Cats in Hells Chance 3

Part 3

THE HYPERION HOTEL (Where we left off)

“So what is it this time and where is everyone”? Asked Giles walking down the stairs, the bag left at the top where he’d dropped it, but carrying the paper like it was the bible or something. “I expected a Detective Agency to be busier”.

Er Hello, sole trader here , Cordy looked at Giles guileless face and decided not to get into it – Behind the times much?

“That’s the crisis” Cordelia told him in a clipped tone, still bemused at the arrival of the ex Sunnydale Librarian and ex Watcher – and if she was willing to admit one of her earliest crushes – must be a watcher or English thing, she thought remembering how hot Wesley had looked to her at one time, a long time ago she assured herself hurriedly.

Shaking her head slightly to dislodge the unwelcome nostalgia trip, she decided to take the bull by the horns and asked him; “What are you doing here anyway Giles – not that you’re not welcome or anything”, she added the last bit hastily when he looked at her with an ‘annoyed and trying to hide it’ expression.

“Thank you” Said Giles with careful emphasis before taking his glasses off for a quick polish. Typical Cordelia, never one for wasting time on the pleasantries.

Cordy gave a small smile, despite her worry – amused at the all too familiar gesture and then with a brow raised to speed things along; waited for a reply knowing silence is more effective on people like Giles than badgering. She was right too – unfortunately.

“I was coming in this direction anyway and well, I’m here to see Angel on Buffy’s behalf – she’s worried about him and I’m worried about her” said Giles and then placed his glasses carefully back on his nose, he looked up at Cordelia, obviously uncomfortable discussing it with her.

”Well Duh he’s here for Buffy – his ex and talking to me his ‘now and staying that way’ lover”, she did her damndest to ignore the surge of jealousy and instead of giving it to him with both barrels – like she wanted; she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt – maybe he just didn’t know.

“Aren’t we all” Said Cordy and for once the super sensitive Rupert Giles failed to notice the freeze in her voice and suddenly stiff body – or if he did, saw nothing wrong with it; after all it had been a while since he’d last seen her.

“So what was that you were saying about them being – missing was it”? Giles asked, looking around him, scrutinising the lobby and what he could see of the office.

“Just Angel – and maybe Wesley, but I’m not sure about Wes” replied Cordy crisply as she walked back over the phone on the counter and dialling Wes’s home number again.

“So what do you think has happened to him – have you checked his room”? Asked Giles, trying to think methodically and not sure how successful he’d be considering he was talking to Cordelia Chase.

Wow you really are behind the times, Buffy not too talkative then. “That would be my room now” replied Cordelia with a hint of steel still in her tone as she put down the ringing phone – no answer. Then relenting, she explained “Angel gave up the hotel when he took over Wolfram & Hart; this is my place now”.

Giles gaped at her for a second before recovering with a murmured “Oh”, then it hit him and he frowned, “So how do you know he’s missing – maybe he’s just not answering the phone or he could simply be asleep”.

Giles relaxed somewhat, ruefully thinking he’d forgotten how melodramatic Cordelia could be, especially when it concerned her – but then why would it concern her? It was morning after all.

He frowned and considered how to ask delicately why she would know so much about Angel’s movements. From memory and conversations with Willow – admittedly a long time ago – the vampire could barely stay in the same room with her for an hour without going crazy.

“Not really since he was supposed to be sleeping with me” Cordy told him with some careful emphasis of her own. Giles was so caught up in his own thoughts he missed the ramifications of what she said – for the moment.

***

WESLEY

The other two demons were awake now and he’d had a few bad moments earlier when they’d realised they were; one – being held prisoner and two – sharing a cell with a human. For some reason that seemed offensive to them and he’d been forced to defend himself, luckily for him he’d managed to put them off the idea of trying any further attacks any time soon.

However, it did mean sleeping was dangerous and so totally out of the question. Also not helping was the fact that his head was hurting like hell, but at least the need to throw up had receded, leaving him feeling hungry, ”bloody typical”. Not that he expected to be fed or even if they did offer it – would consider eating anything they gave him.

After what felt like a lifetime of tedious waiting the crash of the bolts was heard again and all four inmates stiffened and waited to see what would happen next. As before the guard was carrying a flaming torch; expecting it this time, Wesley protected his vulnerable eyes to avoid the blindness of the sudden change in light from pitch black to illumination.

After a few moments to adjust, he was able to see that the guard wasn’t alone this time, there was another with him. Similar in appearance and yet not – it was difficult to tell as this one wore no mask. He was looking directly at Wesley though, “human, you will come with us now” it wasn’t a question but a demand.

“Where am I going” He asked the demon as he got to his feet with some difficulty, stiff from sitting still and silent on the damp dirty stone floor of the cell over a prolonged period of time, trying to stay alert for possible attacks.

“To visit a friend” the demon replied and gestured for Wesley to precede him. Not exactly unhappy to leave the dark dankness behind; Wesley did as he was told without further comment. As he crossed the cell door threshold he looked around him carefully but was disappointed to see nothing but more of the same on outside, nothing but rock walls, darkness and smoke.

There were numerous other doors identical to the one he’d just left which he assumed where more of the cave-like cells, Dreary didn’t begin to describe it, if he was here for too much longer he could see himself falling into depression he thought with wry amusement.

“I have quite a few questions, if you don’t mind answering them”? Wesley asked the mask-less demon as he was led away down the corridor at a brisk pace, going to heavens knows where; he was not expecting much but hoping for something to go on that might give him a means of escape.

“Your friend has the answers you seek Human, ask him” Wesley quirked a brow at the curt tone but said nothing else, what would be the use – apparently he was going to find out soon enough. Gradually the scenery changed – became worse if that was possible.

From the small ‘tour’ he’d had so far the complex was large and whoever had built it had used the natural caverns, caves and tunnels only with a lot more care being taken with the cell block with it’s regimented doorways and solid wooden doors. Here the doorways were mere holes with ragged leather curtains covering them. The floors were rock strewn with dirt and grit to make them less slippery was his guess, ”obviously not big on hygiene these lot”.

They arrived at what appeared to be the destination; like the others there was no door just a thick curtain which when pulled back by the husky guard, revealed the pacing and obviously agitated occupant; Angel.

“Wesley, if we get out of this alive I swear I’m gonna kill you”. As a convivial greeting between friends and comrades-in-arms go, this one sucked.

“It’s nice to see you too” replied Wesley as he ducked inside and faced the vampire. You couldn’t work with Cordelia Chase for any length of time and not learn the value of a sarcastic come back.

Angel looked back to the demon that’d met him in the antechamber and now escorted Wesley to him; “You can go now Piglet, we have things to discuss here”.

“As you wish and for the record Vampire, my name is Drachnar”, the demon replied with an attempt at dignity and clearly not understanding the insult on its looks. Wesley grinned and hid it by looking over the room and using that as an excuse to turn away.

“I’ll remember that for the next time I wanna clear my throat” replied Angel with a raised brow and crossing his arms in a “What – what did I say” type of gesture, as the demon – realising it was being taunted hissed in annoyance, then its black snake like eyes narrowed with sudden malice.

“Don’t take too long with your talk Vampire, you have been treated with respect due to your reputation, but things change rapidly around here and humans are always the first to suffer”, Drachnar came over to stand beside Wesley, dwarfing the human. “Remember that before you let your tongue run away with you again”.

With that Vampire and ex-watcher were left alone, Wesley looked at Angel; his blue gaze direct as he said “I realise this is my fault, but can we save that for later and just get to the escape part for now”.

Angel sat on the edge of a table and crossed his ankles, nonchalance in every line – except for the face, which suggested otherwise. “Easier said than done Wes, you’re on the menu and I’m on the entertainment list – not to mention the pesky fact of some kind of inter dimensional portal like nothing I’ve ever seen before”.

Wesley ignored the food part and concentrated on where he could do the most good, “Describe the portal to me”.

***

HYPERION HOTEL

“Angel sleeps with you” Repeated Giles his face frozen with shock before a smile cracked his face and he laughed, or more accurately chuckled manically at the ‘misunderstanding’.

“You mean he occasionally sleeps here – for a minute there I thought you were saying…”

“I was and we do – can we move on now? like I said, I have an emergency going on here”.

Giles choked and stuttered for a full minute before managing to stop and then meeting the glare he got from Cordelia – even without his glasses he would have winced; his shoulders slumped and in another revealing gesture removed the glasses yet again – only this time to rub his eyes in what was obviously an attempt to relieve sudden tension.

”So that’s why Buffy won’t discuss Angel or LA” , thought Giles, pity stirring in his heart, ”When am I ever going to learn not to interfere – I shouldn’t have come here, especially secretly” .

He sighed deeply and sat down on one of the chairs gingerly, saying “Yes indeed lets move on, why don’t you tell me why you think Angel is in danger”. He couldn’t just walk away now though, honour not to mention good manners forbade it.

Grateful at the offer given the blow she’d just given him, she outlined what she’d found when she’d woken this morning, but Giles didn’t seem convinced there was a problem. “It’s all very nebulous isn’t it – it could mean next to nothing, maybe he just got caught up in something or simply called away”.

“I don’t think so and that’s good enough for me” replied Cordy pacing to the middle of the lobby and turning to thrust an arm towards the glass doors and the sunlight that shone behind them, “Not to mention the whole ‘morning bright’ aspect of it”.

“Fair enough” replied Giles in a mixture of long suffering patience and resignation. “So what’s the next step, what would his movements have been, where might he have gone or seen”?

“Hey, Watcher guy, one question at a time here. Anyway I think the first stop has got to be the ‘belly of the beast’”.

“I beg your pardon; did you just say…” Giles looking at her in complete confusion, “What beast are you referring too”?

“I mean Wolfram & Hart, you know Evil-Law-Firm” she replied impatiently

“Why didn’t you just say so, it would make this so much easier if you could speak plain English, Cordelia”.

The reprimand in his voice made her eyes roll for moment before she caught it. ”Was Wesley ever this stuffy before they knocked it out of him”? She didn’t think so. “Did Buffy not tell you anything about what went on here”? She was genuinely curious.

But Giles angry at the implied criticism in her tone and rolling eyes, snapped at her “That’s none of your concern, Buffy is hurting Cordelia and unlike some she doesn’t yell to the world when she gets a paper cut”.

Cordelia said nothing and carefully kept her face expressionless – hiding the hurt of unexpectedly finding herself confronted with her past and how others had viewed her – before she’d come to LA and met up with Angel, to start the first Agency.

Giles shrugged and looked away, sighing deeply, “I apologise, Cordelia that was uncalled for – I really am just worried about Buffy”. He could hardly meet her eyes; there was something in those hazel depths – some kind of darkness or painful memory.

Whatever it was it made her look older than her years, as if she had seen too much and it shamed him, because he knew that look from Buffy’s eyes too; he realised then, too late to take it back, that he hardly knew this Cordelia Chase.

Cordelia walked away from him, going around the counter to reach her desk – she still used her old one mostly, feeling weird sitting in Angel’s old office. Looking over the counter that now separated them, she measured her words carefully, something that Giles would never have believed her capable of before.

“Look, Giles I’m not trying to be rude here and its not that I don’t sympathise – well OK maybe I don’t cos – Hello, not exactly in the loop on Buffy these days. Whatever, I don’t have time to get into this – I need to find out what has happened to the people I love like family, clear”?

Giles was smiling at her now, impressed despite himself at the obvious passion she felt, “Oh absolutely clear, can I help”?

“Sure”, Cordy waited a few beats watching his expression and checking his sincerity, which was clearly real; “Come on Giles, we need to go play dress-up”. Before he had a chance to ask for an explanation she’d grabbed him by the arm and dragged him upright, “Did you bring a suit or maybe a jacket to go with those pants”.

“Hmmm – erm well, let me see… I think I brought a jacket just in case, but” he stopped and stared at her, “Please unhand me and tell me why I need a jacket in this heat”.

“Whatever happened to the stuffy Librarian that always wore a jacket no matter how hot it was”? Complained Cordelia as she half dragged him over towards the stairs and his carpet bag.

“He got sick of sweating, now answer the question” replied Giles in that, oh so dry English way of his.

Cordelia bounded up the stairs to grab his bag, throwing the words over her shoulder, “We can’t just walk in the door and expect to find out what we want to know – even if Angel is ‘boss’ they’re still evil at the core”.

She handed a still confused Giles his bag, “It’s simple and I’ve done it loads of times before – we go disguised and find out what we want to know then we leave OK”?

Giles recovered from the idea of ‘going in disguise’ enough to point out, “But why do you need me, won’t they get more suspicious of a stranger” he asked Cordy’s rapidly disappearing back view.

“Duh – why do you think I need a disguise?, they’d get rid of me in a second if they could, that’s why I need you. You’re part of my props”.

***

WOLFRAM & HART BUILDING

Lorne was walking towards the bank of elevators in the lobby when he found himself staring in utter shocked surprise at one of the people inside the now closing door. “Cordelia”, he saw the woman – wearing a navy short skirted business suit, big glasses and a huge blond hairdo; raise a slim hand to her lips in a shushing gesture.

He raised his brows and looked thoughtful, Who in hell was the man with her and why were they sneaking around?. Deciding to investigate he watched to see which floor the elevator would stop at and saw it go past the last authorised floor, without stopping – they were headed for Angels apartment. That had him stumped since he didn’t have the code to access it, so that left Angels office as a good bet for the next stop.

“I still don’t understand why the disguises Cordelia – won’t they know you’re here anyway if they are so ‘all seeing’ as you say they are”? Asked Giles in an exasperated tone.

Cordy refrained from mentioning Lorne, trusting the green demon to keep quiet; “What – you think they might have a Cordy/Librarian alarm – I don’t think so and don’t say my name, they have ‘all hearing ears’ as well”, she hissed at him and then carried on in her best cajoling speech, “Have you never heard ‘he who dares wins’? -get a grip Giles”.

“Harrrmphh” snorted Giles more than a little peeved, “Why the blonde wig, it’s bloody distracting and a bit obvious isn’t it”?

“Do you think so?” Asked Cordelia sweetly, “I thought you’d appreciate the familiarity of the dumb blonde look”. Giles gave her a filthy look but said nothing else, waiting for the elevator to deposit them at their destination.

***

ANGEL & WESLEY

“Where the hell are we, do you know”? Asked Angel; going to the curtain to check for eavesdroppers, before turning back and giving Wesley a questioning look.

“Other than a hell – or so I’m told, no idea I’m afraid” answered Wesley in a no nonsense tone, wincing internally though at having got them caught in yet another unknown demon dimension. I’m getting as bad as Cordelia

“Yeah well you got that right; you should see what I did when I got here. Humans cut up like cattle and hanging from the ceiling waiting to be eaten”.

“Hmm nasty – not exactly encouraging either” replied Wesley, not that he wasn’t disgusted but sometimes a hard edge was necessary to survive, this was one of those times. “What was it you were saying about ‘entertainment’ – you have you’re clown suit with you”?

Angel frowned darkly at the humour, but was oddly relaxed by it too, typical Wes. “Ha Ha, very funny – how about you wear one and kill ‘em with your rapier wit” he replied sardonically. He resumed his earlier position with a hip cocked on the ‘rooms’ only piece of furniture. “Remember a while ago, those two brothers running a demon fighting ring”?

“You’ve got to be kidding me” said Wesley, catching on immediately, “not again”.

“Tell me about it” sighed Angel and scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to clear the smoke and grit from his suddenly tired eyes.

“Times up my friends, it’s time to prepare yourselves” announced Drachnar from the doorway, pulling back the curtain and smiling grimly at them.

“Prepare ourselves for what”? Wesley asked, envisioning a big cooking pot. Angel didn’t look at him though, just stared at the demon in the doorway with a hardened expression all tiredness forgotten as renewed adrenaline poured through him, taut silence filled the room.

“That’s a good question so why don’t you answer the man, Drachnar”? His reaction to the question would depend on what the answer was.

“You both go into the pit to fight together” replied the demon genially but there was a glint in those obsidian eyes that showed another feeling altogether. “It should be amusing to watch you defend yourself and your friend at the same time – if you want to that is”

“Oh I don’t know; he’s pretty nifty at defending himself” replied Angel with a small smile, which was true but he had a horrible feeling that things would be different here. For one thing, there was the ‘trapped like rats in cage’ part of the deal to consider.

“Not here he won’t, no one survives the pit and certainly not a mere human” replied the demon with certainty.

“We’ll see” snarled Angel, clenching his jaw and forcibly stopping the demon that wanted out; not YET! He hated to give this bastard something to gloat over and vamping out would give away a lot about his state of mind.

He glared at it with dark eyes narrowed to slits of unadulterated menace, “Will you be joining us”? To any one else it would sound like he was inviting the demon to tea party or something, the tone was so polite. Drachnar stared back at him, and smiled; a tiny acknowledgement of the battle Angel had fought within himself.

“Not this time I’m afraid but in the highly unlikely event of you surviving the first bout, maybe” replied Drachnar, confidence oozed out of the big demon and his eyes gleamed manically at the thought of the blood that would be shed.

“That’s a good enough reason to survive all by itself” replied Angel quietly and concisely; even if he never saw another day – this bastard was going to die.

Wesley simply stood back and watched the by-play between the demon and the vampire with interest, so they were to fight for their lives – what else was new. He refused to let himself dwell on the possibilities – what good would fretting do, at least he wasn’t pot roast.

***

THE PIT

The pit was a dirty stinking hole in the ground, lined with stones and at least twenty feet deep. Angel knew he could jump it easily but not while holding onto Wesley – at least he didn’t think so, but he’d keep it as a last option if nothing else.

Crowds of demons, most of them masked sat in stone tiered benches surrounding the ring and what a crowd they were, dirty, coarse and if he was any judge – high on the thrill of the coming violence. They where all inside yet another large cavernous cave, dark and damp and lit with the usual torches; including high up inside the pit itself.

Don’t want the audience to miss the fun now do we, like hell, but it didn’t look like he had a choice, again; at least this time he would be perfectly willing to kill his opponents.

On the right side was a platform of some kind, made from wood with three huge chairs built into it – for the local dignitaries thought Wesley, too exalted for the cold stone like the rest.

All of sudden there was a commotion and both tensed at the wild clapping and stamping of feet; “Looks like the funs about to start” Said Angel keeping his eyes trained on the rim of the pit, trying to gauge from where the threat would appear.

“Looks like” agreed Wesley also keeping a careful watch; they stood back to back waiting for whatever was going to happen next, tense and primed for the violence to commence. Both of them tall and dark-haired, covered in grime and dirt – the vampire was much bigger and heavier and yet – somehow, both seemed the same as they faced the danger together.

What looked like some kind of mini procession walked around the pit, seven unmasked demons, all the same with their flat noses, slittish lips and black eyes, ringed by ridged brows and spiky tines. Three of the group sat down in the wooden chairs and gestured to the other four – heavily armed demons.

“They’re armed and were not – hardly fair” intoned Wesley to Angel who looked around to him and nodded briefly in agreement. Just then all four demons jumped into the pit with them; landing on legs like the trunks of young trees. They steadied themselves almost the instant they landed and then tossed the weapons between themselves and Angel and Wesley.

Then bending at their thick waists and clenching meaty fists they roared at the pair. Simultaneously both Angel and Wesley raised a brow and then looked at one another, “I’ll let you growl back – you’re so much better at it than I” Wesley told the vampire ironically.

The crowd went wild again, obviously more impressed than they were and clapping and stamping their feet. Strange to hear when they had no voice for the most part and the remaining three up there without the masks, remained stoic throughout the display.

“Gee thanks, I’ll pass” replied Angel gathering himself to launch at the weapons, all six combatants exploded into action in the same instant almost as if a gun had gone off.

Angel reached a sword at the same time as one of the demons and quicker on his feet, booted it on the face and snatched up the long weapon he was the most comfortable with. Wesley knowing he would need something heavier went for an axe with a long wooden handle and wickedly curved polished blade.

Both successfully armed they faced of the demons again, back to back as before. Watching intently the circling demons, two armed as they were, the difference being instead of an axe, one held a three pronged spear. Wesley winced when he saw it, for some reason it gave him a chill and he wished to hell that had been the closer one to him, instead of the axe.

Angel and the other sword wielder clashed with flashing blades and rings of steel, while Wesley blocked the darting spear with the axe. Angel parried the sword of his opponent and after a few minutes was forced to the conclusion that Drachnar had not been bragging about their skills, he was keeping up – just.

Worried now, he risked a quick glance at Wesley to see how he was faring and saw he was struggling against the longer reach of the spear. ”Dammit, I need to finish this one now, or Wesley’s a pin cushion”.

His gaze snapped back to the demon he was fighting, seeing the other two circling them, waiting for an opportunity to strike but patient and not risking injury unless a guard was dropped. Sneaky, but in-experienced, if he was them he would attack as a team, lucky for him they weren’t trained in teamwork.

He picked up the pace – hacking and slashing at both head and torso and then using both hands to grip the hilt, he drew back one elbow and shoulder so that the sword was poised to strike and backed away, waiting for an opportunity of his own. The demon followed him, wary but excited at the prospect that Angel was finally retreating, perhaps even tiring. ”In your dreams”, that was it he was close enough – he lunged straight towards the demons unprotected neck; the demon saw it and brought up his own sword but was too close to parry, so it blocked with the blade flat out and angled down.

”Just what he wanted”, Quicker than the eye could see Angel changed the angle and depth of the sword with a flick of his left wrist and by releasing the grip of his right hand; stepping back so that he stood sideways to it and confusing the demon with the move. The sword slipped past the protectively held blade and sank into its chest, just below where the breast bone would be on a human.

Angel immediately pulled the bloodied sword free and even as it sank to the floor, raised it again in his right hand now and swiftly decapitated it. The head came clean off, ”good sword” and rolled to rest by the stone wall of the pit.

Wesley meanwhile was tiring fast, like Angel he too had noticed the scavengers waiting for him to fall and was bloody well determined not too, if he could help it. The axe felt like a lead weight by now, but so far he’d managed to avoid the prongs. He dodged the next lunge and was struck by a surge of rage, renewed energy ran through his veins and his blood pumped hard through his body.

He kicked the spear to the side and trapped it with the axe by the curved head of the prongs, lashing out with his other foot, he connected with a thud on that meaty face, it staggered only a little before righting itself, ”Fat prick”.

Before it could yank the spear free, Wesley slammed the axe in an upward swing, meeting the demons neck and cutting through skin and bone. That’s more like it. But despite the win he knew he was not likely to survive this and watched almost with detachment as the spear was taken up by one of the other, fresher demons.

The burst of adrenaline was fading and feeling a little like a drunk he swung his heavy, aching head around to see Angel in the middle of a fight with the last of the other two, Two kills to the vampire, no doubt, he smiled grimly and heaved himself straight, meeting the charge of his latest and likely last challenger.

As far as Angel could tell, these guys must be trained by the same swordsmen – were none of them frickin’ easy to kill? He’d miscalculated in leaving the axe for Wes, not thinking about the weight of it during a long fight, he chanced another glance and winced, nearly getting his arm sliced through in the process.

Giving his attention back to the fight, he vamped out and snarled, baring his fangs and then charged the momentarily disconcerted demon. He hacked at the blade that was still raised in a huge fist, knocking it aside with his own but not stopping or reducing speed, until he head butted it on the face; he felt the sting of the tines on his ridged forehead but used the pain to fuel his demonic hunger for more.

The force of the unexpected blow drove it back despite it’s size and bulk, the sword fell back and to one side and Angel kicked it out of it’s hand and then raised his own; the blade stabbing down into it’s gut. Then he dropped to a crouch and twisted his wrist up, turning and driving the impaling blade upwards while still inside, slicing through intestine like butter.

Without waiting to watch the final death throes he whirled around to see to Wesley, his topaz eyes widened when he saw the man he thought of as a friend was on his knees, the axe barely still held up and both arms dripping with blood, even his face was spattered with it and more oozed out of a gash on his neck. The demon stood back with and with a horrible grimacing grin swung the spear from side to side, gathering speed to swipe it over the now defenceless human. The sharp prongs would rip through everything in its path if it caught him, killing him.

Without really thinking Angel launched himself; hoping against hope to get between the man and demon in time. Wesley saw out of the corner of his eye, the dark shadow that was Angel, streaking towards them and in a split second of clarity he knew what would happen, “Nooo, don’t be a fool” He tried to yell it to be heard over the noise of the wild and crazed crowd.

His voice was hoarse and that only made what happened next even more surreal, he watched in horror as, almost in slow motion, Angel came between him and the spear, his black clad body met the ripping prongs and he jerked in mid-air as if stung. He landed with a thud on the dirt floor, lying on his side with one hand thrown towards Wesley.

Wesley watched the hand willing it to move, looking for signs of life and then saw a dark patch of liquid, spread to touch the still fingers from underneath Angel’s side. The demon threw back its head and roared, raising its arms in victory to incite the crowd into a bigger frenzy.

Wesley glared at it with bloodshot eyes, face pale and streaked with his own blood; he struggled up and grasping the hilt from underneath Angel’s prone body, dragged and hefted it up. The demon sensed the movement and turned to face him; Wesley stabbed the sword up through its chin and smiled in intense savage satisfaction as he saw the blood pour from both mouth and nose.

The crowd went quiet and Wesley staggered and fell back to his knees, then to the floor on his side – the two figures making a figure ‘T’ on the dirty, blood drenched floor of the pit.

Part 4

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