| Title: Queen of the Night Author: Starlett Chapter 9 "So, you ever been in the apothecary before?" Cordy asked as they pulled into a parking space right out front. You had to love small towns and their always-available parking. "Yes, though it has been a few years. Before my rogue demon hunter phase," he said with wink. Cordy hopped out of the car and slammed the door. "You know, I could never figure out if you were supposed to be the rogue, or if it was the demons who were. 'Cause, you know, all those dangling modifiers." Wes looked miffed. "Well, obviously, I was the rogue. For heaven's sake, Cordelia, why would a demon be a rogue?" He swung the door open for her and she sailed into the shop. "I'm just sayin'," she replied, as her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. It was small, about 15 by 20, and covered, head-to-toe with shelves. Behind the counter was an Asian woman of indeterminate age. She couldn't help but think of the old Chinese couple she'd seen weeks before in her vision, the night Angel freed Billy. Those two people were dead because of her. "Marcia?" Wes asked, startling Cordy out of her reverie. The woman nodded and Wes stepped forward and extended his hand. "Ni hao ma?" he said in flawless Mandarin. Marcia threw Wesley a reassessing glance then took his hand in hers and replied, also in Mandarin. Cordy wandered while they talked in the language's singsong tones, letting the guilt dissipate. She couldn't do anything about it now except live with it. And make sure it didn't happen again. On the shelf in front of her was a large jar. She picked it up and stared. That wasn't...ewww, it was. Dead snakes coiled in some kind of gold fluid. She smacked the jar back on the shelf. "Cordelia," Wesley said. She turned, linking her fingers behind her back. "Yes?" "This is Marcia, the proprietor of the shop. She tells me that Mr. Zhou is expected this morning, and that we are to make ourselves at home." He motioned to a door Cordy hadn't noticed before. "Thank you," Cordelia replied. She stepped into a short hallway. On the right was a door, ajar. Cordy pushed it open and walked through to an efficiency apartment about the same size as the shop. A two-person table was wedged between the kitchen alcove and a window. Cordy's gaze finally landed on Angel, who was seated in an ancient recliner, his big body so still she thought he was asleep. Then he opened his eyes and smiled. "Hey," he said. She went to him and poked him on the shoulder. "Hey," she replied. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She smiled, feeling warm and safe. It was a dangerous and stupid thing to need a vampire. She prided herself on not being stupid. But she didn't let go of his hand. "Mr. Wesley?" Marcia called. Wes went to the door. "Yes, we're here." He stepped back so Marcia could enter the room with a man even smaller than she was. He had a strong, upright bearing, however, and a head full of silver hair. He wore all black and carried a silver-tipped cane, which he rested in the umbrella stand just inside the door. "This is Mr. Zhou. He has agreed to speak with you." Mr. Zhou turned to Marcia and Wes. "Leave us now," he commanded. Marcia backed respectfully out of the room and disappeared into the shop. Wes arched an eyebrow. "Right," he said, looking from Angel to Cordy. "I'll be at the Magic Box. Call me when you need me." He glanced over his shoulder at them before closing the door with a quiet click. Mr. Zhou inclined his head and looked at each of them, his gaze intense, direct. His eyes were dark and endless as outer space. When they landed on Cordy, she trembled, feeling raw. Exposed. The seconds ticked by and the silence grew taut. The old man finally spoke. "You are the Seer," he said to her. He stepped forward and held out his hand. She let go of Angel and clasped Zhou's palm. At the contact, every cell in her body filled with red heat and pulsing light. Visions slammed through her like a wrecking ball. Faces contorted with agony and terror. Knives, guns, bombs. War. They flickered like flames, scorching her soul with their heat. She couldn't contain it, couldn't stop it. She could only stand helplessly as her world melted away and they took over. She was a bomb waiting to explode. But then something shifted. The energy cooled. The faces, once sharp, became blurry and faded away. Around her, the room came back into focus. It looked different somehow, like a net of light had dropped over it. Gossamer strands pulsed with life, connecting everyone and everything like a soft, spidery web. "Yes," she breathed. He dropped her hand. The ground undulated as the room whooshed back to normal, and she grabbed the back of Angel's chair. "And this is your warrior." Angel did not stand to greet him. Instead, he stayed in the recliner, still as a snake waiting to strike. Mr. Zhou walked slowly across the room and settled into one of the kitchen chairs. He waved his hand again, directing Cordelia to sit. A wave of anger rose up in her. She forgot that he might very well be the one person who could save her life. She forgot everything except her need to maintain some sense of control. Angel stared at Zhou like a tiger squaring off over turf. "Please sit down, Cordy," he said quietly. "Cordelia, please," he repeated, when she didn't immediately move. She finally sat. But she didn't relax. "So, a vampire and a human," Mr. Zhou said. "It's an interesting combination. Not unheard of, certainly, but rare," he commented, rubbing his chin. His shiny black eyes flicked over Cordelia as if she were a piece of art in a hotel room, decorative, and designed stay in the background. "How long have you been linked?" he asked, his gaze landing on Angel. "Linked?" Cordy asked coolly. She despised the feeling of being overlooked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Angel shake his head as if telling her to back off. It was the only movement he made, not even the rise and fall of his chest, which he usually allowed. The only time he got that still was when he was pissed. Or threatened. Fear dragged its icy fingers up Cordy's back. "Yes, my dear," Zhou said disdainfully. "As Seer and Warrior." "More than two years," Angel replied for her. His voice was placid, controlled, the way it got right before he went into battle. "And you have fought many battles from her visions, yes?" Mr. Zhou asked. Angel nodded, his eyes unblinking, his stare as direct, as intense as the Chinese man's. "How old are you?" Mr. Zhou, his voice soft but very clear. "Nearly two-hundred-and-fifty," Angel replied. Cordy shifted in her chair. He looked over at her, his eyes sharp and predatory. "And you have never felt as helpless as you are feeling now," Mr. Zhou stated. His head whipped around. "What?" "You are solitary, more by necessity than desire, I see." Suddenly Mr. Zhou smiled. "It must drive you crazy sometimes being hooked up with this one." "Hey!" The comment snapped her attention back to the old man. Angel didn't even look at her this time. He simply grabbed her hand and forced her to stay still. He was cool and hard against her skin. Not remotely human. "She's a pistol, all right," Mr. Zhou said solemnly, as if she wasn't even in the room. "No one's got quite the firepower that Cordy does, that's true," Angel said, squeezing her fingers tightly. "Stop it," she growled, jerking her hand free. She looked at Mr. Zhou. "If you want to talk to me, talk to *me*. And Angel, stop with the threatening vamp act. I don't need your protection." Mr. Zhou laughed out loud. "Well, her mouth is certainly big." Cordy's anger exploded like a firecracker. "All right. That's *it*," she said, jumping to her feet and heading for the door. "But her heart is bigger," Mr. Zhou concluded. The comment stopped Cordy mid-stride. "A sharp tongue is nothing to be ashamed of, my dear," Mr. Zhou said over his shoulder. "The gods did not give us weapons they did not intend us to use. You have done an excellent job defending your heart up until now. But you must change your methods, or the visions will drop you like a stone." Title: Queen of the Night Author: Starlett Chapter 10 Angel sat up, his feet landing flat on the floor. "What did you say?" Cordy turned to look at the old man, her anger popping like an overblown bubble. It left behind a residue of irritation and the frustrating knowledge that she'd just been expertly manipulated. Zhou motioned for her to sit, and this time she did, though not without a huff. Then he answered Angel's question. "They will kill her, as surely as she is now breathing," Mr. Zhou said, his voice calm and certain. "I have heard of it before. The visions are given to one with the spiritual heart to do the job, but not the physical capacity." Cordy's blood pounded in her ears. She knew Angel could hear it, which only made her feel more exposed. "Will you help us?" Angel pleaded in a tone Cordy had never heard him use. "You have been through a lot this year," Mr. Zhou replied. "You wonder if you will survive another blow." He'd lost so much: his faith, Buffy, even Darla. And if she died, whatever happened to him would be her fault. Like the old couple in the apothecary. Cordy made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. "Please," she whispered. "Two-hundred-and-fifty years it has taken you to love," he said to Angel. "It is your heart that is as much at stake here as hers is, if you'll pardon the pun." Mr. Zhou slapped his leg and laughed heartily. "What do we need to do?" Cordy asked in a small voice, so unlike her usual confident tone that she almost didn't recognize it. "You do nothing. I will return to my home, where I will spend time in meditation. This will allow me to determine if we are to work together." "But...." Cordy interjected. "You have to do something," Angel said. "Did you think that I would just take you on without first divining our purpose together?" he asked Angel. He looked at Cordy, and his gaze sent her spinning again, like a blow to the head. "My dear," he said firmly. "I am not one of your MD's who believes he can heal anyone who walks in the door. These treatments are delicate work. They require a soul-level connection that cannot be determined on sight, but must be considered over time." "But, the visions." She could feel them like ghosts hovering over her shoulder. "You haven't seen her after the visions," Angel explained desperately. "She can't go on like this." "And neither can you, evidently." Angel stared at the man for a moment, then dropped his gaze. He took a shuddering breath and looked at Cordy. The struggle between fear and hope showed in his eyes. "At least he's not turning us away. Let's give it a chance." "Cordelia," Mr. Zhou said, drawing her attention to him. "I will give you a remedy which will blunt the pain of the visions. In regard to the other, you must trust whatever gods you believe in to lead you to the right place." Cordy swallowed. "I guess I don't have any choice." He stood. "My dear, our lives are ruled by choice." Cordy looked up at him in confusion. "That's it?" "Yes, we're finished. For now." Angel slid off the recliner and held out his hand. "Thanks." "I will be in touch," Mr. Zhou said, dropping Angel's hand and turning to Cordelia. "I will write down a list of formulas for you, young lady. Get them from Marcia and take them just as she says. You will feel better soon. And after a while we will know if we are destined to work together." "How long?" she asked. "I mean, what if...?" "You are very strong." He took her hands in his. This time when they touched, Cordelia felt the pulse of energy, but her feet stayed firmly on the ground and her head remained clear. "But how long?" she asked desperately. "One week. Two at the most." His hands were like smooth leather. "Cordelia, do not lose hope. The path you seek, seeks you as well." "All right," she replied, her spirits sinking. "Two weeks." "No more." He released her hands. "Angel." He nodded toward the other man. Then he picked up his cane and walked out the door, closing it softly behind him. Cordy collapsed on her chair. "I thought that was supposed to make me feel better." Angel watched the door close behind Mr. Zhou. He was silent for a moment. "Typical shaman." "They have those in China?" "Uh huh." "Oh. When I touched him, I saw...things." Angel nodded. "He was testing your strength. And mine." He rested his hand on her shoulder. "You okay?" She looked up at him. "Yeah. Thanks for last night." Angel nodded then dropped his hand, suddenly looking awkward. Cordy cleared her throat, at a loss for what to say next. There was a pause and from out front the muffled sounds of commerce. "What now?" "Let's go back to Buffy's and get your things. Then we'll head back to LA. I need to see Connor." That silly grin came over her face, the one she always got when she thought of the baby. "God, I miss him." Angel smiled back, all traces of awkwardness gone. "You're so good with him." "Hard not to fall head-over-heels for your best friend's kid," she admitted. "He's got me totally wrapped." "I know the feeling. Now, go call Wes. I'll meet you back at the house. The sooner we get back, the sooner we can see Connor." He made his way toward the door. As he opened it, he looked back at her. "Cordy," he said. She looked up from collecting her bag. "Yeah?" "Thanks." "Uh, you're welcome?" she said, unsure of what he was thanking her for. "You came back. You were there for me. You stand by me, even when I don't deserve it." She blinked. What in the world was he talking about? "That's what best friends do." |