"The Price"
By Miss UK (edit/rewrite with Princess Plum Jade)
Chapter Three � Unholy Choices
�We�re running out of time. Help her NOW.� The forceful quality in the witch�s voice stopped Cordelia dead in her tracks. She floundered, unable to voice the questions flying through her mind. There was an obvious connection between Angel and the red-head. He held her gaze fearlessly, but Cordelia was able to discern the slight tremble to his limbs. Just what the hell was going on?
Willow slowly bent her knees, lowering her loved one to the floor. Tara, the beautiful enchantress who had stolen Willow�s heart and replaced it with her own. Kind, sweet, precious Tara. Her time was short for this world. Her face still cherubic and child like, her pouty lips now tinged blue as death�s pallor crawled over her skin. Her glazed eyes stared emptily out from behind her golden locks, like a portrait of the Madonna.
Willow never took her eyes from Angel�s. Unbeknown to Cordelia her eyes told a tale, and the vampire was its avid audience.
The scene replayed for him in all its technicoloured, surround sound glory. How a stray bullet had smashed through the window of the master bedroom in the Summer�s house, and shattered Tara�s heart. At this very moment blood was over-filling her lungs, hindering her breathing, as her heart fought its losing battle to keep her body alive.
Angel snapped his head to the left, cutting off eye contact with the witch. She had almost had him. Hypnotising him with her grief.
�I�m sorry Willow, but you know that I ca�� Angel faltered, as the witch cut in.
�Don�t you dare say can�t. The word is won�t. And I�m telling you, you WILL.� The authoritative tone of the grief-stricken witch chilled Cordelia�s blood. She still stood stock-still, holding her breath, unable to move for fear she might incur the Wiccan�s wrath.
�Willow, you don�t know what you�re asking.� The vampire stumbled for the words he needed to express the sheer magnitude of what the witch expected from him.
�I�m not asking! I�m giving you two choices. Save her, or save yourself�. The witch�s cold dark eyes lay unblinking on his face. Taunting him.
�Willow, I know you�re in pain, but�� the vampire fumbled.
�Save it. She�s dying. You know what you have to do�. The sterility in her voice chilled the air as her dangerous eyes drank in the vampire. Were they now tinged red?
At the precise moment this little play was enacted, Cordelia was struck by a forceful vision, so vivid she could almost taste it. If Angel failed to comply with the witch�s �offer� it wasn�t his life she would take, as he feared, it was his soul. Cordelia saw the return of a darker, more hideous Angelus, unleashed to rain down destruction until once again the Slayer sent him to a fiery grave. The heat in her stomach was replaced by a pain so great, she cried out before she was able to stop herself
�SAVE US!� Cordelia clutched at her stomach with one hand, as she held the other out to steady herself on the desk.
Awareness struck Angel with brutal precision. Cordelia had always been his friend, always shot straight with him or anybody else within talking distance. Cordelia would not urge him to do this thing to save his life. She wanted to save his soul. There was no doubt Willow was capable of taking his soul from him: she had cast the magical curse that restored it years ago. The witch knew he wasn�t afraid to die, but to be soul-less, evil, unleashed upon the world...
Angel momentarily turned to face Cordelia and the look of horror imprinted on her face said it all. He really had no choice. �Please, Angel! Save yourself!� she rasped.
He cast a last disdainful look at the red-head, as she smiled triumphantly. He dropped to his knees and covered the slight form on the tiled floor.
His facial features contorted to their true form, ridges rising from his eyebrows and cheekbones, sharp canine teeth elongating from his upper jaw. He pierced the delicate skin of the sorceress just as she drew in her last breath. The razor sharp, white fangs of the vampire dug deep into her ripe neck, as he took one slow swallow of her pure, almost godlike blood. He threw his head back in a scream of rage as the copper-like consistency hit his tongue and rolled into his mouth. The taste of fresh human blood was one he still savoured.
�DO IT!� She screamed as she scowled down on the vampire, now smeared in the blood of the most precious thing she had ever been a part of. His glowing hellish eyes met her cold dark ones and he snarled at her.
Angel ripped back the sleeve of his dark mauve shirt, and tore into the wrist of his right arm, allowing his own vampiric blood to briefly mingle with that of the lifeless beauty that lay foetal-like between his thighs. He held the dripping arm directly over the parted lips of the dead woman and waited for the darkest of magics to work its will.
Tara�s eyes lost their glaze, as Angel�s devil blood flowed into her open mouth. Her sallow skin paled significantly, giving her the appearance of a marbled statue. Still she did not move.
Crystal tears slid down the vampire�s beautiful human face as he slowly rose to his feet. One teardrop landed on Tara MacClay�s smooth alabaster cheek.
�It�s done,� were his only words, as he turned and fled back up the winding stair case in a flash of dark cloth.
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Chapter 4
"The Price" Contents
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