Go TeamC/A
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CHAPTER 29 The Mansion, Crawford Street, Central Sunnydale
Cordelia never dealt with the scrapes and bruises of her cheerleading squad. When an injury occurred, the school nurse was always around to handle it. Other than the inconvenience of waiting for them to get patched up, she never really thought about the pain. It was her job to make them work through it.
“Does it hurt?” When it was your boyfriend who was injured, priorities were obviously a little different.
Angel opened his mouth to deny it and she snapped a warning, “And don’t tell me that it’s fine.”
Lying on his side to give her access to the long gash across his ribs, Angel had to rethink his response. “The pain isn’t bad. It’s just a flesh wound. I’ve had worse.”
Imagining something worse made her head hurt. She felt cold all of a sudden. Angel ran a hand up her arm and she shivered, but focused on his concerned face. Noticing her pallor, “You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”
“Cordelia Chase does not faint.”
Shaking off the woozy feeling, she took a look at the wound. As Angel said, it wasn’t deep. No bones poking out. No big gouges or pokes. Something sharp had scraped across his shirt superficially cutting into the skin by the looks of it.
“Not so bad, really. Patching you up…piece of cake,” she lied, poking at the edges of the wound to see where the worst of the bleeding was located. “What’s a little blood between friends?”
She peeked at Angel’s face to see if he was buying it. Poker face. No fair. From the way he continued to touch her arm in that soothing way, she had to guess no. “The good news is that I don’t think you need stitches.”
Angel told her, “It will probably close on its own. My body can handle a lot.”
“Are you kidding? Vampire mojo or not, I’m not about to let my boyfriend fester and rot.” Cordelia rolled her eyes at him. “Pfft. Now shut up so I can give you some TLC.”
“Is that what this is?” Angel plumped the pillow beneath his head. She had her hands on him. First aid was the last thing on his mind.
The oozing wound looked clean, but there was the issue of that red stuff to deal with. Opening up the First Aid Kit, she removed some 4x4” gauze and held it in place hoping that a little pressure would do the trick. If it didn’t, Cordelia wasn’t sure what she would do next. Maybe she should have paid more attention to technique instead of the doctors during episodes of E.R.
While she was thinking hard about her strategy, Cordelia felt Angel’s hand settle on her hip. Just touching her at first, but then his hand moved and his fingers spread out to follow the curve of her ass. He squeezed lightly and smiled wickedly when she looked up at him again.
“How about you just kiss it better?” Angel’s hand swept up to her shoulder blades where a slight pressure brought her down to his level.
Just above his mouth, muttered, “Perv,” but gave him a quick smooch anyway.
Angel’s hand slipped up to her nape holding her there. Not bothering to respond verbally or deny it, he buried his face against her throat, nuzzled her skin and then kissed his way up toward her mouth.
Indulging him, Cordelia leaned in for another teasing kiss, but lingered longer than intended. His mouth was like a drug she couldn’t get enough of. Their lips meshed, a flash of heat burning between them, lips soft, sensual, enticing not controlling. His tongue darted out to tease her lower lip, urging her to open to him.
She almost gave in. Nearly forgot what she was doing. With a moan of regret, she pushed him back. “Behave.” A smile lingered along with the buzz of arousal. “I’m trying to stop the blood flow— though it seems like it’s headed somewhere else.”
“I noticed,” Angel groaned glancing down to his tented boxers.
Cordelia’s hands shook as she taped up the wound with fresh gauze. The tape got mangled because she tried to do it too fast. “This tape is evil.” Finally, she smoothed the last piece across his skin covering the edge of the gauze. “Finished!”
With a little yank, Angel pulled her down into his arms. “No we’re not.” The pain of his injuries forgotten, he flipped her back toward the center of the bed.
His body fell against hers, heavy and male. Before he shifted away, she wrapped her arms and legs around him. “Closer,” she pleaded gruffly against his mouth before it consumed hers in a fiery kiss.
****
The Library, Sunnydale High School
Normally the library was a sanctuary of sorts, but today it seemed like a prison. Why was it that other watchers weren’t burdened by secondary jobs? Today was not the day to call in sick. Principal Snyder was in a rotten mood. More so than usual. To be avoided at all costs.
Fighting off a yawn, Giles covered his mouth with the back of his hand. A headache had been hanging around all morning, the result of pulling a research all-nighter with his younger counterpart. Thinking back to his Ripper days when lack of sleep meant little to his energy levels, he realized might have to admit that he wasn’t as young as he used to be.
Most of his books were at the mansion. He had brought a few files with him. They’d split the work. Giles assigned Wesley the research on the obelisk and the Rites of Tavrok. A fresh eye on the subject might provide some new clue that he had missed. They were close to discovering something. He could feel it. But the truth remained just out of reach.
Giles took everything they had on European vampire clans and the Obscurantist Vampyr. There were more references here in the library that had been left behind, thinking them unconnected with the prophesy. He hoped to find out more details about the House of Solaris.
Before leaving for work this morning he made a call to London to request everything the Watcher’s Council possessed on the Banished Ones. He’d gotten the expected reaction and it took three requests before someone actually took him seriously. They started paying attention when he revealed that Angel was the source of information linking the two houses to a single bloodline. It would take several days to produce copies of the original documents. Most were so old they required special handling and storage.
The delay was expected and not bad timing. With Beverly Quinn’s funeral tomorrow, the day, if not the entire weekend, would be difficult for everyone. All signs pointed to the pause in demonic activity continuing for a while, but it was impossible to be certain just how long it would be.
Before the next sign appeared and another victim was selected as a future sacrifice, it was vital to discover who and what they were up against. Now they knew the who. Nicolau Cibran and his childe, Isobel. Likely, the entire House of Solaris. Potentially, their demon-worshipping thralls. It was impossible to know just how pervasive this cult had become.
On the countertop in front of him, Giles opened the Obscurantist Vampyr to the entry on the Banished Ones. He stared at the words until they blurred before him: ‘beware the light-bringer’. Removing his glasses, he pursed his lips, thoughtfully tapping the tip of the ear piece against his lower lip while considering the options.
The library doors pushed open unexpectedly. Giles looked up to see Buffy, Willow and Xander shuffling in from the hall. He glanced at his watch. This was classtime. He wasn’t expecting these three for another two hours.
Buffy dropped her notebooks onto the counter and whined, “Will this day ever be over? I can’t believe Troll Man tried to blame me for the missing stuff from the Chem Lab.”
Interpreting ‘Troll Man’ as Principal Snyder, Giles suddenly understood why the gruff man was especially acerbic this morning.
“Anything that goes wrong around here is automatically my fault,” Buffy’s shoulders slumped and her eyes widened in a woeful plea for sympathy. “What would I want with old Buster Burners anyway?”
He didn’t have the foggiest idea. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask whether there was something he needed to know when Willow slyly pointed out, “Didn’t you burn down the gym at your old school?”
With an offended gasp, Buffy said, “That was slayer stuff.”
Xander was quick to provide some cheer. “Look on the bright side, Buffster. We got out of that boring chemistry experiment and got to come to the library to ‘study’.”
Finally noticing that he was standing there, Willow waved perkily, “Hi Giles!”
Still pouting, Buffy grumbled a greeting and, for once, Xander just nodded a pleasant hello.
“How’s it going, Library Man?”
Correction. Xander hadn’t undergone any personality changes in the past few hours. Certainly not since serving everyone his ‘breakfast extraordinaire’ consisting of Pop Tarts and YooHoo.
Tapping his watch face, he asked why they were there ahead of schedule. “Skipping classes or were you thrown out again?”
Buffy held her hands up and pleaded innocence. “I didn’t do it.”
“Willow?”
“Neither did I,” Willow harrumphed breathily.
Giles popped his glasses back into place. “No, no, I was merely asking why you’re gracing me with your presence earlier than planned.” Not to mention wondering if Principal Snyder would be searching for them.
Explaining the situation, Willow told him that some Bunsen burners and chemicals were missing from the Chem Lab, so their teacher decided to cancel class and sent them all off to study. Chirpily, she added, “So here we are.”
“No doubt your classmates were devastated at the cancellation. Fortunately for us, we can use the time to coordinate our plans for this afternoon,” Giles told them. “We have a lot to accomplish before tomorrow.”
He let it go unspoken, but all three knew he meant the funeral. It was unnecessary to remind them to dress appropriately and be on their best behavior. Despite being young, they had been through more than most adults in a lifetime and living here in Sunnydale ensured that black was a standard part of everyone’s wardrobe.
Before his thoughts drifted to another funeral, one not so long ago, Giles turned back to the business at hand. “At the close of school today, I will drive to the butcher shop for a fresh supply of blood. You three can stop at Willie’s Bar.”
Three groans sounded, but no one refused the assignment.
“It is best that…our guests be weaned from their regular diet slowly. An immediate switch,” he explained, “might cause cravings we’d rather avoid.”
Xander nodded. “Definitely gotta agree with that. My neck always seems to be on someone’s lunch menu.”
“Do you think Spike and Drusilla will do what Angel says?” asked Willow putting one of Giles’ own concerns to voice.
There was every reason to believe that they wouldn’t being soulless vampires with a past history of defying authority. Though technically, Angel was sire of their line, he was not their acknowledged master. If Angelus had killed Darla to assume leadership of the House of Aurelius, there would be no question. But the curse changed things. Possessing a soul might make him more than just a vampire, but not in their eyes. To them, he was tainted, and their House in a state of disarray.
Truthfully, Giles didn’t know what to expect. He could only hope that Angel retained some influence over their behavior.
Buffy seemed certain of her opinion on the matter. “They’ll behave.”
Taking the opposite stance Xander blurted, “Tell that to the crazy woman with the thrall.” The power of which was something Giles completely understood.
“Okay,” conceded Buffy with a shrug, “I’m not so sure about Dru, but Spike knows what’s at stake.”
“But they’re not like Angel. They’re soulless,” Willow argued against trusting Spike so easily.
Giles was about to agree when Buffy snapped, “Having a soul hasn’t stopped Angel from being a jerk. He’s dating Cordelia. Cordelia! Ugh!”
This was not the time or place for having that conversation again. Even Willow and Xander looked uncomfortable with the subject, a wary silence following the short outburst.
Fortunately, Buffy didn’t skip a beat and went on with her original opinion of why it was safe to trust Spike. “Don’t forget that Spike tipped me off about Angelus’ plans to suck the world into hell. Anyway, it sounds like he really wants to help out against the Psycho Seductress.”
“Speaking of Isobel,” Giles changed the subject, “have you gathered what you need for the Location Spell?”
Willow nodded. “Yup. Last night. Scary.” Her thin shoulders shuddered.
The girls had been gone for several hours. To be honest, he had been so focused on the research and discussing theories with Wesley that the time had gone by without notice. What should have been a short trip to the Magic Shop took a bit longer than planned.
“We got what we needed,” Buffy left it at that. “She’s good to go as soon as we get back to the mansion.”
“Excellent.”
Xander suddenly got serious, jumping a step ahead. “What happens after we find Isobel? Do we go into attack mode? Search and destroy? Or stick to an undercover op?”
It was too early to determine the appropriate cause of action. He explained, “That depends on the location of the lair. We might find them in a vulnerable position or one that is highly fortified.”
The trio settled into their usual spots at the front table. Giles turned his attention back to the line of text in the Obscurantist Vampyr: ‘beware the light-bringer’. Was it, as Willow had suggested, a warning to the vampires? Was the light-bringer someone, a slayer perhaps, who would bring about their destruction? Or was it intended for any who might oppose the sect of Solaris in their demon-worship? Could the light-bringer be the demon itself? Might it be something else entirely?
Glancing up, he saw his young protégée and her friends looking bored. Xander had his feet up on the table while he balanced himself on the two back chair legs, Willow was pushing a pencil back and forth across the table—without touching it, while Buffy propped her chin in her hand and strummed her fingers against her cheek.
“If you aren’t going to study your chemistry homework, perhaps you three could do something productive,” Giles didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm.
Neither did Xander. “Chemistry homework or vampire research. Notice we never get to choose between goofing off and taking it easy.”
“We could get our homework out of the way,” Willow suggested and reached for her school books.
Buffy and Xander gave her the stink eye, overruling her with a dual, “Research!”
Carrying over the stack of books, Giles explained again that their focus was to be the vampire clans. “I left Wesley to review the research on the obelisk.”
Buffy glanced over at Willow, who gave her a look of encouragement suggesting that the two of them had chatted about something. Bolstered, Buffy told him. “Does Wes seem…kind of young to you?”
“Meaning compared to me.” Already feeling less than spry today, Giles suddenly felt like a decrepit old man with one foot in the grave.
A careless shrug followed from Buffy. “For a watcher.”
Willow apparently had some of the same concerns. “Shouldn’t watchers be older, mature, know stuff?”
They really hadn’t had an extended opportunity to discuss Wesley’s presence. Things had been moving rather quickly over the past few days. Giles was less concerned about his age and more about his actual experience in the field. From what little he had gathered on the subject, Wesley’s field training included staged scenarios rather than the real thing.
Even that was something they could work with as long as he and his slayer remained in Sunnydale. Tandem training could strengthen them as a team. Considering Faith’s rather strong personality, Wesley was going to need some support. Giles wondered if the Council had truly considered that match before sending him here.
Even Xander could predict the worst. “Faith is going to eat him alive.”
Giles didn’t want to present a negative picture despite his own legitimate concerns. “Ah. Yes, Faith does have an appetite for…controversy. Your concerns are noted. I assure you that while he may not be as old and decrepit as I, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce is a qualified watcher and comes highly recommended for our particular cause. As for Faith, he’ll have to learn quickly.”
****
The Master Bedroom, Angel's Mansion
A soft glow lit the edges of the heavy curtains indicating daytime. Cordelia blinked and shut her eyes again, nuzzling her head back into the pillow. The heavy weight of Angel’s arm lay around her waist. It tightened, pulling her closer. He was so warm at this time of day, when they were skin to skin.
Cordelia smiled in her sleepy state, thinking about Angel’s hot body draped across hers and the delicious things he had done last night. There wasn’t a millimeter of skin that hadn’t been licked, sucked or stroked like he couldn’t get enough of her taste.
Half the night was spent tracing patterns on her flesh, with his head buried between her thighs, tongue dancing pleasures upon her. The other half filled with an almost desperate need to stay connected, his big cock buried inside her, stroking hard and deep, and so slowly that it nearly drove her insane.
Sometime near dawn, they’d showered together and then crawled back into bed. It wasn’t a hardship at all not having to get up to go to school today. Cordelia knew she was stuck at the mansion for the duration. What better way to pass the time than to spend it in bed with her guy?
If only they could.
The shine suddenly started to wear off of her morning after buzz. She remembered that Bev’s funeral was tomorrow. There was stuff she had to do today, including the phone call to Mrs. Finkle, her boss, who surprisingly had turned out to be one of Bev’s bingo buddies. She was kindly acting on Cordelia’s behalf to arrange a few last minute details for the funeral.
Then there was Isobel, whose face Angel had carefully sketched, now staring at her from the pad which had been tossed on the floor during the night. Did her seduction scheme have anything to do with Angel being so voracious? Cordelia recognized the flash of jealousy for what it was, but Spike’s taunts about the beautiful vampiress being Angel’s type were still fresh in her mind.
Behind her, Angel started to stir, his morning erection pressing against her and his hand sweeping up to pull her closer. Nuzzling her hair aside, he kissed her throat.
He stayed there with his mouth pressed to her skin, breathing her in, until Cordelia twisted around in his arms. Her leg hooked over his hip giving permission, silently asking for what she wanted.
When his cock slid deep inside her, Cordelia held him tight. “Harder,” she urged him when the rhythm slapped too lazily, too teasingly to wipe away all traces of what lay ahead. Pushing her sorrows and fears away, she took solace in the moment, feeling only pleasure and the thrill of possessing him.
****
>Downstairs…
Dressed in her black track suit, Faith stepped into the study to tell Wesley that she was headed to the basement to work out. “Nice little set up he’s got down there.”
“Good, good. Go right ahead,” he muttered barely acknowledging her.
Giles might have taken a break to do a little sparring, but she could see that her newbie watcher was bogged down in research. He looked rough around the edges this morning, a little crumpled and the shadow of a beard showing. That dorky little bow tie was undone. The man looked positively edible.
A crooked little smile tugged at her lips, cheeks dimpling devilishly. Suddenly, she wasn’t in so much of a hurry to work out. At least, not down in the basement.
Moving a little closer, she checked him out from head to toe while Wesley remained oblivious to it. There were legal pads of notes, rubbings from the obelisk and book laid out in organized piles all around. She skirted around the research and finally reached the desk where he was studying a large map of Sunnydale.
Propping a hip on the edge of the desk, Faith leaned in close to see what he was up to. “Find anything?”
“Gah!”
Wesley jumped back, his arms wavering, colliding with a stack of books that turned topsy-turvy, and finally flopping over the arm of the couch with one leg in the air. It was the most spectacular act of klutziness Faith had ever seen.
Holy shit. This is my new watcher?
“Was that a seizure or are you just happy to see me?” Faith teased and held out a hand to help him back to his feet.
Wesley straightened up, squared his shoulders and cleared his throat. “I was merely testing your reaction time. There was plenty of opportunity for you to prevent that fall, which I staged, naturally.”
“Naturally,” Faith echoed while trying not to laugh.
As Wes scurried around to set his books back into their little pile, she started to head for the door. Might as well catch that workout after all.
“Faith, wait,” he held up a hand to stop her. “You’ve seen the obelisk. Been to that cemetery.”
What was he getting at? “Yeah.”
A funny gleam appeared in his eyes and Wes started gathering pads and paperwork. When his arms were full, he nodded toward the hall. “I think I’m on to something.”
“On something,” Faith muttered as she followed him toward the front door. “Where are you going? I thought we were on lockdown because of the vamps.”
Wesley paused and glanced toward the stairs. “Their status?”
“Sleeping. Most vampires don’t rise until sunset.” Though, she had to acknowledge that Angel kept strange hours for a vampire. Now it looked like Cordelia was also adjusting to his schedule. It was already early afternoon and there hadn’t been a peep out of them.
“Plenty of time to run a little errand,” Wes headed for the door again. “I forgot for a moment that I need not deal with pure research. The obelisk itself is right here in Sunnydale. There is one rubbing that is not quite clear—a symbol that could provide a clue about the Rites of Tavrok.”
Faith wasn’t opposed to the idea, but it did screw with her plans. “So much for my workout.”
“Oh,” Wes glanced at her clothing, noticing for the first time what she was wearing. “I didn’t realize. Perhaps you can train with Buffy later.”
Having told him what her plans were when she first entered the study, Faith realized that Wes tended to focus deeply when he was thinking. “Whatever. Before we go, I better check in upstairs. Let Cor know we’re heading out.”
With a nod, Wesley headed outside stating that he’d meet her out front. Faith took the stairs two at a time. Reaching the second floor landing, she headed down the hall to Angel and Cordy’s room. A sound alerted her that someone inside was awake. She grabbed the doorknob planning to pop her head inside to give them the news.
Before turning the knob, Faith heard something else. Squeaky springs. She leaned in close, pressing her ear to the door, unabashedly listening to her friends getting it on. From the sound of things, they were having fun.
Grinning, Faith released the doorknob and turned to go back downstairs. No need to bother Angel and Cordy right now. If Wesley didn’t take too long playing with his obelisk, they might even be back before they were finished. Feeling mildly horny, she wondered when she’d find the opportunity to get laid again.
Wes was seated on a motorcycle at the bottom of the front steps. She knew he had purchased it yesterday, something that had surprised her. He seemed more like the moped type. There was a small storage compartment. He put his papers away and removed another helmet.
“All settled?”
“I didn’t bother them,” Faith took the helmet he handed her and swung onto the back of the bike. “They were getting busy.”
“With research? But I have the—,” Wes paused as her meaning sank in. Mortified, he said, “Dear God. Then I suppose we won’t be missed.”
Dear God is right. What an adorable dweeb. Hopping up behind Wesley, she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Motorcycles are hot. All that power between your thighs.” Wes’ spine stiffened as she leaned in close and propped her chin on his shoulder. “Kind of a turn on.”
****
Back in the Master Bedroom…
Each time he took her bound them closer together. Cordelia’s passion and spirit were irresistible and he was too weak to resist taking every advantage to make her fall for him the way he had for her. The love she proclaimed made him happy in a way that proved the curse was broken, but there was something missing. Physical proof. The visible sign that she belonged to him.
Angel couldn’t stop thinking about it last night. Even while they made love, especially then, because it stirred up every instinct he had to claim her. He held back. Kept his urges buried deep. As if she sensed it, her movements became frantic, pleading for something more.
The alluring pulse of Cordelia’s blood pounded in his ear, the rhythm of her heart, gasping breaths, sounds of pleasure stifled against his shoulder as he fucked her, every thrust channeling his feelings deep inside.
****
Trinity Baptist Church Cemetery, East Sunnydale
Wesley hadn’t missed the flirtation in Faith’s voice. This wasn’t the time to address it. The council file was quite thick and included all manner of activities including her defiance of authority figures, the death of her previous watcher, and tendency to push herself to the limits. He hoped her arrival in Sunnydale was a way of reaching out and seeking help.
According to the information he had gleaned from Rupert Giles on the subject, Faith remained a wildcard. They were at disparate odds about Faith’s involvement with the town mayor. If the man was half as corrupt as they believed, the danger to her was significant. Her willingness to walk the line combined with her innate recklessness gave him cause for concern.
“Turn here,” Faith called out to him as they reached the turning at State Street and Jefferson Avenue. He had seen the far edge of the cemetery from the road, but its entrance was actually off Jefferson.
He parked the motorbike in the parking lot next to the church ruins. “Quite a lot of damage from the earthquake,” he observed.
“Cor and Angel were here when it happened.” Climbing off, she removed her helmet and shook out her dark hair. “They’re the ones who found the stone.”
“So I understand,” Wes nodded. Removing his own helmet, he took hers and put both of them down on the seat. He opened up the storage compartment taking out a legal pad covered in notes and a rolled up section from the rubbings Giles had done of the obelisk’s symbols.
As they headed toward the cemetery where the earthquake had opened up a trench, Wesley made an attempt to learn something about the relationships that his slayer had formed. “You have been very protective of Cordelia Chase.”
Faith looked like he’d punched her, shock apparent at the unexpected question. “Not protective enough. Bev died on my watch. Cor got kidnapped.”
Cringing inwardly, he tried to soothe her ruffled feathers. “I meant to say that you seem to value her friendship.”
“What kind of fucked up friend am I?” she said sourly, kicking at a hunk of dried mud with her boot sending it hurtling across the pavement. The random violence calmed her down. In a steadier voice, “Cor says things for what they are. Cuts through the bullshit, if you get me. I like that.”
Wes nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
They reached the trench and saw a gaping hole in the ground where the obelisk had once been, but had recently been removed. Faith crouched down to pick up the tattered end of a rope, her gaze following the heavy tracks of truck tires leading back toward the road.
“Looks like someone hauled it away.” Faith dropped the rope. “Think the church folks found it and wanted it gone?”
It took a moment for her words to filter through the silent curses going through his head. Wes needed that obelisk. People were not supposed to cart off ancient objects. He suspected that the church pastor had nothing to do with it. Whilst a man of God might not want a strange stone pillar in his cemetery, there was nothing on it that shouted demon-worship to the ordinary layman.
“No, I doubt this was related to the church. Perhaps the local archeological society or museum,” he suggested.
“You don’t really believe that.”
Wesley didn’t, but wanted to remain hopeful. “We can verify it with a few calls. It would be considered a significant find. If we’re lucky, I could still arrange access.”
“Well, fuck.”
Remembering that Faith preferred to cut to the bottom line, Wesley told her another more likely possibility. “This obelisk is important to the Rites of Tavrok, to the final fulfillment of the prophesy. The ceremony involving the sacrifice of these Pure Ones requires that stone.”
“So you think that banished guy, Nic, had his minions haul it off last night?”
Compared to the other theory, this one made more sense. “The appearance of the obelisk was one of the prophesied signs. We can only assume that Nicolau and the rest of this demon-worshipping sect are doing everything in their power to meet their goals. Chances are that the obelisk is safely hidden in preparation for the rites to be performed.”
They started to walk back to the parking lot. Faith pointed to the mud tracks on the pavement, refusing to give up. “Think we can follow those?”
Back on the motorbike, they turned south along Jefferson Avenue following the muddy trail until it vanished at the crossroads at Thousand Oaks Drive. “Damn.”
Having studied the map of Sunnydale, Wesley realized that the truck hauling the stone pillar could be headed anywhere in town. Since it did not take a northerly route out of the cemetery that ruled out the highway as their destination. Which meant that the obelisk remained in Sunnydale. Unfortunately, Thousand Oaks ran East to West across the entire town. Their destination might be anywhere.
“Does this screw everything up?” Faith’s tone suggested that she already knew the answer.
****
Late Afternoon at the Mansion…
Cordelia had never seen anyone so upset about the disappearance of a rock. Their new watcher guy was pacing and saying things that were supposedly English, but sounded more like gobbledygook. Frankly, she was getting tired of hearing about it. No one was going to turn her into a sacrifice. End of story.
With the exception of Spike and Drusilla who were still in their room, everybody else had gathered in the study to prepare for Willow’s mojo. Cordy curled up in one of the chairs having kicked her shoes off. She was eating the scrambled eggs and toast that Angel had whipped up for her after they came downstairs.
“Mmm, these are so good,” she smiled up at him as he sat next to her on the arm of the chair. “Want some?”
Angel brushed at his pant leg. “Watch the crumbs.” He smiled, continuing to watch her eat and dividing his attention to listen in on the watchers’ conversation.
Sitting in front of the fireplace, Buffy looked somewhat disgusted at the sight of her shoveling the eggs in. “What? I’m starving.”
“Guess that workout earlier really revved up your appetite.” Faith winked as she walked by. She stopped at Xander’s side where he was sprawled across the couch, sleeping with his mouth hanging open. Stretching, she commented, “God, I could use a good workout.”
Cordelia swallowed the bite of toast she’d been chewing. Looking back and forth at Faith and Xander, she realized what her friend was suggesting. She was surprised by the lack of any possessive feelings about her former boyfriend. Wow. There was just a strong sense of weirdness.
“Really?”
Faith answered with a frustrated little shrug. “Actually, I think I’ll head downstairs to the basement. It’s the only place I seem to get any action around here.”
“Wait up,” Buffy jumped to her feet. “This could go on forever and Will doesn’t need me for the spell.”
“Just so you know I’m in the mood to kick your ass.”
“What a coincidence. Me too.”
Though sparring with Buffy wasn’t exactly the workout Faith had in mind, Cordelia knew both of them would welcome the escape from all of this prophesy talk. Tuning back in to what Wesley was telling Giles, she saw they hadn’t missed a beat. The two of them were still hunched over the documents scattered across the desk.
“Without the obelisk, it may be impossible to interpret the rest of the symbols,” Wes held up one of the rubbings for Giles’ examination. He pointed to one shaped like a bunch of wavy lines. “This one represents change. Perhaps a change from one state of being into something new.”
Giles had noted that symbol before, he said, but wasn’t certain of the translation. It was a surprise to Cordelia that there was stuff the new guy could figure out that had stumped Giles. His words caught her attention.
Suddenly concerned, she asked, “Who’s changing into what?”
Both watchers turned toward her, staring at length as if searching for an answer that was out of reach. Finally, Giles gave Wes the nod to go ahead. The way he started to stutter made her nervous. It couldn’t be a good sign.
“W-w-well actually…the problem is…we don’t really know.”
“Oh, well, that’s good.”
“It is?”
“Yeah,” Cordelia sighed. “I thought you were going to tell me that all of the potential sacrifices were supposed to change into something weird. Y’know, demony.”
Wesley and Giles did that creepy exchange of glances again where they looked like they were reading each other’s mind. Again, not a good sign. Oh, crap.
Sensing her concerns, Angel squeezed her shoulder. “There’s got to be some other interpretation.”
“Unfortunately, there are many interpretations,” Wesley scrolled the obelisk rubbings into a single roll and set it down upon the desk. “That last symbol is the key. It’s too smudged to be certain. The human sacrifices play a key role in the Rites of Tavrok. A change occurs, but it is unclear whether the people themselves change or they effect some form of change upon something else.”
Cordelia looked up at Angel. “Huh?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Angel assured her that she was safe. His tone darkened as he looked up at Giles and Wesley. “You will figure this out. There are answers out there somewhere. Find them.”
Behind them, Willow cleared her throat. “I’m ready when you are.”
At the sound of her voice, Xander woke up. “What’d I miss?”
“You’re in charge of the stinky herbs,” Cordelia told him and then scooped another bite of scrambled egg into her mouth.
Willow’s spell took more time to set up than it did to cast. She needed the pictures of Isobel, which Angel provided, a map of Sunnydale, a charm that looked like a cheap bauble, and the requisite herbs. Wesley came up with the words for the spell from an old book he brought with him from England.
The spells in that book, he explained, could be performed by anyone knowledgeable enough to interpret and pronounce the words. However, the effectiveness when the spell was cast by those with an innate talent for magic was significantly increased.
“I’ve been practicing,” Willow assured them. “Some of the words are kind of tricky. I can do this, though. I think. Pretty sure.”
“Hello, show a little confidence.” Cordelia reminded her that she had managed to re-curse Angelus. “This should be a cinch.”
Willow looked more intimidated than inspired. “Everyone gather around the desk. I’ll start the chant, but I need everyone to look at the drawings and think about Isobel. This spell works by focusing our positive energy upon the person or object we seek.”
Think about Isobel? Ugh. Cordelia couldn’t imagine much else that would cause her positive energy to turn negative. Just looking at the drawings made her want to rip them up into tiny shreds.
The chanting went on for a minute while Willow held her charm above the Sunnydale map, a crystal bauble dangling from a thin red string. Cordelia waved her bundle of stinky herbs in the air as instructed, keeping a hand over her nose to block out the scent. Suddenly, the crystal went from its gravity-dependant position to being pulled at an angle as if by an invisible force. The red string snapped, leaving the glowing crystal charm spinning atop one spot on the map.
Leaning in close, they all looked at the place the spell revealed they could find Isobel at that particular moment. “That can’t be right,” Cordelia saw that the crystal was pointing to City Hall.
“The mayor’s office? And in the middle of the day?” Willow gleeped in dismay. “I did everything I was supposed to do.”
Wesley scratched his head. “I saw nothing wrong with your spell. Did anyone’s focus lapse? Your thoughts stray to something other than Isobel?”
Raising her hand, Cordelia admitted, “Maybe the vibiness of my positive vibes wasn’t as positive as it could be.”
Then, to her surprise, Giles also spoke up. “Perhaps the City Hall connection is my fault. Though I don’t believe I was thinking about it now, I was concerned about Fa—about some outstanding issues that have been left unattended recently.”
“Like what, unpaid parking tickets?” Xander shrugged. “Talk to my Uncle Ernie. He can tell you how to get out of them.”
“No, Xander. More important issues. However, none which concern this situation,” Giles told them.
Cordelia watched the crystal go dark and fall topsy-turvy to the map. “What does that mean?”
“It means that if Isobel was at the mayor’s office, she’s no longer there,” Willow said.
Angel swiped at the papers on the desk sweeping the map, drawings and crystal to the floor. An angry expletive followed. “Can’t any of you get a goddamn thing right?”
“I-I’m sorry, Angel.” Willow was shaking visibly. “I tried.”
“Hey!” Cordelia whacked Angel on the arm. “Stop being an asshole. She did her best. That might not be good enough, but she tried.”
He crowded her against the desk, still looking like he wanted to take someone’s head off. A nasty tone sounded in his voice. “Defending Willow now?”
Placing her hands on his chest, Cordelia moved them in a soothing motion hoping to calm him down. She saw the conflict in his eyes. The hints of gold that glinted amid the brown showing that the demon within him was wrestling for greater control. No matter that his soul was secure, she was learning that those demon aspects were still part of his nature as a vampire.
“We’ll find Isobel and her cronies,” she promised him. “Maybe we’ll have to settle for the old fashioned way instead of the mojo.”
Angel bent forward to rest his forehead against hers, his arms circling around her. “I want this over with. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
****
Trinity Baptist Church Cemetery, Eastside, Sunnydale
The funeral was as unorthodox as Beverly Quinn herself: a midday ceremony under the full California sun at the site of a recent earthquake. Attendees came by the dozens. Most because they loved Bev. Church-goers, bingo buddies and a few silver-haired men who looked crushed by their loss.
Cordelia didn’t know half of them, but they all seemed to know her. The funeral went by in a blurr. The pastor spoke. The parishioners prayed. Dressed in her best black, she kept her expression cool and her eyes hidden behind a pair of impenetrably dark sunglasses.
These people didn’t know how much she had come to love her grandmother in the short time she had known her. They were not going to see her cry. Not now. Not ever. She never felt the tears falling.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…” the words spun around in her head.
Draped in flowers, the coffin was lowered into the ground. Cordelia watched it sink down and took a step forward when it started to descend beyond her immediate sight. Faith and Xander flanked her on each side. She held tight to Xander’s hand and he didn’t bother complaining when she squeezed too tight.
Willow didn’t bother to hide her tears. She carried extra Kleenex in the pocket of her dress and snuck one to Wesley who was trying to make it look like the sun was in his eyes. He never met Bev when she was alive, but he came to the funeral anyway in support of Faith’s friend.
Giles and Buffy stood side by side, dry-eyed, but sad in their countenance, his arm draped across her shoulder supportively. Both lost in thought. Wondering what kind of woman she was based on the one time they met her. The similarities to Cordelia. The responsibility they both felt for her death despite not being present. Perhaps more so because they were not.
Despite all of the support, the one person Cordelia wanted at her side wasn’t there. The daylight kept Angel captive back at the mansion. There was no building left to offer enough shade ensure his safety. And to protect her from any potential threat it had been decided to forgo a tent over the gravesite. No way could a vampire find shelter from the sun’s deadly rays.
One by one the people scooped up shovels full of dark earth. It hit the coffin lid and scattered, weighing down the flowers that had been so beautifully arranged on top. Cordelia watched them go by, shook their hands as they offered condolences and responded without really hearing herself speak.
Then a firm hand took hers and a familiar voice snapped her out of the haze that had seeped inside her. “My dear Miss Chase,” Mayor Wilkins clasped his other hand over hers. “Your grandmother was a fine woman. Such a shame. Such a loss for our fair community.”
Cordelia tried to pull her hand out of his grasp, but the mayor held on until the news cameras finished snapping their photos. She had mixed feelings when it came to this man. He was Bev’s enemy, her opponent in the Bingo debate. When asked, he had gone out of his way to cut through the red tape so the burial could take place here next to her grandfather’s grave.
She owed him something. “Thank you.” Maybe that would be enough.
Though her attention slid to the man standing next him, the mayor hung around. He pulled Faith aside for a moment, something Cordelia noticed, but was too distracted to really pay attention to. The man was another stranger, completely different from any of the others.
“My condolences,” he spoke formally and with an unmistakably foreign accent. That and the fact that he looked like a vampire wannabe immediately set her on edge. It hadn’t occurred to her, or the others, that Nicolau Cibran might send a human crony to the funeral. “Your grandmother had many friends.”
Next to her, Xander challenged him, “Were you one of them?”
Adjusting his hat, the stranger inclined his head, “You might say she and I had one common interest.”
A pair of dark sunglasses covered his eyes, but she could feel his gaze drifting across her skin like crawling spiders. “Bingo?” She knew there were no European boy toys in her grandmother’s life, but his words bated her into keeping the conversation going instead of having Faith toss him out on his ass.
Mouth twisting in amusement, he answered, “No. I am but a guest of your mayor. We were conducting business today and he wished to be here to show his respects. I also offer mine.”
“City Hall is a busy place these days,” she said suddenly thinking that Willow’s spell hadn’t gone wrong. Only the sun beaming down from overhead suggested there was another explanation. “New people coming and going.”
“I will be here for some time.”
“Lucky us.”
The golden ring on his finger glinted in the sunlight he pressed his well manicured hand against his chest as a sign of his good intentions. Reaching out, he lifted her hand with his fingertips, gave a little bow and pressed his lips to her skin. Both hand and lips were cool to the touch, which gave her a major wiggins, but he couldn’t be a vampire. Unless that was moonlight overhead, he had to be just some cold-blooded guy.
Cordelia yanked her hand out of his. The hasty step back alerted Faith something was wrong. She’d been staring at the stranger, a weird feeling settling in her gut, but thought maybe it was just the fact that Mayor Wilkins was watching her every breath. When he quietly signaled, she moved away to speak with him.
Giles moved up to put a hand on her shoulder, taking the opportunity to get a closer look at the stranger. “Cordelia, perhaps it is time you were going,” he suggested.
Shrugging his hand away, she huffed, “Don’t be rude, Giles. I haven’t even talked to Mrs. Finkle yet. This nice, expensively dressed stranger with the foreign accent can’t possibly say or do anything with the newspaper reporter hanging around taking all sorts of pictures.” She reminded everyone of the public setting, but hinted about her suspicions. “Bad press sucks, doesn’t it?”
The mayor’s guest remained calm. “Such things do not concern me. My intentions toward you are sincere, Miss Chase. You may grieve for your grandmother. Cleanse yourself of sorrow and seek what solace you can.”
Buffy couldn’t tell if he was wishing her well or if there was an underlying threat to his words. Either way, this guy was setting off her Spidey senses like crazy. Usually that only happened with vampires, but there was something strange about this guy. She’d been waiting for Faith to say something, but it looked like she was busy talking to the mayor.
Deciding not to wait any longer and ignoring the fact that it might be rude to order people around at a funeral, Buffy nudged Xander aside and stepped beside Cordelia. “Maybe you should back off,” she told him staring up from her petite height, yet still sounding confident and commanding.
He had the audacity to look affronted. “I am unwelcome?”
“Good guess,” Buffy took another step forward. The man backed off a step, but he looked angry rather than intimidated. Beneath the smooth manners and the snazzy suit, he exuded power. The air between them charged with tension.
For an instant, Cordelia thought Buffy was going to deck him, but Faith charged in to grab her by the elbow. “Buff, what the hell are you doing?”
Wild-eyed and ready to fight, Buffy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Faith had to sense the same thing she did. “You’re kidding, right?”
“He’s a guest of the mayor,” Faith reminded.
“This is a funeral, not a tourist attraction.”
Cordelia didn’t want to hear it. “Thanks for coming. I think you should go now,” she dismissed both the stranger and the mayor.
“Not so fast, Cor,” urged Faith, glancing back at Wilkins who wore his usual pleasant smile. After unclenching her teeth, she followed the orders he had quietly issued and introduced them. “This is Henri. I-I met him last week when I was helping out at the mayor’s office. Y’know, volunteering.”
Whatever ‘volunteer’ work Faith did for the mayor was still a mystery to Cordelia, but the fact that she knew this guy made her feel a little stupid about suspecting him. He couldn’t be a vampire, not standing out in the sun this way. The hat might shade his skin, but there was no way he could avoid direct light.
“So you actually know Henri?” Cordelia knew Faith well enough to notice the tension in her face. “Funny that you didn’t mention meeting any hot European men.”
Henri smiled at Faith and touched a finger to a curling strand of hair at her shoulder. “How could I forget?” She shot him a look and he moved his hand away very slowly. “Things were kind of busy last week.”
Buffy couldn’t believe that Cordelia or any of them were buying this. The way Henri had touched Faith gave her goosebumps and not in a good way. “Leave. Now. Before I decide to take you to see Cordelia’s boyfriend. You can tell him all about your good intentions.”
“Geez, Buffy, stop being so paranoid.” Even as she said it, Cordelia couldn’t quite let her own feelings of suspicion go, though her voice softened a bit as she realized that Buffy had just admitted aloud that Angel was her boyfriend. “You practically mauled the man.”
Still feeling that weird vibe, Buffy decided she’d had enough of it. “Sorry. My bad. I guess I’m a little off today.” She stalked off across the cemetery taking the shortcut back to the mansion, with Willow trailing after her.
Cordelia started to apologize, but Henri stopped her. Adjusting his hat again, he assured her, “Your friend wishes only to protect you from undesirable attentions.”
“Something like that.”
“Now I must take my leave,” Henri bowed slightly before walking straight past the mayor toward the waiting limousine.
Next to her, Xander muttered, “About time.”
The mayor nodded pleasantly to everyone, but paused briefly to pat the slayer’s cheek. “See you again soon, Faithy.”
Mrs. Finkle appeared just as they left, full of tears and comments about the flowers, the ceremony and missing bingo nights with Bev. Cordelia did her best to listen, but her boss’ mention of Bev drew her focus back to the grave again, where the coffin lay half-covered in dirt, and the groundskeepers hovered nearby in order to finish the job.
The pastor came over to say a few final words before leaving. Cordelia heard him, but the words didn’t really sink in. It was all kind of surreal. The drive back to the mansion was the same, mostly a blur. Xander sitting by her side. Giles driving. No one talking. Silence.
She got out of the car, anxious to get inside and fall into Angel’s arms. The door was already opening. He was standing there too close to the sliver of sunlight angling in from above, just as anxious to know how things went and whether she was okay.
Wes’ motorcycle pulled up right behind them. “Stay out of my business,” yelled Faith as she yanked the helmet off of her head and dropped it to the ground. They’d been arguing the entire way from the cemetery. She looked around at everyone staring in her direction, “Shit,” then darted up the steps shoving past Angel to get inside.
“On the contrary,” Wesley followed right behind her, walking swiftly, his back as stiff as a board, “as your watcher, every decision you make is my business.”
This time, Angel moved out of the way. When Cordelia came running up the steps, he pulled her aside. “What’s going on? Buffy and Willow got back a few minutes ago saying they had a run in with a suspicious stranger at the funeral, but you wouldn’t let her get rid of him.”
Cordelia didn’t deny it. “Faith says she met him before. At the mayor’s office no less. I’ll be right back.” She kissed him quickly and moved toward the basement door. “Do me a favor. Grab some paper and a pen.”
Angel had no intention of leaving her side until he heard more of what was going on. He signaled Xander to head to the study to get what she asked for. While on his way, Xander complained loudly, “Why am I always fetching and carrying around here?”
No one answered him. They were too busy following Cordelia down to the basement where Faith was doing terminal damage to a punching bag despite the fact that she was still dressed for the funeral. Giles had gone straight down and was huddled in a corner with Wesley having a very quiet and serious conversation. It stopped the moment they spotted her.
“I hate it when people do that,” Cordelia complained. “Are you talking about me or just keeping secrets in general? No, don’t bother answering. Leave. I need to talk to Faith.”
The rhythmic beat of fist against leather stopped as Faith slowly turned to face her looking pissed off and defiant. This wasn’t exactly the homecoming Cordelia planned today. A relaxing bubble bath and sympathetic snuggling weren’t on the horizon at the moment.
“Go ahead, Cor, but they should hear this. I’m their business, after all. Did I mention that I fucking hate being played?”
Giles lifted his glasses and rubbed his eyes before responding. “There is no need for that tone, Faith. Let me explain.”
“Explain?” Cordelia huffed. “Then tell me what Faith is doing ‘volunteering’ at City Hall. There’s no future for slayers in politics.”
Carefully choosing his words, Giles told her, “You have friends at school. Surely you can’t begrudge Faith other interests.”
“But he’s a snake,” Cordelia argued vehemently, her hair flying wildly around her shoulders as she gestured with her hands in the air, “a slimy, two-faced used car salesman. Bev knew what he was like and I trust her instincts.”
Wes drolly commented, “Yours are certainly spot on.” He turned away, crossing his arms in front of him when Giles gave him a stern stare.
Giles asked her, “Are you just concerned about Faith’s choice of friends, or was there something else?”
“Yes! What’s the deal with making nice-nice with that guy? Kind of coincidental isn’t it that he’s hanging around the mayor after Willow’s spell showed Isobel was at City Hall yesterday.”
Standing with Buffy at the top of the stairs, Willow squeaked triumphantly, “Hah! It knew it worked.”
Buffy took the steps one by one. “Did you really meet him last week?”
“I said so, didn’t I?” Faith dropped her gaze to her reddened knuckles.
“Who the hell are we talking about?” Angel demanded. He had heard the bit about the suspicious stranger, but now it was someone Faith knew from City Hall.
“His name’s Henri,” Cordelia explained that Faith never gave them a last name. “He’s got cold hands and a creepy stare. Kind of a pale guy with a Euro accent. Dressed to kill. Wants me to cleanse my sorrows or something.”
The name meant nothing to Angel, but he stepped closer to Cordelia asking her for a detailed description. She told him everything including the corny bow and kissing her hand. “I thought I’d like that until someone actually did it.”
Angel’s hand closed over her wrist. Lifting it, he scented her skin. When he looked into her eyes again, his were filled with rage. “Vampire.”
“No, h-his name was Henri,” Cordelia reminded him, suddenly frightened by the storm brewing in his eyes. Anger wasn’t the half of it. “He had to be human. There was no shade. He couldn’t be a vampire standing out there in the sun.”
Releasing her wrist, Angel curled his hand into a fist and punched the wooden post holding up the banister. The stairs shook causing its three occupants to scream. “He did this to piss me off,” he shouted over the noise.
Wesley and Giles called out for him to calm down, but his anger was suddenly turned on them. “You want me to calm down when you promise me that Cordy will be safe and then you let him have a conversation with her, let him touch her?”
“Cordelia was in no immediate danger,” Giles assured him, though he wasn’t certain how true that was considering his suspicions.
“He’s playing games with you.” Turning around, Angel moved toward Faith with a sudden burst of speed. He wrapped his hand around her throat and pushed her back against the brick wall, raising her up so that her feet barely touched the ground. He moved in close to pin her down forestalling any attempt at escape.
There were shouts in the background, demands to stop, words of caution, but there was nothing going to prevent Angel from getting the information he wanted. “Faith, I want the truth and I want it right now. The mayor’s dirty hands aren’t a secret in this town. Cordy’s right about your ‘volunteer’ work being a load of crap. What’s that all about, Faith? Tell me, do you still slay vampires, or is there something else going on with Nicolau that we should know about?”
Trying to pry his hands away, gasping for air, Faith tried to speak. Angel loosened his hold just enough to let her answer. “What? No, I swear. Ask Giles.”
“She’s telling the truth,” Giles didn’t wait to be asked. He held out his hands in front of him. “The only orders Faith has been following have been mine.”
Buffy gasped, stunned by the revelation. “What orders?”
“The mayor isn’t what he seems. Faith has been feeding him false information and gathering Intel on his illegal activities. Something big is coming up, but we haven’t been able to pin anything down yet.”
“Faith is a double agent?” Xander ooohed at the idea. “Cool.”
Slowly, Angel lowered her back to the ground. Faith started coughing the moment he released her, catching her knees with both hands as she doubled over. Standing, she looked him in the eye, “Don’t ever do that again,” and punched him squarely in the jaw.
Angel’s head jerked sideways with the impact, but he took the punch without further retaliation realizing that maybe he deserved it.
“Why’d you mention Nicolau?” Cordelia moved over to take a look at his jaw noticing a bruise already starting to form. “The guy’s name was Henri.”
Faith sighed. “Henri was the name of my pet canary. I never actually saw this guy before today.”
Distracted by the thought of Faith having any kind of pet, her jaw dropped, “You had a canary?”
“It died.”
“Oh.”
Explaining that Mayor Wilkins asked her to smooth things over between Cordelia and his guest, Faith told them she had no choice other than to do what she was told. “He didn’t give me a name, so I made one up.”
Wesley still wasn’t comfortable with the subterfuge. They had argued about it on the drive back to the mansion. “The way Buffy reacted suggests that she sensed he was not human.”
Looking confused about the whole thing, Buffy admitted, “When I first met Angel, I had no idea he was a vampire, but now I can pretty much figure it out, mostly. This guy wasn’t normal. I thought, maybe he was a thrall, controlled by vampires. One of those villagers.”
“Kind of a kick in the gut,” Faith nodded. “I felt it too, but Wilkins is schmoozing him for some reason. I don’t know what he’s planning.”
Angel didn’t care what their reason were, but this business with the mayor allowed Cordelia to be put in harms way. “Sounds like you’d better find out what it is.”
“Don’t give me that shit, Angel,” Faith wasn’t about to let him bark orders at her. It was more than enough to get it from Giles and the mayor. “I did what I had to do. Cordelia is back safe and sound.”
“That wasn’t a villager, or a thrall performing at his master’s bidding,” Angel ground out. “It was Nicolau returning the message I sent with Isobel.”
Cordelia freaked out, “That was Nicolau?”
“Yeah, and he wanted me to know he’s making this personal.”
The others argued about their safety precautions. They mentioned the cloudless sky and the hot sun. Theories flew back and forth including Xander’s snarky suggestion of ‘Sunblock SPF 10,000’.
Willow brought up the one that made the most sense. “Could it be magic?”
Even Angel conceded that it was possible. Strong magic. It would have to be almost as powerful as a curse and as difficult to procure. Otherwise, every vampire on the street would be looking for a spell.
“Do you still want this, Cordy?” asked Xander handing her the pen and paper.
“Oh, I almost forgot about it.” She sketched something out as the others looked on. It was rough. Drawing was not her forte. “I saw something. When I thought Henri was just the village idiot, I figured this might be important, but if he’s really Nicolau, then it has to be.”
Cordelia handed the sketch to Giles. “With my eye for expensive jewelry, I couldn’t help but notice his ring.” It was mostly gold, but inlaid with onyx creating a unique design, one that looked more like a symbol.
Giles turned pale as he looked at it. “Are you certain?”
Before Wesley could take it, Angel snagged it out of Giles’ hand. The sketch was very rough, but not what he expected. Every vampire clan had its own markings, a crest that identifies its territories and properties to other clans. “This is a demon brand. It symbolizes Nicolau’s allegiance to his demon god.”
“No,” Giles responded stiffly, “I fear it represents something far worse.”