| Title: Captive of the Soul Author: Yatzee Chapter: 11 Angelus looked down through the web of exposed, dead wires and bare metal beams that had once comprised the roof of his building. He could see the layers of his old existence, strewn in ruins, rendered black by fire. And he could hear her footsteps as she gingerly made her way up the rickety stairs, her cough as she inhaled stray cinders. Oh, Kate, he thought. You're so damn sure of yourself, so sure of everything. Sure that I'm some madman out to get the law-abiding, god-fearing citizens of Los Angeles, assuming there are any. Sure that it's safe to stop wanting me, okay to start hating me. And I do so love proving someone right. **** "What's the plan?" Cordelia whispered as she grabbed the duffle bag of supplies from the back seat. "I wish we had anything so elaborate as a plan," Wesley answered, glancing over at Kate's police car in front of their battered former building, as though his repeated looks would be enough to summon her back to it, safe and sound. "I suppose we're just going to find Officer Lockley and tell her --" "Tell her what?" Cordelia said. "The truth? She'll kill Angel in ten seconds flat, assuming she doesn't get herself killed trying." "And the latter's far more likely," Wesley sighed. He took the tranquilizer gun from the duffle bag, felt the reassuring weight of it, the trigger against his finger. "Point taken. We'll tell her that a demon's loose nearby and we think it might enter the building. That's true, so far as it goes." "And when Angelus jumps out all evil, then what?" "Then I hit him with this," Wesley said, lifting the gun slightly for emphasis, "and Officer Lockley can ask all the questions she likes. I doubt even she would stake him when he was unconscious and obviously harmless." "I'm not so sure," Cordelia said. She lifted up a pair of handcuffs from the bag. "Then again, if she won't listen to reason, I am bondage girl." ****** Kate sat on her heels and traced a line through the soot with her finger. Oily, acrid, strangely smooth -- in other words, plain old ordinary soot. She'd been wondering if this were some kind of supernatural fire, something born of spells or shamans. Instead, she didn't see much of anything that couldn't have been caused by a faulty popcorn popper. Well, okay. A faulty popcorn popper that had been strapped to some TNT. But the explosive traces the lab team had picked up were all easily categorized. The fire had burned wood and been doused by water. Everything had been normal, as explosions go. "A supernatural assassin," she muttered, and frowned. Leave it to Angel to have Satan put a hit on him. Then again, if Angel were telling the truth about this evil thing from beyond, then why wasn't this place -- oh, glowing green or sucked into another dimension or something? What does a supernatural creature need with TNT? Then again, what did a supernatural creature need with an office? With business cards? With human friends? With her? Her ears pricked as she heard a door close by swing open. Kate sprang to her feet, put one hand on her weapon. "Angel?" ***** Angelus smiled. He was ready now, his body tense, his face relaxed into his hunter's visage. He imagined he could feel his prey's proximity on his skin, a borrowed heat second only to the stolen fire that would sink into his body with the blood he drank. And now he could hear three heartbeats, each one hammering with terror he could smell even amid the smoke, sweeter all the time. ***** Cordelia inched her way up the stairs. She and Wesley had split up, which was not necessarily the safest way to go, but would probably let them find Kate quicker. Their old office building wasn't huge, but it covered more ground than Cordelia had ever realized before. Wesley, who had better aim than she ever would, had taken the gun. This left Cordelia with a big duffle bag of stakes and handcuffs, which seemed to be clacking and clanking against each other louder every second. She peered inside for a moment to see what was rolling around -- then took up a tranquilizer gun cartridge, complete with pointed dart. Oh, shit, she thought. Is Wesley's gun even loaded? Even as she thought this, she realized that it was; she'd watched him load it herself. But in her present panic, she couldn't remember if he'd carried extra ammunition with him. Not like it matters, she consoled herself as she hugged the bag tightly against her body. He's only gonna get one shot as it is. She had only the stakes to protect herself. She knew she might fail to stake him in the one try she'd get, a prospect that terrified her only slightly more than the thought of succeeding. Because however much she didn't want to die, she knew she wasn't ready to see Angel turning to dust at her hands. But she'd do it if she had to; she owed it to herself, and to Angel. Cordelia thought, I don't know what else I'm feeling, Angel, but at least, as your friend, I love you. Enough to keep my promise. Enough to kill you. Title: Captive of the Soul Author: Yatzee Chapter: 12 Wesley kept moving through the first floor, crouching low, going stealthily, he hoped. His world seemed to have narrowed to the sights of the tranquilizer gun and the feel of his finger on the trigger. He knew he was a failure at a lot of things, but dammit, he could shoot. And maybe, this once, that's all that was needed. That one good thing was going to outweigh all the rest, save Cordelia, save Kate, maybe even save Angel himself. The floorboards creaked, and Wesley tensed. A slight shifting, clothes against clothes, confirmed his suspicion. Yes, that was close. The next room. He pushed the door open with his shoulder, ignoring the sound -- as best to bring his target closer now, and oh, yes, closer, footsteps approaching -- Wesley spun around the corner and brought his gun even with -- Kate's. She was standing in a mirror of his own position, but with both her hands wrapped around a handgun. "What the hell are you doing here?" she said, her voice almost a growl. "I -- I --" Good God, what was he going to tell her again? He straightened up, tried to look relaxed. "I might ask you the same question. Don't you need a warrant or something?" "Take this as your first lesson in American criminal justice," Kate said dryly. "Major explosions usually constitute probable cause. Can't help but notice you've got a gun. That thing licensed?" "It's a tranquilizer gun," Wesley hastily explained, his voice sounding unnaturally loud. If Angelus were in the building, he had to have heard them by now. "So why are you trying to knock me out?" "Oh, no, no. You're not -- I mean, I was looking for someone else. Something else." Kate frowned and tightened her grip on her gun. "That would be what?" Wesley looked at her for a long moment. "Officer Lockley, do you trust me?" "I don't have a real good track record with that question," Kate said. "But I'll hear you out." Above them, Wesley heard another set of footsteps -- too heavy to be Cordelia's. He saw Kate's eyes flicker upwards, following the sound. "I need you to search this building. If you see anyone or anything that isn't me or Cordelia, and I mean anyone, I want you to fire until you've immobilized -- what you saw. And then stop. Just stop. Don't do anything else. Will you promise to do that, and only that?" "Where's Angel?" Kate said slowly. Wesley found he couldn't answer. He turned on his heel and headed toward the stairs. She'd cooperate or she wouldn't. Either way, he'd done his duty; Kate had been warned. ***** "Son of a bitch," Kate muttered, getting her back against the most-intact wall she could find. Something was going on here, something that had that meek little Englishman ready to fight, something that involved Angel in a very real, very bad way. From now on, she thought, I am trusting my instincts. She heard something fall -- jump? -- in the next hallway, and whirled toward the noise. ***** Cordelia could hear voices, just voices, not words. And that shivery little sound -- almost out of earshot -- made her shake all the way through. Who the hell was talking? Had Wesley found Kate? Had Angelus found her? What was going on? She wanted to call out, knew it was the worst thing she could possibly do. When she hadn't been as deep within the building, the city lights had provided some illumination; enough spaces had been taken out of the walls to let in enough of the streetlamps' glow to see by. But now it was almost pitch dark, and this idea was seeming dumber by the second. She slid halfway behind a support beam and tried to catch her breath. She was freaking out now, pure and simple, and she wasn't any good to anyone freaking out. So she would just go back and find Wesley, and they'd stick together from now on. She'd go as soon as she could be sure she wouldn't start screaming. |