Go TeamC/A
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CHAPTER 27 The Factory, Westside, Sunnydale
“Tell your sire to back off,” Angel’s growl added to the underlying threat. His fangs were inches away, jagged and gleaming white against his bloodied lip.
Simultaneously terrified and turned on, Isobel focused on the red clot and shuddered at the thought of licking that small wound clean, tasting the power of his blood. Her tongue seductively traced the seam of her lips, but he seemed immune to her beauty and obvious interest.
The threat was real and she was no different in his eyes than the minions he had already defeated. Suddenly Isobel was afraid. She should lie to him, she considered. Tell him anything. But the truth might also sway his resolve.
“Angelus,” she tugged hard trying to wrest out of his hold. It served only to bruise her delicate ivory skin. Her voice still sounded husky, “We both know what he will say. Nothing will get in the way of his goals, not even you. I don’t want you as our enemy. Forget the girl. Join us.”
Anger poured off him in waves, intense emotion and aggression darkening his eyes. He could break her if he tried. The bruising hold was nothing compared to his full strength. Even now he was in control of his actions, but one wrong move might prove deadly.
Part of her wanted to see how far he would take this, entice him to further violence. Seduce him. He’d already proven he wasn’t easily swayed by her charms. Isobel was not the type to give up easily when it came to getting something she wanted.
It wouldn’t be easy, she sensed. He was obviously worked up about his human pet, if that was truly what Cordelia Chase was to him. Isobel wasn’t stupid enough to think this was all about Spike. Not with the reputed history between Angelus and the rest of his clan. For now, there was no choice but to listen to Angel’s demands.
The next words out of his mouth confirmed one theory. “Stay away from Cordelia. If I catch you, your sire or your hired mercenary anywhere near her, Drusilla or anyone else under my protection I’ll take it very personally. Understand?”
He let her go so suddenly that Isobel stumbled back barely catching her balance. Her hand went to her wrist massaging away the dull pain, but she enjoyed the lingering sensation of Angel’s touch. A glance toward Spike suggested he was waiting for his grandsire to lose his cool. Isobel could feel the tension from there, simmering under the surface.
“It’s you who fails to understand, Angelus,” she refused to call him by the shortened version of his name. It only served to distract Isobel from her plan to convince him to join them.
One thing she would offer truthfully. “The Crosathnam is dead. My sire killed him for his incompetence.”
Angel took a step closer, his voice softening dangerously again, “Will Nico be equally displeased with you?”
“Doesn’t bloody matter,” Spike cut in reminding them of his plans to put a dusty end to Isobel for the torture she’d put him through. They both ignored his rants, “Let me loose,” as he struggled against his bonds.
Angel had some reason for allowing her to warn Nicolau. Apparently, the fact that his uncouth grandchilde wanted revenge wasn’t high on his list of priorities. The girl was his focus and, as of now, Isobel’s, too, and not just because of the prophesy. Who was to say there couldn’t be a little fun before the final sacrifice? It made her wonder what it was like for Darla back in the days of sharing victims with Angelus.
For Isobel it was exciting to have someone warm and squirming between herself and Nicolau, crying in fear, pleading for freedom, for one last chance at life. “What is she like, Cordelia Chase? Warm, vivacious, full of life, as beautiful as her photograph?”
His jaw clenched, the muscles working as Angel bit back a reaction, the only outward sign of his anger. All that raw power was just roiling under the surface. She wanted to experience it, but knew her curiosity had gone too far this time.
Hot jealousy stirred inside her as Angel barked, “Get out before I change my mind.”
“Bloody hell. I’ve got a permanent score to settle with Blondie,” Spike’s outrage was evident, but Isobel was more interested with the way Angel reacted to her interest in his pet. There was something more to it than protecting property. She had a notion that Cordelia Chase was everything she described and more.
Isobel was unused to men thinking about anyone else when she was interested in gaining their attention. Nicolau would initially be amused by the news that the great Angelus had turned down her advances. Then he would be angry that she did not persuade him to join them.
The promise of wealth and true power did not sway him to give up the girl as a sacrifice. It had to be more that mere possessiveness. As Isobel scrutinized Angel’s motives, she came to a startling conclusion that left her wide-eyes when the idea hit.
“You have feelings for her.” Having backed away, her footsteps taking her closer to the door, she stopped short realizing that Angel wasn’t merely obsessed with his pet. He was in love with her. That went against everything she knew about Angleus. “The outcome will be the same. Cordelia Chase must be sacrificed as prophesied.”
That was a fact as far as Isobel could say. Nicolau might wish to put aside any scores that required settling between their clans and accept Angelus as one of them, but he would never ignore the prophesy. It was the one thing that had driven their kinsmen for hundreds of years. Now that they were on the brink of its fruition, nothing would get in their way. Not Angelus and certainly not his precious pet from Sunnydale.
“Get out, Isobel,” ordered Angel one last time. “You’ve said more than enough. Take the message to your sire and hope he has the sense to leave Sunnydale.”
Defiantly, Isobel raised her chin a notch to vow, “We will prevail with or without you. Nicolau is determined to gain what has been promised when this prophesy is fulfilled.”
“There’s a difference between stupidity and determination. Nico has always confused one for the other.”
Snapping, “Bastard,” she took another step back only to yelp in surprise as a hand wrapped around her ankle.
It was Tomas.
He lay supine on the floor, a mass of bruised and bloodied flesh, broken. Isobel had always had a soft spot for the younger vampire who fulfilled her every whim, often while risking Nicolau’s ire.
“Don’t leave me with them,” he woefully begged to be taken back to the lair not understanding how completely useless he was to her right now.
Isobel crouched low to take his hand in hers. Whispering a soft promise, “I will take care of you.” She glanced over at Angel who stood cross-armed, legs braced apart, glowering and waiting for her to comply with his demand. Maybe he suspected what she was up to, but he didn’t make a move to stop her.
Pressing Tomas’ hand across his chest, she firmly gripped his arm. Before he could react Isobel tossed his body onto one of the overturned table legs jutting up from the floor. An explosive burst of dust clouded the air.
She’d taken care of him as promised.
When it settled Isobel was standing by the door. “Goodbye, Angelus. The next time we meet I suggest you give me what I want— or there will be consequences.”
****
The heavy steel door slammed shut. Every passing second allowed Isobel more time to escape. Spike peered through swollen lids at Angel’s stony stance. Unmoving, he faced the door, time ticking away. He’d always liked the chase. Any second he’d take off after the bitch. Let her know just who he was and why he wasn’t going to let her get away with threatening Dru, or his lush little kitten—and not forgetting damaging Spike’s natural good looks.
Spike waited, but Angel made no move toward the door. Instead he turned toward him, fierce demonic features fading back to a human veneer. “Let’s go.”
“’Bout time,” he grunted. Ignoring the fact that he could barely move despite the loosened bindings, Spike was already envisioning turning the tables on Isobel. “Get me out of these chains, mate. It’s not too late to pick up her trail.”
When Angel matter-of-factly informed him that they were going to do no such thing, Spike thought he’d lost his mind. It wasn’t anything Isobel had done to convince him to let her go. No, this was all Angel’s lamebrain idea.
“That little bitch tortured me,” Spike growled the reminder as if the bleeding wounds and bruises weren’t enough evidence. His arm dropped heavily to his side as Angel released him from one of the manacles biding his wrists. Wincing, he slowly curled his fingers into a fist. “She hurt Dru.”
Angel unshackled his other wrist setting him free. The weighty chains dropped to the floor, but the support they provided was also gone. Wavering on his feet, Spike tried to maintain his balance.
“This isn’t the time for revenge,” warned Angel pulling him back to his feet. “I let her go for a reason.”
Stupidity. Good reason. All he had to do was follow her back to her lair, put a stake through her sire and end this. “Yeah, that got something to do with the Angelus act? Don’t think I didn’t notice you know all about Blondie’s sire.”
Tight-jawed, Angel glared at him, a darkness showing in his eyes that Spike hadn’t seen since before the Slayer sent him on a little trip to hell. He’d been soulless then and dangerous enough to scare Spike into a temporary alliance with Buffy Summers.
“Can you walk?”
Avoiding the subject was only making him more curious. Spike took a tentative step forward testing out the strength of his legs. “What makes you think he’ll give a rat’s ass about your threats? Not ex—,” toppling forward he let out a shout as his legs gave out.
A strong arm stretched out catching him mid chest and holding him up. Angel let out a grunt of irritation. “This is one reason we’re not going after Isobel. You’re too weak to fight.”
Bollocks. “Just gathering my strength.”
“But it’s not the main reason,” Angel said ignoring his attempt at bravado. “I made a promise to Dru tonight.”
Spike nodded knowingly. “She’s at the mansion.” He’d figured as much. Ran straight home to Daddy. “Let’s get on with it, then. You gonna give us our old room back? Good memories in that room.”
Coming to a halt, Angel let out a harsh laugh. “You’re not going anywhere near the mansion. I’ll set you up at my old apartment. You can stay there until you’re healed up.”
He gave Angel a weak shove. “The hell I am.”
“Dru’s safest at the mansion,” Angel knew exactly what he was protesting about.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want Drusilla to be protected. It was the idea that she’d be with Angel again. Even if her sire was all soulful at the moment and enraptured with the cheerleader, there was still that basic urge to be around him.
Spike didn’t want Dru doing anything that was going to get her staked. This wasn’t just a matter of protecting Drusilla. “You’ve got your girl stashed there, too. Well, don’t worry. I won’t hurt your little pet. Just let me see Dru.”
Hands on his chest, Spike tried to look sincere about it. Other than the obvious, he had no interest in Cordelia Chase. That was something he could put aside in order to ensure Dru’s safety. ‘Gelus could have his pet and he could have Dru. Simple. He started toward the door on his own hating that he walked like an old man in need of a crutch. No way was he letting Angel keep him from Dru.
Spike stopped dead in his tracks when Angel announced, “Buffy and Faith are staying there.”
“Quite the harem you’ve got,” Spike snorted. “No wonder you don’t want me horning in.”
Angel glowered at him and moved ahead to open the door. “That’s right, Spike. Now you know.” His voice smacked of sarcasm. “Now will you shut up and get moving?”
Spike kept on going. By the time they reached the Plymouth, he’d worn Angel down by convincing him that in his current state he couldn’t possibly be a threat to anyone at the mansion. With two Slayers around to keep an eye on things, there would be nothing he could do. Besides, he could be trusted. No, really. He’d kept his mouth shut when Isobel was trying to pry the truth out of him.
Hell, he might even offer to help. After all, it would be one way of getting revenge on Isobel and her mysterious sire.
“Fine,” Angel sighed resignedly as he opened the driver’s side door. “You can stay—conditionally. No matter how tempted you are to go for his throat, Xander Harris is off limits. The same goes for the watchers. Don’t bait the Slayers into a fight and try to keep Dru from doing something stupid.”
Smirking inwardly, Spike slid into the passenger seat and shut the door. Looking at the convertible, he commented, “Nice ride. You forgot to say what happens if I take a shine to Cordelia.”
Angel revved the engine. Though he said it with a smile, “Don’t,” his eyes glittered with deadly earnest.
~*~
Angel’s Mansion, Crawford Street, Central Sunnydale
“Go fish,” Xander smirked from behind his cards drawing a glare from Faith. He gave her a shrug. “Hey! It’s not my fault that I have no sevens.”
There were other games Faith would rather be playing and they didn’t involve cards or Xander Harris for that matter. Buffy was out patrolling the grounds while she got stuck babysitting Vampirella. She glanced at Drusilla who pressed her own cards to close her chest as if anyone would really bother to cheat.
“Your turn,” Faith sighed with boredom.
Drusilla took a peek at her cards then turned her dark brown eyes upon her as if boring deep into her soul. “I will have your fives, Slayer— both of them.”
Having forgotten what cards she possessed, Faith fingered through the handful of playing cards finding the five of hearts and the five of spades. She frowned. Two fives. Go figure.
While handing them over, the click of Cordelia’s heels approached across the parquet floor. “You do realize you’re playing card games with a seer. Dru gets visions, hello!”
Faith tossed the rest of her cards face-down on the table. “Screw this.” The fact that Drusilla won all three games suddenly made sense. Glaring accusingly at Xander, she barked, “You knew about that, didn’t you?”
Xander kept his mouth shut and shrugged earning him a smile and a pinched cheek as Dru leaned close. Jumping out of her chair, Faith warned her, “Keep your mitts off the goods. Angel told you to lay off.”
“Yeah,” Xander agreed and leaned as far away as he could get while still seated. “No pinching.”
A snort sounded from Cordelia. “At least it was your cheek this time.”
Keeping Drusilla occupied while Angel was away had been a challenge. At first, Faith had been amused over Xander’s enthrallment and his reaction once it wore off. What was it with that boy that kept Dru coming back for more? She was toying with him, but not in an obvious vampire-victim way.
“I can’t believe you three are playing cards,” Cordy’s irritation cut clearly through her thoughts. Mulling over Xander Harris was like trying to solve one of the mysteries of the universe, unfathomable, but potentially worth exploring. “Angel is out risking his life to save Spike.”
Faith inwardly agreed. She’d much rather be kicking some ass alongside Angel than playing babysitter. “Stop pacing and just chill, Cor. It’s not like he was gonna let any of us tag along.”
She understood what was bugging Cordelia. Not doing anything was getting to her. Willow was with Wesley and Giles planning some hocus-pocus defenses. They’d refused any extra help. Buffy was patrolling, which was a good thing because it meant she was out of their hair for the moment, but someone had to stick around to keep an eye on Dru.
Rising gracefully from her chair, Drusilla moved to Cordelia’s side and draped an arm around her shoulder. Faith watched every little move, ready for anything, but there was no sign of nervousness on her friend’s face. She simply accepted the comforting gesture as it was intended. “Do not fear for Angel, my sweet. He will return to us.”
The way she said it made it seem like there was going to be one big family reunion. Faith really didn’t like the sound of that.
****
The cobblestones crackled under the tires as the Plymouth slowly made its way up the winding drive. A small figure darted directly into the path ahead. Standing just outside the range of the headlights she was close enough to make out her familiar silhouette. Angel applied the brakes bringing the car to a halt.
Over the idling rumble of the engine, Buffy’s voice sounded out from the shadows. “What’s he doing here?”
Spike let out a laugh. “Lookee what we got here. Buffy Summers. If you’ve come to beat me to a bloody pulp, you’re a bit late for that,” he called out.
“What did I tell you about not baiting the Slayers?” Angel softly growled a warning reminding Spike to behave. “Don’t make me regret bringing you here any more than I already do.”
“She’s either the welcoming party—or the solution to your problem. Might as well enjoy it if she plans to have her way with me while I’m weak and helpless.”
Angel didn’t bother to respond. With that mouth on him, Spike was likely to meet the wrong end of a stake before long and he wasn’t entirely opposed to having a front row seat.
Approaching from the periphery, Buffy walked over to the passenger side, her eyes widening as she got a good look at Spike. Bloody and battered, he was a mass of bruises, scrapes and gashes. “Who did this?”
It sounded more like curiosity than genuine concern, but Spike twisted it to his own liking. “Jealous, luv? I’ve been having a little fun with another blonde.”
Ugh. Buffy glared at him in disgust. He was out of his mind, but Spike wasn’t the only one who needed his head examined. “Angel, you better get him outta here.”
“He’s staying.”
Buffy still wasn’t used to Angel having his own opinions. She guessed he’d always had them, but he used to let her have her way. That had all changed now that Cordelia was his girlfriend. God, it hurt just thinking about it.
Before choking up, Buffy quipped, “Then he’s your problem. See you inside.” Before either vampire could respond, she darted in the direction of the house.
“The chit is gonna spoil your surprise,” said Spike watching her run.
Angel took his foot off the brake and kept going. Surprise wasn’t exactly the right word for it. By the time they stopped in front of the mansion, everyone was filing out the front door except for Buffy who had apparently seen enough. He automatically sought out Cordy finding her leaning casually against the threshold. She hung back watching him from her elevated position at the top of the steps.
So beautiful.
One look caught him up in a swift surge of possessiveness. Seeing her waiting there for him, hazel eyes full of love and concern. All his earlier fantasies flooded back. His cock swelled hard, a low ache making his balls feel heavy. Christ, he wanted her.
Holding perfectly still Angel savored the way her skin flushed subtly under his gaze as if she knew the direction of his thoughts. He focused on her lips as they spread into a slow smile imagining their softness, anticipating the kiss he would give her when he got up there. For now, Spike’s arrival necessitated that he temporarily put aside personal indulgences.
Dragging his eyes away from Cordelia’s, he noticed that Giles’ mouth seemed to be moving. “Oh, for God’s sake, man, have you not heard a word?”
No, he hadn’t. His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he realized the extent of his distraction. “I…”
“Took a few blows to the head,” Spike pointed a thumb in his direction by way of an explanation. “Let the kitten fix him up with a bit of TLC and he’ll be right as rain.” He sent Cordelia a wink with the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut.
Standing next to the car, Willow glanced from one vampire to the other. “Looks like you need it more.”
“You volunteering, Red?”
She gulped loudly and then squeaked, “no.”
Wesley put a reassuring hand on Willow’s shoulder. He’d gotten to know her a little bit better over the past few hours, having been working closely with her on a few mystical defenses for the mansion. Knowing where Spike fell in the ranks of Clan Aurelius, he addressed his words directly to Angel.
“I caution you to reconsider this action,” Wesley beseeched him. Bringing Drusilla here, a highly unstable vampire, was dangerous enough. Adding Spike to the mix would only add to their problems. Though it appeared the younger vampire was riddled with injuries, it was only a matter of time before they healed. “You know all too well the kind of damage these two can inflict.”
Nudging past him, Drusilla bent over the passenger door to inspect Spike’s wounds. She licked at the blood in between kisses. “Let mummy take care of you. I’ll make it all better.”
Angel ignored them. Informing the watcher, “I’m counting on it.”
Still seated and waiting for his erection to subside, Angel ensured that the flap of his coat covered the evidence of his arousal. He wasn’t certain if Spike had tried to cover for his lapse of concentration or if he was just taking an opportunity to comment on his relationship with Cordelia.
Most of the group seemed surprised that Angel planned to use the other vampires to his advantage. “We can use Spike’s strength and Drusilla’s visions. I’ll take any advantage I can get if it means protecting Cordy and putting a stop to Nicolau’s scheme.”
The name distracted Drusilla from tending to Spike. She hissed, “Nasty man. He has poor Miss Edith.”
“Nicolau,” Wesley rolled the name over on his tongue. “The name sounds familiar.”
Giles’ jaw tightened up, realizing the reason for such familiarity. He had questions for Angel, but this wasn’t the most appropriate venue for them. “I suggest we continue this elsewhere. Faith, please escort Spike to his room and make certain he remains there.”
“It’s B’s turn. I’m supposed to be a vampire slayer, not a vampire sitter.”
Emerging slowly from the car, Spike joked through the pain, “Come closer. I’ll show you where to sit.”
Without a blink, Faith jabbed her elbow into his ribs. Spike grunted, doubling over and spitting blood. Just as fast, Drusilla backhanded Faith sending her reeling a step before regaining her balance. The Slayer lifted a hand to her lower lip dragging a hand across it, coming away with blood smeared across her knuckle and forefinger.
Through the white rage that flared up inside her, she heard Cordelia call out to her. “Faith, stop playing around and come inside.”
“Aw, c’mon, Cor. I was just getting warmed up.” Faith smirked and considered giving Drusilla something to think about. She took a step closer.
“Hey!” Angel leapt over the side of the car and put himself between the two females. “This isn’t the time for insults or tempers. Faith, can you deal with this? No violence unless it’s warranted?”
She pressed her lips together, clearly not okay with it. Every instinct she had urged her to slip her stake from the waistband of her jeans and plunge it deep into Spike’s chest. She’d save something special for Dru, the crazy freak. “Yeah, I can deal.”
“Dru, take care of Spike,” Angel ordered firmly reminding her of the fact that she had promised to behave. “I’ll send Xander up with some blood.”
Xander choked, “What? Why me? I’m not letting that thing near my neck.”
Behind him, Cordelia snorted, “Blood from the fridge, doofus.”
“Oh.” That sounded better to Xander. The idea of handling the container of pig blood was gross, but at least he wasn’t going to be Spike’s midnight snack.
“We’ll need more,” Cordy caught Angel’s gaze reminding him that their supply was going to run out with three vampires in the house. “What about some O-neg takeout from Willie’s? Wouldn’t the real thing help with those wounds?”
Wesley looked impressed. “Excellent suggestion, Miss Chase.”
“Geez, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Cordelia?” She rolled her eyes at him and missed seeing the flush creep up his neck. “Or even Cordy or Cor, like my friends do.”
Clearing his throat, Angel gave Wesley a hard stare. He couldn’t blame the watcher for being attracted to Cordy. She was beautiful, annoyingly charming and could twist a man up in knots without even trying. But she was definitely taken and Angel had already discovered that he was the jealous type.
“That’s very kind of you… Cordy.”
Spike chuckled as he advised, “Better watch it, ponce,” and then winced in pain as Faith grabbed his arm to lead him toward the stairs.
“Three flights of stairs,” she smirked. “Four if you count these. Gonna make it or do you need me or mummy dearest to carry you?”
“Sod off,” Spike snagged his arm away. “I’ll do it.” He stared down at the first step and willed his legs to hold steady. “Bloody nerve you got, Slayer. Makes me feel all unwanted.”
He looked up at Cordelia as he said it, playing for a little sympathy. She liked vamps. One in particular. There wasn’t a whiff of fear about her. And it wouldn’t hurt to get on the chit’s good side considering she was Angel’s little bed warmer.
Cordelia crossed her arms as she watched his approach. “Of course you’re unwanted, Spike, but come in anyway. Try not to bleed on the furniture.”
One by one, Drusilla, Spike and Faith filed past her followed by Xander who wrapped his hands around his own throat as if to say this was going to kill him. Cordy reached out to muss his hair. He yelped and jogged a couple of steps until he was out of her reach. Willow yawned, “Oz can take me to the butcher shop in the morning. He’s back from his gig in Braeswood.”
Scrunching her nose at the neighboring hometown of their rivals from Fondren High, Cordy huffed, “Like those blockheads have any taste in music—or anything else that matters.”
“History? Science?” asked Wesley in passing as he followed along behind Willow. He, too, paused long enough to get an answer.
“Duh, fashion taste.” Emphasis on stuff that matters, Cordelia decided to take it easy on him. He was kind of cute for a stuffy British guy. She flashed a little smile that made his jaw drop open a little. “Fondren’s cheerleading outfits are the essence of fugly.”
A heavy sigh sounded. Blocked from entering, Giles tapped on Wesley’s shoulder. “Do go in. Unfortunate designs in cheerleader fashion are not our chief concern.”
Cordelia frowned as she realized they were no longer her concern, either. She’d had to step down from her position as head cheerleader because of her father’s little financial fiasco. Now thanks to this stupid prophesy it was dangerous to go anywhere including school.
She put that thought out of her mind as her attention turned to Angel. “Are you planning to stay out there all night?” Below, leaning casually against the side of the car, Angel had waited until the others went back inside. Cordelia remained where she was, a sultry smile curving across her lips.
“Just picking my moment.” He pushed away from the car and walked toward her, too slowly for Cordelia’s liking. She’d been waiting all of this time to hold him, show him that she missed him. Now the anticipation of it made her shiver.
The shadows shifted revealing more of his face as he came closer. A gasp caught in her throat. “You look— are you okay?”
“It’s nothing. A few scrapes.”
Cordelia’s eyes narrowed as they traveled head to toe looking for any sign of further injury. She suspected the reason he’d walked so slowly had less to do with teasing her than because he was in pain. “Just how bad are these scrapes, buster?”
She crossed her arms, glaring at him as she waited for the truth.
“They’ll heal, Cordy. Vampire,” he pointed at his chest which earned him one raised brow.
“Don’t try to play tough with me. I know I said I wasn’t Florence Nightingale, but I’m not about to let my boyfriend walk around with festering wounds.” Making her point, she raised the second eyebrow and silently dared him to defy her.
Stepping closer, Angel felt his mouth twitch as he fought a smile. “I have to talk to the watchers about what I discovered tonight. You should be there, too. Afterward, we can discuss what’ll make me feel better.”
Cordelia quietly stared at him just long enough to make him wonder if he’d said the wrong thing. Maybe that hadn’t sounded as sexy as it did in his head.
“If—if you want to,” he added, now worried that he made her uncomfortable.
Cordy took a step back. She shrugged one shoulder. Sounding far too indifferent for Angel’s liking she said, “Maybe.”
Wanting to fix whatever he’d done wrong, Angel moved toward her only to run into an invisible barrier. “What the—?”
“Guess it works on you, too,” Cordelia’s curiosity was almost satisfied. When Willow had finished casting the spell, she’d informed her that it would only work if a human actually lived in the mansion.
“Hello,” she recalled herself saying, “last time I checked you guys were human, too, with the possible exception of Buffy.”
“Don’t you mean Faith, too, because they’re both Slayers?”
Willow obviously missed her point. “No.”
She supposed that Spike getting through the barrier after her say so qualified him as test subject number two, the first being Drusilla after Willow first cast the spell. Now there was just Angel who was staring at her in a way that suggested he knew why she was suddenly freaking out. Apparently staying in your boyfriend’s mansion and rescuing your worldly belongings from plastic trash bags wasn’t enough to qualify as actually living there.
Part of you had to believe that it was home.
“Are you going to invite me in?” His open hand pressed against the invisible energy barrier.
Two short steps brought her back to the threshold. Cordelia raised her hand and threaded her slender fingers through his. It made her vulnerable to any move he made, potentially allowing him to yank her outside, but he still couldn’t cross without her express consent.
“Welcome home, Angel. Come in.”
The moment the barrier vanished, he pulled her forward into his arms, their hands still connected. With an arm around her waist he twirled them around once so they were back outside away from prying eyes. Angel had his back against the wall, leaning at a slight angle. Slipping his hand from hip to shoulder blade, he brought them into full contact their bodies perfectly aligned.
Cordelia sighed against his lips, her warm breath coffee flavored. He kissed her, a soft sweep of his mouth across hers. And again as she opened up to the dip of his tongue, tasting, teasing its soft center. Enticing her to chase him.
She grasped his shoulders, held on. Squirmed against him because she couldn’t get close enough. Wanting to touch his skin, even if it was just a few seconds of contact, she maneuvered her hand down his chest. She paused at the hard nub of his nipple, rubbing over it twice and eliciting a low groan from Angel who was kissing his way across her jaw toward the chord of her throat.
He rubbed his mouth against her pulse, then opened up to drag his tongue and teeth across that spot. Her free hand cupped the nape of his neck. The other continued to tug the hem of his shirt out of his pants, skittering underneath to flatten her palm against him.
Tempted, her fingertips slipped downward reaching below his waistband just to touch the little curve of soft belly on his otherwise hard frame. Angel’s hips lurched forward crashing into hers. He felt so good. She wanted to be with him now. Upstairs in their bed. Naked. Skin on skin. Just their hands and mouths and whatever he was doing that set her on fire.
“Where’d they go?” Willow called out their names, sounding closer and closer, acting like a bucket of ice water.
Angel pulled his head away from Cordy’s throat, dark eyes darting to the doorway. He wasn’t about to move just yet even though common sense told him they needed to stop. Deep inside he felt the urge to keep going, let Willow get an eyeful so she’d go away. Moving his hands to cup Cordelia’s face, he gave her one final quick kiss and set her back on her feet.
When Willow popped her head outside to look around, she found them standing two feet apart. Cordelia no longer wore any lip gloss. Her formerly perfect hair was now in soft disarray. Clothes wrinkled. Standing with his back to her, Angel’s attention was at his waist—or somewhere below it.
Gaping as she realized what she’d just interrupted, Willow felt heat flood her cheeks. She darted away so fast that Cordelia started to laugh, her grin spreading wide. “I guess we should go in.”
Angel finished tucking his shirt in and folded his leather coat closed before turning around. Growling softly in frustration he willed his body to relax again. He looked over at Cordy who was still smiling, hazel eyes twinkling, her mouth slightly swollen and the soft skin of her neck reddened. Maybe the interruption was a good thing considering where he might have taken it. He wasn’t certain that tonight was the best time for added complications.
“Let’s go inside. I know who’s behind all of this,” Angel told her as he reached out to take her hand. “What’s more, I know why.”
CHAPTER 28The Mansion, Crawford Street, Central Sunnydale
“We’re dealing with an ancient clan of vampires,” Angel revealed with all seriousness, his mouth a straight grim line. The weight of this revelation kept his shoulders tense. “A group deep into the occult. One that will stop at nothing to attain the power they believe has been promised them.”
“Demon-worshipping vampires. How odd.” Giles found it strange indeed. “Your kind tends to be godless. Allegiances tend to be made for the purposes of profit and prey rather than submission to a higher power.”
Cordelia reminded him, “The creepy guy with the bone relic was a vampire.”
“That’s right,” Angel gave her credit for making the connection when it hadn’t even occurred to him until now that there might be one.
“The blood ritual was performed by a vampire?” Wesley looked toward Giles with a look of growing fascination on his face. Excitedly, he ticked off a short list, “Demon worship, strange rituals, prophesy. Good Lord, Mr. Giles, could we be dealing with the Banished Ones?”
Though he had been wondering the same thing, Giles shook his head and looked at Wesley as if the idea was ridiculous. Stunned to have considered it himself, he said, “The Council never proved them anything more than a legend.”
Wesley stuttered a bit at voicing opposition. “The—the references are rare, but—”
“Their legend is as real as mine,” Angel ended their posturing.
Giles adjusted his glasses. “Angelus’ legacy is deeply rooted in historical documents, and Watcher’s Council records, eye-witness accounts. Most of what we think we know of the Banished Ones has been based upon conjecture rather than fact. We think they once existed, but there has been no evidence of such in the entirety of the Council’s history.”
Striding closer, Angel challenged, “Because the Council knows everything there is to know about vampires?” He wasn’t in the mood to argue about it.
Holding up a finger to request a pause in the debate, Wesley skittered toward the study.
Neither Angel nor Giles questioned his departure. “The Council knows more than you might imagine. However, I am willing to concede that we don’t know everything.”
“Believe me when I tell you that I know who we’re dealing with.”
“You might also tell me that…that Xander is a direct descendant of Beowulf. Am I to believe that as well?”
Sitting at the card table, Xander looked over at Willow. “Who? A werewolf? Did he say I’m related to a werewolf?”
“Shhh!” Calming him down, Willow explained the literary reference.
“So I’m not Oz’ long lost cousin,” he grinned, relaxing again.
Angel and Giles were both annoyed at the interruption, but it gave the others a chance to chime in with their two cents on the matter.
“So what’s the big deal?” asked Buffy. “Banished or not, they’re still vampires.”
Cordelia had to agree. “And, hello, we have two vampire slayers to banish their butts for good.”
Lifting his hand to touch her cheek, Angel thought about the danger she was in, now even greater than he had first feared. His chest ached from the depth of emotions he felt when he looked at her. Demonic rage swelled within him at the thought that they planned to make her a sacrifice. A thread of that anger surfaced gruffly, “It’s not that simple, Cordy.”
“Why not?” Using Spike and Buffy as her examples, she pointed at each of them in turn. “See vampire. See slayer. Watch vampire run. Watch slayer stake vampire.”
“If only…,” Buffy sighed while tapping Mr. Pointy against her thigh.
Spike took offence at her elementary scenario. “Oy! We don’t always run. Some of us like to tussle a bit.”
“That’s why most of you end up clouds of dust,” snorted Faith. “Let me know when you’re up for a tussle. I’ll be happy to have you at the end of my stake.”
“That’s my line, luv,” Spike smirked back. Beside him, still holding him up, Drusilla’s smile suggested she knew it was all in fun. Until his gaze slid back over to Buffy who was standing next to them and he added, “Unless Blondie wants to give it a go first.”
With lightning speed Buffy jabbed Spike in the ribs with an elbow. He growled in pain and doubled over which instantly caused Drusilla to vamp out and start hissing. Buffy held her trusty stake at the ready. “Try me,” she bated the two of them. “Go on. Just give me an excuse.”
Holding onto his bruised ribs, Spike glared angrily. “What is it with you Slayers and jabbing me in the bloody ribs?”
Angel stepped in to remind Buffy that Spike and Drusilla were not to be harmed. “I asked you to play nice. All of you. Now stand back and shut up. This is important.”
Gasping, Buffy’s mouth clamped closed, her eyes wide with shock at the tone Angel had taken with her. “He started it,” she tilted her head high and turned away.
A bit cowed, Spike gave a curt nod. “Just having a bit o’ fun, mate. While we can,” he added somewhat ominously.
Drusilla calmly eyed Angel obediently remaining quiet as ordered. She led Spike a few steps back to a safe distance from both slayers, though Faith shifted to keep an eye on them.
“Those you call the Banished Ones belong to the House of Solaris,” Angel revealed to the group once the situation seemed settled. “Their betrayal secluded them from all contact with their own kind. It is forbidden to speak of them.”
“And yet we do,” quipped Xander nervously. After all, anything that made Giles freak out in that Giles-like way of his probably wasn’t a good thing.
Before he got into details, Angel waited for Wesley to reach them. He carried a thin leather-bound volume. “How much do you know?”
“Very little,” admitted Giles, taking the lead. “I believe Wesley has returned with the only known reference in my collection. I recall reading of a division among the great vampire clans. However, there is nothing to indicate why the Banished Ones were, uh, banished. Only that they were believed to pose a threat to all vampires.”
Willow wondered, “Why not just stake them or leave them out for the sunrise?”
“Evil little thing, aren’t you, Red?”
“Who, me?” Gulping, Willow shook her head. “No.” She thought it was a legitimate question. “If they were some kind of threat...”
Giles concurred, “Willow is correct. If the master perceived such a threat to his clan, it would have been more prudent to rid himself of it permanently.”
Angel didn’t have all of the answers, either. He’d had other priorities during his time at Darla’s side rather than learn about the past, though he vividly remembered all of the stories she shared.
Jumping back into the conversation upon his return, Wesley handed the book he had retrieved to Angel. “This is the Obscurantist Vampyr, a translation from ancient Sumerian scrollwork, compiled and bound by Franciscan friars.”
Angel skimmed over the reference material giving him a picture of just how little the Watcher’s Council knew about their enemy. Quoting passages, he read, “Evil battled evil causing a great division of the clans. The master of vampires cast out the traitor to wander the earth, his progeny banished forever.”
Raising his head, Angel asked, “Is that it? Hardly a detailed account considering the House of Solaris has existed for more than a thousand years.”
“Now that name is familiar,” Giles admitted, “but there is nothing to connect them to the legend of the Banished Ones. The Solaris Clan originates in Galicia, I believe, a rare breed not usually found in vast numbers or traveling outside their home territory. Known to be protected by the local humans for some reason. The Council was never able to determine why.”
“Because the mountain village where they keep their home lair is populated by other demon-worshippers,” Angel thought that much should be obvious to the Watchers’ Council that seemed to make it their business to know everything.
Anger roiled inside him. He felt torn between protecting his own kind and reviling them. Angel reminded himself that he was on the watchers’ side. It was in Cordelia’s best interest to tell them everything he knew.
“Perhaps this line is important.” Standing next to Angel, though nervous about the close proximity to a vampire, Wesley pointed toward the open page. The entire book was written in Latin. He’d been prepared to translate for Angel, but noted he had no trouble with it. Not entirely surprising, he supposed, but mildly so all the same. “The last reference on the page provides a warning.”
Angel hadn’t skimmed that far. His eyes shifted down the page. The words stirred a few rumors, things that were hinted at even in vampire legends, stories Darla used to tell him. Warnings. Her belief that he could protect her from anything.
Except himself.
Having taken too long to reveal the quote, Wesley told the others, “Beware the light-bringer.”
“Is that warning for us or them?” asked Willow peering at the book in Giles’ hands. Upside down, the words looked even more ominous. Gulp. “Maybe it’s telling us to use the sun against them. If we find their lair we could use mirrors to reflect the light.”
Spike muttered, “Red’s not only evil, she’s a freakin’ firebug.”
“Charred vampire,” Faith gave a thumbs up to the idea. “Haven’t tried that one in a while. I’m in.”
Buffy agreed. “Sounds doable.”
“Except for the fact that we don’t know where to find their lair,” Xander pointed out the hole in their plans. “Is there a listing for crypt and cavern rentals?” Chuckling at the idea, he held his arms up to indicate their surroundings, adding, “Looks like Dead Boy already cornered the market on haunted mansions.”
Angel wasn’t amused. The stare he sent Xander’s way shut the boy up instantly. This wasn’t the time for amusement. The enemy was dangerous and Cordelia’s life was at stake— and perhaps the lives of everyone in Sunnydale. With Nico and Isobel at the center of this, he had no doubt things were going to get much worse.
“What makes you so certain the House of Solaris is involved in this?” Wesley shifted from one foot to the other. “You mentioned a name—Nicolau.”
“Nicolau’s childe was the one responsible for Spike’s capture.” Angel told him before getting distracted by Cordelia’s wandering hand. The foyer light revealed bruises and scrapes on his skin that she hadn’t noticed outside and she started looking for other wounds. “Cordy, I’m fine.”
She pressed on a still-damp spot at his side where her fingers came away red with blood. “You call this fine? Pfft. How would you like it if I went around saying I was fine?”
“I suppose I’d believe you.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes, but kept on with her rudimentary examination despite the fact that Giles and Wesley were trying to figure out a way to interrupt and get back to the conversation.
It didn’t help Angel’s cause when he winced as she poked one of his bruised ribs. “Cor, stop, what are you doing now?”
“Obvious much? I’m taking off your shirt,” Cordelia started unbuttoning. “You’re hurt and I can’t tell how bad it is. Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m in it for the cheap thrills.”
Faith’s dimpled grin appeared. “I am. Don’t stop on my account.”
Sticking her tongue out, Cordelia told Faith as unbuttoned the last button, “Faith, I wouldn’t want you to get side tracked. You’re supposed to be watching Spike.”
“Cordy, this can wait,” Angel stilled her hands. The last thing he needed right now was the distraction of her soft, warm hands sliding across his skin.
With a sigh, she muttered, “Okay, but this isn’t over.”
Angel got lost in her eyes for a moment. He wished he could will everyone else away. Unfortunately, having Cordelia’s hands on him was too much of a distraction. “Later.” The word hung between them with an unspoken promise of more.
“I-I think I’ll handle getting Spike and Dru settled,” Cordelia decided as she backed away. “Come upstairs when you’re done with the pow-wow.”
“Not going anywhere yet, luv,” Spike refused to budge. “I got a right to hear this just as much as anyone else. How else am I gonna know who to kill?”
Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
Perturbed, Giles inquired, “May we continue now?”
“Sure,” Cordelia shrugged her permission.
Giles pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Go ahead, Angel.”
“Nicolau Cibran,” he explained to them, “is a favored childe of Solaris. Every move he makes is calculated toward achieving his master’s goals. Nico thrives on power.”
“Vamp politics?” Envisioning their big bad with ‘Vote for Me’ signs posted around town for the next election instead of ones for Mayor Wilkins, Cordelia doubted that tree plantings, mall openings and kissing babies were high on any evil guy’s list.
“Territorial power,” Wesley corrected, finding the study of vampire history and their social dynamics fascinating. “Vampires equate power to the possession of lands for hunting prey. The more powerful a clan is perceived to be the greater control they possess over selection of prime hunting grounds.”
Giles nodded throughout, adding, “Individual vampires can travel outside traditional territories to find prey, but they face the risk of poaching on another clan’s claim. Exceptions are made for vampires with more impressive pedigrees who supersede the rights of lesser clans.”
“We go wherever the bloody hell we want,” Spike told them with a growl, “and the locals can either join in the fun or go fuck themselves. We pick our prey whenever and wherever it takes our fancy.”
“Not impressed,” Cordelia gave him a hard state. She wasn’t about to mince words even though her boyfriend was a vampire. She reminded Spike, “You won’t be eating anybody while you’re staying here.
Spike grumbled, “Killjoy.”
Ignoring him, Cordelia thought she figured out Nicolau’s power play. “So, basically, Nic and his buddies plan to turn Sunnydale into their own personal bistro.”
Shaking his head, Angel told her there was something else going on. “No one clan rules Sunnydale. This is the slayers’ territory.”
“Beg to differ,” Spike gruffed and then quickly closed his mouth again.
Though he didn’t like talking about the subject, Angel knew it had to be done. “Nico being here in Sunnydale has a far more sinister purpose. Back in the earliest days of the clans, Solaris used to be part of the House of Aurelius until the master grew tired of his dealings with demons. He wanted power and made sacrifices to a demon lord in order to gain it.”
“Perhaps the same demon lord of the prophesy?” Giles concluded that the timing was suspect.
Angel nodded, “Nico’s childe confirmed it. The demon promised them something so powerful, so tempting, that Solaris broke away from the House of Aurelius settling for exile in order to attain it.”
Eagerly asking, “What was it?” Wes’ eyes glimmered with interest.
“I don’t know. Isobel didn’t elaborate except to say that the benefits pass on to all of their kinsman.”
“Ah,” Giles caught on. “The old blood ties between the two houses. The Aurelius and Solaris clans are essentially one bloodline.”
While Angel started to provide more details, Cordelia nudged him. “Who’s Isobel?”
“Nicolau’s mate. Didn’t I mention her?”
Cordelia folded her arms across her chest. “No, as a matter of fact, you didn’t.”
“Playing naughty games with my Spike. Tempting our Angel.” Drusilla let out a hiss, making cat claws out of her hands to scratch the air in Buffy’s direction. “Another blonde slut.”
Buffy immediately took offence at the verbal barb. “Hey.”
“Oh, really?” Cordelia’s gaze swept back to Angel who looked like he was suffering from stomach cramps. Instead of demanding to know the details of said temptation, she let out a soft huff. “I take it Isobel is responsible for the two of you looking like chopped liver. Never underestimate the female of the species—especially when it comes to finding stuff out.”
Angel wasn’t entirely certain whether Cordy was jealous or just teasing him about it. Clearing his throat, he explained, “Nicolau obviously trusts her to— ”
“Do what?”
There was that eyebrow again, quirking upward in that I’m-curious-but-you-better-give-me-the-kind-of-answer-I-want-to-hear way. “Run errands. A little kidnapping here. A little torture there.”
“A little seduction on the side,” Spike added causing Cordelia to spin around to look at him.
Snorting, Cordelia looked at Spike’s sad state. “Yeah, I can see she really did a good job of that. Got a little sidetracked with the torture?”
“Still got a lot to learn about what vampires, pet?”
Torture was sexy? That didn’t sound right. “What do y—?” Cordelia was interested to know more, but not with Buffy and Xander listening in. “Shut up, Spike.”
Looking her straight in the eye, Spike warned, “Watch out for Isobel, toots. Got the hots for Angelus, she does, and plans to sink her hooks deep.”
“Cor, I’m sure Angel dusted her.” Faith turned expectantly. “Right?”
Angel rubbed at the building pressure at his neck while wishing that he had kept his mouth shut about Isobel. Before he could answer, Spike butted in again. “No, the big poof sent her packing with a message for her sire.”
While Giles and Wesley were formulating questions about Angel’s strategy, Buffy was focused on a more important issue. “Was she pretty?”
Though Cordelia figured it wasn’t Buffy’s business, the question was still legit. “Was she?”
Almost instantly, Angel’s, “No!” emerged as an adamant bark. “I didn’t really notice,” he added with a guilty expression that said otherwise.
Cordelia raised a brow. “So which was it? Either you didn’t notice or she looked like a pug-faced troll.”
When Angel didn’t immediately answer, feeling like anything he said would get him in hot water, Spike chimed in. “Hot little blonde. Curves in all the right places.”
“Shut up, Spike.” Angel gave him a look that said he wasn’t helping.
“Don’t worry, pet,” Spike winked his good eye at Cordelia. “Next time I see that bitch I’m gonna rip her head off. Won’t be so pretty then.”
Gross, but Cordelia couldn’t find fault with the plan. “Next time Angel won’t be going alone.” She asked Angel, “Did you dust anybody? Sheesh.”
“The minions.”
“Blondie wanted him to sign up. Offered him a nice deal, promised him power and a few perks that included her. Thought he was Angelus. Isobel was too busy creaming her knickers to notice the soul,” Spike revealed.
Giles focused on the first part. “Isobel made an offer for Angelus to join them?”
Still talking to Cordelia, Spike told her, “Back in the day, Angelus would’ve taken her up on her offer. Don’t worry pet. He said no. ‘Course it wasn’t that long ago that he was into feisty blondes.”
A second later Spike hit the floor after Buffy’s fist connected squarely with his jaw. “That’s the last time you say anything about me and Angel.” She wanted to forget about the relationship and didn’t need some annoying, loud vampire mouthing off at her every chance he got.
Buffy’s petite form towered above him as Spike struggled into a seated position. She glared down as if daring him to get up and fight. This time he didn’t find it much of a turn-on. Scowling, Spike gave a low grumble, “Try that again when I’m ready to take what you’re dishing out.”
Rubbing at his sore jaw, he looked at Dru who crouched down next to him. He half expected her to go after Buffy for punching him. Instead, she grabbed his right ear into a tight pinch and dragged him to his feet. “Remember that, naughty boy. Leave the nasty slayer alone.”
Tired of dealing with Spike’s runaway mouth, Angel instructed Faith to take the two vampires up to the vacant room on the third floor next to her own. “That way you can keep an eye on them.”
Unenthusiastic over the idea of babysitting them, Faith muttered, “Great.”
“Hope you’re not a light sleeper, luv,” Spike smirked as she helped Drusilla walk him up the stairs. “We’ll try to keep the noise down.”
As planned, Cordelia headed up behind them telling the vampires where they could find clean linen. “I’ll get some stuff for you to take care of those wounds.”
Drusilla paused, “My Spike needs blood to heal, someone young and vigorous.”
“Sorry,” Cordelia reminded her that was a no-no. “You’ll be on Angel’s special diet while you’re here.”
Looking back toward the foyer, she called out, “Xander, get some fresh blood from the fridge and bring it up.”
“Me?” Xander looked around as if he expected to find another Xander Harris in the room.
Angel reminded him, “You said you were in charge of the food.”
Gulping, he grabbed Willow’s wrist and whimpered.
“Are they going to drink that stuff?” asked Willow prying Xander’s fingers from her arm. “Piggy isn’t their usual diet.”
“It’s a problem,” Angel admitted. Giles and Wesley were still against having them in the house. Both voiced their concerns again, but Angel had made up his mind to let them stay. “Normally, I wouldn’t trust them, certainly not Spike. This way I know where they are and what they’re doing.”
Giles didn’t like it one bit. “This is your house, but I’m holding you responsible should anything happen.”
“Fair enough.” There were no guarantees. Vigilance was necessary. Though Drusilla seemed to be playing nice at the moment, she could turn on them quite easily. Once Spike’s injuries healed, his influence over Dru might prove problematic.
Buffy remained in the foyer with Angel and the watchers. Impatient, she wanted to get on with this, come up with a plan, and execute it. She wanted this over with and wanted out of this house. “What next?”
“We finish securing this place against an attack,” Angel glanced around at obvious vulnerabilities that remained.
Wesley reminded him of the spell Willow cast. “Cordelia is the only one able to invite a vampire inside. As we are dealing with a cult of vampires, that should make the mansion secure from attack.”
“From Nico’s minions, perhaps,” conceded Angel, “but they won’t be alone in this.”
“You mentioned the Galician villagers were also demon-worshippers. They, too, are likely to be involved,” Giles agreed. “Who knows how far their influence has spread. And we have already seen they are not above hiring mercenaries to do their dirty work.”
Angel paced across the parquet floor. “We still don’t know a damn thing about the prophesy itself.”
“On the contrary,” Wesley disagreed. “Now that we know the Banished Ones are part of this, we can call for all available resources from the Council. To this point, all our research has been focused in another direction.”
“Now we have a point of reference,” Giles agreed. “With the Galician involvement, I may be able to call in a few favors from nearby resources. Someone local might be able to determine which demon is being worshipped. If a connection is made with the glyphs on the stone obelisk, perhaps then we can determine a way to prevent this prophesy from coming to its fruition.”
Buffy was getting antsy watching Angel pace across the floor. Tapping her stake in a set rhythm against her thigh, she asked, “What can I do?”
Just then, Xander and Willow happened to be making their way toward the stairs from the kitchen. Seeing them, Wesley had an idea. Having already used Willow’s spell casting skills, he felt certain she would be capable of the level of magic required for another bit of witchery.
“Willow!” He called out to her so unexpectedly that she shrieked nearly spilling the plastic container of blood she carried.
Wavering on her feet, Willow stared at him as she recovered from the shock. “Don’t dooooooo that.”
“Sorry,” Wes apologized. He took the blood from Willow, handed it to over to Xander who already held one container. Telling him, “Do go on. I have an important task for Willow.”
Reluctantly, Xander went on with his own job of bringing cold, congealing pig blood to the vampires upstairs. He knew Angel heated his blood. Or, he’d seen Cordelia do that for him. No way was he microwaving this stuff and spicing it up with cinnamon like that.
“What’s the scoop?” Willow asked Wes as they walked back to join the others. “More spell stuff?”
After confirming her guesswork, Wesley asked, “Have you ever cast a location spell?”
“No.”
“With Angel’s help, I believe that you can help us find the Banished Ones.”
Location spells required some method of identification. The one casting the spell was required to possess personal knowledge of the individual being located, a personal object belonging to the one sought, or a photograph. Since Willow had none of these to go by, Angel agreed to create a detailed drawing of Isobel.
Buffy wanted to know, “How does this give me something to do?” She looked to Giles for an answer.
“If Willow’s spell succeeds, you can try a little reconnaissance. With any luck, we can bring this conflict to them.”
“There’s one other name you need to know,” Angel told the watchers. He had almost forgotten hearing it. Back at the warehouse while Spike was being tortured by Isobel and he was up in the rafters, Angel caught a bit of the conversation. Just enough to hear her say the name, “Kalnesh.”
Giles and Wesley exchanged looks again in that contemplative way. Admitting, “The name is vaguely familiar,” Giles waited for his younger colleague to say something.
“I, too, have heard the name before.”
“They know nothing,” Buffy told Angel. “That look means they’ll have to research and get back to you tomorrow.”
Angel knew better than to say anything.
“Can we get on with that find-the-vampires spell?” Buffy sighed. “I’m tired of being cooped up.”
Willow whispered, “You just got back from patrolling.”
A little whine sounded from Buffy’s throat. Seeing her friend’s face contort into a big pout, Willow stammered as she came up with an excuse to get her away from Angel. Being in close proximity to the Cordy and Angel wasn’t making this any easier on her friend.
“W-We’ll need stuff for the spell. Components,” Willow told the guys. “We’ll go get what we need while Angel draws the picture.”
Wesley provided a list of items they could obtain from the local Magic Shop. The shopkeeper was known to keep late hours. Wes wasn’t keen about letting two girls go it alone, but Buffy reminded him that she was a slayer. They headed out on their shopping mission and the two watchers settled in for a long night of research.
Thinking about Isobel with the level of detail required to draw her for this spell wasn’t pleasant. She might be beautiful on the outside, but there was nothing but ice inside. Just a cold-hearted ambition that matched her sire’s. Spike was right about one thing. In many ways, Isobel was a lot like Darla.
Angel climbed the stairs suddenly feeling every bruise and scrape marring his flesh. He pressed his hand against his injured side and held it there against the stickiness where blood clotted against his shirt. He allowed himself a grunt to acknowledge the pain, and then gritted his teeth against it as he made his way up to the bedroom.
When he saw that Cordelia wasn’t there, he glowered toward the third floor realizing she must still be helping Spike and Dru get settled. It was difficult enough to find a few minutes alone with her and now Spike was getting the attention that belonged to him. Realizing it was unreasonable to be disgruntled about it Angel didn’t bother to push aside the feeling. Spike might be family of sorts, but he was still a vampire.
Before he did anything else, Angel took the sketchpad he kept in his nightstand out to complete his assigned task. Isobel’s image was still fresh in his mind and he didn’t want to dwell on it any longer than necessary. Opening it to a blank page, he drew two pictures, one of Isobel looking serene in her human beauty and the other as a vampire.
Angel set the sketchpad down on the bed and tossed the pencil beside it when he was done. He looked toward the door again. Still no Cordelia. For a moment, he considered stomping upstairs to find out what was taking so long, but Faith was there to protect her and he didn’t relish the idea of coming across as a jealous maniac.
Taking off his jacket, Angel carefully draped it across a chair. He’d have to check it for rips and holes later. The leather often protected him during fights, but it wasn’t indestructible. Neither was he, apparently. He winced as he peeled his shirt away from his side where it adhered to a wound.
The smaller scrapes and scratches were already starting to close. Some of the deep bruises would take a little longer. This wound needed flushing out. He headed toward the shower turning the water on hot.
Angel emerged fifteen minutes later in a cloud of steam, a towel wrapped around his hips. His gaze immediately went to Cordelia who was lounging on the top of the bed with his sketchbook lying open in front of her.
“So this is the pug-faced troll.”
This was going to one of those conversations. Steeling himself for what was ahead, Angel walked over to the dresser to pick out some clothes. “I never said she looked like a troll.”
“Were you lovers back in the day?”
Angel denied it immediately. “No. We never met.” He discarded the towel to step into his boxers noting the way Cordelia watched him through her lashes. Even now she remained a little shy about his body.
“But she wants you.”
Stalling, Angel tried to determine how best to respond to that. Finally, he opted for the truth. Coming to stand by the edge of the bed, he said, “Isobel wants Angelus. I think she has some kind of crush on him. She doesn’t know about the soul. Angelus’ reputation is pure evil. It’s the thrill of power, the love of torture, the bloodletting.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, real turn-ons. And talking about yourself in the third person— don’t think I’m going to fall for that.”
When Angel wasn’t certain what to say next, Cordelia pointed to a mug sitting on the nightstand. “I brought you some blood. That’s the last of it, I’m afraid. With three vamps in the house, I’ll have to stock up tomorrow.”
“There’s plenty of night left,” Angel told her after taking a big gulp. “I could swing by Willie’s bar and pick up a fresh supply.”
“No way! You’re still bleeding, you big dork. I’m not letting you go out like that.” She pulled a First Aid Kit from the top of the nightstand and patted the bed.
Glancing down at his side, Angel noted that the wound was still seeping blood. It was almost closed. The blood he was drinking would help fortify him as well as speed the healing process. Angel gulped down the rest and climbed onto the bed taking care not to drip blood onto the covers.
“I thought you weren’t into the Florence Nightingale thing.”
Cordelia bent down to press her lips to a bruise on his shoulder. “For you, I’ll make an exception.”