Title: Riddle Me This…
Author: Helen
Posted: 05-22-2005
Email: helen_taft@msn.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: C/A
Summary & notes: This is in response to Kits ‘Charade’ challenge posted in the challenge thread (Page 4). None spoilery background is that Cordy left Sunnydale after ‘Lovers Walk’ and Buffy died fighting the Mayor. Set in the early days of Ats the fic is entirely AU. As for the CURSE, Willow passed out before she got to that particular proviso.
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with the show, its just fanfic! No profit made and no infringement intended. Also, the basis of the challenge follows Sandra Browns novel, Charade. I’ve not read it myself and won’t be in case it knocks me off stride.
Feedback: I’m totally drained and my muse is on the critical list, so, yes please. Also, feel free to include criticism too if you feel the urge so long as it’s constructive. Thanks for the FB on previous parts. Feel the love.
Posted: AO + ST
Distribution: Go team + Angel’s Archive + Just Fic
Dedication: To Califi for the beta of part 6. Also. to Kit for the challenge and letting me start in Ats not BTVS, and finally... huge smoochey thanks to Zanita for doing my fabulous ficpic.
Part 6 - Continued
Sacramento – 1942
“Angel, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know.” Serena sobbed. “I thought I could do it. I thought I could help you and then you might love me back.” She was kneeling on the dirty floor of the basement, surrounded by the paraphernalia of magic that she’d been brought up with and would now spell her doom. Tears tracked clean lines down a beautiful dirt stained face. Blue eyes identical to Anton Silverous, her powerful father and mentor, pleaded with him for understanding.
Stood over her, Angel couldn’t give her understanding, only horror tinged anger. “How could you?” he asked, stunned. “Do you have the slightest idea what you could have done, messing with my curse like that?” Dumbly shaking his head from side to side, he saw the move and stepped back from the lunged attempt to latch onto his legs. “Stay away from me, Serena,” he warned raggedly, still staggering under the enormity of what might have been.
Her confession still hadn’t sunk in properly and already Angel felt sick. “I thought you were my friend?” he whispered, betrayal ringing out.
Serena folded in on herself as if he’d struck her. “I am your friend. I love you. They tricked me, I swear. Angel, please help me.” A grazed sooty palm was held out to him in blind supplication, terror glazing those eyes. All around them the flickering of candlelight added a surreal aspect to underground room, highlighting the lurking darkness rather than keeping it at bay.
Ignoring the hand, he raked her with a seething glare before turning away to pace off, growling, “I can’t help you, how can I? According to you I can’t even help myself.”
With his back to her bitter self pity added to the mix. Why did this keep happening to him? He hadn’t led her on into believing he could return her feelings. Hell, he’d even asked Anton to intercede rather than hurt the girl he’d watched grow from a gangly twelve-year-old with too big eyes, to a striking woman.
Anton, Oh God! What was he going to say about all of this? Angel stilled with renewed horror at what this would do to Serena’s father.
Anton was his friend, a good man who’d taken a guilt-ridden, unstable vampire into his home and using slow coaxing had taught him how to find some small measure of peace. Angel owed him everything. This house sitting in a valley, surrounded by acres of dense woodland was a haven for balancing magic; owned by an order dedicated to keeping the demon world from infesting the human one and vice versa.
A haven until now. The air of the basement was thick with burnt blood. In the centre of the ravaged circle the small animal she’d sacrificed taunted him. In the time he’d spent under this roof he’d seen nothing like this. The lingering malevolence called to his demon. In attempting a spell to somehow alter his curse, she’d instead opened a gateway for a demon to enter this world. The gateway being her own body. Thanks to the deal she’d struck in ignorance, she had a few hours grace.
Fists clenched and staring blindly, he said, “This can’t be happening. It’s a nightmare.”
Trembling and drowning in shame, Serena sat up, curling her legs under the bedraggled and filthy skirt, “It’s real,” she said hopelessly. “I know what I have to do. I just know I can’t.” She’d tracked his agitated pacing with her heart squeezing in remorse. Every dream she’d carried from a young adolescent had been about him. Now he couldn’t even look at her. Her failure was complete.
Every muscle locked in outrage he spared her only a brief furious glance. “You’re not killing yourself, so don’t even think about it. There’s got be another way. We just have to find it.”
God damn it! Why was it that no matter how hard he tried, he brought destruction to anyone who tried to help him? Dimly, behind the roaring in his ears, Angel heard himself add, “We have to tell your father, maybe he can do something.”
That golden head jerked up, eyes wide with rejection. “No!” she shouted, “No, Angel, please?!” Sucking in a breath, fresh tears welled. Serena lifted a trembling hand to try and bite them back and then got to her feet. Wringing her hands, she pleaded with him, “Please, don’t tell my father about any of this. I’m begging you. I couldn’t bear that.”
A sudden leap of fury had him rounding on her, face hardening to reveal some of the darkness he’d wrought so effortlessly before being cursed with his soul. “You’re begging me,” he rasped.
The sound grated along her spine. Blanching, Serena tried to duck her head. Closing the distance he’d put between them inhumanly fast and grabbing her chin, Angel forced it back up to make her face him and what she’d done. “The curse has got nothing to do with why you and I can’t be together. I don’t feel like that about you.” He snarled, wishing he’d told her that before now, instead of cowardly hoping he wouldn’t have to.
“But they told me-“ she faltered under his blistering glare.
“You mean the demon you’ve let infest your body lied?” Angel bit out, sarcasm rife and let her go with a slight push before he did something he’d regret. “Go figure, its not like demons do that a lot now is it?”
Spinning in his heel he tossed up his hands and then swung back to snarl. “You are so unbelievably stupid. I can’t believe your father let you anywhere near magic.” It was a waste of time and effort, but Angel was helpless to stop the ranting. It helped him not think about what she’d done. So much for his vaunted self-control.
Helplessness drove him nuts, always had and this was no exception. “You’ve never practised the dark arts before in your whole life. It’s forbidden. What the hell made you think of trying it now?”
She opened her lips, but he jumped in and cut her off with a chopping motion of one hand, “Forget it. I don’t want to hear it.”
“You’re right, they lied about a lot of things and I was foolish enough to believe them. As much as I wish otherwise I wasn’t prepared for this and now I have to pay the price.”
It was time to lay it all out. “Angel, if I live past midnight my soul will be wrenched out, leaving my body behind to wreak havoc on the innocent. I think you know better than anyone why I can’t let that happen.” If nothing else, the teachings she’d abided by before love had seduced her held fast on one stark truth. “I must die before that happens.”
The stoic resignation, replacing the terror of a young woman faced with literally with bringing hell on earth pierced Angel’s anger. He mourned it because without that cushion the feelings he did have for her came through. If only she’d been satisfied with what he could offer, affection and caring.
Acid tears stung. Achingly he said, “Serena, I can’t kill you, please don’t ask me that.”
Closing the distance, her palm cupped his cheek and this time he didn’t pull back. “I know what it is I’m asking, but there is simply no-one else. I’d do it myself but they must have foreseen that and I still forfeit if I do. Angel, I must ask you one last time. Please save my soul.”
He still couldn’t accept how this must end. “There’s got to be another way.”
Blonde hair flew around slim shoulders as she shook her head. “This is an ancient entity, driven out back before time began. Somebody planned this well and I strayed into the trap.” Snatching her hand back, Serena let the seeping coldness flow into her face, turning her gaze crystal. “The demon you host is nothing compared to what I’ve let return. If you refuse to do what I ask, then you’ll be as culpable for what follows as I am.”
She could see the moment he began to accept and pushed back her own fears. It wasn’t fair, but she was fiercely glad that if she had to die now it was like this. Stepping away, Serena lifted aside the curtain of tangled golden hair to bare her neck. In the pause she tried to sooth him, “Maybe this is meant to happen. Maybe this was a part of their plan all along that you be the one to kill me. Don’t let them have the satisfaction of failing, or tormenting yourself over things you can’t change.”
Reaching out for his hand, Serena held his gaze unwaveringly and felt sick with relief when Angel took a slow painfully reluctant step towards her. When he reflexively jerked back from what he was considering doing, she refused to let him and pulled him closer. His face hovered inches over her neck. Sliding her eyes shut and taking a deep breath, she quivered and said huskily, “Kill me now, Angel, and if you will give me one thing before I die. Lie and tell me you could have loved me.”
~
As it turned out, the demons who’d destroyed Serena hadn’t entirely lied, but he hadn’t found that out until much later in Sunnydale following his moment of bliss. Thinking about it, Buffy had reminded him very strongly of Serena. Maybe that explained why he’d been almost predisposed to falling in love with the slayer. Not that the guilt had left him. Only with Cordelia did he feel free of guilt. The problem was, finally ready to admit he had deeper feelings for the feisty brunette, Angel had a hunch all of that was about to change, too.
He hadn’t had to drink from Serena to kill her, but knowing she wanted it done that way, Angel hadn’t been able to deny her. Making it as painless as possible he’d bitten and drained her, then cradled the slumped body as he ascended up from the bowels of the building he’d come to call home. Laying her in her bed, he’d left her for Anton to find and then disappeared.
Angel hadn’t left any explanations because he hadn’t had the heart to sully his friend’s memories of his only beloved child. Now, facing him sixty years later and with Wesley and Kate listening in, he lowered the sword so that the tip pointed harmlessly at the floor and said, “I didn’t kill her to save my own soul, Anton, but hers.”
“Lies,” the old man hissed, “I won’t listen to your pitiful excuses, vampire. I took you into my home and you destroyed it. There are no excuses.” Hatred burned with maniacal fire. Jerkily nodding his head, Anton said, “Take your humans and leave. I will see you again when it is time for you to pay.”
“Wait! You don’t understand…” Sensing they were out of time, Angel made a hasty, desperate move for the man he once would have died to protect, “…Let me explain and stop this madness-“
Spinning a complete circle on powerful legs one of the demons ejected its spear, and howling a battle cry, slashed him across the middle before its master could shout an order to desist. Staggering and falling heavily to his knees with an agonised grunt, Angel hugged his abdomen to try and halt the blood leaking from the deep slash. Badly wounded, he couldn’t lift his sword arm even if he wanted to.
Head whirling, he yanked his senses back into a semblance of order and blurrily saw the supernatural entourage were almost gone. Falling onto his side to roll to face the exit, Angel tried one last time. “Anton, wait. It doesn’t have to be with is way,” he groaned, lifting tormented eyes to catch the other mans. “You have to believe me. I swear I never meant her harm.”
From the temple beyond the door, Anton hesitated for a fraction of a second before letting the darkness swallow him whole again. “I see you haven’t lost your touch, Angel; still able to seem so sincere. You sicken me. I will not stop– ever. Besides, I have gone too far down this path to stop even if I wanted to.”
PART 7
A ghostly hand dragged the duvet off Cordelia’s shoulders waking her instantly. Rolling over and squinting in annoyance, she said sharply, “Dennis what the hell are you doing? If this is some kind of phantoms revenge for me staying out all night- I’m gonna…”
The slow knocking at the front door halted her before she got snippy enough to warrant an apology. “Oh right, door- thanks.” Still not exactly happy at being pulled out from a deep sleep, she grumbled the whole distance from her bed to the door.
Slapping on lights as she went, she growled, “Whoever you are you’d better have a damned good excuse for getting me up out of a warm bed at 3 frickin’ am in the morning. That’s all I can say. Geeze, between two jobs you’d think a girl would be entitled to some shut-eye once in a while.”
Pulling back the bolts and throwing open the door, her jaw dropped open at finding Angel leaning drunkenly against the outside frame. Before the embarrassment that had kept her awake for a good hour could rear its head, she noticed the pale, stricken cast of his features and realised it wasn’t drink. “Cordy,” he said and raising a blood-stained hand, lost some balance and began to topple.
“Whoa, what happened to you?” she yelped catching him and nearly tumbling back to the floor, only with him on top this time. “Geeze, you weigh a ton,” she complained without thinking, concerned more than it showed. His belly jumped under hand and she felt the stickiness of what could only be blood. His shirt was soaked through. Her white t-shirt wasn’t faring so well either.
“Sorry,” Angel rasped in pain and tried to stiffen up. “I shouldn’t have bothered you-“
“Well you did, so don’t be dumb, Angel. Besides, we’re a team aren’t we? Saying that- where’s Wesley, is he okay?” With his balance restored enough to take some of his own weight, she found it easy to manoeuvre him towards her bedroom. The couch would probably have done, but if for whatever reason it wasn’t, she didn’t fancy trying to move him once he was down.
Biting his lip as every step jarred his wound, Angel reassured her, “Wesley’s fine. He’s escorting Kate home. I was supposed to go back to the apartment…I wasn’t planning to come here, but-“
“But somebody lied and told you I was Florence Nightingale in the flesh.” Hazel eyes rolled, “Forget why, you here now.” Honesty forced her to add, “Word of warning though, this is a first for me and if it’s really bad, I may barf.” The fact that he was stumbling over his words worried Cordelia a lot. With an arm around his back and shoulder jammed under his right side, they made slow progress.
Head swimming with pain, Angel hardly knew what he was saying, “You don’t have to patch me up. I just needed to see you.”
That raised a brow, both of them- high. “Yeah well you can look your fill while I patch you up.” What else could she say? Wondering what the urgency was, insecurities over their kiss swung back into action. Concentrating on keeping them upright, she pushed them back until later.
Alternately pulling and tugging, Cordelia managed to get them through her bedroom door. Dennis turned up the light to full power while she pushed him to sit and knelt between his legs. Grasping a hand to begin pulling off the leather duster, curiosity got the better of her. “So, why the urgent need to see me?”
He was paler than wax, way worse than usual. Heavy lidded dark eyes struggled to focus on her face. “Wanted to I guess,” Angel admitted blurrily and lifted an unsteady hand to clumsily brush back the dark curls obscuring her face. “Do you have any idea how precious you are?” he asked unsteadily.
“Precious?” she repeated taken aback. Wow, if he gets like this every time he’s injured I may have to sharpen some stake knives myself. Forgetting everything for a moment, Cordelia’s delighted smile stretched from ear to ear. “You wanted to see me, in the middle of the night and for no reason at all?”
Just then the sleeve finally gave up and let her tug it off. “Yeah; sorry if I woke you,” he said, hissing in pain when she pulled the heavy coat across his back to peel off the other sleeve.
“If you don’t mention that then I won’t have to ….and Oh my God! Who did this to you?” Crouching back down, she’d finally seen the wound and gaping, wondered at the stubbornness of a vampire who could drive out of his way in this condition. Her mood did a u-turn. “You’re insane for coming out here. What if you’d crashed and the car went up like a skyrocket, huh. Just because your immortal doesn’t mean you can’t get killed. Hello! Fire?”
A gentle finger shushed her before her voice got high enough to crack glass, “I’m fine. Vampire, remember? I heal fast. This’ll be gone by tonight.”
Lips tingling, she was caught by the first truly unguarded expression she’d ever seen on him. Cordelia swallowed a lump, saying, “Yeah right. I have eyes. I can see how *not* okay you are, dumbass.”
Grasping the hand and laying it on her shoulder to keep it out of the way, her gentle unbuttoning and peeling back of his shirt was completely at odds with the harsh words. Seeing just how bad it was helped unruffle her frazzled nerves and she was almost calm. Scowling, she flicked him an impatient look and demanded, “Next time, call me and I’ll come to you, okay.”
“Okay,” agreed Angel, happy enough to agree to anything to wipe the scowl off her face; adding a soft plea, “Don’t be mad.”
Refusing to be caught off guard again, she didn’t meet his eyes. Wadding up the shirt, she mumbled, “Well, don’t you just get all sappy when you’ve lost a little blood?” Then standing with a deep sigh, she pushed him down to lie flat, admitting, “This isn’t mad, trust me, you’d know mad when you saw it. This is me worried about you and since you saved my ass not so long ago, I reckon I’m allowed.”
Examining the wound seemed a lot safer than analysing his action. Wincing at the long gash with its open sides, she told him to scoot up the bed while she dug out some medical supplies from the kitchen.
“Cordy,” Angel calling her name stopped her at the door. Turning a little impatiently she caught his muttered, “We need to talk,” and rolled her eyes in mild exasperation.
“Tell me about it. But it can wait two minutes while I get something to cover that gaping slash in your chest. You might not mind it, but it’s making me want to hurl.”
Coming back less than a minute later, she was half expecting him to not have moved an inch. The big lug had looked pretty darned comfortable just hogging the end of the bed. Why that gave her a thrill she’d examine a lot later. Rounding the door Cordelia stopped in her tracks, shocked at seeing a floating pair of pants being folded in mid-air. Although, not for the usual reasons.
“Dennis!” she hissed mortified, “He’s wounded on his belly…not down there. We didn’t need to take them off. Are you trying to humiliate me here or what?”
Thankfully the overly helpful ghost had also covered the now naked and unconscious vampire with the duvet, carefully tucked as it was to lie just under the drying wound. Toying with the idea of putting them back on, she gave it up over the risk of waking him in the middle of it.
Teeth gritted and reaching for patience, she dumped the bandages on the bed and stalked to her dresser in search of scissors. “Fine, I guess it’s too late now, damn it. Next time wait until I ask though, okay?” Rummaging inside the second to top drawer, she hissed at her ghost, “Geeze, embarrassing much? You are so explaining in the morning even if you have to draw a picture to do it. Clear?”
Then with the supplies gathered, she climbed huffily on the bed and sat back on her heels to study him. Angel was out of it; sunk deep into a vampire sleep she had no idea how to disturb.
Picking up a roll of crepe she got busy snipping, talking to herself as she did. “Like I even want to wake him, especially since he’d naked.” A brief glare was aimed at the ceiling, “This is good. This way I can just get it done and get some sleep of my own.”
The idea of sleeping in the same bed as Angel was disturbing for all kinds of reasons she didn’t want to dwell on. So she didn’t. With long lengths cut and reaching for the bottle she’d snagged as an after-thought, she poured some of the yellow fluid onto a wad of cotton wool and started dabbing the antiseptic fluid on the long open slit, wondering the whole time why the hell she was bothering.
“It’s not like your gonna get an infection or anything, turn green then keel over. I guess being dead does have its advantages, huh?”
Getting the bandages on him was a struggle though. In the end she settled for wrapping a bandage around his abdomen; grateful it wasn’t higher up where she couldn’t push the bandage roll under the small of his back. Finished, surveying her handiwork and trying not to linger with feminine appreciation on the muscled planes of one very impressive masculine chest, Cordelia felt exhaustion drop in the wake of the excitement.
Coming to the crunch the sofa held about as much appeal as a bed of nails. Scrubbing her face to alleviate the tired ache with both hands, she sighed through them and griped, “I knew I should have put you on the sofa. The state you’re in, you wouldn’t have noticed it’s too small.”
It was too late now. As the saying went, she’d made her bed and now she was going to have to lie in it, vampire and all. “Ugh, I don’t care. This is officially the freakiest Friday ever. Meaning, I might as well make a complete night of it.”
Decision made and pulling off fluffy bunny slippers to toss them into the corner of the room, she slid under the duvet next to Angel. There, head resting on the pillow with dark hair fanning across the crisp cotton, she hesitated and then finally laid a hand on the centre of his chest. “Night, Angel.”
~
Angel was dreaming. It started off very familiar, an old recurring one that hadn’t plagued him for a couple of decades. He was back in the Silverous’ basement and Serena was weeping, pleading with him to help her end her life. His dream-self felt every bit as trapped and helpless as Angel had on that terrible night. Foresight doesn’t exist in dreams anymore than in real life. He’d never been given the chance to imagine, even for a second, going back and being able to change what he’d been forced to do.
Hearing her high-pitched, wailing scream through two floors, he found Serena’s crumpled form exactly as he had sixty years previously. Knowing what was coming, he tried battling back the memories unleashed at the temple, but they continued to stream out; only as sometimes happens in dreams the scene warped. It was the very worst part of the dream and she had hold of his hand, pulling him into a deadly embrace. Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, as if blocking out the sight of her neck with its hammering pulse would halt the call to his demon. Angel opened them again to find instead of tangled blonde hair and glazed blue eyes, he was staring down into Cordelia’s face.
Confused and uneasy, he whispered her name, “Cordelia?”
She showed none of Serena’s defeat. “Should I be pissed you even have to ask?” A perfect brow arched in unison with a teasing sideways smile.
“No…I just…” shaking his head, he tried again, “I didn’t expect you here.” Her hand was warm in his and without intending to he found himself clasping a hip to pull her in.
She came without resistance and his relief was palpable. There was no trembling for this woman, and the air was redolent with perfume rather than fear. “I’m glad you’re here,” he admitted and it was patently true. In fact it was he that was shaking not her.
Coming up on tiptoe she brushed his lips with hers, and said, “Good. I’m reserving judgement until after you kiss me.”
This time there was no hesitation and the invitation was superfluous. Before the last word was out, he was already grasping her neck to keep her in place as he lowered his head to kiss her. It was even sweeter than before. Angel kept as tight hold as he dared afraid she was mirage that would melt away if he didn’t. Seeking some desperately needed reassurance, he deepened the kiss; taking it further, faster than he had before.
Cupping her ear and tracing the delicate line of her jaw with a thumb, he felt it open as he surged inside. She met him and passion ignited, causing his whole body to tighten. Close wasn’t anywhere near close enough. Hooking an arm around her slim waist, he lifted her up so they were flush from the thighs up. Through two layers of clothing he felt the tight points of beaded nipples against his chest. Pure, dumb need battered at him and if he could, Angel would have joined them then and there. Restraining himself was exquisitely agony. Tingles raced wherever they touched and he throbbed with borrowed life as desire roared.
The dream became a time out of time. An oasis from the horror gathering on the horizon. When she breathed he did, too, and hoarded it inside a chest that ached with emotions he couldn’t name. For years now he’d been saving people in an effort to redeem himself, but it had taken Cordelia to save him from himself. Locked away inside his head with her, he felt alive again.
Her panting was choppy and ragged. Reluctantly accepting he had to let Cordelia recover some breath, Angel released her lips and trailed butterfly kisses along the sweep of her jaw. Drawn like a lodestone to the delicate arch of her neck, he suckled the skin shielding the rapid tattoo of her pulse. As he did clutching hands speared into his hair; burrowing through the thickness of it to press his face closer. He was in heaven until tucking her head so he was nestled, caught with that sweet flesh under his tongue, Cordelia asked, “So, is this the part where you kill me?”
The shock of it catapulted him out of the dream and back into wakefulness.
~
For the second time in a single night, Cordelia was woken from a deep sleep with a start. This time it was with Angel suddenly jack-knifing upright and dislodging her from the perch she’d made for herself on his broad chest. Eyes popping open she blinked and focused on his stark profile, watching uncomprehendingly as he jerked his head around to stare down at her.
He was as tense as a bowstring. “Cordelia?” he asked hoarsely.
“Yeah- what’s up?” Night time or not she had no problem seeing the feverish light in his eyes. It was an hour or so before dawn and the semi gloom turned brown to pure glittering black. Seeing didn’t mean believing, “Angel?!” she queried sharply.
Instead of an answer, Cordelia found herself flattened to the bed with a defensive hand planted to a muscled chest, trying to keep him at bay. “Do you think I could hurt you?” A deep voice asked somewhere above her head.
Staring back with a befuddled frown in place, she replied, “I haven’t given it a thought. Which…kind of answers your question, right?” Lying beneath him she was doing her damndest *not* to think about the fact that he was naked, half straddling her, and deliciously heavy. Oh God! You just had to think of that didn’t you?
His skin was damp with sweat, giving her a clue. Her expression cleared. “Angel, have you just had a nightmare?” That would go a long way toward explaining his weird behaviour. He was shaking, too. She relaxed and her hand unconsciously travelled up smooth skin to his collarbone.
“Everything is a nightmare,” he said cryptically then finished gutturally, “I can’t lose you, too,” and that it seemed was the end of any conversation.
Breathing ceased as her mouth was taken with passionate force. Inside, white fuzz replaced conscious thought as Angel relit the embers doused so abruptly by Wesley’s voicemail. Embarrassment, insecurity and doubts didn’t stand a chance under an onslaught of stunned pleasure, all the more compelling because it was pulled from her reluctantly. Before he’d knocked on her door, Cordelia had been on the verge of retreating back behind her walls, certain she was heading for heartache if she didn’t. Recalling any of that became impossible.
However many mindless minutes later, she gasped in lungful's of air when the kiss ended and his head dug into the pillow next to hers. Braced, hard hands grasped the neckline of her sleep-shirt to tear the white cotton right down the middle. It should have angered her and would have if it had been anyone else. Cool air washed over her breasts and belly, and then Angel was kissing her again, sweeping invasions so full of desperation her senses spun out of orbit. Being needed was her Achilles heel, carefully hidden from everyone, even herself. His feverish intensity called to the deepest parts of her soul and made her want to weep.
With Angel propped on his side; curved around her body laid flat before him, doing any exploring of her own was frustratingly limited. Cordelia didn’t let that deter her and she slid her palms over a powerful torso that flexed and bunched under her hands; marvelling at the silky feel of his skin. It was only encountering the rough bandages, some lucidity returned. “Wait, your wound?” It killed her to say it, especially since the feel of his hand kneading her breast was lighting a trail of sensation that shot straight to her womb.
His only response was to cup the full underside and suckle the budded nipple deep into his mouth. Streaks replaced the sizzle as nerves she’d forgotten she had where jolted back to blazing life. Conscious thought ceased as the smouldering heat in her belly grew, and clasping his head Cordelia arched up in a silent plea that he take more, do more.
The same hand that had cradled her breast then travelled down her body, following the indent of her waist; sliding under the loose elastic of cotton shorts to stroke through damp curls of hair. She tensed but not with fear. Anticipation was electric. Lovemaking was a pleasure remembered occasionally and wrapped in misty memories of a sweet, brief fling that ended with smiles. This was as different from that as night was from day.
Sweetness paled in comparison to torrid heat. More so, because that heat was startling different to the cool fingers that glided over flesh already slick with liquid arousal. Adeptly parting her, his middle finger dipped unerringly into the warm centre to plunge deep and hard. Quivering, Cordelia moaned long and low before he took her mouth again and thrust past teeth clenched with need.
Tongues dancing and retreating, Angel mimicked the rhythmic plunge of his finger and skilfully drove her wild. A past master at bringing both pleasure and agony, sometimes together and sometimes part, he used those merciless skills now. A thumb skilfully circled the tiny bundle of nerves that held the key to the first as he added a second finger, tormenting her with the imitation of the real thing.
Writhing and clinging with her nails dug into those broad shoulders, Cordelia ground her head into the pillow and moaned again as the uncoiling tension unravelled her senses. Pinned by a heavy leg over hers, there was no respite, and the deep inner rasp of his fingers inside only teased her more with the promise of a fullness she’d already begun to crave. Hips undulating with mindless abandon, she thrashed under his hand until he was forced to straddle her fully.
As if a signal had been given the frenzied tempo increased as the shorts joined the tee-shirt. Naked as he was now, Cordelia felt her thighs kneed apart to make way for him and the heavy, softening in her sex intensified as anticipation quickened inside her.
“Oh God! I want you, hurry up,” she panted thickly, and rearing up wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him down to her. She wanted his weight on her almost as much as the wanted the smooth broad head she could feel rubbing over her sex to penetrate. Rushed helter-skelter to the edge, Cordelia was frantic to be swept over it.
Mounted and poised, Angel pushed up on his hands for leverage and then hesitated. His complete silence was finally explained when hazel eyes flew up to clash with piercing brown. Inside, everything seemed to lurch for Cordelia as time suspended on a single moment. Arms braced and muscles locked, he looked almost unhinged- savage even. His hard face was taut as he hung over her with eyes that glittered under slashing brows. What speared straight to her very heart though was the vulnerability revealed in the slant of his mouth turned rosy with kissing.
God! Her tongue felt too thick for speech. Who needed speech? She decided recklessly and tightening her legs around his hips, thrust up demandingly. Above her his jaw clenched hard enough to crack, but he met her challenge. Clasping her bottom, Angel lifted her up to meet his thrust and then pumped fast and shallow, stretching her. Shuddering with mutual relief and burgeoning tension, they groaned in unison.
Finally joined the wild ride finished as quickly as it had begun, shattering them both with the intensity of it as they rocked and surged together; straining for a completion that wrung every drop of energy out of vampire and human alike.
~
London, England
The pub was one of the less salubrious types; lacking any of the modern touches that lift others to trendy and homey. The dark wooden floor was simply grimy and sticky rather than stained. Once white walls were not so artistically streaked with ancient tobacco stains and the bar itself looked more like a carnival reject with bottles instead of skittles on the dust laden shelves.
Supping gingerly at the frothy top of his pint of bitter and trying not to feel guilty about the cigarette perched smoking in the large ashtray, Teddy sat and waited. The entrance doors were in his direct line of sight, and opened a surprising number of times before the man he was to meet entered the dim interior. He raised a discreet hand and saw the nod of acknowledgment before the man approached the bar to order a drink.
A few minutes later and another pint glass joined his on the table. Thumbing back the top of the pack of cigarettes Teddy offered one to the equally grey haired man who lowered himself onto the opposite bench.
“Thanks.” One was taken and then lit from a flaring match, “I’d heard you’d given up the weed, Theo?” said the newcomer with a wary smile behind the curling tendrils of smoke.
Teddy had told him a few times not call him Theo, but this time he had more important things on his mind than pet-hates. “I did. Look, Seb, do you mind if we skip the pleasantries and get to the point. It’s rather important that I’m not missed and perhaps let the cat get out of the bag prematurely.”
Intelligent grey eyes narrowed with interest, “Certainly, let’s skip. I’m intrigued about such clandestine urgency, I must admit.”
Ten minutes later and intrigue had been replaced by cautious alarm and not a small amount of sly calculation. Sebastian Wyevan was the Council’s Director of Overseas Operations, and most importantly had been the Harry’s chief rival for becoming Director General four years previously. A fact Teddy was banking on to aid him.
“Let me see if I have the facts straight,” said Seb, grinding out another cigarette, “You hacked into Harry’s email, personal email I might add and found this,” he waved a printed piece of paper casually in the air, “which was sent to Wolfram & Hart a few weeks ago.”
“Wolfram & Hart are a dubious concern to put it mildly,” added Teddy before draining the dregs from his glass.
“I’m aware of their activities,” advised Seb with a cold smile. “That’s is my business after all. Carrying on, this email suggests that Harry has been involved in a plot to commit several murders all aimed at unsouling a vampire. Is that it?”
“Isn’t that enough? And it’s not just any vampire, but Angelus. A name I’m sure you’re also familiar with.”
An inclination of the head was confirmation enough. Gory details weren’t necessary for one of the most infamous vampires of the last three centuries. “You’ve been busy, Theo. Tell me, what is Harry’s motive in all of this?”
“How would I know?”
“Guess. This is all very circumstantial and if you want me to perform some kind of coup to get rid of Harry, then I need more.”
The word coup was enough to have Teddy feeling sick. They had never had anything like this happen within the Watcher’s Council in seven centuries. “I’m only guessing but the way I see it is this.”
Taking a deep breath he reels off the things that had been circling his head ever since finding out from Silas who had ordered that scroll translated, “Within months of Harry taking the reins Buffy Summers, the latest Slayer takes up with Angel, the souled version of Angelus.” The ricochets of that news still rang clear in his memory even several years later.
“Then, not long after that she and her watcher defies the council during her training, resulting in Rupert Giles being struck off. Worse, Angelus returns and nearly sucks the world into hell. Summers disappears with grief for having to banish him. Comes back swiftly followed by her demon lover and then defies the council yet again once the rogue Slayer Faith, already unstable and jealous over Angel’s attentions to Buffy, poisons him with an arrow. Are you seeing where I’m going with this?”
Face carefully blank, Seb waves him on.
“To top it off, Wesley Wyndham Pryce, who is distantly related to him, is fired for incompetence and promptly takes up with the same vampire. Putting it bluntly, Harry’s whole term has been riddled with controversy and failure and it doesn’t take much of a stretch to see the common denominator.”
“Angelus.”
“I hear he prefers Angel now, but essentially, yes.”
“All supposing you’re right, it still doesn’t explain why Harry would plot to remove the soul, slaying the creature would be better surely.”
“Not if he wants to recoup some of his losses by arranging for Angelus, once he’s committed a few atrocities, to meet a dusty end. That would certainly impress the Governing Board and turn around his track record almost immediately.”
There was a pause. Then Seb grinned and raised his still half full glass in a mocking toast, “You’re a scary fellow, Theo, I’ll give you that.”
PART 8
Cordelia had driven them back to the office that morning. Angel tucked under a blanket to protect himself from the 11 am sun had hardly said a word. Gnawing her bottom lip as she navigated the light, post 9am rush, she decided to leave him to his brooding so she could do some of her own. All of the doubts and insecurities that had been melted to nothing by the heat of passion had come roaring back the second she’d opened her eyes.
Great timing, huh? Now, sitting behind her desk she was just grateful Wesley was off doing something else, because she didn’t feel up to pretending all was right in the Cordyverse. Did Angel regret their lovemaking? That was the crux of her problem. Somewhere between their first kiss; waking up to find he’d dragged himself; wounded no less, halfway across town to see her and falling asleep with her arms around him, Cordelia had realized she was in love with him.
“Geeze, is it too much to ask for a little reassurance, or enlightenment about how he feels about me?”
Three things happened at once to jolt her back from her own problems; the phone rang, the door opened and the clear sound of the elevator cage door being thrust back indicated Angel had returned to his office. Dithering for a few beats she finally jabbed the flashing line to answer the call and waved Detective Kate Lockley further inside the dim office.
It was Wesley on the phone. Angel stepped out of his office and she felt his brief look in her direction right down to her toes. Giving Wes half her attention she heard Angel politely ask Kate to come inside his office. It was the ‘where we won’t be disturbed’ part that burned her. What an Asshole!
“Cordelia, are you listening?” Wesley’s irritable voice sounded out of the receiver.
No! “Sure” she lied, glaring daggers at Angel’s closed office door, “You’ve made an appointment to see somebody. They won’t come into the office, because they have a vamp phobia so they’re coming to your place. Did I miss anything?”
“No, no- that’s the lot,” conceded Wesley with a hint of contrition. “You’ll let Angel know where I am?”
“If I see him- yeah,” Sarcasm was so often evident in her voice, Wes missed the new edge. That pissed her off even more. If you couldn’t trust your co-workers to spot when you weren’t happy then who could you? Would it hurt to just ask her if she was okay? “See ya later, Wes,” she finished on a sigh knowing she was being completely unreasonable. Hanging up she cupped her chin to stare glumly at the sun blazing beyond the screen of blinds.
It was Saturday morning. She shouldn’t even be here. Driving Angel safely back home was one thing, but why was she staying? Pensive fingers tapped a tattoo on the desk while the desktop’s screensaver bounced from one corner of the screen to another. Oblivious, Cordelia sat mired in thought.
Kate Lockley was pretty, blonde and blue-eyed, dedicated and earnest. The single time she’d met the detective, Cordy had felt her hackles rise within the space of a minute. She hadn’t bothered analysing why at the time and now she didn’t have to. When Kate walked in the office, she didn’t see anyone other than Angel, and that bugged the crap out of her. Cordelia was used to being noticed even when she didn’t want to be, but this wasn’t wounded vanity it was good ole’ fashioned jealousy. For the second time in her fairly short life, blonde save-the-world-gal was raising a blip on her inner radar.
A red mist rose as ire escalated. A hand slammed on the desk. “Okay, that does it. Ya know what, screw this. I shouldn’t be even worrying about this crap.” Logging off with a scowl and snatching up her purse, she stalked around the desk; tossing his closed door a fulminating glare on the way past.
“Geeze, whatever happened to waking up with a rosy glow and basking in the affections of a new lover. Breakfast in bed would have been nice. He can cook can’t he? Jackass!”
Angel’s door opened just as she yanked the outer office one open. Looking back with a scowl she saw Angel ushering Kate out. Seeing them together like that brought back an unwelcome memory of times past; him being tall and dark and her; short, blonde and badly dressed. The flashback brought with it a sick surge of anger.
She tamped it down. Okay, this is where I hang onto what pride I have left and just go.
Too late. Seeing his gaze bounce from her empty chair, to where she was standing by the door, Cordelia pasted on a fake smile to cover the grinding of her teeth, and said, “I could see you were busy, so thought I’d leave you guys to it. Three’s a crowd, right?”
Angel froze and Kate blinked as if seeing her for the first time. And this is a trained professional supposed to be protecting the community? Geeze, here’s me thinking actual detective work needs actual observation skills.. After hundreds of hours practising for auditions the smile didn’t slip even a tiny bit.
On the other side of the office, dark eyes flared and turned piercing. Cordelia suddenly felt as transparent as glass and she didn’t like it one little bit. Opening her mouth to say more, she thought better of it and went to sail frostily out of the office door.
“Cordelia, wait” demanded Angel firmly.
He may as well have just said Cordelia unload. “What for, you to get chatty and stop treating me like some kind of jackal woman?” She hadn’t meant to say it, she really, really hadn’t. Ah, who the hell cared?
Hip cocked, Cordelia crossed her arms and abandoned the casual façade. Every line of her body; from the top of glossy hair piled haphazardly onto the top of her head, right down to the horribly expensive open-toed sandals, screamed scathing.
Catching her drift, Angel stiffened and his eyes narrowed. “I think you mean Coyote woman and don’t be ridiculous.” His voice was soft with a warning that she let it go until they were alone.
Next to him, Kate was a picture of piggy-in-the-middle and looked ready to bolt with her wary glance ping-ponging between employee and employer. Cordelia almost felt sorry for her. The almost made all the difference. She was a big girl and besides she was just the audience. Angel was the true target.
Leaping to the conclusion Angel didn’t want Kate to know he’d boned his secretary; a bristling Cordelia went on the offensive. Slammed the door shut she let loose with both barrels. “Oh, so I’m being ridiculous now, huh? Pity you didn’t feel that way last night in bed and saved me the grief of quitting this dumb job.”
That scored. As if he’d been punched, Angel’s chin lifted in shock.
She wasn’t finished. Turning to Kate and arching a brow, Cordelia gave her a once over and smirked, “Word of warning, detective, don’t give up your day job to work for this jerk. He’s a typical guy with just enough smarts not to chase a girl around the desk…” Pausing she slid Angel an evil look before adding, “scratch that in fact-“
The hard hand snagging her elbow was unexpected because she hadn’t even seen him move. Hauled away at blurring speed, she heard a dark voice grind out somewhere over her head, “Kate, you’ll have to see yourself out. Close the door will you?”
The one to his office slammed behind them. “Hey!” she protested and yanked loose, massaging her elbow for show.
“You are unbelievable do you know that?” Angel grated.
“Look who’s talking, dumbass?” she retorted and breath quickening, refused to acknowledge the wariness draining her temper. Damn it, she hated it when that happened.
Opting not to push it, Angel perched on the edge of his desk, hands gripping the edge to stop them from wanting to grab hold and shake her. Her threat to quit had catapulted him right to the edge of his temper.
As calmly as possible he asked, “Want to tell what the hell was all that about?”
It would be so much less intimidating if he actually shouted. Angel never shouted and his softest voice could either give her chills or heat her blood. Now was not a good reminder of that. On the spot, she blurted, “You haven’t said ten words to me since we woke up, and then we get here and cop lady arrives all…sickeningly doe-eyed and there you are lapping it up. What do you expect me to think?” Even to her own ears it sounded borderline hysterical.
Taken aback, Angel focused on the last two since he had no excuse for the first. Crossing his arms he said, “Kate isn’t doe-eyed and I don’t lap anything up.”
Mirroring him, Cordelia crossed her arms, too; then replied snippily, “She is too, and it’s gross.”
Was Kate’s attraction so obvious? He hadn’t thought so. Confusion softened his face, but kept the frown in place, “I don’t think of Kate that way. Why would I?”
Arms uncrossing, she tossed up her hands, “Hello! Gung-ho blonde, you’re eternal temptation and don’t even try and deny it, Angel. I’ve seen it before, remember?” Despising the topic as much as she did, keeping still was impossible.
Pacing she sniped, “Thinking about it. I can’t believe you passed up the opportunity. Oh wait don’t tell me. You were mining the angst and thought I’d do as a stop-gap. Well think again, buddy-boy. I am nobody’s fill-in.”
Keeping track of her physically and mentally was dizzying. At a loss the frown dug deeper. “You aren’t a stop-gap and I don’t have a thing for blondes, gung-ho or otherwise.”
Halting, she ticked them off on her fingers, “Darla, Buffy, Kate-“
“Druscilla and a couple of hundred others weren’t. And in case you missed it the first time, I’m not interested in Kate.”
Distracted, Cordelia queried, “Hundreds?”
Angel didn’t bat a lash, “I’m nearly 250 years-old, Cordelia. I bust my cherry a long time ago.” The crudeness was deliberate, aimed at jolting her off her headlong flight towards deeper and sillier waters.
There was a heavy pause. “Great. So now I’m just the latest in a very long line.” Not even a little bit mollified, she growled, “I think I preferred the other idea.”
Angel pinched the bridge of his nose as if he was at the end of his patience. “Cordelia most of those were when I was Angelus and no, I’m not going into details. You’re not the latest in a long line if it’s just been– never mind. Can we move on?”
“Sure.” Flopping into a chair, she tacked on, “Angelus was a man-ho by the way.”
“I’ll let that one pass,” Angel lied, “Are we done with the jealous tantrum?”
Jealous tantrum? Denial was automatic and in the circumstances, jumbled, “Me-jealous? Are you… that’s so not true.” Pulling herself together, she tried again with a bluff, “Excuse me, I’m the one men get jealous over, not the other way around.”
A dark brow quirked, “What else would you call it?”
Cornered by her own sense of honesty, she squired. Crap! Did he have to make such an issue of it? Where was the gentleman when you needed him? “Yeah well,” Triumphantly she batted it back at him. “It’s your fault for giving me the morning after from hell.”
He’d given worse. Wincing, Angel relaxed his shoulders and jammed his hands in his pockets, aiming for laid-back, unthreatening and contrite. “You’re right. I know I did and I’m sorry for that...I just didn’t know what to say. I didn’t exactly plan it you know. My love life has never been the stable and nurturing kind.”
“In case you were wondering.” Cordelia said, “You’re digging the hole deeper.”
It was the disappointment behind the sarcasm that got to him. Every day keeping his lies from her was getting harder and harder. The kiss hadn’t been his worst mistake. Keeping the truth from her got that honour. Pushing away from the desk and dropping his arms, Angel slowly closed the distance and refused to drop her gaze.
When he was stood close enough she had to tip up her chin to see him, he hunkered down and said low, “Not really. Think about it. I don’t normally lose control like that.”
She followed his line of reasoning but it wasn’t nearly enough. “I don’t want…Sorry, rephrasing, I refuse to be an itch you need to scratch. I want more than that, Angel. A lot more.”
“Last night wasn’t about my libido, Cordelia.” Sighing, Angel rose and catching a hand on the way, drew her up with him. “Look I wish I had the words to reassure you right now, but I don’t- not yet. When this case is over I swear I’ll make it up to you. Can you put it on trust until then?” Angel could only hope the intensity he was feeling; willing her to understand and accept, was reflected on his face.
It was and Cordelia was buffeted by conflicting emotions, chief among them was frustration and relief. He had to care about her to look at her like that, didn’t he? Not knowing for sure allowed frustration to edge ahead. Asking flat out if he loved her was tempting, but she discarded thinking it had to come without prompting.
“I might if I understood what the hell was going on here. What’s a case got to do with you and me?” Hazel eyes went wide as she connected the dots, “Is this something to do with last night and you getting all sliced’n’diced?”
A cool finger ghosted over her lips to shush her. “I’ll wrap this up as quickly as I can and then I’ll tell you everything. No holds barred.”
It was the best he could offer. This morning watching her sleep, he’d finally accepted that not telling her straight off had been a colossal mistake. But, confessing he loved her now would be a worse one, because after all the deception she’d throw it back in his face the second she found out about the heart. He’d been at a complete loss on what to say to her from the moment she’d woken.
What he was saying was enough to raise her suspicions anyway. A stiff finger poked him dead centre in the chest. “I don’t like this, Angel, I don’t like being kept in the dark,” she warned and tried not to let his unusually open expression melt her. It was hard, because when he wanted to his eyes turned from bitter brown to warm chocolate, thick enough to drown in.
“Why can’t you just tell me now and get it over with?”
“I would if I could, but I can’t. I have my reasons. Trust me,” he asked huskily.
Cordelia looked so wary and torn the urge to hold her, pull her in and wrap his arms around her was compulsive. So strong that Angel could feel her there already; her head tucked under his chin and dark silky strands tickling his neck. Knowing Cordelia, she’d try to pull away and he’d murmur soothing nothings in her ear until she softened and stopped resisting him. It was a tempting idea, but after last night he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t take her further down that road until everything was out in the open, it wasn’t right.
“Alright, but I still don’t like this and I’m going on record with that,” Cordelia finally conceded, adding with another stabbing finger, “And I better agree with those reasons or you are on my stink-list, buster.”
Angel smiled, he couldn’t help it. Conceding a little to appease both of them, he snagged the finger and after dropping a light kiss on it, ran his hands lightly up her bare arms, “Cordy, all I’m asking for is a few days, and them I’m all about us. You have my word,” Angel said sombrely.
Then tightening his hold a fraction, he moved the conversation on, “And since you brought it up earlier. I’m not letting you quit either, so get that idea out of your head.”
The diversion worked only because she let it. Tipping her chin higher to eye him squarely, she looked more than a little bit stubborn, “Really? I hate to break it to you and ruin your domineering boss act, but going off memory that isn’t actually a decision you can make, Angel.”
“I can be persuasive when I want to be, and if that doesn’t work unremitting stalking would soon wear you down.” His rare grin invited her to return it and hid the real purpose behind the casual warning. After the last 24 hours Angel had come to a simple conclusion. There was no way in hell Cordelia was disappearing out of his life. He was going to make this work.
~
London, England
The phone rang and rang. Just when he was convinced the call was going to be transferred to that blasted answer phone yet again, a woman answered. “Angel Investigations, we help the helpless.”
At bloody last! “Wesley Wyndham Pryce, please.”
“Sorry, he’s out, so’s Angel. I’m Cordelia Chase, can I take a message?”
Perky and approachable or not, if it wasn’t for the fact that time was getting on, he wouldn’t have even considered it. He was still reluctant. “My name is Theodore Georges. I’d like to leave a message for-“
She interrupted him, “Hold on let me grab a pen.” There was some rustling on the other end of the line, “Okay, got it, shoot.”
“Tell him, we’ve had a lot of trouble our end. It appears the murders of the potential Summer’s donor recipients all lead back here to some degree.”
“Donor recipients?” she asked sharply.
“Yes, the ritual removal of the hearts from the victims. The killers are searching for the living heart of a slayer. You have a client who was on the list is what Giles told me.”
Dead silence greeted that explanation. Then she said, “Right, I forgot. Please do go on. Believe me, I’m all ears.”
Fleetingly, he wondered at the new, acid edge to her voice. Pressing on, he said, “After Giles phoned me I searched the Council’s archives and found a copied remnant of a scroll detailing an ancient spell to remove a soul. The original of that scroll was given to Wolfram & Hart by our Director General,” pausing, Teddy sighed, “It’s a long story.”
“I bet.”
“I’m having our experts hear draw up another in English from memory, meaning it will be sketchy and likely inaccurate, but it may help and since we feel partially responsible-“
“I get the picture. We don’t have a fax here.”
He frowned over the distance in her voice; doubting she even know what he was talking about? “I wouldn’t trust a document like this to a facsimile anyway.” Automatically checking his watch, Teddy informed her, “Given the urgency of the situation, I’m bringing it personally. I’ll be on the next flight out of Heathrow. I’ll be getting into LAX early tomorrow morning.” He didn’t mention he wouldn’t be alone.
“I’ll let him know. Thanks for the call, it’s been…enlightening.”
Abruptly the line went dead. It wasn’t that disconnection that had him going stiff though, but the second click that followed almost immediately afterwards. He sat frozen with the receiver still pressed to his ear; realising somebody had been listening into the conversation. The question was why? Not to mention it was eight thirty pm and the building was supposedly empty.
Leaving his office as stealthily as possible, he stood in the main hallway and stopped breathing, straining to listen for any telltale sounds. Only a few lights remained. Nothing triggered his alarms. Taking the stairs, Teddy descended as quickly as he could and thought back to that brief conversation. Worried all of a sudden that he’d inadvertently revealed something?
There were no lights lit on the first floor. Going on a hunch, he carried on down to reception and on the last flight heard a voice that could have been male or female, it was so hushed.
“Make sure you have the name right, its very important. Corr-de-lia Chase.
~
Pulled from unpleasant contemplation of his notes by the knock on his door, Wesley dropped his pen and snatching up the axe left next to his chair as a precaution, silently approached and checked the peep-hole. Expecting some kind of nuisance salesman trying to sell him yet another thigh-master, he was unprepared for an eyeful of irate Cordelia.
Fumbling with the locks, he opened the door wide and said, “Cordelia, I wasn’t expecting you. Is something up?”
“Depends on your definition of up, but yeah, you could say something’s definitely wrong.”
Turning from a brief unimpressed survey of the small sparsely furnished apartment, Cordelia levelled Wesley with a baleful stare. “I have a few questions and I want the truth, Wesley. I’ve had a bellyful of lying, already.”
She’d stumbled across something. Bloody hell now he was in for it. “Questions,” he queried lamely and felt his belly sink even further.
“I just took a call of some British guy. You might know him, Theodore somebody. Sounded like Watchers Council. He said something about a scroll, a spell and my personal favourite, Buffy Summers heart.”
She’d crossed her arms, which was never a good sign. For some reason he was far more unnerved facing this woman in a visibly wrathful mood, than the demons last night. During his short acquaintance with her, Cordelia had impressed him with a lot of things; including the foolishness of raising her ire.
Shutting the door, he quaked at refusing and tried some redirection instead. “Cordelia, you really should be talking to Angel about this. I’m not in a position to-“
“You’re not in a position to turn me down. I’m not leaving until you tell me what I want to know, Wes, so get used to the idea.”
“Angel-“
“Can kiss my ass,” she finished for him. “I want the whole skinny on this heart donor case.” The tone suggested the quicker the better for his health. “And you can start by telling me whether Angel and I meeting up again was one big set-up from the get-go.”
Was that pain? Wesley wondered before the flash of temper buried it in hazel depths. Stupid question, of course it was. He felt worse with the realisation that things had progressed between Cordelia and Angel more that he’d envisaged. Feeling compelled to offer some comfort, he said carefully, “Not initially, no.”
That small admission was the opening of the floodgates. “But soon…before I started working with you? She prodded almost unwillingly like it was an open wound.
Wesley nodded and this time he saw the longer flash of pain at the confirmation. Full lips twisted bitterly, “So, he did know about my heart transplant, and thinks I have Buffy’s?”
The change that knowledge wrought was startling. Face crumpling the grit and pride keeping her back stiff deserted her. When she spun away to stare sightlessly at the overflowing coffee table with its haphazard array of papers, journals and books, Wesley was almost glad to be able to dismiss the uncomfortable urge to offer a more tangible form of comfort. Patting shoulders consolingly was usually his limit. Hugs were an uncouth invasion of privacy in the Wyndham Pryce household. Knowing that was a load of bollocks didn’t make attempting something so alien any easier, unfortunately.
Caught up in a surge of guilt, he almost missed her mumbled, “I guess that explains a lot.”
It didn’t need explaining and very simply that did it. No matter Angel’s reasons for keeping her in the dark, Wesley would no longer stomach the situation. It would not help ease pride or pain, but being armed with the truth was the only thing he could give her.
Catching her elbow with as much solicitous care as he could muster, Wesley waved at an empty spot on the couch and said, “Sit down, Cordelia. I agree its past time you knew the truth. I promise I will tell all. No hold barred. It’s the least I can do.”
~
With the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled up and collar loosened under the tie, Lindsay McDonald was the picture of a young executive working hard. The ear piece tucked into his left ear and mouth piece position in front of his lips meant he could prowl as he talked. Lindsay thrived on pressure, particularly when he was able to lift it.
“Yes sir. We have a lead on the name.” There was a pause as he listened, “I’m aware it’s taken a long time, but I guess you just can’t account for the incompetence of the hospital administration. The title was a typing error. C Chase is a woman, not a man. Her name is Cordelia Chase.”
Another pause and Lindsey poured himself some coffee as he listened attentively. The corners of his lips lifted in pleasure. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate your confidence in me. One of my contacts paid off, although I’m sorry to report that avenue has now been compromised. The Council is off limits as of my last conversation.”
Perched against his solid oak and streamlined modern desk, he took a sip of the bitter black brew he preferred, and eyed Lee observing him with detached interest from the chair. He got a kick out knowing this little success was being witnessed by a peer. Peers are rivals at Wolfram & Hart. Smoothly he said, “Oh I agree it’s nice to be able to get back fully into the game. This part is crucial to our long-term plans and I assure you they will come to fruition.”
Kissing ass was an everyday chore at Wolfram & Hart no matter how high up the ladder you scrambled. Lee wasn’t fazed and listened a little enviously as Lindsay happily accepted a few more minutes of praise.
When the phone accessories were tossed on the desk, Lee met Lindsay’s grin and snapped off a zippy salute. “Well, two guesses whose office wonder-boy now.”
Lindsay’s grin twisted into a smirk. Rubbing a finger over his lips to try and disguise it, he aimed for business-like. “Holland wants us to move immediately to seize the girl. We already have a home address and I need you to look into any known contacts.”
“Sure, I’m on it. I love being blood hound. It’s in my blood.” When a star was rising, experience said grab on and use that momentum while it was still in an ascendancy. Lee was more than happy to help. He was the kind of guy that always backed the winning team, usually because he dropped a losing one.
Lindsay pushed away from his perch and got back to being busy again. “We have to move fast. This girl is walking around with the key to banishing Angel’s soul beating inside her chest. If he has a lick of sense he’ll kill her. Either that or the Watchers Council will arrange it. For obvious reasons we don’t want that to happen.”
~
Numb to her core, Cordelia hadn’t been able to face accepting a lift home from a concerned Wesley. Instead she’d taken the bus. Thanks to the route not being direct she’d ended up on three of the noisy and crowded things. The time should have given her a chance to get over the shock, only so far it was still refusing to dissipate. Knowing if it was anger or pain lurking beneath the anaesthetizing layer would have been nice. Give her a chance to prepare.
The pretty, brightly lit entrance to her apartment was the same as always. Knowing sanctuary from prying eyes was at hand, she let her mind return to lick the wounds the day had left. Thinking about Angel and the night before was agonising. So was thinking of Buffy and wondering hysterically if she really did have the slayers heart beating in her chest. The irony of it wasn’t lost on Cordelia. If it was true, then Buffy’s heart was the one driving life-giving blood through her veins.
Climbing the stairs and leaning heavily on the railing, she shook her head in repeated denial. That was the truly unbelievable part. Fate couldn’t be that cruel could it? Why her? Anyone else would have been better. They’d barely managed to declare a ceasefire even when she was dating Xander, one of Buffy’s little Scoobies. They’d all been wary of her, unable to believe the nastiest girl in Sunnydale history was tamed. They hadn’t been wrong.
Being a bitch hadn’t just been fun to her back in the bad old days of high-school, it had been a vocation. Comforting herself with the fact that she’d rarely lied didn’t really help, because from the moment she’d been old enough to understand social structure and her place in it, she’d used the truth as a weapon to hurt. Now faced with the truth of why Angel had seemed so drawn to her, Cordelia was hurting, too, and hated every second of it.
Cheated on and used by the Scoobies, ignored and then abandoned by her parents, homeless, destitute and thinking she was dying, and now this. When was the punishment going to end?
Reaching her door without seeing a single step, Cordelia rummaged in her purse for the keys and slid them in the lock. Twisting and pushing, she was left blankly staring when a desperate force shoved from the other side, closing the door in her face.
“What the…”
Trying again, the same thing happened. “Dennis!” she growled, not in the mood for games. Anger leaked to the surface. “Stop being an asshole and let me in.”
Then before she could try again another force slammed into the door from the other side, hard enough she yelped and stumbled back. The door opened as she fell back and something decidedly inhuman and scaly pushed through the gap, trying to widen the gap.
Heart beating sickeningly fast, Cordelia unfroze as Dennis managed to slam the door shut again, keeping the barrier between the demon and his mistress. Legs trembling, Cordelia didn’t wait to see if she’d been imagining things and took off down the hallway again, nearly falling over the banister as she careened around the corner and raced back down the stairs. Above her a splintering crash warned that her period of grace had run out.
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