Chapter 11
Angel was on his feet instantly as he heard someone outside.
“Whoa, hey.” The startled boy jumped back as the door swung open. “Yo, you Angel?” The kid held out an envelope.
Angel snatched the envelope and dragged the boy inside.
“Hey, let go. Don’t worry about the tip.” The boy tried to wiggle out of Angel’s grasp.
“Angel what is it?” Angel pushed the struggling boy towards Wesley as he approached. Wesley grabbed the young man. “Please, we may have some questions.” Wesley turned back to Angel. “Angel?”
Angel ripped open the envelope. Inside was a store bought hallmark card. A large bright red heart graced the cover. Tentatively Angel opened it. A clump of dark hair was securely fitted in the crease. The word ‘soon’ was scrawled on the blank side.
Wesley picked up the card as it fluttered to the ground. He read the word. “Angel. This is good.”
Angel glanced at up at Wesley, his expression unreadable. The dark hair remained pressed between his fingers. He closed his eyes as he brought the cut strands to his nose, breathing in the lingering scent of Cordelia’s shampoo.
“Angel, he is taunting you, dragging this out. He isn’t ready to just kill her. He wants you to suffer.”
“That’s good?” Fred had gotten up to stand next to Wesley. Her fearful expression went from Wesley and Angel.
“It gives us more time to find her.”
“And if he starts sending her body parts.” Angel growled, putting the strands of hair safely in his pocket.
“We will find her before that.” Wesley said with confidence.
“Yes.” Angel said. He would. There was really no other option. “Who hired you?” Angel stalked to the nervous delivery boy.
“I don’t know just some guy. He gave me a fifty to deliver this. I should have asked for more. You guys are nuts.”
“Get out.” Angel growled.
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
“The Beverly Hilton.”
They had momentarily forgotten about the young man at the computer. “He checked out a week ago.” Albert’s smile died at Angel’s stare.
“I’m going.”
Wesley nodded. He knew that Angel had to do something. “I’ll page Gunn tell him to meet you there. I want to read some more. I’ve discovered several passages on spells and possession that maybe relevant.”
Chapter 12
“What are you?” Cordelia struggled up in the bed.
“Here.” Randall handed Cordelia a glass of water.
“I don’t want it. I asked you a question. What?” Cordelia pulled at her arm. “What are you doing to me?” Her question changed as she looked at the IV attached to her arm.
“Counter acting the drug, I originally gave you that’s all. I though you would appreciate being conscious.”
“Appreciate? Appreciate? I WOULD appreciate knowing what the hell you are and why you’ve kidnapped me. That’s what I would appreciate.” Cordelia glared and struggled to sit up at the same time.
“What I am, is just a man who for two centuries has waited for this moment.”
“Two centuries? You’ve waited two hundred years to kidnap, drug and tie me to a bed. That’s insane. And you still haven’t answered my question- what are you? You aren’t a vampire, so what are you?”
Randall got up from the side of the bed. “I was a husband and a father. My family was my everything. My Becca was my life, my heart.”
“Sweet. This has to do with me being taken to dinner, drugged and trussed up, how?”
Randall glared at her biting tone. “Have I been wrong about you? Do you not know what true love is?”
“You’re nuts. Let me go.” Cordelia said.
“That will not be possible. You may not understand the power of true love, but I’m betting that Angel does.”
“Angel? Angel? What have you done?” Cordelia tried to push herself up.
“Nothing yet. But soon, soon I will return his true love to him, just like he returned mine to me.”
“What are you talking about? You are nuts. Buffy is in Sunnydale alive and well. And what does Angel have to do with your wife and kids? Why am I here?”
“He tore my heart out. And now I’ll tear his out.”
“I knew it. You went to one of those Sloggy Doctors. That’s how come you’re not normal.”
“What? No. He killed my family, him and the bitch.”
Cordelia scrunched up her face. “He killed? Bitch? OH. You’re talking about Angelus. Angelus and Darla killed your wife and children. Oh. Sorry. Really, I am, but Angel isn’t Angelus. He has a soul now. He’s good. He’s paying for Angelus’ actions. He’s changed. Now, Darla doesn’t have a soul and she isn’t at all sorry or guilty about the stuff she did. So, if you want to kill anyone, kill her.
“I already have. Her and her ill begotten demon spawn.”
“Oh, well I can’t say I’m sorry about that. She deserved it. But, Angel has a soul, she didn’t.” Cordelia said. “How are you still alive?” Cordelia tried to keep a thought in her head. “What demon spawn?”
“My love has sustained me, my revenge has fueled my actions since the day Angelus tore the still warm heart from my beloved. I have waited 197 years for my revenge.”
“Eww. Sorry, but that didn’t really answer my question. And you can’t kill Angel. Angel has his soul, he’s good.”
Randall smiled. “He won’t die, no he will survive to suffer the ultimate loss, the loss of his true love.”
“Buffy doesn’t do dead real well. So, I wouldn’t count on it. And what demon spawn?”
“Buffy, who’s Buffy?”
“True love, Angel’s true love.” Cordelia tugged at the needle in her arm. Maybe she shouldn’t have told that to Randall. Angel would be mad if Buffy was put in danger. But the slayer was the slayer. Buffy could take this guy. And with Angel’s help Randall would be toast and maybe Cordelia would be saved. “You got the wrong girl. And you still haven’t answered my questions.”
“I don’t think so. No. You are the one. And you will die. Now, I think it’s time for you to sleep again. You talk too much.”
Cordelia scooted away from him. She winced as another needle pierced her flesh. “What demon spawn?” Cordelia mumbled as she fell into unconsciousness, again.
Chapter 13
Angel tried to remember where he was. He wasn’t in the sewers or even Wolfram & Hart, places where he could show his demon face and beat the answers he needed out of the uncooperative. Angel was in a swanky hotel where money went further than threats.
Angel choked on his growl and pushed a wad of money towards the desk clerk.
“Sir, our guest privacy is important here at the Beverly Hilton.” The clerk fingered the money and pushed it back.
“Angel.” Gunn’s hand shot out bringing Angel’s clenched fingers back from the direction of the clerk’s throat. “Man, this is all you get or I let him loose.” Gunn pulled out a few more bills and shoved them and the pile already on the counter towards the clerk.
The clerk studied the casually dressed black man. He pursed his lips.
“I’ll let him loose and I’ll stay in the lobby greeting all your high rolling guest ‘saying Whaz up’ over and over again.” Gunn leaned over counter and smiled. “I won’t even tell them that I’m a rap star. I’ll just whaz up ‘em until they run to the Beverly Hills Hotel, it’s only a half hour away.”
The clerk’s lips disappeared as he put up his nose. He looked again at the dark man in leather. The clerk stepped back bringing a handkerchief to his face. The dark man was handsome but looked like he would get violent any second. The clerk turned to the sweat shirted black man.
He rolled his eyes and looked at the computer. “Randall Montgomery stayed for 7 nights. He was a gentleman. He was polite and well dressed. He caused no disturbances, we were sorry to see him leave. But he had found a place to live.” The clerk’s hand discreetly cupped the money bringing it towards him.
“Where?” Angel’s growl was barely contained.
“Hmm.” The clerk stepped back from Angel the money firmly in his grasp. “That’s all the information.” The clerk turned to Gunn.
The black man smiled. “Really.” Gunn turned away from the clerk, leaning his back on the counter. “Whaz up, hot mama.” Gunn waved to a blue haired woman walking through the lobby.
“Please.” The clerk squealed as the woman gave a scared gasp.
Gunn turned back and shrugged. “Answer the man’s question. He’s the polite one.”
“Mr. Montgomery didn’t leave a forwarding address.” The clerk raised both his hands at Angel’s growl and Gunn’s movement to the middle of the lobby. “He had been showing some interest in the Bel Air area, which is expected from a man of his obvious taste.”
Gunn put his arm out to stop Angel from going over the counter. “Are you sure that’s all you know.”
The clerk stood even further back. “He did spend some time at the bar. But never did he cause a spectacle. He respected where he was. He was a gentlemen.”
Gunn stepped back his expression of disgust barely disguised. “Come on Angel man, let’s go to the bar. Gentleman, my ass. High flying, but gentleman my ass. “ Gunn grumbled.
Gunn suddenly stopped pulling at Angel. “Look man, whatever stuff may be still between us, believe me I want Cordy back safe and sound. And I’m side by side with you for Cordy.”
Angel stood. He didn’t have the time or energy to deal with Gunn. He didn’t care to figure out if Gunn was trying to give reassurance or get reassurance. Angel fought the urge just to throw Gunn against the wall.
Cordelia would be really angry with him if he did that. Angel deflated. He would give anything would do anything to have Cordelia back and yelling at him. And maybe just maybe if he didn’t throw Gunn up against the wall, she would come back.
“I know.” Angel went into the bar, may be he could pound the bartender’s head into the floor.
Gunn watched as Angel’s black coat swirled after the vampire. He shrugged. Gunn wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Gunn started it. He was the one that said out loud that he could never be a friend with the vampire. And the story he had heard just reaffirmed that Angel was a demon and had the capacity to be truly evil.
But then again the vampire that Gunn had heard about was Angel. The vampire that had made bad choices but had also shown great loyalty and concern for those he called his friends.
And Angel had called Gunn his friend. Maybe, Gunn could think of Angel has his friend; maybe he had been wrong to think otherwise. Cordelia and Wesley definitely thought so. They hadn’t said much about it to Gunn, but he had felt their disapproval. Gunn followed Angel.
He would worry about it after the Barbie was back and safe. And the one thing Gunn did know was that Angel would do anything to save the Barbie, and for now that was more than enough for him.
Chapter 14
“Wesley.” Fred fidgeted in the chair next to the former watcher. Wesley looked up from his book.
“Cordelia will be okay won’t she?”
Wesley took his glasses and rubbed them. “Yes.” Wesley couldn’t imagine any other outcome.
Fred nodded her head frantically; her knees were drawn up to her chest. She believed him. Fred could believe him. He wasn’t Angel. Not that she couldn’t believe Angel, but Angel was larger than life, a hero, the hero of fairytales.
Fairytales weren’t real. Wesley was real. And if he said Cordelia was going to fine than she would be. Because what Wesley said was real.
“Cordy is really the heart isn’t she?”
Wesley put his glasses on. The heart of what? The agency? Yes. The heart of Angel? Yes. Wesley nodded.
“Angel really likes her, doesn’t he?”
Wesley stalled. He knew that Fred had a crush on Angel and he didn’t want to hurt her. “Angel and Cordelia have known each other for a long time, they have a connection, she is his seer, they care very much for each other.”
“They love each other.” Fred said.
“They care very much for each other, they have been through a lot together.” Wesley pushed nervously at his glasses.
“No. They really love each other. Angel didn’t go to Plyea to save me. He went to save Cordelia. She was the Princess the hero went to save. Like a fairytale. He’s her knight, not mine.” Fred squirmed in her seat.
“I….yes, well. Angel loves Cordelia. And though, never expressed to me, I imagine she loves him.”
“Of course, she does. Angel’s her hero and he will save her.” Fred got up.
“Fred are you okay?”
“Fairytales are nice, but when I’m not loopy to loop, I’m a physicist. I’m only a little crazy, not stupid. Reality not fairytales is what I want.” Fred smiled. “And though I believe Angel will save her, us realists should help, just to make sure. Because everyone needs a hero and a heart, otherwise, no fairytales.”
“I agree.” Wesley returned Fred’s smile.
Chapter 15
“Angel, Gunn, anything?” Wesley got up as the two men entered the hotel.
“The guy likes revenge as well as expensive stuff. It seems he’s been checking out the poshness of Bel Air.”
“Interesting, large hidden estates.”
“Privacy.” Angel strode to the computer. “Where’s Albert?”
“I sent him home.”
“You what? We haven’t found Cordelia.”
“Angel, it’s 3AM. Randall’s credit card trail ended. There was no more that he could do here. Albert went home to sleep, then he is going to start again only on his own computer.”
“He wasn’t very impressed with ours.” Fred shrugged. “Albert wants to start searching some of the government databases to see if he can find more of history on Randall.”
Angel paced in front of the computer. “Fred, you do know how to use it.”
Fred pushed at her glasses. “Our computer isn’t equipped with the proper components to break through….”
“No. I want you check out the real estate listing for Bel Air. Estates that were for sale or for rent last week.”
Fred smiled happily. “I can do that.” Fred quickly started searching.
“Angel.” Wesley motioned the vampire to the table. “There are very few spells that would account for Randall’s longevity. ..”
“I say the man made a pact with the devil.”
“Yes. That’s a possibility.” Wesley pushed up his glasses.
“I was joking.” Gunn said.
“I wasn’t. There are spells that could be viewed as a pact with the devil. Sell your soul type incantations for long life, power, etc. For example, I imagine Wolfram & Hart’s senior partners have done a few of those spells. But, those spells are fairly constricted.
The person gets the power, wealth but in turn he or she is bound to the dark powers, their ultimate purpose, regardless of whatever bonus the spell gives is the fight for evil, the disruption of good. Randall’s purpose is specific in revenge, it’s not his care or intention to harm Cordelia because she is a link to the powers. That’s merely incidental. No. The means he has utilized was something neither good nor evil, just something magic. And I think I may have found it. “
“What is it?”
Wesley held out a book, pointing to the opened page.
Angel grabbed the book. “Angel, don‘t.” Wesley tried to snatch the book back, only to catch it has it was thrown to the ground. Angel’s growl echoed in the lobby.
“What the hell? Was that a Bible?” Angel held his burning hand.
“My fault. No, sorry. It is however a religious book.” Wesley showed the cover to Angel. The black leather was emblazoned with a bright gold cross. Wesley opened the book again to the page he had marked. It was a picture of the Last Supper. He pointed to the goblet placed before the figure of Christ.
“Christ’s cup? The Holy Grail? Wesley, that’s a myth and even if it wasn’t it is considered a ‘good’ icon, a holy icon, not an ambivalent thing at all.” Angel stood a few feet away and stared at the page.
“Whoa, back up, the Holy Grail? Now I know you’re joking.”
“No. The Holy Grail is a myth, it’s the myth that is good, not the magic of the goblet.”
“It’s the cup of Christ. Christ drank from it at the last supper. It caught his blood at the Crucifixion. It’s holy. “ Wesley raised a brow at Angel.
“What? I wasn’t a vampire always. Like I could ever forget being catechized until I was black and blue. Priest, crosses, churches- It’s not just being a vampire that makes me avoid them.”
Wesley nodded. “I wonder.” Wesley’s expression became contemplative. “A vampire’s reaction to holy water and crosses- You as a human were raised in a Christian household, but what if you had been brought up a Jew or Pagan, those symbols wouldn’t have the same meaning.”
“Interesting theory, write a thesis, later, now just get to your point. Finding Cordelia, if you’ve forgotten.” Angel growled, still holding his injured hand.
“Great; a search for the Holy Grail, why don’t we just call in Indiana Jones.” Gunn sat back down. “Or hell, Monty Python for that matter. AI’s – In Search of the Holy Grail. Wesley, get real.”
“Who are Indiana Jones and Monty Python?”
“Movies. Great ones.”
“I like movies.” Fred smiled, her eyes shining underneath the lenses of her glasses. “Better than The Princess Bride?”
“Damn straight.”
“Really, Gunn. Monty Python is adolescent.”
“It’s damn funny. And you know it, English.” Gunn’s voice rose. “We are the Knights who say ‘Ni’.”
Wesley shook his head in the negative. “We are now the Knights who say…ekki-ekki-ekki-ekki-ptang-zoom-boing-mrowr!”
Fred’s eyes widened as she started to giggle at Wesley’s strange words and exaggerated accent. She jumped as Angel’s fist slammed into the counter.
“Cordelia.” Angel growled.
“Right.” Wesley pushed up his glasses guiltily.
“When the princess gets back safe and sound. We’ll rent it.” Gunn leaned over to whisper in Fred’s ear.
“Promise.”
“Angel will get her back.”
Angel stared at Gunn. He forced air through his dead lungs. “Wesley, talk.”
“ The Holy Grail is a myth, but the goblet- an ancient Celtic cauldron of magic is very real. The Cauldron of Adsagsona. Adsagsona was the Celtic goddess of the underworld and magic. She had the ability to heal and to grant immortality. That’s what I believe Randall must have used to remain alive.”
“Fine. So what’s with the scorching of the vamp?” Gunn rolled his eyes.
Wesley looked sheepishly at Angel. “I’m sorry. Are you all right?”
“Wes, how does this help Cordelia?” Angel ignored his hand. It would be fine soon enough. His thoughts were on his missing seer. The woman he loved and feared for.
“It gives us the means to kill him, if need be.”
“Randall, will die.”
“How come you believe the Cauldron of Adsagsona is real but the Holy Grail isn’t.”
Wesley pushed his glasses up and looked towards Fred, his expression slightly amused.
“Fred, the Holy Grail is just a myth, one of the many made up by Christianity to explain the mysteries of ancient magic. Christianity took on many of the icons and traditions of ‘Paganism’ for lack of a better word. The Church just incorporated them and added to the mysticism surrounding them. The Holy Grail was a vessel for immortality, healing, ultimate knowledge and the search for the divine. The Church added the last part on.
In actual fact it was just a cauldron of magic. One that granted immortality, but as it was Druid in origin, it allows for the immortal to be killed by beheading. The Celts were headhunters; they believed the head to contain the essence of the person to whom they belonged and to be a source of wisdom. Take an enemies head, take their essence.”
“Holy Grail, cup of magic- both sound myth-like to me.”
“No. The Cauldron of Adsagsona is real.” Wesley grabbed another book and pointed to an ink drawing of a simple brass goblet.
Gunn glanced from the drawing to the picture of the Last Supper. “Sure I get it. That old picture in that old book is oh so more credible than the other old picture in the other old book.” Gunn shook his head.
“The Cauldron has been consistently described in several ancient manuscripts. The Holy Grail, on the other hand has had many theories and descriptions proscribed to it over the centuries- a chalice, a stone- even the Arc of Covenant or even the Shroud of Turin. Meaning of course, no one knows, but this.” Wesley pointed aggressively at the drawing of the Cauldron. “Is known- it does exist.”
The growl in Angel’s chest grew in volume and intensity.
Wesley coughed, once again aware of Angel’s impatience. “Yes, well. I believe that beheading will kill him.”
“That option would have been explored.” Angel said lowly. “What is important is WHERE IS CORDELIA?”
The other members of the Angel Investigations winced at Angel’s shout.
Wesley removed his glasses once more. “I don’t know.” He slumped into his chair.
Fred fidgeted. “I’ll go back to the real estate listing.” She scooted hurriedly back to the computer on the desk.