Part 7
SATURDAY EVENING
Angel was confused. Sitting in an old wooden chair at the small corner desk in the guest bedroom, his fingers lightly wrapped around a glass of whiskey, Angel contemplated the hell that was his life.
He brought the glass up to his lips, but as happened the past four times, Angel couldn’t bring himself to drink. He set the cup down and continued to stare at the horrendous wallpaper.
His thoughts were on Hannah, mainly, but Cordelia was also a prominent fixture. Angel couldn’t help but marvel at his recent history with women. One of them was supposedly his arch-nemesis, but that didn’t stop him from falling in love with her and getting sent to Hell.
Another was a centuries old sociopath that gave birth to a child that hated his guts. Then there was a formerly feisty cheerleader but now manic-depressive seer with occasional fits of less than lucid behavior.
And now Hannah.
To say she was a hottie was to put it lightly. Beautiful green eyes, gorgeous red head, smooth porcelain skin, and a killer body. But there was more to the girl than Hollywood looks. He could plainly see a keen intelligence, and despite the situation, flashes of a charming sense of humor.
She was the complete package. It was obvious why Angel would be attracted to her. Any heterosexual male would be. Hannah was perfect.
But then so was Cordelia.
Or at least she had been. Angel couldn’t deny that she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. But that spark was gone. The intangible that made Cordelia, Cordelia. It was what made her more than a hollow shell wearing the face of the woman he had fallen in love with.
When Cordelia had first returned to this plane, Angel had assumed that if she were to regain her memory that the spark would return. He was witness to flashes of that old flame, but the Night of Fire ironically enough seemed to extinguish that spark. Cordelia, and their relationship in general, was unrecognizable.
But should he give up on her? Should he give up on them? Could he really be blamed for being interested in another woman? Could he be blamed for moving on? And what of his relationship with Hannah? Not that there was a relationship, but could there be? Was he projecting his unresolved and whimsical feelings for Cordelia onto Hannah? Angel didn’t think so.
What worried Angel was that he might be mistaking Hannah for Sarah. They did have nearly identical looks and mannerisms. And that feeling he had in his stomach when he kissed Hannah was the same feeling he had with Sarah. It was the feeling that made him leave all those years ago. But still, Angel was tempted to say to Hell with Cordelia. There was no reason why he shouldn’t try to move on and find a bit of happiness elsewhere.
Angel sighed heavily. Finally breaking down, he took a long swill from the cup of whiskey. But when it came down to it, Angel wasn’t quite ready to give up on Cordelia. His soul still held onto the fleeting hope that he could help regain that missing spark. She would never again be the woman that he had fallen in love with. Their relationship would never be the thing it once was.
But that didn’t mean Cordelia or their relationship couldn’t move in another, but at the same time, wonderful direction.
Angel turned towards the door at the knocking. Buffy poked her head in moments later. “You being all broody in here?” she asked.
Angel shot her a wry smile. “Darling, I have not yet begun to brood. I have only scratched the surface of my brooding depths.”
“Lovely. Doing some heavy thinking I take it?”
“Yup.”
“Care to talk about it?”
“Sure. Life sucks and women are a pain in the ass. That about sums it up.”
“Your boundless optimism is an inspiration to us all. Since you don’t want to talk, how about you come downstairs? Willow had a moment of inspiration or something. Says she’s discovered something big.”
Angel was immediately curious. “Then I guess we better go then. And Buffy? Thanks for offering to talk with me.”
Buffy smiled. “No problem. What are friends for? Now if you’re ready, how about we go hear about Will’s Eureka moment?”
Angel was all for that. Buffy flicked off the light switch and the pair disappeared downstairs for the meeting.
***
Technology certainly was a marvelous thing. Spike and Angel had been around a long time. Both were born and raised in an era where electricity wasn’t in common usage. Automobiles and aircraft were unheard of. The world was only just becoming industrialized.
It never ceased to amaze them how much the world had changed. People hustled about in cars. Man had actually flown to the moon. Satellites were able to broadcast all Formula One and English League Soccer matches to televisions across the globe, a fact that both vampires enjoyed immensely. The computer age was in full swing.
That being said, Angel and Spike were about to experience a first.
“Truly amazing, isn’t it mate?” Spike asked.
“It is indeed,” Angel agreed. “The world has come a long way.”
“Yes it has.” The vampires sat front row as they gazed at the laptop on the desk. In their combined 370 years of existence, Angel and Spike were about to experience their first PowerPoint lecture.
“And to think,” Angel mused, “that this type of technology is commonplace in modern classrooms.”
“It certainly is more appealing than those Bartlett Readers we had when I was a schoolboy,” Spike acknowledged. “If we had this back in my day, I’d have spent more time on my studies and not wondering what Miss Crenshaw had under her dresses.”
Buffy and Xander just stared at them. “You two are deeply sad,” Xander said. Spike and Angel would have defended their honor, but Willow entered the room. Everyone straightened up in their seats and prepared to listen.
In the corner, Giles felt a slight whimsical feeling overtake him. He missed the days where he was the one giving the lectures.
“Okay everyone,” Willow began. “I believe I’ve discovered something very important about our friend Merrick.” She clicked the mouse and an article from the Sunnydale Gazette appeared.
“This is Kamy Taylor. She’s a local Wicca that was murdered yesterday.” Another click brought up an autopsy report. “Out of curiosity I visited the SPD website. I was able to hack into the coroner report. Upon reading the file, I noticed that Kamy’s body displayed abnormally low levels of electrolytes and glucocorticoids. Now, if you’re an NASA person or an X-Files buff like myself, you know that such symptoms are correlated with prolonged weightlessness. But they are also symptoms of something else.”
Willow clicked again. A map of the United States appeared. But this map had several red dots on it, including one right where Sunnydale would be. A second click connected the dots with a black line.
“Hannah, Emma, and Kayla were able to precisely recount the route they took to arrive in Sunnydale. I represent it with the black line. Seeing Kamy’s autopsy reports got me to thinking. Using the data they gave me, and the information from Kamy’s report, I was able to search for more victims.”
“More victims with those symptoms?” Hannah asked.
“More accurately, victims with these symptoms that just happen to be Wiccans.” Giles immediately understood what Willow was driving at. Angel and Spike had a good idea, too.
“Cross referencing murders in towns along the route with similar symptoms and Wicca affiliations, I came up with seven hits.” A click of the mouse brought up seven photographs. “Seven women have been murdered that display similar electrolyte and glucocorticoid imbalance. Talking with Hannah, I can say with 95 percent that these murders would correlate with Merrick’s presence in town. The dates match up.”
“So he’s killing Wiccans. Why?” Buffy asked.
“Is he trying to build up more power?” Xander added.
“Not exactly,” Willow answered.
“He’s maintaining power,” Giles spoke. Willow nodded in agreement.
“Maintaining power?” Hannah was confused. “What do you mean by that?”
Willow paused a moment as she tried to formulate an answer that would be easy to understand. “This power that Merrick absorbed to break free from his prison. It really isn’t his power.” Confused looks greeted her. “It’s a kind of superficial power. It isn’t his, but Merrick still has access to it.” The people she needed to explain to were still confused. Angel decided to try and help out.
“The energy he took only increases his maximum power potential.”
Spike helped with the explanation. “Think of the energy like a battery that he can carry around. But the battery loses its charge quickly. Taking magicks from these women restores that stored energy.”
Willow nodded in confirmation. “If he doesn’t recharge the battery every so often, Merrick is essentially reduced to the power he held before absorbing the clan magicks. By taking the power directly from Hannah, Merrick will ensure that that maximum power potential will be a permanent fixture.”
Xander clapped his hands together as he had a thought. “So. We just keep this guy from killin’ any witches for a while and we just wait until he becomes weak.” Some of the room groaned at the statement. Spike was the only one to vocalize his thoughts.
“Boy, you might be legally retarded.”
“He has a point,” Giles mused to no one.
Willow spoke up before Xander had a chance to snap back. “While Xander’s heart is in the right place, I’m afraid it isn’t that simple. We have to remember that Merrick is a molder. Which means he can convert any form of energy into a power that he can use. He could literally absorb usable power from a car battery, a solar panel, or a portable generator.”
“Then why go to the trouble of killing a person?” Buffy questioned.
“What’s the fun in that?” Spike answered rhetorically. A few members of the group looked at him strangely. Spike didn’t seem to mind. He merely elaborated on his thoughts. “This guy is a soulless monster. What could be better than getting the power you need than doing it while taking the life of another creature? That’s power in and of itself.”
“That,” Wesley continued, “and a car battery, or a solar panel, or a portable generator wouldn’t be able to provide near as much energy as one human could.”
“He’d have to drain every battery at Pep Boys to equal the power of one Wicca,” Angel concluded. “Of course he’ll go after a human.”
The room was silent as the group attempted to wrap their minds around the new information. Hannah finally vocalized the question on her mind.
“I’m still not sure how this helps us. So this excess energy is only temporary. Besides waiting for the power to drain, I don’t see how else we can act upon it. Unless, of course, you have some tidbit of information that proves otherwise.”
Willow reached across the table and grabbed a thick tome. “I think Spike said it best. Think of this power like a battery.” Said vampire beamed in pride at having had the best explanation. He was pleased that Buffy looked proud of him, too. “Batteries can be drained of their power,” Willow continued. “I’m fairly sure that I can find some sort of extraction spell that might assist in draining off the excess energy.”
“And presto,” Spike said. “No more uber-demon. Just plain old demon.”
Buffy smiled widely. “And with a Slayer, a super witch, and two bad ass vampires, it shouldn’t be a problem to bring him down.”
Smiles began to slowly appear on everyone’s faces. If all went well, then this conflict could be over quickly. For a moment, everyone forgot that they were in Sunnydale, a town where things never went well.
***
“Focus!” Wesley shouted. “Come on, Cordelia! Give me three more good pushes! That should do it!”
Cordelia, however, was too fucking tired to push anymore. She vocalized that thought. “I can’t, Wesley,” she panted. “Too tired.”
“I know you are, Cordelia. But this isn’t the sort of job that you can stop in the middle of. Now man up, take a deep breath, and give me a couple good pushes! That’s an order, Cordelia!” Wesley could clearly see she didn’t have the motivation. He decided on a different tactic.
“Or are you too pussy to do it?” He ignored her scathing look. “Figures that you would simply roll over and give up. Seems that is all you’ve been doing lately. The Cordelia I knew didn’t know the meaning of the word quit. Evidently, this new version does.”
A seemingly rare occurrence happened. A fire began to burn in Cordelia’s eyes. For the first time in weeks, a sense of determination filled her. She did the one thing to prove to Wesley that she wasn’t a quitter. She pushed.
“Good!” Wesley encouraged. “That’s a good girl! Now come on! Give me another!” She did. “Great! Bare down, Cordelia! You’re almost done!” One final push did it. The sounds of a baby’s screaming filled the office. “You did it, Cordelia!” Cordelia gave a relieved smile before collapsing back on the desk.
Fred quickly came up and wrapped the baby in a towel. She cooed softly at the child as Wesley took the sterilized scissors and cut the umbilical cord. Fred’s limited medical knowledge then took over. Grabbing a few Q-tips she had found in an executive’s washroom, she gently swabbed the inside of the baby’s nose to clean out the nasal passages. Fred took another towel and delicately wiped the baby clean. Satisfied with her work, Fred decided it was time for baby to say hello to mother.
Cordelia smiled softly as Fred handed the bundled over. “Hi there,” Cordelia breathed. The baby went silent as it gazed into Cordelia’s hazel eyes for the first time. “So you’re the little bugger that did all that gymnastics in my belly.” The baby gurgled softly. Cordelia’s heart melted. “Won’t it be cool to tell all your friends in school you were born during an apocalypse?” She continued to marvel at the child and said, “I can’t wait for Angel to meet you.”
Connor looked on sadly. Of course it was Angel that she would mention. It was in that singular moment that Connor understood his role. Even despite their night together, he would never be the man in her life. It would always be about Angel. Nobody noticed when he quietly slipped from the room.
“Hot damn!” Faith shouted gleefully. “Angelus just stuck that primordial son of a bitch like a hog!” They all watched as Faith whipped the duffle bag off her shoulder and removed the Urn of Lordoth. When she uncapped the urn, a bright blue streak shot out and disappeared. “Go little soul! Find your home!”
Gunn and Wesley shouted their approval. They even did a little jig to the chorus of “Angel won! Angel won!” The three were so caught up in their celebration that they nearly missed Cordelia’s soft-spoken question.
“Where is Connor?” The group looked around. It was Wesley who would speak for the group.
“Aw, bloody hell.”
***
Never let it be said that Cordelia lacked innovation. Even she had to marvel at some of the things her mind came up with. She was certainly never this imaginative in high school. But then again, Cordelia never had any reason to be imaginative.
That certainly wasn’t the case now. Cordelia needed to find the man that she loved and bring him home. That’s why she was in Gunn’s bedroom preparing to switch out the Triavil prescription he had recently required with the placebo she had created.
A little sugar, some egg whites, and blue food coloring was all she had needed. Having scouted his room on several previous occasions, Cordelia was able to quickly find Gunn’s sock drawer and the desired bottle.
“Won’t be needing these anymore,” she said aloud. Cordelia emptied the bottle contents and stuffed the pills into her left sweatpants pocket. From her right pocket she produced a Ziploc bag with twenty samples of her placebo. She made quite sure the bottle was full before replacing it.
Cordelia glanced at her watch. Gunn would be up to check on her in a few minutes. Satisfied Phase One was complete, Cordelia retreated back to her own room. Flushing the Triavil down the toilet, Cordelia would have to wait patiently until Gunn and Fred were occupied before she could begin Phase Two. After that, Cordelia would be able to put her plan into action.
***
The microwave bell sounded and Angel popped open the door to retrieve his blood packet. He momentarily vamped out and used a fang to tear through the plastic. Angel switched back to human face and poured the blood in a novelty mugged labeled ‘Vampires Suck’.
In the kitchen he could hear the sound of laughter. The general tone of the group was considerably lighter. Most were feeling confident that they would win the upcoming battle. Angel concentrated for a moment and zeroed in on Hannah. He was surprised that she knew a joke that lewd. He then heard the sound of the doorbell sound. The pizzas they had ordered were here.
Angel wasn’t quite so lighthearted. He was the only one who knew Merrick. Even if Willow did find a way to suck the excess energies from him, Angel knew the fight would be difficult even with the aid of Spike and Buffy.
Merrick would be difficult to kill. As Angel had mentioned when the girls first arrived, the only way it could be done is if his heart was destroyed. Short of ripping it from his body and stomping it with his foot, Angel wasn’t quite sure how that could be accomplished. Angel was so wrapped up in the possibilities that he missed the sound of footsteps in the kitchen.
“Not going to join the group?”
Angel startled at Wesley’s voice. “Fuck, Wes, yodel when you enter a room.” Wesley smirked at for having once caught Angel off guard. “Did you come in here just to see me get pissed or do you have a greater purpose?”
“Well,” Wesley drawled. “I did have a note of business that I felt needed to be discussed, but I think I should bring up a personal note first.”
“Which would be?”
“What the hell do you think you are doing with Hannah?” Angel quirked his brows in confusion. “I know you two were up to something this morning. I know that in the end I can’t do shit, but all I can say is that I hope you don’t throw away your relationship with Cordelia to go after this girl.”
“Wesley,” Angel warned, “don’t even start it. I have no clue as to what my relationship to either of them is. Right now I can’t worry about it. Right now I have to worry about how I’m going to kill Merrick.”
“Very well. We won’t talk about Cordelia or Hannah. Easy to do since you brought up the business note I wanted to discuss. I’ve been hearing that the only way to kill a Necklar is to destroy the heart. Is that true?” Angel nodded that it was. “Any suggestions or ideas on that?”
Angel shrugged. “You, Buffy, and Spike could hold him down while I cut it out.” Off Wesley’s look he said, “Not the greatest of ideas, I know, but it’s all I got.” Angel let out a frustrated grunt. “I know there must be some weapon out there that can kill Necklars. All of the badass demon breeds have some mystical weapon that can destroy them quick and easy. Hell, the Beast did with that Blade of Hefler or Hefnar of whatever. It’s like Goopta’s Law of the Paranormal or something. We just need to find it.”
“Well,” Wesley drawled. “You are certainly right about finding a specific weapon. Many breeds do have specific items that were forged to combat them. While our own research seems to be turning up little in such regards, I do have a suggestion on a means of acquiring the information we need. I’m sure you wouldn’t approve of it, and knowing so, I already took the liberty of looking into it.”
Angel stared at him blankly a moment as he shifted through Wesley’s doublespeak. Understanding suddenly hit him and Wesley was more than slightly surprised by how well Angel took it.
“I suppose we don’t have enough options to be picky about who we consult. But how do we know we’re not going to get screwed?”
“We don’t,” Wesley answered bluntly. “All we can do is hope for the best.”
“And expect the worst,” Angel finished. “I’m beginning to wonder if I should put that phrase on my family crest.”
Wesley chuckled lightly. “Does seem fitting,” he admitted. “Now come on. We can help Willow research her spell while we watch a soccer match on the television.”
Angel perked considerably. “Soccer? Is it the good stuff or this American MLS crap?”
“The MLS crap.” Angel looked disappointed. “I know, I know, but they don’t have a satellite dish so we must settle for Fox Sports West.”
Angel continued to grumble about shitty American soccer as the pair went into the living room. However, he couldn’t help the slight smile from crossing his face as Hannah made room on the couch for him. She returned the smile as she handed him a slice of pepperoni pizza.
And Wesley watched them interact with a disappointed and resigned expression in his face.
***
Dumont demons were a strange breed. Their physical structure was remarkably similar to humans. The only major differences were the lack of body hair and that their skin was a midnight blue.
Mentally, they were far different from the prototypical demon. Most demon impulses ranged not much further than reproducing and feeding. Dumont’s were widely recognized as gangsters of the underworld.
Their notoriety for taking on contracts to do various species, including humans, dirty work was far reaching. Contract killings, drug running, prostitution, bodyguard work, nothing was beyond the morality level of a Dumont.
That being said, Dumont demons had absolutely no problem with what Merrick proposed to them. There was, of course, an issue about payment.
“It’s gonna cost ya,” Ruben, the lead Dumont said.
Merrick, his hair slicked back and his clothing immaculately pressed, smiled at the demon and placed a briefcase on the main table in the Dumont lair. Ruben looked at it curiously and nodded to one of his lackey’s to open it up.
“What is it, Frank?” Ruben asked.
Frank eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “Uh, you should probably see it for yourself.” Frank tilted the briefcase so that Ruben could see. If Ruben wasn’t mistaken, that appeared to be several bound stacks of one hundred dollar bills.
Ruben’s once hostile expression melted away and a broad grin took its place. “I see you prefer the payment in bulk over the installment plan. Cuts down on interest rates. Smart man. May I ask how you acquired that sort of currency?”
Merrick smiled smugly. “Through various avenues. Now, what services will this payment provide for me?”
Ruben considered for a moment. “I can let you have four of my men.” He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from his desk and turned to Frank. “Frank. Gather up Lenny, Keith, and Bruce. You guys have a job.” Ruben scribbled on the piece of paper and handed it to Merrick. “Here is the address of a property on King Street. You can do your…business there. Is that suitable to you?”
Merrick accepted the paper and looked at the address. “It is. These men that you give me better be good fighters. The last thing I need is to get in a battle and discover that one or more cannot carry their weight.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Ruben assured. “My boys will be ready to fight whenever you need them.”
“I’ll need them in a few hours,” Merrick stated. “We attack shortly before dawn.” The smile that covered Merrick’s face sent a chill down Ruben’s spine. “Angel can’t follow me in the daylight. That should be torture for him when he knows that I have his girl.”
Ruben watched quietly as Merrick turned and exited the underground lair. Dumont demons didn’t frighten easily, but Ruben could safely say that Merrick chilled him. “That boy has a lot of negative energy,” Ruben observed. “He needs to learn yoga or something, because he just ain’t right.”
