Illyria

Disclaimer: All characters and Situations relating to �Buffy the Vampire Slayer� and �Angel� are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Greenwolf Productions, the WB, and (apparently) evil Fox. The author has received no monetary or material recompense for her efforts. However, she does accept lavish praise and constructive criticism (whatever that is).

Note: This story features a character from a previous work, �I Was a Modern Prometheus,� although it isn�t necessary to have read that to enjoy this story.

Follows �Jock O�Hazeldean�

Archive- Sure, but email me and let me know where it�s going.

Feedback- Absolutely.

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Manhattan, February, 1978

The young man stood outside the service door, his eyes downcast and his hands fumbling nervously with one another.

�Look,� said the cook, who was leaning out into the alley to talk to him. �The manager will be here tomorrow afternoon. You can apply for a job with him.�

�I can�t come back tomorrow,� The young man answered. �Are you telling me you can�t use even a little extra help tonight? I only need a few dollars. I�ll do whatever you want.�

�I couldn�t hire you even if I wanted to,� the cook said. �I don�t have the authority. And even if I could, my boss would kill me for letting a junkie in here. Sorry, man. I sympathize. I really do. But I can�t help you.�

The young man turned away. �Thanks, anyway,� he mumbled.

In truth, the young man was not a man at all. He was a vampire, over two centuries old, named Angel. But unlike others of his kind, he had been cursed, and given back his soul and his conscience.

Now he was truly desperate. The winter had decimated the rat population, and he hadn�t eaten in days. And while it had never been easy for him to earn a bit on money here and there, given his circumstances, in the past decade or so it had become nearly impossible. He hid where he could in the daylight hours, moving from place to place so the police didn�t catch on and arrest him for vagrancy. He had fled them several times, but as his starvation worsened he became weaker and weaker. It was only a matter of time before he could be easily caught and taken away.

Angel walked to the end of the alley, pulling his worn coat around him for the scant protection it offered. He turned the corner and passed a line of young people hoping to enter one of the trendier discotheques. They were arrayed in outlandish finery, shameless to Angel�s eyes. And he could smell impurities in them, drugs in their blood.

He swayed unsteadily as he shuffled through the grey, slushy snow at the edge of the sidewalk, his head down, when he bumped into someone. He looked up, into the eyes of two policemen. He cringed away.

�Watch where you�re going, buddy,� one said.

�Hey,� shouted a voice behind them, and Angel looked around to see it was one of the disco�s doormen. �Can�t you do something to keep these bums from hanging out in front of my place,� he said, �they�re scaring away the legitimate customers.�

�It�s a free sidewalk,� the second policeman answered, and a few in the waiting crowd laughed.

The doorman�s face grew red. �Well, aren�t there laws against begging,� he retorted, �that one there comes by panhandling every night.�

Angel took another step back, shaking his head. �No, I don�t,� he said. �I was just walking by.�

�You can�t panhandle here,� the first policeman told him. �We have laws against that kind of thing.�

�I wasn�t,� Angel protested, �I was just walking, I swear.�

The crowd, sensing the opportunity to break up the monotony, started to add their opinions.

�I�m here every night,� a shrill woman shouted, �and you always see derelicts. Can�t you do something?�

�Yeah, do something,� a number of others agreed.

�Alright,� said the second policeman, taking Angel�s shoulder, �let�s go.�

�I didn�t do anything,� Angel said weakly, allowing the two cops to take him away and around the corner to the cheers of the disco crowd. Once out of sight of an audience, the first cop gave Angel a shove.

�Go on,� he said. �Why don�t you go to the Salvation Army? Get off the horse.�

Angel stumbled through the piles of dirty snow left at the edge of the street. �I�m not a junkie,� he said.

�Then you belong in Bellevue,� the second cop said. �Now beat it.�

Angel turned his back and started walking again, staying to the edge of the street. He became aware of his hunger now, so acute his mind seemed shrouded with fog. He didn�t know how long he�d been walking when it happened. A vehicle clipped him from behind, and he spun through the air, landing in a pile of garbage put out by the curb.

The suddenness and the pain awoke the demon within, turning his face to the demon�s own hideous countenance. When the vehicle�s driver ran to him, she saw only the golden-eyed monster, and returned to her car and drove away.

Angel tried to get up, but the impact had broken something inside, and in his weakened state, he could only struggle helplessly on his back. And the demon within seemed at odds with him, howling in pain and fear.

I�m dead, Angel thought. The sun will rise, and I�ll be burned to death. His mind, addled by hunger, tried to grasp that fact, but this only incited the demon further.

Suddenly a face came into his view. It seemed familiar somehow, as though part of a dream. The face�s owner knelt beside him now, and picked him up gingerly, supporting him with an arm slung around Angel�s back.

�Do I know you,� Angel croaked. �who��

His benefactor did not reply, but instead touched Angel�s lips with his fingers and shook his head. Then he scooped Angel up, carrying him like a child.

Angel must have blacked out, for the next thing he knew, he was lying on the bed in a darkened bedroom, blankets tucked around him. He looked about him, and saw his rescuer seated nearby, watching him closely, his fingers steepled before his face. Angel tried to sit up, but whatever had broken prohibited him from supporting his own weight.

His rescuer stood and came to him, and Angel realized he was another vampire. In a flash he recognized who it was. �Alexi,� he murmured.

The other vampire, who was indeed Alexi, smiled and nodded.

�I can�t believe it,� Angel said.

It had been almost forty-six years since they had both been prisoners of a woman scientist bent on discovering the secrets of vampirism. At the time, they had both been starved and systematically tortured. Alexi�s tongue had been cut out, leaving him mute. It was only an incredible piece of luck that had saved their lives, and the last Angel had seen of him, Alexi had been feasting on the bodies of their incarcerators.

�What happened to Dominique?� Angel asked, referring to their third fellow prisoner.

Alexi mimed a stake being thrust into his heart, and Angel nodded, understanding. �I�m sorry,� he said. Alexi shrugged, then rubbed his hand over his belly and pointed to Angel.

�Yes,� Angel admitted, �I�m starving.�

Alexi moved his two fingers back and forth, signifying a person walking. With his other hand, he grabbed the first and held it out to Angel. Then he pointed at the door.

�No, Alexi,� Angel said. �I don�t� I don�t take human life anymore.�

An expression of distaste crossed Alexi�s face, and he seemed about to argue, but instead he threw up his hands and nodded. He put a comforting hand on Angel�s shoulder, then left.

He was gone for over two hours, and in that time, Angel carefully explored the extent of his injuries. He knew he would heal more quickly than a human, but he could still be down for weeks or months. The thought of depending on another vampire for that length of time chilled him to the core, but he realized he wasn�t too bad off. The blow from the car had only appeared to mildly rupture his lower back and one knee. He should be up in a day or two, and back in form within a week and a half.

Not as bad as it could have been, surely, but still pretty bad, he thought. From what little he had seen and heard of Alexi, the other vampire was fierce, and a quick and vicious killer. Aren�t we all, he thought ruefully.

Alexi returned carrying a large burlap sack that obviously contained something alive. He dropped it carelessly to the floor, then came to Angel and helped him rise to a sitting position.

�Alexi,� Angel said, protesting, �you remember me, don�t you?�

Alexi smiled and nodded.

�Do you remember the things I said?� Angel went on. �I don�t kill people anymore. I�m not like other vampires.�

Alexi nodded again, more gravely this time.

�I have to know,� Angel said, �I may be here awhile. Until I heal. Can you accept that I�ll only drink from animals.�

Alexi nodded.

�And the harder part,� Angel continued. �I won�t tolerate humans being killed if I can help it.�

Alexi stood up straight, his face open with anger and shock. He stepped away from Angel and turned his back, and stood motionless for several moments, his arms folded. Angel stayed still himself, uncertain if the next moment would bring his death at Alexi�s hand.

At last the other vampire turned back. He extended both hands to Angel, open and palms up, then clenched them into fists and drew them into his chest. Then he nodded slowly. Angel understood: Alexi owed Angel his life. He would comply.

�Thank you,� Angel breathed.

In response, Alexi crouched down and opened the bag he had brought. Inside were two small pigs, no more than sucklings, wire bound round their legs to immobilize them, and electrical tape gagging their mouths. They were already half-dead from exhaustion, but as Alexi lifted one it began to struggle anew.

Angel took the young swine from Alexi�s hands. It was bleeding where the wire had rubbed the skin raw. The scent of the blood rose, and hunger brought Angel�s demon forth again. He drove his fangs into the thick flesh at the pigs throat, sucking the nourishing blood into his body, then took the second and did the same.

The blood raced through his undead body, and Angel could feel the tissues expanding, filling out. The pain in his back and legs began to ease, and Angel knew the bones were beginning to knit. "Thank you," he said again, and fell back onto the bed.

His mouth drawn in an expression of disgust, Alexi gathered the bodies of the two swine back into the burlap sack and exited the apartment. Again, he was gone for some time. Angel dozed off and on, occasionally trying his strength. The blood from the pigs had been his first substantial meal in decades, he realized, and the contrast of such relative gluttony brought his deprived existence into sharp relief. But it had come from another vampire, a killer as fierce as he had once been. The pigs had undoubtedly been bought with the purse of one of the unfortunate dead that he had felled.

He must leave as soon as he could, Angel realized.

Alexi returned just before dawn, his complexion the ruddy color vampires took on when they had recently fed. Angel�s heart sank. �Oh, Alexi,� he murmured, knowing that in truth, he had no power over the other vampire whatsoever.

In response, Alexi opened his mouth, making the strange, silent laugh Angel had seen when he had killed their tormenters, and Angel shivered. Then the other vampire reached into his coat pocket, drawing out a long, silver chain. Angel sighed with relief. It was a dog collar.

�You killed a dog,� he said, and Alexi nodded enthusiastically. Then, using his fingers and body language, he re-enacted the scenario for Angel�s benefit. He signed a person walking his dog, then he, Alexi, leaping from the shadows of an alley, his face twisted into its fierce countenance. He mimed the dog�s owner shrieking and fleeing while he fell upon the hapless animal, fighting it and at last overcoming it, then drinking its blood. He pounded his chest in mock bravado, then raised the collar above his head in a triumphant shake of his fist.

In spite of himself, Angel laughed, though he knew he should be appalled. But at least Alexi was trying to understand and follow his wishes, and Angel figured any encouragement of that couldn�t hurt.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The two vampires slept through the next day, Angel stretched on Alexi's bed, and Alexi curled nearby on a small battered couch. Angel woke once in the middle of the day, and for a moment was disoriented. Alexi's apartment was very typical of a vampire's den, dark and dry, and suffused with the odor of stale blood, and Angel almost imagined himself in the past, in a lair of his own, before the memory of the last eighty years crashed over him.

He had left this world behind him, but as much as he hated to admit it, there was a certain comfort in it, a familiarity of being in a place and among things that were amenable to him, that were geared towards creatures with certain needs and certain experiences.

No, he told himself, I must not get too comfortable here.

He and Alexi both woke again just after sunset, and Angel tried his strength again. To his surprise, he was able to climb out of bed and move around, although not too quickly and with considerably restricted motion. But he had to admit, he had not expected to recover so soon.

�It won�t be long,� he told Alexi, and the other vampire nodded approvingly.

Alexi showed Angel around his small apartment, leaving him in the tiny bathroom, and expressing with his hands that Angel should help himself to any of the items within.

Angel allowed himself the luxury of a long, almost painfully hot shower, again, the first time in years he�d been able to do so. He stepped out, his skin slick and steaming, and slipped into a bathrobe Alexi had left for him. The heat had also seemed to advance his healing, and he stretched, arching his back gingerly.

Alexi was gone again when Angel exited into the apartment, so he took the opportunity to explore the rooms on his own. Like many vampires, Alexi�s tastes ran to the gothic, almost to the grotesque. Mounted insects, refugees of the Victorian era, hung on the velvet-covered walls, and the few pieces of furniture were dark and deeply upholstered. Black lace scarves were draped throughout.

Angel picked up a volume of poetry from a side table and settled into an overstuffed armchair, but no sooner had he sat down than he was on his feet again, moving about restlessly. He had kept rooms very like this himself at one time, had shared them with Darla, and Dru, and Penn, and a dozen other fledglings. He had created monstrous pseudo-families, united in a mockery of loyalty and affection, but for all that, there was a certain comfort in the company of one�s own kind.

Angel determined he would stay but one day more, and take his chances after that. It might take him longer to reach full health, but he would recover eventually. And every day he stayed, he knew, would only add to the temptation, on those nights he was cold and starving, to return to the life he�d had before.

Alexi returned in the company of a young woman, a living human. With an old-fashioned courtly bow, he presented her to Angel.

�How do you do,� she said formally, extending her hand.

Angel turned to Alexi, whose face wore a maddening smirk, then turned back to the woman, who still held out her hand expectantly.

�Who are you?� Angel asked.

�A friend of Alexi�s,� the woman replied. �my name�s Leora.� She lowered her hand and glanced from Angel to Alexi and back. �It�s okay,� she went on, �I know you�re both lamia.�

�Vampires,� Angel corrected pointedly.

�As you will,� Leora said coolly, and Alexi came to her side, brushing back her dark hair and kissing the side of her neck. Angel stared at them, his face drawn with confusion.

�You know?� he said, his voice think with disbelief.

Leora smiled slyly. �I know everything about you,� she said. �I am teaching Alexi, teaching him to speak with his hands. And in return, he will give me immortal life.�

�An immortal life as a soulless killer,� Angel said, �did he tell you that?�

Leora�s expression hardened. �He told me you were different,� she said. �That you didn�t accept your place in the world.�

Angel had never heard a human being talk this way, so casually accepting of the vampire�s predation on mortals. �What?� he whispered.

�Still you cling to those superstitions,� she said, shaking her head. �The soul. Good. Evil. Human constructs, all of them. You have risen a rung on the evolutionary ladder, and we really haven�t any right to judge you by human standards.�

Angel was dumbfounded. This woman had cold-bloodedly measured vampires against mortals, and was now seeking to tip the scales to her favor.

Angel began to climb into his clothes, which were still piled on the bed. �This is madness,� he said. �Leora, Alexi has lied to you. There is such a thing as a soul. I am proof. And there is evil. True evil.�

Alexi stopped Angel with a hand upon his shoulder, and raised one finger.

Angel shook his head. �Alexi, no,� he said, �you know the truth.�

�He wants me to speak for him,� Leora said, and Alexi stepped back so he could face them both. He began to move his hands and fingers through the air, weaving strange patterns.

�I have been alone for half a century, Angel,� Leora said, and Angel realized she was reading the signs that Alexi was making, that they were a language of some kind. He had heard of such things among deaf-mutes, but had never seen it himself. �My voice is gone forever, taken from me. Now, with Leora, I may speak again. She joins me willingly. Can you not be happy for me?�

Angel turned away painfully. �It�s a lie, Alexi. You lied to her.�

�This is a new age, Angel,� Leora said for Alexi. �A world full of men and women so short of sight they may as well be insects crawling on the face of this planet. You have seen them. A generation that is not only spiritually empty, they are unaware there is even something missing. They care only for physical pleasure, their lives pathetic and empty. We always called them cattle, Angel. Now even they begin to understand what they are.�

�For someone without a voice,� Angel said levelly, �that�s quite a speech.�

"You're better than us," Leora said, speaking now for herself. "I mean, look at you. You're beautiful, graceful, powerful. Who wouldn't want that."

"But people must die," Angel said desperately.

"So what!" Leora exclaimed. "So a few weak, useless people are killed. What difference does it make?"

Alexi moved his hands again. "Do you see why I love her," Leora said for him. "And the earth is crawling with millions of others with just her philosophy."

Angel said nothing, so Alexi went on. "You've been out of the world too long. Compassion and mercy have no value for them anymore. It's the paradise we've longed for."

Angel was completely dressed now. "I thank you for your help," he said stiffly. "I suppose your debt to me has been repaid."

Alexi cut his hands quickly through the air. "There is no place for pity, Angel. Follow that path and you will have no place, either."

Angel covered his eyes with his hand. "Enough," he said. "I'm going."

"Look around," Leora's voice followed him out the door, "you'll see it's true. They've become their own worst enemy." Angel couldn't tell if it was Alexi's words or the woman's.

He walked down the sidewalk, and turned his collar to the bitterly cold wind that now blew over him. He passed the disco he had been hassled in front of, what, only yesterday? A similar collection of extravagantly-dressed people waited out front. He kept his head up, looking to avoid a repeat of last night, and listened to them as he walked past.

It would have been easy to believe Alexi listening to them. They were shallow and petty, caring for nothing more than who they would see, who would see them, where they would get their next hit of drugs, and who they would go home with. Angel, who had seen debaucheries among vampires that would have put the ancient Romans to shame, might even have despaired.

But he had also in his long life seen great kindness, though it was only in this half-life that he recognized it as such. Even in the darkest and most brutal periods of history there had been compassion. Alexi would never understand that; he couldn't. The demon that animated him simply had no way to comprehend such concepts.

But Leora...

The cold air seemed to cut into him more deeply at the thought of her. He had known many humans who desired vampires, but always it was a romantic, idealized view, a lie perpetrated upon innocents. But Leora was something new, a woman who saw them for precisely what they were, and desired them anyway.

He walked until he got to the park, where the snow was still white and clung to the branches of the trees, contrasting them to the winter half-darkness. The park was deserted, and he found his way to a large storm drain, its mesh covering loose and half turned back, and crept inside.

He should have killed Alexi, he thought. Not given him the chance to murder more people or create another killer. He had done it before, when the danger was more immediate. But he knew he no longer had the will, or the strength. The curse, as it had been intended, had made him weak.

He shivered as his body began to reach a temperature equal with the air, a painful process in sub-zero weather. The demon inside him made small protests, but Angel had learned to ignore these long ago. The world changed, he thought. And his own kind, for despite their differences, he and Alexi were kin of a sort, retreated further into the shadows of myth while a very human monster took their place.

They don�t understand, he thought again, but I no longer understand them, and perhaps that is best. And he fell into a restless sleep.

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