Warp & WeftBy Medea
Chapter TwoAndrew Murdoch entered the spacious foyer of the Trinity's lair, his childe, Nadia, on his arm. So strange that the city's ruling clan elected to remain in such modest accommodations when all was theirs to command. However, he quickly banished the random musing from his mind. He hadn't achieved his enviable position by passing judgment -- or, at least, by getting caught at it. He was a businessman, and he knew when to stick to business.
He noted approvingly that the humans had hushed when he and Nadia had arrived. Willow rose from her seat beside a dark-haired woman to greet him. "Murdoch. Nadia. Thank you for coming."
Murdoch nodded. "So, these are the Favored Ones," he observed, sweeping his arm before the entire group. As he surveyed the humans, his gaze landed upon a male seated beside the dark-haired woman near Willow.
Curious.
Murdoch's eyes narrowed slightly. It wasn't vampire, but...no heartbeat. Not living.
He cocked his head to the side, but was jarred from his scrutiny by Angelus. "Convey it to the clans. These mortals wear our sigil, a ruby on the left ear, just above the pulse point. They are not to be harmed."
"As you command," Murdoch acknowledged. He sensed Nadia beside him, still staring at the strange, unliving man, and acted quickly to cover her indiscretion. "My lords, there are a few, small matters of business...if you are so disposed..."
Spike arched an eyebrow, then gestured toward a recessed doorway on the far side of the lobby. "In our office," he assented. To the assembled humans, he added, "Start the party without us; shouldn't take long."
With a gentle tug on Nadia's elbow, Murdoch said, "Come, my dear."
She started, so intently had she been fixated on the lifeless man -- or so Murdoch thought. He was corrected in his assumption when his childe leaned toward him and whispered, "The dark-haired woman...she is familiar. I knew her before."
*****
As Willow waited for Murdoch and Nadia to cross toward her, she caught Cordelia staring at Nadia.
"I know her from somewhere," Cordy murmured.
Willow spied the same, intense concentration in Nadia's eyes and hoped Cordy hadn't seen Nadia slaughtering someone in one of her visions. Saying nothing for the moment, she guided the two vampires downstairs to the newly outfitted council chamber she and her Mates had created once they'd resolved to govern the clans. She, Angel and Spike had agreed that it would be wise to keep clan business separate from Angel Investigations -- thus, no sharing of office space. Moreover, the chamber itself was part of their display of power.
The walls were smooth concrete, part of the hotel's foundation: utilitarian, but far from drab. In a thin band that wrapped around the entire room about shoulder height, Willow had etched a series of protective runes to prevent any sabotage or attacks. Attuned to her magic, they glowed red and gold in her presence, like embers in a fire.
Punctuating the runes at regular intervals were smooth, black stones, twelve in all, embedded in the wall: an extra bonus from her decades-long tour, which had included several hellmouths. At the final one in Hadar, Ethiopia, she'd discovered a clutch of faroe stones that were remarkably accessible, and helped herself to several handfuls.
Thick, black, velvet carpet lined the perimeter of the room, while at the center was a vast, circular, concrete platform that rose eight inches above the floor. On the platform, twenty Roman chairs were spaced around the perimeter of the circle. The heavy U-shaped wood of the seats was weathered and gave the impression of antiquity, as if these arched stools had once supported senators or members of Caesar's house.
Spike and Willow each took a seat and Angel gestured for Nadia and Murdoch to do likewise. After a slight hesitation at the unconventional arrangement -- there was no clear indication of primacy -- they did.
"What is your concern?" Angel asked as he eased down onto the seat to Willow's right.
"My l--" Murdoch began, before catching himself and dispensing with the traditional honorifics. "If I may be blunt, it is rather your concern -- or it has become so, since you claimed leadership of the clans. It involves the human black market."
Willow's brow furrowed. "Humans have always been dealing on the black market. What does that matter to us?"
"This isn't simply a matter of humans doing their usual trading. The trade is *in* humans," Murdoch clarified.
"There's a black market trade...*in* humans...*by* other humans?"
Willow managed to keep her voice neutral, revealing no more than the curiosity of one who had been away for a long time. And certainly, after the things she had seen in the demon communities she'd visited, there was little that shocked her any more. However, balancing her human remnant against her demon had always been a challenge, and whenever she was confronted with the reality of human cruelty and human atrocities, it just made things that much more difficult for her. In a way, although she took it in stride when humans demonstrated their capacity for evil, somewhere deep inside, she felt a small part of herself slip away.
"In a manner of speaking," Murdoch acknowledged. "The fools are forever trying to manufacture their own immortality. You knew of the spread of AIDS before you left on your travels, yes?"
Willow nodded.
"Other diseases followed: new, more resistant strains of hepatitis and tuberculosis, a host of retroviruses even deadlier than AIDS, with predictable results. The panic has been entertaining, actually," Murdoch remarked with a slight smile, before continuing. "The diseases don't affect us directly; they hardly change the taste of the blood. But they've led to shortages of clean blood in the hospitals...a situation the organizers of this black market have undertaken to remedy through 'unconventional' methods. They began harvesting in Los Angeles a few months ago. In the affected neighborhoods, people stay inside at night or travel in large groups. It makes for difficult hunting, and was already provoking clashes between clans before you claimed the city."
"And if we don't resolve the matter, it will undermine our rule," Angel concluded. Murdoch inclined his head deferentially.
"Humans trading humans," Willow murmured.
"Humans trading raw materials," Spike corrected. "I've heard about this ring. Thought they stuck to the backwaters, real isolated places -- lower incidence of disease. Must be makin' a fortune. Clean blood, uncontaminated organs -- all pretty hard to find these days. Hospitals've gotta use synthetic organs, mostly, but they break down after ten years or so. And that synthetic blood isn't much better than water."
Comprehending, Willow arched an eyebrow. "But money can buy anything."
"The wealthier humans pay handsomely for authentic, untainted blood or organs for their medical needs. The black market networks generate the supply to meet the demand," Murdoch confirmed. "In the process, they've disrupted our hunting grounds."
Spike stretched his legs out before him and folded his hands low across his lap: the picture of boredom. "So why the bloody bother? Why not just eat them?"
Angel furrowed his brow in contemplation and shook his head. "Something like this would be too organized for that. Kill some, and more show up in their place."
Locking eyes with Angel, Murdoch added gravely, "And they know about vampires. Some clans have already tried to eliminate the interlopers, but the humans come prepared. They know what destroys us."
"And we know what destroys them," Angel countered darkly enough to send a chill down Willow's spine. "But we've been at it longer than they have." After a brief pause, Angel rose to his feet, prompting the others to follow suit. Fixing Murdoch with a steady gaze, he said, "You did well to inform us. Tell the clans it will be dealt with."
Murdoch bowed slightly. "As you command."
Discerning from Angel's stance that this was something they would continue discussing later, in private, Willow and Spike gestured for Murdoch and Nadia to follow them back to the lobby. Willow was concerned for Angel. His tone held shades of Angelus, and he seemed deeply troubled by the situation, although he masked it with sternness.
Feeling protective of her Mate, Willow caught Angel's eye and frowned questioningly.
His eyes slipped shut momentarily, then he returned her gaze, acknowledging her concern with a slight nod. He lifted his chin slightly, as if to nudge her up toward the lobby.
Willow's brow furrowed and she pursed her lips, but Angel merely nodded toward the stairs once more, then turned his back.
Unwilling to make her uneasiness too obvious in front of Murdoch and Nadia, Willow resigned herself to escorting them out and leaving Angel to his thoughts for the moment. It was clear that something weighed heavily on his mind, and she could only hope that he would be willing to talk about it later.
She paused one last time by the door and traced her hand lightly over the runes etched into the wall. Compassion for her troubled Mate welled up in her. Hoping to ease his mind at least a little, Willow stirred the vortex of natural magic created by the runes and flooded the room with healing power. As one of the most basic principles of natural magic, it would continue on its own for quite some time without needing Willow's supervision.
A pleasant euphoria hit her as the laws governing magic magnified the effects threefold upon her, and she ascended the stairs to rejoin her guests.
*****
The lobby was buzzing with lively conversation when the vampires re-emerged. A few bottles of red wine sat open on the counter to the office, while one rested at Cordy's side by the elegant, velvet lounge. Jesse, Loïc and the human Willow were back in the office, thumbing through Cordy's old, well-worn rolodex, and Willow's sensitive, preternatural hearing picked up the words "Thai" and "delivery". Cordy sat on the floor, between Dennis's knees, as he massaged her neck and shoulders. Tara and Zoe weren't immediately visible, although Willow sensed heartbeats out in the courtyard. Meanwhile, Hannah and Cyrene seemed engrossed by the movie listings in the newspaper.
"Mm...right there, Dennis," Cordelia murmured. "I think you found a knot."
"What are you doing with a knot? I thought this was a vision-free weekend," Dennis teased as he kneaded her shoulder blade.
Willow grinned. They worked well together. Cordy and Dennis had a relaxed playfulness about them. Willow thought back to her human life in Sunnydale, and fought to contain a bemused sigh at how Dennis was absolutely unlike anyone she would have imagined Cordelia Chase ending up with. But, then, she supposed none of them had turned out as she'd expected when she'd viewed the world through sixteen year-old eyes.
Blinking, she snapped out of her reverie and noticed that, once again, Nadia and Cordy were exchanging curious glances. The brunette Seer pouted in contemplation, then demanded abruptly, "Ellington Agency?"
Nadia frowned in puzzlement.
Cordy shrugged. "Sorry. You remind me of a fashion photographer I met when I still thought I wanted to be a model or an actress."
With a thoughtful lift of the eyebrows, Nadia acknowledged, "Actually, I was a photographer before." She nodded toward her sire and said, "Murdoch and Associates."
"That was it!" Cordy exclaimed, slapping her hand against the floor. She reached for her glass of wine, then paused when she'd raised it halfway to her lips. Frowning, she recalled, "The agent there said I looked too sultry, whatever that means."
"Hey, don't knock sultry," Willow countered, her eyes twinkling. "There's a lot to be said for sultry."
Spike nuzzled her neck. "Luv, on you, anything looks good."
Still euphoric from the magic she'd summoned downstairs, Willow swayed a little and pulled him down for a long, sensual kiss.
Cordy rolled her eyes but said nothing.
After a pause, Murdoch, who had been quietly scrutinizing Dennis, ventured, "You intrigue me. If I may be so bold...what are you?"
Dennis lowered his eyes bashfully, although his physiology didn't really enable him to blush. "Recorporealized ghost," he explained. When Murdoch continued to stare expectantly at him, Dennis added, "Kind of a long story. I got mixed up in a spell Angel and Cordy were trying to use on a Rithpur demon."
"Ah," Murdoch murmured.
There was an awkward break in the conversation, as Dennis and Cordy were clearly unwilling to discuss their personal life with unfamiliar vampires. Willow, however, was itching to hear the tale.
Turning to Murdoch and Nadia, she said graciously, "My Mates and I thank you for keeping us appraised of clan affairs. We had slated the remainder of this evening for private matters. However, it would please us if you would join us at Caritas tomorrow evening. Eleven o'clock."
"The pleasure will be ours," Murdoch accepted smoothly. Recognizing the dismissal, he nodded in farewell, then escorted Nadia out of the hotel.
Grinning mischievously, Willow reached for the wine bottle and looked around for an empty glass. She spied several on the counter to the office. "Don't go anywhere," she said to Cordy and Dennis. "As soon as I pour a couple of glasses for Spike and me, it's story time."
"And where is it written that this is any of your business?" Cordy challenged, lapsing into the haughty, dismissive tone of voice Willow remembered from high school. "You know, Willow, you really need to get over this unhealthy fixation on *my* boyfriends."
"For your information, the fixation was mutual with Xander," Willow retorted, playfully sticking out her tongue. She sauntered over to the counter, grabbed two glasses, and rejoined Cordy, Dennis and Spike. "And my interest is strictly intellectual. I was only thinking of telling Giles about it in my next e-mail, for his Watcher chronicles."
Cordy snorted. "Giles has known for years. Scholarly my ass. Admit it: you still have no life and have to get your thrills by hearing about mine."
"Don't flatter yourself," Spike retorted as he accepted a glass from Willow and clinked his against hers. "My Mate wants a bedtime story, so spill."
"Bedtime? I thought you vamps were nocturnal," Dennis countered.
With a sly grin, Spike murmured, "Red looks good in bed *anytime*."
Dennis groaned and slumped against his wife. "Sweetheart, tell them the story so he'll shut up."
"Ooh, ooh, this is a good one!" Jesse chimed in, hurrying over to join the group. "I wanna hear it again."
Cordy rolled her eyes, sighed and turned to Willow. "Okay, you know about Wolfram & Hart, the hemorrhoid of the legal system, right?"
//Los Angeles, 2028//
Through a sluggish haze, Cordelia vaguely registered the violent pounding on her front door. She didn't even flinch when the wooden doorframe splintered under the forceful assault and the door slammed open. Immobilized on the couch, she heard the sounds but was unable to respond. It was as if she were drifting in a fog above her own body.
"Cordy?! Cordy?!" came a frantic, familiar voice.
"Angel, she's over here," Gunn called out urgently.
Her body rocked limply as Angel shook her and peered anxiously into her blank, dilated eyes. "Cordy, can you hear me? Please...please be all right..."
"What the hell happened?" Gunn demanded.
"I don't know. I got a call, but the line was dead. When I hit *69, Cordy's number came up."
"Dennis!" Gunn hollered. "Did you see something?"
Cordy felt herself slip away from her surroundings. Darkness smothered her like a heavy blanket, but she couldn't even summon the energy to feel panicked. Things were happening, but she...just...wasn't...there...
She drifted for what might have been minutes, hours, or days. Then, without warning, a feeling of agitation stirred in her mind. A sharp, prickly sensation crawled down her neck. Suddenly, pain knifed through her and she was jolted into awareness.
There was shouting and desperate activity. Furniture tipped over or hurtled at the wall. Angel was there, struggling to hold on to some kind of talisman. Gunn ducked various projectiles and shouted something at three women -- Cordy vaguely recognized them as Willow's witch friends. They were chanting something in Latin.
"Angel, you've gotta get closer! The amulet needs to be practically on top of that thing for the spell to make it solid," Gunn urged.
"I'm trying!" Angel barked in frustration. "The Rithpur is repelling me -- it's using my body mass against me."
"Well, try harder! We don't know how much longer Cordelia's got. That damn thing could've sucked her entire life away by now!"
The dark vampire threw all his weight forward and his face contorted with sheer desperation. He couldn't budge. Angrily, he growled, "It's too strong!"
Abruptly, the amulet was tugged from Angel's grip by an invisible force. Before he could protest, it flew through the air to hover near Cordy's head. As the witches continued chanting, a hideous, squid-like demon began to materialize on Cordy's face, its tentacles wrapped around her skull.
To everyone's astonishment, a dark-haired man with a boyish face also began to materialize beside Cordelia, the amulet in his hand.
He was stark naked and seemed just as shocked as everyone else.
Thrown off by the unexpected development, Angel hesitated, but only for a moment. An instant later, he lurched forward and yanked the demon away from Cordy's face. Gunn likewise sprang into action and smashed a heavy axe down on the vile creature, which emitted a long, high-pitched squeal, twitched violently, then went still.
Cordy jerked to life with a shuddering gasp. It felt like she'd been thrust back into her body. In a flash, Angel was by her side, gently grasping her hand in his. "Cordy...are you okay?"
"Yeah," she breathed, blinking in slight disorientation. "I'm good...I just need to...whoa! What the hell was that thing?"
"A Rithpur demon," Angel explained, steadying her. "They feed on psychic auras. Courtesy of our least favorite law firm."
"Feed? You mean that thing was brain sucking me?!" Cordy exclaimed.
Grimly, Angel nodded. "They're still trying to get to me through the people I care about. They summoned the Rithpur knowing that as a Seer, you'd be like blood in water to a shark."
"Eww! Mental image, Angel," Cordy protested, slowly raising herself up to a seated position. She winced and massaged her forehead. Only then did it register in her still-hazy mind that there was a naked man standing a few feet away.
He stared at his hands in shock, turning them over, curling and extending his fingers, seemingly oblivious to everyone else in the room and absolutely unconcerned about his state of undress. Slowly, he brushed his right hand along his left arm, eyes rapt with wonder. He poked his index finger against his forearm: first, a light tap, then with increasing force. At the solid resistance of his flesh, the boyish-looking man grinned in delight. Cordy, Angel, and Gunn observed him warily.
Cordy frowned in concentration as she put two and two together. Finally breaking the awkward silence, she whispered, "Dennis?"
The sound of her voice snapped him out of his awed perusal of his own hands and he blinked at her. "C-Cordelia? You're safe?"
They were the first words Dennis Pearson had spoken in eighty-two years.
//Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles, Present Day - 2034//
Cordy paused, shook her head and smiled fondly. "That has to go down as one of my weirder days, which is saying a lot." Glancing over her shoulder at Dennis, she added. "But it was the start of something pretty good."
Willow felt a dizzy grin stretch across her face and her eyes twinkled. "How does this work, exactly?" she asked, gesturing to Dennis, who was still gently massaging Cordy's back. As he pressed down on a particularly tight knot, Cordy let out a soft moan.
"Sounds like it works well enough," Spike commented with a smirk.
Cordy rolled her eyes in disgust.
"It took some getting used to," Dennis admitted. Smiling thoughtfully, he ran his hands lightly over Cordy's shoulders and down her arms. "There are definite benefits to being able to connect with solid things again." After a pause, he frowned slightly. "I *had* kind of gotten used to being able to pass through walls, though. Sometimes I miss it."
"No kidding!" Cordy blurted out. She leaned forward, with a curt, emphatic wave of the hand, and locked eyes with Willow. "Do you know what he does when he gets upset? He stomps around the apartment and opens all the doors: kitchen cabinets, closets, the medicine chest. He. Even. Flips. Up. The. Toilet. Seat. The whole poltergeist routine has got to be the most irritating habit ever."
"Hey!" Dennis protested, giving her shoulders a gentle nudge. "Do I talk about *your* bad habits in front of everyone?"
Ignoring him, Cordy continued, "It's like he's taking it out on anything remotely resembling a physical barrier."
"That mean he goes after your knickers, too, then?" Spike drawled, his eyes narrowing slyly.
"How original -- innuendo from Spike," Cordy retorted, arching an eyebrow in weary disdain.
Struggling to keep a straight face, Willow sighed, "I know. It's one of his most irritating habits."
"What?!" Spike snorted, feigning wounded pride, although Willow caught the playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "That's nothing compared to your bad habits. You hog Peaches."
"Since when?" Willow challenged, folding her arms across her chest and blinking expectantly at him.
"Oh, don't think I don't notice," he declared haughtily. Leaning toward Dennis in imitation of Cordy's earlier, gossipy gesture, the blond vampire confided in a stage whisper, "Throws her leg over him when we're sleepin', plays footsies with him. Won't let anyone else so much as squeeze in."
"I do not!" Willow guffawed in protest.
"I so did not need to hear this," Jesse muttered, shaking his head and blushing fiercely. "I really could have survived without knowing about my boss's sleeping habits, or any other habits for that matter."
"Oh, you wanna hear about irritating habits?" Spike began, willfully disregarding Jesse's panicked expression as the young man raised his hand to forestall any further revelations.
Seeing an opportunity to excuse herself, since Willow knew Spike could regale poor Jesse about Angel's personal flaws for hours, Willow got up and glanced long and hard at the stairway down to their council chamber. Angel had yet to emerge. For a moment, she considered going to check up on him, but their earlier, unspoken exchange had made it clear that he wanted time to think.
So, instead, Willow wandered out to the courtyard where her coven sisters, Zoe, Loïc and young Willow were feasting on Thai food. They sat on the tiled path that wrapped around the small, central fountain, passing white cartons to each other and alternating between moans of culinary appreciation and easy conversation.
"Hey, me!" Willow's human namesake greeted her brightly.
Willow smiled back fondly. Aside from the raven-dark hair she'd inherited from her father, Will -- as she liked to be called -- could easily have been Hannah's twin. Indeed, at eighteen, she was just about the age that Hannah had been when Willow had first met her...the last night of her life. The realization prompted a twinge of regret in the red-headed vampire: for humans, this was the closest they came to immortality. Just another reminder that her friends were growing older each day, and would eventually pass away while she remained.
She suddenly missed Giles.
Brushing aside her melancholy, Willow answered, "Hey, myself!"
"Ooh, you got here just a second too late. I think we finished all the blood thai," Hannah teased with a twinkle in her eyes.
Willow snickered at the bad pun. Meanwhile, Will couldn't resist hassling her mother just a little. "Jeez, mom, show a little sensitivity. Special nutritional needs should be respected, whether they're health measures or part of a cultural or religious tradition. If Willow adheres to a sanguinary diet, that's her business."
Cyrene chuckled ruefully. "Will, don't try to out-PC your mom. You know you'll lose."
Grinning, Tara got into the spirit of the jest. "Maybe we need to start a new section in the Co-op, right next to the vegan, the macrobiotic, the kosher, and the growth-hormone-free organic sections."
Laughter rose from the entire group at the thought of a shelf devoted to vampiric needs in the coven's cooperative store. Willow, herself, chuckled at the image of leather-clad vamps strolling the aisles with shopping carts filled with pig's blood and alfalfa sprouts. She burst out laughing when a vision of Spike with sprouts stuck between his fangs popped into her mind.
"Actually, it wouldn't be so strange," Loïc remarked thoughtfully as he leaned against the base of one of the arches in the covered walkway surrounding the courtyard. "We do have a section for Wiccan supplies and mystic literature."
At this point, Zoe tensed and her expression hardened. Gazing sternly at Loïc, she reminded, "We've been over this before. We can't lose sight of the Co-op's original purpose. We're a model for resisting the corporate monsters. We could lose that focus if we start catering to the supernatural kind."
There was an awkward silence.
Will held a forkful of pad thai immobile before her mouth and gaped at Zoe. Hannah and Cyrene frowned sadly at their ill-spoken friend and co-organizer. Loïc glanced between Willow and Zoe, visibily distressed. Finally, Tara broke the silence and rebuked her girlfriend softly.
"Willow isn't a monster."
Willow had observed her friends' reactions with a sympathetic amusement. She appreciated their loyalty and sensitivity to her feelings, even if they were misguided. It was touching that they tended to forget her nature. True, she did have feelings. She could love and hate and mourn. But her demon gave her a high tolerance for insults, intended or unintended. The red-headed vampire was no jittery, fragile girl, quick to take offense. She'd walked the earth, first as a human, then as a vampire, for over half a century now. It took a lot more than a thoughtless remark about monsters and demons to get under her skin.
"It's okay, Tara. I *am* a monster," Willow assured her with a relaxed smile. Turning to Zoe, with a bemused gleam in her eyes, her voice completely void of malice, Willow continued, "Obviously, you have a problem with demons and magic. I do not, so I took no offense at the label 'monster'. I'm comfortable with what I am, so if you meant to insult me, you'll need to do better than that. I don't think you did, though. I'd like to get to know you better. We both care about Tara, so we have some common ground. I know Tara cares about you, so you can't be a bad person. You must have your reasons for feeling hostile toward the supernatural."
As Willow spoke, Zoe's eyes widened in surprise at the forthright response. Somewhat chagrined, the impassioned, honey-skinned woman nonetheless held her chin up and returned Willow's steady gaze with her own, calm, resolute stare. "It's not hostility to the supernatural," Zoe explained, taking a conciliatory tone. "And I'm sorry for coming across like that. I tend to have a strong personality. But when you've been committed to a cause as long as I have, you tend to dig in your heels."
Willow nodded, understanding completely. In her own way, Zoe was a Scooby -- she just worked in a more mundane arena. Hoping to reach her on that level, Willow agreed, "I know what you mean. When you care that deeply about something -- or someone -- you can sometimes give an impression you don't mean to."
To punctuate her message, Willow glanced at the ruby stud in Tara's ear.
Zoe and the others followed her gaze. Tara's girlfriend pursed her lips momentarily before permitting herself a small, wry grin.
"Point taken."
There was another pause in the conversation. Willow heard the symphony of heartbeats surrounding her slow down, a good sign that the earlier tension had diminished.
"So, you'll be dropping by to visit the Co-op tomorrow night, then?" Hannah ventured lightly, arching an eyebrow coyly as she began to stack the empty food containers.
Grinning broadly for a moment, Willow nonetheless sighed regretfully and begged off. "I can't. Angel, Spike and I have to do some vamp stuff. There's trouble brewing with the clans."
Cyrene frowned in concern. "Anything we should know about?"
Willow grew solemn and she realized from the slight jump in Cyrene's heart rate that her expression must look grim indeed. Will, who had been gathering all the paper cartons into a plastic bag, stopped and waited expectantly, as did everyone else. The red-headed vampire resigned herself to the fact that it would be better for them to know than not know.
She was just glad they'd already eaten. This wasn't exactly pleasant dinner conversation.
"Murdoch -- the vampire who was here earlier -- said there was concern among the clans about their hunting grounds," Willow began, navigating the issue of killing as delicately as possible. It was one thing to laugh about blood being stocked in a grocery store right beside the kosher foods. It was an altogether different matter to discuss with her human friends the reality of how most vamps procured their blood. "It seems that in some districts, hunting has been disrupted by a black market...one that deals in..."
Pausing to search for the right words, Willow was spared from having to say it herself when Zoe finished quietly, "It deals in human organs and blood."
Astonished, Willow blinked at her. "You know about it?"
To her surprise, the entire group nodded.
"It's pretty covert. We know it exists, but other than that, information is hard to come by," Tara explained.
Loïc wrapped one arm protectively around his daughter's shoulder and added, "About all we know is that the organization behind it is global, and very well connected. Isolated efforts to combat it have failed."
"The most we've been able to do is educate people through our network on how to protect themselves," Hannah added, reaching out to squeeze Will's hand.
"Network?" Willow echoed, glancing in confusion at her companions.
Zoe flashed her a proud, ironic grin. "The Co-op is more than just a health-food store. We're part of an entire alternative society. Through the internet and personal contacts, we stay in touch with all kinds of activist groups and independent producers. You brought your friends here tonight so you could look out for them. It works both ways. Let us show you how we can help you."
Their eyes locked, and Willow arched her eyebrow at Zoe's amiable, albeit aggressive, challenge. "I guess it looks like I'll be swinging by the Co-op, after all. The night after next, though -- Angel, Spike and I still have business."
"Then I guess it looks like we'll be stocking up on the O-positive, after all, too -- right next to the tofu," Tara teased with a grin.
"Uh uh," young Will disagreed. "With the ginseng. Blood is the vamp equivalent of an all-natural stress-reliever and energy enhancer."
Willow laughed with her friends and glanced in toward the lobby, just in time to see Spike head toward the stairwell down to the council chamber. A quick scan of the lobby and a tentative feel through the bond to her Mates confirmed that Angel still had not ascended to join the relaxed gathering. Willow let her relieved gratitude travel along her empathic channel to Spike. She'd give him ten minutes to check up on Angel before joining them.