Where Angels Tread
By Spike SpeigelHeaven Sent
Sunnydale (Present)
“Hello, bitch! I was in the neighborhood. Decided to stop by and say hi.”
Los Angeles (Present)
“Look, we need to focus on the matter at hand. Cordy’s vision still needs to be verified. I know we all want to be with Gunn, but we’ve got to look at the bigger picture. Unless Cordy’s wrong, Armageddon’s coming, people. And we need to make sure that it doesn’t happen.”
Angel stood in the middle of the lobby, waiting for his audience to respond to his succinct yet dramatic speech. The group spoke.
“Angel. I’m the only one here. Fred’s at the hospital with Gunn and Lorne’s upstairs recuperating. So, I think you can replace all those ‘Cordys’ with ‘you’.”
He didn’t mean to chuckle, but she was right. Seems that their numbers were thinning, without him even realizing it. At least Cordy was still with him. She always was.
“Sorry, Cordelia. Kinda got stuck in dramatic speech mode.”
“It’s okay. I’m in my Oscar acceptance mode, so I know how hard it is to get out of the mood.”
Angel smiled slightly before the weight of the situation finally dawned on him. “Where do we start? Trying to validate your vision.”
Cordelia furrowed her brow, trying to come up with an idea that would answer all of their problems. She finally came to a decision. “We could just smack Spike around until he tells us the truth.”
“Don’t think that’s an option, Cordy, as much as the idea tempts me.”
Angel moved over to the leather couch that once served as a respite for guests as they waited for the bellboy to take their luggage to their assigned rooms. He sighed softly as he sat next to Cordelia, feeling her weight shifting against his shoulder as she leaned against him.
“So, now what?”
Angel answered truthfully. “Honestly. I don’t know. Maybe we should wait until Fred comes back. Three heads are better than two.”
“Maybe you’re right. But I hate this, being clueless. You’d think the Powers would send me another head-o-gram just to expedite matters.”
“I wouldn’t bother too much with the Powers. They can’t help you now.” Angel and Cordelia turned to the front door of the Hyperion to see who had just spoken. Angel looked on at the stranger as Cordelia began to tense up.
“Cordy?”
She didn’t hear Angel for she was lapsing into a vision.
The Border (Past)
“You know. When you brought me here to serve as one of the seraphim, I didn’t expect this?”
Gabriel turned to his young ward, a hint of a smile on his face almost evident. Almost. Because, the metatron didn’t give into such frailties. That would indicate weakness. And the metatron was anything but weak. What would people think if the voice of God was seen as weak, after all?
“You didn’t expect what, Dante?”
Dante looked off into the distance, looking literally into the depths of hell. “I didn’t expect being a watchdog for the Border. Surely, my talents are better suited elsewhere?”
“Surely.”
Dante waited for Gabriel to continue speaking, explaining why exactly one of the higher rank of seraphim was tasked with a job akin to a customs officer stationed at the U.S./Mexico border. Unfortunately, one didn’t come as Gabriel continued walking, his gaze looking into the realm of the hellgods.
“So?”
“So what?”
The frustration was almost evident in Dante’s tone as he spoke. One of the reasons Gabriel had chosen Dante for inclusion into His army was because of Dante’s inherent warrior mentality and nobility. Seeing him as he fought against unfathomable odds without hesitating, that was a rarity. Especially in humanity.
“Why am I here? I should be with my brothers, fighting in the war.”
“Your brothers are fine, Dante. You’re needed here.”
“But why? Why waste my talents on a task such as this?!?”
“Because this is where you are needed. You don’t question His reasons.” Gabriel turned his gaze from the eternal fires, now looking at Dante. “That’s like questioning why the sky is.”
“Wait, that’s not even a…”
“Besides. You’ll be called to the front sooner or later. So, why complain about why you aren’t there when you can use this time for contemplation. And if you’re really lucky, maybe one of them,” Gabriel nodded in the direction of the Border, “will try and cross. Then you’ll be able to use those skills that your father blessed you with.”
Dante gripped the hilt of his father’s sword, his gaze never wavering from Gabriel’s. “My skills are not a blessing. They are a necessity. Especially in this day and age. Tell me, why is it that their numbers grow greater every day while ours creep ahead at a snail’s pace?”
“It’s your imagination. The forces of good and evil are balanced. They…”
“You’re wrong. I’ve been at this post for numerous years now and I’ve seen their lands grow ever more populated while ours dawdle forward. If this keeps up, we’re not going to win this war. The hellbeasts will.”
Both men remained silent as they looked on at the events unfolding across the Border. Dante waited for an answer from Gabriel, but wasn’t surprised as Gabriel began to walk away from the Border, back to his post.
“Be well, Dante. Until we next meet.”
Dante never turned as he spoke. “Until next we meet.” He wasn’t wrong. The fires were growing brighter with every passing day. He wasn’t imagining it. Hell was going to win this war. Simply because the world was a veritable breeding ground for too many of their kind and not enough of his.
Sunnydale
“No. You’re dead. You’re…”
Glory chuckled slightly as she walked casually though the debris at her feet, as though she was an invited guest. “Come on, Slayer. You honestly didn’t think you could kill a God, did you?” Glory smiled as she continued. “Well, the old man thought he could. But as you can see, I’m still alive and kicking.”
Buffy remained still, watching in trepidation at what she hoped was a dream. Nothing but a terrible dream.
“What are you…?”
Glory answered Buffy’s question before she had a chance to voice it. “You know, the stuffy Brit with the glasses. Killed my Benji, he did. Thought that Benji and I were linked.” She folded her arms across her chest as she reveled in the sight before her. Every face in the room was the same. Fear. God, how she missed this feeling. “Guess he was wrong.”
“You’re lying. Giles wouldn’t. He…he couldn’t.”
“How would you know? You ran off to tend to the Key while gramps performed his little act of unwarranted euthanasia. Or are you still playing make believe that it’s your sister?”
“You’re…you’re…”
Spike could see that Glory was getting the better of Buffy. First the abrupt revelation of the hellgod’s well being, and now the possibility of Giles’ involvement in Ben’s death. It was time to stop this. Now.
“Where’s the niblet, you she bitch from hell?!?”
Glory turned her attention from the Slayer to the vampire. No, that wasn’t right. He didn’t have the smell of a demon on him anymore. He was something different. Something familiar.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Billy Idol reject. Didn’t get enough of my kicking your ass the last time?”
“Answer the bloody question. Where’s Dawn?”
“And what if I don’t tell? You gonna rough me up, pretty boy? Tell the truth, I don’t see that happening any time soon. Do you?”
“You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
Glory caught the look Buffy gave him as the words left his lips. She couldn’t believe it. “Well, look at this. The Slayer’s gone and shacked up with a demon.” She corrected herself. “Sorry, ex-demon. What’s the world coming to when the forces of good and evil mingle between the sheets? I mean, I can understand the two witches, but you two? Now that’s just wrong.”
Willow finally spoke up; Tara still at her side as she held on tightly to her arm as the memories of her previous encounter with Glory began to come to the surface. “And you’re one to tell us about right and wrong? You tried to end the world.”
Glory smiled as she remembered her previous conversation with Dante as he filled her in on the events that had transpired while she was absent from this dimension. “Way I hear it, we’re not that different, Princess. Although, copying me so blatantly. I don’t know whether I should be flattered or offended.”
Buffy regained her composure, moving closer to Glory as she spoke. “That’s enough. I don’t care why you’re here. I took you down once. I can sure as hell do it again.”
The laughter that echoed through the Summers’ resident was almost childlike. Nevertheless, the resonance left the onlookers with a sense of dread. “That’s rich. You don’t have your precious hammer. How are you going to stop me?”
Before Glory knew what had happened, she was sent careening back through the remnants of what was once the front door by means of a makeshift energy bolt. Buffy and Spike turned around almost simultaneously to see the source as the air surrounding Tara and Willow continued to crackle with static electricity. Tara smiled slightly as Willow gently squeezed her arm, answering Glory’s question.
“How’s that, bitch?”
“Willow?!?”
Willow smiled sheepishly to Buffy as she spoke. “No one talks like that to my friends. Even a god.”
Spike smiled slightly at Willow, a tone of respect in his voice. “Look at the bird. Got some real stones, she does.”
Before Willow could respond to Spike’s compliment, the ground began to shake. That’s when the front wall of the house fell away, Glory standing amidst the rubble.
“Enough of these games. You die. Now.”
Los Angeles
“Cordelia!”
Before Angel could move to Cordelia to catch her in mid descent as she began to fall to the hard tile, the flash of silver and gray graced his vision, the next thing Angel seeing was the ceiling of the Hyperion as he flew through the air. If it wasn’t for the stairs that descended into the middle of the lobby, Angel was certain he would have remained airborne. However, the sensation of concrete and plaster crumbling against his back was less than pleasant. At least it wasn’t wood. That was something, right?
Angel began to pull himself out of the rubble, the sight in front of him leaving him numb. The stranger held Cordelia in his arm, his free hand gently brushing away the errant strands of hair from her brow. He almost looked gentle holding Cordelia in his grasp. Then again, the bastard had just thrown him through three feet of concrete.
“She is something, isn’t she? Once human. Now something more. All because of you.”
“Put her down. Now!” The words sounded hollow even to Angel. But he had to make it sound like there was a chance he proved a danger to the silver haired stranger. Angel began to size up his opponent. He looked experienced and battle worn. The scar running the length of his face made that evident. And the skillful way he had dispatched Angel. This wasn’t an amateur. This was something different.
“I’m not going to hurt her.” The stranger smiled gently as his fingers gently traced the curve of Cordelia’s cheek. “Not yet, at any rate.”
“Who are you? And what do you want?”
“To the point. Connor mentioned you were a man of few words.”
Connor? How did he know Connor? “What are you…?” The stranger interrupted before Angel could finish his query.
“My name is Dante. And I’ve come for someone very special.” His gaze fell back to Cordelia as she remained in a catatonic state, her vision continuing to control her consciousness. Angel saw his opportunity. After all, you never turned your attention from your opponent. Especially a vampire.
Angel rushed toward Dante, the images racing through his mind. He would knock the stranger back, catching Cordelia in mid blow. From there, he’d play it by ear. Unfortunately, Dante didn’t seem informed to the intricacies of Angel’s plan since he caught Angel’s fist in midair, squeezing it firmly in his grasp.
Angel groaned audibly while he could hear the bones in his hand audibly crack under Dante’s grasp. Dante never looked at him, his gaze remaining on Cordelia.
“I can see why she did it.”
It was all Angel could do to utter the words as the pain continued to surge through his body. “What the hell are you…talking about?”
“Why she damned herself. Love blinds us all. Even when we know it does. Especially when we know the consequences.”
Angel swung his free arm forward, his fist swift and sure. However, Dante was swifter and surer as he moved out of the way of the blow, returning one of his own against Angel’s chest. As Angel fell to his knees, the blow’s impact resonating through his bones, Dante finally looked toward Angel.
“You should be more careful. That blow could have taken Cordelia’s head clean off had I not acted quickly.”
Cordelia? He knew them. The bastard knew them. Connor. He was behind this. Somehow.
“Whatever Connor told you, it’s a lie. His mind was warped by a man called…”
“Holtz. Yes, I know. I know of how he kidnapped Connor and took him away from you. I know that Connor thinks that you killed his so-called father. And I know that he won’t stop until you’re dead.”
“Then, why? Why take Cordelia?”
Dante looked at Angel, somewhat perplexed at the question. That’s when he realized the connection that Angel was undoubtedly drawing, since Cordelia was still in his grasp. “Oh, you think I came here for Cordelia? Make no mistake; she has her part in this. But I’m not here for her. Not yet.”
“Then what…?”
Dante gently placed Cordelia on the floor, his hand delicately placing her head onto the cold, uninviting tile. His attention quickly returned to Angel as he saw him begin to move back to his feet.
“You misunderstood, Angel. I didn’t come here for Cordelia.” Angel was now upright as he looked Dante in the eye. “I came here for you, Angel.”
Angel grinned as he saw Cordelia lying safely. Away from this madman. “Is that a fact? Well, the only way you’re gonna do that is over my dead, lifeless body. Figuratively of course since I’m already dead.”
“Of course.” A subtle smile graced Dante’s lips as he looked on at the vampire. “Let’s see what we can do about that. Shall we?”
All the while, Cordelia remained entranced while the vision continued to unfold.
The Border
The images were always the same. Flesh rend from the bone, the anguished screams of the damned, and the cackling of jubilant laughter. Always the same. Such was the intricacies of hell.
Yet, Dante could feel it in his soul. The hellions would inevitably win the war. Even with their hatred for one another and lack of real leadership with the various rulers of hell always trying to claim more of the domain for themselves, they would win. The numbers told the tale. There were more sinners than saints. Such was the way of humanity. Only the good die young.
“Tomoe.”
Dante could feel the sadness beginning to overcome him. Ever since his arrival, he had not seen his sister or his parents. Instead, Gabriel had guided him to his destiny. If you could call it that. Instead of being with the other Seraphim, he was stuck at the Border. In actuality, there was no safer place to be. After all, no one would dare to cross for fear of the repercussions. After all, even in war, there are rules.
“Come back here, bitch! We owe you pain!”
All Dante could think was what could possibly be happening now on the other side. He moved closer to the Border to see what was happening. Never mind that he didn’t have to move closer since he had the vision that could put the Hubble to shame. It was just that he was a man that liked to get up close and personal. There was no honor in standing in the distance.
Nearing the Border, he could see a group of Shion demons closing the distance between them and a human. A woman by the looks of it. They were probably going to molest her. The Shions always had a weakness for human females. It was nothing that Dante hadn’t seen before. However, as he began to make his way back to his post, he heard something from the other side that he’d never heard before.
“Your friend deserved it. She’s only thirteen for God’s sake!”
Dante slowly turned back, his attention focused more intently on the woman. And there it was, under her arm. A little girl. What was going on? An act of decency in Hell? That wasn’t right. Was it?
His pace quickened while the Border came rushing toward him. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t right at all. This wasn’t what Gabriel had told him when he first got here. The good were on his side and the evil was on the other side. That was that. But, in this case, it wasn’t. All because a woman was trying to save the innocence of a little girl in Hell.
Innocence?
“Get a hold of yourself, man.” The words were to convince him that this incident was nothing special. Unfortunately, the words were just that. Words. He knew the truth. This was something different. After all, there was good and evil. Shades of gray had no place in this realm. If it existed, what would be the point of the war? What if he had killed innocents during his brief time at the front? What if…
“Why do you care what happens to this whelp?!?” Dante stirred from his thoughts, the voice that sounded like thunder during a hurricane beginning to fill his ears. “You know what? I don’t care. First we’ll have our way with the brat and make you watch. So you’ll know what’s coming once we’re done with her.”
The woman protecting the child spoke, no hint of fear in her voice. “Bring it, tubby. I took out your boy with one shot. Didn’t even see it coming.”
“That’s because you gouged his eyes out with your fingers.”
A small chuckle emanated from her lips as the child remained close to the woman’s side, clutching her for dear life. “Oh yeah. That’s right. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll just back off right now. Actually, you look smaller than your friend, so what can you do to…”
The leader Shion increased in size, now towering over the woman and child, while his underlings cackled jubilantly as though they were Oompa Loompas on a cocaine high.
“…us?”
This isn’t right.
That was all that Dante could hear screaming through his mind as he watched the events unfold from his side of the Border. Someone had to do something. The woman was outmatched. And all she was doing was protecting a child. She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t…
Dante’s jaw clenched as he looked back over his shoulder. No one around. No one would know. Just this once. And, it was for a good cause.
At least that was what Dante felt in his heart.
Before he realized what he had done, Dante was leaping across the Border, his hand firmly on the hilt of his father’s sword. He landed between the woman with the child and the Shions without making a sound. Instead, he remained poised, his fingers tensing against the metal between them.
“Wha…what is this?!?”
Dante answered the leader’s question to the point. “Leave before things get worse.”
“Look at the little angel. Fuck off. You have no jurisdiction on this side, boy. Get out of my way before I make you regret crossing the Border.” Some have said that even Death would have backed down from Dante’s gaze at that moment. The look being neither angelic nor demonic in nature. The look was something worse. “You deaf, pecker? Fuck! Off!”
“No.”
The demon laughed as he charged toward Dante. “Enough games. You bore me.”
Dante’s arm flew from his side, the blade plunging into the demon’s chest. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to do any considerable damage as the Shion continued to charge at him at the females behind him.
The Shion’s mangled claw came crashing down onto the ground. However, Dante skillfully dodged it as he began his sprint toward the monster. He could hear the woman call out as he ran toward the demon.
“Stop! He’ll kill you!”
Too much. Too confusing. What was happening? The demon woman actually cared about his well being? A demon caring for an angel. Nothing made sense anymore as Dante dodged another fist, leaping toward the demon’s chest.
His hands clutched the sword embedded in the Shion’s chest, his feet planted against the demon’s chest. Dante whispered to himself his silent prayer as he readied his attack.
“Father. Give me the strength to be Heaven’s Justice.”
With that, Dante leapt upward, his father’s sword firmly in his grip. The blade moved smoothly, as though someone was cutting butter with a hot knife. The demon never got a chance to scream out in pain. Because, before the words would have had the chance to hit the air, Dante’s blade was splitting his skull in twain.
Dante landed gently on the ground beneath him, slowly sheathing his sword. The Shion’s minions began to scatter as the huge behemoth fell to the ground, one part to the left, the other to the right, while the remnants pooled in the middle.
He watched as the demons scattered back to the shadows before turning around.
“Are you two okay?”
The woman gently smiled at him, her eyes filled with doubt and confusion while she spoke. “We’re fine. We’re… Thank you. But, won’t you get in trouble for crossing…”
“I couldn’t just stand there and watch while those monsters had their way with you.” The little girl. He did it for the little girl also. “Um, the both of you.” The little girl remained near the woman’s side, looking even more terrified than before. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”
“It’s okay. She’s originally from this dimension. She’s been taught that all angels are evil.”
“She’s a hellspawn? But, she doesn’t look like one.”
“I know. She started mimicking me. Guess she hasn’t had that much exposure to humans. But, it’s nice to have friends, especially in a place like this. Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t even ask who our savior is?”
Dante smiled slightly, genuinely perplexed by the conversation he was having with a human accompanied by a hellspawn. “Dante. My name is Dante. And you are?”
The woman returned Dante’s smile, the confusion evident in her tone as well. “Haruna. Nice to meet you, Dante.”
Sunnydale
Glory moved quickly into the house, grabbing Buffy by the front of her shirt. Buffy’s head flew forward, crashing into Glory’s head. The disorientation was all that Buffy needed as her knee came crashing against Glory’s midsection.
Now, for a normal person, getting a Slayer’s knee in the midsection is akin to getting a cannon shot at you from point blank range. To Glory, however, it was more like a mosquito trying to pierce chain mail.
Glory grabbed Buffy’s throat, her fist reared back to crash down into her face. However, the hand that gripped about her wrist prevented her from doing so.
“None of that, now. Play nice or I’ll have to send you to time out.”
Glory turned back, a slight grin on her face aimed at her minor hindrance. “Oh, if it isn’t the vampire? Back for seconds, baby?” Glory pulled her hand away from Spike’s grasp. Actually, she tried to pull away from Spike’s grasp, realizing that she was having trouble breaking his hold. Maybe she was still recovering from being pulled back into this dimension?
Buffy took the distraction as an opportunity while she lifted her legs off the ground, kicking forward into Glory’s midsection. Why settle for one knee when two feet could do more damage. Glory released Buffy, Buffy falling backward onto the floor as Glory continued to struggle with Spike.
“Let go.”
“Make me, bitch.”
Glory turned back to Buffy, a hint of frustration tinting her voice. “Stay there. I’ve got to take care of your boyfriend first.” With that, Glory turned back to Spike, fire now in her gaze. “Round two it is.”
Spike never saw the punch. He felt it, though, as it crashed into the side of his face. Before he knew it, he was crashing through the wall of Buffy’s house plummeting onto the sidewalk. Painfully.
Looking up, he could see Glory making his way toward him while he began to pick himself from the sidewalk. Unfortunately, he was slower than she was, Glory closing the distance between them as Spike tried to shake the cobwebs from his head. She probably would have gone to town on him if it hadn’t been for the force field now separating them. Force field?
Spike looked back to the house, seeing Willow and Tara standing in the hole that used to be the front door. Or the wall. He couldn’t really tell. Glory caught the look and turned around, knowing full well what she’d find.
“You witches are starting to get on my nerves!” Before Willow could quip about Glory’s eternal bad home perm, Glory’s foot came crashing down onto the ground producing a small seismic disturbance. It was enough to break the concentration of Willow and Tara as they stumbled awkwardly until the ground came rushing up to meet them.
Glory turned back to Spike, her grin now replaced by a vicious scowl. Things weren’t going as she had expected. She was just supposed to come here and savagely murder the Slayer and her friends. Was that too much to ask for?
Spike made his way to his feet quickly, the effects of Glory’s blow beginning to dissipate. He began to wonder how he’d even survived that blow. She was a god, and all she’d managed to do was give him a headache. The thought was fleeting, however, as Glory’s fists swung down onto the force field in a double fisted impact. The force field shattered like so many glass shards, Glory continuing to close the distance between her and Spike.
Spike could see Buffy running out of the house, ready to continue the fight. However, Glory would reach him before Buffy reached her. No choice. He’d have to bear down.
“Look, maybe I was a little off when I called you a bitch.”
“Yeah? Let’s see how off you are when I rip your head from your shoulders, you Billy Idol reject.”
Glory swung at Spike, every fiber of her strength behind the blow. That’s why she was awestruck when Spike caught her fist in midair, holding it securely in his hand. Spike growled softly, the words rough. “He. Stole. My. Look!”
Glory’s awe quickly faded, morphing into something else entirely, when she felt the fist across her jaw, she falling to the ground. Buffy stopped in her tracks as the scene unfolded in front of her. Spike had just hit Glory. Hard enough to make her fall to the earth. What was going on? Spike was human. Right?
Her hand went quickly to her lip, her eyes never leaving the vampire. She could taste it in her mouth and feel it on her skin. Glory brought her eyes to her hand, seeing the reddish black substance that was now streaked against the skin. Blood. God’s blood.
“What the hell are you?!?”
Spike looked quickly to Buffy, seeing the fear in her eyes as well. He didn’t know what he was. But, if it was enough to protect Buffy, then so be it.
“I…I don’t…”
Glory didn’t wait for an answer. She bolted from the ground, her fist catching Spike across the chin. Spike stumbled backward, returning a blow of his own. Meanwhile, Buffy stood in shock as Spike traded blows with a god.
Los Angeles
Angel rushed forward, his shoulder crashing into Dante’s midsection. Before Dante could react, Angel’s head flew upward, the crown of his skull smashing into Dante’s chin. Dante stumbled backward, a somewhat surprised look in his eyes. Angel had him where he wanted him. Now, he just had to keep the upper hand.
His leg flew from underneath him, the heel connecting with Dante’s temple. While Angel’s body completed its movement, the heel of his palm came in contact with Dante’s throat. He had hoped it’d be enough to knock the wind out of his opponent.
Instead, Dante just continued backing away from Angel, absorbing the vampire’s blows. Something wasn’t right. Why wasn’t the bastard fighting back? No matter. He had to protect Cordelia. There was no telling what this madman would do to her if he failed. He wouldn’t let that happen. Never.
“Come on. Don’t tell me this is all you’ve got going for you?”
Dante groaned slightly upon feeling Angel’s fist rebounding off his ribcage. “Oh. What’s that?”
“A cool haircut and a stylish scar. Because, seriously. The potato sack look. Not doing anything for you.”
“I’ll take it…” Angel’s elbow came crashing into Dante’s midsection, the vampire moving deftly, grabbing Dante’s arm and throwing him over his shoulder. Unfortunately for Angel, Dante landed gracefully on his feet, no hint of battle fatigue about him. “…under advisement.”
Angel nodded slightly. “You’re good.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“I knew it. You’re holding back.”
Dante chuckled softly. “That’s for me to know…”
“…And me to find out?”
“Something like that.”
Angel grinned at his attacker before rushing toward him once again. He hated to admit it, but he hadn’t felt this alive since…no, that wasn’t true. That was his past.
He pushed the memory away, leaping toward Dante as only a vampire in the lobby of a hotel could. Angel grabbed onto the chandelier, swinging forward before letting go. His aim was true, his knee coming crashing down on Dante’s shoulder. Angel expected the stranger to crumble to the ground after such a devastating blow, but instead, Dante took the blow, merely shuffling backward while Angel landed on his feet.
“What the hell are you made out of?”
Dante just smiled while he answered. “All in good time, Angelus.”
“Seems someone’s been doing their homework. But, I’m not him. Not anymore.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Angel began to walk toward Dante, his glance shifting between him and the circular couch in the center of the lobby. “Well, you know what they say. The bigger they are…” Angel quickly picked up the couch one-handed, launching it into Dante’s chest. The impact was enough to embed the stranger into the wall behind him, flecks of cement crumbling about Dante. “…the bigger the object to throw at them.”
Angel was beginning to believe that Dante was done for with that blow. After all, if someone threw him into a wall, it would take him a while to recover. The body was motionless. Maybe he had overdone it. The couch was a bit much, after all.
Dante looked almost lifeless as Angel approached him. He had to make sure that the stranger was truly down for the count. Because, frankly, putting him down had been too easy. Even Lorne would have put up a better fight than this guy. Angel leaned over Dante, his fingers touching the side of his neck, looking for a pulse. That’s when he felt it.
Angel groaned in pain when he felt the fingers dig into his flesh, squeezing. Then the voice.
“Is that it?”
Dante’s fingers squeezed harder about Angel’s dead heart, blood beginning to seep through the fabric of Angel’s shirt, turning blue into black. Before Angel realized what was happening, Dante pushed forward, launching Angel across the lobby and into the counter.
Angel slowly crawled out of the debris, his gaze locked with Dante’s. Dante slowly brought his fingers to his lips, delicately licking the blood from his fingers. Angel felt uneasy while Dante lapped at the blood with his tongue, the smile on his face growing.
“My turn.”
Sunnydale
Buffy wanted to do something. Anything. But the sight before her was unreal. She had fought Glory in the past and barely stood her ground with her because of the hammer she had acquired from Anya’s ex. But a hammer wasn’t needed now. Because Spike was holding his own with Glory, fist for fist.
Willow ran up to Buffy’s side, Tara close behind while the scene played out in front of them.
“Buffy?”
Buffy answered her friend’s question without ever hearing it. “I don’t know, Will. But he’s doing it.”
Tara spoke, a hint of fatigue in her voice. “They’re…they’re moving so fast. It’s like someone hit fast forward on them.”
Willow nodded, her gaze remaining on Spike and Glory. “We’ve got to get away from here. There’s no telling how much damage they’ll cause here.”
Buffy hadn’t even thought of that. She was too entranced with Spike’s fantastic feat. How was he doing it? Not now. Safety first. Questions later.
“Will, can you and Tara teleport us to someplace more desolate?”
The hesitation was evident in Willow’s voice. “I…I’m not sure. That’ll take some serious magic, and I don’t want that feeling again. I don’t…”
Tara’s hand gently squeezed Willow’s shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, sweetie. I won’t let you fall. I promise.” Willow smiled at Tara, feeling the confidence beginning to build in her.
“What about Xander’s construction site? Doubt they’ll be anyone around there at this time of night.”
Buffy nodded, her eyes never leaving Spike. He had just taken a headbutt and brushed it off as though Glory was giving him a love tap before returning a fist across her face. They were both bloodied and bruised, and Glory looked on the verge of killing everything in her sight once she got finished with Spike. There was no way he could keep this up. Was there?
“Do it.”
Willow and Tara nodded, joining hands while they stood side by side. While the two witches chanted softly, Buffy’s gaze remained on Spike and Glory. She could see that the fight was intensifying with every moment. Even the impact of their punches was beginning to resonate more loudly than before. What had Spike become?
Before she knew it, a ring of blue energy shot from beneath Tara and Willow’s feet, expanding outward until it encompassed Spike and Glory. Neither seemed aware of what was happening, each refusing to back down. Without even giving glowing aura now about them a second thought, the lawn was now empty, a crackle of energy remaining in the night air.
The figure stepped from the shadows, his curiosity piqued.
“So, he’s beginning to show signs. Still, he’ll probably need help with the hellgod.”
With that, Gabriel stepped onto the lawn, gently sniffing the night air. After he was convinced of the trajectory of the witches’ spell, Gabriel’s body engulfed itself in a white aura before he, himself disappeared as well.
Los Angeles
“Alright then. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Angel couldn’t believe it, but he was actually fearing for his well being at that very moment. With one move, Dante had put him out of commission. But, Angel didn’t have a choice but to fight. Cordelia needed him.
“You heard me. Show me what you’ve…”
Dante’s fist came crashing into Angel’s face, Dante’s free hand grabbing the vampire by the arm to prevent him from falling down. They were now face to face, Dante smiling slightly. Angel stared at him in confusion. How did he get that hit in? He was all the way across the lobby. No one could move that fast.
“How…?”
Dante threw another right cross against Angel’s jaw, blood beginning to trickle down his lip. Before Angel knew it, Dante’s fists were like jackhammers, pounding away at his body. So fast. Even Angel’s vampiric vision couldn’t keep up with Dante. He was a blur, each blow feeling almost like being struck by lightning. Repeatedly.
With his final blow, Dante lifted Angel up into the air. Angel slammed into the roof of the lobby, the impact upon falling back to the fall equally as painful. Angel tried to get up but found that his body wouldn’t cooperate with him. His whole body felt numb. It was painful enough just to arch his neck up to Dante.
Dante walked slowly across the lobby, the smile on his face no longer evident. He was somber once again, as though he was at peace. Angel struggled to speak, but only coughs laced with blood left his mouth. Dante kneeled next to the battered vampire, gentleness in his voice.
“I wouldn’t worry. Once you get some blood in you, you’ll be good as new.”
Angel tried to speak once again, managing to get the words out this time.
“Don’t…don’t….hurt her.”
“I told you before. I’m here for you, Angel.” Dante’s brow furrowed slightly as he reconsidered his words. “Well, in a manner of speaking, of course.”
Angel stared at Dante, confusion enveloping his countenance. However, the confusion turned to terror when Angel felt Dante’s hand enter his chest, bright light pouring from the wound. His screams echoed throughout the lobby, the pain unbearable. Angel could feel himself fading, slipping away from himself.
And then nothing.
Nothing but Dante’s voice.
“To whom am I speaking?”
Angel slowly opened his eyes, the sight before that of Dante holding a glowing sphere in the palm of his hand. The grin slowly spread across Angel’s lips as he spoke.
“Is that what I think it is?”
Dante answered Angel’s question even though his wasn’t.
“It is.”
Angel chuckled slightly while remaining on the floor of the lobby. “You know, once I heal up proper, I’m going to thank you by ripping your heart out of your chest and feeding it to you.”
Dante nodded approval as he stood up, his gaze never leaving Angel’s. Or, what used to be Angel.
“Angelus, I presume.”
Angelus’ chuckling turned into a full-bellied laugh even though the pain continued to course through his system.
“Let me guess. You’re gonna blackmail me into helping you by threatening to put Angel’s soul back in me. Right?”
Dante looked on at Angelus, not entirely understanding the vampire’s statement. That was, until he remembered the soul he held in the palm of his hand. Dante lifted his other hand over the glowing sphere. Then, without any hesitation, he snuffed it out.
“No, Angelus. You’re going to help me because I will it. If not, I’ll kill you where you lay.”
The threat from Dante meant nothing to him. Not at that moment. Instead, Angelus’ laughter continued to swell, the feeling in him one of joy. For he was finally free of Angel. Forever.
To be continued....