Stepping forward, her brother raised a hand toward the vampire to silence his further accusations.

We, the Oracles to the Powers that Be, do not condone mendacity. Truth spoken may be heard as one wishes and not as intended. The augury indicates ‘all you love will live then die’. Is it not true for all mortals? Though in the case of your friend the thread of life was cut short. What is done—

“—cannot be undone,” Angel finished. “You keep saying that. But I— we need Doyle back. You can fold time, you’ve done it before. Bring him back.”

Would you undo his noble act? Sacrifice yourself instead of the willing? Leave your seer alive and your love on a broken path? This is not to be borne and the Powers will not see it happen.

Somehow, Angel knew that would be their take on it, but he had to come here. Had to ask them to try. Doyle was not the only one affected by this seeming interference on their part. “Why Cordelia? Why give her the visions? Was this predestined? Did the Powers manipulate us as it seems?”

So many questions, brother. The female’s toga swooshed around her ankles as she turned, staring closely at Angel as if he was a curious specimen.

Provide them sister so that he may leave.

Angel sensed his frequent visits were becoming an irritation, but he deserved the truth from them. He was going to get it.

That she is your seer was destiny’s call, for the auguries have long shown it to be true. That she is your mate and your soul came unknown to our eyes, for we saw only danger. That she is your love remains your desire alone, for all mortals and those creatures of soul-possessing nature have the free will to choose.

Her words made perfect sense, Angel realized with a moment of clarity. “What can you tell me about Cordelia’s vision? This is new to her. She wasn’t certain what the vision meant.”

Those answers lie within you.

Great. Back to the cryptic message crap. “What next?”

One from your past arrives. Welcome him, for he shall become your counsel, your Watcher and the guardian of love’s greatest gift.

Before Angel had the opportunity to ask anything more, he found himself zapped back to the antechamber in a burst of brilliant light. As per usual, the Oracles confounded him with their cryptic predictions. One from the past, they’d said. A Watcher? Love’s greatest gift? There was nothing to do, but concentrate on the present and hope it would all make sense when the time arrived.

Arriving at Barney’s apartment, he began searching the place when the sound of footsteps approached from the hall behind him. Angel had left the door ajar, so was unsurprised to find it swinging open in the next minute. A dark silhouette stood in the doorway carrying an armed crossbow that was now pointed at the vampire’s chest.

Then Wesley Wyndham-Price stepped into the light greeting the vampire with a look that signaled he was not the one expected inside. “Hello, Angel.”

Angel kept his hands in his pockets, attempting to look non-threatening since that was an obvious concern of the man before him. “Wesley.”

“I wager you never thought you’d see me again,” the leather-garbed Englishman said.

“To tell you the truth,” Angel admitted frowning, “you weren’t the top Watcher on my One-From-the-Past list. Nor the most-likely-to-wear-leather list, for that matter. What are you doing here?”

Still pointing the crossbow, Wesley watched the vampire’s approach wondering if this was *good* Angel or *bad* Angel. That would make him Angelus, of course and the vampire had answered to Angel. Of course, Wesley thought about it— that could just be a ruse.

“Hup-up-up!” He pointed the weapon closer. “I’m the one asking the questions here. I think it only fair to warn you that any sudden movement and I’d be forced to—”

With lightning speed Angel reached out and knocked the crossbow to the floor. Wesley stared down at it for a second before taking a deep breath. “Right. You had a question?”

Suppressing a smile, Angel took the opportunity to take in the changes that Wesley had made to himself over the past months. The suit and tie guy had adopted black leather. Not expected at all, he thought with amusement. “Interesting look. Motorcycle? The Watchers Council trying out a new look?”

Holding his head erect, sauntered into the room trying not to give away the fact that the leather pants chaffed in all the wrong places. “In point of fact, I no longer work for the Watcher’s Council. I came to the conclusion that I was of greater value to the world at large working autonomously.”

Wes tried to position himself with his bended knee on the bed trying to project the right look to assure the vampire that he was confident, competent and knew exactly what he was doing. His booted foot slipped off the bed causing him to falter, catching himself on the side of the mattress.

Watching with a growing understanding, Angel nodded. “They fired you.”

“Hardly,” Wesley countered. “With Buffy unwilling to follow Council orders, there was simply no opportunity to function as Watcher.”

After a beat, the Englishman added, “And that’s why I’m a rogue demon hunter.”

Angel deadpanned, “You’re a demon hunter.”

“*Rogue* demon hunter,” corrected the former Watcher. “And I’m on the trail of a rather nasty bugger right now. So you best stay out of my way.”

Wesley explained that the demon left his victims mutilated. Each one possessed a power of some sort: telepathy, poison tongue, healing hands. Whatever the physical source of that power it was ripped, gouged or torn from their corpses.

“He’s collecting powers,” realized Angel with a frown. The vampire had a bad feeling about this all of a sudden and described Barney.

“No, that’s not him at all,” Wesley denied. “This demon is quite enormous and powerful, not like the one you describe. More of a yellow-green rather than ruddy in complexion. Lately, he’s been secreting some sort of viscous, yellow fluid.”

A blob of and unknown gooey substance dripped onto Wesley’s jacket from above. “Like that?”

Dropping from the ceiling the demon attacked, throwing Wesley across the room so that he crashed against the wall and slid to the floor. Angel stepped in going blow for blow with the beast, but he too was knocked to the floor. As soon as Angel was out of the line of fire, Wes raised the crossbow that he had landed upon and aimed it directly at the demon’s chest. He fired, hitting dead center.

The demon shrieked and then jumped out the nearby window, escaping.

Cordelia was in the middle of sketching the ugly blobby thing from her vision when Angel returned, accompanied by another man. She was stretched out across Angel’s bed, having gone in there to escape the irritating clamor of the empathy demon’s conversation. She concentrated on the object, never looking up.

Barney got up from the couch only to call out in panic as he realized, “That’s the guy. The one who’s been following me.”

He darted off up the stairs, so Angel left to bring him back, pausing to instruct Wesley, “The books are over there.”

Cordy ripped off the drawing balling the yellow paper into a wad that she let drop to the floor. Tossing the pad aside, she looked out the open bedroom doorway and realized that there was a leather-garbed man bending over Angel’s books.

Oh, good! Another victim. Might as well give it a whirl.

Tapping him on the shoulder, Cordy didn’t wait for introductions. As soon as he turned to face her, she latched onto his lips and kissed him until she was certain *something* had to take. Wesley was a little light-headed by the time she lifted her head away.

With her fingers across her mouth, Cordy registered surprise that the stranger felt and tasted so familiar. She blinked twice before realizing that the man was none other than Wesley Wyndam-Price.

“C-Cordelia?” He thought he might be seeing things. The shapely brunette that had been sprawled across Angel’s bed was none other than Cordelia Chase from Sunnydale. “I-I-I didn’t know you’d be here. Are you— are you living with Angel?”

“Working with Angel,” she clarified with reluctant irritation.

“Oh. Well, that is a good thing considering that welcome kiss,” Wes commented. He doubted the vampire would be pleased if it had been otherwise. Though that did not explain how she felt so comfortable in a vampire’s bedroom.

Cordelia stalked back to the couch. “I wasn’t a welcome kiss. It was an experiment.”

Was she comparing it to the one kiss they had shared after her high school graduation? “Well, I for one thought it much improved over the last time. Perhaps next time—”

“No next time, Wes,” she nipped that idea in the bud. “I told you— experimenting. No flashy glowy lights. No transfer of visions— long story. It didn’t work.”

Well if she wanted to see stars, Wesley would need to work up to that. He went onto tell her about the dangers of his job as a rogue demon hunter. That drew a look of confusion. Cordy asked for clarification, “What’s a rogue demon?”

Angel returned with Barney. He explained that Wesley was not after him, but rather the demon that was *really* after him. They had discovered why the demon was following him— it wanted to steal Barney’s empathic abilities. Wesley returned with an open book, reading about the beast in question.

“It’s a Kungai.” Wesley paraphrased, “It’s of Asian origin. Possesses a Tak horn capable of consuming its opponent’s life-force. We were lucky to have escaped with our lives.”

The vampire decided that Barney, Wesley and Cordelia should stay put while he dealt with the Kungai. That brought arguments from everyone except Cordelia. She was still trying to get a good depiction of the ugly blobby thing. It seemed obvious that if she couldn’t get rid of these dratted visions, Cordelia was going to have to take drawing lessons.

Barney didn’t want to stay with the grumpy secretarial assistant. “She’s drowning in her sorrows one minute, attacking me verbally the next and then totally ignoring me. After the kiss she laid on me when I arrived, I thought you guys had great customer service for your clients, but this treatment is just not right.”

Wesley caught the fact that Cordelia had been kissing this demon client of theirs as well as himself. He’d have to remember to ask about it later. In the meantime, he argued about being left behind. This was *his* demon they were chasing. He had a right to accompany Angel on this mission.

“I work alone,” Angel told him as he went through the weapons locker.

The former-Watcher hoped he would listen to logic. “I know how to track him. You are not going to catch him without me by your side.”

“I had someone by my side,” the dark look flashed a warning. “He’s dead now. I won’t let that happen again. I work alone.”

With that, Angel disappeared up the stairs leaving all three behind. Wesley excused himself to go change, having brought his pack inside from the motorcycle. He made it clear to Cordelia that he planned to follow Angel into Koreatown as soon as he was ready.

After Wes’ departure, Barney and Cordelia went into the kitchen where she offered him some coffee.

“Its kind of strong and a little clumpy,” she pointed out. “Never could brew the real stuff. I’m more of an auto-drip girl.”

“Yes, you are,” Barney’s face took on a dark look.

“What?” Cordelia caught the insult and was astonished. “For someone who is named after a big purple singing dinosaur, you have a lot of nerve.”

Then the empathy demon began to skim her thoughts, digging a little deeper. He taunted her about her acting career, stating that *he* was a much better actor. After all, none of them suspected a thing “Fooled you!”

Cordelia tried to run, realizing quickly that their client was really not a good guy. Barney raced around the kitchen table as she hot-footed around to the other side. She had been telling the empathy demon about trying to rid herself of the visions, having decided that he deserved some explanation for the kiss.

“So, you hate your gift?” Picking her up, he threw her against the table so that she lay on her stomach. Then he proceeded to wrap the cord from the floor lamp around her wrists. “I bet you would love to rip those pretty little eyes out if you could.”

Her hazel irises were drowning in a sea of white as the demon spoke, “I know I would.”

Wesley arrived at the local demon spa, quickly locating Angel. The vampire noted his change of appearance without comment and nodded the Watcher’s attention toward the dying Kungai demon stretched out on one of the massage tables. After several attempts at various demon dialects, Wesley muddled his way through the difficult language.

“He’s trying to describe his killer,” Wesley realized and then repeated the words. “Demon, heart, reader.”

Angel’s head came up with a start. “An empathy demon. Barney.”

Wesley could barely keep up with the vampire who ran out of the spa doing a flying leap into his black convertible. Mounting his own vehicle in less swashbuckling fashion, Wes turned on the ignition and sped back to the offices of Angel Investigations. Despite the mobility of his motorcycle, he could barely see the Plymouth in the distance ahead.

Angel had already searched the office upstairs by the time Wesley made it inside. He took the stairs and found the kitchen to be a mess as though a struggle had taken place there. The vampire in his bedroom crouching down to pick up a discarded wad of paper. Wes remembered that was where Cordelia had been earlier.

“This is all my fault,” Wesley whined.

“We both left her here. Neither of us knew,” Angel stood up in one smooth movement.

“I should have,” countered Wesley. “All this time I’ve been tracking the wrong demon. If anything happens to Cordelia because of me—”

The vampire practically growled his response. “Nothing is going to happen to Cordelia. I won’t let it.”

Angel uncrumpled the paper in his hands, turning the sketch one way and then they other. Finally, he realized, “I know this. It’s a sculpture by Van Gieson, Maiden with Urn.”

Handing it over to Wesley, he explained, “Cordelia saw this in a vision. It could be telling us where Barney took her.”

A quick computer search showed the most likely location for the sculpture. Right here in LA at the Ramsey Hotel. While Angel performed a more detailed search, Wesley kept running the one untraslated phrase of the Kungai demon over and over in his head. Then it came to him.

“Angel! It’s an auction. The Kungai demon indicated that its Tak horn was to be sold at an auction.”

Across town, Barney was already starting the bidding on lot number thirty-two. After removing Cordelia’s gag so that the crowd seated in the hotel convention center could get a better look at the girl’s face, he checked to make sure that her wrists were still secure.

“The magnificent eyes of a seer. Your very own pipeline to the Powers that Be, folks,” he introduced the auction items. “The possibilities are endless. Keep the girl as a slave, remove the head as a trophy or simply harvest the eyes. In any case a unique party icebreaker. Doesn’t get any better than this. Let’s start the bidding at two thousand.”

Oh, God! Oh, God! When was Angel going to get here? He had to come. Cordy knew that he had to come. He better come, dumbass vampire!

The bidding continued with two vile looking demons upping the ante one after the other. When the offers slowed down a bit, Cordelia decided it was time for a little stalling. When the top offer reached eleven thousand and Barney looked like he was going to pound his gave, Cordelia spoke up.

“Hey! You know you pay twice that for cataracts. These eyes are flawless even without the stupid visions! That the best you can do?”

Barney gave her an impressed look. The bidding climbed rapidly after that reaching twenty thousand when one of the two main bidders lifted his auction paddle and dealt the other one a crushing death blow. As his opponent fell to the ground few took much notice of it, assuming that the winner of the match would now take home the seer’s eyes.

Said eyes were wide with fear, but Cordy called out to the rest of the crowd. “Come on, guys! Have some huevos. Whitey here is stepping all over you. You know what else these eyes can do? They can see stuff like- uh- danger, and— and evil and locations of buried treasure!”
A few more got in the game, but that all came to an end when the bidding with another new participant. Cordelia noted a well-dressed business woman holding her auction number aloft. Her confident voice called out her offer. “Thirty thousand.”

No counter-bid came. “Sold to the lovely lady from Wolfram & Hart.”

Cordelia was dragged backstage where the lady lawyer proceeded to demand the items of purchase— now. No need for the rest of the body, she claimed. She only wanted the eyes themselves. Barney and his assistant argued over who would get to pluck out Cordelia’s eyes.

Then Angel and Wesley arrived taking out hotel security right and left. Well, perhaps just Angel. Wesley was hopping around trying to remove the knife he had taped to his ankle. Within minutes, the enemy was finished. The lawyer took a back way out, reporting the loss of the seer’s eyes and Angel’s interference to her superiors by cell phone. Barney was dead— killed by Cordelia who stabbed him in the back with the Tak horn from the auction. It sucked the empathy demon’s life away leaving only a dried up shell.

“Cordelia!” Angel called out to her after dropping the last of his opponents to the ground. He was at her side in seconds, holding her shoulders and turning her to his view to ensure that she had no injuries.

Wesley watched from his position on the ground as the vampire took Cordelia into his arms, kissing her almost frenetically. He realized that while Cordelia claimed not to be living with Angel, they were far from uninvolved. Thoughts of Sunnydale returned. He had not been present for the whole Angelus incident, but Rupert Giles had informed him of the entire affair— and wasn’t that a proper choice of words.

Buffy Summer’s love affair with the vampire had resulted in the loss of his soul, the death of Giles’ beloved and nearly caused the world to be sucked into hell. All because of a moment of bliss.

And now Angel and Cordelia appeared to be on the road to bliss. That couldn’t be good. What was Angel thinking? Well— probably the same thing that Wesley had when Cordy kissed him. That was neither here nor there, he decided. These two needed watching.

Unfortunately, it appeared that it would have to be from a distance. After gathering his belongings, Wesley walked back into the kitchen where he was surprised to find the vampire cooking. Mmm! That smelled so good. Wes hadn’t eaten— since yesterday, he realized.

“Well,” he addressed them noting that Cordelia was seated at the table waiting patiently for her food, “I’ll be off then. Angel. Cordy. Who knows when our paths will cross again.”

Shaking Wes’ hand, Angel then turned to reach into the fridge pulling out a carton of orange juice. “Wesley.”

“Do you even know where you’re headed?” Cordelia asked as she watched Wesley put on his khaki jacket.

“Us rogue demon hunters rarely do. Wherever evil lurks, wherever the forces of darkness threaten humanity, that’s where I’ll be.”

Cordy reached out for the glass of juice that Angel held out for her. Taking a sip, she gave Wesley a smile. “Okay. Keep in touch.”

Hearing the Englishman’s stomach growl, Angel decided that he’d had enough fun. “Sit down Wesley. Have some breakfast.”

“Ooh! I suppose so,” Wesley eagerly hurried back to the table.

“After a night of fighting the lurking evil,” Cordy explained with a grin, “we get eggs.”

“Toast?” Angel offered him a slice from the small stack.

“Please!”

It wasn’t until Wesley had gulped down his own food that he noticed the extra plate had already been set out for him. He thought about their lost companion— Doyle? Wondering if the extra plate was automatic, a reflexive action and not intended for himself at all. But as Angel and Cordelia recapped the events of the night, they included Wes into their conversation. For the first time in— well, since he had arrived in California, Wesley felt a strange sense of belonging. That he had suddenly found a niche where he could belong. Somewhere to make a difference.

He would make himself useful until they decided to keep him around for good. In the meantime, he would watch and wait— and keep an eye on them for their own protection.

Over the next couple of weeks, Wesley insinuated himself into their good graces. At least he tried to do so. Between Cordelia’s visions and Wesley’s demonology skills, Angel Investigations had a couple of very successful cases.

The stories of Angelus were bad enough, but when Wesley discovered that recent deaths right here in Los Angeles were the same style shown in his research on Angel he began to worry. If Angelus was back, bliss had been had when he had his back turned. Cordelia was incensed that Wesley would accuse her of sleeping with Angel.

“I’m not Buffy!” She practically screamed at him. “I know he’s cursed. So we’ve kissed a few times. Pfft! We know what we’re doing!”

Wesley doubted that very much.

Angel wasn’t much better when Wesley went to him. “Stay out of it, Wes.”

That was all he had to say on the matter, though it quickly became clear that Angelus must be coming out to play. The slayings continued until Angel ordered them to chain him to his bed. Cordelia had a lot of fun with that one despite being worried about the vampire. Wesley never left her side despite the fact that she was determined to sit in a chair the whole night.

When another killing occurred overnight, they knew that it was not Angel. Unfortunately, Wesley understood the vampire’s despair when Angel determined that he was still the responsible party. Penn, one of Angelus’ bloodthirsty childer, had come to LA on a killing spree trying to relive his descent into the vampire world by reenacting his first kills. The kills he completed at his sire’s side.

Cordelia expressed concern to Wesley, telling him that Angel had been hesitant to kill Spike when he was in town to steal the Gem of Amarra. “It’s in the blood, Cordelia. The blood is there inside them. It always remains a binding link between mates, between sire and childe, and between clans. Angel is descended from the Order of Aurelius.”

In then end, Angel did not kill his wayward childe. It was Detective Kate Lockley whose help on previous missions had been valuable who dealt the killing blow with a broken four-by-four almost taking out Angel in the process. Now she reacted to Angel with fear and hatred that made Cordelia’s hesitancy against vampires seem negligible.

Their next little caper came as something of a shock to Wesley who had never been quite so directly involved in demon slayage. Especially demons of truly enormous size. If he thought the Kungai demon was enormous, then Wesley decided he needed to review the meaning of the word.

Cordelia decided that it was time to leave mourning Doyle behind her and accepted an invitation from some of her acting acquaintances. When the trio of young women came to pick up Cordy at the office, Wesley had to admit that it was a bit difficult to see through all the steam on his glasses. These ladies certainly were— what was it that Cordy called it? Oh, yes— drool-worthy. That was just her description of herself, which Wes certainly had to agree with.

Not that he said anything or looked like he was interested in Cordelia in anyway. Angel emitted a dangerous vibe whenever she told him that she was going out with friends. He was completely possessive in his questioning and demeanor. Wesley figured that it was a good thing the girls were picking Cordy up. He had a feeling that there were men at the club and if they had been here too— not so pleasant fireworks were likely to explode.

Close enough. Sarina, one of the well-coiffed women, told Cordelia, “Girl you are looking hot tonight. Wilson won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

“Sarina,” she sighed heavily. “I told you I’m not—”

Oh, dear! Too late. Angel heard the question and immediately went into interrogation mode. “Wilson?”

“Wilson Christopher. The fashion photographer who’s had his eye on Cordelia,” Sarina explained to the man who had been introduced as her friend’s boss. “Cor has been a bit standoffish the two times they’ve met, but Wilson is such a hottie. You know what they say— third time’s the charm.”

Flashing a doe-eyed look at her vampire, Cordelia promised, “I’ll be good.”

“Oh, yeah.” Emily, the tall one, sounded like she didn’t believe a word. “With Wilson? It’ll be really, really good.”

Angel was looking dark and brooding in his corner of the room. That was when Sarina invited him to tag along. Turning to Wesley, she cooed, “That Hugh Grant thing is starting to work for me. You can come too. Keep us company until the boys show. They’re always late— but it gives us time to flirt.”

Agape, Wesley could only stutter, “Th-that’s very kind of you.”

Then Cordelia was suddenly struck by a vision forcing Angel and Wesley to ignore her pain in favor of covering for her. They were certain she would not want these friends to know the truth. Cordy scribbled down the address they needed to go to in order to take care of the demon in the vision.

Sarina waved them off as Angel dragged Wesley along behind him. “Stop by later. We’ll be at La Brea.”

“M-my, they were attractive,” Wes muttered as the vampire practically tossed him into the passenger seat of the car. “Wonder who this Wilson person is. I haven’t heard Cordy say anything about meeting him. Have you?”

Angel’s stoic silence was enough to indicate that Cordelia said nothing to the vampire about meeting Wilson Christopher on two separate occasions. It puzzled Wesley who thought certain that the ex-cheerleader was hung up on Angel. The two of them had been dancing in a little circle of angst these past two weeks.

“Hurry up,” Angel ordered upon their arrival, handing Wes a sword. “Let’s get this done.”

Only now, at Cordelia’s apartment-warming party could Wesley even think about what happened next with anything other than horror. No not the hatching baby demon. The *other* one.

Wesley danced his way over to Angel and Cordelia who were huddled up near the wall. She was encouraging him to have a little fun, but Angel wasn’t playing. He stalked off to the kitchen to spend time with Dennis— the ghost. Trust Cordelia to have an apartment complete with invisible roommate.

“Still brooding?” Wesley asked.

With her hands on her hips, Cordelia was still staring after the vampire. “He doesn’t think I should have a party so soon after Doyle’s death. I can’t stand the funk we’ve been in so I just wanted to have a little fun. Is that so bad?”

“No, Cordy,” Wesley assured her.

“Angel is bad enough, but Sarina, Emily and Sarah still refuse to speak to me after what happened.”

Wesley nodded his understanding— even if he couldn’t see why saving the girls from becoming pregnant with demon spawn was a bad thing. After dealing with the hatchling, Angel and Wesley had appeared at La Brea not long after the oozing-with-charm Wilson Christopher and his buddies arrived. They were not very pleased when Cordelia’s boss and co-worker suddenly showed up.

“They should be grateful,” Wes pointed out.

Cordelia crossed her arms with a glower. “They don’t know that the guys were scummy demon-worshippers. They don’t know that their dates were going to seduce them and act as surrogate fathers to the demon’s hell spawn.”

Her voice was an angry whisper that Wesley was glad was not entirely directed at him.

“It was very fortunate that those young men stopped to discuss their plans for the evening. If not for Angel’s sensitive hearing, they might have gotten away with it— even after he finished with the questioning.”

The vampire had discovered their plot and learned that the surrogate insemination could only happen on that night. Angel proceeded to kick their collective asses all over the back alley behind the club. They vanished into the night, barely able to lift themselves off of the ground.

Though Wesley hadn’t seen it, he was certain that Angel had an extra special message for Wilson Christopher.

Finding Angel return with bloody knuckles and gashes, Cordelia forgot all about the man the girls had hand-selected for her. Until they angrily reminded her that their dates were also missing. Putting two and two together, the trio of women realized that Cordelia’s hot looking boss had been in a fight— with their dates.

He gave them no explanation other than the fact that he discovered the four men were not the kind that they should be out with.

“Cordelia, are you coming?” Sarina asked her as she rose from the table. The two others stood as a pair, reminding her of the Cordettes— her Sunnydale subjects. “There are other fine looking fish in this crowded sea. Interested?”

“No, Sarina.” Cordelia told her. So not a follower. Besides, “My interests are right here.”

Part 19

 A time of truth approaches for our Champion and his Seer, though it is wrapped in darkness, desire and the siren call of eternal life.
 

“Where is he, Dennis?” Cordelia paced back and forth across her living room carpet. “I paged him like ten minutes ago! Wesley can be so slow. He’s a slug.”

The door bell rang and Dennis opened the door to admit Wesley Wyndam-Price who was gasping for air as if he had been running a great distance. Doyle’s old place was not that far away and Wesley was still living there until he found a better place of his own. The text message Cordelia had sent him was simple and to the point: My apt. Angelus. Come now.

Entering the apartment with a large cross in one hand and a stake in the other, he gazed left and right, but saw nothing out of the ordinary to indicate the evil Angelus was in the apartment. Cordelia had stopped pacing to watch Wesley go from room to room.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for Angelus,” that seemed obvious. “Did he leave?”

Rolling her eyes at the former Watcher, Cordelia told him. “He isn’t here. Would I stop to send you a text message if Angelus was after me?”

“Oh.” Wesley hadn’t thought of that. “Then why am I here?”

“I think I may have done a bad, bad thing.” Cordelia nibbled nervously on her lower lip. “Terrible. I went shopping with Rebecca.”

Rebecca Lowell was the Hollywood actress whom Angel had saved from potential murder. She kept getting death threats from an unknown party. Cordy had been thrilled to meet her and even handed out one of their Angel Investigations business cards never thinking that the woman would contact them with a request for on-going assistance.

Angel had accepted the job at Cordelia’ pleading despite the fact that he felt the actress could afford a *real* investigator. Not a vampire who pretended to be one while helping the hopeless after dark.

“The shopping was terrible?”

“Huh? No, that was fantastic. Do you know they close stores for her?”

“Cordelia,” Wesley interrupted just as she started in on describing her divine lunch at Mirabelle’s.

“Sorry.” Cordelia explained that over lunch Rebecca kept asking her questions about Angel.

“Oh, you know, where does Angel hail from, what’s his favorite color, what kind of after-shave he wears, the exact specific details on how someone could make themselves into a vampire.”

Wesley gasped, remembering Rebecca’s accidental discovery of Angel’s true nature. “You don’t think she would try to—”

Cordelia cut in, “What? That she’d try to maneuver Angel into an exchange of bodily fluids to make herself eternally young and beautiful, thus saving her failing career? Gee, now that you mention it.”

After a pause, Wesley pointed out, “Angel wouldn’t— I mean he feels— that is to say you are—.”

“Angel might not, but I don’t trust that skanky no-good ho any farther than I can throw her.”

“I thought you liked her.”

“Oh, I did,” Cordelia assured him. Then glowered, “Until she started trying to get her hooks into Angel. She’s gonna try something and I don’t want bliss of any kind being had.”

Wesley wondered aloud, “Are you afraid Angelus will escape or that it will happen when Angel is with her?”

“Shut up, Wesley! I called you so that you could bring your motorcycle. I don’t want to take the bus. Too slow.”

Meanwhile, Rebecca was at her most charming having curled herself up on the sofa next to Angel. The vampire was looking a little nervous. This had gone beyond the bounds of a quiet celebration for which the actress had brought a bottle of champagne. She was in seductress mode and while she was certainly beautiful, Angel didn’t want that. Couldn’t have that, even if he did.

He covered his confusion by drinking all of the champagne in his glass, not even noticing the slight aftertaste. Soon he was feeling just fine. Never complained when Rebecca’s hand crept under his shirt to move along the contours of his chest. Barely thought twice when she snuggled closer and told him he deserved some happiness.

“That’s probably not a good idea,” Angel cautioned her even while something in the back of his mind shouted in glee. “Hmm— you smell so good.”

Feeling her hand on his flesh, “So warm.”

“Do you miss that?” Rebecca asked. “You don’t have to. You can have what you’ve been craving all these long, lonely years. We both can. Forever.”

“What? Whoa. What are you saying?” Angel’s head was spinning as he watched the raven-haired human expose her throat to him.

“You know what I’m saying.”

Angel struggled to stay focused. He could feel himself starting to lose control. “This isn’t a game, Rebecca. You think you want eternity? I think you need a taste of what you’re really asking for.”

He dragged her physically over to the refrigerator, forcing her against the edge of the counter while he opened a bag of blood and sprayed it down her throat. It covered her throat and dripped down to the top of her dress. She tried not to gag on it, but Rebecca was already looking scared.

“What did you do to me?” Angel demanded.

“Nothing.”

Angel looked back at the champagne glasses. “You put something in my drink.”

Rebecca confessed, “I just wanted you to relax a little, Angel. Lower the defenses a bit.”

Grabbing her, now barely controlling his anger, he shook her roughly. “What was it?”

“Just a little happy pill.” She said as Angel dropped his head to her shoulder, panting. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

“Everybody is so sorry,” Angel said against her flesh.

Pleading for understanding, the woman told him, “I just wanted us both to be happy.”

“Oh, but I am happy,” Angel replied with a smile against her shoulder.

“You are?”

“Yes.” Rebecca screamed as the vampire’s teeth crunched down into the fleshy part of her shoulder. He released her an instant later just so he could see her face.

“Perfectly happy.”

Rebecca watched in horror as she realized the warning Cordelia had provided was more than just a sign of jealousy. There really was an evil side to Angel. What was it she had called him— Angelus?

“You, you’re—.”

“Free,” he answered with a laugh.

Then Angelus proceeded to toy with the woman. Let her run, and then pull her closer for a better view of his fangs. This was so much fun. Hadn’t had any since Sunnydale. He wanted to draw this out— make it last. Make her beg for mercy before he killed her.

Rebecca somehow made into the elevator. She didn’t know what buttons to push and so the elevator actually went too far. Opening the outer doors, she tried to shimmy out between the narrow gap. When a hand gripped her ankle, trying to pull her out, Rebecca screamed.

“Ms. Lowell,” Wesley called out. “It’s okay.”

“Thank god! You have to help me! He’s trying to kill me.” On her feet again, Rebecca saw that Cordelia was also present. The look on the younger woman’s face showed that she knew exactly what the actress had planned.

Cordelia took one look at the actress’ clothes and the bite on her shoulder before calling her exactly what she felt, “You slut!”

“Huh?”

Standing close, Cordelia’s eyes sparked a dangerous fire. “You did it with him, didn’t you?”

Before Cordy could continue her ranting, Wesley managed to get the truth out of the woman. “Doximal?!”

“What’s that?” Cordelia wanted to know what the bitch had done.

“It’s a powerful tranquilizer,” Wesley revealed. “It induces— bliss.”

Cordelia slowly realized that Angel had not slept with Rebecca. He’d been drugged. Then Wesley told her, “He hasn’t really turned, Cordy. It’s an illusion— not real.”

“So its Angel, not Angelus?”

“Not really. Though he might not know the difference for a few hours until the drug wears off.” Wesley suggested that they get out of the building until it was safe to come back.

Rebecca took that suggestion, immediately running for the door, and was out into the front of the street just before the office lights went out.

“Looks like somebody didn’t pay the power bill.” Angel strolled into the office wearing his human face. “Cordelia? I’d lay odds that the phone’s dead too. What happens if there is an emergency?”

Wesley saw that the vampire’s attention was immediately fixated upon Cordelia. That could not be good. Angel without any control over his instincts looking at a luscious prize like Cordelia Chase? No. Definitely not good, especially considering that there was already a dangerous level of near-intimacy between them.

“This is just an illusion, Angel.” He tried to explain about the drug. “It’s just chemical suggestion— simulated.”

“Names Angelus,” he pointed out. “Simulated? Might have to get me more of this stuff. That explains why I’m able to get out for a little fun. The blasted soul connection has kept me under for a while.”

The vampire continued to approach Cordelia who was standing her ground near the office water cooler. Wesley didn’t want any harm to come to her. “I don’t want to resort to drastic measures, but unless you listen, I warn you—”

Laughing, Angelus couldn’t believe the English wimp was actually taking a stand. “You suddenly grow a pair, Wes?”

With a move that gave Wesley no time to act, Angelus lifted him up tossing him into a corner- knocking him out.

“Wesley!” Turning back to Angelus, Cordelia found him standing directly in front of her. There was no place to go. No where to run.

“Hello, baby,” Angelus said. “Been a long time.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, that’s right. Got a little amnesia.”

Cordelia lifted a hand to her throat. “Was that *you*?”

“Well it certainly wasn’t a barbecue fork.” Angelus reached out to push her hand away so he could look at the place his mark used to be.

Trying to remind herself that this was really Angel and not Angelus, Cordelia made herself remain as calm as possible. Upsetting the vampire would not be good. Still, she had to ask, “What are you going to do? Kill me?”

Angel’s mouth quirked into a one-sided leer. “That would be a waste. Besides, there are far too many things I have to do to that body before we talk about killing you, my sweet succulent Cordy. Even then, it wouldn’t be forever. I’d have you by my side for eternity.”

Gasping, she saw amber flash in his eyes. A sign she had come to know meant arousal, whether that be in lust or anger. She felt herself respond, staring up at him with a heated look. All it took was thinking about him, much less having him near.

But Angel wasn’t Angel.

As his thumb caressed her throat, the vampire knew what had to be done. He would take her, mark her, make her his. This time there would be no forgetting about it. This time she would remember who put that mark on her throat.

Angelus leaned in, claiming her mouth. He kissed differently when he was like this, Cordelia realized, feeling herself giving in to his needs. Angelus was not patient in any way, the tenderness was gone from his kiss. All that was left was demand and desire.

She was pressed up against the wall with her knuckles grazing the paint as Angelus held her wrists over her head with one hand. His other moved to open her shirt so that her bra-covered breasts lay exposed to his touch.

Opening the front clasp with a flip, Angelus let out a low rumble as he cupped her bare flesh in his hand. “Baby, I can’t wait to fuck you. Want you now.”

“Don’t do this,” Cordelia pleaded softly. “I-I don’t want my first time to be like this, Angel.”

Releasing her wrists, he moved down to palm her face with both hands. A chuckle emerged, one that scared her a little. “Cordy, Cordy, Cordy. I have to say that you are very persistent.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Angelus stepped back letting his gaze travel from her long chestnut hair down to her toes. He paused along the way back up, checking out her magnificent breasts. Then he saw it resting along her cleavage. Something that had been hidden by her shirt.

A necklace made of a corded chain held the memory crystal. “Where did you get that?”

Following his gaze, Cordelia told him. “Your desk. You said it belonged to me. I had it made into a necklace when I went shopping with Rebecca. It’s beautiful, Angel.”

The irony forced another laugh to emerge. Lifting a finger, Angelus waggled it and issued a command. “Come here, Cordy.”

“No,” Cordelia shook her head. That was a bad idea. “Comfy here.”

“It’s going to happen,” Angelus told her. “You’re mine. I want you.”

“I-I want you too,” Cordelia admitted. “I love you, Angel. I don’t want you to feel bad about this when the drug wears off.”

“Won’t matter, baby,” he grinned evilly. “Because I’ll have everything I want.”

Cordelia yelled at him. “What about what I want?”

“We’ll get to that. Me first.” Angelus moved over to the desk, thrusting everything on it save the computer to the floor. Some of the paperwork fell on the unconscious body of Wesley Wyndam-Price. “Desk. Now.”

Incensed, Cordelia was agape at the idea. “I am *not* letting you take *my* virginity on that desk, you crazy vamp.”

“Is that better than the hood of your car?”

“Huh?”

Walking toward her again, Angelus asked her, “How many times do I have to take your precious virginity for you to remember that you no longer have it?”

Cordelia didn’t even manage a squeak that time. The vampire was making no kind of sense to her.

Coming within arm’s distance, Angelus curled his lips showing his perfect teeth. “Well, you know what they say. Third time’s the charm.”

Holding up a finger, Cordelia warned him off. “Don’t you touch me, Angel. You’ll regret it.”

“Maybe at first, but then it’ll be all my pleasure from there.”

He was standing so close, staring down at her with those lust-filled eyes. Cordelia wanted to give in, let him take what he wanted. But Angel wasn’t the only one who would regret that. Why did he have to be under the influence the first time she told him she loved him? It wasn’t fair.

Angelus didn’t even act surprised at her declaration. He just seemed to know it, moving right on with the I-want-you-on-the-desk routine.

“I can smell your heat from here,” the vampire took a deep indrawn breath. “Apples and cinnamon. I can taste it already.”

“Eew! So not wanting to hear that right now. I don’t want you.”

“Liar! Baby, when I’m though here, you’ll be begging for my touch.” Angelus promised as he trailed a finger down her throat. “You keep pretending that it’s the Soul that keeps you here despite your fear. Well, the Soul pulled a bigger mind fuck on you than I ever did to your body.”

Confused, Cordelia could only whisper a protest that even she didn’t understand.

“Let’s do it now,” Angelus decided, forgetting about the desk. “I’m gonna take your virginity all over again, and I won’t even have to remove your clothes. All it takes is— this.”

As his finger reached the curve of her cleavage, Angelus wrapped his fist around the crystal necklace prepared to crush it.

Then suddenly Wesley charged over with a scream, pushing at the vampire. Angelus released his hold on the necklace, but its thin ties broke sending it crashing to the floor. The vampire tumbled into the open elevator shaft, leaving Wesley dangling dangerously near the opening.

Clutching at her shirt, Cordelia hurried over to check on Wesley and her vampire. Angel was out cold at the bottom of the shaft. Wesley appeared to be fine despite the fact that the vampire had knocked him out for a time. Though he had overhead some of the last of the conversation with Cordelia; Wes wondered whether Angelus was trying to scare her or if it actually meant something.

When consciousness returned, Angel found himself chained to his bed. Twice as many chains as they used when Penn was around and they thought Angelus had started killing again. Glancing up, he saw Cordelia and Wesley sitting on chairs at the bottom of the bed, watching him.

“Are you still evil?” Cordy asked him, her arms folded across her chest and a not-so pleasant look in her eye.

Wesley turned to her with a reminder, “He wasn’t really—.”

Cordy held up a hand commanding silence. “Yeah. Not *really* Angelus. Just thought he was. Put on a pretty good act if you ask me.”

Angel looked remorseful. “I need to apologize to you both.”

Waving that off, Wes told him, “There’s no need.”

“Hello! Victim here.” Cordelia stood up, now glaring at Wesley who strategically made an exit from the bedroom. It would be safe enough with Angel chained up for a while if they needed to talk things out.

Waiting until Wesley wandered out into the kitchen, Cordelia closed the door. This was just between her and Angel. Didn’t need him listening in— accidentally or otherwise. She went back to the bed, sitting on the edge and putting her hand on the part of his arm not covered in chains.

“Angel—”

But he didn’t let her speak. Angel rushed in to ask, “Do you remember?”

“Of course I remember, dumbass!” Cordelia told him. “It was only like half an hour ago. Not stuff that’s easy to forget, even if I don’t know why you said it.”

Then Angel realized that he had not crushed the crystal before Wesley attacked. “The necklace, Cordy. Can I see it?”

“Uh— yeah.” Why it mattered was another mystery, but Cordelia pulled it out of her pocket holding it up for his view. “You yanked on it and it fell to the floor. I thought it might have been ruined, but see— there’s only a teensy tiny flaw.”

Angel saw a miniscule black line down one side of the spell crystal. Apparently, Cordy’s memories were still intact. Letting out a moan, he let his head fall back against the pillow. How much more of this could he take?

Noting the vampire’s silence, Cordelia decided that he might actually let her get a word in. “Angel, I— some of the things you said. They scared me. You acted as if we were already lovers, except that it was Angelus not you. Taunting me about being a virgin—
Or not being one?”

“Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid, Angel. I’m mad.” Cordelia said. “There’s something you are keeping from me. Something to do with Angelus biting me that I can’t remember. Even Spike knew about it, hinting at things that made no sense.”

Realizing that he kept digging himself into a deeper hole, Angel reached for the only option left— begging her to let it go. “Cordy, please don’t ask.”

She was about to let the bubbling volcano blow when he added, “If I promise to tell you when I’m ready, will you let it go for a while?”

After a thoughtful pause, Cordelia leaned over to brush a kiss across his mouth. “You’re a lucky vamp, Angel. The fact that I love you goes a long way.”

Grinning, he tried to reach her mouth for another kiss, but she moved off of the bed out of reach. “Love you too.”

“I know that,” Cordelia told him with an impish grin, heading for the door.

“Cordy?”

Opening the door first, she turned to look over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“You’re not going to untie me?”

“After the things you said to me?” Cordelia looked at him with an evil expression that might rival Angelus himself. “Pfft!”

Part 20

 “That’s it, baby. Not bad for your first time,” Angelus told Cordelia with a purr in his voice as she finished licking him clean. He tugged at her long hair bringing her up to a standing position. “You’re a fast learner— good, because I’ve got a lot to teach you.”

After plying her mouth with a mind-numbing kiss, the vampire tossed her onto the bed. They were at her otherwise empty house and inside her bedroom, with her cheerleader outfit and shoes piled up on the floor. Only her sports bra and panties were left to cover her flawless skin. Flawless except for the vampire’s mark visible on her throat.

“My very own personal sex-ed instructor,” grinned Cordelia as she pulled up onto her elbows to get a good look at Angelus as he stripped off the rest of his clothes. “Mmm! And what a hottie!”

Angelus leered back with equal intensity. “Today’s continuing lessons in how to please your vampire, will include following commands—”

An amused snort sounded from the girl on the bed.

“—getting me off—”

“Did that,” she interjected despite his playful scowl.

“—and fucking you senseless.”

Cordelia shifted her long legs back and forth rubbing her thighs together in anticipation. Impishly running her tongue across her upper teeth and quirking her eyebrows up, “I think I could go for lesson number three.”

Watching the scene as if an outsider, Cordelia Chase looked down upon the couple from only a short distance. Close enough to reach out and touch. Close enough to hear every word spoken. Close enough to smell the scent of sex already permeating the room. With a strange realization, Cordy came to know that she was dreaming— another one of those kinky Angelus dreams.

In fact, it had been quite a while since Angelus had been in one of her dreams. Lately, they had all been about Angel. Poor Keanu, Jude and Brad were barely there anymore, except to watch occasionally or provide helpful pointers.

Cordy knew it was unlike any Angelus dream she had before— it was so graphically detailed. Whereas she had never seen *all* of Angel before, even when bandaging up his wounds, this dream hid nothing. Normally her dreams just skipped over some of the good parts, but this one showed it all.

Oh, my! How is that going to fit?

Angelus had her bra and panties off in seconds flipping her over onto her knees. Then he was inside her, causing Cordelia to gasp at his entry. Any initial discomfort quickly faded as he started a slow, but increasingly deeper rhythm. The vampire stretched her full and Cordelia’s inner muscles clamped down, quivering at the sensations.

It fit. Thanks. I was wondering about that.

The vampire’s hands stayed on Cordelia’s hips until she started a responding rhythm of her own, pressing back against his forward thrusts. Then he was touching her, hands roaming to pleasure zones she didn’t know she possessed. Angelus was driving Cordelia wild with need. Her low moans and startled cries bathing him in the sounds of her desire.

‘No, no,” Cordy pleaded as his rhythm slowed and his hands dropped away leaving her devoid of their touch. She was down on her elbows with her forehead against the mattress trying to hold back, trying not to beg for his touch. Her hips curled in backward circles trying to establish any kind of rhythm along the thick shaft still buried deep within her.

But the vampire’s hands came up to grip her hips, holding her still against him. “Tell me what you want, baby. Maybe I’ll give it to you.”

Moving back onto her hands so she could glance over her shoulder at the vampire’s face, Cordelia saw a mixture of teasing and devilish delight at this small torture. “Evil bastard! You know what I want. You. Now. Making me cum.”

Would she say that? Cordelia wondered at the demands made by her dream-self.

“That’s more like it. I don’t like whiny women.” Angelus reached under and around her ribs suddenly lifting her back on him as he knelt down on his haunches. Cordelia felt impaled and yet like she was floating over the mattress. Her legs couldn’t get a good grip nor reach the bed. Though reaching back with her arms, the position made it difficult to hold on.

One of Angelus’ arms circled low on her hip and the other curled around to palm the weight of her plump breast, his strength the only thing keeping her aloft. Then they were moving again, their bodies shifting against each other until it seemed like they were flying together.

Watching agape, the dreaming onlooker heard the sound of Angelus’ name pour from her own lips as she watched herself reach a climax in the vampire’s arms. As the cry came, so did his answering growl and Cordelia turned her throat to his view allowing better access to the scar on her throat.

As his fangs descended, Cordelia came fully awake calling out for Angel with the sound of her own heartbeat thudding in her ears. Sitting up in the middle of her bed, reminding herself that this was just another of her sexy vampire dreams, Cordelia felt frustrated and a little scared. Dreaming about Angel that way was one thing, but Angelus?

A glass of water floated in from the direction of the kitchen. “Thanks, Dennis.”

“I had another dream,” she told the ghost. “Only this one had Angelus in it. Whoa, was that hot and scary! Sounded like I knew what I wanted.”

The dresser drawer slammed loudly, making Cordelia realize that the ghost was not pleased with the description. She had given him the 411 on Angel’s curse not long after she moved into the apartment. Dennis knew that Angelus was evil and certainly not someone who should be showing up in a sexy dream.

“I suppose it’s just because of Angel’s romp under the influence of Rebecca’s happy pills,” Cordelia explained with a shrug.

Glancing at the clock, Cordy realized that it was almost time for her alarm clock to go off. “Might as well get up.”

Cordelia padded into the bathroom while Dennis proceeded to make up the bed. She chatted with the ghost from behind the ajar door. “Those creepy lawyers are at it again. Wesley says that Angel will never find Marquez much less get Marquez to testify. I’ve gotta go with Angel— he’ll find that little weasel.”

The ghost knew everything about Angel Investigations despite being tied to the physical location of the apartment where his mother had murdered Dennis by cementing him into a brick wall. Cordelia was naturally chatty and loved to gossip. Never really one to pay much attention to other people’s opinions, having a roommate who couldn’t answer back was a plus. Still, Dennis did his best to make his own thoughts known to the beautiful woman who occupied his apartment.

Dennis always admired the view.

Stripping away her nightgown, Cordelia stepped into the shower. She stood under the hot stream of water, letting it melt away the tension that settled in her shoulders. Washing and conditioning her hair, Cordy kept her eyes closed against the lathering bubbles. Then suddenly, she felt a large hand move across her wet skin. Fingers trailing along her spine, moving around to cup her breasts.

“Angel?”

Cordy squinted through the bubbles, reaching for a washcloth to clear her eyes. It felt like Angel. Felt so real. What was that? Obviously, the vampire was not in the shower with her. Leftover weirdness from her dream, she supposed.

Rinsing off, Cordelia reached for her scented soft soap and a sponge. She began to wash herself when the thoughts kept popping into her head. Hands. Touching her. Soft. Firm. Seeking and giving pleasure. Oh, God! That felt sooooooo good!

Then Cordelia’s eyes snapped open. “Dennis! Are you in here?”

The toilet flushed instantly turning the water cold. Letting out a shriek, Cordelia launched herself out of the shower stall. Grabbing a towel, she proceeded to dry herself off. “Dennis, I didn’t think you were such a perv. Scrubbing my back is one thing, but enough with the hands!”

A line drawing of a smiley face appeared in the steamed-over bathroom mirror. Dennis added a halo over its head. “Does that mean you’re innocent or that Angel has something to do with this?”

The lights flickered.

“Which one?”

The lights flickered again.

Grmph! Cordelia stalked threw the towel onto the floor and grabbed her robe. Turning to the vanity mirror, she started to comb through her long hair.

“Well, I’m off,” Cordelia waved a hand in the air an hour later. She wore a simple silk top that bared her midriff and shoulders along with a matching skirt. Her crystal necklace tied around her neck picked up the red hue of her shirt. Unnoticed, two new streaks of dark crystal marred its perfection.

She arrived at the office slightly ahead of schedule for once and discovered Wesley asleep on the couch near her desk. He had his back to the room and his white jacket was folded up under his head like a pillow. Hearing her entry, Wes woke up and sat yawning.

“Why are you here?” Cordy asked as she put away her purse.

Stretching, Wesley reminded her that Doyle’s ex-wife had come to town to pick up his personal effects. Since he had been borrowing the place, Wes packed up a few things, but did not want to intrude into the rest until Harry could arrive. Cordelia and Angel seemed reluctant to go to the apartment, still hurting from the loss of their friend.

“Harry stayed at the apartment last night,” he told her. “No use staying in a hotel, plus it gives her more time to sift through Doyle’s things.”

“Oh.” Cordelia was sorry she asked.

“What time is it?” Asked Wes only to look at his own watch. “Already? Harry should be awake by now. I’ll just head back and get a change of clothes.”

Cordelia sat down at her desk turning on her computer. From the doorway, Wesley called out a question. “Cordelia? Do you think it’s too early to ask Harry out to lunch?”

“Its only nine o’clock, Wes.” Cordy rolled her eyes.

“N-No,” Wesley faltered. “I meant too soon after Doyle’s death.”

“Oh! You mean too *soon* to ask her to lunch,” Cordelia’s eyes bugged out a little at the idea of Wesley acquiring the nerve to make the first move. “Harry was Doyle’s ex-wife. Plus, she’s into demons. Studies them, too. Big time into demonology. You two actually have a lot in common. I say go for it.”

Wesley’s mouth turned upward into a semi-confident smile. “Go for it. Yes, I think I will.”

As Cordelia started in on her work of updating several client files, she found it difficult to concentrate. Kept thinking about her dream and the weirdness in the shower. This thing with Angel acting like Angelus had her all mixed up. Now her work was suffering for it. She felt antsy, like she needed something, but didn’t know what it was.

“Maybe its hunger,” Cordelia realized that she had not stopped to let Dennis make her any breakfast.

Walking downstairs, she pulled out a box of cereal from the cabinet setting it on the table. Opening the refrigerator, she reached in for the milk finding it next to bags of blood. She remembered something about putting blood away. Could see herself taking blood out of a little cooler and putting it into the refrigerator.

In that memory, Cordelia left one out. She poured the blood into a mug attempting to heat it in the microwave, but couldn’t seem to work the controls. “It doesn’t have a button for body temperature,” she complained.

Then Angel was standing behind her, his hard body pressed up against her back. One hand held her close while the other reached around to work the controls. “Like this,” he instructed with his breath in her hair.

Blinking, Cordelia shut the refrigerator finding her appetite gone. What was going on? She didn’t remember that happening. Since when did she not know how to heat blood? Why *did* she know how to heat it? Weird, weird, weird. Just more weirdness to go along with the rest of the day. Even Wesley had chipped in acting like he wanted to date Doyle’s ex-wife. Now *that* was definitely up there on the weirdness scale.

Sitting down at the table, Cordelia buried her head in her hands. Maybe if she went back home and started over again, this day would turn out okay.

“Cordy!”

Her head darted up at the sound of her name.

“Cordelia,” now it came as a moan.

Angel? Angel was calling for her.

“Baby.”

Well, she wasn’t about to sit around ignoring him. Out of the chair in a flash, Cordelia hurried over to Angel’s bedroom door. She listened for a second, her ear pressed against the wood, but heard nothing. Turning the handle, she crept inside. Wondering if Angel was having a nightmare, Cordelia figured that she could wake him from it.

Creeping soundlessly toward the bed, Cordy soon found herself standing directly next to him. The sleeping vampire was as still and silent as the grave. No sound. No movement to indicate that he had called out to her.

So maybe she’d been hearing things. Or maybe the dream was over. Now that she was here, would it be so bad to look just a little? The comforter was on the foot of the bed somewhat rumpled from its original neatly folded position. A single sheet strategically covered Angel’s groin and his left leg. The rest of him was splayed out in all his naked vampire glory.

Cordelia was tempted to tug at the sheet.

She forced her grasping fingers to curl into a ball and then locked her wrists together behind her back to forestall any further ideas in that direction. No touchy-feely of the naked Angel flesh. Clothing and full body armor were the only way to go, Cordelia thought with a sense of frustration. Damned curse!

Now she knew how Buffy Summers felt— forced to walk a thin line between love and desire. Wanting without the possibility of completion. Wanting until you want nothing more.

Thinking of Buffy, she caught an inner glimpse of the blonde dancing at the Bronze. She was approaching Angel who was standing in a secluded corner— with herself? Buffy was moving toward them, her eyes gleaming dangerously with her approach. Her shoulders and hips moved with the rhythm of the music and her mouth curled seductively when Angel’s eyes met hers.

The small blonde moved in like a hunter who had just found its prey. Cordelia watched from her place next to Angel with his arm draped around her shoulders. Buffy leaned up to crush her perky breasts against Angel’s hard chest, pulling at the edges of his leather jacket so that he came within kissing distance. And kiss him, she certainly did.

Cordelia watched agape as Angel eagerly accepted the kiss. The vampire’s arm on her own shoulder moved as his hand drifted down Cordelia’s back to cup her bottom and pull her closer into his side.

As Buffy emerged from their kiss, she grinned conspiratorially, first looking one way and then the other. No one was around. “Kiss me, Cordy. It’s your turn.”

“What the hell?!” Cordelia snapped out of it with a loud screech, startling the vampire in the bed below.

“Cordy?” Angel sounded concerned as he sat up in the bed, automatically pulling the sheet a little higher. “Are you okay?”

“No,” she answered. “I’m not. This day is just too weird for words.”

First she was having sexy dreams with Angelus and now she was thinking about kissing Buffy Summers? Hallucinations. That had to be it. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. After being kidnapped and nearly having her eyes ripped out and now ‘Angelus’ making an appearance, was it any wonder?

“What happened, baby?” His soft voice and the use of that pet name got her every time. He tugged her down to the bed so that she lay down next to him, using his same pillow. Side-by-side, they were turned toward each other.

“I-I had a dream,” Cordelia started to tell him. “You— I mean Angelus was in it.”

A dark look crept across Angel’s face. “A nightmare.”

“Not exactly,” she admitted without getting into the details. “It just seemed so real.”

Angel cursed himself again for letting Rebecca Lowell into their lives. He shouldn’t have taken the damned case in the first place. Wouldn’t have if Cordy hadn’t been so excited about the idea of meeting a *real* actress. The woman’s desire to be eternally beautiful came with the flawed idea that she would still maintain her same lifestyle as a vampire. Getting him high on the bliss-inducing drug doximal by stirring it into his drink, she got far more than she planned.

Angelus came out to play as the drug completely wiped away his restraint. The fact that it was an artificial effect meant that while Cordelia’s presence bound his soul in place, it was too uninhibited to care.

“That’s just a reaction to facing down my demon, Cordelia,” he brushed his fingers along the curve of her cheek as he worshipped her face with his eyes. “It will pass.”

Thoughts of telling Angel about the more disturbing images faded as he leaned in to kiss her. Their mouths hovered over one another for an instant before Angel captured her lips in such a tender way that it left her shuddering at its loss. He pulled back to his spot on the pillow, still watching her as if memorizing the image of her there on his pillow. One wayward finger traveled down the outline of her body from shoulder to hips.

His silence said so much, Cordelia realized. Desire stared back from the warm chocolate eyes melting into her. Tilting closer, she pressed a butterfly kiss on his throat before she let her own finger follow the same path on him. Cool bare skin beneath her hand. Her whole hand, she realized that a single finger would not do. Exploring her way down from the powerful curve of his shoulder and forward across the hard muscle of his chest, Cordelia slid her hand beneath his arm and the covering of the sheet to splay her fingers across the firm flesh of his buttock.

A wicked gleam lit her eyes as she squeezed her hand. Whispering her delight, “Angel buns.”

“Don’t tell me— your favorite?”

“How did you guess?” Cordelia reluctantly moved her hand away, but only to bring her arm up along his back.

Angel told her the truth. “Something you said to me during our lost day.”

“Oh.” There was a flash of sadness in his eyes at her response and Cordelia did not want him thinking that she was still wallowing in despair about the fact that he was no longer human.

Then Angel’s gaze drifted down to the red top that seemed to stretch across her breasts in just the right way. He touched the sensitive skin above her navel before moving up to put his hand just beneath one curving breast, not quite touching it but making her body react just the same. Her nipples poked out hard against the surface of her bra remaining all too apparent to his view.

“I love seeing you in red,” Angel had a lusty rumble in his voice.

Cordelia sent him a look. “Vamp bait. I should know better that to wear it to the office.”

“Why did you?”

“Probably just a reaction to my sexy vampire dream.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you said Angelus was in your dream.”

“Huh? Oh. Guess I did.” Cordelia found herself blushing a hue that nearly matched her outfit.

A pause of no more than two heartbeats had Angel yanking Cordelia into his arms and rolling her on top of him. His hands tangled in her hair as he pushed the long strands out of the way so that he could kiss her mouth. Trying to drown himself in her taste.

Cordelia clutched at his shoulders. At first gasping in surprise, she quickly responded to his kisses and the feel of Angel’s hard body beneath her. Oh, my! That felt really good. Her legs entwined with his and the sheet wound around them.

“Angel,” she gasped when he let her up for a breath.

Then his mouth was on hers again, commanding silence. Refusing to let this moment come to an end too soon. Her lipstick was long gone, eaten away by Angel’s fervent kisses leaving behind only the plump fullness of her bare lips.

“Oh!” She managed to gasp as Angel’s hands slid down her back to grasp her bottom, pulling her up to sit high across his waist.

What? Cordelia’s head was spinning. What was he doing?

Then he held her under her arms reeling her body into his so that his face pressed against her breasts. Her crystal necklace clung close to her curves. His cheek moved across them feeling the soft material of her top and the pointed nipples topping the softer mounds. Angel turned his face open-mouthed against the silk covering.

Cordy cried out a throaty sob as his smooth teeth grazed across one nipple. Staring down into his eyes, she saw them shift to dark amber and felt her own hands move up to cup his face as the bone shifted to reveal his vampire visage.

“Angel,” she gasped his name again. “I want you. Oh, god! I want you, but you have to stop.”

The vampire reared up, pushing her off his body so that she landed at the lower end of the mattress. Legs akimbo, she lay back on her elbows watching as Angel rose to his knees. The thin sheet slipped from the surface of his body leaving Cordelia gaping at his hard male beauty. And for the few seconds that he allowed her to look her fill, she soaked up every inch of flesh bared to her eyes.

From the harsh demonic ridges of his face and the lustful gleam in his eyes, Cordy followed a vertical path from his head all the way down to where his knees dug into the mattress. Angel was simply breathtaking, she decided. All sculpted angles and dangerous, powerful muscle. Her eyes dropped to his groin taking in the sight of his aroused flesh with a hungry stare.

“Stop?” Angel asked the question. He could tell by the way she reacted, by the look in her eyes and by her scent that Cordelia didn’t want him to stop. She admitted to wanting him, not that he needed to hear the words. His mate was as aroused as he and wanted this just as much.

Forcing herself to look back into his eyes, Cordy reminded him of the curse. “We can’t. Or else maybe my dream about Angelus is really a vision from the PTB— warning me.”

“The curse.” As he said it, Angel knew that she did not remember otherwise. Until he was ready to tell her the truth or break the damn crystal it would be the only thing in her mind preventing their physical union.

Angel stared down lustfully into his mate’s eyes. The voice inside his head that was his demon’s darkest instincts told him to do what he wanted. Just take her. Just fuck her until they couldn’t even move from the bed. Make them cum so many times she couldn’t deny bliss was had by all. Then Cordelia would know there was no curse— not when she was in his arms.

Then he did have her in his arms, pulling her up from the bed with a swift move. Yanking her close so that his erection rubbed against the crumpled silk of her skirt and the exposed flesh of her thigh below. “I want you, Cordelia. So badly I could take you right now and never regret it.”

“Angel,” she whispered his name against his mouth. The combination of his words and the hardness of his body pressing against her had her head spinning. Something in the dark amber of his eyes as he stared down at her, something in the growl of his voice had Cordelia closing her eyes. Then her head lolled back tilting to the side as her body made an instinctive reaction to the presence of its by mate offering her neck to his fangs.

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