Part 9
SUNDAY LATE MORNING
“Angel?”
The vampire didn’t respond when Willow sat next to him on the couch. The redhead sported a black eye and a nasty cut on her left cheek. She was very lucky. Many of the others weren’t. Angel, for instance, was one of the unlucky.
“Angel?” she tried again. “I need you to take off your shirt. I want to check your bandages again.” A dazed Angel dutifully responded. Willow cringed when she saw his torso. It was one large bruise. His entire lower chest was wrapped tightly in bandages to protect the broken ribs.
Just off his sternum was another large bandage. This is where the knife wound had been. Willow gently pealed the old bandage away and taped a new one over the wound. After double-checking the ones around his lower ribs and noticing his face wounds looked better, Willow moved on to her next patient.
It had been sixty years since Spike had seen an army field hospital. But looking around now, Spike realized this bore a remarkable resemblance.
Broken shards of glass from the windows were strewn all over the floor. Furniture was shattered. Books were blown off the shelves. All the little knickknacks that had littered the cabinets lay in broken pieces. Spike breathed deeply. The smell of fresh blood still clung to the air.
Giles rested on a cleared away spot on the floor. He was conscious, unfortunately. When they had brought his body back into the house, Willow had initially feared that his lower back might be broken.
Giles assured her, that if the pain he felt in his legs was any indication that was not the case. Willow had brewed up a mystical painkiller and made him drink, but even that wasn’t enough to give him much relief.
Xander had suffered a harsh head wound. On the back of his head was a bump literally the size of a baseball. He had been in and out of consciousness for the past few hours. Willow knew she should try to keep him awake, but if he could go unconscious, then he just might be luckier than the rest of them.
Wesley rested in a recliner and stared at the ceiling. His back was bruised and he had a good-sized bump on the back of his head. Any other day Willow would insist he go to the hospital. But his injuries were minor compared to others.
Dawn had been knocked out, but she was well enough now to help with the nursing. Like Willow, she sported a hellacious black eye and various cuts and bruises.
Buffy regained consciousness about an hour earlier. Willow diagnosed three broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder. On top of that was a nasty concussion. After wrapping her chest and popping the shoulder back into joint, Buffy was now resting relatively comfortably.
Spike had been bruised and bloodied, but had refused any sort of treatment from Willow. He had spent the past hours lying next to Buffy on the floor and gently running his fingers through her hair and softly whispering to her to wake up.
Kayla and Emma were mostly unharmed. They had several cuts due to flying glass, but that was mainly it. Because of that they had been acting as Willow’s nurses as they tended to everyone.
“Kayla,” Willow started, “go upstairs and get some more pillows from the hall closet.” Kayla nodded and obeyed the order. “Emma. Can you go up to my room? There is a chest in my closet. It has some medical supplies and some healing herbs in it. Bring down whatever you can carry.”
“Sure,” she said. Emma followed after Kayla to do as she was ordered. But as Emma was about to go up the stairs, she noticed someone standing on the doorstep. “Uh, Willow,” Emma called. “Somebody is here.”
Willow looked slightly alarmed. She grabbed a nearby sword and limped to the door. She approached slowly at an angle so she would be out of sight. “Come on in,” she called.
As soon as the tall brunette woman crossed the threshold, she found the business end of a sword about one half inch from her jugular.
“You have five seconds to explain what you’re doing here before this sword gets stuck in your neck,” Willow coolly stated.
Lilah Morgan was used to rude receptions, but normally someone got to know her before they threatened her life. “Wesley sent for me,” she answered nervously. Lilah didn’t know this girl. She had no idea if the redhead would do something.
Lilah was thankful when the mention of Wesley’s name seemed to make the girl lower the blade. Lilah fiddled with the strap of her briefcase and looked around. “Haven’t seen a house this wrecked since some of my old sorority parties.”
Willow continued to glare calmly at the woman. “Well, the bong got lit and it went downhill after that. Now explain further what you are doing here.”
“My name is Lilah Morgan. I’m a lawyer with a firm called Wolfram and Hart. Wesley called me to look into something. I’ve got a delivery for him.”
“Lilah,” a soft voice called. She did a double take at Wesley’s haggard appearance.
“Wes, God, what happened to you?”
“I got the shit stomped out of me,” Wesley answered dryly. “Do you have something?”
“Yeah. I do.” Lilah followed the pair into the living room. She was stunned at the carnage that lay before her. But what shocked her the most was Angel. Lilah had seen him angry, and depressed, and a myriad of other emotional states. But this was as close to broken as she had ever seen him. Not just emotionally, but physically as well. “Holy shit,” Lilah whispered.
“Well said,” Wesley agreed. Looking around the group, he began to make introductions. “This is Buffy, a Slayer. This is Spike. You may know that he is Angel’s grandchilde. The young man currently unconscious is Xander. The girl is Dawn. The older gentleman is Rupert Giles. The two young ladies coming down the stairs are Emma and Kayla. Everyone, this is the bitch from Hell, otherwise known as Lilah Morgan.”
Lilah bit back a retort and chose to be diplomatic. “Where is this Hannah girl you talked about?”
“She was taken,” Buffy said softly. “Just before dawn, Merrick and four minions attacked us.” She shook her head in confusion. “Since when has the Blue Man Group done kidnappings? Who the hell knew they were demons?” Spike, Wesley, Giles, and Lilah all raised their hands in response.
“Only two of them are demons,” Angel spoke for the first time in hours. He looked up sadly at Lilah and asked, “Do you have something?”
Lilah nodded and opened up her briefcase. She reached in and pulled out an eight-inch long leather knife sheath. She unhooked the catch and pulled out an inch thick blade. It was attached to an ivory handle ornately carved in the shape of a dragon. The blade itself was seven inches long and tapered off to a sharp point. All in all, it was a beautiful weapon.
“This dagger was around even before the birth of Christ,” Lilah explained. “Legend says it was created by a Japanese sword maker by the name of Maku. It was forged and then blessed by a coven of sorcerers who bestowed it to a young and brave samurai who pledge to rid the islands of unclean spirits.”
She sheathed the blade and handed it to Angel. “I will need that back, though. It’s on interoffice loan. I don’t return it and I owe the firm my second born son.”
“What about your first born?” Kayla asked curiously.
“Don’t ask,” Lilah answered. “But anyway, that should do the trick. Just stick that in his heart and he’ll be deader than, well, you.” Angel nodded slightly and set the blade aside.
“I hate to say this,” Wesley began, “but when Merrick…does the deed, we will need far more than a knife to destroy him.”
“He won’t do it,” Angel whispered. The gang looked at him in confusion. “Not yet anyway. It’s why he stole her right before the sunrise. Merrick wants me to go insane all day knowing I can’t act. He’ll wait until I find him. He’ll beat me. He’ll torture me. Then he’ll make me watch as he takes her. He didn’t wait eighty years just to kill me. He wants me to hurt.”
The room was silent. If that were true, then they still had a chance to save Hannah. Finally, after several long moments, Lilah broke the silence.
“I should have this guy on payroll.” Wesley stared at her in disgust. “Yeah, that wasn’t even funny to me,” Lilah stated honestly. “I just don’t like prolonged silence. Sorry.”
“So what do we do now?” Buffy asked.
“The same thing we were going to do,” Angel answered. “Emma and Kayla will help Willow mix up her concoction to drain Merrick. We find where he is, then we come down on him like a fucking hurricane.”
“That’s all well and good, mate,” Spike began, “but things have changed. When we came up with this plan, it was all of us against just Merrick. But now he has four badass Dumont demons as lackeys. He’s got your witch hostage. And if you haven’t noticed, none of us are exactly in the best of conditions to jump into a fight. We go in there, even with this magic powder and fancy pants knife, and we are going to get our asses handed to us.”
They all nodded in agreement at Spike’s words. None wanted to admit it, but the truth of the situation seemed clear. A battle with Merrick was something they couldn’t win right now. But Angel wasn’t having it.
“As I see it, we have two thing going for us. Number one: When they struck earlier we were unprepared. That will not be the case again.”
“And number two?”
A stony glanced covered Angel’s face. When he uttered his next words, those who heard them couldn’t help but believe it.
“I’m not willing to lose.”
***
“Cordelia! Calm the fuck down!” Gunn shouted. He and Fred watched as Cordelia bustled around her bedroom jerking clothes from closets and drawers and tossing them into bags.
“Go to hell!” Cordelia shouted back. “I’m going to find Angel! Are you gonna tell me where my fucking car keys are at?” Gunn ducked as a clock radio zipped past his head. She continued to stuff clothes in bags until the baby started crying from all the noise. Cordelia dropped a couple of shirts and immediately went to pick the child from the crib.
Fred shifted nervously behind Gunn. “What do we do?” she asked.
“In my sock drawer is a bottle of Triavil. Find it and bring it here.” Fred scurried off to find the requested item. Gunn slowly approached and tried to look as non-threatening as possible. “Cordelia? I need you to calm down.”
“I need you to go fuck yourself,” Cordelia spat back. “Where are my car keys?”
“You’re not going anywhere, Cordelia. Not in the condition that you are in. You’re agitated. Your thought process isn’t all that smooth.” He continued to advance forward. Cordelia backed away slowly as she rocked her child. The baby’s wails didn’t slow down.
“Cordelia. Look. Even the little tike can tell how nervous you are.” The mention of the baby seemed to bring Cordelia down from the tirade. Fred then returned with the pills and a bottle of water. She handed them to Gunn.
“Listen. Why don’t you hand the baby over to Fred and you can take a couple of these pills? I promise they’ll make you feel better. If you do, I swear that we will call Wesley so you can get a progress report, okay?”
Cordelia nervously shifted her gaze from Gunn, Fred, the pills, and her baby. She seemed to consider the options. Gunn grinned internally when Cordelia visibly broke. She sighed heavily and gently handed the baby to Fred.
She then opened her hand to accept the pills. Gunn tapped two from the bottle and gave them to her. Cordelia popped them in her mouth and followed it with the water.
“Now open your mouth,” Gunn commanded.
“What? Don’t trust me to swallow?”
“I trust you in so many ways…just not this one. Open up.” Cordelia opened her mouth for Gunn to do his search. “Lift your tongue.” She did so. “Good. Now let’s get you to bed. This stuff will make you drowsy.”
Cordelia didn’t fight too much as Gunn pulled down her sheets and helped her get tucked in. She murmured a “piss off” when Gunn asked if she were comfortable. He sighed in resignation and led Fred away. Before he left, Gunn flipped off the lights and then shut the door.
Cordelia listened for the footsteps to disappear before jumping from the bed. She reached beneath the mattress and retrieved the bag she had made the day before. Cordelia would give the placebo half an hour. After that, Cordelia was grabbing the baby and getting the hell out of town.
