| Title: Blood and Water Author: Ruth Hanna Chapter 4: Cordelia the Vampire Slayer "So, are you from L.A.?" "Hmmm?" Cordelia ran her finger down La Boheme's dessert menu, hovering uncertainly over the chocolate cheesecake. She'd just eaten the best meal she'd had in months and, even better, Todd had hinted more than once that he felt going Dutch was inappropriate on a first date. But did ordering dessert send out I'm-a-potential-binge-eater signals? "Oh, no. I just moved here this year. I'm from a little town up north: Sunnydale. That's where I know Angel and Wesley from - we had mutual friends at my high school. Anyhow, I graduated and when I came to L.A. I ran into Angel. He'd just set up the business here and, really, he's terrific but he has no idea about filing. So I offered to help him out until my acting career got off the ground." "So what do you do?" Maybe she could compromise and order the lemon mousse. How many calories could there be in something that was ninety percent air? "Oh, everything. Straight drama, comedy, and I'm going to learn to dance so I can audition for the musicals." Todd smiled. "I meant, what's Angel's business and what do you do in it?" Cordelia leaned forward, over the menu. Lowering her voice, she said, "He's a private detective. Isn't that glamorous? Wesley does the research and I do... well, I do a little of everything. Office management, client relations, marketing..." She smiled brightly. "And on evenings I battle the forces of darkness." Todd looked at her for a second, then laughed. "You should try out for more comedies. You're a natural." Damn, he was cute when he was laughing, thought Cordelia. And he definitely had a reflection - she'd checked for that when he'd ordered aperitifs at the bar- and so far he had shown absolutely no inclination towards attempting to impregnate her with his demon offspring. Cordelia wasn't sure if her dating standards had dropped lately, but she was willing to concede that on past experience those were all major goods. "Angel thinks so too. I crack him up." "Really? He struck me as being the serious type." "Oh, he is. But I crack him up in a dark-and-broody on the outside, giggling-hysterically on the inside kind of way." Cordelia handed her open menu to the waiter who was hovering with intent next to the table. "Trio of sorbets, please." "I'll have the chocolate cheesecake," said Todd, handing over his menu. He looked back at Cordelia. "You must get on well. I can't imagine letting my boss move in with me. Even temporarily." "Well, he was going to find a motel, but the insurance company hasn't paid up for the office yet, and with the business on hold we're a little tight on cashflow right now. Besides, Angel has this whole dietary thing..." Cordelia waved a hand and trailed off. "But you really don't want to hear about that." "He certainly seems fond of you. He made sure he told me exactly how to look after you before we left this evening." "He did? That's..." Cordelia smiled. "That's nice. I'm getting fond of him. And Wesley. I don't have any family in L.A. and they're sweet." The desserts arrived, and Todd began to attack his slab of cheesecake with gusto. "Yeah. And they make a nice couple." "No," began Cordelia, and stopped, suddenly wondering if insisting to her date that the man currently sharing her apartment was not gay was the best way to take the evening forward. "No," she amended quickly: "They're like, the cutest couple ever, aren't they? Wesley's a doll. Hey, are you eating the rest of that cheesecake?" A sudden noise from the front of the restaurant made Cordelia turn in her seat. The source of the commotion seemed to be an argument between the Maitre D' and a bum who had wandered in off the street. The bum was lurching drunkenly from side to side while the head waiter attempted to usher him back into the street with a gradually increasing level of force. Todd set down his fork. "Maybe I should go help out." Cordelia stared at the mirror behind the bar, where the reflections of the Maitre D' and the waiters struggled silently against empty air. "No. Don't." "It's okay, Cordelia. It'll only take a second." Todd stood up. The vampire growled, and knocked one of the waiters sideways into the bar's metal counter. It shuffled towards the man, slow and unsteady on its feet. Cordelia stared. This wasn't right. This was something new. The vampire bore down on the waiter, pinning him to the counter. Several members of the restaurant's staff had now joined the fray, as well as a few of the closer diners, but it was clear that they were only slowing the vampire down. Cordelia was sure none of them knew what they were dealing with, or how to stop it. She opened her purse and pulled out a stake. "Vampire Zombies from Beyond the Hellmouth," she said to herself: "Starring Cordelia Chase." Todd was staring at her incredulously. "Cordelia, what are you doing? That's a piece of wood, not a..." "Todd," she said clearly: "Sit. Watch. Learn." Gripping the stake so tightly she could feel splinters piercing the palm of her hand, she walked through the tables and across the main entrance of the restaurant. The vampire, grappling with five waiters and customers, as well as its intended victim, was still hunched towards the bar, and took no notice of her as she approached. She took up a position directly behind it, and tapped its shoulder sharply. The vampire broke free from its attackers and spun around to face her, hissing. One of the waiters gave a short yelp of surprise and fear at the sight of the demon's face. As well as the animalistic, heavy features Cordelia expected, the vampire's skin was mottled with a dark red rash and its eyes were feverishly shiny. "Excuse me," she said, "but if you don't mind, I'm on a date here." She plunged the stake into the space between the vampire's ribs, and brushed the resulting dust carefully off the front of her dress. Then she turned and made her way back to her table, remarking to the room in general as she went, "Jeez. The way Buffy acts you'd think it was tough or something." Title: Blood and Water Author: Ruth Anna Chapter 5: A Vampire in the Basement, and Other Errors of Feng Shui "Stop here," said Gunn, indicating a place at the side of the empty street. "We'll walk the last few blocks." Angel pulled the convertible off the road and killed the engine. Gunn hopped over the still-closed door, while Wesley got out in the traditional manner. They began to make their way along the unfamiliar back alleys. "You've moved your base," Angel observed. Gunn shrugged. "Had to. They knew where we were." "Speaking of which," said Wesley, "How did you know where Cordelia lives?" Gunn nodded in Angel's direction. "From him." "Angel?" "When you and Cordelia were in hospital, I asked Gunn's people to watch out for you. They covered your apartments, too, until you came out." "Well, I..." Wesley blinked. "Thank you." "Ain't no damn vamp going to get past us," said Gunn resolutely. He shot Angel a look. "Nothing personal. We're here." He pushed aside a dumpster to reveal a set of steps and, at their base, a scarred wooden door. He rapped it quickly, four quick knocks, three slow. After a moment, it opened. "Chain, it's me. I got two with me." He glanced back at Angel: "And you can consider yourself invited in." The door opened fully, and they ducked inside. The passageway was low, and Angel had to stoop to make his way along it. They descended twice more, once by stairs and finally by a rusty iron ladder whose every rung creaked ominously at the imposition of weight. Jumping the last few feet on to the concrete floor, Angel found himself in a long, low hall, whose walls were defaced by ancient graffiti and moss-green streaks of damp. He made to step forward, and caught himself just before his toe made contact with the nearly-invisible wire thread strung across the hall. Tracking the faint glimmer to its source, he saw a loaded crossbow mounted at chest level on the far wall. "Love what you've done with the place," murmured Wesley. "It's so homely." Gunn scowled at him. "Yeah, well, the guide to Feng Shui didn't offer much about positioning booby traps. "You got a nice apartment somewhere, yeah? This is my home, man, and I mean to make it safe." He hopped over the tripwire. "Now follow me." Hopping, side-stepping and ducking where indicated, they traversed the length of the hall without incident. At the opposite end of the entrance hall, a petite black girl dressed in torn combats and a crop top waited for them. "I'm glad you're back," she said to Gunn. "I don't like having one of them here. It's giving me the creeps." "Not for much longer. I brought the experts." Gunn pointed at them in turn: "Cloud, this is Angel and Wes." "Ah, that would be Wesley. Two syllables: Wes-ley." Cloud eyed Angel with suspicion. "I don't like having two of them here," she amended. "Stow it," said Gunn sharply. "He's cool." Angel said, "You still haven't told us what this is about." "I'm gettin' there." Gunn crossed the room until he was standing next to a crate-shaped object draped in an expanse of stained red velvet. Angel began to move closer, but halted at the sight of Gunn's hand raised in warning. "Better stay where you are. This might be catching." Angel opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but before he could say anything, Gunn had gripped one corner of the material and given it a sharp tug. It fell to the floor, revealing the cage beneath. The vampire within lay on its side, twitching but apparently oblivious to its surroundings. It was positioned with one hand extended, claw-like, into the pool of clotting blood on the floor by its head. Even from across the room, Angel could smell it. The vomited blood had an odour that was new to him - not fresh, not stale, but cloying, at once sweet and acidic. He could tall from the expressions on the faces of the three humans that they found the smell distasteful, but to Angel it was almost overpoweringly strong. He turned away. Cloud looked at him sceptically. "Don't tell me blood bothers you." "Not usually." He made himself turn back to the cage. "Vampires aren't known for throwing up." "And seeing that, aren't we grateful for it." Wesley glanced over his shoulder at Angel, then at the cage in front of him, with an expression of keen interest. "Mind if I take a closer look?" Gunn shrugged. "Be my guest. Far as I can figure, the only reason to steer clear is if you're a vamp." Wesley was kneeling by the cage now, moving his hand back and forth through the vampire's line of sight, apparently trying to determine if it was conscious. "So you think this is some sort of disease." Gunn gave Angel a sceptical look. "This is the brains of your outfit?" Angel said nothing, and Wesley pointedly ignored the remark. "It's understandable that an uninformed amateur might conclude this creature is ill, but that's quite impossible. There are no vampire diseases." "You sure 'bout that?" asked Gunn. "'Cos there are one hell of a lot of sick vamps out there." Angel turned to him. "You've seen others?" It was Cloud who answered. "More than a few. It started three or four nights ago, mostly in the downtown neighbourhoods, but they're all over now." "Not that we're complaining," added Gunn: "It's just... well, I don't like it when vamps do unexpected things. And this is one big stinkin' heap of unexpected." "Angel, come and look at this." Angel began again to approach the cage. Gunn stepped in front of him. "Man, I really wouldn't." "It's okay. Wesley's right - there are no vampire diseases. Whatever's wrong with that one, it's not communicable." Gunn reluctantly moved aside, and Angel joined Wesley, crouching on the floor as close to the bars as possible. "What is it?" "I need your night vision. Tell me if I'm seeing things, or is that mottling on the skin really there?" Angel looked at the vampire's exposed face, neck and hands, seeing the livid pattern of bruising on the skin clearly despite the gloom. "It's there. It's like a rash. I've never seen anything like that before." "And I certainly don't recall reading about these... I suppose I shall have to say 'symptoms', for lack of a better term." Inside the cage, the vampire suddenly began to stir. Rolling over on to its stomach, and propping itself up on its hands and knees, it lunged towards them with a roar, before hitting the bars and rebounding with a heavy thud on to the floor. It moaned, retched, and threw up once more before a crossbow bolt to its chest dusted it permanently. Wesley looked at the empty cage, then at Gunn, who was still holding the crossbow raised, and said in annoyance: "I'd barely started examining it." Gunn shrugged. "This operation does not have a policy of taking prisoners. I brought you here so you could see it. You saw. You want to study one up close, go catch your own." He looked at Angel. "Maybe you're right and there's no such thing as vamp 'flu, but I don't think you oughtta be taking chances." The pile of dust in the centre of the cage slowly soaked up the pool of blood. Angel watched the grey ashes turn red, then black, before subsiding into a sodden, bloody mess. "Thanks for the concern, but this could be anything. Poison, for a start." "A person'd need one mighty load of rat poison to do the amount of damage I'm seeing out there," said Gunn, replacing the crossbow on a hook set into the wall. "Look, dead vamps is not a problem for me. But if something's going down on my patch, I like to know why. And if someone's doing this, I'm thinking that's someone I want on our side." A ringing sound distracted Angel from the discussion and he searched the pockets of his coat until he located his cell phone. "Hello?" "So you finally remembered to bring your phone when you go out. Wesley's is switched off. He is such a dolt." "Cordelia?" Angel looked at his watch. "Is your date over already?" "Yes, my date is over. My date is so totally over it's not true. He ditched me, Angel! Can you believe that?" "I, uhh, I'm sorry to hear that." "Not nearly as sorry as I am. It was going so well, and the meal was so nice, and we were hitting it off, and he was going to pay and everything and then I went back to our table and he'd just gone without even saying anything and I *hate* this stupid city and I *hate* that my dates are all psychos..." "Is Cordelia in trouble?" asked Wesley. Angel attempted to tune out the muted stream of self-pity churning in his ear long enough to frame an answer. He covered the base of the phone with his hand. "No. Her date bombed." "Why's she telling you?" Angel gave him a look. "Because your phone was turned off." Wesley clapped him supportively on the shoulder. "Say something sympathetic," he suggested, and turned back to Gunn and Cloud. "...And it was all because of that stupid sick vampire," continued Cordelia. "I knew I should have worn the red dress." "Cordelia, stop. What sick vampire?" "The sick vampire I staked in the restaurant. Did I not mention that?" "Where are you now?" "Walking down Broadway, trying to flag down a taxi. Which is impossible, it turns out. I shouldn't have let him drive." "Stay where you are. I'll come and pick you up. Give me half an hour." He ended the call and turned to the others. "I'm going to get Cordelia. Wesley, if I leave you off on the way, could you do some research on this?" "I'm not sure I'll be able to find much, but I'll certainly look." To Gunn, Angel said: "If you come across any more like this, you should stake them from a distance. Just in case." Gunn grinned at him. "Don't worry. I wasn't gonna offer them hot lemon and honey." |