15: Westbound Lane, Route 8, Sonora Desert, Arizona
“Are we there yet?” Drusilla pouted as she stared out into the night. This desert seemed endless and though it teemed with crawling life none of it interested her as much as seeing Angel again.
Spike stepped a little harder on the gas pedal. She could see for herself they were not likely to reach Sunnydale much before dawn. “We’d bloody be there already if you hadn’t stopped to snack on those border guards.”
Lifting a long finger to her lips, the vampiress shushed him. “You’ll wake Miss Edith.”
Scene 16
16: Thousand Oaks Drive, Central Sunnydale
“Crappity crap,” Cordelia muttered as she hurried along the dark sidewalk toward the high school. The thirty-minute walk she had to make every evening to get back here took her past some of Sunnydale’s creepiest real estate.
She glanced down Crawford Street as she passed by and caught a glimpse of the old mansion up on the hill. The windows were dark and mostly boarded up, but the moonlight overhead outlined the roof. One wing of the mansion was skeletal and charred from a fire started by pranksters on Halloween five or six years ago.
The entire family had been killed and the heirs to the estate never got around to doing anything about rebuilding. It was not the first time that people had died there. A long history of unexplained events was connected with the place going back to its earliest occupancy in the 1920s.
These days, stories abounded about the lights in the old mansion and the ghosts that inhabited its lonely halls. Cordelia knew it was just Angel, but telling people to chill because a vampire had taken up residence in their favorite haunted mansion was not likely to be taken seriously.
Getting closer, she caught sight of Buffy, Xander and Willow winding their way through Pine Grove Cemetery. They were too far off to bother with, but it was clear that the pre-patrol Scooby meeting had already broken up. That meant she had no idea what tonight’s assignment was supposed to be. There were too many signs written in the prophecy to remember which one was next.
“I so need a car,” Cordelia groaned as she reached the school grounds. Existing without her Corvette the past few weeks equated to major suckage, something not going away anytime soon. She had frequently been forced to take the bus to get from one side of town to the other.
Cordelia slowed down now that she was on the school sidewalk. No need to hurry since Angel was probably halfway across town. He made it clear the assignment of patrolling with her was not his choice. It wasn’t hers either, but they managed to take care of the bad guys and bring back the flesh & bone relic.
Deciding to check out the library just in case Faith and Giles were still there, she headed straight for the main entrance. Her internal monologue on the ickiness of demon worship and the sadness that was Giles’ fascination with the artifact was still playing through her head when a shadow fell across her path.
She let out a scream as a large hand grabbed her arm. “Cordelia.” Despite the sound of her own name on Angel’s lips, her heart was pounding.
“Sheesh! Lurk much?” Cordelia clasped a hand to her chest and let out a sigh of relief. “Are you into scaring your victims to death?”
Releasing his hold on her arm, Angel muttered, “Sorry.”
Having recovered from her little fright, Cordelia decided to get down to business. She was here for patrol and it was not like they had anything better to talk about. Cordelia was not planning to tell him anything about the past four hours of hell and she seriously doubted his day involved anything more exciting than sleeping or brooding about Buffy.
She did have to credit him with one thing. “Hey, thanks for waiting for me. I’m a little late.”
“I noticed,” Angel quirked lips suggested he was laughing at her in his own stoic way. She was not used to seeing him with anything but a blank, broody expression, or maybe a hint of lost puppy dog showing in those deep brown eyes. The latter appeared when he was staring at Buffy.
“So what’s the mission? I suppose we’re going back to cryptville. Please tell me you got dibs on the eastside.” Cordelia had made her preferences clear last night and she hoped he had acted on them.
Hope faded as Angel shook his head, “Midtown again. No cemeteries this time,” he put a positive spin on it. “The target area is a little vague. According to the research, the next sign will be revealed in a place the public gathers.”
Thinking about the possibilities, Cordelia perked up. That sounded better than tramping around graveyards. “So where are we going?”
They started walking while Angel explained the plan. “Since Buffy wanted to stay on this side of town her team is headed to the Bronze.”
“Pfft! That figures,” Cordelia muttered. It made sense considering that she had seen the Scoobies at Pine Grove. It was only a block and a half from the club.
“Giles and Faith are going to Main Street.”
Cordelia could understand that choice. Since it was Friday night all of the shops and bars stayed open later than usual. Even the Doublemeat Palace kept to a twenty-four hour schedule on the weekends and in the summertime. “At least they won’t go hungry.”
Her stomach rumbled as if on cue. Wide-eyed and flushed with embarrassment at the noise, Cordelia explained that she did not have time to stop for dinner. After listening to her hasty excuse, Angel had that sparkle in his eyes again. It irritated her that she was a source of amusement for him.
“We’ll get you something when we get there,” Angel promised.
Noticing that they were walking along Thousand Oaks Drive, which bisected the town running east to west, Cordelia was not sure where they were headed. They were passing Crawford Street, this time at its midpoint much closer to home for Angel, and were coming up on Revello Drive.
“So where are we going?” she asked him again only to come up with an idea that caused her to squeal in delight. “The mall! It’s the mall. That’s even better than the Bronze.”
Angel seemed to speed up a little forcing Cordelia to walk a little faster. “The mall is closing in an hour,” he pointed out. “You know the signs are supposed to show up after that.”
“Meaning we’re not going to the mall,” Cordelia’s happy little bubble burst. “So much for my convenient shop-while-you-patrol scenario.”
Maybe it was mall withdrawal. Between being in the hospital and everything else that followed, she had not seen the inside of the mall in weeks. Cordelia tried to convince him, “Oh, c’mon! If we have a little time to spare, I could sneak in a few minutes of window-shopping while we wait. Plus, they have a food court. I could get one of my favorite fruit swirls and you can have… well, whatever.”
“I don’t think they serve anything to my taste,” he returned flatly.
Cordelia figured there was not exactly a high demand for blood milkshakes. Then again, this being Sunnydale, someone could probably make a few bucks if they catered to its minority population of vampires and demony types. “You’ve never tried a Strawberry-Peach swirl. How would you know?”
He was silent for a moment as if weighing the need to answer. “Blood is the only real food for a vampire.”
“Eew! I really wanted to know that— not,” Cordelia’s nose crinkled at the thought of it.
Looking embarrassed that he had mentioned it, Angel commented, “It’s just that the other stuff has no nutritional value. I don’t feel full afterwards.”
With a sarcastic roll of her eyes, she added, “Nutritional value? Pfft. Neither does chocolate fudge ripple ice cream, but I dare you to try that and not love it. The food court also has a Baskin Robbins if you’re feeling brave.”
“We’re not going to the mall.”
“Sheesh! It’s not like I suggested checking out Victoria’s Secret.” Seeing his brow quirk upward before he turned his gaze forward again, Cordelia giggled. A sudden image of Mr. Dark Ages holding his hand over his eyes so as not to see anything inappropriate popped into her head.
For all she knew, he had a funky fetish: Angel holding up a lacy bra next to his chest and stating, “I like this one.”
After all, she did not know him that well yet. It kept her laughing until she could hardly breathe. “C’mon, we have to stop in for just a few minutes,” she gasped through the suggestion.
Though he was not exactly privy to her thoughts on the subject, Angel obviously was not used to being laughed at. He stopped, facing her as if he planned to shut her up himself, scowled dangerously and then turned back in the direction they were going.
Cordelia held onto her injured side, feeling a twinge of discomfort as she laughed, but it was worth it. The last few hours had been too proper and serious-minded. It felt good to make fun of her somber patrol partner. “Sure you don’t wanna go shopping with me?”
Angel told himself not to respond, but each giggle made it worse grating against that nerve she seemed to know so well. He was managing until her teasing went as far as asking how he would handle wading through a sea of silky undergarments.
“There’s no time for that,” he growled irritably, explaining they needed to be in place before the start of the designated timeframe.
Swallowing her laughter, Cordelia sobered when she thought about the fact that he might not be such a nervous Nellie about handling silky slips of nothing. Angel had been around a long time and considering that he was such a hunk of salty goodness, vampire or not, it suddenly occurred to her that she would be the one blushing in that situation. With Angel standing next to her, holding up a colorful scrap of silk against the curves of her breasts, murmuring, “I like this one.”
Yikes.
“Um, yeah, well it’s not like they have a Tall & Broody section anyway,” Cordelia’s laughter died as she realized it had been a while since she’d imagined Angel doing anything with her underwear.
Suddenly feeling flushed all over Cordelia explained the heat that swamped her as too much laughing. Yes, humor was good for the circulation. Acknowledging the feeling of awkwardness while simultaneously shrugging it off, she fell back into step beside him.
Maybe Angel and malls did not really mix. How depressing for him. That thought kept her occupied for a few blocks until she finally realized that Angel never told her where they were going.
“Hey, are you ever going to tell me where you’re taking me or am I supposed to keep guessing?” Cordelia was fed up with the lack of two-way conversation. She was really going to have to work on that if they were going to be spending more time together on patrol.
Angel’s gaze slid across to meet hers. He said nothing and Cordelia took that as his answer. “So you like guessing games? Fine. I know this town like the back of my hand.”
Considering it a challenge, she tried to come up with other public gathering spots. “The zoo is in the other direction,” she nixed that idea. Besides, it was also closed by this hour and there was another prophecy that hinted at a zoo connection later on.
“There’s the beach,” Cordelia grinned at the thought of walking along the sand in her bare feet. God, she loved the beach even at this time of year. That would certainly make up for the creepy cemeteries from last night. Just one problem, she realized. “Only the beach isn’t exactly a midtown hangout. Especially at night.”
“No,” Angel agreed wryly and let her continue.
“Same thing with the bluffs,” Cordelia frowned as she was quickly running out of ideas. Sunnydale was not exactly known for its hot spots. “And let’s face it; I am so not going to scope out Lover’s Lane with you.”
Finally, they paused at the turn-off into a dimly lit part of the town that Cordelia had never been to before. Angel might have been listening, but his attention had shifted into high alert. His gaze slid from shadow to shadow. Cordelia reached for the stake she had tucked into the waistband of her skirt and whispered, “Do you see something?”
“No. Just checking,” Angel commented. Curling his fingers around her elbow, he led her into the alley. “We’ll cut through here. It’ll save us some time.”
“Going where?” Cordelia could not think of any reason why the public would want to gather around here. The trash-filled alley smelled worse than one of her not so favorite cemeteries.
Angel finally told her their destination. “Willy’s Place.”
“A bar?” Cordelia tugged her elbow out of his loose grasp. “Underage here.”
“Yeah,” Angel muttered. “I know.”
Cordelia huffed, not because it was a bar, but because she was unprepared to come here. Conspiratorially, she whispered, “You should have told me sooner. I would’ve brought my fake ID.”
If Angel was surprised or impressed that she had a fake ID, he hid it well. “That won’t matter. They’ll let you in. You’re with me.”
“Meaning they know you? Oh, crap! This is a demon bar, isn’t it?” Ohhhh, yeah, she had heard about it from Xander. “Buffy’s snitch owns this place.”
“Willy,” Angel confirmed it.
Groaning in complaint, Cordelia gripped his leather sleeve and tugged a couple of times. “We could’ve been at the Bronze instead. You so need to learn to speak up next time Giles hands out the assignments.”
Angel explained that he did not really like the thought of taking her in there, but it was her idea to help out on patrol. “You’re either with me or you stay home.”
“Unfortunately, a skuzzy bar is exactly my karma right now,” Cordelia sounded resigned to deal with it. “Guess that means I’m with you. Let’s go.”
He held her back, turning her to face him. “You need to know what to expect.”
“I’ve seen enough of Sunnydale’s creepy side to guess.”
“Maybe you have,” Angel conceded, but added a warning. “Let me do the talking. I don’t want someone deciding to bite your head off.”
Her jaw dropped a little, “Literally?”
Angel did not deny the possibility. It might make her uncomfortable to be around him, but he explained things might go more smoothly if he was in game face. “It’ll be easier if I don’t go in looking like this.”
“Tall, dark and totally—?” Cordelia’s breath caught in her throat, eyes widening as his human features shifted almost fluidly into a prominent brow and ridged lines. Jagged teeth and fangs appeared in place of his smoothly polished blunt ones.
Seeing what he assumed was shock on her face Angel let his demon visage fade back to human form. “Maybe I should have taken you home. This is too much for you. I know you still remember the night I….”
His voice trailed off. Angel really did not want to remind her of the night he almost killed her. It was obviously an issue with her as their conversation had revealed. Even then, he had admitted that she still looked tasty.
Disgusted with himself, Angel wasn’t certain what to do next. Part of him wanted to tell her, ‘Time to grow up little girl. If you want to patrol with me, learn to deal.’ The other part struggled with shame and the unexpected need for her acceptance.
Not that he thought he had a chance of getting that from Cordelia Chase. She had made her opinion about vampires perfectly clear, and he had certainly never given her much reason to change her mind, although he remembered that she had seen his natural face yesterday and not shirked from it.
“It’s okay, Angel.” When she finally spoke, soft and husky, there was a genuine smile on her face. “Bygones are just gone. My fault for staring. I’ve just never really seen you do that up close.”
“This?” Angel shifted back again testing her reaction. Pleased that Cordelia did not flinch or turn away, he felt himself relax.
There was actually a spark of curiosity in her gaze as she stared directly into his eyes. Angel wondered what she was seeing. The old daguerreotypes that Darla once insisted they have taken gave him a pretty good idea. Demonic eyes, dark and golden: Angelus’ eyes.
Cordelia slowly reached toward his face, her fingers warm against his cool skin as they came into contact. He almost backed away from the sensation, but did not. He allowed the warmth of her palm to seep into his skin. “You’re different from him, even this way. I can see it.”
Dragging her hand away, he let it go. Firmly reminding her, “But it’s still me.” Angel did not want any misconceptions between them. “The demon is just as much a part of me as this soul. Remember that.”
“Pfft! Like I’d forget,” Cordelia acted like it was a non-issue and impatiently asked if they were going into the bar any time this century.
“Cor—,” he started to issue one more reminder about his concerns for her safety.
“Yadda, yadda, yadda. I know the drill,” she waved him off. “Stick close. Let you do the talking. Got it.”
Angel had a strange feeling it was not going to be that easy.
They arrived at the main entrance where the neon sign flashed Willy’s name. A burly bouncer nodded curtly in acknowledgement and waived them right inside. Loud music blared from a jukebox against the wall and the added din of multiple conversations made it almost uncomfortable. The smoky air mixed with scents of blood, flesh, sweat and alcohol.
He let himself breathe it all in only to catch a whiff of Cordelia’s perfume and the myriad temptations of subtle feminine scents. Despite that he should be assessing the crowd for potential threats, he breathed her in a little deeper focusing on something he could not quite place. New soap? The thought of her sudsy hands moving across the landscape of her golden skin was enough to cause his balls to tighten.
Just that momentary lapse of concentration left them vulnerable to the open scrutiny of the crowd. Instead of pulling Cordelia with him into a shadowy corner where they could look at the activity in the bar and watch for anything that might resemble a sign of the approaching apocalypse, he stood frozen as he watched her. Here in this den of iniquity, a playground for everything that was dark & evil, living or undead, she stood out like a Roman candle.
Framed by the glow of the exit sign and the doorway, Cordelia drew the attention of everyone in the room. A moment was all it took to see her through their eyes, knowing just what they were thinking when they looked at her. Cordelia’s blatant beauty was as much a factor as her rapid pulse and the warmth of her living flesh. Her body held the promise of sinful pleasures in every curve, yet an aura of innocence was apparent to those who looked beyond the surface.
Angel could see all of that and understood the temptation she presented. Bringing her here was a mistake, but it was one he would have to accept now that there was no time to get her out of here. He wondered what the hell Giles was thinking when he did not protest Buffy’s suggestion about staking out Willy’s Place tonight. He knew Buffy’s motives. She probably thought that this experience would scare Cordelia into quitting.
Maybe Giles simply thought Cordelia was not going to show. She had been even later than usual. Angel had only himself to blame. After all, he had waited for her, determined to give her a chance. He just had not considered the bait factor. Cordelia took her role as Bait Girl quite seriously, but Angel had not stopped to think of the reasons she filled that role so well.
Not until his conscience forced him to feel guiltily about the direction of those thoughts, or his dick got so hard that he could not ignore it. Angel wanted to make them all bleed for daring to look at her with even a hint of the lust he was feeling right then. Glaring at the salacious crowd, blaming his demon instincts for kicking into overdrive, he stepped even closer to Cordelia, a menacing growl rumbling low across his chest.
“Are you hungry, too?” Cordelia turned her attention away from the bar as she mistook his growling for something else. “I’m sure Willy will have something disgustingly gory for you.”
Angel led her toward the bar, his hand on the small of her back as he glared at random faces in the crowd, warning them off. The territorial vibe thrumming through him made him want to pummel every one of them. Make them understand that Cordelia was under his protection, and nothing was going to happen to her.
Seemingly clueless as to just how vulnerable she was, Cordelia hopped onto a barstool. She patted the one next to her, glancing up at him expectantly, waiting for him to sit down. “Not here,” Angel told her. He wanted a spot that was a bit more defensible, just in case.
Cordelia took the opportunity to glance down the bar where several customers nursed their drinks. These were not ordinary alcoholic beverages. Thick red blood filled one clear glass. Another looked to be a mixed drink with a blood base that was fancifully decorated with a cute little umbrella. Snacks of questionable origin sat on a plate right next to the expected bowl of peanuts.
“This is where you were going to buy me dinner?” Cordelia had a feeling the menu was probably not to her taste.
Obviously, he had not really thought about it. “There’s probably something you can eat.”
Willy stepped up on the other side of the bar. “Peanuts, nachos, chips & bean dip. That’s about it for munchies, folks, unless you happen to be into beetles, cos I got plenty of those pickled in the back.”
“Eew!”
Willy snorted, “Just kidding.”
“Give me an unopened can of peanuts,” Cordelia ordered. Eyeing the open bowl next to her, she wondered what kind of demon fingers had been dipping into it tonight. “Add a bottled water, a clean glass and some ice.”
Nodding, Willy wiped off a glass with his bar towel. Cordelia narrowed her gaze at him until he set it down and picked up a fresh glass from the back of the bar. “A lady who knows what she wants. What’ll it be Angelus? Something special for ya? Got a new batch in just an hour ago. Just need to pop it into the blood warmer. O-pos, A-neg, even AB-positive tonight.”
Blood was blood, but there were subtle nuances in the taste by type, individual factors like health and diet making each donor unique. Angel’s mouth watered at the thought of it. He could almost taste the rich, warm liquid filling his mouth. Human blood was not something he had since his return to Sunnydale. His diet of pig blood was filling, but not as satisfying.
The thought of indulging himself this one time had him running his tongue across the back of his fangs. Why not? “AB-pos.” He could feel Cordelia’s eyes on him as if she was shocked that she would have to watch him drink blood. A flash of irritation hit knowing he would never do this in front of Buffy, but for reasons unknown to himself felt the need to test Cordelia’s reactions.
“That’s a scary coincidence,” Cordelia commented before saying that was her own blood type.
Angel closed his eyes for a moment realizing that he knew that. Back in the hospital, he had seen the label on the bag the nurse was holding as she blocked him from entering Cordelia’s room, telling him that no visitors were allowed. Just the notion that he might have subconsciously connected that knowledge with his choice of a meal made him sick.
“Forget it,” he practically growled at Willy.
“Go get us a table,” Cordelia shooed him away. “I’ll handle the food.”
He was too upset at himself to consider refusing the idea. Angel just needed a minute away from her to center himself again even if it meant leaving her alone up there. Besides, he could see her perfectly well from over here. He glanced down at the two young vampires seated at the table of his choice. “Find another place to sit,” he ordered flatly.
They looked ready to fight him for it until recognition hit. They scrambled to their feet. “W-whatever you say, Angelus.”
Taking a seat in the corner, Angel kept his gaze trained on Cordelia who had Willy hopping from place to place behind the bar. Finally, she had what she wanted and offered up a bright grin of thanks. Wryly noting that the barkeep seemed overly eager to please her, Angel had to admire Cordelia’s talent for coercing people into following her every whim.
He watched her weaving her way through the crowd, arms laden. The bottle of water and the peanuts were tucked under her right arm while she held the glass of ice. In her left, she gingerly held a tall glass of dark liquid about as far away from her body as she could get it. There was a tiny purple umbrella leaning against the edge.
Cordelia put the glass down directly in front of him and then examined her fingers for any accidental drops. Then looking pleased at making the effort on his behalf, told him, “Hope you like it. Drink up.”
“What is it?” Angel asked warily as he removed the little paper umbrella and stared at the small particles floating at the top of the glass.
Cordelia took the time to set the peanuts down and put her own glass on the table. She was opening up the bottled water as she told him, “I’m expanding your taste buds tonight. You normally drink pig, right? Buffy told me once. I think she said it to gross me out.”
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“No problem,” Cordelia shrugged matter-of-factly. “As long as it’s not my neck, I don’t mind.”
Angel sniffed at the liquid still trying to determine what was in it. “I meant that you didn’t have to do this,” he clarified.
“It’s lamb’s blood, so I had Willy add in a little cinnamon he keeps behind the bar for cappuccinos,” she grinned. “Just consider it gourmet.”
Sipping at it, Angel thought he might call it something, but doubted she would want to hear. Still, he supposed it was drinkable.
“Oh, Willy said to tell you he’d put it all on your tab.”
Cordelia was about to sit down when one of the gravlock demons from the next table leaned over to speak to Angel. “Cute little thing, Angelus. Your tastes have changed a bit. For the better, I’d say.”
Whirling around to stare back at the leering demon, Cordelia realized he was not talking about Angel’s nifty drink umbrella. She snapped back so fast, his head must’ve been spinning, “Nosy much? Take your pathetic interests and keep them to yourself.”
“Ooh, a feisty one,” chuckled one of the other gravlocks who could have passed for a human except for the silver eyes and too-wide grin that revealed a long row of tiny chiseled teeth.
Shadowed in the corner, his eyes gleamed gold with dangerous intent. Angel gave them one word of warning, “Enough.” His voice dipped to the level where his anger raged and his patience wavered.
“Just having a little fun with your pet,” the first one raised his mug in salutation. It might have been meant as a distraction as Cordelia felt fingers slithering along her leg.
Cordelia slapped his hand away, “Back off!”
Listening to the laughter of his three companions, the grabby gravlock demon reacted instantly to reclaim a little of the respect he was fast losing amongst his peers. “You ever fuck a real demon? Your boyfriend can watch. Rumors say he’s not so tough anymore.”
Angel stood up so fast that his chair teetered against the floor. None too gently, he shoved Cordelia behind him, concerned with her safety first, but feeling the need to crush the crude bastard’s skull.
“Let’s find out.”
Grabbing the demon by the shirtfront, Angel lifted him up and smashed him back down on the table with enough force to send their cards, poker chips and drinks spilling onto the floor. The other demons launched themselves out of their seats and a raucous cheer went up from the crowd. From behind the bar, Willy yelled out for the bouncer who barreled into the room and held off the other customers from joining in.
Cordelia saw that no one was going to step in to help. Willy was more concerned about the state of his table and chairs while the bouncer appeared to be taking bets. The four gravlock demons were wrestling each other to get at Angel.
Seeing no other choice, Cordelia ran into the fray leaping onto the back of the nearest attacker. “Get off of him, you…you…demon.”
The annoyance was enough for the creature to pull away from the rest of the group attacking Angel narrowing the odds a bit. “Cordelia! What the hell are you doing?” he demanded in between punches.
“Good question,” she groaned when she was tossed back onto a nearby table. “Saving you?”
When the gravlock turned around to face her, she realized it was the grabby-handed one. Her sprawled position gave him an interesting view and he leered openly as he closed the gap between them. “I’d worry about saving yourself, pet.”
Nails digging into the felt top of the poker table, Cordelia scrambled further back. Her ears roared with the rush of blood, adrenalin flowing, and the urge to run taking hold. Reaching out instinctively grabbing at anything she could use to defend herself, her hand connected with the neck of a beer bottle. “I’m nobody’s pet,” she shot back arcing the bottle with a hard swing.
The heavy glass shattered against his head and the demon stood there staring at her too muddled to make a move. Angel was suddenly right there having left his three adversaries in a heap on the barroom floor. Balling his bruised hand into a fist, he sent the gravlock crashing down with a driving punch to his jaw.
All around them, the cheering died down. Apparently, most of the crowd had bet on the demons. The jukebox still played and the sound of Willy’s voice telling his patrons to get back to their drinks made it clear that it was just another routine night at the demon bar.
“You okay?” Angel asked, holding out his hand to help her down from the table.
Nodding, Cordelia smoothed her skirt and tucked her hair behind her ears, “Yeah, I think so.”
The bouncer trudged up to them, scowling at Angel who dug into his pockets and pulled out a couple of folded bills. “Take care of the garbage, would you?”
A grunt of agreement followed much to Cordelia’s amazement as she watched the behemoth tuck the money into his shirt pocket. He grabbed the closest demon by the foot and dragged him to the pile of his unconscious brethren. Then lifting them all at once in an amazing feat of strength carried them toward the exit.
Once they were settled back at their table, amazed to find their drinks still sitting there, Cordelia opened up her bottled water and poured it over the ice. She held the glass up against her flushed cheek and glanced over at Angel half expecting him to look like a thundercloud. She had broken several of his ridiculous little rules as far as she could tell and was waiting for the storm to hit.
Cordelia nibbled on the plump surface of her lower lip, softly catching it between her teeth and releasing it. He just sat there quietly, bruised and battered, looking like he did not care that four— well, three if you did not count the last one— demons had gotten him into a brawl. There was an actual smile tugging at the corners of his split lip.
“Did you get hit in the head?”
Her query caught Angel’s attention. He had been mulling over the way Cordelia handled herself in the middle of the fight. Even before that, he mused, by cowing the demon with her fearless attitude. Unfortunately, his buddies forced him to respond with that foolish threat.
“No,” Angel denied quickly and then ruefully corrected, “not more than once or twice.”
“So what’s with the almost smiling? You never smile,” Cordelia teased, “unless you’re evil.”
There went the smile, replaced by a glum expression that was far more familiar to her. The blood caked at the corner of his mouth was starting to cause her to squirm more than the blood congealing in the glass in front of him. Grabbing a napkin from the metal holder on the table, she dabbed it into her water and then reached out to clean him up.
Angel’s hand curled around her wrist before she could touch him. “Leave it.”
“But—”
“Don’t coddle me, Cordelia,” he rasped in gravelly tones that sent shivers down her skin. “Think about where we are.”
Cordelia sat back as soon as he released her. She supposed that it would not look too good in front of the other demons. A mischievous glint lit her eyes. Teasing him again, “Surely pets are allowed to do a little pampering.”
“That might have been a good front,” Angel pointed out that everyone would have easily accepted it. “Only I seem to recall that you denounced that role rather loudly in front of everyone.”
“Oops?”
Picking up the purple umbrella, Angel twirled it along his thumb and forefinger. Cordelia was far more surprising than he ever imagined. “You’re too independent for that kind of subservience, but I suggest you pretend you’re with me.”
“I am. Duh! Hello, sitting right here,” Cordelia figured his head was still spinning.
Angel leaned closer trying to keep it down so the other bar patrons would not hear. Fortunately, after the fight, there was a space of two tables between them and anyone else.
“I meant with me, Cordelia.” His dark eyes bored into hers with an intensity that defied the softly rasping words until his meaning became quite clear.
“Oh,” she blinked owlishly at the thought. “As long as you don’t expect me to make out with you. A girl’s gotta draw the line of duty somewhere. Unless she happens to be a slayer,” Cordelia tagged on sardonically as soon as the thought hit.
Angel slumped back in his chair. She casually sipped at her ice water until the silence from the other side of the table became too much to bear. “So what’s involved in this pet thing, anyway? I sit here like a meek little mouse and let my big, strong master vampire protect me from the monsters?”
“Pretty much,” he answered ruefully. For their purposes tonight, anyway. Though he had to admit, “I’m beginning to think you do a pretty good job of protecting yourself.”
Cordelia grinned proudly. “I kicked ass tonight. Hah! I’ve been in a bar fight. I can’t wait to tell the others. How long do we have to stay here?”
“Nearly four hours,” he answered after glancing at the clock hanging on the wall behind the bar, “unless we see something sooner.”
“You don’t think those whosiwhatsis demons were the sign we’re looking for, do you?” Cordelia looked toward the exit where the bouncer now stood inside the door keeping an eye out for troublemakers.
Telling her, “No,” he explained that there were specifics written in the scroll that had nothing to do with what happened here. Reminding her, “This is the fire and ice part of the prophecy.”
“Omigod!” Cordelia gasped in sudden horror causing Angel to look around for any sign of danger. She held out her hand for his inspection, showing the chipped nail polish on her fingers. “Ugh! You so owe me a manicure for this one.”
