Title: False Claims
Author: SKauble
Posted: 02-02-2005
Email: skauble@gmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Category: Dark romance, somewhat angsty
Content: C/Aus
Summary: This is based on a challenge by Impress which is included below. It’s set in S2 of BtVS, and it spins out of canon from there. Although I do use things that happened during the show, I do so to fit my purposes with little or no respect to canon. It’s my world gosh-darnit and I’ll make it how I like it.
Spoilers: Some for the first 3 seasons of Buffy.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution:
Notes: In this fic I explore some of Cordelia’s feelings towards Buffy. When those feelings are negative it’s not because I’m bashing Buffy, but because Cordelia didn’t really like her. There are a lot of things that I actually liked about Buffy, and hopefully that will come through when she’s in the story more, further down the road. Also, this was a great challenge by Impress, so if the story sucks it’s all in the execution and not in the conception.
Challenge: Ok, I want to see a fic where Angelus is forced to claim Cordy.
Musts:
*Angelus can not have had a previous desire to claim Cordy.
*Show at least two consequences of the claiming. (for ex: Possessive!Angelus, bonding, craving for blood and/or sex...whatever you can come up with.)
*Feelings developing between the two.
*Smut
Feedback: Sure. If this really blows please tell me, because it’s apparently a long story according to my outline and if it sucks I can spend the time doing something else.
Thanks/Dedication:Book 1: The Rules of Business
Prologue
She was running again. Geez, what was it with Sunnydale and the running, Cordelia wondered as she tried to force her legs to even greater speeds. But the truth was that when you live on a Hellmouth you ran or you died; and tonight it looked like she might be doing both. Dammit! As the tombstones flew by in a blur she couldn’t help but wonder how she’d gotten into this situation. Oh, now she remembered. Like everything crappy in recent memory it started with Buffy.
~~~~~Earlier That Evening ~~~~~
The heavy wooden doors swung violently open slapping the walls behind them, the loud noise incongruous with the library setting. Of course, considering the fact that said library was currently demon fighting HQ, leeway could be given to the unexpected.
Perhaps more startling than the abrupt sound was the petite blonde who stalked in. The epitome of suppressed violence, she carried with her a frenetic energy that warned even those not of a supernatural ilk to be wary.
That warning extended even to those who counted themselves as part of the slayer’s mission. Although in no way psychic, the watcher and his three students knew that something had apparently happened on patrol and all were present and accounted for to offer whatever help they could. Well, most were present and accounted for. Noticeably absent was the young gypsy teacher, Miss Calendar, who was still persona non grata for withholding what turned out to be some rather crucial information regarding Angel’s cruse, earning herself a seemingly endless spot in Buffy’s bad graces.
“Buffy, I’m glad you’re here. We were just-”
“Angelus.” Buffy’s implacable tone sliced through she was sure was about to become another well meaning yet extremely boring research summation from Giles, and concisely conveyed the fact that tonight’s priorities had changed.
“We were just Angelus?” Xander questioned from his perennial research position. “I don’t think so Buffster. I’m pretty sure I’d remember being Mr. Tall, Dark, and Homicidal.”
As far as jokes went that particular one, like most of Xander’s dropped with the all the delicacy of a bowling ball on a carton of eggs. Although rarely used it except in times of extreme trouble, Buffy’s slayer voice was a sign that serious was the new order of business and levity was to be left for later. Unfortunately no one ever thought to send poor Xander that memo.
Shooting the dark haired boy a withering look Giles returned his attention to his slayer. “What about Angelus? I understood that there had been no sighting of him for more than a week. Has that changed?”
“No. He’s still making with the vanishing act, and I think I know why. I stopped by Willy’s on my way over here. I...” Buffy hesitated, thinking how best to phrase what had taken place at the demon bar earlier. “...encouraged him to do his civic duty and explain to me the rumors about the new demons in town who, well to be honest, we desperately don’t want to research tonight.”
Ignoring Giles’ disapproving sigh at what she knew he saw as a shirking of her sacred duties, Buffy plunged ahead. There was no point not to, with what she’d learned today there’d be no Bronzing it for the Scoobies tonight. God she wanted a day to just be normal. With everything that had happened recently she knew that wasn’t too much to ask, but duty called and apparently she forgot to turn on the machine. Don’t people ever get tired of trying to end the world, she wondered wearily? ‘Cause, hello! Where are they going to live? Apparently villainous plots and common sense don’t mix.
With effort, Buffy pulled her mind back to Slayer endeavors. One would think that straightening to her less than impressive height and adjusting her powder blue cardigan with little pearl buttons wouldn’t seem intimidating, and yet gone was the teenage girl and in her place stood the protector of the Hellmouth.
“According to Willy, there’s a new group of demons with powerful ties in the community. Astoria or something or other.”
“A’toreal” Giles corrected, a force of habit and in no way motivated by any erroneous belief that the teenagers before him might actually attempt to learn something.
“Uh, yeah, them. Well Willy said they’re here to do a little hell raising, which in our neck of the woods usually means a literal Hell raising.”
“So what’s the problem? We see, we slay, and by we I mean you, and then we party all night long, and by we I mean us. Don’t worry, Buffy, I got your back.”
As Xander quickly outlined the plan that would get them soonest to the Bronze, Cordelia looked Heavenward as if somehow God might appear and explain why her boyfriend was such a dumbass.
She knew there were reasons she dated Xander but at moments like these she couldn’t recall one of them for the life of her. With a twist of her rust, silk covered shoulders and a flip of her glossy, dark hair she turned to the boy with the dopey smile and acerbically pointed out the massive flaw in his plan – which, in this case happened to be his entire plan.
“Look you goof. I hate to rain on the plan that’s designed to get us all killed, but 1) If the demons were all that easy to kill then why wouldn’t Buffy be out there killing them instead of her wasting our “non-Chosen” time. 2) Obviously this has something to do with Angelus, ‘cause I’m pretty sure that she wasn’t just shouting out psycho-vamps name just so we could all remember that she boffed the soul out of her boyfriend. 3) If there was an easy way for her to end up at the Bronze I’m sure she would be taking it ’cause I’m not really seeing the dedication to duty. And 4) I’m sure that any plan that includes you watching her back she’d be desperate to find a way to revise.”
As Xander faced his clearly irate girlfriend, he did the only thing that a man in his position could do – he cowered away and tried to collapse into himself. He knew that there were reasons that he dated Cordelia but at moments like these he couldn’t recall one of them for the life of him. As she heaved a sigh of what he could only assume was disgust in his direction his attention was redirected towards her breasts, firm and perfectly formed, straining against the eye catching material of her blouse, and suddenly he recalled one, well two, reasons he put up with Cordelia’s abusive honesty.
As she watched her boyfriend’s eyes shift as if magnetically drawn to her chest she took another deep breath and let it out. She knew that she’d been kind of hard on him and really, letting him oogle her was the least she could do. Well, until they could make it to a broom closet that was.
Not that she felt bad for the things she said. They were true, and she didn’t have the time to invest in dishonesty, even if was cloaked in the need to make everyone feel better. Still, even she sometimes wondered if discretion might not be, well maybe not the better part of valor, but certainly some, minuscule part of it. It wasn’t that she couldn’t keep her thoughts to herself, it was more like, with this particular group of people, she didn’t even want to try. I mean, sure, she and Xander had always had an antagonistic relationship, but it wasn’t even that. It was...Buffy.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like Buffy. Well, no, she actually didn’t really care for Buffy. But it wasn’t like the normal way she didn’t like people – because of the clothes they wore or the music they listened to. You know, things that didn’t really mater. No, with Buffy it was an actual reason.
Cordelia understood that in the game of life Buffy got a crappy hand. After watching Buffy at her slayer duties over the past few months she could honestly say that she wouldn’t wish that kind of responsibility on anyone. Buffy was right when she said her life wasn’t ever normal. She was right when she complained that having to fight vampires and demons and God knows what else that skulked in the shadows in this rotten town was gross, disgusting, thankless work. Buffy was even right when she went on, endlessly at times, about the slayers plight – lack of choices and itty bitty life span. If that was the train Buffy was conducting Cordelia thought, “All aboard.”
Honestly, she sympathized with every point the young blonde made. But the part that really chapped Cordelia’s designer clad hide was that Buffy’s life may be one big overdose on the supernatural, but the only difference between her Chosenness and the rest of them was the Buffy was actually equipped to handle it. She was super strong and super fast and super heal-y.
Buffy wasn’t going to die young because there was some kind of slayer virus that would strike her down, she would most likely die young because she was always in a million dangerous situations, and – Hello! Who was always right there behind her? The "Scoobies". (Actually Cordelia thought she might die simply from the shame of being constantly compared to a cowardly cartoon dog who could be easily bribed with snacks. Although she could clearly see how Xander had earned the nickname.)
Willow and Xander and, more and more often recently, herself, were always there to help Buffy with the staking and the magick and the rituals and the decoying. Not because it was their sacred destiny, not because they had some Watcher riding their ass (and wasn’t that a disturbing mental image), no, they did it because it was right, and no matter what their problems were they seemed to not be able to live in Sunnydale and not help, and Cordelia should know ‘cause she had certainly tried.
Sure, they could walk away, but so could Buffy. She, like the rest of them choose not to. And while Cordelia was grateful for that fact ‘cause Lord knows she didn’t want to hang out on Hell central without a slayer, Buffy never seemed to acknowledge that if her life was a sinking ship, well she had a lot of company in that boat and she was wearing the only life jacket.
Even the endless whining about Angel/Angelus rubbed her the wrong way. I mean, let’s face it, Angelus was going to kill all of Buffy’s friends before he ever got around to his obsession, so they were all in danger. Yeah sure, tragic love story, star-crossed lovers, blah, blah, blah - the bottom line is that they were all going to die terribly, but at least Buffy got herself some salty goodness while all she’d gotten was Xander’s wandering hands while a mop dug into her back.
In all of the superficiality that was Cordelia’s life she knew to the bottom of her soul that it was only her honesty that kept her sane and that honesty would mean nothing if she never applied it to herself, so she did, ruthlessly and often. She knew, beyond doubt, that she was very egocentric, sometimes bordering, hell, crossing the border, into obscenely selfish. Life had taught her early and hard to look after herself because no one, no one else ever did. But whatever her reasons for her tunnel vision, at least she could own it. Whether she was admitting it to herself or someone was shoving it in her face (which they often did), she took the responsibility for her own behavior.
But Buffy, who was, admittedly much like herself, so often absorbed in her own angst that she missed what was going on with everyone around her (Can we say raising of the master’s bones), was practically idolized. She was placed on a pedestal so high that she was nearly untouchable.
And in a moment of honesty so deep it almost hurt, Cordelia had to admit that maybe that’s what bugged her most of all; not that Buffy was like that, but that Buffy was like that and came off looking so much better than Cordelia did for the same kind of behavior, to people who were, for some horrible, unknown reason starting to mean something to her.
Oh crap. Once again, intense self-examination had screwed Cordelia over because she had just missed everything that Buffy had said.
“Excuse me, Buffy, but could you go over that once more for those of us who couldn’t hear over your extremely loud skirt?” Okay...that might have something to do with them liking Buffy more then her, too. Oh well.
Shooting Cordelia a look that was clearly intended to hasten the statuesque brunette’s early demise, Buffy snapped back, “I’m sorry if were disrupting you fashion moment with our unimportant end-of-the-world talk, but if you could extend you attention span to more than 30 seconds we could actually use your help.”
Caramel eyes clashed with blue steel and surprisingly it was Cordelia who acquiesced first. If there was one thing she understood inside and out it was pride. She knew how hard it was for Buffy to ask for her help, and she knew that she didn’t make it easy for the slayer. Whether that was because of her personal issues with Buffy or because of the way that they just kept assuming that she wouldn’t help even though she was always helping. Either way, seeing the stress lines etching themselves more and more often into the blonde’s face of late, Cordelia decided that being nice just this once wouldn’t kill her. After all, the way things were going with her and Xander she was going to be hanging around with Buffy for a long time to come, and she certainly didn’t want to be starring at unsightly wrinkles the entire time.
“I’m listening.”
And Buffy, shocked to hear no sarcasm in Cordelia’s reply, blinked in surprise and, deciding not to tempt fate began outlining her plan once again.
“Our newest group of demony tourists to our little paradise are here for some kind of necklace. Apparently Tiffany’s doesn’t make jewelry evil enough so they’ve come to evil central here to accessorize. Here’s the bad part. Okay, on a side note how sucky are our lives when heinous, fashion conscious demons *aren’t* the bad part.”
“Angelus is supposedly getting the necklace for them. I’m not sure what he wants from them. Willy wasn’t very forthcoming and I believed that he honestly didn’t know. After all, we all know that Angelus doesn’t exactly work and play well with others, so who knows what he’s after. However, it’s a very safe bet that whatever it is we’re better off if he doesn’t get it; and it seems that the first step in shutting down his grand plan is getting our hands on this necklace.”
“The good news is that we know where the necklace is now.”
“Let me get this straight, the *good* news is that we know where we can go to fight Angelus for a necklace that a bunch of demons would be more than happy kill us for.”
“Yes, Xander, do shut up. Buffy, continue.” The watcher’s matter of fact redirection of the conversation was, in its way, almost as tension reducing as Xander’s attempts at humor.
“Apparently the necklace is in the Van Warren crypt in the old Sunnydale Memorial Cemetery. We’ve got a little daylight left, so vamps aren’t our main problem. But Willy did tell me that there were other demons in the area that seem to be keeping an eye on things for Angelus."
“Giles, Xander and I will create a diversion. Willow, you and Cordelia will go in and get the necklace. It’s supposed to be on the body of the Van Warren family patriarch, but who knows which corpse that will be, so grab every necklace you see.”
In apparent agreement with Cordelia’s echoing ewwww, Willow timidly offered, “Maybe we could distract and you could grave rob?”
Tossing her best friend a sympathetic smile the slayer continued, “Once you’ve got it you need to get to your car, Cordelia and drive to your house. Angel never had an invite and with whatever else is there focused on us you two should be safe as houses.”
***
And thus the crappiness ensued.
Part 1
It had actually been a fairly simple plan. Grope the dead guys, steal their jewelry and drive to safety. Okay, make that a simply disgusting plan. Still, what could go wrong?
Well, for starters, demons could have swarmed all over the decoy detail, the fighting blocking the path from the crypt to Cordelia’s car leaving her and Willow stranded in the house of the dead. Then, the sun could have set just as they were able to make a run for it. And of course, by the time they got within sight of the car Angelus could have been leaning against it. All of that could have happened.
And it did.
Which is why Cordelia was now running. Since she and Willow had broke and run in different directions she figured she had a head start. The Scoobies had always believed that she was ineffectual, even when Angel had still been around. Actually, even more when Angel had been there. So it only stood to reason that Angelus would believe that it would be Willow who would find and transport the necklace.
But it wasn’t going to take Angelus long to learn that he, like most people had misjudged her. Cordelia fervently hoped that he didn’t learn that lesson by killing the quiet redhead.
As she whizzed past a fairly new grave she came to an abrupt halt. Cordelia knew that no matter what anyone else thought the one thing you couldn’t deny was that she was smart. She was a Chase, after all. Although she had a unique kind of logic all her own, when it came down to reality she could be as clear and analytical in discerning how to come out on top of a situation as the most seasoned of businessmen. That’s why, even as she was being chased through a graveyard by a demon who would have no qualms about killing her, she stopped.
Chase Business Rule #1 – A good businessman never enters a situation without leverage. Good business deals could only be made when both parties had something the other wanted.
Knowing this to be true, Cordelia set about creating herself some leverage. And with that thought in mind she carefully scanned the landscape for anyone, human or other that might be watching, and made her way over to the grave that had caught her attention. What had really drawn her eye to the plot was the headstone.
Made of granite, the headstone was nothing out of the ordinary, especially by Sunnydale standards. Simple, yet elegant, it bore the name Emily Winston and the dates of both her birth and death. Attached to the marker, below the writing was a brass vase proudly displaying a clutch of white carnations that were far past their prime.
This vase was what now drew Cordelia. Determined to make the most of the only leverage at her disposal, she quietly slipped the necklace into the vase where it was quickly hidden by the dying blooms.
The necklace seen to, she took of running once again. As she finally reached the edge of the cemetery she paused briefly to decide which way to go. Although there were houses in each direction this was a much older part of Sunnydale so they weren’t set close together, cutting down on her opportunities for help.
With a sixth sense that comes from being the prey of a much stronger animal, Cordelia knew that her time was fast running out. Looking once again to her right she saw a large house that was fairly well lit, certainly giving the impression of being currently occupied. Making her decision in an instant, she gathered what was left of her stamina and made a mad dash for what she could only hope was some kind of safety.
Reaching the door, Cordelia began pounding with all her might, begging for entrance. Repeating the mantra in her head, “Don’t look back - Don’t look back” she of course found herself looking back. As a blur of dark color reached the edge of the cemetery, she knew that lady luck was fast abandoning her. In desperation she reached for the door handle, and to her surprise it opened under her touch. Thankful for the homeowner who must be new to Sunnydale since no one who’s lived her for any reasonable amount of time would leave their front door unlocked, Cordelia threw it open and quickly made her way to safety.
Hearing sounds coming from what she assumed was the living room, Cordelia made her way towards the voices. Knowing that even if these people were unaware of the true dangers of Sunnydale they still might react poorly to a stranger just barging into their house she prepared to announce her presence.
A small, manufactured cough turned the heads of everyone in the room. As Cordelia struggled to catch her breath felt an odd shiver run down her spine. Surviving on the Hellmouth meant trusting your instincts and her instincts were screaming that something here was off.
She had about 2 seconds to give this potential trouble some serious thought when she became aware of definite trouble as two strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist, pulling her back against a hard cool chest. Even though she knew, without a doubt in whose embrace she now found herself, hearing the deep voice, smooth and silky still shot fear through her heart.
“Excuse us.”
Part 2
“Excuse us.”
With those words Cordelia’s world turned into a blur of colors as she was pulled at superhuman speed out of the living room, across the hall and into what appeared to be a small study. As quickly as it began the wild ride ended and she tried to calm her dizzy senses. Looking around the room with great trepidation her eyes only confirmed what she had already guessed, she was now in the company of a being rightly called a scourge.
Completely dominating the small room, the vampire stood in a deceptively relaxed position, leaning against the door, his leather clad legs crossed at the ankles; his silk covered arms crossed over his chest.
“Unfair!” Cordelia cried. “How did you get in here without an invite?” Disgruntlement clearly written all over her face, she seemed almost like a young child who’d been cheated by a playmate and was about to call for a do-over.
“Funny thing; I only need an invite when the house belongs to humans.” Angelus paused to let that sink in. Upon hearing something that vaguely sounded like “Oh, crap”, he assumed that she had grasped the gravity of the situation in which she now found herself.
Rolling his shoulders, he pushed himself away from the door and took a step closer to the unhappy girl. Breathing deeply, he scented her fear, but to her credit he could honestly say that he’d smelled far more terror on many adversaries who were actually better equipped to face a vampire such as himself. It couldn’t be because she believed in any imminent rescue by the slayer. After the way she tore out of the graveyard she would have to know that the slayer had no idea where she was.
Could it possibly be that she, like Buffy, believed that there was some of Angel still languishing inside of him fighting to escape the demon’s control? Oh, if only that were true. To force Angel to be the one who sits silent while the soul’s instincts are ignored instead of the demon’s. What a delicious torment that would be. But alas, when the soul had departed it had taken off to parts unknown and Angelus could honestly say that he wasn’t sorry about that fact.
Well, whatever delusion she was harboring that was allowing her to contain her fear was certain to shatter when he killed her. With that happy thought in mind Angelus crowded in on the cheerleader.
“Give me my amulet, Cordelia.”
Cordelia shivered as Angelus’ sensually menacing tone seemed to flow over her body like a carnal caress. Endless nights of research had taught her that fear to vampires was like blood to sharks – it would push them into a frenzy, drawing out the predator to the exclusion of all else. So, struggling to maintain some small vestige of her outward composure she adjusted the wispy silk blouse much too nice to die in, and smoothed out the creases in her beige linen slacks and then forced her eyes to meet his.
“I hid it.”
Lips curling up in a smirk, Angelus slowly circled behind her and bent towards her ear. “Well, while I’d love to search you, I’m somewhat pressed for time so why don’t you be a good girl and hand it over.”
Surprisingly, it wasn’t horror that Angelus felt flaring out from the teenager’s body, but irritation.
“Don’t be a dumbass. Why even bother to hide it if I’m just going to do so on my person? Then you could just kill me and take it. What kind of leverage would that be?” God she was tied of people constantly underestimating her.
Angelus had killed people for much less than speaking to him in such an insolent manner. Hell, he thought, he’d killed people for simply speaking, or not speaking, speaking too loudly or to softly. He just really enjoyed killing people.
“If you give it to me now I can make your death quick and...relatively painless. The longer you make me wait, the longer I’ll make you wait. How long to you think you can stay sane when I’m peeling off your skin, Cordelia?”
Suppressing the urge to vomit all over the vampire, although he clearly deserved it, Cordelia jerked her chin up and somehow, even through the waves of fear she was giving off, managed to look disdainfully over her shoulder at him.
“Let’s face it, I’d probably crack pretty quickly. I’m not one for the stiff upper lip and all. That’s probably more Giles’ thing. But I’m willing to bet that I can hold out long enough for those demons out there to come in here to find out what’s going on. Not only will you have to explain why a teenager, and not the almighty Angelus has their necklace, but I’m pretty sure that I can be terribly convincing when I tell all those nasty demons that they're in trouble ‘cause this has all been a setup and now Angel is gonna kick their ass while we wait for the slayer. How do you think they’d take that; thinking you’d tricked them?”
“Well I could kill you, that should prove who I am.”
“But that would leave you without your necklace, so we’d both be dead. Besides, I get the feeling that having my neck snapped in some freakish display of power for those demons would be far preferable to what you’d do to me if you had more time. And if I’m dying anyways, I might as well take you with me.”
Cordelia could hear the words coming out of her mouth. She knew that she was, literally, digging her own grave, but she couldn’t seem to stop. She’d worked so hard telling herself to be brave that she couldn’t seem to quit and she was fast crossing the line into stupid. Taking a deep breath she tried to redirect the exchange of death threats into a more productive, less murdery type of discourse.
Chase Business Rule #2 - Don’t be afraid to make an offer. Every successful negotiation has to start somewhere.
“Look, you want your amulet thingy and I want to get out of here with my pulse in tact. Why don’t we make a deal? You get me home, safe and sound, and I’ll give you back your necklace. You can come right back here and carry out your nefarious jewelry plotting to your heart’s content.”
Angelus stepped around in front of the girl, assessing her with new eyes. He would never have given her this much credit. The slayer had certainly never had anything complimentary to say about the girl. Of course, that was almost a recommendation to his way of thinking. Whatever she had to say was sure to be interesting, and since he seemed to have no choice he decided just to go with it and see where it took him. Of course, if it didn’t take him where he wanted to go he could always rip her beautiful head off of her shoulders.
“Making deals with the devil, Cordelia? Now, now, now, what would the slayer say?”
“Who cares as long as I’m alive to find out?”
A very valid point from her, Angelus followed it up with one of his own. “How do I know you’ll keep you end of the deal?”
Cordelia gave him a look that severely questioned his sanity. “You’re kidding right? ‘Cause yeah, that’s what I want to do – piss off the new homicidal maniac on the block. In case you’re missing it here, I’m not trying to be a hero, I’m trying to get home in an entirely not dead state. To that end I could care less about your evil accessories. You’re welcome to it if it gets me home. Believe me, I’m no Buffy. I’m not dying to save the world. If I’m going to be dead, frankly the rest of the world can go to Hell for all I care.”
If it wouldn’t have given her away, Cordelia would have crossed her fingers in the hopes that Angelus bought her bluff. After all, if she didn’t care then why would she have been there tonight. Still, she really wasn’t a part of the group when Angel was around, so he’d probably just remember her as Buffy’s bitchy nemesis.
Angelus realized that whatever he decided he’d have to act fast. Frustrated, but knowing that the demons wouldn’t wait forever, he realized he had no choice but to work with the young brunette and then kill her once he had the amulet.
“Alright.”
Cordelia blinked at the abrupt turn around. Knowing she shouldn’t question her good fortune she couldn’t help but ask, “Alright what?”
“You – home, safe and sound; the amulet with me.”
Almost dizzy with relief that there might be a light at the end of this tunnel that didn’t have people beckoning her towards the afterlife, she quickly accepted. “Deal. Let’s go.”
At Angelus’ continued pause Cordelia tuned wide, questioning eyes his way. “What now?”
As if explaining to a child, Angelus pointed out, “You do understand that they’re not going to believe that I’m palling around with a human for no reason.”
“Well then you better think of one.”
Cordelia knew that the smirk on his face did not bode well for her, but she was also supremely aware of her lack of options.
“Oh, I already have.”
With those chilling words, Angelus used his preternatural speed to pull her to him, restraining her with his left hand, while winding his right hand through the heavy silken strands of her hair, he snapped her head back and barred her throat. Sliding his left hand up over her generous curves to cover her mouth, he stifled her scream as he sliced his fangs through her velvet skin and into her jugular.
As Cordelia’s essence surged into his mouth in time to the accelerated pounding of her heart, Angelus experienced things about her that only a vampire could ever know.
He tasted the fear crashing through every cell, invading every molecule. He was impressed that she was able to hide so much fear so well. Most people were reduced to hysterical sobbing and incoherent pleadings for their life by now.
Beyond the fear he tasted a myriad of emotions; feelings he wouldn’t have expected from the beautiful and popular cheerleader – pain, solitude, emptiness, so many emotions that run contrary to the persona he had always associated with the girl.
There was also the fiery taste of her anger. She was mad as Hell that he'd dared to bite her, and if he wasn’t a powerful demon he’d be extremely wary of the ire rushing through her entire system.
But as Angelus waded through all of those sensations, each alluring in it’s own way, each giving him access to places she would never willingly allow him, the thing that startled him more than anything was something he had never anticipated – her innocence.
Angelus had long been a connoisseur of virgins. Some might say it was his specialty. Although his fixation had started as a way to mock Darla – always chasing purity, valuing it above all else, knowing that it drove his sire mad to be constantly reminded, no matter how subtly, that she was a whore. But whatever the reason the hobby had grown into a lustful infatuation. There was no denying that the blood of the untouched was different somehow. It was sweeter, thicker, it held hopes and dreams unspoiled by time or experience. It had an almost mystical feel to it, which wasn’t odd if one considered that it was often used in rituals and magick ceremonies.
But whereas most virgins, being untried by life, were timid by nature, Cordelia was an intriguing dichotomy of strength and fragility. She was a swirling mass of loneliness and despair held back by sheer force of will alone. She was confidence and pride, which she used to cover a tender heart and gentle soul. She was a puzzle, the likes of which he’d never seen before, and he wondered, briefly, at the kind of demon she would make.
That thought brought Angelus crashing back to reality as he realized that he had a house full of powerful and influential demons waiting for him. He sadly concluded that this was not the time to be indulging in these particular fantasies. In a way he was somewhat relieved. He’d hate to think that because of a few sips of, admittedly amazing blood he’d be stuck with someone like Cordelia Chase for eternity. One undead bitch in his life had been more than enough, thank you.
With those sobering thoughts in mind Angelus withdrew his fangs from her neck and gently laved his wounds with his tongue, sealing them. As he pulled his head back he admired the twin punctures now adorning her neck. They were red and angry and it was already apparent that they would leave an impressive scar. The sight sent a frisson of possessiveness running through him but he easily tamped it down. After all, he was a master vampire, he could rule his instincts when the need arose. Thankfully though, the need rarely arose.
Tearing his gaze from her throat and meeting her eyes, he smiled slightly to see Cordelia’s fierce look of anger and betrayal. As she slapped her hand over the wound on her throat Angelus bit back a growl as the torn flesh disappeared from his sight.
“What the Hell are you doing? I thought we had a deal!”
He flinched at the high pitched screech that assaulted his ears. “We did, I’m just keeping up my end.”
“By snacking on me?” Disbelief dripped from every syllable.
“By giving you a legitimate reason for being here.” The vampire scowled.
“Dinner?!?”
Slowly the scowl turned into a mischievous grin. “Pet.”
Cordelia’s mouth opened and closed as she struggled to swallow the rage in her throat long enough to speak. Angelus enjoyed what he was sure was a rare moment of silence from her, but as the seconds went by he found himself wishing for her to regain the power of speech just so he could here whatever surprising thing she was sure to say next.
Cordelia finally managed to pull in a lungful of oxygen, which she promptly spit back out in a flow of acerbic words. “What? No way, buster. I’d rather let the demons kill me.”
Even though Angelus knew that time was short he couldn’t help winding up the livid girl in front of him. “Now baby, what kind of master would I be if I let someone damage my property?”
Cordelia froze at the condecending question. “God, you’re such a bastard!”
Grabbing hold of her chin he pulled her face up so that her gaze locked with his. “It would be wise not to forget that, sweetheart.”
“Geez, you’re such a guy, except instead of your penis all your decisions are made by your fangs. Do you have no impulse control?”
Moving his hand from her face to her arm, his other hand came forward to grasp her shoulders in a punishing grip. “You think I’m happy about this?” The intimidating words growled deep in his throat.
Shaking off the restraining hands, a clear indication that he was ready to let her go, Cordelia spat back, “You bet you are. There’s nothing wrong with my blood, buddy. I taste great...and isn’t this so the wrong thing to be telling a vampire.”
The smirk tilted Angelus’ sensual lips once again as he pretended to consider Cordelia’s rash words. “Actually, I didn’t take that much. To make an informed decision as to the quality of your blood I’d have to have another sample.”
Even as he said the words he knew they were a lie. He’d imbibed more than enough of Cordelia Chase to say that, without a doubt, she was one of the most intoxicating flavors that had ever teased his pallet. But in the remarkably short time he knew her he could deduce, with absolute certainty, that this was information she would find neither reassuring nor complimentary.
In a testament to the strength of her will, Cordelia pulled herself together, straightened he spine and affected a cold and disinterested look. “Pfft, whatever.” She dismissed his ridiculous offer with a wave of her hand. She hesitated for a moment, a look of indecision crossing her face. “Look, this shouldn’t be so hard, right? It’s just acting and I’ve been thinking about taking drama when I get into college and out of this hellhole, so this will be good practice. So,” Cordelia looked up at Angelus in expectation, “what’s my motivation?”
Wondering if he’d ever been in a situation that made less sense than this, Angelus questioned her ludicrous statement in confusion, “What?”
“My motivation. You know, why I’m doing this.”
Well, at least that was fairly obvious to him. “So you’ll live to be killed another day, remember?”
“Duh. We know that’s my motivation, but they” Cordelia wildly gestured to indicate those outside of the room, “don’t know that. What’s my motivation for them?”
“Look,” Angelus bit out, slightly stunned at being duhed. “Outside this room is a clan of A’toreal demons. I need their backing to solidify my hold on this truly Godforsaken town. They’re concerned about rumors of my soul. The amulet is a way to show them that there’s nothing here but 100% demon. You don’t need a motivation for any of that. You just need to keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking. Now let’s go.”
Showing how little he knew of Cordelia Chase, Angelus considered the matter closed and began pulling her back towards the room full of demons eagerly awaiting an explanation of their earlier sudden arrival and departure.
As they entered the living room the demons rose from their seats to greet them. As they addressed Angelus Cordelia took the opportunity to inspect them more closely.
Dressed in casual yet upscale clothing, they gave the impression of nothing more sinister than businessmen gathering after hours to network over some drinks. Humanoid in appearance Cordelia really couldn’t find anything that would betray their demon status until what appeared to be the leader of this little get together turned his gaze to her.
A shiver of fear worked its way up her spine as, underneath a shock of yellow hair, she peered into eyes that were completely black, as if the pupil had expanded to engulf not just the iris but also the whites. It was a stark reminder that this was not one of her father’s business parties and she would do well to be on guard. That warning in mind she forced her attention to what was being said.
“Angelus,” The demon spoke to the vampire but his stare was trained disdainfully on Cordelia. “I’m glad you could make it. But I must say, I’m rather surprised that you brought your pet.”
Shit, Angelus cursed in his head. Gaining the trust of the A’toreal clan was essential to his plans. This task was difficult enough without one of the slayer’s damn do-gooders tagging along. God, he was going to enjoy killing her.
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