Title:Riddle Me This…
Author: Helen
Posted: 6-24-2005
Email: helen_taft@msn.com
Rating: NC-17 + R – Violence and scary stuff
Pairing: C/A
Summary & notes: This is in response to a challenge posted in the challenge thread of ST (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: Please and also, feel free to include criticism too if you feel the urge so long as it’s constructive. Thanks everyone for the FB on previous parts :hug:
Posted: AO & ST
Distribution: Go team + Angel’s Archive + Just Fic
Notes: A special thanks goes to Cerian for her help with the heart transplant research and Zanita for doing my fabulous ficpic.

---

PART TEN (Continued)


She led the way through a maze of corridors and derelict rooms filled with yet more milling kids. One of the rooms they passed through was filling with dead bodies. Recognising of them, Angel felt sick fury rise up.

Cordelia’s friend from the gym had lived another few hours. Escaping only to die at the place she’d sought refuge. Sudden guilt sucker-punched him. Maybe these kids have been fighting vamps for years he thought, but it was my mistakes with Cordy that racked the stakes up too high. Responsibility weighed heavily.

Oblivious the girl motioned him on and walking through to the next room, she pointed at a tall heavily built young black. She needn’t have bothered, Angel would have guessed he was Gunn. Standing between two trestle tables covered with an arsenal of weaponry, he was passing them out like they were going to war.

He had a wild, reckless air that Angel empathised with. He knew what it felt like to lose a loved one, knew how every second of delay before he went after her was like a hot poker in his soul. Unlike this man however, Angel had learned patience and how not to fall into the trap of thinking determined zeal would win the day. When he remembered that lesson anyway.

Introductions would be superfluous, so Angel didn’t bother with them yet. “Do you have a vampire nest in the area?” he asked loud enough to pierce Gunn’s intense concentration.

”Who wants to know?” asked Gunn fiercely. He conceded only a brief glance from checking a crossbow and handing it over to a plump, cherubic looking Latino roughly half his size.

Feet planted apart and hands loose at his sides, Angel braced himself. “Angel,” he said and took a wild guess, “I’m a friend of Cordelia’s. Although she probably told you otherwise.”

In the middle of testing a wicked looking hunting knife for sharpness, Gunn’s head jerked up with brown eyes narrowed to furious slits, “You the vamp?”

Denying it was useless. “That would be me,” Angel admitted and held up a hand, palm out, “But I don’t mean you or yours any harm. I just want to find Cordy and kill the things responsible for this.” He quirked a brow, “Seems to me we have at least the last thing in common.”

Human and vampire clashed. Finally, turning away, Gunn conceded, “Maybe, but first I want my sister back. After she’s safe I’ll make sure it never happens again. As for you, I don’t need help from no damned vamp to kill your kind- soul or no soul.”

If it wasn’t for the urgency, Angel knew he’d be facing a much more deadly debate than this one. Barely concealed hatred and distrust lay thick in the air. A few of the kids who were close enough to pick up on what was said ranged a semi circle around him. Pale faces were twisted with grieving fury; the staring eyes hot with the urge to kill. It would only take one word for them to converge on him in a stabbing frenzy.

One of the kids got close enough for the spear with the stake on the end to be swatted aside. Angel didn’t twitch so much as a muscle. “If Cordy told you about me, I’m betting she told you we’re on the same side. I can help you.”

“I told you-“

“We don’t have time for a debate,” said Angel cutting him off, “Its not just vamps you’re dealing with here. If you want your sister back as much as I want Cordy then you’ll listen to me.”

~

Cordelia was terrified but she’d figured out one thing. They couldn’t kill her until the time was right. If she was feeling optimistic that meant she had time to cook up an escape plan. Of course having a pair of the ugliest and meanest looking demon’s she’d ever seen flanking her wasn’t great for her chances of escape, no matter how much she racked her brains for inspiration.

It would help if she knew where she was, but it was pitch-black except for the circle of foul-smelling candles surrounding her. Even when her vision had adjusted all she could see was a dirty floor that seemed to go on forever, a few paint chipped columns and one wall with big boards covering what she assumed where windows.

Cordelia was hoarse from yelling and shaking from left-over adrenaline after being snatched and brought to wherever this was. If that wasn’t harrowing enough, watching as Alonna was given over the vampires as soon as they’d got here ranked pretty high in the twist-your-heart-right-out-of-your-chest stakes, too.

Even worse, Alonna’s screams had fallen silent a good long while ago. Cordelia might now have known the girl long, but sometimes a connection can be instant. Her grief over the brave street-fighters fate was almost as sharp as seeing Lily lying in a pool of her own blood. Losing them both; right before her eyes and helpless to do anything to help them was heartbreaking.

Behind the grief, escalating terror and pain, lurked a walloping load of guilt. With both arms clasped around her chilled body in a vain attempt to lessen the shaking, she couldn’t help thinking that if she hadn’t let hurt pride and humiliation prod her into running from Angel, they’d still be alive. In fact if it wasn’t for a stubborn instinct to survive that guilt may have been crippling.

Did that make her a bad person? Cordelia didn’t think so. If she lived to see tomorrow, then would be the time to sit down and workout how the crap had ended up hitting the fan so badly. The only good thing about any of this; if you could call it a good thing, was that these monsters had seriously underestimated Cordelia Chase if they thought she was cowed. Screw that!

Maybe it was vanity, or ego or whatever, but as far as she was concerned it took a lot of grit and stubbornness to have gotten this far in her life. Cordelia wasn’t cowed. She was pissed, royally pissed. The kind of pissed where if she got a chance she was going to be the one ripping some hearts out. She was tired of being a fate’s favourite victim. No more, damn it! I am *not* giving up without a fight. What are they gonna do- kill me?

Seeing a group of people emerge from the deeper darkness interrupted her attempts to shore up her courage. Belly sinking, Cordelia had a feeling she was going to regret thinking that last one. Of the seven or so figures three of them were human. Two of those were dressed in suits and the third was wearing some kind of burgundy silk robe. For some reason, she found the old man in the robes repulsively mesmerising.

Geeze, how’s that for contradictory?

Maybe it was a trick of the light, but as she watched them walk towards her, Cordelia saw a flash of pale at the periphery of her vision. Not sure why, she was certain there had been something furtive about it and hope soared for a moment. Trying not to make it obvious, she attempted to pierce the gloom in all directions and came up with nothing.

“Crap, so much for hope.”

Refusing to give-up on that sliver of hope, she carried on looking until robe-guy suddenly demanding she be ‘brought to the table’ kind of put a damper on her search. Jerking her attention back to the approaching group, the rattling she’d heard was explained as Cordelia spotted what looked like a mobile surgical table- with straps on each corner.

Her reaction was knee-jerk, “Oh, you are so not strapping me to that thing.”

Unfortunately her protests were ignored and in current circumstances brute force wasn’t something she could fight. Dragged, kicking and screeching she glared hotly up at the grinning vampire holding her down on the gurney. “God! I hate vampires,” she hissed up him, “Go eat one of your bosses. They look tasty.”

“I’d rather eat you, doll-face,” he said, topaz eyes gleaming with unholy appreciation, “And they’re not my bosses. We’ve made a mutually beneficial deal is all.”

Her lip curled. “Whatever…just keep you squinty eyes off my neck. I didn’t survive a hellmouth to come here and get snacked on by stinky vagrant-vamp.”

“This one knew the slayer according to our records,” a new voice broke in, “Kind of ironic don’t you think.”

Turning her head to locate him she realised it was one of the suits. Oily dark hair was scraped back, revealing a youthful face with eyes that suggested they’d seen and done things that would have Satan’s crusty toes curling.

“Indeed,” said the other suit, “however, let’s not be rude and introduce ourselves to Ms Chase. After all she did do us a huge favour by running away from Angel and practically right into our clutches.” Grey hair, smooth voice and a softly wrinkled face weren’t enough to hide bone-deep ruthlessness.

That hit home exactly like it was supposed to. There was a roaring in her ears that could have either been anger or panic. Deciding she preferred anger, Cordelia lifted her head off the thin mattress and jeered, “Ya think? Angel’s on his way here right now and getting ready to kick your wrinkly butts,” she prayed she wasn’t lying. “So, thanks for the front row seat. I’d hate to have missed the show.”

“You mean you’ve allowed yourself to get caught as part of an elaborate plan to draw us out?” He looked amused at the idea, “How noble and self-sacrificing of you, my dear. Let’s hope Angel gets here in time to save you.”

“Besides, how can you miss the show? You’re the star,” he continued with his head cocked enquiringly to one side. Then waved it all over as inconsequential, “Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, I’m Holland Manners…”

“I’d say it’s nice to meet you but I’d be lying.”

“…and this is my colleague, Lee from Wolfram & Hart, and finally that gentleman over there is, Anton Silverous.”

One hand was snagged and placed inside a strap. Wrenching it free with surprising strength, Cordelia cried out when the hand was re-captured with crushing force.

“Now, now,” interrupted Manners, “there really is no need to be so rough with her. Lee, perhaps our guest would be less resistant with a gentler, human touch,” he suggested, still all smooth, urbane charm.

“I don’t care who restrains her. Just get it done. My patience is wearing thin,” snapped the old man in the robes. Those were the first words he’d spoken and they didn’t bode well.

Cordelia’s skin crawled. Opening her mouth to disabuse them of the idea that she considered them human, she snapped it closed again, realising this might be the chance she was looking for. Slim but still a chance.

Holding her breath, she waited until he’d begun to slip the end into the buckle and then made her move. Whipping up her legs in a kick high enough to do a head roll, she caught Lee on the side of his face and continued with it until she rolled right off the end of the gurney. The second her feet touched the floor she was off, sprinting away from the circle and the momentarily stunned figures inside it.

Hardly daring to slow enough to see where she was going, Cordelia had no warning of whatever it was she ran into. Rebounding off the obstacle, she fell to the floor winded. Gasping, heart pounding and sickly aware she’d lost her chance, Cordelia blinked to clear the coloured spots floating in her vision and felt her jaw drop open with shock.

“Alonna?” she asked in hoarse disbelief.

“Hey, girlfriend,” grinned the young girl cockily. “What’s your hurry?”

Still trying to figure out why she was scared of the girl, Cordelia was powerless to resist the strong hands that wrapped around her upper arms to lift her up from her sprawl. When she was back on her feet it finally sunk in. “You’re a…a-“

“Vampire, yeah. Ain’t it the greatest?” Morphing with a growl into the horribly familiar face of a vampire, Alonna’s grin widened and winding back a fist, punched Cordelia hard enough that she was sent flying back towards the circle of lights she’d only just escaped.

---

PART ELEVEN

Coming too was a bitch. Her jaw felt like it had been broken. Grinding it and checking for missing teeth with her tongue, Cordelia did her best to ignore the knowledge that she was naked from the waist up. Well, actually she was totally naked except for something smooth and silky that was tucked around her waist and legs. Well, gee, thanks for preserving some of my modesty, guys.

And the humiliations just keep on a comin’ she sighed thinking, I should have just stayed in Sunnydale. At least then I’d have been eaten by now and saved myself this.

Finally the constant and low rumble of somebody chanting caught her attention. Chanting was never good, she knew. Hazel eyes snapped opened wide.

…and saw the most terrifying and butt-ugly face she’d ever laid eyes on. “Gross!”

Veins like blue worms mapped the face of the old man standing over her. It was so bad the rest of his skin looked purplish; which was really not a good colour-match for the yellow eyes. Now real panic took hold. Squirming on the mattress, Cordelia let loose an ear-splitting scream, and then began wrenching violently at the straps in a frenzied attempt to break free.

Stricken, Cordelia whipped her head from side-to-side, searching as far as she could see for someone to appeal to, and found nothing except avidly grinning vampires and worse.

Panting as she squirmed, Cordelia sensed the chanting reached a crescendo. Looking back up at Anton, she saw a knife was now poised over that monstrous head with its gleaming point aimed straight for her chest. Oh God- ogodgodgod

Purely on instinct, she sucked in a deep breath and lifting her chin, screamed as loud as she could, “ANGEL!!

The desperate scream was so loud it almost drowned out the sharp, splintering sound of breaking glass and wood. Almost but not quite. Instantly everyone looked up and to the side, toward where the sounds had come from; catching the crunch of something heavy landing just outside of the encircling candle-light.

Engrossed in his rituals, Anton was the single exception and Cordelia gave a shrill open-mouthed scream as the knife began its decent. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard a deep voice, yell, “Anton, NO!” just before there was a meaty thud and something black and solid appeared in the middle of a blood-red robe.

It was only when he staggered back, chin to his chest and staring disbelievingly down at the same object that Cordy recognised what it was. It was a knife handle made of very solid and very modern black plastic. The metallic clatter that followed was Anton’s own knife falling from his open hand.

That signalled all hell breaking loose. Shouts, yells, bangs and running footsteps heralded the sounds of pitch battle. Cordelia couldn’t take it all in. Outside of herself, strapped to the triple damned table, and the gruesome figure of Anton, everything was a mishmash of blurred, writhing shapes and snarling faces.

Beside her, Anton managed to pull the blade out of his body, sagging and gasping with pain as it finally slid free of his flesh. If there was blood it was impossible to see against the robes deep red. He stayed on his feet though and Cordelia wanted to scream at the injustice of it. Is it so much to ask that when a bad guy got stabbed he’d die, or at the very least be crippled with pain?

After flinging the knife at Anton in a desperate bid to save Cordelia, Angel had been forced to defend himself from the mage’s pet hell-beasts. Forewarned by growling breathes that reeked of unimaginable things, he spotted something big moving in fast and turned to meet it.

It was like standing in between the tracks and letting the next freight train run you over. It was all he could do to stand his ground. Grappling with its arms and pinching the elbows between his thumb and fingers to try and prevent its spears from ejecting, Angel saw a second one loping towards them out of the corner of his eye. Rather deal with two of them at once; a super fast way of ending up properly dead in his opinion, he hung on those necessary few second and then swung himself and the first demon around.

It wasn’t easy. The demon weighed a ton and add in the resistance factor and it was an inhuman feat. Vamping out gave him the extra strength he needed at the very last second. Not before time too, he thought when gnashing teeth nearly took off the front of his face. The second demon was unable to change the angle of its attack when suddenly finding its intended victim replaced by one of its own kind.

The twin spears that would have buried themselves in Angel’s back, instead impaled the demon he’d been wresting with. Staggering clear, he heard Anton roar a demand, “Defend me,” and zeroed back in on the mage just in time to see him clumsily swiping the ceremonial knife back off the floor.

“Damn it!” There was about forty ft between Angel and Anton with the third demon standing guard in-between.

All around him, vampires and street kids were battling it out in the derelict building’s ground floor. Somewhere nearby a flamethrower whooshed and the air sizzled followed by an angry roar of demonic pain. Madness ruled and the noise coming from all quarters was deafening.

Angel’s big mistake was getting distracted because it gave the second demon enough time to throw off its dead kindred and gather itself to pounce. In fact he was so distracted, it wasn’t until an axe flew past him and landed with a meaty thwump that he even became aware of the danger. A quick glance in the direction the axe had come from showed Gunn already swinging back into the fray and fighting the vampires.

Gratitude was brief out of necessity. Over by the gurney, Anton was clutching his abdomen with one hugging forearm and re-raising the knife with the other hand. Lunging to close the distance, Angel met the last demon with a leaping kick to the throat and didn’t stop to see where it landed, or for how long.

In that moment nothing else impinged on his mind except getting to Cordelia. Not the sudden arrival of Wesley, Rupert Giles and a third man. Not the vampire that tried to halt his progress only to be thrust aside like so much flotsam. Nothing except perhaps the ethereal sight of a blonde woman floating out of nowhere and …

Skidding to slow his impetus and make sense of it, Angel’s already pale face bleached white as the apparition seemed to sink into and merge with the desperately thrashing Cordelia. As it did the thrashing calmed.

~

Anton’s breath was whistling between teeth gritted against the fiery agony in his abdomen. Letting the sting of sweat drip into his eyes, he forced the arm holding the knife to rise in readiness to be plunge down. Chaos reigned behind him, but he refused to acknowledge the vampire. Other than to feel a distant satisfaction that he would be able to witness first-hand Angel’s horror at feeling the soul wrenched loose.

First things first, he needed the heart to commence the de-souling spell. With Ushkil at the fore, the girl meant nothing to him. He hardly saw her beyond the physical outline of her body and what it contained. Until the unbelievable happened.

Between one blink and the next; hazel eyes became blue and mussed brunette became soft gold. Staggered by the transformation, Anton felt as if he’d somehow driven the knife into his own heart. The hand holding the knife aloft trembled and then lowered slowly.

“Serena?” he whispered achingly.

“Hello, Daddy,” replied the girl on the table.

“It can’t be you?” he shook his head and trembled with a wave of grief that had never lessened, “This is some kind of trick, it has to be.”

“It is me,” replied Serena and those blue eyes turned moist, “I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.” She took in a wobbling breath, “Why did you keep pushing me away. I kept trying to reach you, but you wouldn’t let me.”

“No, I would never-“ he faltered realising the presence he’d been refusing to acknowledge had in fact been his daughter’s spirit. The horror of what she was saying was crippling. Anton didn’t want to believe it. The question was dragged from him, “You’ve seen it all?”

“Yes,” true anguish filled Serena’s expression, “Oh, Daddy how could you do those things? How could you let that thing inside you?”

Anton couldn’t look into that beloved face and see her despair of him. His hand shook as he lifted the silken sheet from his daughter’s waist and raised it until she was decently covered. “I missed you so much, child,” he whispered brokenly, “I went mad and Ushkil offered me revenge. It was the only thing that lessened the pain, knowing I could avenge you-”

“Angel isn’t responsible for my death, Daddy,” Serena interrupted, “Ushkil is. Angel saved my soul from the same fate that awaits yours. Except when he came to me I didn’t have the knowledge to make a deal like you have. I begged Angel to take my life before the few hours I had left were up.”

“No,” Anton was shaking his head before she’d finished, “I don’t believe that. My daughter would never have dabbled with such things. You’re lying. You are not my daughter.” The ravages of his face had receded with her appearance. Now rage re-infused him and the evidence of the demon he was hosting swept any softness and humanity away. Fingers clenched white over the knife’s handle and Anton’s voice turned hard, “This is nothing but a cheap trick to stop me.”

“Ushkil came to me and convinced me with lies to listen to him,” insisted Serena lifting her head to stare him down, “He mixed truth and falsehood to dangle what he knew I wanted most- Angel.”

“Lies,” shouted Anton, although he wasn’t sure if the words came from him.

“Why would Angel have killed me, Father,” she asked losing patience, “Give me a motive that you know to be true and I will leave you in peace.”

Anton repeated what sounded like a mantra, “The demon overrode the paltry soul and reasserted itself. He let it because the soul is as weak and corrupt as any vampire.”

“Who told you that…Ushkil?” she asked. Full lips twisted with irony, “You mean the demon you let infest your body lied? Go figure, its not like demons do that a lot now is it?”

~

Angel started hearing that. He’d said the same thing to Serena all those years ago. After sixty years they’d come full circle. The last demon protecting Anton hadn’t stayed down, and he’d had to split his attention between it and what was going on around the gurney and Cordelia.

Managing not to get slashed or skewered, but still battered and exhausted with arms like lead weights, Angel got back to his feet. Wrapping both hands around the sword’s leather pommel, he yanked the blade free of the dead demon and made a mental note to thank Wesley for his timely intervention. If it hadn’t been for him sliding the sword toward Angel before leaping onto the demon’s back, he’d likely be dust by now. Instead he’d given him time to garner as much strength as he could muster before taking it on in a final deadly round.

“She’s telling you the truth, Anton,” Angel said now, raising his voice to be heard over the din of ongoing battle. Rupert Giles pulled a winded Wesley back to his feet and it was four men that approached the mage with wary caution. “You trusted me then. Trust me now. I would never have hurt Serena, not for any reason-“

Anton whirled, “You did-“

“- except to save her,” finished Angel firmly.

The sword felt solid and reassuring. The weight of it was distributed evenly by the symmetry of a balanced hold. Angel held it casually but ready to swing into action if Cordelia was put under threat. As much as he hated the idea, the knowledge that this nightmare would end only with Anton’s death was rooted firmly in his mind. The only reason he didn’t lunge and finish him now was Serena. The dead girl had a purpose in revealing herself. Maybe she wanted to save her father from one more death, but Angel also felt certain that she was doing this for him, too.

Serena knew he was in love with Cordelia and was trying to help save her. That knowledge gave him peace…and hope.

Anton was visibly struggling with the demon and the revelations. Bent almost double with darker stains spreading over the robes, the knife was clutched by a bloodless hand in a desperate hold. He swung back to Serena, turning his back on the approaching watchers and vampire.

“I’m sorry. I have to finish this. I have to,” he said, a hoarse plea for forgiveness ringing out. “I wish it where otherwise but you’re already dead.” He continued, pleading as if asking for her blessing, “I can’t stop now, he won’t let me.”

“If you kill this girl, you’ll destroy the last vestiges of me still left in this world,” Serena said sadly adding a little desperately, “After sixty years I’ve finally found someone to leave my gift with. It will be like being killed all over again. Don’t do that to me, daddy, please!”

Hearing that, Anton seemed to collapse in on himself. He looked grey and old with the veins still engorged, but his eyes were human. The hand holding the knife trembled as if he were trying to open the fingers and drop it; only something wouldn’t let him. Rivulets of sweat dripped down from grey hair. Head hanging and breathing heavily as if he’d run a marathon, Anton glanced at Angel over his shoulder.

The vampire was standing close enough to intervene if something went wrong. Meeting his sombre gaze, Anton lost his grip on hatred and wanted to weep. As in days of old their communication was silent and accurate. Angel nodded once in acknowledgement of a silent message.

“I wish you’d killed me, too,” Anton admitted roughly and was wracked by spasms of shudders as something took a grip of him. Braced with one hand on the gurney to keep him upright and using every last ounce of willpower, he began to undo the straps binding one ankle.

Behind a column and safely out of the way of any violence, Holland Manners murmured with an anticipatory smile, “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that, my friend.”

~

To Cordelia it was like waking up from a dream. The veil lifted and the memories of the last few minutes rushed into her consciousness. Being possessed by the spirit of a dead girl was something that would under normal circumstances have squicked her out. However, these were anything but normal circumstances.

Lifting her head to see who was unbuckling her wrists the first person she saw was Angel; bruised and grazed with his expression harsh and moody, he was still a sight for sore eyes and her heart leapt. Then she looked down to see Wesley unstrapping her ankles. “Angel, Wes?” She asked confusedly. Their urgency was infectious. “What the hell is going on?”

“No time for questions, Cordelia,” Angel said tensely, sparing only a brief glance over his shoulder at something behind him. Then midnight eyes bored into hers, “When we’ve got you free, you run like hell, okay?”

She didn’t even have to think about it. “Uh no, I’ve done enough running. I’m sticking to you like glue, buddy boy.” Then something caught her eye behind him. Hazel eyes went comically wide. “Oh…crap!” No wonder they were in such a rush. “Hurry up, guys!”

Everywhere else had fallen into a complete hush. All fighting had ceased with both humans and vampires stilling and staring up, transfixed by the horror being enacted over their heads. Charles Gunn looked up, too, drawn back from the hell in his mind at having to dust his baby sister. On his knees, where he’d fallen as she disintegrated, he was pulled back to reality by the sheer absence of noise.

The silence didn’t last long. Swept up by an unseen force a writhing Anton Silverous dangled below the ceiling. Even night seemed to shrink back and the thick candles stuttered and flared. As his audience watched red boils appearing on every visible patch of skin. His mouth was gaping wide and his throat worked as if he was screaming and yet only strangled chokes came out.

When the boils spread and burst the humans started to back away. Adams apple’s bobbing as they tried to resist the urge to retch in reaction to the sight. Then the screams started. Instantly the retreat picked up pace and the two Wolfram & Hart lawyers joined them.

Free, wrapped in red silk and staying safely behind Angel’s reassuringly large frame, Cordelia sucked in a breath to calm her rioting belly and said, “Oh-my-God. That is so gross.” Then added with typical bluntness, “Look, guys, I’m thankful for the rescue, god knows I needed it…but can we just get out of here- like now would be good?”

“We can’t” advised Wesley gruffly, forced to shout over the agonised screams. “Unfortunately, as bad as this, it’s going to get worse for everyone before it gets better.” Having delivered the bad news, he bent to retrieve a book off the floor and made his way over to a pair of humans standing beneath the tormented mage.

“Why does it always have to get worse first? I hate that.” Peering around Angel’s Cordelia averted her eyes from the horror and focussed on the men, “Is that Giles over there?”

“Yeah, and another watcher, too” said Angel heavily. He couldn’t take his eyes off Anton. As much as he’d been willing to kill him tonight, witnessing his death like this was sickening. There was no way to stop it though. Anton had made his deal and welched on it. All they could do was deal with the after affects.

“Armed with books?! Guh, why am I not surprised?” she asked with only mild disbelief. “Y’know this whole supernatural power of the pen thing gets old- fast. Wouldn’t a bazooka or something be *so* much quicker?”

It hit Angel then and vigilance fell by the wayside. He turned his head to look down at her. Feeling his gaze she looked up and blinked a query with her head cocked as if to ask, ‘what did I say?’

Cordelia continuously amazed him. She out of all of them had been through the worst and yet there she stood, not in the least bit fazed and still—Cordelia. In that wholly inappropriate setting and in the face of danger, his mood lifted.

Stood close enough to feel her warmth even through the leather duster, Angel knew they were still facing the possibility of a bloody battle; and yet he just wished it was all over and done. After the frantic worry of the last few days- weeks even- he wanted nothing more than to relax and revel in the fact that she was alive, safe and apparently not so disgusted by him she couldn’t stand the sight of him anymore.

When this was finally all over would she leave straight away, he wondered and his mood plummeted again. Shaking off despair, Angel gave his attention back to the nightmare in front of them.

So did Cordelia before deciding it was something she could do without reliving every time she closed her eyes. “Jeezus! Tell me when it’s all over will you,” she said and ducked behind him. It wasn’t a pretty sight and a part of Angel wished he had someone to hide his head behind.

Anton was being consumed. There was simply no other way of putting it. After the boils and blisters his skin seemed to recede, followed by the flesh until the white gleam of bone showed through. One loafer had fallen off and lay on the floor; leaving a skeletal foot to jerk spasmodically. To the assembled humans, he resembled a Halloween puppet on a string.

The crowd thinned even more. Unlike the street kids, it wasn’t the pain or obvious torment that pulled the vampires from their stunned stupor, but the chanting of the three watchers. Stood with their heads bent attentively to the texts they were reading from, three voices rose and fell in a matching rhythm. Sensing forces gathering of which they didn’t want to be a part; the remaining vampires melted away into the comfort of night.

Whatever it was that had Anton in its grip reacted angrily to the chanting. Pockets of red mist emerged from the mage’s body, merging and roiling to form larger and denser bubbles. Then the bubbles morphed, spreading like bacteria. Growing at a terrifying rate the formation of mist hardened into something much more physical. It also began to form into something resembling a face.

Within seconds a gaping maw had opened and with that came a distant inhuman howl. That howl grew louder and closer as the shape wrapped and rewrapped around itself, forming layer upon layer of what appeared to be a huge body. Meanwhile, in the face a pair of eyes snapped open.

The banishing spells weren’t going to work thought Angel, hefting the sword and bracing himself to dive onto the thing. Then a presence sidling up next to them drew his attention.

With his expression a mixture of sorrow, disgust and revulsion, Charles Gunn pointed at the watchers, asking, “Are they good guys or bad guys?”

“Good guys, they’re doing a banishing spell.”

“Could’a fooled me,” he retorted, sliding him a glance and jerking his chin up at Ushkil, “That looks more like a coming than a going to me.”

Uneasy himself, Angel got his point. He much preferred doing rather than watching, but Wesley had convinced him he had to leave this up to them. “They’re not easy spells to do,” he said, “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see and be ready to kill it if it goes bad.”

Cordelia really didn’t like the way this was going either. The idea of making her escape while she could flitted briefly through her mind before she dismissed it. She felt safer where she was. Instead, she tried to inject some optimism, “Maybe you have to bring the thing here to get rid of it. I mean, how do you banish something that’s only got one foot in this world? It’d be like swatting at something that’s not really there.”

It was feasible thought Angel and then without warning, Wesley began a different chant, so that the two were being intoned at the same time. Hearing it gave Angel a strong case of the heebie-jeebies, a sensation not helped by a swirling hole appearing behind the emerging demon. It took a few seconds for him to realise what it was.

“Okay, that’s it,” announced Gunn noticing it, too, “somebody tell me what that is, or I go swinging in there. Ready or not.”

“It’s a portal,” answered, Angel relaxing now. “My guess is that when he’s fully emerged Ushkil is gonna find himself sucked right back out of our world and into another dimension.”

If that was the plan it went awry. By now the demon was recognisable as human-shaped. He also looked familiar. “Hey, that’s looks like-“

“Hellboy, and I don’t think he’s on the side of the Angel’s,” finished Cordelia, recognising it from the hours she’d indulged Xander’s obsession with comics, “Geeze, whoever said comic books follow real life needs to visit LA.”

Twin horns rose from a rock-hewn magenta face and yellow eyes blazed down at the human’s. Perhaps Ushkil was simply quicker at forming than they’d planned? Whatever the reason the portal wasn’t fully open when the demon was able to make a move. Instead of being sucked inside it, he dropped to the floor hard enough to crack the concrete floor and lunged.

Angel got there just ahead of him and tackled the watcher to get him out of harms way. “Stay back,” he instructed the man he assumed was ‘Teddy’ and rolled to his feet. Giles had managed to pull a still chanting Wesley to a safer distance while Gunn leapt at the demon with his axe raised high over his head. The axe just glanced off the demon’s head; striking sparks off one horn. A swipe of one thickly muscled arm send the hardy young street fighter flying to crash back to the ground some distance away. He lay still.

“Foolish humans,” boomed the demon, “did you imagine I was as easily defeated as a paltry vampire.” That yellow gaze fixed on Angel and a cold smile curved a lipless mouth.

Ushkil gave a mocking bow. “Excluding present company of course. No offence.”

“None taken,” said Angel as he closed the distance, “Excuse me for not giving a crap if you take offence when I say, you’re not welcome here.”

In response, Ushkil’s smirk only grew bigger, “I might if I thought there was a damn thing you could do about it.” He gestured towards Wesley and Giles. “To think I wasted so much time on Anton when all I had to do was get the Watchers Council to being me forth. Thanks for that by the way.”

“You’re welcome never had less meaning,” sniped Cordelia when the demon’s gaze lit on her and swept up and down. The red sheet wrapped sarong style under her arms felt gossamer thin under that searing gaze. “Don’t get too comfortable, cos your ass is out of here as soon as that thing is ready,” she sneered and flicked a glance at the portal.

Ushkil chuckled and said, “It is ready. It just has no effect at this distance and will soon close again.” He pretended to look sorrowful, “I’m afraid your gamble failed.”

“Don’t be so quick to judge,” snarled Angel, angered more by the assessing glance over Cordelia than anything else. “God, loves a tryer.”

Ushkil didn’t even try and duck Angel’s powerful roundhouse punch. He simply caught the fist and yanked the vampire closer. Face-to-face he jeered, “God doesn’t love this one though does he? Do-gooder or not.”

Vamping out, Angel head-butted him and retorted, “With a pretty face like mine, who wouldn’t love me?”

The ridges protected him enough that the blow did knock the demon back a few feet. The fight that followed was brutal in the extreme. Cordelia, Wesley and the rest of them could only stand by and watch as 6ft plus of muscled vampire met and clashed with a being that was older, bigger and a hundred times as vicious.

A few minutes later Angel was tiring and there wasn’t a part of him not aching like a sonovabitch. Slammed onto his front for about the fifth time, he spat out a mouthful of blood and bile and groaning rolled onto his back. Just in time for Ushkil to pick him up the sides of his duster and toss him into a wall. Cinderblocks disintegrated under Angel’s weight and consciousness faded in and out.

Calls of encouragement sounded as if they came from underwater; all except for Cordelia’s. Her angry yells came from close by and somehow Angel managed to jack his eyes open. What he saw had his dead heart squeezing with terror. Ushkil was only a few ft away and a red-faced and furious Cordelia was coming up behind it with something held in her hands. That cleared away the cob-webs and Angel catapulted away from the wall just as Ushkil turned to meet Cordelia’s reckless charge.

Terrified but determined, Cordelia threw the candle directly into the demons face and he roared as the hot wax splattered all over his face and eyes. A look of triumph flooded her gorgeous face and Angel despaired when he saw that look change to, ‘oh shit’, when Ushkil charged her. He was only a step behind when the demon caught up with the fleeing girl.

Cordelia screamed when her hair was caught and cruelly twisted in a fist. A red mist dropped over Angel’s vision and his throaty growl had Ushkil swinging around to face his charge, too. Protective fury gave Angel the incentive he needed and every ache and pain simply disappeared as if they’d never been.

Grabbing the demons wrist nearest to him, Angel used his impetus to twist and pull him off balance and then chopped a hand down on the arm imprisoning Cordelia. It worked and Ushkil turned his attention back where it belonged. Seeing the others come up and usher a resisting Cordy back behind them, Angel concentrated on round two of the fight.

“When you’re dead I’m going to kill your little pets one by one.” Ushkil warned, eyes gleaming and the sockets blackened by the fiery wax, “The girl I’ll save until last. I have plans for her that aren’t quick and definitely not clean.”

Rammed into the same place he’d crashed into before, Angel felt the wall crumble further behind him and bringing up his hands, squeezed between the demons arms to stab his thumbs into this wounded sockets. “You won’t get near them or her,” he returned every bit as savagely; “I’ll see you in hell first.”

Howling, Ushkil released him and backed away from the pain. Following up with a snap kick; and then spinning on his heel to deliver a second arcing one, Angel drove the demon back and nearer to the still spinning portal. Realising he didn’t have much time before the portal closed itself, Angel dug deep and kept up the momentum with a series of hammer punches that left his knuckles raw and bloodied. It didn’t matter because pain couldn’t impinge on him thanks to a consuming rage that demanded this thing be made to pay.

Dropping to a squat, he swept out a foot and sent Uskil crashing to the floor. Ushkil returned the gesture and Angel went down too. Rolling over, Angel lifted his arm and slammed an elbow into the demon’s throat hard enough his head bounced off the unforgiving ground.

Then a shouted warning from Wesley dragged him back from his heedless rage and looking up he saw the portal grow smaller. They were almost out of time and his need for violence had cost them most of it. With that realisation, reason returned and cursing foully, Angel leapt to his feet and grabbed the demons hoofed foot. Gathering his strength, he began to spin, getting faster and faster until the demon was high enough off the ground that he could give one last monumental heave and let go.

With their hearts in their mouths they all watched the demon fly towards the closing portal; hoping and praying that it was still wide enough to suck the demon through. In the blink of any eye it was over. Ushkils last inhuman roar of frustrated rage echoed in the empty building as the portal closed behind him.
~

Fresh from the shower with his hair damp and black shirt warm from the iron, Angel exited the elevator and stepped into his office. The first place his gaze lit on was Cordelia’s empty desk. That was too painful. Jerking away, he sought and found Wesley sitting on the couch with an open book on his khaki covered lap.

“Haven’t you had enough of books?” he asked as a greeting and headed for the coffee percolator.

“Since you ask, no,” replied Wesley dryly, “I happen to find reading relaxing.”

Nodding and smiling wryly, Angel leant against the table and raised the mug to take a sip of coffee, saying “I should have known better than to ask?”

Wesley wasn’t fooled. Tossing the open book aside, he sat forward with his elbows on his knees and levelled a look at the too casual vampire. “Did you go and see her?”

Angel didn’t need to ask who ‘her’ was. “I did,” he said and continued knowing it was the next question, “And yes, I told her what I found out from Joyce.”

“What did she say? It must have been quite a shock finding out this whole thing had been a waste of time and Buffy’s heart was never removed for transplant.”

That was putting it mildly. Angel sighed and grimaced, “I don’t think she took it all in,” he admitted, “I don’t blame her either. A lot went down for what turned out to be nothing more than an administrative error.”

That led onto something else Wesley had been musing over. “I’ve been thinking about that,” he said as an opener. “Doyle never met Buffy. Has it occurred to you that it wasn’t Buffy in his last vision at all, but Serena and Cordelia?”

“No, I haven’t thought about it,” Angel shrugged, “Now you mention it though, it makes sense.”

If Wesley was surprised by his lack of reaction it was too bad. Angel was simply unable to offer more. Two days had passed since that night, and he’d spent every waking moment either thinking about Cordelia, or seeking out any distraction he could find. He kept telling himself that if she wanted to go, then he didn’t have the right to try and stop her. So far only half of him was listening though and the conflict was tearing him apart.

As useless as it was, Angel tried a change of topic as yet another distraction. “Did Rupert and whatshisname get off okay?”

“Rupert and I saw Teddy back on a flight to the UK and Rupert is taking the bus back to Sunnydale.”

Angel nodded his expression distant. “Oh Good.”

“But you’re not really interested in that are you?”

Blinking, Angel saw Wesley was now standing and looking uncomfortably shrewd. “What do you mean?”

“Have you been back to see Cordelia?” Wesley asked, crossing his arms, uncaring about a crisp shirt and cutting to the chase.

There was a pregnant pause before Angel sighed and pushed away from his perch. “Look, Wesley, I know you mean well,” he said over his shoulder, aiming for the safety and sanctity of his office, “And that this all my fault. You warned me and I didn’t listen. Believe me nobody regrets that more than me. But I don’t want to-“

“Hey, guys” breezed Cordelia and slammed the door behind her.

Angel swung around so fast he made himself dizzy, “Cordelia, wha-“

She ignored him until she could plonk her purse and a paper bag on her desk. Then turning around she pointed an accusing finger at him. “I have a bone to pick with you, mister.”

“A bone…?” Confused and befuddled, Angel looked blank, “You do?”

“This gal...um...Serena,” clicking her fingers in triumph, she asked a little too pointedly, “there was more to her than meets the eye, am I right?”

Frowning, Angel tried to think past the mere fact that Cordelia was in the office. Not just in the office either, but looking stunning in a strappy yellow sundress with her hair caught up in an intricate knot that showcased the graceful cuves of her neck and shoulders. It took an embarrassingly long time to answer, “She was a-“

“Seer,” finished Cordelia, “Tell me something I don’t know.” Looking decidedly unhappy about something, she flung herself down on the coach and enlightened the two men. “There I was coming into work on the bus when this thing hits me. And when I say hits me- I mean with a wallop.” A blush stained her cheeks, “I’m not sure but I think there was drooling involved and--”

“You had a vision?” asked Angel numbly.

“Howdy!” Cordelia exclaimed, “That’s what I’ve just been saying. Here I wrote it all down once I’d got done telling everyone I suffer from epilepsy.”

Angel took the note she handed him and couldn’t get his thoughts into order. He kept get stuck on one thing she’d said, “You were coming into work?” he asked and couldn’t disguise the hopeful note in his voice.

“Yeah, I just needed a few days off and don’t even think about docking my pay, Mister Miserly Pants, I needed the R and R.”

She wasn’t leaving! Angel just stood there and let the relief sink into his bones. That meant that plans to give her time and then go after her weren’t needed anymore. He could work on earning her forgiveness with her right next to him…night after night.

“Of course you won’t lose any pay,” Wesley said with a smile and stood up to give her a brief hug, “It’s wonderful to see you back by the way. I don’t mind telling you this place has been like morgue without you to brighten it up.”

“Well, duh” grinned Cordy delighted; and tried not to keep flashing Angel surreptitious glances, “For that you get a doughnut,” she said and returning to her desk, ripped open the paper bag to reveal a familiar box. Handing one over, she turned and this time she let Angel catch her gaze, “You don’t have time for one,” she prodded, “You have some poor defenceless sap to go save- so scoot.

Still he hesitated and she lost patience, "We're okay here. We'll talk later, just go, already!”

---

EPILOGUE

Angel stood outside Cordelia’s apartment and composed himself. After four months it was a ritual. First he’d raise his hand to knock and then drop it with a sigh. Realising how tense he was he’d shrug his shoulders to loosen tight muscles, sigh again and finally run a hand over his hair and down his shirt. Then sucking a breath, he’d rap his knuckles on the door.

He wondered if tonight, Cordelia would get there first, or if Dennis would be the one to answer his knock. As usual that thought led to another and Angel’s efforts to relax failed. His ‘courtship’ of Cordelia was being done under the beady eyes of Wesley and Dennis, her ghost. So, the way he figured it, he was allowed to feel some tension and aggravation.

On the few nights they did manage to carve a time-out from death and mayhem, he made sure they went out. Blockbuster movies or old classics and sometimes the theatre- as long as it wasn’t too high-brow. When she got tired of being inside, they’d take leisurely drives out of the city with the Plymouths top down, or stroll along the beach and just talk. For a girl who once gave off the impression that she needed to be constantly entertained, Cordelia could be surprising introspective; yet another facet of her to love and be intrigued by.

Angel’s favourite was when he was able to lure her away from the trendy night-clubs to somewhere just a little smokier and a whole lot slower. There he could hold her in his arms while they danced. Crowds would fade to just the two of them and when he looked into her eyes he could see trust spreading its wings again. Instinct told him that was when he made his biggest inroads in convincing Cordelia he loved her.

Then she opened the door and all of that flew out of his head. Angel struggled not to gape. He’d seen her in every type of feminine apparel and appreciated all of them. Now, the top blew right off his head and he was proud to manage a croaked, “Hi.”

“Hey, Angel” she said with that big smile, “Come in.”

The skirt of the white dress flirted with her knees as she stepped back and gestured him to enter. He swallowed, accepted and tried not to be too obvious with his staring. The dress didn’t cling and the cleavage was almost virginal, but the cut was pure artistry as if conjured up deliberately to tease and tantalise. The waist was fitted to reveal the flare of her hips and Angel had to close his fists to resist the urge to shape them with his palms.

“You look…beautiful,” he said simply. The blaze of pleased satisfaction in hazel depths forestalled his groan of disgust at that lame compliment.

“Thanks” Cordelia said brightly, “You’re looking pretty hot yourself.” Slowly and with complete assurance, she let her eyes wander over his best pants and the new silk shirt she’d gifted him with.

The gleam of appreciation that replaced satisfaction in hazel eyes, hinted at why his words hadn’t really been necessary either. Hand on hips, Cordy gave a self-congratulatory nod, “I knew that colour would look good on you.”

The silk had been dyed to the darkest blue and was so rich it begged to be stroked. Rather than be so obvious, she stepped up and pretended to smooth his collar. When her fingers lingered, Angel didn’t mind in the least. This close her bottom lip plumped out just a little from the upper one and her scent had his eyelids dropping; turning heavy-lidded with desire.

Knowing it was too early in the evening. Angel stepped back to hide his body’s response, and picking up her hand from his shoulder, kissed it softly to distract her from that necessary distance. “Are you ready to go?” he asked.

Her reaction surprised him, revealing nerves that he hadn’t seen since they’d begun dating properly. Backing away, Cordelia tucked her hair behind her ears, went to speak and then puffed out a breath instead. About to ask what was wrong, she got in there first and spoke in a rush, “Would you mind if we stayed in tonight?”

Relieved it was only that, Angel cast a glance around. “Here?”

She knew his problem with staying in her apartment. Holding up a stalling hand, she said, “I’ve made a deal with Dennis. He’s going to stay in the kitchen with the TV pulled over into the corner. He’ll be entertained and we’ll have privacy, I promise.”

“Oh, okay.”Dennis on a TV leash? he thought, Why am I not reassured?Dennis still hadn’t got over Angel upsetting Cordelia, and liked to make that clear every now and then. Deeply sceptical, Angel shrugged out of his jacket and forced a smile, “Sure.”

Her relief was palpable, “Great,” she said, “Toss your coat over there and follow me”.

Coat tossed, she took his hand and led him around the corner. She’d been busy he saw. The couch and side table had been pushed far out of the way. In the very corner was a patio table, covered in spotless white linen and laid with two plates, silver cutlery that gleamed and a matching pair of crystal wine glasses.

In the middle of the snowy cloth, an array of dishes held light nibbles perfect for a vampire’s palate. Tiny slices of rich cheese, salmon cakes the size of a coin, savoury biscuits decorated with pâté and slices of tomato and more. Not much of each and none so filling he’d be left out while she ate.

“You’ve gone to a lot of trouble,” he said, feeling her anxious gaze watching for his reaction. Squeezing her hand in his, Angel met Cordelia’s gaze searchingly and wondered again what could be making her so nervous. “It looks great,” he reassured.

“Not so much trouble and I enjoyed it,” she grinned and pulled away, “I’ll pick the music while you pour the wine. The bottles are next to the candles on the window ledge.”

“I see them,” he said and walking over picked up the red. She’d learned his preferences and picked his favourite. He gave her a pleased smile that she missed, busy flipping through CD’s. The cork had already been removed to let the wine breathe leaving Angel to watch Cordelia fuss over the stereo while he poured.

“Do you want red or white?” he asked, dragging his admiring gaze off slim calves made endless by strappy silver sandals.

“White. If I spill red on this dress, I’ll cry.” As she spoke, music flooded the room. Moody and unobtrusive it was the perfect choice to provide atmosphere and allow for conversation.

Looking at his own glass full of burgundy liquid, Angel was about to pour it back in favour of not risking that under any circumstances, when a hand covered the glass and stopped him, “I’m only kidding, Angel,” Cordelia said amused, “But I’ll still have the white.”

~

With the lights down low and the trio of candles providing a soft glow from the window, they talked. The conversation flowed lightly, desultory even between sips of wine and Cordelia coaxing him to eat a little. They talked about work, with Cordelia being Cordelia and providing lightening insights into client’s peccadillo’s whether they were demon or human. In between, she levelled teasing digs at him and watched through her lashes for his reaction, the quirk of her lips daring him to deny her.

Angel had long ago accepted he couldn’t deny her much and gave her the reaction she wanted. She laughed and he smiled or chuckled every now and then. Enthralled, Angel forgot about Dennis and simply drank her in. Sat opposite a human he was deeply in love with; with her overprotective ghost only a room away, Angel couldn’t remember ever being so relaxed and wound up at the same time. He wanted to sit here and listen to her for as long as he could, while at the same time he wanted to pull her up off the chair, lift her in his arms and carry her to bed and then kiss her all over.

That wasn’t the only thing confusing him. Underneath the banter and laughter, she was still nervous. The pulse in her neck fluttered, both cheeks were flushed and underneath soft and fragrant skin her blood raced a fraction too fast. Angel didn’t blame any of those reactions for his tension though. No, that honour went to the hint of spicy female arousal that hovered between them.

Certain that if he let his thoughts travel too far down that path, he’d do something dumb, Angel wrestled grimly with his libido and won. No hint of his struggle showed on his face.

Until Cordelia put down her glass and held out a hand. “Let’s dance,” she said.

~

It was the look on his face that nearly got Cordelia. The giggle rose up in bubbles of laughter that she only just managed to choke back. The music had changed to something less background-y and more dance-y. Still slow but with throaty lyrics that suggested languid heat, lapping water and slow sinuous moves entwined with a lover.

“C’mon, Angel” she cajoled and fluttered her fingers, “I want to dance. Dance with me.”

Back when they’d begun dating again Angel had surprised her. She’d been convinced nothing short of a stake to his heart would persuade him to dance, and if he ever did it would be painfully hysterical to watch. She’d been wrong, or at least she’d been wrong about the kind of dancing that thanks to him she was now hooked on. There were no techno beats for this vampire of hers. Slow dancing that brought up thoughts of bayous and rumpled sheets was more his style.

Strong cool fingers slid across her palm and then gently gripped. Meeting his gaze across the table, she saw the flicker of something a teensy bit uncivilised in those onyx depths and recognised repressed desire. He wasn’t the easiest guy to read, this vampire of hers, but she was getting there. The dim lighting created shadows that patterned his handsome face, creating valleys where the slopes of his cheeks dipped before meeting that stubborn jaw. Full yet masculine lips held an unconsciously sensual curve.

Needing more oxygen for some reason, Cordelia sucked in a breath. When they rose her heart fluttered and belly flip-flopped with a mixture of nerves, desire and anticipation.

Cordelia had planned this down to what she hoped was the last tiny detail. With everything pushed back, she’d created enough space for the two of them to dance. After more than a few nights spent doing this they came together in a perfect fit; without any fumbling or missed steps.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” she asked him, head tipped back so that her hair fell in a waterfall down her back, just touching his clasping hands at her waist.

Above her those sculpted lips curved while warm brown eyes gave Angel’s answer before he even spoke, “Very much,” he said in a deep velvet voice, “You?”

“Me too,” she sighed and brought her lips to within a whisper of his, “Thanks for agreeing to stay here.” She thought better of bringing up Dennis.

After brief teasing brush kiss later and Angel’s, “My pleasure,” rumbled next to her ear as her arms tightened around his neck and they began to move together.

The music swelled and throbbed around them. Mournful notes melted into blissful brushes of her against him and him against her. Sinking into a familiar blissful daze, Cordelia admitted she loved how big he was. This close the primal thrill of being sheltered against a powerful and undeniably aroused male body was exciting. More, knowing how sensitive Angel was, and that his self-control was being pushed to the limit only added to that excitement.

During low moments, Cordelia would tell herself falling in love with him was the dumbest thing she’d ever done. But she was also honest enough to admit it was too late. She already was in love with him and while his contrasts drove her nuts, they were also what kept her on her toes. Angel had some great qualities; such as being a gentleman most of the time, a hero who wanted nothing more than to save people, and he genuinely wanted to do the right thing.

But then there that other side to him. A side that was a little mean and unprincipled and Cordelia didn’t kid herself that it was all his demon’s fault. If something got in his way, he’d do whatever it took to move it, or go around it and those times when he ignored pesky morals were just added to his brood list. So, Angel was far from perfect. A fact which suited her fine. Who wanted perfection? Knowing he needed reining in every now and then was a plus and as far as Cordelia wasn’t concerned, she was the only woman for the job.

Angel must have sensed her distraction, jostling her to get her attention he asked, “What are you thinking?”

Caught out, Cordelia was sheepish, “You don’t want to know,” she said; then changed her mind, “It’s not important. Forget it.” Going on tiptoe she kissed him as a distraction and managed to distract them both in very short order.

On other nights and surrounded by other people, those times when the hard bulge of his erection had brushed against her had been ignored by both of them, keeping the thrum of lust within sensible limits. Tonight was going to different she’d decided. Now Cordelia sought it out rather than avoided. As the heat inside grew until her mind turned hazy, she undulated her hips so that a careless brush became a long caressing rub.

The thing was she aroused herself, too. I want you trembled on her tongue. Instead of speaking and risking dispelling the growing shimmers of awareness with careless words, she nuzzled into his neck and feeling reckless, suckled on the strong cord she found there.

It was the most sexually explicit thing she’d done since before the night Anton Silverous died. Angel’s low groan raised goose-bumps across every inch of skin. Then thickly muscled arms pulled her in tighter and clothing became a necessary barrier as their loins ground together. Inside, everything that was female leapt with a zing of pure lust.

As predictable as dawn, the sensuous movements of their bodies turned mindless; an instinctive reaction to music meant to provoke and entice lovemaking. It wasn’t long before Angel was swallowing her pants with sweeping kisses that blew her mind. Moulded together, neither spoke a word about how far this was going and if it was a conspiracy, they were in it together. As the music swelled the throb of it wrought an identical one between her thighs.

Sometime later, Angel turned her so that her back was to him and they carried on dancing. Legs shaking with a growing languid tension, Cordelia leant back as his hands skimmed up from her hips to her ribs; then was forced to bite her lip as his thumb brushed along the underside of one breast. Oh God!The tip already tightly budded ached to be fondled.

Before Cordelia could work up to a demand that he touch her, Angel brushed aside her hair and caught the lobe of her ear between his teeth, biting down enough to cause a tiny sting. She couldn’t suppress a moan. “What do you want tonight, Cordy?” he asked in a voice that was both deeper and a little rougher than normal.

This was it the pivotal moment. She’d got over his lies and he’d convinced her it wouldn’t happen again. The one time since when he might have lied, he’d simply told her she wasn’t to know and clammed up. Okay, it drove her crazy when he acted so frikkin’ arbitrary, but it was a world away from being lied to.

Back in the present, his erection was butted firmly into the crease of her bottom. Behind her, Cordelia’s fingers found and gripped his thighs as the shakes got stronger and heavier, pulling her down. “I love you,” she said, going still, “Do you love me?”

Angel went still, too. “Yes, I do.”

Licking dry lips, Cordelia turned her head to see his face. Swallowing hard, she made a leap of faith, “Make love to me, Angel.”

She half expected him to ask was she sure. He didn’t and she obviously wasn’t going to have to ask twice. Turning her again, Angel took her lips in a sweetly devouring kiss. Head swimming from the passion that rose unchecked between them, Cordelia was only dimly aware of the zipper of her dress being lowered.

It was the waft of cool air along her back brought her out of her daze. Reacting to the moment, Cordelia tried to pull back and cross her arms over her ribs. She’d known it would happen, but now she was stricken with the knowledge that this time he would see her scars. What if he was freaked and couldn’t hide it. She’d be devastated.

Angel wouldn’t let her hide herself. Strong hands lifted her up so high and so startlingly fast that Cordelia instinctively grabbed his head. Her gasp wasn’t anything to do with being startled though, and everything to do with cool lips kissing a trail along the vivid pink that travelled from breastbone to belly.

“You don’t ever have to be ashamed or hide them from me,” he said against her belly. Tears stung and then filmed her eyes. ogodogodogod. Don’t cry Angel lifted his head and gazed solemnly up at her, “Every warrior has scars,” he told her.

Marvelling that his arms weren’t trembling even the tiniest bit, her mouth wobbled into a smile, “Oh yeah, where are yours, smarty pants?”

“They were on the inside.”

Were? He’d said were…

“What do yo-“ lowered enough to be devoured with a kiss, Angel distracted her that easily and the next thing Cordelia knew was the cool slide of fresh sheets under her back.

Skilfully kissed while her bra and panties were removed, Cordelia sensed his growing desire push against those self-imposed restraints and trembled as her own racked up several notches. When she began to undo the buttons of his shirt, wanting to feel his naked body under her hands, too, he swept her aside and finished the task without fuss.

The shirt was tossed aside. “Just lie back for now,” he told her, “And let me love you.”

It was the way he said it, requesting and demanding at the same time that had her considering it.

“Okay, this time…but next time is my turn”.

Having said that the play of heavy muscle on Angel’s chest and arms was hard to resist and she almost changed her mind. He was a landscape of smooth, hard ridges and valleys and when he sat up to unbuckle his belt, Cordelia’s eyes were drawn to the visible bulge at the juncture of his thighs. From memory she knew he was equally as impressive there, too.

The next however long passed in a blur and there was no comparison with their last frantic mating. Angel kissed her all over, caressing every inch of her body with his mouth, hands and fingers. There was no part left unmapped by skating, skimming and sliding fingers, nipping teeth and a delving tongue. The backs of her knees; the curve of her shoulder, the valley between her breast, the dip of her waist and the backs of her thighs all the way up to the cheeks of her bottom were lavished with male appreciation and reverent attention.

Then he started again. Shaping her to his wants and imprisoning her hands when she rebelled against his no-touching him rule. Cordelia, willingly lost in a world made up of only this bed and her demon lover, felt utterly worshipped and loved. Finally, Angel obliterated every remaining inhibition under the searing heat of one orgasm.

Buffeted by a building storm of pleasure, Cordelia bucked against his tormenting mouth and screamed his name as she came apart. Then still cresting, she gasped when he filled her with one hard thrust. As if appeased by being inside her now, Angel abruptly stilled.

Braced on his arms so he hung over, he demanded hoarsely, “Look at me,” and when she did, he said, “I love you.”

Cordelia’s breath hitched, “I love you, too.”

Satisfied, Angel began to pump lazily with smooth flexes of his hips, “Say it again.”

~

Cordelia released him with soft popping sound. Still straddling his quivering thighs, she nuzzled the velvety skin of Angel’s abdomen and skimmed the ridges of muscle with the tip of her tongue. The taste of herself and him tingled on her tongue. They may have both come twice now, but she wanted more.

Sitting up to survey him, she grinned lazily and hazel eyes gleamed with joyful power. Glazed brown eyes met her gaze and she cocked her head, “Have I mentioned you’re gorgeous and hot and I could…do this all night?”

Angel’s mouth curved in a rueful grin, “I’ve created a monster, and no, you hadn’t.”

Leaning down to nibble at a pale pink nipple, she asked, “Are you up for it.”

“Check for yourself.”

He tasted of salt with a hint of soap. “Hmmm, okay,” she agreed and travelled to its twin as she slid up his body until her damp centre settled over his reawakening erection.

Giving a pleased hum, Cordelia began to rock herself against him, pleasuring them both as she kissed her way to his neck. When she eventually got up to his chin and mouth, it was already open and she plunged softly inside.

~

Dropping the hands that had been busy kneading her breast to clasp her bottom, Angel suckled her tongue and lifted the velvety cheeks so that he could slide into her. She was so slick and tight his balls tightened and every super-sensitive nerve in his body screamed with the urge to hammer hard. He didn’t though.

She was everything he could want; strong, brave and every bit as beautiful on the inside as on the outside, but she was also human, and having already had two orgasms her tissues would be just as sensitive. She needed slow and gentle and that was what she was going to get.

Lifting back up again, Cordelia tossed back the damp strands of hair that clung to damp and flushed cheeks. Then graced him with the most sensual smile he’d ever seen. Transfixed, Angel raised a hand and brushed aside a few errant strands, letting the tips of his fingers linger and trail down a warm cheek.

“You’re something else, y’know that?”

“Yeah, but I never get tired of hearing it.”

Leaning into his touch, Cordelia slid her eyes closed; then lifted and lowered herself on his impaling shaft. Every scrap of sensation she felt was visible on her face and even his not so civilised instincts stopped screaming and let him just watch, mesmerised.

Braced with her hand on his belly, she rode him with innocent skill that was pure wantonness. With the lights off and bathed in the silvery moonlight spilling in from the window, Cordelia took her own pleasure and gave him his at the same time.

Willingly held in her thrall, his soul ached with a love so strong he could cry. Instead and biting back helpless moans, his hand drifted so that his thumb skimmed a pouting lower lip. Revelling in a burgeoning sensuality, Cordelia opened her mouth and took it inside, playing her tongue along the digit and suckling as if she already knew what that would do to him.

Powerless not to react, Angel bowed his back and groaned as a jolt of sizzling sensation shot up his spine. When his brain stopped fizzing and he could prise open his eyes again, he saw the tide of another orgasm rising up from within her and braced himself.

When it swept over her fully, Cordelia faltered in its grip and a mewl of distress left her lips. Gripping her hips, Angel lifted her a little so that he could finish them both off; using driving upwards thrusts to send her over the edge and make sure her contractions milked him to oblivion with her.

~

Afterwards, exhausted and practically numb, Cordelia sank into her pillow and cuddled closer to the manpire she loved. Accepting soft open-mouthed kisses, she was about to slid into blissful sleep when a stray thought creased her brow into a frown and she said, “The curtains…don’t wanna wake up to crispy vamp.”

“I’ll do them.”

His weight left the bed and then the swishing sound of the curtains along the track had her relaxing back into slumber again. When Angel came back, he turned and tucked her into his body, adjusting them so that he slid inside her again.

Her protest was halted by his voice in her ear, “I know. I’m not planning anything…just getting comfortable.”

Exhausted or not she had to ask, “Are you gonna be like that permanently now.”

His chuckle warned her, “Change the tense to the past,” Angel said, “At least as far back as us meeting up again.”


THE END.