Part 27
“I guess now we know when to expect them to drop by,” Cordy whispered, her ears twitching as they heard Connor, Eve and Jace move the conversation back to more mundane things. They were in a dim diner, ensconced in a back booth right next them. They could hear every word spoken, and as the conversation had progressed, Angel’s tension had mounted.
Beside her, Angel sat as still as granite, his jaw locked and his body tense. All he wanted to do was reach over the high back of the booth and yank Eve out of her seat, then rip her head off her body in one swift pull. He could, too. And boy, oh boy did he want to.
The only thing that stopped him was Connor. He knew that his son didn’t remember him, and he wasn’t about to reinforce the ideas Connor had about him from before his new life was created. Connor would remember him manhandling Eve, and when he got his memories back, he would think that Angel was the same person he’d been before. He’d never understood his father well enough to let him in his heart, and Angel didn’t want to jeopardize it again.
There were already too many burned bridges in their past.
“So what are we going to do?” Cordy said a little louder after the trio got up from the table and headed toward the exit.
“We wait,” Angel said through clenched teeth. “We wait until Connor—”
Angel stopped abruptly, pulling Cordelia into his arms and kissing her thoroughly. His mouth attacked hers, his tongue sweeping inside and brushing hers until she arched into him and moaned, despite their location. His hands roamed her torso, briefly brushing her breasts, restraining himself only because he knew she wouldn’t appreciate getting naked in public. He didn’t really have a problem with it
“E-Excuse me?” A timid voice infiltrated Cordelia’s now-foggy brain and she pushed Angel away. He let her, gave one quick glance back toward the restaurants front door, then flashed a big smile at the waitress.
“Sorry about that.” Angel grinned, squeezing Cordelia against his side. “We’re newlyweds,” he said as if that explained everything.
“Oh! Congratulations.” The waitress’s blush fading slightly. “Would you like me to come back later?”
“No, we’re ready to order,” Cordelia said, a fierce blush of her own lighting up her face. The waitress wrote down their choices and left, smiling at them knowingly before walking away.
As soon as she was out of earshot Cordy elbowed Angel hard. “What the hell was that for? Embarrass me, why dontcha?”
He grinned. “You loved it. Admit it!”
“Well, pfft, yeah,” she said, smiling. “But you aren’t usually one for public displays of affection,” she pointed out.
“Except in restaurant bathrooms,” he countered, his eyes darkening.
Blushing again, her face heated. “Dumbass!” was all she could say.
He finally took pity on her and explained. “Connor suddenly turned and looked over here, and I freaked out, okay? I just wanted him to think he noticed us because of our behavior, not because of anything else.”
Pausing, he tried to figure out how to explain himself. “He’s got a sixth sense about the supernatural,” Angel said slowly. “I remember him mentioning it when he was staying with us. He can sense vampires and demons close by, just like I can.”
Cordy nodded, seeming to be satisfied with his explanation. “Then you were probably smart to do that, I guess.”
“Glad you approve,” he said dryly.
They sat in silence for a moment as Cordelia drank some of her water. “So what are we going to do about him?”
“I think we should tranq him, then take him back to L.A. and restore his memories,” Angel said bluntly.
“Angel!” Cordy gasped. “He’ll hate you for that when he remembers. We should just explain it to him.”
“We can’t,” Angel said, shaking his head. “We can’t afford to. What if he doesn’t believe us and he runs off to tell Eve? She told him my name, Cordy. He thinks I’m evil. He won’t trust me.”
“He doesn’t trust you anyway, Angel, remember?” She hated to say it, knowing it would hurt him, but it was the truth.
He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I know,” he said darkly, “but it’s going to change. It has to. I won’t have the life I created for him be destroyed completely.”
“And it won’t be,” she reassured him. “Even if we restore his memories, he’ll still have the new ones to help cushion the blow. Happier times to remember.”
“But they weren’t real.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Cordelia insisted. “They were real to him, so that makes them real. End of story.”
He stared at her for a little while, pondering the good fortune that had brought her back to him. He pulled her into his side, reaching his other hand up to cup her chin and bring her mouth to his. He lingered there for a moment, the kiss they shared as sweet as warm honey, and they both basked in the strength of their love.
Whatever happened with Connor, they had each other, and no one could take that away from them.
Part 28
Angel stood over his son, his big form blending into the apartment’s shadowy corner near Connor’s bed. He clutched the tranq gun in his hand tightly, barely noticing it. His son’s beautiful face held him in thrall, commanding every bit of his attention. Greedy eyes, long starved for a close view of his child, swept over the shrouded figure on the bed, resting briefly on each limb. He released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding as his exceptional vision reassured him that his son, after months away from his protection, was safe.
To the father in Angel, the fact that Connor was now an adult did nothing to assuage the worry raging within him. Angel knew that Connor was special. He knew that his son could take care of himself, even without the memories and lessons he’d learned about combat in his troubled youth. Surviving without Angel had been almost a badge of courage to Connor, and there was nothing to indicate he couldn’t do so for another eighteen. But Angel had every intention of seeing that he wouldn’t have to.
The love he felt for Connor overwhelmed him, bringing tears to his eyes. His fingers tightened further on the grip of the gun, his finger lightly brushing the side of the trigger. He didn’t want to do this. Didn’t want to bring his son back into the darkness of a life with too many bad memories. Bottom line: he didn’t want his son to hate him again.
But as fate would have it, he didn’t have a choice.
If he didn’t restore Connor’s memories, Connor would never believe him. He’d heard what Eve had said about him, and Connor thought he was an evil demon crime lord. Cordy seemed to think that they could appeal to Connor’s sense of reason and convince him to be on their side without destroying his new past.
Angel knew better.
He knew his son was just like him, despite Connor’s desperate wishes to the contrary, and Angel didn’t trust anyone without a good reason. The same stubborn, mistrustful streak had been present in his child from birth. He’d been wary of strangers as a baby, clinging to Angel, Cordy, or Wes if a stranger wanted to touch or hold him. The teenage version had the trait in spades, his time in Quortoth only sharpening it to a razor’s edge. No, there was only a slim chance that even this well-adjusted Connor would take Angel and Cordelia at their word in enough time to stop Eve’s plans.
The only other recourse had been to abduct his own son and restore his memories by force. Despite the fact that the whole plan made Angel queasy, he was more determined than ever to carry it through. The only hitch in the plan was that the old Connor didn’t trust him either.
He could only hope that his happy life, though fake, would give his son the level-headedness he’d always so desperately needed.
Connor’s arm twitched in his sleep and Angel was startled out of his musings. The time had come to bring his son home. Angel raised his hand, the gun steady, and pointed it directly at Connor’s jugular. Connor moaned in his sleep and Angel’s steady grip wavered. He watched, his resolve faltering as Connor began to toss his head from side to side, moaning, moving restlessly against the mattress. His eyes moved rapidly underneath his eyelids, his REM cycle in full swing as the nightmare overtook him.
Every paternal instinct within Angel screamed for him to lay the gun aside and cradle his son in his arms until Connor’s breathing evened and his heartbeat slowed. Angel fought against it, knowing what he had to do and knowing that prolonging it would only make it more difficult. Every second that ticked by made it harder for him to squeeze the trigger, knowing what it would mean for Connor.
His son began to stir more violently, his fists clutching at the blankets and sheets as if they would save him from the images that plagued him. He began to mutter, phrases that begged the phantoms to leave him alone, to go away and never come back.
Angel closed his eyes and turned his head away, gun still raised, and swallowed hard. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he swung back to face Connor, his finger tightening on the trigger.
Just then, Connor’s back arched, his mouth opening in a blood-curdling scream that sent chills up and down Angel’s spine. His finger flew from the trigger, the gun lowered immediately. He took a step forward, his hand reaching out for his son, and Connor bolted upright in bed, his breath coming in gasps.
Wide blue eyes met anxious brown ones, and for a moment, time stood still. Angel recovered quickly, raising the gun and firing in one swift motion, the dart lodging itself in Connor’s artery.
Connor’s fingers brushed the dart in his neck, pulling it out and holding it up in the moonlight. Angel’s eyes widened in shock as recognition flashed in Connor’s eyes, his breath hitching. Eyes struggled to focus as the tranquilizers began to overtake him, and looking up at Angel, he said the one thing his father never could have anticipated.
“Dad?”
Part 29
“I told you that he’d fallen for it, Jace,” Eve said smugly. Snuggling into his side, she kissed his chest lightly, then rubbed her fingers over the spot where her lips had been. The black cloth under her fingers was warm, the fabric of his shirt soaking up the late morning sun that shone above them.
Jace just squeezed her tighter, shifting slightly on the blanket beneath him, the grass rustling underneath. He wasn’t convinced that Connor was completely won over to their side. A look of mistrust had been clear in Connor’s eyes and it had grown into a visible emotion that threatened to explode all over them when Eve had made her barely-veiled threat against Connor’s family. The boy’s face had hardened instantly making Jace hold his breath as he waited for Connor’s reaction.
The sigh that had escaped him when Connor shrugged off her threat should have been of relief, but it was almost wholly of regret. He didn’t want to ruin this young man’s life; God knows he’d been through enough horrible things already.
But Jace had chosen his path. He loved Eve. He was Samson to her Delilah; he would give everything to her if she asked him.
“Yes, you were right,” Jace conceded, keeping his reservations to himself. “He’ll do it, and he’ll do it well, just like I taught him.”
He felt her cheek shift as she smiled against his chest. “It’s almost noon,” she finally commented, making a move to get up. “Time for your appointment.”
The grimace he gave her made her smile. “I don’t want to do this, Eve.” His voice was deep and pleading.
“I know you don’t, but you’re going to.” Her smile fell away abruptly. Moving closer, she stood so that she blocked the sun in his eyes. “This,” she gestured to the blanket and the remains of their picnic lunch, “is nothing. Nothing! The mission is what’s important, Jace. Angel will die. And I won’t have you standing in my way, do you understand?”
When only uncertain silence answered her, Eve pressed her point. “Need I remind you that you almost fucked this up already with your little Daddy Dearest routine? You owe me, Jace. Upgrading your strength will make you strong enough to throw him around a little bit. Maybe there’s time to salvage this, time to make him hate the sight of you yet.”
There was no mistaking the threat in her words. If he didn’t comply, she would destroy him. He would do as she asked. Submitting to the ritual would be painful beyond measure, but he would do it.
“I get it.” He stood up abruptly, gathering the basket and blanket before reaching for her hand. “It’ll work out, Eve. I won’t let anything destroy this for you. I’ll do the ritual.”
A smile that stole his breath lit up her entire face. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down, Jace.”
Jace only nodded. He really liked Connor, but he’d never choose Connor’s happiness over Eve’s. He loved her. There really was no other choice.
Part 30
“Don’t you think he’s been asleep for too long?”
The worry in Angel’s voice was starting to grate on Cordelia’s nerves. She glanced back at Connor’s still form, noting that his chest rose and fell with a regularity that was anything but frightening.
“He’s fine, Angel. Tranquilizers haven’t been known to kill anybody.”
He glared over at her before turning his eyes back to the road. “Of course they have. He could be having an allergic reaction and we won’t know until its too late. Or maybe I gave him too much and it’s damaged his brain. What if—”
“Geez, will you just shut up about it?” she groaned, glaring back at him. Instantly, she felt guilty as she saw the hurt expression on his face. She wasn’t usually so mean, at least not to Angel.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, resting her hand on his arm. “Angel, you have to let go. I know that there are issues here that make you clingy, and its perfectly understandable. But he’s an adult. A healthy adult. An adult that wouldn’t be knocked unconscious until you shot him three times!”
A sigh escaped his lips and he ran his fingers through his hair. They were halfway back to Los Angeles, and the road wound in front of them like a dangerous snake. At the other end, Connor would come to and they’d have to give him back a life he’d hated.
At the other end, Angel would have to ruin his son’s happiness.
“I’m worried about him,” he whispered.
“I kinda figured that out,” Cordelia said dryly. “But you have to have faith that we did the right thing. It will work out. I know it will. The Powers wouldn’t have sent me back if they thought we would fail.”
Angel shook his head, unconvinced. “I hope Wesley’s research goes fast.”
Cordy laughed at that, scooting over and snuggling up against Angel as he drove. “I think he was a little surprised when you called him,” she said.
He made a sound that suspiciously resembled her patented Pffft. “Surprised? That’s an understatement.” Wesley had been anything but prepared for the news Angel had thrown at him earlier that night.
They’d pulled Connor into the car quickly after he’d lost consciousness. A short drive led them to an empty parking lot where Angel stopped to make a call that was sure to turn his friends’ lives upside down. He hadn’t wanted to be driving while Wesley was sure to be yelling into his ear. Wesley didn’t yell often, but something like this was bound to shake him up a little. Even now, the conversation made Angel’s mouth twitch in a grin.
“Wes, it’s Angel.” He’d put on his no-nonsense boss tone and he could almost see Wesley straightening up in bed.
“Angel, it’s 2 in the morning.” Wesley’s voice had been gritty, his British accent slightly more pronounced at the edge of sleep. “What in the world is so important?”
Angel decided that being up front was probably the kindest option. “Cordy’s back,” he said simply.
Silence descended on the other end. “Angel, where are you?” Wesley’s voice was calm. Measured. As if he doubted Angel’s sanity.
“I’m not crazy, Wesley. She’s back. You wanna talk to her?”
Wesley sighed. “Angel, I really don’t think that—”
“Hey, Wes!” Cordy’s cheerful voice rang in Wesley’s ear and he jumped, holding the phone out in front of him as if it were a snake about to bite him. “Wes? Hello! Angel, he’s not there.”
Wesley quickly closed his mouth and brought the receiver back to his ear. “I’m here, I’m here!”
“Geez, freak out much?” she said good-naturedly. “You’d think you weren’t used to friends’ resurrections or something.”
“Well, they don’t exactly happen every day.” It was all he could think of to say.
“Very true. You okay, Wes? Angel told me about the close call with Fred. Alls I gotta say is that I’m glad you two finally got your heads outta your asses and got together. It’s about time. Everybody in heaven was betting on the date you’d come to your senses.” She winked at Angel in the darkness of the Plymouth’s interior.
On the other end, Wesley was startled. “People there pay attention to us?”
“Oh, hell yeah!” she said enthusiastically. “No TV there, you know? Gotta have something to keep themselves entertained. Eternity’s kinda boring without something to do.”
“I see.” To say he was dumbfounded would’ve been a gross inaccuracy. This entire conversation threatened his mental stability.
“Well, I’ll let you talk to Angel again, okay?”
“Yes. Okay.” He paused for a moment, then sat up and said loudly, “Cordy, wait!”
“Yeah?” she said softly, pulling the phone back to her ear.
“I missed you,” he said simply. “We all did.”
“I missed you guys, too. Can’t wait to see everybody. But Angel needs to tell that part, okay?”
She’d handed the phone back to Angel, and he’d explained part of what had happened to bring Cordy back. He told Wesley only that there was a young man who was trying to kill him and that he’d had his memories altered somehow. He needed to find a way to restore them. Wesley had assured him he’d have something by the time Angel got back to L.A.
Not once had Angel mentioned that Connor was his son.
“So are we there yet?”
The whine in Cordelia’s voice was enough to jerk Angel painfully back to the present. He gritted his teeth and glared at her briefly, but his face softened when he saw her smirk.
“Don’t tease me like that,” he shuddered. “It was bad enough the first hundred times.”
“Oh, shut up,” she countered. “You just looked so serious I had to do something. You’re so cute when you smile.”
“Vampires aren’t cute.”
“Whatever you say, Angel.” One of her mega-watt smiles beamed up at him. “Besides, I like teasing you.”
Angel just sighed long-sufferingly.
Cordy laughed at him. “Maybe I could change my methods,” she suggested. “Maybe a different kind of teasing would be better.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said innocently, pulling away from him and sitting forward in the seat, now better to be seen in his peripheral vision. Lightly running her fingers down the edge of her collar, she let her gaze get hot. “Something fun, maybe?”
Her fingers pulled the collar away from her chest, two buttons sliding loose as she tugged. Her lacy bra peeked out at him.
“Cordy!” he gasped, reaching an arm out to push her back against the seat. “Connor’s right there!”
She rolled her eyes and pouted, but ran her hand up his leg from the knee to his crotch anyway. “You’re no fun,” she grumbled, then stroked him through his jeans.
Angel groaned. “You’re going to kill me,” he muttered.
“Good thing you don’t die easily.” She grinned. “So we’ve got a lot of time to figure out a really fun way to get there.”
Part 31
The pain searing through Jace’s body was excruciating. It felt like someone had peeled off his skin, smeared jalapeño sauce all over the open wounds, and stitched his skin back on. Fire crawled up every square inch of his body, his eyes stinging and his mouth dry.
Nearby, Eve watched him with a grim smile. Jace lay on a stone slab, his hard body bared for the ritual. Black tribal artwork covered his arms and torso, snaking down around his powerful thighs and ending halfway down his calves and forearms. His black hair was wet with sweat, his face flushed. The pain on his face was evident but it didn’t deter Eve from her mission at all. She needed Jace at his best. Nothing else would do.
Satisfied that Jace wasn’t dying, Eve turned her critical eye to the other elements of the ritual. A hooded figure stood at Jace’s side, his arms crossed over his chest and his hands tucked into his voluminous sleeves. The figure had no face, only a deep, black void that seemed to suck light and energy from the room. The demon was the best at what he did, and it didn’t matter what he looked like. He could resemble a cockroach for all she cared as long as the result of the ritual was the same.
A bloodcurdling scream drew Eve’s attention away from the demon and to the stone slab to Jace’s right side. It was identical in size and shape to the one under her lover, but its occupant was almost a perfect opposite. A vampire lay rigid, back arched and jaw locked. Long, flowing blonde hair cascaded off the end of the slab, brushing against the floor. The vampire’s pale skin gleamed, her full mouth contorted in pain as the hooded figure drew closer to her side. She moaned, her blood being sucked from her drop by drop, only to be siphoned into Jace’s bloodstream. The end result: Jace’s mixed blood would give him the power, strength, and speed of a vampire. The vampire would be dust.
Naturally, Jace had been reluctant, but Eve had managed to persuade him. It was sad really. He was so in love with her, and she didn’t really care about him at all. Oh, she liked him okay, loved his body and what he did to her in bed, but her heart was off limits. Lindsay had taken it with him to the afterlife and she had nothing left to give Jace. She was using him and he knew it.
He followed her anyway.
Eve watched wordlessly as the last of the vampire’s blood drained into Jace . One final, eerie wail emerged from its mouth, floating away with the dust as the body disintegrated into nothingness.
Eve’s smile spread wider, shoulders straightening. The full moon was in eight days.
They would be ready.