Part 18
“Anything?” Angel placed the folded charred blanket on the nearest chair.
Wesley just shook his head, his eyes still on the book in front of him.
Angel bit down his growl going into the kitchen. He gulped a cup of blood before going back out.
“Cordelia’s security in non-existent granted, but I didn’t smell or sense anyone in that room except us. One unfamiliar smell, but it was older- talc powder with a hint of …ben-gay …lemon polish and … chilies- all over the house.” Angel lifted his head.
“I’m saying that it was Marie, Cordy’s maid. No one was there, so how’d the bastard leave the letter ” Angel paced the room.
Wesley’s head shot up, blinking. The vampire was animated and angry surely, but he was also coherent with logical questions and train of thought. “Still no vision?”
“No.” Angel shook his head. His growl was full of frustration that he would have one before the danger to Cordelia had been dealt with. He had to stay sane until then. Nothing could happen to her. She trusted him.
“I can not find the meaning to these words. I do believe that they are evidence that the Cordelia’s stalker is from another dimension.”
“Gunn said as much upsetting Cordy,” Angel glared in disapproval.
“Yes, well.” Wesley shoved his glasses. “I may have an idea, though. Little out of the box, but…”
“What.” Angel stood.
“A while back, you had a vision- one of a young girl missing, dark hair, glasses, in the university library with a book and a portal.”
Angel shook his head.
“Yes, unfortunately, you probably don’t remember, we never found the woman. The vision was not completed and you were incapacitated longer than usual.”
“Wesley,” Angel’s voice choked with sorrow and anger.
“At the same time, our services were needed by an the owner of a Karaoke/Sanctuary bar. It’s seems that a Drokken, a dimensional demon, came through a portal in his club. We were able to kill that particular demon with the help of a warrior from its dimension that ended up being Lorne’s, the client, cousin or something. Actually, you’ve met him. Lorne I mean, he’s an anagogic psychic demon- I asked him to read you after I realized his talents. He got nothing of use, but then again,as I said you were very incapacitated.” Wesley shrugged.
“Wesley,” Angel growl was now just exasperation.
“Yes, well, see, Gunn, Lorne and I, went to the library, the coincidence of your vision and the Drokken seeming too much. Lorne was most uncooperative, but he did help in the end. Anyway, we found book and it did open a portal and it brought Landok, Lorne’s cousin. No dark-haired girl of your vision though. It could very well be she was shown only to get us to the library and the book. Landok was pivotal in killing the Drokken.”
“Wesley, do you have a point.” Angel continued to pace, his gait getting more aggressive.
“I suggest taking the notes to Lorne. His enterprise houses various demons and information. He could help.”
“Why are you still here?”
“Because this was a conclusion I came to only five minutes before you arrived.” Wesley stood.
“Oh.”
“There is a sewer route if you wish to accompany me.” Wesley was slightly amused at the sheepish look that came over the vampire. Wesley studied Angel. Was this the real Angel? He hadn’t seen this in Sunnydale and definitely not when Wesley came across the vampire in LA struggling with his inner demons, guilt, sorrows and visions.
Angel looked down at his formal wear. “Give me a minute.” Angel went to the his room.
Wesley gave a slight smile and answered the phone as it rang.
Angel stood in the doorway taking in the contents of the room. One bare mattress strewn on the floor, iron manacles hanging from the ceiling, barred windows….Angel looked again. Wesley must have fixed the window. Dark heavy shades and a make shift closet…or rather boxes filled with clothing. Angel shook his head. Barren and alone, that had been him- but now he wanted more, even bright windows filling with sunshine that could kill him. He wanted a life rather than this prison. Angel strode to the boxes pulling out dark clothes, heading to the bathroom to take a shower. The room disgusted him.
Wesley hung up the phone, staring at the instrument as if it was a two-headed beast that needed to be dissected.
“Who was that?” Angel returned to the living room clothed now in all black.
“Cordelia.” Wesley said still staring at the phone.
“Cordy, why didn’t you get me? Is she all right? What’s wrong? Where’s Gunn? We’ve got to go.” Angel grabbed at the leather coat hanging by the door.
“Angel. Angel,” Wesley said again louder. “Cordy’s fine, she’s at the studio and Gunn’s with her.”
“Then…”
“She called to ask what your favorite blood type was.” Wesley took off his glasses and contemplated the vampire.
“Uh?” Angel’s coat fell to the floor as his jaw gapped.
“Yes. It seems that she has decided that if you are to come back over to protect her this evening, you should be able to have dinner. She said it was only fair since you cooked her breakfast, she wants to cook for you.”
“Cordelia wants to cook my blood?” Angel’s jaw dropped even further.
“Do I even have to comment on how truly disturbing this whole conversation is?”
Angel tried to shake the thought of Cordelia in his shirt…watching blood warm…It was surreal. “What did you tell her?”
Wesley took a deep breath and deadpanned. “That you liked Chinese.”
“What?” Angel glared.
“Angel, I told her not to worry about it. You would eat before you came over. However that didn’t quite satisfy her, she was worried that you would…”shrivel up and waste away like some poor Ethiopian child that had to live on a dollar a day”, I quote. I explained that vampire’s can’t starve and that you would be fine, but to avoid any more possible whining take some blood with you this evening, otherwise, you will be trying to keep her out of every demon blood shop in LA.”
“I don’t want her too see me drink blood.”
“She doesn’t seem to mind.” Wesley deadpanned again.
“Cordelia wanted to make me dinner.” Angel was still amazed. No one ever wanted to touch his blood.
“Euphemisms won’t help. The image of blood cooking is still prevalent. Angel, just what happened between the two of you? I know Cordelia or thought I did at least. All things, demon and bloody were not on her top ten. Money, style, status, and looks pretty much filled up her list of wants and needs. I can’t see that changing much now that she’s a TV star.”
Angel narrowed his eyes. “Cordelia is not superficial.”
“Angel, you do remember that you barely know the woman, except as a teenager that was associated, by a thin thread, to Buffy.”
“I know who she is,” Angel growled. “Where’s this demon we need to go see.”
Part 19
“Howdy, stalwart leadermando of Angel’s Investigation,” the green demon in an eye-hurting bright purple suit bobbed to Wesley. “And helllooo, tasty cake, love your coat and you’re standing.”
Lorne’s eyes shot back to Wesley. “His aura’s looking mighty fine. Almost….not bad. Damn, you can wear leather,” Lorne cocked a head back to Angel. “We’ve met, but you were doing the ‘I so want to beat my head on the padded walls thing’. Eek, Sweetcakes, got bite,” Lorne jumped back at Angel’s growl.
“Lorne, we need you’re help,” Wesley interrupted.
“My vibes are your vibes, after all you did rid my club of that nasty portal to the hell dimension of all dimension- no music.” The green demon shivered. “Is it the leather bound hottie? Have him sing, I’ll try again.”
“No.” Wesley shoved some papers to the demon. “Have you ever seen these words before?”
Lorne shrugged reading the notes.
Both Wesley and Angel looked on in interest, as the green demon got greener.
“You have.” Wesley yanked the papers back.
“Where did you get those?” Lorne searched from Wesley and Angel.
“A friend of ours has been receiving these notes.”
“The words, what do the mean, you obviously recognized them, tell us, what dimension are they from are they from yours. What?” Angel moved his voice cold and insistent, overriding Wesley’s explanation.
“Whoa, big guy, Okay. Um.” Lorne licked his cherry lips. “They’re Plyean- Kye-rumption- when two great heroes meet in the field of battle and recognize their mutual fate…or the eloquent, NOT, writer is comparing ‘your friend’ to a kind of grog made from Yox-dung. He’ll win no hearts with that archaic definition, so I’m going with choice A. As for Moira- gut physical attraction between two larger that life souls. Guys, whoever wrote these tidy words has put your ‘friend’ on a very high pedestal, very high, mythic, Ike and Tina high, okay, he beat her and was an abusive son of a bitch but they sounded great together.” Lorne shrugged. “And my fellow dimension- man may just be another Ike or not, I don’t know.”
“Who is he?” Angel growled.
Lorne held up his hands and scooted behind Wesley. “I don’t know, Sweetcakes. No body from my backwater town has come through since my very distant unwanted cousin and he went back. Anybody else, I don’t know about.”
“Can you help us at all?” Wesley asked calmly.
“Wasn’t I just?” Lorne rolled his eyes. “Fine. A friend of mine, Aggie, has sensed some wavering and spouts in the dimensional framework recently. How ‘bout I give you her address.”
***
“Wesley.”
“Angel.” Wesley hands gripped on the steering wheel. He did not like the vampire’s tone.
“Wesley, we have the book, we know now what dimension….Why aren’t we opening the damn thing and going.”
Wesley took a deep breath. “Angel, going into an unknown dimension is ludicrous and potentially suicidal.”
“It’s Cordelia.”
“No, Angel. It’s Cordelia’s stalker-maybe. Cordelia is safe here with Gunn. No reason to traipse off risking god knows what. If Cordelia was actually taken, well then, that’s a whole different consideration. But she’s not. We stay on this side of the dimensional wall. If the stalker is in this Plyea- who cares- as long as he doesn’t hurt her- if he’s here than we’ll find him.”