Part 40
“He’s not back yet.”
The irritation in Eve’s voice was barely audible, but Jace knew it well enough to hear the tiny threads of it sewn throughout her tone. It stood out like silver strands against grey cloth: visible in only the right lighting. Jace had had time to learn many of her moods, and irritation was one of the most familiar.
Eve lay next to him on the bed, the sheet partially covering her bare skin. Not one part of their bodies touched despite the fact that they’d just made love minutes before. It was as if their bodies had connected but their souls had not. And in the afterglow, neither of them had been in the mood to extend the pleasure to something more cerebral. It worried Eve that Jace hadn’t wanted to cuddle. He always wanted to cuddle.
“It’s only been a day, Eve.” Jace tried to keep his voice neutral, but his exasperation was close to the surface.
“I still think you should look for him.”
“I said I would look for him if he didn’t come back tomorrow, and I will.”
“That’s not good enough!” Eve exploded, bolting up in bed and pinning him to the mattress with her angry stare.
When Eve met Jace’s eyes, what she saw there scared her. They were emotionless. Bottomless. A black well, void of the love she’d come to expect in his gaze. She’d broken him and now she was paying for it.
Her biggest problem wasn’t that she didn’t love Jace back; that was an impossibility. The problem was that she’d let him realize that she would never love him. She’d taken away the only leverage she had over him with her cold brutality and desperately needed it back. Mental manipulation was her only weapon now and she seemed to have forgotten how to use it.
Her eyes softened, filling with tears. As if embarrassed, she dragged her eyes away from him and turned her back. With sheer willpower, she forced her voice to drop, pulling the anger out of it and replacing it with frantic despair. “I’m so worried that it will all go wrong, Jace.”
She went in character, the sound of a woman just about to burst into tears, but hanging on by just a thread. Breathing deeply, she shuddered, her bare back shaking like a leaf.
Silence filled the room like a thick, choking blanket as she waited for him to respond. When he didn’t, she sighed again, quivering for effect, and slipped from the bed, disappearing into the bathroom and turning on the shower.
A few minutes seemed like years as she waited to see if he would break and follow her. She kept her tears flowing, knowing that she’d need the red-rimmed look to keep her ruse authentic. Just when she was about to give up, the shower curtain slid open and a breeze of cool air hit her back. Jace’s arms closed around her from behind.
One large hand stroked her belly, just below her navel, his fingers spread wide over her skin. His lips sank into her neck, teasing her, and leaning back into him, she allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction at the feel of his erection pressing against her backside.
“I thought you weren’t going to come,” she said tearfully. “I know you’re unhappy with me, but I just—”
“Shhh,” Jace said, silencing her with his free hand across her mouth. He sighed against her skin. “I was mad at you. I still am. You’ve hurt me a lot since we’ve been together, Eve. I went through hell for you, contaminated my body for you, and you didn’t seem to care—” his voice broke and he buried his tear-filled eyes against her shoulder.
Quickly, she turned around in his arms and cupped his face in her hands, tilting it up to him.
“I couldn’t let the pain you felt get to me, Jace. I couldn’t let it keep me from completing this mission. I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I don’t want you to think I’m a shallow, heartless bitch.”
“I don’t!” he quickly reassured her, soothed by the contrition he saw in her gaze. “I just don’t know what to think. About us, I mean.”
She sighed, stroking his stubbly chin with her wet thumb. “Jace, I know I’ve thrown my love of Lindsay in your face so much that you think I can’t move past him. But I care about you a lot. A whole lot. But with everything that’s going on I just can’t let myself. . .” she trailed off, biting her lip. “I owe this to him.”
“Shh, baby, I know,” Jace said, stroking her back with his hands.
“No,” she said firmly. “I need to finish this. I can’t be what you need right now, but after this is all over, after I avenge Lindsay . . .” she didn’t finish the sentence, but the light shining in Jace’s eyes told her that he’d finished it for her. Exactly in the way she’d meant for him to.
It was the hardest thing she’d done in her life to keep the burst of glee from showing on her face or glinting in her eyes. She must’ve been successful, because Jace cupped her face in his hands and smiled tearfully at her, kissing her softly.
“God, baby, I love you so much,” he whispered, then began to kiss his way down her body until he knelt in front of her.
It wasn’t until Jace began to worship her with his mouth that Eve let the sweet satisfaction of victory wash over her. She’d done it. Jace was a stupid, malleable thug, but he was all hers.
Part 41
“You said yesterday that you can fully restore my memories.”
Sitting at the counter in Angel’s apartment kitchenette, Connor’s voice was filled with wariness and something else Cordy and Angel couldn’t quite identify.
“Yes,” Cordy nodded. “Wesley’s big with the spell mojo and he can help restore them today, if you’re game.”
Connor frowned. “What will happen if I don’t get them back?”
“Our experts say that your old memories will eventually replace your new ones, and you’ll become the person you were before we gave you a new life.” Angel tried to say it gently, but there wasn’t really a good way to do that.
Startled eyes whipped to meet his. The entire, nightmare filled night, Connor had thought that restoring his memories would mean turning his back on the life he’d loved, even if it were fake. That it would mean abandoning his sister and grandmother, and spitting on his parents’ graves. It had never entered his mind that not restoring them would do that.
“You mean I would become the psycho person in my dreams?” It was currently his biggest fear. A shudder ran through him as he recalled the conversation he’d had with his dream-self last night.
Angel nodded sadly. “It seems that way. Wesley seems to think that your new memories would help to soften the full impact of your old ones. That the person you’ve become because of your changed life could salvage the destroyed person you were before.”
“Connor.” Cordy’s voice was soft as she came to sit beside him at the breakfast bar. She touched his hand where it sat on the table, stroking her fingertips against the back of his palm. “Getting your old memories back doesn’t mean your new memories weren’t real.”
“Huh?”
“What I mean is that your parents died believing you were their son. Their love for you was real. Your sister’s love for you is real. The experiences you were given and those you had after time started again made you into the well-adjusted person you are today.”
He laughed wryly. “I don’t know if well-adjusted is the best word to describe me right now.”
Angel stared at him. “The old Connor would’ve tried to stake me already.”
Connor’s eyes grew wide. “You’re probably right. But I don’t understand him at all. I mean I don’t understand that me at all. None of what happened was your fault. Holtz did it all. He destroyed your life and mine, too. He’s the one I should’ve hated, but I listened to him and hated you instead. How could I have been so stupid?”
Cordy threw her arm around him and squeezed him tightly. “You were too close to the situation, Connor. Now, with the stability you’ve had in your new life, you can assess the situation rationally. But then, you had no stable foundation to rely on. You couldn’t trust anybody. But now you have the chance to have the best of both worlds.”
“But my grandma and my sister will know the truth when we get our memories back. I won’t exist for them anymore.”
“You still will,” Angel countered. “The spell only affects people who are in the same room when the spell is performed. If you want, you can go back to San Francisco and live your life as if none of this had happened. Only you and we here would know the difference.”
They fell silent as Connor digested this. Finally, he nodded.
“When do we do this?”
“You want to?” Angel tried to keep the excitement out of his voice.
Connor’s eyes softened as he allowed himself to look at his father for the first time without malice.
“I’ve already lost one father; I don’t want to lose another one if I can help it.”
Angel was speechless.
Cordy gave him time to gather himself by saying, “So what’s with the Fruity Pebbles, sport? Isn’t that kinda lame for a nineteen year old?”
Connor let a ghost of a smile cross his face. “Back off, babe. I’ll have you know that Fruity Pebbles is a highly nutritious breakfast choice.”
“Oh, really,” Cordy said, grinning at him. They began to discuss the pros and cons to sugary cereal, and finally, Angel recovered enough to join them, adding his own opinion to the mix. The cloud over them finally disappeared when he laughed at Cordy’s remark: anyone who mixed cereal with a bodily fluid wasn’t qualified to comment.
Part 42
Wesley looked nervous as he clutched the notepad in his hand. “Angel, there’s no easy way to put this.”
The boss raised his eyebrows as he looked up at Wesley, then scanned the fan club behind him. “So just tell me.”
Wesley nodded. “We want our memories back, too.”
His support group flanked him: Lorne, Gunn, Spike, and Fred. When Angel had approached him about restoring Connor’s memories this afternoon, the group had determined that they wanted to be there. They’d all decided they would confront Angel about the memory alteration. They wanted their memories back, too.
Angel just blinked at them in disbelief. “Your memories? What do you mean?” he asked, playing dumb.
“Oh, come off it, Peaches. We know our memories were changed when Connor’s were.” Spike regarded him with nothing less than disdain.
“And how do you figure that?”
“We realized that Connor couldn’t have been born without us knowing about it. He’s obviously the child of a prophecy if you and Darla are his parents. What doesn’t make sense is that you would keep us completely in the dark, unless you feared that our knowledge would put him in danger.”
A frown marred Angel’s face. He knew Wesley was smart, he just didn’t think his friend would’ve put all of the facts together in a way that would come so close to the truth. Right then, he wished Cordy were there with him. She would know what to say. As it were, she was entertaining Connor and hadn’t wanted to join him.
Angel sighed, giving in to the inevitable. “You’re right, Wes. Your memories were altered when Connor’s were so that no one would know of his existence except me and a few other Wolfram & Hart people. He couldn’t be safe otherwise.”
“Oh, good,” Fred said, sighing with relief. “We knew you would have a good reason.”
“Speak for yourself,” Gunn muttered, earning a glare from Wesley.
Lorne frowned at Angel. “If you knew about this, how were you able to hide it from me when I’ve read you?”
Angel shrugged. “I think it was some kind of mystical shield the set up when the memories were altered. I don’t know a whole lot about it, just that I wanted it done.”
“Whatever the case,” Wesley continued, “we want our memories restored as well.”
Regarding him seriously, Angel stood and walked around the desk, leaning on the front of it and crossing his arms. “You should think about this awhile before you do it. None of us acted in a way we can be proud of.” Angel met each pair of eyes and stared them down. Most looked away uncomfortably. Only Spike met him head on, understanding in his blue-eyed gaze. Only he understood what it was like to regret the past in the same way Angel did.
“Nonetheless, we’re quite certain this is what we want.” Wesley felt comfortable speaking for the group. Their conversation before this meeting had left no doubt in anyone’s minds as to their intentions.
Angel frowned, wondering if he should prepare Wesley for what he was about to face. In the end, he decided that Wesley was willing accept it, whatever his past might hold.
“If you’re sure, I have no problem with it. Connor can use all the support he can get. If you remember what he was like before, you’ll be able to be his family again.”
“Very well,” Wesley said, nodding his head confidently. “We can have the spell set up for early this afternoon. I’m sure that Connor is anxious to get on with it?”
Nodding, Angel stood. “We’re ready. We’ll meet you in the conference room at one o’clock.”
With that, he strode out of the room, leaving his friends to ponder the change they had just agreed to.
Part 43
The ritual’s participants stood in a circle, hands clasped. Wesley stood in the center of the room, a book in one hand, his other palm open and facing the sky.
“Focus your concentration on my hand. Repeat the words with me.”
Wesley recited a Latin phrase, the words flowing over his tongue like cool water. The others intoned the incantation after him. Wesley’s palm grew warm as he felt the energy wash over him. A small black and beige glass box appeared and shimmered in his hand.
“We did it,” he breathed, his eyes wide as he took in the small, glowing box. Gently, he set the book aside, taking the box in both hands. Steadying himself with a deep breath, he circled once, catching the eyes of each person in the room.
“Release each other’s hands. The memories are said to be overwhelming, almost choking at first. Your new life will mix with your old life, and it will take work to distinguish what is real and what has been made real. If the old memories are bad, use the new ones to soften their impact. To escape from them.”
Angel knew that Wesley’s speech was as much for himself as it was for everyone else. Connor was the only one who looked somewhat confident, already knowing what he was about to face.
“Is everyone ready?”
Everyone nodded in answer to Wesley’s question.
“Then it will be done.” As the words left his lips, Wesley released his fingers from the box and it dropped to the tabletop, shattering in a million tiny pieces. A burst of energy lit up the room, everyone’s eyes lighting up and the breath leaving them in one huge whoosh. Angel and Cordy staggered, a bit disoriented, but it was mere moments before they felt normal again. They had no memories to be returned.
Angel watched his son’s face with apprehension. Connor’s eyes grew wide as soon as the box broken, his face turning immediately toward his father, and the anguish in his eyes grew almost tangible. Angel longed to walk across the room and pull him into his arms, but the old Connor, the distrustful Connor, was way too close to the surface right now.
Around the room, gasps and moans could be heard as each of the other participants, save Spike, sank to the floor. Tears rolled down Fred’s face as her mouth dropped open in disbelief. She clutched her hand to her heart and her eyes flew to Cordelia’s, then Connor’s, faces. It was as if she almost couldn’t comprehend what had happened to them.
Gunn shook his head, slamming his fist against the floor, growling his anger. Lorne muttered under his breath, holding his head, the psychic headache a painful side effect to the ritual.
Wesley was the worst off. He’d sunk to his knees the moment his memories came back, his eyes staring unseeing at the floor. As if in slow motion, his eyes filled up with tears, one overflowing and running down his cheek. Despair laced his gaze as he turned his eyes up to Angel’s, his very posture already begging for forgiveness.
“I betrayed you,” he whispered. “I thought you were going to kill him.”
Angel walked over to him, kneeling down at his side, one large hand clasping Wesley’s shoulder. The younger man tried to shrug away from him, but Angel wouldn’t let go.
“It’s in the past, Wesley. You’re different now.”
“I was different then,” Wesley argued. “I knew you would hate me but I felt I had no choice. I thought I was doing what was best for Connor.”
Wesley let his eyes move across the room and rest on Angel’s son. Connor’s eyes met Wesley’s and for a brief second, pure hatred rested there. His new self felt the need for vengeance for his suffering, and it seemed at the moment that all of his problems could be traced to this one man.
But just as soon as it appeared in his eyes, the hatred was gone, replaced by a compassion that mirrored his father’s. There were so many people at fault for what had happened to him, yet no one person to blame. Except maybe Holtz. But even he’d had a reason for his sadistic actions.
Wesley nodded as he looked from Connor’s eyes to Angel’s, then back again. He realized in that one moment that it was truly over. He’d lived with the betrayal hanging over his head for so long, the brief period of obliviousness his only respite. He could see the forgiveness in Angel’s eyes, even if the vampire would never say it.
Now they had Connor back, and all would be well again. At least they hoped so.
Part 44
Cool lips trailed across hot skin, finding all the hidden places that made her shiver. A sigh escaped her, the breath accompanying it skimming across his shoulder and sending sparks shooting down his back. He kissed his way up between her breasts, along her collarbone, her chin, and finally claimed her mouth. He paused there a moment, their lips brushing faintly, their breaths mingling in the still light of mid afternoon, and opened his eyes, staring into hers so deeply she feared she’d get lost.
“I love you, Cordy,” he breathed against her mouth, then kissed her until she thought she’d expire from the heat of it.
“A-Angel,” she gasped, pushing him back after a few breathless moments. “We don’t have time. Connor and the rest of the gang are coming back in just a little bit to hang out tonight.”
Angel looked at her funny. “Cordy, all of them were drained from the ritual. Fred and Wesley practically staggered from the room. Even Connor said he was going to take a nap. I think we have some time.”
She shook her head. “We don’t if we want to – ah!” Her eyes fluttered shut as Angel’s fingers tweaked her nipple. “Not fair!” she whined. “You’re cheating.”
“Oh, look at that pout,” he teased her, snaking a tongue out to swipe along her protruding bottom lip. “Tasty, baby. Very tasty.”
“I give up,” she said breathlessly. “Just be quick.”
He grinned, then set to work. With speed that defied the laws of nature, he had Cordelia undressed and perched on the edge of his desk, her toes barely touching the floor. He knelt in front of her, and with no warning at all, dove in and sucked on her clit. Hard.
Cordelia screamed without thinking about it. Angel jerked back, his eyes twinkling even as her fingers grasped his hair and tried to pull him back to her. He stood up, his duster and shirt sliding off his shoulders as he rose. He pulled his undershirt over his head, stomach muscles rippling with the movement. Cordy’s fingers reached out to touch him, but he backed away before she made contact, earning a whimper from his now-frustrated girlfriend.
The undershirt became a gag of sorts, although it probably wasn’t necessary. Screams at Wolfram & Hart were common place, and it was doubtful that any heads even turned when Cordy let her feelings be known so audibly. Even so, he didn’t want to take any chances that they’d be interrupted.
He kissed her mouth through the shirt now in his way. Her eyes were wide, but sparkling. She was loving this.
Sinking back to his knees, Angel took up where he left off, Cordy’s muffled screams telling him that his technique was flawless. He sucked, bit, and licked every inch of her swollen folds, sliding two thick fingers inside to stroke her sweet spot. She came more than once, her body trembling as he worshiped her in the best way he knew how.
Shaking hands brought him back up to eye level moments later, and Cordy reached behind her head to take the gag off, needing to feel his mouth on hers. The shirt fell around her neck and she pulled him to her, attacking his mouth with a ferocity that defied her human status. She bit his lip, drawing blood, sighing at the taste of him flowing into her mouth.
Angel’s growls matched hers. His pants were gone in moments and he stood closer to her, drawing her near the edge of the desk and against his hips. He thrust against her, rubbing but not entering, teasing them both into breathlessness. Trailing her face, then her neck, his cool mouth left a trail of ice that made her shiver as he licked his marks and bit them with blunt teeth.
“Now, Angel,” she demanded, reaching down and grasping him in her hands, determined to feel him inside her as soon as possible. He let her take control, guiding him inside her, and they both groaned at the feeling that was so new. It was as if they’d forgotten the beauty of being together until this very moment, and it overwhelmed them with its intensity each and every time they came together.
The rhythm was slow, steady, a sensual sliding in and out of her that made her close her eyes and shudder. Cordy let her lips rest on his neck, sucking at her mark there, biting him, needing to taste him again. She didn’t, not yet.
Angel let his demon out to play, his forehead ridges brushing against her shoulder as his fangs scored her skin. In one swift bite, the claim was renewed, her blood flowing over his tongue with the sweetness of a gift from the gods. Colors exploded behind his eyes as his body found unparalleled pleasure in the depths of hers.
Quivering, Cordelia found her own release as she felt her blood leave her body and nourish his. He needed her. Craved her. Desired her. Loved her. All of it culminated in this powerful, explosive physical joining that both drowned her and gave her life, all in the same instant.
Small, delicate licks closed wounds and stopped the flow of sweet blood. Cordy wrapped her arms around his neck, scooting further on the desk until her balance rested on him, not the furniture. They were still joined, still one, and she had an innate knowledge that when their bodies separated, it would be an unimportant physical fact, not anything symbolic of their new relationship. They were together. They belonged together.
Because of the Powers that Be, they would be together forever.
Part 45
“We should get up,” Angel said softly, cradling her in his arms. They were draped over the leather sofa in his office, once again fully clothed, but pressed up against each other so tightly it would be nearly impossible to separate one from the other.
“What time is it?” Cordy asked, kissing his jaw.
“Five-thirty,” Angel whispered. “They’re supposed to be there at six.”
“Everyone?”
He shook his head, his stubble brushing against her forehead making a light, pleasant friction. “No. Lorne has some celebrity thing tonight and Spike wanted to be alone. He’s still working some things out about Buffy.”
She squirmed in his arms at the mention of his ex-girlfriend. “Are you okay with them?”
“Being together?”
“Yeah.” She bit her lip, trying not to sound too apprehensive. He’d taken her when she’d offered herself, and he’d known that without her, his soul wouldn’t be permanent. If he could have any woman and his soul, would he still have chosen her?
Angel shrugged, feeling the tension in her body but not commenting on it. “I will always care about Buffy and I’ll always want what’s best for her. I used to think that Spike was the worst person for her, but now, I don’t know. The soul has strengthened the good that was always in him. Hasn’t changed his personality much,” he said wryly, “but he loves her. And she needs someone like him, I think.”
Cordy relaxed against him. They lay silent for a few more moments and she stroked his collar bone lightly with her fingers.
“What are we going to do about Connor?” she finally asked.
Angel gripped her more tightly. “We have to ask him to go back.”
Her breath stopped for a moment. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I can’t see another way. We haven’t even talked to him about Eve’s plans yet, but I know he won’t be able to tell us much. We don’t know enough, and he’s the only one who can get the information we need. We have to stop her. Kill her. It won’t be over otherwise. Connor won’t be safe.”
“Will he be safe if we send him back?”
Angel frowned fiercely. “I’ll send Spike to watch over him. Somehow I think that Eve’s people would recognize me. They might even recognize Spike, but there’s less chance of that. I’m worried about him, but Connor can take care of himself.”
She sighed. “You’re right. He’s a man now; he can take care of it.”
He was silent for a moment. “I just wonder . . .”
“What?”
Burying his face in her hair, Angel shuddered as if ashamed. “I keep wondering if I can trust him. He’s pretended to be on our side before, and then he tried to kill me. I love him, but I don’t know if I can trust him, Cordy.”
“I know,” she said softly, giving him a tight squeeze and kissing him softly. “You feel guilty for saying that, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “He’s my son. I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone except you. He’s a part of me, and I hate myself for thinking that about him.”
“Look at me,” she demanded, raising her eyes to fasten on his. “Connor is your son. He told us himself that he felt tremendous guilt about what he did to you before. His new life has given him the conscience he lacked in his old one. He won’t betray you, Angel.”
“I hope you’re right,” was all he could say before kissing her again, needing the contact to keep his perspective straight.