The funeral was as unorthodox as Beverly Quinn herself: a midday ceremony under the full California sun at the site of a recent earthquake. Attendees came by the dozens, most because they loved Bev. Churchgoers, bingo buddies, and a few silver-haired men who looked crushed by their loss.
Cordelia did not know half of them, but they all seemed to know her. The funeral went by in a blur. The pastor spoke. The parishioners prayed. Wearing her best black dress, she kept her expression cool and her eyes hidden behind a pair of impenetrably dark sunglasses.
These people didn’t know how much she had come to love her grandmother in the short time she had known her. They were not going to see her cry. Not now. Not ever.
Numb, she never felt the tears falling.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…” the words spun around in her head.
Draped in white lilies and orchids, the coffin slowly lowered into the ground. Cordelia watched it sink down taking a step forward when it descended beyond her immediate sight. Her grandmother was inside that coffin, and she was never going to see her again. It was not right, or fair. She felt robbed of something precious, in a way that was so far beyond the way she felt when the IRS took possession of her car, her family home, her life of luxury.
Faith and Xander flanked her on each side. He held her hand offering silent comfort and support at a time when his usual jokes were out of place. He did not bother complaining when she squeezed too tight.
Willow did not bother to hide her tears. She carried extra Kleenex in the pocket of her dress and snuck one to Wesley who was trying to make it look like the sun was in his eyes. He had never met Bev when she was alive, but he came to the funeral anyway, not only to support Faith’s friend, but because he knew his slayer carried a load of guilt over Beverly Quinn’s death.
Giles stood next to Willow, dry-eyed, but sad in his countenance. His arm was draped across her shoulder supportively. He was lost in thought wondering what kind of woman she was based on the one occasion he met her, her vivacity, the similarities to Cordelia, the responsibility he felt for her death because of Faith’s involvement and connection with the mayor.
Despite all of the support, the one person Cordelia wanted at her side was not able to be there. The daylight held Angel captive back at the mansion. They had planned it like this in order to keep vampires away knowing that some could linger in daytime shade and withstand indirect light. The earthquake had left the church in ruins. Its crumbling walls could not offer enough shade for any daring interloper.
Knowing that vampires were not the only potential threat to Cordelia, and that everyone would have their attention focused on the funeral rather than defense, Buffy volunteered to patrol the cemetery grounds just in case of a surprise attack. These vampires used a demon mercenary to track Cordelia down at the Quinn residence, so there was no telling what strategy they might try on their next attempt at kidnapping her for their sacrificial ceremony.
Fortunately, all was quiet. The service went smoothly. Buffy noticed nothing too out of place. The Sunnydale Gazette had a reporter and photographer hanging out waiting to snap shots of the funeral and its attendees. Beverly Quinn might have lived on the poor side of town, but she had a Chase family connection. Then, there was the whole crazy conflict with the mayor about the Bingo Parlor that had been making waves in senior citizen circles in town. It was enough for a story in the local paper.
One by one the people scooped up shovels full of dark earth. It hit the coffin lid and scattered, weighing down the flowers that had been so beautifully arranged on top. Cordelia watched them go by, shook their hands as they offered their condolences and responded without really hearing herself speak.
A firm hand took hers and a familiar voice snapped her out of the haze that had seeped inside her. “My dear Miss Chase,” Mayor Wilkins clasped his other hand over hers. “Your grandmother was a fine woman. Such a shame. Such a loss for our fair community.”
Cordelia tried to pull her hand out of his tight grasp, but the mayor held on until the news cameras finished snapping their photos. She had mixed feelings when it came to this man. He was Bev’s enemy, her opponent in the Bingo debate. Yet, when asked, he had gone out of his way to cut through the red tape so the burial could take place here next to her grandfather’s grave.
She supposed that she owed him something. “Thank you.” Maybe that would be enough.
He gave her a charming smile. Too charming. As if he believed he had her in his corner. Smarmy political man thought he was earning her vote now that Bev would not be in the race for the mayor’s office next fall.
Mayor Wilkins hung around, although his attention turned to Faith. He pulled her aside, whispering something into her ear. Cordelia would have tried to eavesdrop but she was too busy staring at the man in the mayor’s entourage who stepped up next.
First impressions suggested wealth and power, someone used to being in control. An inch or so taller than Angel, he was dressed in a hand-stitched black suit accented with silver threads. Ostentatious taste, but stylish even if he looked completely out of place. Curling black hair teased his forehead, being cropped shorter in the back to match his neatly trimmed beard. He was beautiful in a dark exotic kind of way.
Cordelia dragged her sunglasses down looking at the stranger without the barrier of the dark lenses. Her breath hitched when he also removed his sunglasses so that his eyes caught hers, intent, and looking so deeply it felt like a caress. It felt a little too personal, yet it was hard to look away. He was not going to offer a handshake and a mere nod of commiseration before moving on, she realized. He lingered moving closer into her space.
Wondering where on Bev’s list of church members, bingo buddies, activist pals, and very close friends and neighbors this man belonged, Cordelia felt her skin tingle as his hand curled around hers. Smooth skin warmed by the sun slid across her palm as his thumb brushed softly across the flesh between her thumb and forefinger. She wanted him to let go, but the only reaction that came to mind was ‘pardon my drool’ as the corners of his sensual lips curled higher.
Momentarily, she seemed to lose the ability to form words, and simply gazed into those darkly lashed eyes like he was the only man on Earth. Swirling around in the back of her mind was the fact that she was in love with Angel and therefore should not be drooling over hot, rich, well-dressed strangers at her grandmother’s funeral. No doubt some code of conduct was being broken, but pfft!
“My condolences, Miss Chase,” he spoke formally. The unmistakably foreign accent was unknown to her. Not French or Italian. Something sexy, though, she mused with a little smile, just enjoying the way his mouth formed words. “Your grandmother had many friends.”
Next to her, Xander challenged him, “Were you one of them?” his voice snapping her out of her study of the stranger’s olive skin and slashing cheekbones. Wait. Xander? It took a moment for Cordelia to realize that Xander had been standing by her side all along. He had asked something about Bev.
Answering by the simple inclination of his head and pursed his lips, told them he had not had the privilege. “You might say she and I had one common interest.”
His gaze drifted across her skin like crawling spiders, no longer naturally seductive, but almost possessive causing Cordelia to cringe. She quipped, “Bingo?” and tried to take a step back.
Hot he might be, but this was not the time or place for flirtation. Who was this guy? She knew there were no European boy toys in her grandmother’s life, but his words baited her into keeping the conversation going instead of having Faith toss him out on his ass.
Mouth twisting in amusement, he answered, “No. I am but a guest of your mayor. We were conducting business today and he wished to be here to show his respects. I also offer mine.”
“City Hall is a busy place these days,” she said suddenly thinking that Willow’s spell had not gone wrong. Maybe he was a human minion of the Solarian vampires doing their bidding during the daytime hours, although he definitely did not seem like the minion type. “New people coming and going.”
So much for a sunny, midday funeral keeping the bad people away. Sunnydale was not exactly a vacation spot for visiting foreign dignitaries. The odds that he was connected with Nicolau Cibran and Isobel, or at least involved in the plot to sacrifice her to their demon god, seemed fairly good.
Cordelia glanced toward Faith, who was still standing with Mayor Wilkins, expecting her to have pulled a stake or dagger from a hidden leg strap beneath the skirt of her new black dress, but she was too busy staring at the mayor’s European guest. Maybe Faith was close enough to sense the creepy vibes that quickly detracted from his looks and helped Cordelia to fend off the effects of his charismatic charm, but if so, she made no move against him.
Instead, Faith seemed rapt with interest. Eye candy of the tasty variety he might be, but a little attention to her bodyguard duties seemed appropriate. Cordelia nudged Xander with her elbow. He glanced toward Faith, and saw what she did. The slayer looked pale, stunned, and confused. Maybe it had something to do with Mayor Wilkins hand gripping her upper arm as he whispered something in her ear.
Buffy had obviously overlooked the guy on her rounds, although how anyone could miss such a gorgeous man was a mystery. Maybe she had just dismissed him as being a part of the group from City Hall. There was no sight of her at the moment, which meant she was probably on the outskirts of the cemetery during her rounds.
Looking into his eyes made her feel completely at ease. Even though her mind swirled in suspicion that he was only there for her and not as the mayor’s elegantly polite foreign visitor, Cordelia felt no fear. Turned on was more like it. Every word he spoke felt like a little caress.
That was so wrong in so many ways, even if he was a hottie. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong man. Yet, she could not bring herself to make him leave by screeching, “Get out of here, you pretentious bastard!” Not because it was her grandmother’s funeral and the paparazzi hovered nearby, but the feeling that he would not want a scene held her back.
Giving him what he wanted seemed important. Cordelia felt a buzz of excitement as he said, “I will be here for some time.”
Yeah, but why would she want that? This man was out of place. He did not belong here. A neon sign flashing above his head could not be more obvious. Yet, she wanted to jump for joy, even though she knew the feeling was insane. “Lucky me.” It should have come out as a sarcastic stab, but sounded breathy and flirtatious even to her ears.
Still standing next to her, and gaping throughout the whole exchange, Xander did not bother to tell her she was crazy. “I’m getting Giles.” He stalked past Faith giving her a pissed off stare. Muttering, “Stupid hormones.”
Gathered together in a small group, Giles, Wesley, and Willow idly listened in as several locals talked about their favorite Beverly Quinn memories, or gossiped about the Chase family, wondering about the whereabouts of Cordelia’s parents during this sad occasion. Most had no idea of the connection between the Quinn family and the Chases. A few wondered at the nature of her untimely death, and voiced concerns about the murderer who had apparently escaped police custody.
It was interesting to them to hear the reaction to the mayor’s public spin on demonic activity. Whatever deal he had with the editor of the Gazette kept a tight lid on the truth about the Hellmouth.
Left alone, albeit within Faith’s line of sight, Cordelia felt butterflies swirling around in her stomach. Schizophrenic butterflies at that. Part of her was thrilled to have this man’s full attention, but some other part told her it was wrong. So wrong. She had no business being interested in him. He might be hot, but this was creepy.
Some of the sparkle faded from his eyes. “Luck plays no part in your future, Miss Chase. Your fate is already decided.”
A jolt shot across her nerves at those words. The happy little buzz she had found in his presence vanished instantly. Mortified by her behavior, she demanded answers, “Who are you?”
Those sexy lips curled into a hint of a smile again. “Let that be my secret for today, Miss Chase. You will know soon enough, if indeed you do not already sense the truth.”
There were no other people within hearing distance. “I sense a load of crap when I hear it. Don’t play games with me. I assume you’re supposed to be some kind of threat.”
Amused by her directness, he indulged her with an answer. “On the contrary. You are a most precious commodity.”
This guy’s creep factor was getting creepier by the second. Cordelia did not like his tone as he added, “If I wished you harm, we would have no need for conversation.”
“So you’re not trying to talk me to death?” She crossed her arms, eyes smoldering with anger.
“That would be a waste. There are far more exciting methods to achieve that outcome if I were allowed to indulge myself.” Only her defiance prevented her from flinching as his fingers captured a strand of hair to slide down its silken length. “Alas, you must sacrifice all that you are so that my people will reap the rewards promised us.”
Cordelia enjoyed breaking the bad news. “Maybe you should just tell your boss not to waste his time. I’m no longer a virgin.” He was obviously in on the whole demon ritual plan. From the way he spoke, he was probably Nicolau Cibran’s chief human lackey. She figured she could take the direct approach to avoid becoming a sacrifice by telling him she no longer qualified.
Momentary confusion at her statement gave way to amusement. “With Angelus as your protector I am unsurprised, my beautiful Varstrae. Although I would welcome you both to my bed, I doubt he will accept the invitation. He is so possessive of his playthings.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” she quipped, finding it hard to ignore the disturbingly sexy images his words created.
His good humor continued as he confirmed one of Giles’ theories on the matter. “Your virginal state or lack thereof has nothing to do with your status as one of the Pure. I find it quaint that you would think we would require such a sacrifice.”
“Of your sacrifices?” The irony did not escape her notice.
“Precisely,” he nodded her due. Looking at her as though he was trying to determine the reason for his own interest, he commented, “You are quite insightful.”
Cordelia liked to think she had good instincts. Right now, hers were screaming at her to pay attention. Hot Minion Guy was not acting in a minion-like manner. Or, at least, what she imagined that to be, giving deference to his master every sentence or two, invoking Nicolau Cibran’s name like there was no one else on the planet.
No, he was Mister Superior Attitude instead. The extra machismo might be explained by being foreign. If he were not standing in the noonday sun, it would be an easy leap to guess that he was a vampire, not that he was just in cahoots with one.
It was a crazy thought because…hello, sunshine!
Faith had not tackled him to the ground, nor had Buffy appeared out of nowhere to stake him with Mr. Pointy, so it seemed that he was not setting off any Vampire Slayer senses. His weird vampire vibes had to be more like vampire wannabe vibes. Right? Cordelia was not entirely convinced, especially because he would not reveal his identity. She was torn between wanting to find out more, and screaming for backup. The latter was definitely her favorite option, but for some reason she could not seem to remember how to call for help.
“I see no visible marks.” Those dark eyes slid like silk across her skin, focusing on her neck and wrists. The wet tip of his tongue dashed briefly across the seam of his mouth, reminding her of Angel. Asking, “Where does he like to bite you?” as if doing so was a foregone conclusion.
“That is so none of your business, bucko.” It also seemed like a strange question for any man, even one that was a vampire’s minion.
The golden ring on his finger glinted in the sunlight as he pressed his manicured hand against his chest as a sign of his good intentions. “Forgive me. This is not the time to talk of such pleasure, but I look forward to the occasion when we may do more than talk.”
Quivering at the timbre of his voice as he leaned close again, Cordelia was not quite as disturbed by his words as she wanted to be. Not that she would ever want anyone other than Angel. It was just the way he made it sound as natural as breathing, a foregone conclusion. Although, he was confusing her by making it sound like he was going to be dealing with her and Angel directly rather than his master, Nicolau.
Reaching out, he lifted her hand with his fingertips, gave a little bow and briefly pressed his lips to her skin. Once again, Cordelia found it difficult to move away. There was just something about being within a certain proximity that did something to her head. If not for the sunglasses being in her hand, she would have reached up to touch him.
Seeing them, she swiftly slid them back over her eyes. “Enough with the kissing.”
“Your friend returns with reinforcements. I must go.”
Cordelia could see Giles and the others making their way around the gravesite to where they stood. So far, the man had done nothing to cause a scene, and she did not want to create one. Any other time she would be totally up for sending one of the slayers after him for a little information gathering torture session.
Not today. She just wanted him out of there. “Don’t let me stop you.”
Nicolau’s fingers traced her cheek just briefly enough that she had no time to pull away. He tucked his sunglasses back into place covering those mesmerizing black eyes. “Take solace in your lover, Cordelia. When Kalesh is through with you even he will not be able to hold you back from destiny’s reach.”
Long strides carried him across the green lawn toward the corner of the church parking lot where a shiny black BMW was parked. He was already closing the car door behind him when Giles put a hand on her shoulder, nearly giving her a heart attack. “Ack! Giles, you shouldn’t sneak up on a girl that way.”
“We have been standing here for the past twenty seconds trying to get your attention,” he revealed.
Xander stopped snapping his fingers in front of her face, and pulled his hand back to his pants pocket. “What was up with that dude? I didn’t like the way he looked at you.”
“That’s because he was—,” stopping mid-revelation Cordelia’s eyes went wide as her boss appeared right in front of them. “Oh! Hi, Mrs Finkle.”
Giles realized that Cordelia had been about to say something important and he did not want to have to wait to hear the news. He greeted the woman with great brevity, and then suggested the events of the day had been overtiring. “Perhaps it is time we get you home.”
It was too late to come to her rescue now. Shrugging his hand away, she huffed, “Don’t be rude, Giles. I have not even talked to Mrs. Finkle yet.”
“Let me offer my condolences, Cordelia.” Everyone knew Bev, even Mrs Fink. She was part of the whole Bingo Parlour plot against the mayor. If anyone was likely to take up her grandmother’s mantle and continue to fight for her cause, it was probably Mrs Fink. There were real tears in her eyes and just a tinge of anger as her glance slid toward the mayor as he passed by with Faith.
Cordelia had her eye on them, too. They paused near the closest headstone. The mayor tilted Faith’s jaw up a notch with the knuckle of his index finger. “Chin up, Faithy. Keep smiling.”
He made it sound like friendly advice to a young woman whose friend had just lost her grandmother, but there was a hidden message passing between them Cordelia could not interpret. The mayor had been talking to Faith even longer than she had been speaking his guest. She wondered what that was all about and if Faith had any plans to cough up the 411.
Buffy jogged up just as Mrs Finkle strolled away. “The grounds look secure. No signs of trouble.”
“Duh! Because trouble has already had its up close and personal conversation with me before driving away in his car,” Cordelia propped her hands on her hips and waited for an explanation.
Buffy glanced around. “Did I miss something?”
“Creepy guy,” said Xander being helpful. “I think he was hitting on Cordy.”
“Bad timing, but since when is that something new? Guys hit on her all of the time. Even when they’re not supposed to,” Buffy added with a huff getting in that one Angel-related stab as if she could not stop herself from saying it.
“Normally, I would adore gorgeous expensively dressed men with sexy foreign accents flirting with me,” Cordelia readily admitted, “but not this one— or you two, of course.”
Red tinged Wesley’s cheeks as he ventured into the conversation with a query. “What kind of accent?”
“Gali-whatsis, of course.”
“Galician? That man was Galician?” Wesley took a couple of awkward steps toward the parking lot as if he planned to run after him, or fall flat on his face.
Returning just in time, Faith caught him by the arm saving from a nasty fall. “Mayor Wilkins says he’s a foreign dignitary.” Her jaw tightened up afterward as if she wanted to say more, but had to force herself to hold back.
“Here in Sunnydale?” Buffy was instantly suspicious— about ten minutes too late.
“Great observation skills, Slayers. Zero for two today.” Cordelia was pretty certain that Mr. Tall, Dark and Bearded could have tossed her over his strong shoulder and carried her off before either Buffy or Faith had even noticed. Irked, she let them all put forth their own theories before interjecting.
“Maybe he’s a minion!” Willow seemed excited by the idea.
Xander chuckled as he named the infamous minion of Dracula from the movies, “Was his name Renfield?”
“This is not a joking matter,” Wesley admonished him sending Xander’s happy grin into hiding. “If this foreigner was indeed a Solarian minion, he could easily have been here at his master’s bequest. He might have been here to kidnap her.”
Faith blew off the idea. “In broad daylight with the paparazzi here? That would make a few headlines.”
“Hmm,” Wesley thought about it. “Perhaps today was more about gathering information than taking action. If indeed he is connected to the clan or its cause.”
“Who, him? Nah!” Faith told him he was barking up the wrong tree. “He’s just a nutcase I met at City Hall last week. Delusions of grandeur. No one to worry about.”
Buffy seemed to think it was strange that Faith never mentioned it. “How can you be so sure?”
“The mayor said so.”
Stunned, Buffy had to repeat the words just to be certain that Faith had said them. “The mayor said so. And you believed it?”
Faith shrugged.
Buffy was not finished. “We’re supposed to be keeping tabs on the newbies in town. This guy didn’t seem suspicious? What were you thinking?”
“That he was pretty hot for a nutcase.”
Several groans sounded all around.
“Ahem,” Giles cleared his throat. “Whether or not this man has delusions of grandeur, it does not rule him out as a potential threat. Daring to confront Cordelia directly suggests that he is part of an agenda.”
Willow seemed fascinated by the whole subject, as if she was taking notes in class. “So, you really do think he’s enthralled by the vampires?”
“Let’s not talk about thralls,” Xander muttered dipping his head low and scraping one shoe back and forth across some loose dirt in the grass.
“It is relevant,” countered Wesley. “Very few vampires possess the ability to enthrall humans. Like any other skill, it must be practiced, usually over the course of centuries. Or, in Drusilla’s case, the vampire must possess….”
“The crazy factor?” Buffy cut in with a quip.
“Naturally occurring extrasensory perception,” finished Wesley becoming quite used to being interrupted.
Giles was not completely surprised by the notion that Nicolau Cibran might have that ability, or that the human minion acted out of free will. “The Solarians live in secret due to the support of the local people. The human populace also worships demons. It would seem they have sent a representative, whether or not he is enthralled to the clan.”
“Nice theory, but you’re wrong,” Cordelia said quietly having convinced herself that the impossible was true.
“Go on,” encouraged Wesley.
Cordelia merely shook her head turning her attention back to her grandmother’s grave, where the coffin lay half-covered in dirt, and three groundskeepers hovered at its edge waiting to finish the job. The pastor came over to say a few final words before leaving. Cordelia heard him, but the words did not really sink in.
“But—“
“Give her a minute,” snapped Faith when he would have pressed for more information.
It was all kind of surreal. The drive back to the mansion was the same, mostly a blur. Xander sitting by her side, holding her hand. Willow sitting next to him like always. Giles driving. Buffy riding shotgun. No one talking. Silence.
She got out of the car, anxious to get inside and fall into Angel’s arms, even though her body felt like it was moving in slow motion. Before she could climb the stone steps, the front door opened. Angel was standing there too close to the sliver of sunlight angling in from above, just as anxious to know how things went and whether she was okay.
Wes’ motorcycle pulled up right behind them. “Stay out of my business,” yelled Faith as she yanked the helmet off her head and dropped it to the ground. They had argued the entire way from the cemetery. She looked around at everyone staring in her direction, “Shit,” then darted up the steps shoving past Angel to get inside making a beeline for the basement.
“On the contrary,” Wesley followed right behind her, walking swiftly, his back as stiff as a board, “as your watcher, every decision you make is my business.”
This time, Angel moved out of the way. When Cordelia finally reached him, he pulled her aside to let the others file past. “What’s going on?”
Cordelia sucked in a deep breath, held it for a moment, letting it out as a heavy sigh. “A whole lot of trouble.”
“Some minion dude was flirting with Cordy,” Xander told him as he walked by.
“What?”
Buffy told him, “No worries. No kidnapping to thwart this time. Just a lot of talking from what I hear.”
Tension twitched in his jaw as Angel clenched his teeth in reminder that he should ask for details before biting her head off. Buffy was supposed to keep Cordy safe. “You let one of Nicolau’s minions get within talking distance?”
Willow patted his arm reassuringly. He flashed her an annoyed look that made her back away with her hands raised. “Sorry,” she whispered and high-tailed it behind Buffy.
“I was patrolling the grounds,” Buffy told him. “Ask your girlfriend for the scoop because she has all of the juicy details and has been holding out so she can tell you first.”
Angel glanced down at Cordelia who had one hand on his chest as he held her close, and the other soothingly rubbing his back. She tilted her face to his and waited until he gave her a quick kiss, smiling at him after he did so. That was just a nice little pick-me-up after a long, crazy day, and she so deserved it.
Plus, it gave her a little thrill when she realized that for the first time, Buffy Summers verbally acknowledged that Angel was now her boyfriend. Maybe it was a good sign that the day could only get better from here on out. Fingers crossed.
“We should probably all be together,” Cordelia said while threading her fingers through his. “Giles and Wes really need to hear this because I really can’t explain how it is even possible.”
Willow whispered to her, “What about Spike and Dru?”
Without hesitation, Cordelia shook her head. “Let them sleep. Angel will have to figure out how to tell them.”
Walking beside them Willow’s brow creased with her frown. “That sounds ominous,” she gulped.
“Pretty much.”
Cordelia paused at the basement doorway where Xander waited for Willow to catch up. Tapping Angel on the arm, she remembered that she wanted to show them something. “Oh, I need to grab a pen and some paper. I don’t need your sketch pad. Just a scrap.”
Angel apparently had no intention of leaving her side until he heard more of what was going on. He signaled Xander to head to the study to get what she asked for.
While on his way, Xander complained loudly, “Why am I always fetching and carrying around here?”
No one answered him. They were too busy following Cordelia down to the basement where Faith was doing terminal damage to a punching bag despite the fact that she was still dressed for the funeral. This was worse than she thought. Her crazy theory would have to wait a minute.
Faith had been acting weird ever since her little sidebar with Mayor Wilkins. Something was going on with her and it gave Cordelia the wiggins. The slayer was not the only one down there. She realized that Giles had gone straight down, following the slayer and his younger counterpart. He was huddled in a corner with Wesley having a very quiet, and seemingly serious conversation. It stopped the moment they spotted her.
“I hate it when people do that,” Cordelia complained. “Are you talking about me or just keeping secrets in general? No, don’t bother answering. Out of my way. I need to talk to Faith.”
The rhythmic beat of fist against leather stopped as Faith turned around looking pissed off, defiant, and somewhat sweaty. This was not exactly the homecoming Cordelia had planned for today. A relaxing bubble bath and sympathetic snuggling were not on the horizon at the moment.
“Go ahead, Cor, but they should hear this. I am their business, after all, so they say. Did I mention that I fucking hate being played?”
Giles lifted his glasses and rubbed his eyes before responding. “There is no need for that tone, Faith. Let me explain.”
“Explain?” Cordelia huffed. The story they had been spinning never seemed legit. “Then tell me what Faith is doing ‘volunteering’ at City Hall. As far as I know, there’s no future for slayers in politics.”
Carefully choosing his words, Giles pointed out, “You have friends at school. Surely you can’t begrudge Faith other interests.”
“But the mayor’s a snake,” Cordelia argued vehemently, her hair flying wildly around her shoulders as she gestured, hands in the air, “a slimy, two-faced used car salesman. Bev knew what he was like, and I trust her instincts.”
Wes drolly commented, “Yours are certainly spot on.” He turned away, crossing his arms in front of him when Giles gave him a stern stare.
Giles asked her, “Are you just concerned about Faith’s choice of friends, or was there something else?”
“The mayor seems to have a lot of new friends. Kind of coincidental after Willow’s spell showed Isobel was at City Hall yesterday.”
Standing with Buffy at the top of the stairs, Willow squeaked triumphantly, “Hah! It knew it worked.”
Buffy took the steps one by one. “Did you really meet him last week?”
“I said so, didn’t I?” Faith dropped her gaze to her reddened knuckles.
“Who the hell are we talking about?” Angel demanded. He had heard the bit about the suspicious stranger, but now it was someone Faith knew from City Hall.
Ignoring Angel’s question, Cordelia pointed a finger at Faith, accusing her, “You’re lying. I can’t believe you would try to keep this a secret.”
Faith suddenly paled. “You know.”
The others gaped in silence, except for Xander who murmured, “She knows what? What does she know?”
“Your new friend is no minion, Faith. He’s a vampire— Nicolau Cibran.”
Although a jumble of denials sounded in the wake of her eye-opener, Cordelia pressed on. She was looking up at Angel now, whose expression was stormy, yet confused. He was the only silent one in the bunch beside Faith who was suddenly as tight-lipped as a clam.
“That is impossible,” Wesley cautioned her not to get wild with her theorizing. “You were both standing in broad daylight.”
Ignoring the nay-sayers, Cordelia asked Angel, “You remember what Nicolau looks like, right?” She received a brief nod before describing him in great detail, not forgetting to mention his charisma. “He even kissed my hand.”
Lifting it, Angel scented her skin mentally prepared to differentiate its subtle fragrances. When he looked into her eyes again, his were filled with rage, having instantly detected the truth. He growled out, “Vampire.”
Angel released his hold on her wrist, curled his hand into a fist, and punched the wooden post holding up the banister. The stairs shook hard enough to cause its three occupants to scream. “How is this possible? He did this to piss me off,” he shouted over the noise.
Wesley and Giles called out for him to calm down, but his anger was suddenly turned on them. “You want me to calm down when you promise me that Cordy will be safe, and yet you let him have a conversation with her, let him touch her?”
“Cordelia appeared to be in no immediate danger,” Giles assured him. “Might I remind you that she has come to no harm. The more important discov—”
Angel was not ready to talk about that, yet. “Nico is playing games with you all. Making you think he is charming and harmless. He’s a killer, and you stood by while he put his hands on Cordelia.”
“Lips, too,” she reminded him of the hand kissing.
Turning around, Angel moved toward Faith with a sudden burst of speed. He wrapped his hand around her throat and pushed her back against the brick wall, raising her up so that her feet barely touched the ground. He moved in close to pin her down forestalling any attempt at escape.
There were shouts in the background, demands to stop, words of caution, but there was nothing going to prevent Angel from getting the information he wanted. “Faith, I want the truth and I want it right now. The mayor’s dirty hands aren’t a secret in this town.”
Faith could say nothing as his hands squeezed a little tighter, fear jarring her from the numb place she had taken herself during the last hour. Angel pressed into her, his hard body an immovable wall. “Cordy’s right about your ‘volunteer’ work being a load of crap. What’s that all about, Faith? Tell me, do you still slay vampires, or is something else going on with Nicolau that we should know about?”
Trying to pry his hands away, gasping for air, Faith tried to speak.
Cordelia hit Angel on the shoulder, “Hey!” making him loosen his hold just enough to let her answer.
“What? No, I swear. Ask Giles.”
“She’s telling the truth,” Giles did not wait to be asked. He held out his hands in front of him. “The only orders Faith has been following have been mine.”
Buffy gasped, stunned by the revelation. “What orders?”
“The mayor isn’t what he seems. Faith has been feeding him false information and gathering intel on his illegal activities. Something big is coming up, but we haven’t been able to pin anything down yet.”
“Faith is a double agent?” Xander ooohed at the idea. “Cool.”
Slowly, Angel lowered her back to the ground. Faith started coughing the moment he released her, catching her knees with both hands as she doubled over. Standing, she looked him in the eye, “Don’t ever do that again,” and punched him squarely in the jaw.
Angel’s head jerked sideways with the impact, but he took the punch without further retaliation realizing that maybe he deserved it.
“I never actually laid eyes on Nicolau before today.”
“Why lie about it?” Cordelia was confused.
Explaining that Mayor Wilkins asked her to smooth things over between Cordelia and his guest, Faith told them she had no choice other than to do what she was told. “He knows things. There is something going on with him that has nothing to do with the prophecy, and he is just as much in the dark about what’s coming as we are.”
“Then why feed him information?”
“To keep tabs on him. He has a hand in almost every scheme going on in this town. He covers up more stuff every day than you can imagine. I’m not even sure that Wilkins is human.”
Wesley still was not comfortable with the subterfuge. Undercover operations were not part of the Slayer Handbook. They had argued about it on the way back to the mansion from the cemetery. “Faith, a slayer should never be forced to lie to protect a vampire. I am sorry that you were pressed to do so.”
“S’okay, it’s not exactly the worst thing I have been asked to do,” Faith said cryptically without divulging more.
Cordelia sort of understood that Faith was working to undermine the mayor’s dastardly plans, whatever those might be. She was less clear about the slayer’s first impression of the mayor’s well-dressed guest. “Did you know right away that Nicolau was a vampire?”
“I knew that he was with Mayor Wilkins, that the sun was shining, and that I felt like wrestling him to the ground.” Faith shrugged and flashed her trademark dimpled smile. “Vampire or not, he’s smoking hot. I thought I was just getting horny.”
Understanding how the other slayer might get distracted, Buffy admitted, “When I first met Angel, I had no idea he was a vampire, but I’ve gotten the hang of picking up on it most of the time.”
“Kind of a kick in the gut,” Faith nodded understanding. “Wilkins is schmoozing him for some reason. I don’t know what he’s planning.”
Angel did not care what their reason were, but this business with the mayor allowed Cordelia to be put in harm’s way. “Sounds like you’d better find out what it is.”
“Don’t give me that shit, Angel,” Faith wasn’t about to let him bark orders at her. It was more than enough to get it from Giles and the mayor. “I did what I had to do. Cordelia is back safe and sound.”
“That wasn’t a villager, or a thrall performing at his master’s bidding,” Angel ground out. “It was Nicolau returning the message I sent with Isobel.”
Cordelia knew the message had been a warning.
Cupping her cheek, Angel softly caressed it with the pad of his thumb. “Nico is making this personal because I threatened the same.”
“Angel, he never threatened me. Actually, he invited us over for lots of hot sex,” she added cheekily. “Before I meet my fate as a sacrificial lamb, that is.”
“I’m going to kill him.”
“Oh, I can totally live with that, and I’d like to, actually. Live, I mean.”
Wrapping her up in his arms, Angel held on tightly with Cordelia squeezing him back just as hard. She wanted to be alone with him right now, but there was one important detail to be discussed that could not wait until later.
“Anyone want to tell me how it is possible for a vampire to walk around in the sunlight?”
Xander’s snarky suggestion of ‘Sunblock SPF 10,000’ drew a few snickers.
Willow asked, “Could it be magic?” That seemed to make a lot of sense.
Even Angel conceded that it was possible. Strong magic. It would have to be almost as powerful as a curse and as difficult to procure. Otherwise, every vampire on the street would be looking for a spell.
“Do you still want this, Cordy?” asked Xander handing her the pen and paper.
“Oh, I almost forgot about it.” She sketched something out as the others looked on. It was rough. Drawing was not her forte. “I saw something when I was talking to Nicolau.”
Cordelia handed the sketch to Giles. “With my eye for expensive jewelry, I couldn’t help but notice his ring.” It was mostly gold, but inlaid with onyx creating a unique design, one that looked more like a symbol.
Giles turned pale as he looked at it. “Are you certain?”
Before Wesley could take it, Angel snagged it out of Giles’ hand. The sketch was very rough, but not what he expected. Every vampire clan had its own markings, a crest that identified its territories and properties to other clans. Still, considering the nature of the Solarian vampires, it was not entirely surprising.
“This is a demon brand. It symbolizes Nicolau’s allegiance to his demon god.”
“No,” Giles responded stiffly, “I fear it represents something far worse.”