Part 4
“I still say the vamp is trippin’-I mean look at the evidence man, he walked in there like nothing had changed.” His eyes remaining glued to Wesley, Gunn walked from the kitchen reaching out the glass clutched in his hand.
Cordelia stretched up and snatched the offered drink, pretending she had missed Wesley’s disapproving glance. Fatherly she didn’t need right now. Right now she needed alcohol and courage, and planned on satisfying both. Well maybe one more than the other, she reconsidered after taking a big gulp that made her eyes roll back.
“Even so, I think we have to consider Angel’s physical contribution. It would allow Cordelia the option of participating when we fight.” Wesley responded stroking his chin. An act Cordelia had witnessed a hundred times over, but found it suddenly irritated the hell out of her.
And what will I do with all that free time; practice manicures in the dark while huddled in the closet? Damn, where are the good ole days when all I had to worry about were sleazy casting directors and making the rent on a roach-infested apartment? “I think…I might agree with Wesley…maybe.”
“As long as you’re sure Barbie. Don’t jump to a decision.”
“Bite me Gunn, and this Long Island Tea is good; you might have missed your calling… maybe.” Cordelia added after a well timed pause, and flashing Gunn a wily grin.
“I believe Cordelia may be approaching the situation more realistically.”
“About me being a bartender?”
“No Charles, focus.” Wesley pinched the bridge of his nose, shifting his stance so both friends could witness evidence of his impending breakdown.
“Yea Charles, focus before dad puts you in time-out.”
“Half a drink and you’re sloshed girl.”
“That’s me, one drink Cordy.” No need to mention the two rum and cokes I had before they got here. “Every man’s dre…never mind.”
“So we’re agreed, a trial period to see if the arrangement will work.”
“No man, we ain’t agreed on anything.”
“Well you better decide quick cause I’m in no shape to be swinging deadly objects if a vision should…CRAP!” The ice clinked against the sides of the glass, her body shaking uncontrollably as the vision hit.
“Cordelia, a vision?” “Barbie, you OK?” The two men frantically questioned as they took the drink from her hand and helped her stretch out on the couch.
“Yes…and no,” Cordelia answered when speaking without drooling became possible. “That old factory near Gunn’s hangout. I don’t know what they are, but it’s happening now.”
“I’m calling Angel.” Wesley announced as he covered Cordelia with a blanket, quickly tagging on, “I’ll simply tell him of the vision, it’s his choice whether he accompanies us,” when Gunn cast him a disgruntled glare.
“Fine, just don’t expect me to roll out the welcome mat.”
“Wouldn’t consider it.”
***
Angel leaned against the brick wall, lost in thought until the shrill broke through shattering the rare moment of peaceful meditation. Eyes squeezed shut, he slipped the intrusive mechanism from his coat pocket.
The uncomfortable clearing of a throat grunted into his ear, a clear indication of his caller. “Angel? It’s Wesley; are you there?”
“Wes,” husked into the phone. Vocal chords crusty from lack of use, Angel’s voice was gruff, the name sounding harsh in its delivery. Why talk when no one was there to listen? His short sessions with Lorne required little verbalization on his part, the anagogic demon nervously monopolizing the conversations, afraid of truths waiting to be revealed.
“Uh yes…Cordelia had a vision; demons breaking into a warehouse and attacking the occupants. Cordelia thinks it may be the old factory at Elden and Tenth. We’re headed there now, Gunn’s worried his people might already be there.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
“Very good then,” and with a click the line was silent.
His attention drifted up to the welcoming dark of the balcony, the dim glow from the small bathroom window conjuring images of a hot soak surrounded by flickering candles. Angel considered the lapse of minutes since Wesley’s call and leaped onto the platform, not even the air disturbed as he crouched down in his usual spot.
Swift elimination of the demon threat would aide his cause, but he couldn’t risk a violent display if raw emotions broke through. Unsure of his control, he had stayed away; but tonight, waning control had shifted direction and Angel needed to soothe the rising ache. Hunger needed to be appeased, as much as allowed; then he would face the demons, and old friends on the battlefield.
***
Wesley hadn’t called, which meant Angel had agreed and Cordelia’s inebriated brain wouldn’t have to remember basic fighting maneuvers. More important, Angel’s whereabouts were not a source of concern…at least for a little while.
Cordelia sank into the creamy bath, her small mass sloshing the hot water and suds until completely submerged inside the velvety cocoon.
“This socializing thing is brutal. I mean, I was young once. I used to go to bars. It wasn’t anything like this.”
“It’s got to keep trying to make a connection. Because that’s what lonely people do.”
The bottom of the tub, warmed by the scalding water, felt slick against her bare bottom; and lifting the half empty glass to her lips, Cordelia slipped further into the therapeutic mixture.
“I scared her. Am I intimidating? Do I put people off?”
“It’s still in me, Cordelia. And sometimes they change back. If the day ever comes that I…”
“Oh, I’ll kill you dead.”
“Yea right, I just sent my friends out to play with a homicidal monster so I could soak in a hot tub without worrying where said homicidal monster might be lurking.” Cordelia mumbled as her eyes fluttered shut; a distant warning hummed inside her head, something about sedatives and alcohol making an unhealthy potion.
***
“So, what’s the plan?” Angel asked joining Wesley and Gunn with a leap onto the loading dock, grateful dead lungs concealed his urgent rush for a timely arrival.
“There was no time for research. Cordelia felt the danger was imminent.”
“What’s to research? Demons, they’re bad, they’re ugly, and they need to die.” Gunn concluded, swinging his trusty axe over his shoulder and jerking the loading door up.
“Put a sock in it Charles.” Wesley quipped following Gunn’s lead.
“Whoa English, snark; I’m impressed.”
“Just didn’t want you missing Cordelia too much.”
“Still, that was a good one.”
Angel laid back, content to fill his allotted role as backup, a tinge of envy tugging at the camaraderie between the two men. He had given up any right to be included, walked away foolishly believing even with a soul his demon didn’t need it. And he could live without their trust and friendship, Angel surmised, quickly banishing the envious tug. There was only one thing he couldn’t live without and he wouldn’t allow less important needs to get in his way.
***
“Just pull over here.” Cordelia barked at the cabdriver, throwing a twenty into the front seat before shoving the door open and lunging for the sidewalk. Interruption of sleep before the effects of alcohol and pills wore off blurring her focus, Cordelia gave her head a vigorous shake as she hurried toward the emergency room entrance.
“Charles Gunn was brought in a few minutes ago. He’s being treated for a stab wound.”
“And your relationship with the patient?” The nurse asked, not bothering to look up from her computer screen; years of emergency room duty numbing her to visitors’ anxious sputtering.
“He’s my brother.”
“I see,” was the reply when a glance questioned the truth of her statement, the light bronze of her skin obviously sun induced. “Your brother is in exam room seven, down the hall and to the left.”
“Thanks.”
Cordelia watched from the doorway, Gunn’s chest rising and falling with shallow breaths of peaceful sleep.
“It’s how you live your life. You don’t just face danger, you create it. You’re on a self destruct mission unless you get some help.”
“You need some serious saving. Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me.”
The sentiment may have been true at one time, but not now. Cordelia had learned the real Charles Gunn under the best and worst circumstances. He was sometimes too brave but always cunning, and the fight must have been vicious for him to end up in the emergency room.
“I’m not leaving your side until I know you’re safe. Better plan on having me in your life for a while.”
“OK, so you’re feeling guilty. Suck it up girl, now is not the time for a pity party.”
“Barbie?”
“Hey. Somebody woke me up in the middle of the night to tell me my hero had a booboo…so I rushed right over.” Cordelia stepped inside but left the door open, assuming Wesley was probably dealing with doctors and release forms.
“Yea, sorry about that; I told Wes not to wake you. Nothin’ to fret over, hardly a scratch.”
“I can see that. It’ll take more than a pesky old demon to take down the mighty Gunn.”
“Uh, actually…the demon didn’t stab me.”
“Then who did? Oh my God, not-” Guilt-Guilt-Guilt
“It was Rondell.” Gunn reluctantly admitted. It had been bad enough, taking down the weird looking demons while keeping one eye on the distrusted vampire watching his back, but to be wounded by one of his own men was more than Gunn cared to confess.
“Rondell-it was Rondell! My beauty sleep was interrupted-I’m wallowing in guilt because Rondell got jab happy?”
“Calm down girl, my man’s feeling bad enough as it is.”
“Well he should be, upsetting me like that.” Cordelia smiled, leaning down to place a quick kiss on Gunn’s forehead and blow a soft sigh of relief.
“Whoo girl; did you drink a bottle of minty fresh?”
“I gargled, if that’s what you mean.” Cordelia defended, lifting up and tilting her face away. “I’d been sleeping; I wasn’t coming to the hospital reeking of morning breath.” …and stale liquor.
***
Angel waited across the hallway…watching and listening. He missed the softness of Cordelia’s touch when she would patch his wounds, the warmth of her hands gently patting his cheek then the whispered you’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.
“Ah Angel, you’re still here.” Wesley announced, surprise evident in his voice.
“Just waiting for you to get back, make sure everything is OK.”
“Gunn is fine. A couple of cracked ribs but the puncture wasn’t deep enough to reach a lung.”
“That’s good. Guess I’ll be going then, if you don’t need anything else.”
“You’re welcome the join us Angel.”
“No…I’m not. This is for friends…family.” The concession stuck in his throat, threatening to cut off a lifeless breath. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“Very well then, I’ll see you tomor… Later then.”
“Yea, later. Goodnight Wes.” Angel abruptly turned making his way toward the exit. Sunrise was only a few hours away; and he needed to make a stop before going back to the hotel, otherwise Cordelia would be getting a late night visitor.
***
Lorne struggled with his robe, a medley of curse words spewing from red lips when his toe rammed against the chair. He shook a green fist at the door, no need asking the frantic rapper to identify himself.
“Out for a moonlit stroll Angel?”
“I don’t trust myself right now.”
“Come on in.” Lorne ushered with a sweep of his arm. “I’ll get the bottle.”
“Have you talked to her?”
“We’ve had a couple of powwows. Shared a little teatime.”
“Lorne,” the growl rumbled up his esophagus pushed out by the urgent confession trailing it. “I need to touch her. I can’t be this close and not touch her.”
“Angel, that’s not going to happen any time soon. At least not in a good way.” Lorne advised, his warning rattling with panic.
“Talk to her Lorne.” Angel rasped, downing his drink in a long session of swallows before rising from the table. “I want to see her.” The force of his insistence slapped against the door rippling back into the room. “And without her entourage.”
“The first time Mr. Tall Dark and Rockin’ graced my establishment it was all about the coat. Oh, the good ole days; where did they go?”
***
The chamber felt massive, dwarfing his generous height. He clutched the small, stone-carved figure, fearful the tight grip of his fingers would crush it.
“You dare to enter these sacred chambers without summons lower being.” The ominous voice commanded as the two oracles rose up from the center of the chamber floor in a mist of blue flame.
“Yikes! I am Lor…I am Kre…” I’m the ninny who thought this was a good idea.
“We know who you are.”
“I seek-”
“We know what you seek.”
Of course you do. You are the know it alls after all. “He’s no good to you like this. Angel’s a champion at heart, he’s just lost his way.”
“This vampire with a soul, he was sought out was he not; granted the scroll of Aberjian?”
“But the evils of his world move against him, their forces too strong for him to fight alone.”
“Alone? Was he not granted a connection to our realm?”
Holy Moly what was I thinking? “Look, let’s cut the toga dialect and get down to some good old fashion street lingo. Yes the jackass was told about his destiny, and yes you sent him a seer that was faithful and true, and-”
“The end of days have begun.” The male oracle lifted a hand silencing thought of further protest. “Soldiers of darkness stand ready. The balance shifts, and he is not a champion. We shall not convene on his behalf again.”
“But-”
“Do not come to us again, Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok Clan; your presence will not be greeted with compassion.”
And with the strike of his hand, the male oracle vanished amidst the fiery blaze of blue flames.
“You seek guidance for the one that has fallen?” The female oracle remained, the blaze dwindling to a iridescent mist.
“Yes! I seek guidance. Bless you sister gold.”
“And you have brought a gift?”
“A gift? Yes a gift!” Lorne shouted, shoving the rock-hard figurine at the female oracle. “Beowulf, a myth of the ancient human world. A king who defended his people from the fate of a dragon, giving his life that theirs may flourish.”
The female oracle studied the small statue, turning it over in her hand. “And there is a connection between the gift and that which you seek?”
“Maybe a tiny one.” Lorne answered scrunching his shoulders and gracing the female oracle with a sly grin. “Predestined fate does not a hero make. If you get my meaning.”
“I do not; but no matter, for the gift has meaning to you and those you care about. The curse imprisons the evil one, but the soul is without shackles.”
“As in not bound, but if Angel loses his soul…”
“The soul is without binds, only by choice can it be bound to this world. The vampire must choose or the darkness will devour.”
OK, Miss Solid Gold Dancer, I don’t think you’re getting the gist of our current peril. The vampire with a soul, bound or not, has decided and he’s gonna send the rest of us to hell in a hand basket if we get in his way.
“There is but one truth. Lead them wisely Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok Clan. Evil lives never-ending and strives to embrace those who hold the power to destroy it.”
The flames again blazed a fiery heat, the surge throwing Lorne free of the chamber. He tumbled onto the ground, yelping as knees and elbows scraped across the asphalt. “Heavens to Murgatroyd, exit stage left.” Lorne yammered picking himself up and dusting off his gold lame’ suit.
***
“Here,” Cordelia scoffed, shoving the cup of freshly brewed coffee at Gunn. “You’ve finagled all the TLC you’re gonna get from that little nip.”
“Little nip!” Gunn protested, grasping his side and feigning unbearable pain. “It’ s a gash, a deep, near-fatal gash.”
“Yea right; well that near-fatal gash didn’t stop you from bowling with the guys last night.”
“How did you know-Wes!”
“Leave me out of this.” Wesley quietly ordered, waving a hand in the direction of their squabble, but keeping his attention fixed to his book.
“Don’t blame Wesley. I know because I’m Cordelia Chase and I see all, know all.”
“You ain’t right girl.”
“Maybe not, but I’m leaving. I promised Alex and Julia I’d meet them at the movie theatre by eight o’clock, world annihilation notwithstanding.”
Grabbing her purse she rushed to the door before movie plans could be thwarted a second time. “So suck it up Gunn, you’re officially back on full duty.” Cordelia spun around charging though the doorway until a mishap with déjà vu brought her to a screeching halt.
“Holly crap!” Cordelia stumbled back into the office, the hulking form pursuing every step. Realization that the collision was not with Matthew Ryan freezing clenched muscles, locking them into place.
“Cordelia.” Angel whispered, hands cinching into tight fists as he willed them to remain inside his coat pockets. “I haven’t heard from Wes in three of days, just wanted to make sure everyone was alright.”
“We’re fine Angel.” Wesley answered, suddenly losing interest in his book. “And yourself?”
“Fine thanks,” Angel mumbled, dark eyes melting into Cordelia until she could feel the burn on her skin. “Gunn, you feeling better?”
“Yea I’m good, and I’m over here.” Gunn waved his hands in the air calling out, “a little to your right,” when Angel failed to actually notice him.
Heart pounding and head spinning, droplets of perspiration trickling across her forehead, Cordelia marveled at The Powers’ seeming determination to test her heart’s physical endurance.
The tilt of Angel’s torso descended another discernible degree but the position of his feet remained firmly rooted in place. “Did Lorne talk to you?”
Angel’s whispered breath blew against her cheek, releasing a flood of memories Cordelia was ill prepared to deal with. “Uh…yea…yesterday,” stammered past trembling lips.
“Then we’ll talk soon.” Angel whispered again. Remaining face-forward, he stepped back toward the door, careful to ensure she was beyond reach before slipping his hand out of his pocket and lifting it to flutter the warm air teasing her cheek. “It was good to see you…Cordy.”
And like a pulse of soft wind, a swirl of translucent smoke, Angel was gone; leaving the doorway empty and an unobstructed view of the dark blue jeep parked at the curb.
“Cordelia, what was Angel referring to?”
“Nothing important, I’m late; we’ll talk tomorrow.” Cordelia dashed out the door and jumped inside the jeep, willing herself to smile at her chaperone partner, semi-date.
***
“Uh Wes; what just happened here?”
“I’m not sure, but I don’t think I like it.”
“Well, let’s go then.”
“Go where?” Wesley asked suddenly even more confused.
“To talk to Mr. Green Jeans and find out why he’s having secret meetings with Cordy.”
“No one said anything about secret meetings, and we’re not sneaking behind Cordelia’s back.” Wesley insisted. “She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”
“And if she don’t.” Gunn asked not sure if Cordelia would confide in them, but more than sure he didn’t trust Angel.
“Then we’ll sneak.”
***
“Sister, why do you torment your heart with matters of these lower beings?”
“It is not my torment that saddens my heart, dear Brother.”
“My patience grows weary with your dalliance in the lives of these ill-evolved creatures. Soon your indulgence in their meaningless existence shall find an end.”
“Dalliance, indulgence Brother; is the capacity to embrace the pains of heartache and sorrow our forfeiture for a higher existence in eternity? I think me unwilling to offer that sacrifice.”
“Speak no more of such blasphemies. You are a romantic my dear Sister and therefore allow your perfection to be marred by these mortals.”
“And you are ofttimes less than the vampire you so ardently condemn.”
“Very well, let me take care that I shall not copiously sweep the vampire and his human companions into oblivion. Salvation of the fallen one may be the seer’s gift; but should she fail, destroying the evil that dwells within shall be her duty. The seer has not yet proven herself worthy of our protection.”
“The warrior and seer seek enlightenment with The Delphian of the Pylea dimension, and I have placed in his heart the truth that shall light their path.”
“You are but a foolish girl Suadela, weakened by your love for these wayward creatures as I am weakened by my love for you.”
