"The Price"
By Miss UK (edit/rewrites with Princess Plum Jade)
Chapter Two � Old Friends
Cordelia Chase was busy filing away the pending cases. That was just one of the advantages of her recent transformation. Now that the visions were painless, it was easy for her to spend more time involved with them, discerning specific details such as names and more often than not, occurrence dates.
She smiled to herself as she thought of the changes in her life. Such a far cry from Sunnydale. Cordelia had been the high school bitch, with a capital B, I, T, C and H. She had taken pride in her ability to reduce a classmate to tears with a cutting remark. Now look at her!
�I mean, really look at me,� she mumbled to herself. �The old me wouldn�t be seen DEAD in THIS outfit� Cordelia chuckled to herself as she looked down at her attire. Baggy grey jogging bottoms and a figure hugging, almost white t-shirt, cut at her midriff. All covered in demon goo, the after effects of her most recent day�s work.
Shaking her head slightly, Cordelia closed the drawer of the large filing cabinet and turned herself towards the counter top which served as the reception desk at Angel Investigations.
�JEEEEZZZUU�.Willow?� Cordelia was snapped out of her reverie as she came face to face with one of those old �high school chums�. Willow Rosenberg, dork-turned-wiccan, was standing in the centre of the foyer in the Hyperion Hotel, holding what appeared to be a bloody mess masquerading as a person.
�Where is he?� was the curt response to Cordelia�s semi-greeting.
Willow stood completely still in the centre of the room, her whole visage drained of emotion. He eyes sparkled, opaque liquid black, as she addressed Cordelia.
�He? He who? Willow?� Confused, Cordelia�s brain raked for an explanation to what she was seeing. He? What the hell is she talking about? seemed to be the only cohesive thought she could muster.
�Angel! Where�s Angel?� Again, the same dead voice and blank expression.
�I�m right here, what�s going on?� The vampire descended the stairs with fluid grace, covering the ground between himself and the witch in the blink of an eye. As always his appearance was breathtaking. Cordelia inhaled deeply, although involuntarily, as he passed her. The mingled smell of soap and his subtle manly odour touched her nostrils and sent heat racing through her stomach.
�You have to help her.� Willow met and held Angel�s gaze, just as her arms held out the slowly dying woman she had carried with her from Sunnydale. At first the vampire refused to look down. He had caught a glimpse of the dirty blonde hair and his mind had already decided that the witch had brought along with her the corpse of his ex-lover.
�Help her.� The intonation in the Witch�s voice was more forceful, almost goading Angel to disobey. Reluctantly his eyes stole down to the face of the near-dead girl being offered to him.
It was Tara.
Cordelia quickly regained control of herself and rounded the desk separating her from the bloodied scene that had just interrupted her day.
�Oh my God, Willow! What did you do?� Cordelia quizzed urgently as she made her way towards the now officially scary red-head and her vampire boss.
Willow completely ignored her, continuing to search Angel�s face with her jet black eyes. He was flawless. Over two centuries had passed since his body had seen the youth marked on his face. Perfectly sculpted, pale cheek bones, a wide, strong jaw, penetrating, brown eyes, he was beautiful. But he would suffer if he refused her.
Angel felt sick inside. He knew exactly what the witch wanted and he feared her.
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Chapter 3
"The Price" Contents
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