Part 6
In a dark corner of the Hyperion Hotel’s lobby, a shadow lurked. It was ethereal, less even than the faintest mist, its presence seemingly undetected by the occupants of the hotel. He hovered, watching, his excitement growing as the people he observed went about their lives.
The little scene Sebastian had just witnessed had been by far the most precious, the most entertaining. The look of pain on Angelus’ face had had Sebastian, in his misty form, rubbing his non-corporeal hands together in glee. Everything was falling into a perfect pattern, almost as if he’d orchestrated it himself.
As his lovely young prey dragged the beefy new young man out the door, Sebastian let himself sigh with satisfaction. This young warrior was no threat. No real threat, anyway. Not like Angelus.
His satisfaction was short-lived as he remembered the menace the younger vampire had been over the past week. Angelus had been within hearing or seeing distance of Cordelia practically every hour of that time. And when she’d been alone, at night, in her apartment, her resident ghost had prevented any breach of her threshold. Sebastian had had quite a nasty run-in with the young ghost. Even now, he squirmed at the memory. That route had definitely proven to be more trouble than it was worth.
No, his best course was to wait patiently until Cordelia was separated from Angel for a period long enough for Sebastian to make his move. None of them knew that he’d survived Angelus’ assassination attempt, so no one was even looking out for him.
Soon, he would strike. Cordelia would feel secure in the arms of her simple-minded young man. Angel would believe her safe, if not happy, at the young man’s side. It was obvious that the new man was a warrior, adept at protecting Cordelia from simpler demons. But he was no match for Sebastian.
Sebastian needed just a little more time for them to get comfortable, for Cordelia and Angel’s estrangement to be at its most painful. He needed to wait for Cordelia’s vulnerability to peak. It would happen soon, in a matter of days, no doubt.
Soon, Angelus would finally pay the ultimate price for destroying his lovely Brianna. Then Cordelia would be his. Forever.
***
“It’s strange,” Angel said, staring down into Connor’s crib absentmindedly.
Lorne walked up next to him. “Hmmm?” he said, looking down at the baby as well.
“I remember him being taller.” Angel said.
“It’s a trick of the light,” Lorne answered. “They don’t actually get taller until they’re very, very old.”
Angel frowned. That wasn’t exactly what he’d meant. “I didn’t mean the baby.”
“I know you didn’t,” Lorne said quickly.
“I meant the Groosalugg.”
“I know you did.”
Silence reigned for a moment as Angel tried to tamp down the rage inside him. Right now, at this very second, Cordelia was dragging that big beefy lump of brainlessness off to her apartment. To her bed, probably. His demon was not a happy camper. Being here in the soothing presence of his son was the only thing keeping him from running downstairs and dragging her, caveman style, back to his side.
He also realized that it was important to maintain appearances for Lorne. Wouldn’t do for the anagogic demon to want to read him, or anything. One angry glitter from Angel’s aura would send Lorne into a nervous tailspin, and that wasn’t at all what he had in mind. Lorne might want to play matchmaker, but Angel knew he wanted it to happen naturally. He wouldn’t like Angel’s plans. And he’d tell Wesley, and that would be really, really bad. Low-key was definitely the order of the day.
“Did he seem, uh, I don’t know, short?” Angel said casually.
“Oh, absolutely,” Lorne reassured him. “Clearly the guy shrank. All over, probably,” he added, helping Angel off with his coat. “Why, he’s nothing but a muscley midget. I’m sure once Cordelia gets him home, she’ll pop him in a smallish drawer and that’ll be that.”
Angel bristled as Lorne confirmed his worst fears. “She took him home,” he said bitterly. “Well. That’s good. At least we won’t have to put him up here. The place was starting to turn into a hotel.”
His sarcasm seemed to be lost on Lorne.
“So you don’t have a problem with that then.” It was a statement, not a question.
A problem with that? Yeah, his demon scoffed sarcastically inside his head. No problems here. So few problems that I’m going to rip that cow-eyed Ken doll’s arms off and beat him with them! Patiently, Angel soothed his demon with a promise of retribution later. Groo wouldn’t win. Angel felt confident of that. And as much as it bothered him right now to let Cordelia take him home, he knew she wouldn’t go that far with him. Not yet.
At least he hoped she wouldn’t.
“Of course not,” he said in answer to Lorne’s question. “Why would I?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Lorne said, sniffing Angel’s tuxedo jacket. “Maybe because I don’t remember you wearing this perfume when you left this evening.”
Damned nosy demon, Angelus groused. Lorne was always too observant for his own good.
“Okay, there may have been some magic,” Angel answered.
“There, you see?” Lorne said.
“Actual magic, Lorne,” Angel said. “Whatever happened was a spell. It’s worn off now. There’s nothing between Cordelia and me.” At least nothing he was willing to let Lorne know about yet. Not until he’d finished his claim on Cordy. Thank god no one had noticed the fresh bite marks on her tonight.
“Sure there is,” Lorne said. “And it’s got arms like steel cables and a deeply ironic sense of timing.”
Angel turned away and tried to figure out a way to get Lorne off his back. If he wanted no interference on this, Lorne had to be completely clueless.
“No, it’s good that the Groosalugg showed up when he did,” he said, Angelus growling in his mind as he spun the lie. “You were right. Cordelia deserves a champion, and now she’s got one.”
“Well, what about you?” Lorne asked.
“I’m fine,” Angel said, hanging up his jacket. “I’ve been a solo act most of my 240 plus years and when I wasn’t, it never turned out well. I like being alone.”
“Fine, Miss Garbo,” Lorne said patronizingly. “Have it your way. Be alone.”
Finally, Angel sighed, closing the closet door as Lorne walked away. Free at last. Free to set his plan in motion.
Free to get Cordelia back.
He stopped abruptly, and turned back toward the closet. Opening the door, he brought out his jacket again, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling deeply. His senses were assaulted with the scent of Cordelia, and it strengthened his resolve.
Cordelia was his, and no one was going to stand in the way of his claim on her.
***
Cordelia opened the door to her closet, trying to find the hanger for her expensive ballet dress. Groo was waiting patiently out in the living room, the gentlemen that he was, so she tried to find something to talk about to keep him occupied.
“So, um, you got deposed, huh?” She started taking off her dress.
“Yes,” he said.
“That sucks,” she answered, frowning.
“The people turned against me,” he said, pacing her living room.
“Yeah, well, they’ll do that,” she called from the bedroom, removing the last of her elegant eveningwear and finding a comfy pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
Groo was explaining the evolution of his downfall. “Endless committees were formed. Committees splintered into factions. The factions into coalitions. The coalitions turned into subcommittees, until finally the more radical elements, spurred by a charismatic leader, did the dance of revolution.”
By that point, she was walking out into the living room. She looked at him, leaning against a pillar, and pondered the mess that was her life. Tonight, she’d been possessed, bitten, and loved until every cell in her body sang, all by her vampire best friend. And here she was, planning to get it on with another man. She tamped down the squickiness of her abrupt turnabout and forced herself to feel pleasure at Groo’s presence. Groo loved her. That had to count for something.
She put on a soft smile for him. “And here you are.”
“Yes,” he answered, smiling back at her.
“So…you don’t miss it?” she asked, looking at him questioningly. Maybe if he didn’t want to be here, she wouldn’t feel so guilty about using him like this.
He looked at her, a question in his blue eyes, and she explained. “You know, the power, the castle, the concubines, and the royal chippies.”
The naked worship in his eyes drew her to him like a magnet. God, there was something so sexy about a man who was so in love with her. The way he worshiped her with his eyes. Almost like Angel had done tonight when—
Oh, god, not going there! Get your mind back to the here and now, Cor! she yelled at herself silently. Not going to think about Angel. Not going to think about Angel! I’m not. I’m not!!
“There was never anyone else,” Groo reassured her, unaware of the tug-of-war going on in her brain.
“Oh.” Well, at least she wouldn’t have to deal with any blonde bimbos in his past.
“I welcomed the overthrow. The tedium of government was too much to bear after life on the battlefield.” He drew closer, looking down into her face, the longing in it clearly displayed for her.
In that moment, she wanted to love him. She wanted to give him what he needed. She needed to give him that. It was the only course of action that made sense. So she offered him the opening that he’d been looking for.
“But your heart wasn’t really in it.”
He smiled briefly at her. “No. That left when you did.”
She stared up into his eyes and came to a crossroads. It would be so easy to reach up, cup his face in her hands, and tell him gently that while she cared for him, she didn’t love him and would never love him. He would smile sadly but he would understand. Then she could turn tail and run right back into Angel’s arms and pick up where they’d left off tonight.
She could, but she wouldn’t. Doing so would mean admitting something to herself that was too painful. It would mean admitting that she was in love with her best friend, and she just couldn’t do that.
So, in the heat of the moment, Cordelia took the easy way out. She took the wide, well-travelled path and reached up for Groo’s face, cupping his jaw in her hand, and drawing his mouth down to hers. He took over the kiss, gently possessing her, trailing his tongue inside of her mouth, in a kiss that was so, so sweet. It was pure, and good, and almost innocent.
But that was all it was.
There was no fire, no passion, no desperation. There was nothing in it that made her cry with undisguised need. There was nothing in it that made her feel like she’d die if he didn’t touch her, didn’t hold her closer, didn’t come inside her.
It felt like goodbye, rather than hello.
She pulled away reluctantly, filled with frustration at the lack of fire. Opening her eyes, she looked up at him, only to gasp and stagger away from him, her mouth open in shock.
Groo was no longer standing in front of her. Instead, she was faced with strong, aristocratically cold features, and a piercing blue gaze. His mouth turned up into a cruel smile, his hand reaching out for her.
“Sebastian!” she breathed, her eyes wide. He closed the distance between them, her panic growing as she realized her feet were planted to the ground in her paralyzing fear.
Just as his cold fingers encircled her upper arm, she found her voice, a bloodcurdling scream that echoed out the opened window and reverberated against the stillness of the night.
Part 7
Cordelia felt as though she’d swallowed ten gallons of water and was unable to throw it back up. She was completely panicked, every sense, every emotion, stalled and sputtering. Her lungs burned from lack of oxygen and her eyes and throat were dry. All she could do was stare at the evil, cold face of her enemy. Sebastian’s blue eyes seemed to burn into her soul like lasers, turning her into ash.
He opened his mouth, and she swallowed, jerking back another step.
“Princess?”
Air rushed into her lungs again and she gasped, swaying, as she heard Groo’s troubled voice coming from Sebastian’s well-shaped mouth.
“Groo?” she asked, breathless. She blinked rapidly in succession, and on the third blink, Sebastian was gone, Groo standing in his place, looking puzzled and concerned.
He closed the distance between them and raised a hand to her shoulder. “What troubles you, Princess? Were my kisses not satisfying to you?”
She was taken aback by his question. Funny how that had been her biggest concern about two minutes ago, and now it was all she could do to keep her heart from beating right out of her chest.
“I—” she closed her mouth abruptly, frowned, and huffed. “You were—then he was—and I was—” She stopped abruptly, a fierce frown wrinkling her brow.
Damn it, one little vision was turning her into Rain Man.
“Princess, you are not well,” Groo said, putting his remaining hand on her other shoulder, then pulling her against his chest and wrapping his strong arms around her. He brought a palm up to stroke her hair, and she sighed into his chest.
“Will you tell me what has made your smile go away? What I have done to cause you such distress?”
She closed her eyes and let the steady rhythm of his heart calm her ruffled nerves. After a brief moment, she pulled back, looking up into his face.
“You didn’t do anything, Groo. I had a vision.”
“A vision?” he looked perplexed. “But are they not painful?”
“They used to be,” she said honestly. “But then there was this demon, Skip, who came and—” She stopped when she saw the confusion in his expression grow. She was fond of him, that much was not in question, but sometimes it irritated her that he couldn’t hold on to a complex sentence if his life depended on it.
“Never mind,” she said, sighing. “I didn’t want to lose the visions. Trust me in that total badness would’ve happened if I’d lost them. But to keep them from killing me, I had to become part demon.”
He frowned. “Part demon? But you are pure. The one chosen to be blessed with the visions. ”
“No, Groo,” she said, exasperated. “I didn’t get the visions because I was ‘chosen’. It was a fluke.”
“What is a fluke?” He said the word with the hint of a Norwegian accent, heavy on the “u.”
“An accident,” she explained, trying to be patient. “Doyle, a half-demon, was Angel’s first seer. He died saving the helpless, and just before he did, he passed the visions on to me. He had to give them to someone, and I was the closest one. But humans can’t survive the visions, so I had to be made half demon.”
“But your purity,” he said, and Cordelia caught the unhappy bent to his tone.
“Oh, purity schmurity,” she said lightly, waving her hand breezily. “Get over it, Groo! I’m half demon now. There’s no going back on that. And right now, other things are more important. Like this vision, for one.”
Groo frowned, tamping down his self-righteous feelings to help Cordelia. He knew that he should leave, immediately, but he still had feelings for this woman, despite her unworthiness.
“What was in your vision, Princess?” he asked resignedly.
She forged on, relieved that she’d safely detoured the purity parade. “Awhile back, there was a master vampire who bit me, tried to claim me. He’s messing with Angel’s head. But Angel dusted him. I’m sure of it. Why would the PTB’s send me this vision unless—”
“—he isn’t really dead.” Groo said, finishing her sentence for her.
Her eyes widened. “Oh, god. That’s bad, bad news. A vampire who can’t be staked? How the hell are we supposed to kill him? And this guy is totally psycho. He wants to make Angel suffer by claiming me as his own, stealing me away from Angel.”
“This vampire, he believes that you belong to Angel,” Groo said.
“Well, yeah, he does. But he’s got it all wrong. I mean, I guess I belong to Angel, like family, sorta, but I don’t belong belong. You know?”
Groo frowned, remembering how attached she was to the vampire. It was true that Angel was a champion in his own right, but he was not worthy of his Princess. Now, though, now that Groo couldn’t have her, maybe—
But, no. Despite her impurity, he still burned for her. Ached for her. She was his Princess, after all. And he needed to help her in whatever way he could.
“We must go to him,” he said, taking her arm and heading for the door.
“Sebastian?” she gasped. “You can’t fight him! He’s too dangerous. He’ll kill you! He—”
“Princess,” he said, his tone soothing. “I meant Angel. We must go to him and tell him of your vision. The vampire’s wrath is turned on him, yes?”
“Yes,” she agreed, sighing. “We have to tell Angel. Sebastian is going to come after us.”
Groo stopped, seeing the fear reflected in the deep hazel of her eyes as she continued. “He’s going to come after me.”
***
Angel, his coat billowing purposefully behind him, stormed down the stairs into the lobby. Striding over to the weapons cabinet, he yanked the doors open and began to arm himself, sticking two stakes up his sleeves, fastening his favorite broadsword to his waist, and grabbing a crossbow and a quiver full of arrows to sling on his shouders.
What little conversation there’d been when he’d descended had dried up quickly, all eyes turning curiously to the dark vampire.
Finally, when he was armed to the teeth, he turned, resolutely meeting Wesley’s eyes.
“I’m going out,” he said resolutely.
“I can see that,” Wesley said, dryly.
“You need back-up, Angel?” Gunn offered, cradling Fred’s hand in his own, reluctant to leave her but knowing that he might not have a choice.
“No,” Angel answered tersely. “Cordelia’s in trouble, and I need to go alone.”
They gaped at him, Wesley finding his voice first. “What? How do you know?”
“it’s the connection,” Lorne offered, coming in from the kitchen with a stiff drink in his hand. “The claim. He bit her tonight, you know,” he said conversationally.
“You claimed Cordelia?” Wesley stammered, stunned.
“Not exactly,” Angel said, frowning. “It was those damned spirits that possessed us. Kinda brought out the worst in me. Sebastian’s marks were too much of a temptation and I—” He stopped.
Turning abruptly, he strode toward the door. “I don’t have time for this. Cordy needs me. She’s worried, upset. She needs help. I can feel it.”
“Does it really work that way?” Fred asked in a stage whisper to Lorne.
He didn’t have time to answer because just as Angel reached the door, Cordelia and Groo came bursting through it, out of breath and wide-eyed.
“Angel!” Cordelia gasped. “Sebastian! He’s not dead!”
Everyone gaped at her as she ran straight to Angel, then stopped abruptly just before she touched him. Every fiber of her being ached to jump into his arms, but her pride was holding her back. She needed him, really badly right now, but the thought of what they’d done together tonight had her ashamed. Ashamed and scared. Scared that Angel would shove her away and pretend like nothing had happened, when her whole world felt like it had been turned upside down.
Her fears were short-lived as Angel dropped the weapons he was holding and reached out, gathering her into his arms and cradling her to his chest. He kissed the top of her head, rubbing her back gently. “It’s okay, Cor, I won’t let him get to you.”
Angel’s mind was racing. Somehow, her news hadn’t been a surprise. It had just made sense. It was as if he’d already known about it, just not consciously. The bond between them must be stronger than he’d thought. Even now, it was hard for him to keep from burying his mouth in her neck and tasting her, finishing his claim and his bond to her. He steeled himself, and focused on comforting her.
Across the room, the rest of the staff watched as the vampire and seer comforted each other. Wesley looked apprehensive, and Gunn and Lorne were grinning as they witnessed the obvious bond between them. Fred felt happy, too, until she noticed the forlorn look on Groo’s face as he watched his Princess being comforted by another man.
“I know you won’t let him hurt me,” Cordelia said, sniffling. “But he’s so determined. I could feel it. He’s so evil, Angel,” she said, pulling back, her teary eyes searching his. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to stop him. We can’t even stake him.”
“We will.” Angel’s voice was determined.
“You had a vision, Cordelia?” Wesley’s voice broke into the haze surrounding Angel and Cordelia.
She nodded. “As usual, the PTB were high on the visual, low on the important details. I got nothing except his face in front of me, his hands reaching out for me, and a totally wiggy sense of the ultimate evil. It gave me the heeby jeebies.”
Angel rubbed her upper arms as she shivered again. “You didn’t get any more details?” he asked, disappointed.
“No,” she said, disgusted. “Of course, when my life is at stake, they have to go big with the cryptic. Geez, don’t I get an employee privilege, or something? I have no idea when he’ll strike, just that he will. He’s alive, Angel, and that’s what’s so scary. You tried to kill him once already.”
Angel looked deeply, meaningfully into her eyes, and peace stole over her. It was funny how she could feel him, feel his determination, his concern, and most of all, his love for her. It was that last one that both floored her and gave her peace. She didn’t have time to contemplate it, though.
Whirling around to face his crack staff, Angel began to fire off orders.
“Wesley, look in your books and see if there’s any way we can kill a vampire who can’t be staked, a vampire who has the magicks to defeat regular tactics. Find some way to neutralize his power or to trap him. I don’t want him coming back again.”
Wesley nodded. “Of course. I’ll get right on it.” Immediately, he disappeared into his office.
“Fred,” Angel addressed her, “You help Wesley. Work on the trapping end of it. Try to figure out a way to contain an incorporeal vampire.”
“You got it, Angel,” she said, jumping from her perch beside Gunn on the counter and disappearing into the office with Wesley.
“Gunn, go canvass Sebastian’s mansion. Look for any signs of activity. Look through the windows to see if there are any objects that look mystical, look like they could be connected to his power.”
“You got it. I’m flyin’ solo?” he asked.
Angel turned to Groo. “Would you go with him?” he asked reluctantly. He didn’t want Groo’s help at all, but the man was a decent fighter. “If something happens, I don’t want Gunn to fight alone.”
With a longing glance at Cordelia, Groo sighed and nodded. “Of course, Angel. I will do anything to help the Princess.”
“Thanks, Groo,” Cordy said, her eyes tired but thankful as she half-smiled at him. He looked searchingly into her eyes for a long moment, then turned back to follow Gunn out of the room.
Cordy watched as he disappeared, feeling only relief at Groo’s departure. She didn’t belong with him, despite his love for her. She didn’t know where she belonged, but it wasn’t with him.
Finally, she turned back to Angel, who stood staring at her.
“What now, big guy?” she asked, a small smile turning up the corners of her mouth.
“Now,” he said, walking over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “We finish what we started.”
“Finish what?” she asked, puzzled.
“This,” he said, then grabbed her, covering her lips with his own.
Part 8