Spike waited nervously in the antechamber. After making the decision to become a spy, he'd waited an additional day to go to Azazel. Angel, Wesley, and Oz had drilled him on the information he was allowed to give, the information he wasn't allowed to give, and the information they would like to find out. Of course, they all knew he most likely would not get much, at least not at first. If Azazel was half as smart as they believed him to be, he would not trust the vampire right away.

If for some reason he did, so much the better for the team.

Lilith walked in, wearing some sort of uniform that showed her figured to perfection. "Welcome back, vampire."

"Thank you."

"You know, I get to kill you if you decide to decline Azazel's offer." She smiled evilly. "I just thought you might like to know."

"Thanks," was the vampire's dry reply.

The demon slunk over to Azazel's throne and sat down. From her position, she preened and tried to look important. At least, that's what Spike assumed she was attempting to do. Important and seductive.

Spike had never much liked green women. He never got those things on "Star Trek" that Xander pointed out to him. So, it was Batgirl painted green; who cares? He liked her better on "Batman" where she belonged.

"Vampire, the master will see you this way," a black-haired human, whom Spike assumed was Xavier, said, stepping into the room.

"Thanks." Spike followed the man down a long hall. The walls were dark, with classical paintings hung on them. The carpet was velvet and the air was elegant.

Spike felt a bit out of place.

Xavier opened a door and gestured for Spike to enter. He did.

If his heart beat, it would have stopped at the sight before him. Azazel was draped on a large bed covered in a black satin spread. He was dressed in a red silk robe and loose black silk pants. His skin was flushed, his curls slightly damp, and bright eyes fastened on Spike.

"Spike, welcome back." He casually ran his gaze down Spike's wiry frame, then back up to his face. His lips curled slightly, sending small shivers down the vampire's spine. "Have you made your decision?" Azazel asked.

"Yes, I have. I'm with you."

With one graceful move, the demon rose and glided over to Spike. His smile now lit his entire face. "Wonderful. Tell me, what made you decide to betray your friends?"

You, Spike wanted to say. He shook his head sharply, trying to clear it. He was having trouble thinking of anything except Azazel. "I'm angry. I want Angel to suffer like he's made me suffer. He should pay for doing what he did, for making me the way I am. Doing this... it'll make him miserable, right?"

"Right. You, my friend, are absolutely right." Azazel's voice and face were sympathetic. He placed his hands on Spike's shoulder's and squeezed gently. "You have been used and worse, treated badly. Look at you; you've lost everyone you've ever loved. And you never should have loved in the first place. He did that to you, he gave you the potential to experience the worst type of pain, that of abandonment. And then what did he do? What did he do to you, Spike, after he was done playing with you?"

"He left me," Spike whispered.

"He left you. You, soft and pliant, left to face the world on your own." Azazel leaned forward. "I will never leave you like that, Spike. I will make you strong and always be there by your side." He gently kissed the vampire by his ear, warm lips gently caressing the spot for a moment. "Now," he said, pulling back, "what information do you have for me?"

Spike's eyes were closed, his lips parted. He was attempting to get control of his wayward libido and having a hard time. Taking a deep and unneeded breath, Spike opened his eyes and gazed into those of his companions. Those eyes were smiling into his, catching him, asking Spike to please tell him everything, that everything would be all right, that he would take care of it all.

That Spike would never again have to be alone.

"Cordelia, our seer, was harbouring demon children in her shelter and it was attacked. And Wesley stopped it. Then he invited people who helped defend the children to come to the hotel and talk about you and the war."

"Did they come?"

"Yeah."

"About how many?"

"Fifteen. All of them agreed to train to fight."

Amusement twinkled in his eyes. "You're building an army?"

"Yes. If you attack with an army, they want to be ready. They've been recruiting demons and half-breeds for awhile, but these are the first humans."

"They believe him about the demons? In my experience, modern humans generally ignore reality of demonic activity."

"Well, these humans have fought demons before."

Azazel nodded and ran his hand up to the juncture of Spike's neck and shoulder. His finger brushed against the skin on the vampire's neck. He was very warm, more so than Buffy had ever been. Like most vampires, Spike craved the heat of living beings and this being had the promise of eternity behind him.

Azazel gently traced a path up the vampire's neck, over his Adam's apple, to the hollow of his throat, and began repeatedly stroking Spike's collarbone.

"Anything else?"

Spike's mind was dark with desire, his mouth suddenly dry. He felt as if every nerve was suddenly standing at attention, focused on that one point at his neck.

Azazel had asked him a question. Spike scrambled around for an answer.

"Rumours are going around that Wesley is some sort of god or something." Belatedly, Spike remembered that was one of the things he *wasn't* supposed to say.

"Interesting. Anything else?" He leaned closer and brushed his lips over the skin he had just finished tracing.

Spike whimpered slightly. He reflexively grabbed onto Azazel's waist and held him tightly.

"Um, Lindsey's been asked to go to Rome and talk to the Pope." Spike was fighting to keep his mind on track, trying to remember what information he was supposed to give and what to hide. It was hard with the most beautiful being he'd ever seen nuzzling his neck.

"Lindsey? Ah, right, the Prophet." His mouth was beginning to be more persistent, soft, hot, and wet. "What about the Oracles?"

"What about them?"

"They're mortal. Where do they get their power from?"

"I- I don't know."

Azazel pulled back. "Spike, are you lying to me?"

"No."

The demon slid Spike's duster off his shoulder, allowing it to drop to the floor. He slowly unbuttoned Spike's trademark red shirt then hiked the tee shirt underneath up enough to slip his hand under.

Spike closed his eyes as Azazel's warmth radiated over his cool skin. The demon was slowly running his hand over Spike's flesh, ghosting over his nipples, down his ribs, finger slipping into his belly button and out again, before rising up again.

"Are you sure you don't know?" Azazel purred. "Not even a clue?" He leaned up and kissed the underside of Spike's jaw.

"Wesley hid something downstairs with all the magic stuff. He did it the day the Doll came to live with us... Uh, the other Oracle. I didn't get to see what he hid."

"Can you get down there for me, just to look?"

"I can try," Spike found himself saying.

"Good. I would really appreciate that. Just pop on down and take a look." He smiled as Spike. "Now that's out of the way. You've brought me some valuable information, Spike. I thank you." Azazel kissed him, his teeth gently tugging at Spike's bottom lip, seeking access.

With a groan, Spike opened his mouth and let the demon slide this tongue inside. Azazel wrapped Spike in a tight embrace, slowing walking backwards, pulling Spike to the bed.

"What are we doing?" Spike murmured, breaking the kiss.

Azazel trailed his lips over Spikes face, breathing into his skin. "Sealing the deal. I didn't think you'd mind."

"What d'you mean?"

"Didn't you know? I am collecting power, here; I require that all my servants allow my access to them. This is the most... pleasurable way to get that access. It doesn't have to be me; you can do Lilith or Xavier if you like. I just," the eyelashes lowered flirtatiously, "I just thought it would be better if I were the one to do it." He pushed Spike's shirt up further, leaned down, and teasingly flicked his tongue across on of his nipples. Standing back up, he began to play with it with his fingers, gazing heatedly into the vampire's eyes.

Spike could no longer form a coherent thought. This was what he wanted; this was the real reason he came: to be noticed and touched.

As if sensing victory, Azazel pulled the pliant vampire onto the bed, rolling on top of him. Kissing him all over, Azazel whispered, "I am forever, Spike. Stay with me and be by my side forever."

Forever.

* * *

Azazel walked out of his room, leaving Spike asleep in the bed. Tying his robe, he walked down towards the antechamber.

"Xavier, good you're here. Do you know what I hate?"

"Mortals?"

Azazel, who was in the process of lighting a cigarette, glared at his servant. "It was a rhetorical question." He finished lighting and took a long breath of it, closing his eyes. "Now, do you know what I hate?"

"No, master, I do not. Please enlighten me."

"Gambling."

"Gambling," Xavier repeated, his tone incredulous.

"Yes, I hate gambling. It is a waste, an absolute waste. Especially the way humans do it. They build large cities and pump millions of dollars to get people to go to them. Thousands of people to go, simply to sit in an over decorated casino and waste their money. It should be one of the seven deadly sins. Is it?"

Xavier closed his eyes. "No, it is not, not specifically. But I am sure it is covered somewhere."

"Right." Azazel sighed, took another puff and then ground his cigarette out. Placing a hand on his servants shoulder, he remarked, "I am feeling righteous today. So... go talk to Unit Two's commander; tell him to prepare his troops to ship out. I have a job for them."

"Yes, master."

"Oh, and of course, don't allow our guest to see our army or ascertain our plans. He's still asleep right now, but... just in case."

"Of course."

"One more thing, Xavier. Send one of the more human looking demons down to L.A., one of the less powerful ones. I want him to pay a visit to that church down on First and La Palma; have them tell whoever is in charge where the sorcerer lives. And make sure he makes some remarks on Wesley's new deified state."

His servant grinned wolfishly. "Yes master." He turned and left, passing Lilith as she walked in.

She smirked at Azazel. "Did you have fun?"

"Oh yes. One thing I'll say for that vampire is he is a god in the sack. Well, maybe god is being generous, but I'll tell you, I have been put in a generous mood." He looked at her speculatively. "Get dressed in something slutty. We're going out on the town tonight."

"Oh goody! Do we get to kill?"

Azazel walked over to her, grabbed her, and pulled her tightly to his body. "My dear, we will paint the town red. Well, what's left of it, that is." He kissed her. Pulling back, he said, "Go. Soon as Spike wakes up and goes, I want to be ready to leave."

"Yes master." She left.

Azazel went back to his room. Spike lay tangled in the sheets, sleeping soundly. The demon sat next to him, gently tracing his sharp cheekbones then up into his bleached blond hair. "I wish you could go with us. I'm sure the demon in you would love it. Unfortunately, you can't; I just don't quite trust you. Not yet." Smiling to himself, Azazel leaned down and kissed Spike gently. "But soon."

*****
Part 20: The Sorcerer and the Prophet Face the Mob

Lindsey opened his eyes, feeling odd. He rose, glancing around to see if he could find what was wrong. Everything around him seemed to be in order; his bags had all arrived, he had survived his flight to Rome, his guards were by the door. Nothing seemed out of place.

Then what was it?

Restless, he walked into the bathroom, splashing his face with water. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, he tried to focus. When The Powers spoke through him, he often felt like a beam of light was shining through his mind and soul. Now, he could feel the light, but it was scattered. He concentrated and gripped the sides of the sink. Abruptly, everything came into focus and he was thrown out of his body.

~Wesley was standing in front of a group of angry people. Behind him were Angel, Graham, and Xander, the latter two holding stun guns. The people in the mob were armed in various ways: some had guns, some knives, others just angry words. Lindsey could see a religious leader at the head of the crowd, waving a Bible.

"How dare you profane the name of our Lord. You are a charlatan, a sorcerer, in league with demons. You probably sold your soul to Satan if you are not him yourself."

"No, you have it wrong. I am not evil, I fight evil," Wesley protested.

Someone threw an egg at him. "Lunatic! Look at his eyes! They glow with the power of the Devil! Burn him!" somone shouted.

Angel stepped forward, growling, but Graham stopped him. The two Oracles, dressed in their ceremonial robes and shining with inner light, emerged from behind the trio. They walked forward to take their place on either side of the sorcerer.

"Kill them all!" Something else was thrown, hitting Eden in the chest, staining her robe with red juice.

Wesley raised his arms, a protective field springing in front of them. "Please, just listen!"

"Sinner!" someone cried. Lindsey and Wesley looked sharply at him; Lindsey could feel the headache beginning to pound in Wesley's head. That wasn't a human; it was a demon. "Sinner! Sodomite!"

"Lindsey," Wesley whispered, stepping back.

"I'm here, baby," Lindsey replied. He reached out and brushed Wesley's hand with his ghostly one.

Oz and Eden glanced over at Wesley. Their eyes were far older and wiser than their age, and Lindsey knew The Powers That Be were speaking to them "The Prophet is here," Eden said quietly to the group behind Wesley.

"Demon!" the religious leader shouted. " 'My dear, friend, not every spirit is to be trusted/but test the spirits to see whether/they are from God/for many false prophets are at large/in the world.'' The man you see before you is one such man! He is not one of us, he is against us! He is not of God, but of Satan born! He-"

"Who are you to cast judgement on those you know nothing about?" Lindsey demanded, *stepping* into Wesley. "Do you receive visions from The Powers That Be? Do you hear their voice in you, speaking through you? Do you hear their messages and fight their battles, spilling the blood of their enemies for the sake of your soul? Or do you deny the existence of other beings, or name anything you do not understand evil? Do you hide behind the comfort of your religion, believing that you and only you are blessed by the Powers, ignoring reality and attacking what frightens you?

"In this building lives Warriors, men and women specifically chosen to fight the battles for The Powers That Be. I am one of the chosen; you fight for the faith. You strive every day to bring people closer to the Powers in the form you chose to worship in, and my companions and I fight the battles. We fight the dark forcers, the demons, the evil. We look into their faces daily and come out unscathed, our hearts clean, our souls fighting for redemption and purity."

Wesley, filled with Lindsey and his combined power, began to glow. He was lifted into the air by the force of the energy.

"We are on the same side in the fight against darkness. It is not Satan who guides me; it is the work of the darker forces that brings you here. You have allowed yourselves to be seduced by easy answers, to close your hearts and minds to the realities of the world. There are demons, there are monsters, there are vampires. The evil that walks among us does wear another face. Is every demon a creature of evil? No. Many demons work to keep the balance between good and evil, wanting only a normal live for themselves and their children. But we as humans shut them out, ignore them, pass them off as fairy tales, and kill them when they surface. We kill innocent creatures for being different, not taking the time to separate the good from the evil. We kill indiscriminately; how does that make us different from what we fear?

"Now, some of the darker dimension, the monsters want their revenge. They want their turn to be dominant. Kill me, and they are closer to their goal. Join my friends in the fight, and we are that much stronger.

"Faith in a higher power, be it God or Jesus or whomever you worship, strengthens us and our cause. If all you can do is pray, then pray. If you can heal, heal. If you can fight with us, join us in fight. But do not fight against us. I am not your enemy. I am not born of evil and my soul belongs to The Powers That Be."

Lindsey and Wesley, floating higher now, looked out at the crowd that had gathered in the street. They were looking up at them with expressions of awe.

The demon in the crowd began to slink away.

Wesley reached out. "Show your true face. Look what you followed here!"

The demon cried out, his face transforming into a myriad of purple spots and green spikes. He hissed at the crowd as someone screamed and ran. Wesley threw a rope of power around it and squeezed. The demon gasped for air; Lindsey could feel through the power strand as the life force faded and travelled up Wesley's arm to be absorbed in his chest.

"You don't have to stay," Lindsey said through Wesley. He could see the fear in some of the crowds eyes. "Anyone who wishes to learn more is welcome; those who wish to leave - go in peace."

He could feel himself beginning to slip as the hostility in the crowd bled out. People began to talk among themselves much like they did when he spoke in Jerusalem. They were awed, scared, but determined.

Wesley landed and gripped the wall of the building. "Lindsey?" he whispered again.

"I've got to go, baby," the Prophet told him gently.

"Thank you."~

"I love you. Talk to you soon." He reached out again and, abruptly, his fingers bumped into the mirror. He was back in Rome, facing his reflection, exhausted. There was always a let down after they joined, now that he knew they did, in reality, join. He had suspected after their first few phone sex sessions; the day Wesley save the shelter confirmed it. It was intense and personal, being a part of another living being. And when it was over, Lindsey always felt so very alone.

"I want to go home," he told his reflection seriously.

The cold surface gave him no answer.

Later that Night...

Spike walked into the Hyperion about an hour before sunrise, whistling. His mind was not on what was around him; instead, he was focused entirely on the demon he's just left. It had been a long time since he'd woken up next to a warm body, been given a mind blowing orgasm, and then sent on his way. Azazel was nothing if not thorough, which was why Spike had not been able to focus on anything since he'd left the other dimension.

"Spike?" Angel's voice cut into his thoughts.

The blond vampire blinked and stopped in the middle of the lobby. To his surprise, everyone was up. Wesley, Angel, and Xander were sitting on the steps. The sorcerer playing his flute softly, silver glinting out of a crack in his eye lids, while Xander was stretched out with his head in Angel's lap. Cordelia and Faith were sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall, half asleep. Gunn and Graham were speaking intently off to one side, Oz and Eden stood by them, also speaking seriously.

"What's going on?"

Wesley put his flute down, opening his eyes, gazing at Spike. "There was an angry mob here earlier..."

"Is there really any other kind of mob?" Cordelia wondered out loud.

The sorcerer glared at her, then turned back. "There was an angry mob here earlier who wanted to kill me for posing as a god. I haven't, of course, but they were convinced otherwise. However, we were able to take care of the situation."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, Wes did this cool flying thing and scared them all into joining us," Xander mumbled. "They just left about fifteen minutes ago... finally."

"Ah, and that's why you're all up?"

"Yeah," Faith said, her eyes snapping open as she jerked awake.

Angel cocked his head. "How did your meeting with Azazel go?"

"Oh, it went well, really well. I told him I was joining him and then gave him the info I was supposed to, he thanked me, and sent me home."

"Did you get a chance to ask any questions?"

"No." Spike shook his head. "It was pretty much a one way thing. I don't know how much he trusts me yet."

"How long were you there?"

"Not very."

Angel blinked. "Spike, you've been gone all night. You left right after sunset; where have you been?"

"Umm... I went to a bar, had a few drinks, bit a few people. Didn't kill them, but I just thought-"

"No," Wesley cut him off. "Tell them the truth, Spike."

"What?"

He looked at the vampire sternly, making Spike feel like a naughty schoolboy. "Tell them what really happened or I will."

"What's he talking about?" Angel asked.

Spike gazed at Wesley, then down at the ground. "Me and Azazel, we... well, he... We shagged."

"What! You screwed the demon?" Cordelia shrieked.

"I didn't mean to!"

"Oh, what happened? Did someone push you and you fell on it?"

Spike looked at her, his nose crinkled. "What?"

"Exactly whose side are you on? I mean, one second you're all upset about Buffy, then you're getting all physical with her killer? You are one messed up vampire." Gunn demanded.

"Spike, I swear I am going to-" Faith started angrily, but once again Wesley spoke up.

"Calm down, I expected this."

"You did?" said Spike, surprised.

"Yes. He is, after all, I assume still collecting power. You are agreeing to work for him, so naturally he would want to establish a connection with you. The fact that it obviously wasn't unpleasant, well, he must keep his followers happy, now, mustn't he?"

Angel had risen. He walked over to Spike, took him tightly by the lapels of his duster and lifted him off the ground. Pulling the blond up to his face, Angel buried his face in his neck and smelled.

"I can't even smell anyone else on you."

"I doubt Azazel would be so foolish as to leave a scent. In fact, most of his energy around Spike is gone; I could just detect the tinges around the edge of Spike's own." Wesley walked up and ran his hand over the air around Spike. Where his hand travelled, a reddish light appeared briefly, and then faded. "He did say it was to gather your energy, right?"

"No, he said he loved me," Spike replied in a hurt tone. Then rolling his eyes at Angel and Wesley's looks, he said, "Yes, it was for energy. Can't you poofs take a joke?"

"You won't do it again, got it?" his sire told him.

The blond vampire gazed at him, his heart sinking. He couldn't imagine not sleeping with Azazel again. In fact, that thought was painful to him, he wanted the beautiful demon so badly. Already he missed him and his warmth, body, and presence. Spike could hardly wait to return to the other dimension; Azazel hadn't said anything about sex, but a vampire could hope.

"I'll try, but he may insist. I don't want him to get suspicious."

"Will it hurt him?"

Wesley shook his head. "It shouldn't; if he really wants the information, I doubt that Azazel will do anything that will harm Spike. I also don't think it will affect him any, but I'll research the possible spells one can weave out of a sex link."

"Good. Now, did you find anything out?"

Spike shook his head. "No. He asked for my information, then praised me, then... well, you know. Oh, but he did want to know about the Oracles. He wants to know that if you are mortal, where does your power come from."

"Did you tell him?" Oz asked.

"No. I don't really know; but I did tell him that Wes hid something downstairs. He told me to try and sneak down and take a peek."

Oz bit his lip. "So, he's still after us. The Powers hoped he had given up after last time. All the other Oracles are dead, and because I've been hurt and they want us safe, most of the calls over the world are going unanswered. I guess there's an angel who's taking the most important cases, but still..." He trailed off and shrugged. "Since Eden and I are still basically human, we can't spend any length of time at the heavenly court without our minds warping."

"I don't think we should go there; we're safer here," Eden said, taking his hand, squeezing it, then letting go. "So far Azazel hasn't been able to kill us, or even really get to us; all the other Oracles went down easily, and they were guarded at their temples. Even we were attacked in Greece that one time. No, it's better here."

Oz looked at her in surprise. "Is that an apology?"

"No, it's just a you were right, speech. Congratulations, you were right."

Angel shook his head, marvelling at the change in the young woman, then looked at Spike. "You can't get down there. Wesley put wards up; only he can get through them safely. You can't see them so you don't know how it works." There was nothing in Angel's expression or voice to indicate whether or not he was telling the truth about the wards.

In any case, Spike didn't want to know. If he did, Azazel would find out and he really didn't want to betray his friends. If he were stronger, he'd admit to what had happened to him, but Spike wasn't. He needed Azazel, and he wasn't strong enough to give him up.

*****
Part 21: A City in Flames

It was late afternoon when Oz heard the news. The Powers, in frustration, screamed with one voice at the waste, waking the young Oracle. He lay in bed, next to Graham, his heart pounding. Trying to get control of his breathing, he stayed still, gazing at the ceiling, a profound sense of loss settling over him.

There was a soft knock at the door. "Come in, Eden."

Eden floated in and knelt by the bed. "You heard?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"It must be on the news."

"Yes."

They fell silent for a moment, gazing into each other's eyes. If they didn't get up, if they didn't actually see the destruction, then maybe it wasn't real. Even if it was, if they stayed where they were, their friends could have a few hours more of peace. Only the two Oracles would be burdened with the knowledge of so many deaths.

There were footsteps in the hall. Wesley appeared in the doorway. "Lindsey's upset. What's happened? I can't hear him clearly."

Eden turned her head, resting it on the bed. "Las Vegas," she said.

Somehow, Wesley understood. "The whole city?"

She nodded silently.

Graham stirred. "What's going on?" He sat up, his hand automatically threading into Oz's red hair in a gesture of affection. "What's the matter?"

Oz shook his head, unable to speak. The sadness and frustration of the Powers was coursing though him, along with his own.

Wesley came in and turned the television on. "I'll get Angel," he said after staring at the news report for a moment.

A few minutes later the rest of the family filed in. They sat on the floor and on the bed, watching as Las Vegas burned, overrun by demons, with people dying everywhere.

"All correspondents on the scene were killed. Our own was approached by a man," the reporter said sadly. "He thought the man was harmless, but he appears to be one of what we can only be described as demons."

"I can't believe we slept through most of this," Xander remarked.

"We had a long night," Angel answered.

"I could tell the Powers were restless, but I pretty much ignored it until they shouted," said Oz.

There was an interview with various experts in the area of demonology, mythology, and religion. The Pope came on, with a rabbi, Moslem leader, and Lindsey. Their Prophet spoke for a long time, explaining the situation as he knew it, telling the world about Azazel, Lilith, and the Levithan.

"Do no attempt to kill demons, people. If you don't know how, you could be murdering innocents. Leave it to the experts; we know the difference between the evil and the benign. Pray, chant, meditate, turn your minds to the powers above. That is how you can help us. Give up your feuds with your neighbors: embrace them instead. To preserver against the darkness, we must be a stronger family, we must unite. Together we can overcome the darkness. Together, we can spread the light," Lindsey said.

Wesley sighed and put his head back. "I hope that works. I would hate for mass killings to begin now because everyone is afraid."

"The end of the world is near - everyone go get religion," Gunn said, bitterness tinging his words.

"If that's what it takes," replied Angel.

They continued to watch the news. Numbers of local demon experts were flashed on the screen for people with questions. Graham reached over and dialled the number for the local news. He spoke to someone for a long time.

"We're affiliated with the Prophet and have been chosen to fight this battle; we've been fighting these guys for years. Yes, Angel Investigations. Yes, the flying man does live here. No, he's not a wizard. He's a sorcerer. No, he is not a god nor has he ever claimed to be. Uh-huh. Wesley Wyndam-Price. Yes, as a matter of fact, those demons were harmless, but no, they are not living here. Thank you." He hung up. A few minutes later a story on Wesley was run, and the number of Angel Investigations was displayed.

"I didn't realize there were cameras here last night," Wesley said as he watched himself flying above the previous nights mob.

Cordelia snapped her fingers. "Damn. If I had just gone outside, I could have had my big break. Look how they keep focusing on Eden."

"Well, they do go for beauty," Spike told her.

The phone rang, and Oz reached over for it. "Hey. Yeah, we're watching it. No, he's fine, it was just an egg. Uh-huh, okay. Sounds good. See you tonight, Willow." He hung up. "Willow, Tara, and Giles are coming out tonight."

"Good."

There was silence for a long time. Eden had crawled onto the bed and she and Oz were curled up together, Graham holding them both. Wesley sat next to Angel, Xander and Spike on the other side; Faith, Gunn, and Cordelia against the wall, holding each other. They watched as the last of the city burned away and the death count was supplemented by a tally of survivors. So far, they had found 50 people left alive.

"Why?" Faith finally asked. "Why? Why did he kill everyone? Why Las Vegas? Why is this happening?" Her voice sounded helpless and sad.

Eden held her arms out. The Slayer went to the bed and laid down in the Oracle's arms, tears beginning to fall on both their faces.

No one could answer her questions; they all wanted answers themselves.

The family watched the death and burning replayed, watched again and again the messages of hope given by Lindsey, various religious figures, and Wesley, and they prayed.

*****
Part 22: "War Headquarters: Hyperion, L.A."

"I'm off to Azazel's!" Spike announced, loping down the stairs.

"Good. Remember, no Oracles," Wesley reminded him, his head bent over a book. He was standing in front of a group of people, one of the few groups that the team had deemed safe enough to fight.

"Got it." Spike left.

Gunn and Graham exited the danger room, leading another group of people. "Okay, team. Go home, shower, rest. Remember, do not attempt to hunt any types of demons. In another week, we'll take some of you out, but until then you don't go. Got it?" Graham asked, his face stern.

"We've got it," Raoul answered.

"I'm counting on you, Raoul. Call tomorrow by ten with your report of what your group does tonight. If you're not truthful, you're out."

"I swear I won't let anyone out without one of you," he answered solemnly. "Wes, tomorrow we're with you, right?"

"Yes, you are. If it would help, bring something to write with, but trust me, there won't be a test." "Cool, see ya!" Raoul left with his team.

Wesley found the page he was looking for. "Now, this is one of the types demons that we know for sure is with Azazel. They are aggressive, brutal, and mean. They do not use magic per se, but do have magical qualities."

"Like what?" a serious faced woman asked.

As Wesley continued with his lesson, Faith walked out from the elevator with Angel. "Is it just you and me tonight?"

"No, Gunn's coming too."

Eden suddenly ran out from the den. "Buenos Aries has been attacked."

"What?" The room was suddenly very silent.

"It's not as bad as Vegas. The demons were described as green, scaly, and fire breathing. As far as anyone can tell, Azazel was not there, although there are reports of a beautiful - albeit green - woman."

Wesley and the rest of his group were leafing through the various books spread around. Angel just shook his head.

"Keep gathering data on the attack, Eden. Faith, Gunn, and I are still going patrolling. Cordelia!" "Yeah?"

"Man the phones until one. Xander will take over then."

Tara and Willow came out from the upstairs hall, leading a group of people who identified themselves as Wiccans.

"Angel? We're going to go patrol the nearest cemetery. We're working on a spell that may affect both vampires and demons, but need some fieldwork," Willow told the vampire.

"Got it. All right, are there any more teams here besides the two of yours?"

"Yes," Cordelia answered. "Xander and Giles are working with team G on communications. Apparently they've got some electricians, military guys, and a few electronic store managers that claim they can set up a comprehensive communications grid. And, they've got contacts in other cities."

"Good. Cordy, if the rest of the teams don't check in with their nightly reports in time, call the leader. If there's not answer..."

"I know, I know. Call every member of the team until I get one, then if I don't, call you. I know the drill, I've been doing it for two weeks."

Angel put up his hands in mock surrender. "Sorry."

Oz came out of the den, holding a paper with some figures written on it. "The death toll is coming in now, Eden."

"All right." She went back into the den.

"Tara, I want to train with you tomorrow," Oz said, catching sight of the sorceress.

Tara, who was halfway out the door, turned back. "Oh, okay. Bye."

"We're going, too. Bye." Angel, Faith, and Gunn started leaving.

"Deadboy!"

"What is it, Cordelia!" She threw him the cell phone. "Helps to take this."

"Right, sorry." He left and life at the Hyperion hotel, headquarters of the L.A. unit for the war, continued.

* * *

"So, Spike, tell me about the Oracles. Where do they get their power from?"

"I... I don't know. I told you, I can't get down into the room."

Azazel crossed his arms, looking at him hard. "Did you try?"

"Well, yeah, of course I tried," Spike answered.

"I don't think you have. I think you're lying to me. In fact, I think that Angel probably told you that Wesley guarded the room, so you've been too afraid to go and look for yourself. Pitiful, really." He walked away from Spike, went over to a table. Pulling out a cigarette and lighting, he turned back. "So, do you have anything useful to tell me?"

"Well, we're all organized now. There are about six teams of civilians; three of them are combined with demons. All are training to fight - sometimes they go patrolling with Angel or Graham or some one. Then they study demons and the Wiccans do magic and think of ways to help defend in case you attack. There are bases springing up all over the world. A lot of the Watchers who survived are heading up teams. The only ones I'm sure of are in New York, Seattle Paris, and Moscow." Spike was desperately trying to come up with some information that might satisfy Azazel. He'd been coming twice a week for two weeks now, every time ended with him and the demon in bed. The more they fucked, the more Spike wanted him.

"Anything else?"

"Lindsey's not in Rome anymore; he moved back east to talk to some other holy leader."

"Yeah, I already knew that. I can see him. How's the sorcerer?"

Spike shrugged. "Fine. He and Lindsey haven't done that joining thing in awhile."

"Oh, right, that joining thing. I'm thrilled they can do that, real happy for them. Must make those late night phone calls more interesting." He took a long drag from his cigarette. "Well, thanks Spike. Come back later with some information about the Oracles, got it?"

"Wait... you sending me away?"

"Yes." Azazel blinked his deep blue eyes. "I'm a busy man. I've got things to do, attacks to plan, that sort of thing. Why?"

"Well, I thought that... you know, we could shag." Spike approached the demon, his most seductive smile in place.

"Why should we? You haven't brought me what I need, why should I give you what you want? I've waited patiently for two weeks for you find out about the power sources and you still haven't. Therefore, no shagging, as you so elegantly put it."

"No?" Spike couldn't quite comprehend what that meant, but he was fairly sure if he didn't sleep with the demon tonight, there would be no more reason tolive.

"No. Good-bye, Spike." The demon turned, signalling the conversation was over.

"What if I go down there and come back later tonight? Can we fuck then?"

Azazel turned, smiling. Spike felt better; the demon was being charming - was beautiful and welcoming again. This he could deal with.

Azazel stepped forward and began tracing Spike's collarbone in a gesture that never failed to drive the vampire wild.

"If you come back later with the information I want, I will screw you halfway to heaven and make you come harder than you ever have before, and that's a vow. But not until you get me my information. So, go." He kissed Spike gently.

"Got it. Be back later," Spike answered. He quickly left, intent on his mission.

* * *

Spike crept into the hotel around midnight. Angel and the rest of the team were still patrolling and Cordelia was asleep at the front desk. Spike could hear the television going in the den.

As quietly as he could, the vampire crept into the back room then down the stairs to the basement. Wesley kept everything having to do with magic in the basement. Spike had never been down there, not even when he had first come. It wasn't that no one trusted him (which he wasn't entirely sure they did) but there had been no reason for him to go down.

Taking a deep breath, Spike crossed the threshold. Nothing happened; no bells, no whistles, not sudden death. Nothing. The bastard had been lying after all.

Creeping down into the room, Spike searched the various boxes and vials for anything that screamed "Oracle" at him. Finally, tucked in the back, resting in a wooden box, Spike found two glowing bubble-like object. He remembered Giles describing the light from when Buffy died; these fit the description. The vampire figured he had probably found the Oracle's source of power.

Feeling better, he closed the box and left the building without being seen. He didn't want to betray his friends, but telling Azazel what the orbs looked like couldn't cause too much damage, he figured. And it wasn't like it wasn't for a good reason; Spike had a hard time concentrating the longer he was away from Azazel and his body. This was just to keep his mind focused. It wasn't like he was doing anything wrong.

What would Buffy say?

Spike, his hand over the button to activate the portal paused. Buffy would not be happy. She never had any trouble doing the right thing; she was never tempted by evil. But she wasn't here now, was she? No, she'd left him to and died. She woke up that morning and decided that it was time to relax just that much to allow someone to end her life.

She left him all alone, to fend for himself, to pick up the pieces of his tattered heart when she had promised not to leave.

Spike knew he could handle Azazel. He would go in, tell him about the orbs, get fucked, then leave. And everything would be just fine. After all, Spike was the Big Bad and there was nothing, nothing, that he couldn't handle.

Including Azazel.

*****