He knew her, and by extension the others quite well now. They kept odd hours, but for the most part tried to sleep at night. They drank vast amounts of coffee, except for one who drank blood, and another who drank tea. She rarely left the hotel at all, unlike some of them, who left at night when the sun had gone and returned in the wee hours of the morning exhibiting all the signs of a successful hunt.
He heard her sing sometimes, her voice soaring in joy. Another voice would accompany her at times, and the two would blend seamlessly, creating perfect harmonies. A pity he was tone deaf, and could only hear the words. Still, they only sang when the others were out, and provided a clue for him as to when they were alone together.
What he needed was for her to be completely alone, but that had yet to happen. He knew he could subdue the green-skinned demon in fairly short order, but this was a holy time for him, and he wanted to keep the violence to a minimum.
And then, of course, there was the fact that the hunt was the fun part. After the kill, metaphorically speaking, there would be nothing to do but go home and claim his inheritance, and the Ecthros had assured him there would be plenty of time for that.
It was getting dark now, blackness falling on the thirteenth night of his vigil. Almost as soon as the sun had gone, the broody-looking blood drinker, the brown-haired woman and dark, bespectacled man had left, all visibly armed. Shortly afterwards, the black man and the thin girl had left in the opposite direction, obviously on the way to a significantly less violent activity.
Above, the stars spun.
Finally, around midnight, a figure in a suit, sunglasses, and a fedora left the hotel. She came to the door to see the demon off, and though he couldn't hear the words that passed between them, their body language spoke loudly of lack of confidence on his part, and reassurance on hers. If only they knew. The demon squeezed her hand, and stepped off the stairs and down the street out of the lamplight. She disappeared back inside.
Across the street, he smiled.
* * * * *
It had taken her almost half an hour to convince Lorne that she would be all right by herself. He had people to see and auras to read, and she didn't really enjoy the demon bars that his clients frequented. That, and a lot of them were terrible singers, and she hated it when things sang off- key. She couldn't fight with Angel, Wes and Cordy, and she was damned if she was going to be third wheel for Gunn and Fred. It would only be a little while.
She latched the front door shut, and crossed the lobby to the back door to repeat the process. She flicked off the main light, and turned on the small lamp on the old check-in counter. The shadows cast about the lobby took on a menacing appearance, but she'd seen much worse, and it didn't really bother her.
What did bother her was when of them moved.
She only just caught the movement out of the corner of her eye, and she spun to follow it. There was nothing there. She spun around again, sensing a presence.
"Lorne?" she called out, knowing that it wasn't him, but hoping for the best. She inched towards the weapons cabinet.
She heard a whispering sound, and she tried to find the source, but it kept moving. The sound grew louder, and she identified it as chanting, but she couldn't understand the language. Hannah gave up on the weapons cabinet and made a break for the door, but she'd only gone a few steps when she stopped, unable to move.
She felt a great weight on her head, and the pressure of it forced her to her knees. She cried out in pain and alarm. Finally, the speaker stepped into her field of vision. He was tall and hugely muscled, and his voice carried the over tones of an unspeakable evil as he chanted. In vain, Hannah tried to block her hears with her hands.
She thought she might explode. It was like the Christmas dinners she remembered from when she was little, the ones where she used to eat and eat and just when she felt that another teaspoon of potatoes would kill her, her mother would bring out dessert. Except this couldn't be cured by lying down for an hour or throwing up. She didn't know how to release the pressure that was building inside her, and it was causing her pain.
The chanter, half forgotten in her misery, reached the climax of his incantation, and something bright white came out of him. He screamed, and the light bore down on the still motionless Hannah. She tried hopelessly to get out of the way, but there was no escape. The light enveloped her, and the pressure grew so much that she wondered if she had any bones or skin left at all.
And then the world exploded.
{Hannah locking the door. Wesley and Angel fight a vampire in the street. Hannah enveloped in light.}
Wesley flew through the air and landed at Angel's feet. The vampire Wes had been fighting advanced on them. Cordelia fumbled with a crossbow bolt. Angel pulled Wesley to his feet and handed him another stake.
The vampire stopped its advance and grabbed its chest. It fell to the ground screaming.
"Uh, did you do that?" Cordelia asked.
"No," said Angel and Wesley together.
The vampire began to cry, its face reverting back to human form.
"So many, so much blood. It tasted so good and I needed it, but it was wrong, wrong, wrong," it moaned.
"Now I'm really confused." Cordelia admitted.
"It has a soul," Angel said in an awed voice.
"How. . ." Wesley began, then his eyes flashed in alarm. "Hannah!"
"Let's go," Angel said flatly.
"No," Wesley said quickly. "You can't, Angel. You can't go anywhere near her."
"I've got to do something."
"There's liable to be quite a bit of chaos tonight," Wesley pointed out. "Why don't you and Cordelia stay out and patrol? This is going to require magick, not killing things. Well, you'll likely have to kill something eventually, but until then, the streets are probably the best for you."
Angel set his jaw, clearly unhappy with the situation and just as clearly unable to change the situation.
"Go," he said. Then, he turned and left with Cordelia.
Wesley cast one last look around the alleyway, and saw the vampire, which was still crying on the ground. He was overwhelmed with pity, but he knew he had to walk away. He dropped a stake on the ground on his way. Wesley didn't look back.
{Wesley is thrown again a wall. Cordelia sights down a crossbow. A stake bounces on the ground.}
Fred was quite tempted to just let her cell phone ring. It was only her sense of duty that had led her to bring it anyway. Apocalypses don't usually give advance warnings, and the fast reaction time of Angel Investigations required that she use a phone. She just wished it hadn't chosen tonight to ring.
"You gonna get that?" Gunn drawled.
"Probably should." She looked at the display. "It's Wesley."
Gunn picked up a few more French fries and ate them while he listed to Fred's half of the conversation.
"Hi Wes. . .What?. . .Oh God. Yeah, yes we'll be right there." Fred hung up and waved for the cheque.
"Problem?"
"You could say that."
{Streets of LA, filled with cars. Lorne walking away from the Hyperion.}
She felt a change in the air. There was a movement in the atmosphere like nothing she had ever felt before, and it awakened an old and never sated hunger in her. Souls. She could taste them on the air and she breathed deeply of their essence. She needed to track this to its source and feed. It would fill her for centuries, or even longer, if she found a way to keep the source alive.
The demon called Nihura melted into darkness, and set off on a hunt of her own.
{Various shots of Fred and Gun driving back to the Hyperion. Angel and Cordelia fighting another vampire}
That hadn't worked out quite the way he'd expected. The girl was only supposed to take the soul out of him, not put it in herself. The contract was painfully clear on what happened to him if he couldn't deliver the goods to the Ecthros demon. Options. That's what he needed. Lots of them, and fast. Frustrated, he kicked Hannah in the chest, and the way she reflexively coiled around her middle made him feel momentarily better.
Running for it was sounding terribly appealing just now. After all, it wasn't like the Ecthros had given him anything yet-- they had just opened negotiations. Technically, he didn't owe the demon anything; he just wouldn't get his collateral back. If he made a break for it now, he could get out and forget that any of this had ever happened. Not having a soul is great for memory loss.
Decision made, he kicked Hannah one last time, straightened his jacket, and headed for the door. Maybe this would work out all right after all. He opened the door and gasped.
Then again, maybe not.
{A knife twisting in the stomach. Cutting of the skin and hair. A horrible scream.}
Gunn and Wesley had carried the horribly mutilated body out of the doorway of the Hyperion and deposited it in a dumpster down the block. Fred had helped the conscious, yet woozy and bruised Hannah on to one of the couches, and got her some tea. Hannah was shaking severely, and she jerked as though she were being pulled and pushed from all sides. Fred watched her carefully, ready to save the cup at a moment's notice. Gunn and Wes came back inside and went to wash their hands.
"Did you know him?" Wesley asked gently, taking his cup of tea and pouring something into it. "Hannah? Can you talk about it?"
Hannah jerked abruptly and Fred took the mug away.
"Never seen him. Felt him coming though. Too late. Too late." Hannah raved. "He'd been watching, watching me and we never knew."
"What did he do, Hannah? Do you remember?" Wesley's tone was calm, but it wasn't helping much.
"He tried to give it to me, but there wasn't enough room." She was rocking back and forth now, and Gunn held her on the couch. "Not enough room and now they are gone. All burst out and lost and trying to find homes. She'll eat them if they don't come back."
"The souls?" Gunn asked.
"Well, she did say explosion." Wesley pointed out. "Maybe she meant a spiritual explosion, not a physical one."
"I need them back." Hannah began to cry. "I'm so empty. I need them back."
"Gunn, take her upstairs and give her this." Wesley said, indicating his mug. "Make sure she drinks this, then put her to bed and come back downstairs."
Gunn nodded and picked Hannah up. She struggled slightly, but then gave up and collapsed against him. Gunn shifted the mug and girl into different positions, and then headed for the staircase. He pushed Hannah's door open, they still hadn't got the latch fixed, and laid her on the bed. He held her up and forced Wes' drink down her throat, then covered her with a blanket. She had stopped moving before he turned the light off.
"I don't like this talk of eating," Fred was saying as Gunn came back into the lobby.
"Nor do I," Wesley agreed. "We'll look for this soul eater. Hannah called it a 'she'-- that should help narrow it down. Gunn, I need you to find Lorne. There's no sign of a struggle, maybe he just stepped out. . ."
"And I just stepped back in again," came a voice from the door. "Problem?"
The green demon found himself under the scrutiny of three pairs of eyes. He looked puzzled, and then remembered that there should be four. His face fell.
"Hannah," he breathed, and started for the stairs only to find his way blocked by Gunn. "Now's really not the time, sweetheart."
"Lorne," Wesley's tone brought him up short. "Where have you been?"
"I, uh, I've," Lorne stuttered. He collapsed on to a sofa and said dully. "She said she'd be fine. I should never have left her."
"Hey man, maybe it's better that you did," Gunn said reassuringly. "You didn't see the guy we put in the dumpster."
"What happened?"
"I was out on patrol with Angel and Cordy, and the vampire we were fighting was ensouled right in front of us. It wasn't pretty," Wesley said, shuddering at the memory. "I left them on patrol, got Fred and Gunn and came back here. Hannah was raving about someone, presumably the owner of the body we got rid of, and now she's upstairs sleeping because I drugged her."
"Can I see her?" Lorne sounded desperate. Wesley's face softened.
"I don't see why not. She's unconscious, but. . ." Wes was interrupted by a crash from upstairs.
They instantly snapped to attention, seizing a variety of weapons from the cabinet as they flew up the stairs. Gunn reached Hannah's door first, and shoved it open. He stopped in surprise, and was bowled over by the others as they pushed into the room.
A shell of light surrounded Hannah's bed, warding off the raging demon that was hammering against it with her fists. The demon howled in frustration, and turned to face Wesley and the others. Fred fired a crossbow bolt at it, and the demon brushed it aside in midair. The demon drew herself to full height and howled again. With one last crash against the ward, she flung herself out the window, and disappeared into the night.
"Did you set up a ward, English?" Gunn asked in an awed tone.
"No," said Wesley, sounding preoccupied. "No, I didn't."
"Well somebody did, and it was pretty darn strong." Lorne said, cautiously reaching out a hand to touch the barrier. As soon as his fingers brushed it, it dissipated, and he flew to Hannah's side.
"Maybe Hannah did it reflexively," Fred suggested.
"It's quite possible." Wesley allowed. "I think I know what that was. Gunn, you and Lorne stay up here, just in case. . ."
The two nodded, and Wesley tossed the anagogic demon his axe.
"Fred, we've got work to do."