UNFINISHED BUSINESS

Summary: Set in Season 5. Angel comes across a case that is connected to his past, the Nineteen fifties
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All Hail to Joss and ME and FOX. I do not own these heroes I only wish I did. I have no money and will not be making any from this fic.

Angel put the prophecy source book down and stared off into space. Quite a handy thing Wolfram and Hart had going there, able to translate any written word to any known language. There was this little thing he had that niggled at his brain about the translations being absolutely correct or somehow slanted towards whatever scheme the Senior Partners had in mind. Still, he wasn’t convinced if the written words were accurate. Prophecies were a load of bull. They never turned out the way one expected. Take the prophecy about The Master killing Buffy. He rose from the seat he had taken in Wesley’s office and made his way slowly through the deserted offices until he stood once more in his own. This was his favourite time of day or early morning. The night sky drew him as always and he rested atop the arm of his red chair and looked out at the lights of the many skyscrapers that tried to block the view of the stars.

Hands resting on his knees he continued his thoughts of Buffy and The Master. The Master had killed her, sure, but then Xander had given her CPR and she had gasped, sat up, expelling from her lungs the filthy water of her drowning. Angel had been so worried that she had died, that the prophecy was true, and then everything had been all right. Angel felt a smile tug at his lips at the memory of her pretty satin dress and the slaying that had followed.

Then the Shanshu prophecy had been found. It had been a nice thought back then to think that he would be human one day. It had led him to be careless and had cost the life of another champion in his quest for redemption. He knew now that he could never make up for all that he had done as Angelus, he remembered telling Faith that.

His eye on the dark shape of a police helicopter off in the distance he recalled the prophecy that Fred and Wes had been working on, the one that announced a confluence. Connor. Then they put that down to Holtz. Shame and horror rose in him at the memory of what he and Darla had done to this man, the same man who had defied time and came like a thief to steal away someone just as precious from him. His baby son had returned an avenging angel to kill him.

The Father Shall Kill the Son.

Another prophecy only false and Wesley had believed it and acted on it. Angel shifted, stood and paced to his personal elevator. He had mentioned the fake prophecy and Wesley hadn’t understood the words. Angel could work with the man but he still couldn’t forget the fact that Wesley hadn’t trusted Angel with the information. If only he had come to him. The whole tragedy could have been averted. If only wishes were horses. He stepped into his personal suite and wondered again about the Shanshu prophecy. Dare he hope? Did he want to become like Numero Cinco, number five? He realised that he had already started down that road, his heart wasn’t in it anymore and he couldn’t share his reasons with any of them. The bed beckoned and he quickly unbuttoned his dark blue silk shirt, stopping to rub the ache in his stomach, a leftover from the wound although now almost healed. He looked down but the scar was fast disappearing and continued to undress. Maybe he would feel better in the morning he thought as he climbed into the large bed.

Sometimes his days started early depending on appointments and others began at a more civilised time that a creature of the night found more to his liking. This was one of them and Angel found himself at his desk at eleven, still early for any self respecting vamp but hey, he was now in charge of a multinational evil law firm, sacrifices had to be made. He had collected the days’ files and his cup of blood from Harmony and was sipping, not gulping the contents as he read.

Boring, he flipped the file to one side, stake me now and another file landed atop the first. He stopped at number three. This had his name written all over it and not in a good way. He reached for the phone, hesitated about dialling then made a decision.

“Angel’s office, how may I help you?”

“Harmony. Can you see if Charles Gunn is in his office? I’d like to see him.”

His vampire secretary was as dumb as a post but amazingly she managed to handle the intricacies of his office with some efficiency.

“Sure Boss” pause, “As in now this minute?”

Maybe not!

“Yes-Thankyou Harmony.” He cradled the phone and reread the file before him reaching for his now empty mug. Damn. He pushed it to one side, resistance is being strong he told his inner demon that ignored him and growled deep in his stomach.

“Hey boss!” Charles Gunn looked and felt dapper this morning, in fact every morning. He walked to the vampire’s large desk and was pleased to see that Angel looked better today than the night before. He sat down on one of the large plush red chairs.

“Hey Charles. Have you seen this?” Angel waved the file towards his lawyer friend.

“How are you this morning? And I’m fine, thanks for asking.” Gunn teased gently.

Angel looked back at him confused for a brief moment then his face cleared. “Uh. Sorry.” Then he waved the file again not feeling sorry but wanting to get onto business. Before he could open his mouth again, Wesley appeared.

“Morning Angel, Charles.” He nodded to the handsome lawyer as he sauntered over.

“Have I missed anything?” He stopped to stand beside Gunn’s chair.

Gunn looked up at him. “Angel was just about to tell us.”

He looked back to the boss; Angel was giving them the Look. The look that meant could we move on? Wesley seemed unaware.

“How are you Angel? You seemed-” Wesley had become concerned about his friend’s state of mind since the night before and had spent some time worrying instead of sleeping.

Angel stood, clutching the file in his hand, interrupting Wesley’s concerns. “I’m fine.” And he hoped that that would be the end of it.

He handed the file to Gunn and continued, “Did you know about this?”

Gunn quickly scanned the two pages the folder contained and stood handing it back. Wesley grabbed it to see what the fuss was all about.

Gunn answered Angel’s question not really seeing the problem. “No, but it seems legit.” He frowned at his vampire boss.

“Except for the part that involves Wolfram and Hart,” Wesley supplied.

“The lease, yeah” Gunn conceded.

Angel folded his arms and stood there between them, big and dangerous.

“But if Wolfram and Hart are the landlords then there is more to this than meets the eye.” Wesley said as he handed the file back to Angel.

“Angel, is there something more that you know about this establishment?”

Angel threw the file across his shoulder on to his desk.

“The New Man. It’s a front for a demon deli that supplies delicacies to the demon underworld”-

Gunn interrupted. “It says there that it’s all above board, the delicacies include small perishables such as lung fish, newts, toads, grubs, ris ris, clothing etc. It’s a demon supermarket.”

“What it doesn’t say,” Angel began to pace to the window then back. “What it doesn’t say,” he repeated, “ is what else goes on behind the scenes.”

“And you know this how?” Wesley asked watching Angel closely. The vampire seemed more focused this morning than the last few days. Maybe his dealings with Number Five had made an impression. There was a nervous energy in his stride.

Angel was aware of the Englishman’s scrutiny but he ignored it. “The owner is a woman, Constance Simington. The only person I know of that name wasn’t a person and I knew her fifty odd years ago.”

Gunn reached over to grab the file again. “It doesn’t say Miss Simington is a demon here. That’s unusual.” He looked up at Angel and added, “fifty years ago?”

“Yeah. I was in L.A then.” Angel remembered staying at the Hyperion until the guests hung him. Remembered less salubrious accommodations, one of which was a run down basement tenement that had been over run with rats until he moved in. It had been home for a while, he kept to himself as much as possible but had made an acquaintance or two.

He was jerked out of his reverie. “Angel?” His two friends were watching him.

“What?”

“Fifty years?”

“Oh – right. Constance ran a similar operation under a different guise with more than just small perishables. I thought that she left town, it looks as if she’s back.” His hands went into his pockets and he meandered back to the window and peered out at the day wondering about the changes in his life since then.

There was a long silence, and then Gunn cleared his throat. “I’m wondering if Wolfram and Hart knew about this or have they had the wool pulled over their eyes?”

“Hardly likely.” Wesley continued watching Angel watching the skyline. “Somebody has omitted some of the information. Someone with his or her own agenda.”

“Bribery, corruption? Heavens above. Ya think?” Gunn snorted his sarcasm into the room.

“It stands to reason.” Wesley crossed over to the window to stand beside Angel. He looked sideways at his profile.

“What did Miss Simington deal in that requires our attention?”

Angel sighed and looked back at the human. “Blood for vamps, human of course and not always from a bottle back then. Bottled O POS was usually stolen. Hands, feet, eyeballs, hearts, babies.” He let the brutality of his words fill in the details for the other two. The raised perspiration and heat beats of his two colleagues confirmed for him the shock of his words.

He added, “ Demon mostly. On the very rare occasion, human.”

He waited for the inevitable question as he turned his head to look back at the daylight, wishing not for the first time to disappear into its warmth.

The question when it came wasn’t the one he expected.

“So! How do you want to handle this?”

Angel turned around to look at the lawyer. Wesley mimicked his movements.

“Find out all you can about the lease, how long, any special conditions and who set it up.”

Gunn strode over to the doors. “On it, check back with you later,” and he disappeared through the doors.

“Constance is a Ssnalek, some sort of snake demon. She’s cold blooded and her scales pass as skin if one doesn’t know what to look for. See what else you can dig up about them, what weaknesses we can find.” Angel walked back to settle behind his desk as he gave Wesley his instructions, his mind already elsewhere.

Wesley opened his mouth to ask the many questions that were bouncing around in his brain. Questions about fifty years ago and what had transpired but what emerged was something other.

“All right. You’ll be here?”

Angel absently picked up another of the many files on his desk, nodding as he did so.

“We’ll go visit the ‘lady’ tonight.” He opened the file and appeared to read but Wesley could tell that he was distracted.

As Wesley left he thought he heard Angel mutter, “A hero’s work is never done.”

Angel sat back in his chair and let the pretence of doing actual work drop. He was pulled back with his thoughts into the past the office around him disappeared.

Then.

He turned the page and shifted slightly, the lumps in the dilapidated chair protested his move. He didn’t notice but in the next instant his long legs straightened in a stretch knocking over the small stack of books that were placed near the chair. The small lamp glowed weakly; a human would have found the light insufficient for reading. The vampire was comfortable with his books in the dark; the tomblike apartment had no windows to let in a hint of streetlight or dangerous daylight, so the need for the small lamp was a luxury Angel allowed. Besides what else could he do other than sleep during the hours of day?

The minutes ticked by, the rustle of paper being turned was the only sound. Finally Angel placed a tattered marker into the book and placed it on the small card table beside the lamp. He rose and paced to the bed in the corner then back again. He could feel the sun setting and he was restless. Sure he could use the sewer access he had found in the laundry room but tonight he wanted to walk and get some fresh air. He paced about his abode it was clean but shabby. He didn’t care to spend money on luxuries. Angel didn’t feel as if he deserved any and he was always moving on. As Angelus he had indulged in all things decadent including fine clothing and as Angel the love of fine cloth had remained. He had spent years half out of his mind with guilt and remorse and his attire had not been a blip on his radar.

He plucked his wool jacket off the bed and left the room, locking the door behind him. The steep stairs led up to the first floor, its’ peeling walls a sad reminder of the lower income the residents earned, the landlord not caring about the repairs. Half the building was empty, squatters had moved into rooms unfit to lease, Angel he was one of those. As he exited the building he noticed a small dark figure huddled near the door. He sniffed and decided probably one of the demon squatters that had taken up residence here. Times were changing and soon buildings like these would be torn down to make way for new.

He stood on the pavement debating the direction to take admiring the last of the evening light as it faded. He decided the park; there wouldn’t be so many humans about. Something about being out after dark in the great outdoors frightened humans and with good reason he thought. There were many things to be afraid of lurking about in the dark. Of that he could personally attest.

He passed the hurrying crowd of humans eager to arrive home after a hard day’s work. He noted the fact that a few were women and it was becoming increasingly so. The latest war had indeed changed the world in more ways than one. America was coming into its’ own, becoming wealthy and powerful, the opposite of the appalling thirties where many starved or became homeless.

His steps carried him into a better part of town, led him past many thriving businesses, apartments new and old. The crowd had thinned and the rush of cars had eased. He saw the trees beckoning at the intersection and waited for the signal to cross. His feet hit the path that meandered away through the gloom of the trees and gardens. Angel breathed in the aroma of freshly mown grass, the air sweet with the scent of the flowering plants. He took another unnecessary deep breath relishing air that did remind him of earlier times when petrol fumes had not polluted. So he continued to walk, taking in the exercise, savouring the freedom of the great outdoors. He passed the odd couple out for a stroll; one park bench bore witness to one romantic tryst. Head down looking at the lovers from under lowered brow, he envied them their lives, and their simple cares.

Hours later he found his steps had taken him to The Book Worm. The establishment presented a dingy window and rickety door set between a drycleaners and a hardware store. The bell tinkled as he made his way inside, the smell of musty books greeted his nose and if he were human, would make him sneeze. As it were he quietly closed the door and headed for the shelves to browse quickly before making for the counter. It was late for any bookstore to be open but this was an unusual shop. Humans occasionally came but only during the day, the stores’ main trade took place after dark.

Angel spied a novel he thought might hold his interest and took it to the attendant at the counter.

The thin sallow being who manned the till tonight looked at him from under his large woollen hat.

“Exchange or buy?”

Angel had forgotten to bring along books to exchange so was forced to buy.

“Buy” he said. “I need some supplies,” he added.

“Sure,” the thin person nodded. “You know the way.” He pulled a lever and the counter top swivelled to allow access to the closed door beyond.

Beyond that door lay another room, much larger with shelves filled to bursting. A couple of refrigerators stood purring at one end and Angel headed for those.

“Good evening!” An attractive woman stepped out from behind a cabinet that she closed behind her.

Angel heard the breath of another behind another row of merchandise.

He inclined his head to the lady. “Evening ma’am,” he answered politely.

“Come now,” she chided as she drew near. “You can call me Constance.”

She was attractive but she wasn’t human. Her red hair curled about her eyes and down to her slim shoulders. Her eyes were a brilliant green and they looked him over appreciatively.

He ducked his head becoming self-conscious with her scrutiny. He knew her as the owner of this place and it wasn’t the first time she had invited him to use her name. His eyes were drawn to her neck but not in hunger. Demon blood held no interest for vampires; it was her skin that fascinated him. It appeared smooth and unblemished, tanned to a slight golden hue. Angel’s eyes were keen and he knew that her skin was made up of tiny scales, the golden hue a natural colour not sun induced.

He looked up into her eyes and caught the flicker of the second set of lids.

She sighed when it seemed he wouldn’t speak further. “The usual?”

He nodded and she let him go. He felt her watching him as he opened the fridge and withdrew a bottle of blood. Human, O Pos. When he turned she had gone back to her inventory and he heard the door open to admit new customers, demons, male and female. They headed for a shelf that contained boxes of small live things the like of which Angel didn’t wish to know. He slipped by them with his food and paid for it and the book, the shop assistant wrapping the blood in a plain paper bag.

He knew he shouldn’t be uneasy about visiting The Book Worm. It was a place that demons frequented for supplies and reading material and he being a vampire was welcome. He doubted that they had many vampire customers, most preferred blood from a living neck. Though they did keep a good supply he thought as he strode away down the empty street. Maybe there were vampires out there laying low or there were other demons that imbibed of the good stuff. He was never at ease there or was it Constance and her attention that he was afraid of?

Angel lengthened his stride relishing the exercise and the near empty streets were far more welcoming than the earlier bustle. As he neared his lair he caught a whiff of something familiar. Not pausing he identified it as the demon huddled on the building’s doorstep earlier. It was in the area, not a threat he thought and dismissed it.

“Boss?”

“Boss? ANGEL!”

He blinked. Harmony was before him her pretty face close to his.

“What?”

“It’s one o’clock. I’m off for lunch. Is there anything I can do for you before I go?”

“I’m fine. Go.” He waved a hand at her and she backed away beaming.

“See you at two thirty then.” She spun in a pink blur and was gone.

Angel sighed and rose from his desk to stroll to the window. Who would have thought? Looking out at the bright world out there, he had to squint against the daylight; he would never have imagined he would end up here. For years he had wandered with no purpose or no inclination to be a part of the world. Now he had the power of life and death in his hands. Well, he shrugged he had always had that. He looked down at his hands and could practically see the blood staining them red from all those decades as Angelus.

He decided that work could wait and closed the blinds with a push of a button. He strode to the doors and closed them and thankfully sank into one of the armchairs and welcomed the gloom and solitude in which to continue to brood. Anyone glancing at the darkened office would think that he was out so he relaxed.

Then.

For the next few nights Angel did as he usually did and that was to leave his room and wander the city. In one dark alley he dusted a couple of vampires, they thought he was encroaching on their territory. Anyway they gave him no choice as they attacked first. He tried to stay out of trouble but if trouble came a knocking he didn’t shy away, he could handle himself.

Angel detected the familiar odour of his demon neighbour at enough intervals to know that he was being watched and followed. A fleeting glimpse of a shadow confirmed but being a vampire he just took to the roofs above and left the stalker behind.

“Hey mister?”

The voice caught him by surprise though the presence hadn’t. Nobody spoke to him; he knew no one and that suited him. He turned his head slightly to see his stalker standing beside the park bench that he had commandeered.

The young lad shifted nervously as Angel looked him over not saying a word.

The boy coughed and gathered his courage. “What’re reading?”

Angel looked down at the slim book of poems he was reading then back to the boy. He had brought the book with him into the crisp night air. The moon shone bright and he hadn’t gone further than the park.

“Browning.”

“What sort of stories does he write?”

“She.” Angel corrected. “Poetry,” he added.

The boy sat suddenly deciding that Angel wasn’t going to bite. “Poems?” he snorted.

Angel looked the lad over again. Demon. This town was full of demons. He wondered how the humans missed this over and over.

“Poetry. Writings of the soul.” He handed the book across and slightly clawed fingers received it carefully.

The pointed ears showed under lank hair and the extra whiskers above the brows accentuated the yellow eyes. The boy read the first line then looked up and over to Angel. The vampire nodded to him and he bent his head again to read.

Angel sat watching the odd person stroll by, listened to the city and was very aware of this new creature beside him. The minutes ticked by but he was comfortable in their silence.

“It’s beautiful.” The boy breathed his admiration.

“It is.”

The boy held the book out to give it back. Angel shook his head.

“You take it. Read it, return it when you’ve finished it.”

The book was clutched gratefully to his chest. “I’m Danny. I live in your building.”

“I know.” Then because he realised that the lad was waiting on his name he added, “Angel.” He was uncomfortable with his own name, the English version of Angelus. But he wasn’t Liam anymore, hadn’t been for centuries, Angelus he answered to, few had called him Angel.

“You’re not human are ya?” The yellow eyes stared at him.

“No.”

“Are ya-”

Angel interrupted the barrage of questions. “You best be off home. It’s late.”

Danny stood and backed up a step. “Okay. Mum will be looking for me.”

Angel watched the boy walk away and then turn in the dark to look back.

“I’ll see ya!” The lad spun and ran off towards home leaving behind his new friend.

Angel sighed then stood. He now had to look out for another and he could barely look after himself. He hoped the boy lost interest and kept away. Maybe a walk to the promenade was in order. He melted away into the care of the shadows following the tang of the ocean in the air.

When he rose the next evening the boy was waiting for him, the book cradled in his arms. It became a ritual. Danny waited for Angel to rise and the vampire exchanged one book for another. Words were spoken that bled into sentences that became conversations centred on the written word. Danny gained admittance to a vampire’s lair Angel gained a friend.

Angel never mentioned the bruises the boy sported on occasion and Danny never brought up the vampire thing. For that he was grateful but Angel was feeling concern for Danny something he swore he would never do after his treatment at the Hyperion. He was worried.

Wesley was worried. Angel wasn’t himself and hadn’t been for some time. The vampire with a soul was losing hope. The vampire who wasn’t a ghost that is. Spike. Now there was an interesting creature. Spike had a soul but he swaggered about handing out insults, the soul not a hindrance. It was as if Spike didn’t have a soul, there was no sign of remorse. Maybe it was Spike that was grinding Angel down. Spike handed out the jibes to his grandsire with relish. Wesley found it tiresome when it was directed at him; heavens knew how Angel felt taking the broadside of most. That wasn’t true. They all knew how he felt, Angel didn’t like the guy, couldn’t stand him.

Wesley closed the file on the notes he had taken; one of his staff had already typed them up. He pushed back from his desk and swept up the remains of his lunch and tossed it into the waste paper basket on his way out of the office. As he approached the office that was Angel’s, he saw Charles Gunn and Harmony whispering outside the closed doors.

“What’s up?” he enquired, as they broke apart to face him.

“Shhh!” Harmony put her finger to her lips.

He automatically lowered his voice. “Is there a problem?”

Gunn ducked back from the opaque windows that he had tried peering through.

“I can’t see anything.”

“See what?” Wesley wanted to know.

“I think the boss is in there. I don’t think he wants to be disturbed.” Harmony whispered.

“How do you know?” Gunn hunched down to her height.

“Hello? Vampire here.” She flounced her blonde head. “It’s a thing.”

“You mean the doors are closed so you assume he wants to be alone?” Wesley was sceptical. He tried to go round the two of them.

Gunn put his hand on his arm to prevent his advance. “It’s dark in there. Probably got his brood on. Do you really want to interrupt that?”

“Look! I don’t know what games you two are playing but Angel wanted the update on The New Man and Constance Simington and have it he shall.” Wesley shoved Gunn’s hand away and pushed open the doors.

He blinked at the gloom as his eyes adjusted from the brighter lights of the foyer. The blinds were drawn, the desk lamp was off and - Angel was ensconced on a chair in the darkest corner. Wesley had to admit that the offices of W&H must be a little bright for a creature that was used to the darkness of the night. His step faltered and he turned to see his two co-workers peering through the door.

He turned back and Angel was beside him, his movement so silent that he startled at his proximity.

“What have you got?”

Wesley placed the file into the outstretched hand as Gunn entered the room.

The blinds opened and the lamp clicked on before they both had time to register the quickness of Angel moving at vampiric speed.

Angel had been lost in his thoughts to the exclusion of all else. Then the whispering had penetrated through the memories and the door opening had pulled him back into the real world. He kept his face impassive as he read through Wesley’s report.

“So. Ssnalek. Not an aggressive lot, keep to themselves. Cold blooded, excellent business sense, sounds like some lawyers I know.”

“Hey!” Gunn pouted.

“No offence.” Angel glanced at his newest lawyer. “ The usual slice and dice should do it then.”

Gunn stuck his hands in his pockets. His pinstripe suit looked fine on his tall frame.

“The lease was taken up twenty years ago and the funny thing is, is the rent. It hasn’t kept up with inflation.”

“Rent controlled?” Wesley sat on the arm of the nearest armchair.

“No. There’s a clause that specifies repayment in kind.”

“What?” Angel asked his brow furrowed dreading the answer.

“Don’t know but not hard to guess it won’t be sugar and spice.”

“It’ll be the kind of things that someone at W&H wants and needs.”

“The sort of things that Constance deals in.” Angel felt bad. He should have done something permanent about Constance when he had the chance. Now she had come back to remind him once again how pathetic his life was. How he was.

“Who negotiated the lease?”

“Holland Manners.” Gunn looked up with a puzzled look on his face. “That rings a bell.”

“Darla, wine cellar.” Wesley bit out keeping the explanation short. Not one of Angel’s better moments, though it could be said that what had happened was poetic justice. What followed had been a dark period in all their lives.

“Oh.” Yeah, Gunn remembered all right, the firing and the debacle of going it alone. It didn’t hurt, as it had, there had been much worse in store for them in the following years.

“Where’s Spike?” Angel asked surprising them both.

Wesley answered. “In the lab with Fred.” He was glad that Spike was incorporeal else he would’ve been jealous of the amount of time the vampire spent with Fred. And she seemed to enjoy his company.

Angel let out a relieved breath. Good, one less distraction.

“I take it that Constance has help running her business?”

Gunn answered Wesley. “She has help. A staff of four according to the Intel.”

“What sort of help?” Wesley leaned back to look up at Gunn.

“The evil sort.” Angel remembered the help back in the fifties and they hadn’t been human. They hadn’t appeared to be evil but then evil rarely did. Evil could hide behind twelve hundred dollar suits and pretty faces. Evil could do a lot of harm from that position.

“It’s fine Harmonica. I’ll make my own way- Hey there cupcakes!” Lorne sashayed into the office waving a green hand at Angel’s secretary out in the foyer.

Angel focused his dark eyes onto the Pylean. “Are you free tonight?”

“Why sugar? Is there some big evil you wish for me to entertain? To hear some loony tunes? Hmm?” His suit a brightness of purple that Angel found burned a hole in his retinas, crinkled as he sat elegantly crossing his legs.

Mindful of the conversation that he had had with Lorne in the limo Angel had accommodated his plans to include the suave empath demon.

“No. Recon with me tonight.”

“Moi? Well I’m flattered Angel cakes, but why me? Why not these two?” He pointed at Gunn and Wesley.

Gunn and Wesley just looked at him until he dropped his finger.

“They are coming too, but I need you with me. The New Man, heard of it?” Angel raised a brow, Lorne had his ear to the ground and not much escaped him.

“The New-?” He thought a moment. “Is that that discreet little demon specialist outlet? I never used them while I ran Caritas. Heard they could supply just about anything but I was loyal to my own wholesalers. Why?”

“Apparently the place is run by a Constance Simington. A Ssnalek demon. Angel believes she’s trading in body parts among other things.” Gunn gave a grimace at the thought of the body parts part.

“Angel?” Lorne looked back at the vampire but Wesley caught his attention.

“So are we to understand that you want Lorne to accompany you to Constance’s place as customers and we are?” Wesley left his sentence unfinished.

“Humans are welcome as customers only for outward appearances. They are never allowed through to where the real deal is. You guys can be humans purchasing?”- Angel glanced at Gunn who supplied the rest of his sentence.

“Men’s clothing store. Off the rack, middle range gear; affordable and fashionable.” He turned to look at his English co-worker.

“You could do with some new clothes. Have you thought about a suit Wes?” His eye travelled over the casual, comfortable outfit Wesley wore, his eyes held a hint of mischief.

Angel looked down at his attire and wished for his black back. Perhaps tonight out kicking some butt. He hated having to wear a suit, pastel shirts. Ugh!! He gave a mental shudder. At least he drew the line at ties. And he did manage a dark blue or burgundy shirt when no one was looking.

“Yes, well!” His voice dripping with sarcasm, Wesley countered with, “They say you can tell a lot about a man by looking at his clothes. What does yours say Charles?”

“Sophisticate. That’s what.” Charles Gunn, attorney straightened his tie with pride.

“As much as I love the hub bub about clothing, can we get back to the plan for tonight?” Lorne glared at his two sparring friends and turned his gaze back to the man with the plan.

“We go as soon as the sun sets.” Angel held up his hand as his crew began to speak.

“I know we can go earlier thanks to the special glass and all, but not much good to me if something goes awry. Lorne and I will go through to check out the goods while Gunn and Wesley will scout out the perimeter and keep the guard in front busy.”

“Don’t you think that Constance will recognise you when she sees you?” Gunn had a good point.

“Can’t be helped. Demons only and we have to find out if she is running a legitimate business, in which case,”

Wesley interrupted. “It won’t matter if she recognises you. But if it isn’t?”

“We slice and dice.” Gunn had that eager to slice and dice look on his face.

Lorne however seemed unsure. “Slice and dice? Violence right? I’m a lover not a fighter crumb cake, are you sure that I won’t be in the way?”

Angel had to admire the Pylean. He was ready to help at great personal risk considering he wasn’t a trained warrior.

So he simply said, “we need you.”

Lorne looked at Angel and knew that the vampire was reminding him of an earlier conversation. The vampire continued to surprise him and he nodded his thanks.

The former head of Angel Investigations stood to indicate the meeting was over and was rewarded with the appearance of Spike. Angel clenched his hands in frustration and forced his fingers to relax as he stifled a groan.

“Sooo! Did I miss the big pow wow? Big evil a brewing? Or is this just one of those deals where you get to sign a piece of paper and your dirty work is done?” The bleached ghostly vamp swaggered around the desk and plonked his butt in Angel’s chair.

“Spike!” Eyes narrowed at his nemesis, the older vampire jerked his thumb to indicate to Spike that he had better get out of his chair.

Of course Spike ignored him and put his boots up on the desk. Angel briefly wondered how an incorporeal body could do that when he could usually walk through solid objects. The CEO of Wolfram and Hart decided to ignore him and did so by turning to his friends.

“I’ll see you guys later.” He turned towards his private elevator as Spike yelled behind him.

“Hey! I was talking! No need to go off in a huff, you big pansy. If you want your chair you can have it.”

It was no use, Angel turned as the doors began to close to see Spike rounding the table to catch up with Gunn and Wesley.

Lorne asked, “What’ll I wear?” and the doors cut off Angel’s shrug.

Spike caught up with Gunn causing the tall black man to side step him as Spike bounced in front of him. “What’s up Chuck? Something interesting going down?”

“If you call tagging along with Angel and Lorne to do some shopping interesting.” Gunn down played the whole deal trying to spare Angel Spike’s company tonight.

Spike wasn’t sure he was buying it. “What? It takes four of you to make a list? Wait! Come to think of it, Peaches can be a bit anal about his dress.” Spike chuckled at his own wit. He saw Gunn smirk at his joke and wondered if he had found a new friend.

Gunn sobered and truthfully added, “We were discussing company business. Leases and contracts.”

Gunn saw Spike’s eyes glaze at that information as he had hoped.

“Boring! I don’t know how you live with all the excitement?” He spun about and headed off to the stairs. “I think I’ll go and annoy Fred some more or that Knoxie that keeps fawning all over the chit.” Spike did what he did second best he disappeared.

“That was cleverly done.”

Gunn turned to see Wesley hovering in a doorway.

“Thanks I thought so too. The boss doesn’t need Blondie tagging along tonight.”

Wesley who was still smarting at the thought of Knoxie and Fred together, nodded.

“Yes. He does tend to irritate doesn’t he?" He hoped that Knoxie would be on the receiving end of that irritation tonight.

“So. You noticed that too.” Gunn walked over to lean against the doorframe that housed the ex watcher.

“You are talking about Angel?”

“Not the irritate part. The man’s under enough stress as it is.”

“It’s not going too well is it?” Wesley rubbed his stubbled jaw as he thought.

“I think it’s the sitting at the desk signing papers that he doesn’t like. Not enough violence to relieve the tension.” Gunn knew this for a fact as Angel had virtually said so.

“Yes. Vampires and violence. To be honest though, I think it’s the lack of hands on that he misses. To actually see the person one is saving is reward enough.”

Gunn shrugged and stepped away. He narrowly avoided an intern hurrying along with a handful of papers.

“Sorry.” They both spoke. The intern gulped and hurried away.

“I’m outta here. Will see you back here at seven?” Gunn’s long legs took him away and Wesley headed for his office.

“Yes Harmony. Cancel my appointments for the afternoon. What? No! I do not want to shake hands with the new head of the Kaliff clan. Why? Why are you still on the phone? Why haven’t I killed you yet?” There was silence on the other end before a soft click was heard.

Finally! Angel crossed to his decanter of blood and poured a glass. He swallowed greedily as he headed for the couch. It wouldn’t hurt to brood for an hour would it? A guilty part of his brain reminded him that he had accomplished nothing for the day so far. He pushed it away. After all he was the boss wasn’t he? His empty glass clinked on the coffee table and shucking his jacket the vampire sat down. Then he lifted his legs and lay along the couch, his head pillowed by the armrest. His mind though refused to rest, it returned to his previous thoughts of the day, to previous times.

Then.

Angel found he looked forward to Danny’s visits. Someone to talk to, even though Danny supplied most of the conversation. Angel was used to lurking in the shadows, listening to others speaking. He found himself caring about the boy and was about to do something he vowed not to do again. Get involved in Danny’s life.

They were in the park, on the bench where they had exchanged their first words. The chill in the night air had no real bite; warmer weather was on its way. The vampire’s keen eyes surveyed the fresh bruise showing above the neck of the boy’s sweater.

Danny’s father worked in a local butcher shop and his mother had casual work at a drycleaners a bus ride away. Demon labour was about if one knew where to look. Most worked out of sight of humans, those that did passed for human. There was a whole demon underworld that most Americans were unaware of.

Danny’s reading and writing abilities were excellent. Angel inquired about schooling.

His mother had home tutored the lad as he could hardly go to a human school. Danny had mentioned a Cally and a Joey that lived in the neighbourhood and Angel understood that they were friends.

Tonight they were both silent. Angel was worried about the bruise, it wasn’t the first he had noticed and wondered about mentioning it. The lad was quiet for once and so they both sat silent under the stars.

“Do you have any family?”

Danny’s softly spoken question took him by surprise. The boy knew he didn’t like to talk about his past.

“No.” Angel’s answer was just as soft.

“They all dead?” The boy was looking ahead refusing to look his way.

“Yes.” The guilt was all his.

Silence. A car horn was heard shattering the peace then it was only the muted sounds of the city after dark.

“I wish my father was dead.”

The words were barely audible but Angel could still hear the tears hidden in them. He didn’t know what to say to that. So he sat, silent.

A hand reached up to scrub at his eyes and Danny turned his face to look at him.

“Does that make me a horrible person? I think I must be a bad person to want my father dead.”

The vampire with a soul thought about his own father and their relationship. He hadn’t actually wanted his father dead; he had made sure that he was though. He was a bad, horrible evil, evil thing.

“No.” He looked squarely at the lad. He found that hard to do, look people in the eye since he was cursed. “We all wish someone harm sometimes. Doesn’t mean you’re bad.”

The boy took a deep breath. “I do want him dead.”

Angel lifted an eyebrow. “He hits you.”

Danny quickly pulled his sweater up around his neck and smoothed his long hair down to hide the mark.

“It’s the drink.”

“Does your mother?” he left the rest unsaid.

“She knows.” The sorrow and bitterness left Angel in no doubt that the mother was also on the receiving end of drunken fists.

“Can you not leave?” he asked wondering why they stayed.

“I want to, Mum doesn’t. I think he’s gambling, we never have enough, even though Mum works too.” The boy looked at the ground below his feet.

“Do have any other family you can go to? Clan members?”

“Mum’s family come from up north and I haven’t seen any of Dads’.” Danny sighed then continued in a small voice. “Mum doesn’t want the shame you see.”

Angel nodded slightly. He understood the reasoning even if it was wrong. The child’s safety should come first but then a battered woman couldn’t be expected to think clearly. He then did something he vowed never to do again.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Danny looked up, a look of hope shining faintly in his yellow eyes. The look faded though as the boy considered the offer. He shook his head.

“Thanks but there’s really nothing you can do.” He stood. “I’d better go, he might be looking for me.” He hesitated. “Just forget what I said okay? I don’t want you to get hurt too.” A small sob escaped from his throat and he sped away.

The vampire with a soul, the loneliest creature on the planet was left reeling. The boy was worried about him, he an unworthy, disgusting, murderous fiend. He sat trying to take it in, tasting the emotion that suddenly coated his tongue. He had a friend. The first in who knew how long. Decades if one didn’t count Judy at the Hyperion. Judy had betrayed him to the hangman’s noose, although to be fair, it was the Thesulac demon’s doing. He stood. He needed to move, run, and fight, just to be. He would keep an eye on the lad and his parents.

Angel was at his desk, skimming the files and seeing to the running of the company that he had blown off for most of the day. He had almost finished when Gunn, Wesley and Lorne filed in together. Lorne had traded his bright suit for another bright suit. Red. Gunn and Wesley were in more comfortable street wear. Angel glance downwards caught the familiar black that he had donned and he smiled. He paged Harmony and let her go for the night.

“What?” Lorne glared at Wesley and Gunn.

Wesley held his hands up. “I didn’t say a word.”

”But you thought it.” Lorne put his hands on his hips. “Stud muffin, tell these two sartorially challenged fools that I am dressed appropriately.”

“You look fine,” Angel said as he reached for his favourite sword and leather coat.

“Fine? Is that all I get?” Lorne gave the handsome vampire an appreciative glance.

“Looking pretty fine yourself angel cakes. - What?” Lorne found a long knife planted into his fist.

“You may need it.”

Angel turned to Wesley and passed him a crossbow and Gunn received an axe. He didn’t feel the need to inquire if they carried the all obligatory stakes. They always carried stakes. He felt sure that Wesley had a handgun or two on his person. They entered the elevator and soon stood before the row of classy cars that seemed to be his.

“Oh man!” Charles Gunn breathed, impressed as always when he came here. He was even more surprised when Angel asked him to pick one and he settled on the red convertible. It was touch and go as he was drawn to the yellow one in the corner. Even more surprising was the keys being tossed in his direction, Angel calling ‘shotgun’ as he caught them.

“You’re letting him drive?” There was a definite hint of the green eye in Wesley’s accent.

Gunn hurried into the driver’s seat as Angel settled beside him.

“Well I’m never letting Lorne near the wheel of one of my cars ever again. Once was enough.”

“Hey!” Lorne exclaimed as they roared out of the underground car park. “It was my first time, okay? You needed me, so I drove.”

“When was this?” Wesley asked from beside Lorne in the back seat.

“Oh, way back when-”

“Lorne!” Angel’s sharp use of his name changed his intended sentence.

“Oh, that’s another long boring story, one reserved for another time perhaps.”

“We got time.” Gunn insisted enjoying the feel of the car as they purred along.

“Gunn knows the location of The New Man.” Angel answered Wesley’s earlier question as if the last few minutes hadn’t passed and he leaned back into his seat.

“Man! You must’ve been crazy to - Angel?” But the vampire didn’t hear his name or the looks that were pointed his way as he was already back in the fifties.

Then.

Several weeks had gone by since the boy’s confession on the park bench. Angel and Danny kept to their usual routine. Angel taught the boy about literature and history and Danny brought life and community to the solitary vampire. They never spoke of that conversation.

When Danny had departed his company, Angel made it his business to find the boy’s apartment. He lurked outside the window, clinging to the wall, wanting a glimpse of father and mother. He listened to the arguments and watched nightly the attempts a loving mother made to keep the peace. He followed the demon to his watering hole and watched undetected as he gambled away the weekly wage.

It was a Saturday afternoon when he awoke to find his friend absent from the hallway. Not to worry, he told himself. Danny’s been held up before. Truth be told he was getting dependent on the lad for company and that never boded well. He always ended up hurting the people around him. Still, the fear nagged at him, made him pace the small confines of his room. The sun had disappeared below the horizon and the vampire was free to leave the building. He waited outside for a while before venturing to the park. There was no sign of the boy. Angel was worried. He tried not to be, tried to convince himself that they boy had better things to do. Maybe he was off with one of his friends. He stood beside a tree, hidden from passers by, brooding. He didn’t like what was happening to him. He had been alone for so long, the warmth of friendship was like a drug. He was becoming addicted. A walk would clear the cobwebs and his brain. Angel faded away into the night.

When the next evening fell, Angel raced up the stairs until he stood outside the door of Danny’s home. The boy was still a no show and Angel gathered his courage to act. He knocked and waited impatiently for someone to answer. He could sense someone inside so he put ear to wood. A faint sob filtered through the door to his vamp hearing making him knock again.

“Mrs Yano? I’m a friend of your son, my name is Angel, is he there?”

The sobs continued and Angel made a decision. “Mrs Yano. I’m coming in.”

Without further ado he pushed hard against the lock on the door and it gave way unable to stop a vampire intent on entering a demon’s abode that required no invitation.

Angel followed the soft sounds of grief into the small living room where he found Danny’s mother curled up on the floor hugging a cushion. He crouched beside her and peered into a face that sported an eye that was purpling quite nicely and a lip that was split in one corner.

“Mrs Yano?”

The tears kept flowing and Angel’s large hands hovered above the woman’s shoulder. He straightened and righted the chair that lay sideways beside her. Gingerly he grasped her arms and lifted her into the chair. He went down on one knee in front of her.

“Mrs Yano. Where is Danny?”

The woman/demon hiccupped and blinked at him as if just realising his presence.

Keeping his voice soft he asked again. “I’m a friend of your son. I’m Angel. Do you know where Danny is?”

Clawed hands reached for his shoulders. “My-my husband.” Hiccup. “He to-took him. I told him no, but he wouldn’t listen. He never listens! Oh mister. Can you bring him home?”

The vampire placed his cold hand on one of hers and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll try Mrs Yano. Where did they go?”

She released him and wiped at her nose, sniffling. “I work at a laundry two districts away. My husband knows that it’s next door to The Book Worm. Do you know where that is?”

Angel’s insides went a little colder if that was at all possible. He nodded he knew it well.

She continued with hope in her voice and eyes. “Rory gambles you see. He owes a lot of money, to bad people.” Her voice went as cold as the vampire’s insides.

“I don’t care what you have to do, just get my son back.”

Angel stood eager to go. “I’ll bring him back.”

He left quickly and made his way as fast as a vampire could travel to the Book Worm. He had never asked how supplies were obtained and into what other activities Constance dabbled, but his gut told him that whatever was going on with Danny wasn’t good.

The door offered an agonised squeal as the boot of the angry vampire kicked it off its’ hinges. The glass shattered and the store attendant shouted, “Hey!”

Angel’s fist connected with a satisfying crunch and the man went down. Angel jumped the counter and the second door went the same way as the first. As he barrelled into the storeroom Constance stepped before him halting his onslaught.

“What can we do for you handsome?” Her smile revealed a set of perfect if not sharper than human teeth.

Angel took an unnecessary breath. “I’m looking for a boy. Danny Yano. Is he here?”

Constance advanced a step and set her eyes over his shoulder towards the broken doorway.

“And was it necessary to break down the doors to ask?” Her eyes shifted back to his expecting to see contrition there but there was nothing but black-eyed fury glaring back.

“Is. He. Here?”

She shrugged her fine shoulders. “He was.”

“And?” The one word cut like ice from his lips.

“Gregori has him.” She took a step back as he took one forward.

“Gregori?” He tilted his head in confusion.

“Gregori runs an establishment.” The confused look forced her to continue. “Boys, demon and human.”

Of course! His brain seemed to fail him at times. His father had sold Danny into prostitution. In all his years, the things he had seen and done, he should have known. He had had this fear that Danny had suffered a different sort of grisly fate. He was certain that Rory had killed his own son.

“Where?”

“Downtown, below street level. Lincoln Street. You can’t miss it.”

Huh. He glanced around at the merchandise. “What else do you buy and sell that I should know about?”

“Look I’ve told you what I know, now leave us alone.”

Constance had backed well into the storeroom with Angel stalking her and he caught the whisper of movement to his right and he whipped around narrowly avoiding a bat swinging at his head. He ducked and punched his attacker in the stomach and an uppercut threw him back and he collapsed against a shelf sending jars and cans falling. As he turned he glimpsed the blue satin of Constance’s dress disappearing through a hidden door that opened along the same wall that stood the refrigerators.

He followed. It was dark but still he rolled to the ground and lashed out with his leg to topple a sword-wielding demon. It staggered back but swung the sword once more and Angel rolled the other way and scrambled to his feet. It came at him again and he leapt high and over and delivered a bone crushing kick to its leg. It howled and bone shattered and it went down on one knee. As Angel went to finish him he felt a stabbing pain in his back.

The pain spread like fire and he reached behind and grabbed hold of the bolt that had missed his heart. He winced as he pulled and it came away bloody. Time to finish this. The vampire grabbed the demon’s sword arm and broke it easily and removed the sword in a swift motion that also removed its head. Another bolt whizzed by but he was already moving fast. He pinpointed the would-be vampire slayer in the gloom and as it scrambled away he threw the sword hard and it found its mark in the demon’s back.

Staying alert to any new attack he was able to at last take in the room. Constance stood against a wall with a long knife in her hand. Tanks of liquid stood aligned in two rows. His long legs carried him over to peer into one.

“What is this?” He was looking at he was sure were internal organs. Constance just stood and he moved to another.

“Heads?” The pasty grey green masses were still definitely demon heads. He marched up and down until he came to a tiny sad sight that moved him beyond words.

His yellow eyes glared back at the proprietor standing to one side.

“There’s a demand.” She wasn’t helping. “Demons sell us their dearly departed. They get money and disposal and we satisfy our cliental. They are already dead before we purchase,” she pleaded. Then she stopped pleading.

“Why do you care? You’re a vampire. Killing is your game.”

He barely listened as the delicious scent of blood assailed his sensitive nose. Warm human blood! He stooped as he pushed through the partition’s opening. On mattresses covering the floor lay four humans with tubes syphoning blood into jars. His pale fingers reached over to peel back an eyelid. The pupils were dilated. They were drugged. The red liquid called to his inner demon and he growled as he pushed away. He felt sick. He had bought blood from here believing it came from the blood bank where people were paid to donate.

His face still feral he catapulted out of the bloody room and managed to catch Constance as she tried to exit through another secret door. She yelped as her dress tore as she was hauled back towards him.

Angel felt her heart accelerate as he brought her flush against his body. Her luxurious red hair barely reached his chin he was that much taller. She twisted her head to look him in the eye. Full marks for her audacity.

“What? You think we get the blood from the bank? We do, these help ease the cost a little. Why are you so squeamish? You drink the stuff; it’s all about supply and demand. It’s not as if you can’t go out and get some live action.”

He threw her across the room and she landed on her hands and knees beside her dead minion. He knew he should kill her but her words cut. He had been a customer and had contributed to her business. He was no worse than she.

“Get out!” His words hissed around the fangs. “I will kill you if I see you again.”

Constance scrambled to her feet, her dress bloody and torn and she made a dash for the door. Angel steeled himself and re-entered the small partition. He disconnected all the tubing resisting the urge to lick at the spilt drops and picked up the first victim. Once all were deposited out on the sidewalk, including the unconscious front man he stormed back into the shop and began throwing books into the back. He smashed a few shelves and chemicals splashed. Regretting the fate that was in store for all the innocent books he flicked his lighter and left behind a wall of flame. From a payphone down the street the police received an anonymous call.

Angel blinked. The car was stationary, parked a discreet distance away from The New Man. The street was poorly lit though a few neon signs from various ethnic restaurants spilled their garish colours onto the concrete thoroughfare. It was an area that was managing to pull itself out of the gutter and into middle income America.

“You back with us boss?” Gunn was sitting there watching him. The two in the back seat were quiet but Angel could feel the weight of their stares through the back of his head.

Angel clutched at the sword resting against his leg and exited the car.

“Looks like.” Gunn said as he swung open his door.

The others followed suit and hid their weaponry about their person as Angel tucked his sword into his long coat.

“Gunn and I will scout the perimeter, scout out the exits.”

“Perhaps we can block those exits.” Gunn amended Wesley’s suggestion.

“Good idea.” When Angel indicated to Lorne to follow him Wesley added, “we may have need of vamp strength in that area.”

Angel winced at the words that brought back a memory of Caritas burning; Darla pregnant and an exit needed opening.

They approached The New Man and Angel saw that Constance had upgraded. The large window display was tasteful and well appointed but it didn’t hold their attention as the four demon hunters walked by to turn the corner of the small laneway that made delivery accessible. In unspoken agreement, Lorne stayed near the entrance as look out as his three friends surveyed the building’s side doors. The premises seemed to run deep in the alley. A large roll down door stood beckoning and Angel spied just the lock. He silently walked to the end of the alley and without apparent effort pulled at the fully laden dumpster nestled there and towed it back to the garage door. It may not completely block the entrance but it would slow somebody down that was trying to make a hasty retreat.

Gunn and Wesley gave their boss an appreciative look at his initiative and the fact that he made the whole thing look easy. They turned back to their task, which was securing the side exit. The windows were boarded and barred so they ignored those. In the end, Wesley pulled out a gizmo and pointed it at the lock.

“What the hell is that?” Gunn asked eyeing the small metallic object.

“Yeah. What is that?” The vampire was suddenly beside them and peering over Wesley’s shoulder. Wesley barely suppressed the jolt of surprise at his sudden proximity.

“It’s something Fred’s lab cooked up. I thought it might come in useful tonight so I borrowed it.”

“Yeah but what is it?” Gunn asked again.

“It cools metal down to almost freezing which is good for us as it will cause the locking mechanism to jam.”

“How does it work- never mind- just do it?" Angel left the two to join Lorne at the corner.

“All clear?” He asked the Pylean who had stood guard.

“Clear. So what’s the what sugar? Clients you say?” Lorne was never one to back down from a fight and he wouldn’t let the big lug down now even if right now he wished he were sipping on a sea breeze.

The handsome demon tugged on the anagogic demon and urged him towards the door. He heard Gunn and Wesley stepping up behind.

“What delicacies do you miss from Pylea? Any favourites?”

“Oh, I prefer Los Angeles fare but I can improvise.” Lorne chuckled as Angel opened the door.

The menswear attendant blinked at his new customers. His eyes widened at the garish attire of the horned green demon and his shadow that was as shadows go a dark contrast.

“Honey buns! Isn’t this fabulous?” Lorne spun about waving his arms at the multitude of shirts and suits.

He stopped to look at the demon that passed as human. “Do you have anything in yellow? Purple?”

Before the being had time to open his mouth he added, “Never mind. Something dark here for my colourful friend.”

He was off through the shirt section leaving Angel and the assistant slightly shell shocked. Angel could see that Lorne was as usual up to the task. Being himself, Lorne could disarm anything or anyone. The vampire shrugged off the hand that had planted itself on his arm. His glare sent the poor man back pedalling.

Lorne popped up holding a black silk shirt. “This is more your style. What size are you?”

The door opened behind Angel and he didn’t acknowledge the entrance of two humans.

“See! Still open. Come on man! Look at yourself.” Gunn was busy coaxing Wesley as they entered the store.

“All right! I’m here,” huffed the Englishman. He stopped and stared owlishly around meanwhile keeping their weaponry behind his back.

Shop assistant quickly sidestepped his tall dark reluctant customer and went to help his potential human clients. Lorne put the shirt back and came back to his quiet friend.

At the vampire’s barely noticeable head bob Lorne sashayed over to the assistant and his human customers.

“Excuse me honey. My friend and I are in need of nourishment. We heard you might be able to help us.”

At Lorne’s smooth tones the demon/man hurried the Pylean away with an “Excuse me” to Gunn and Wesley.

“Not so loud and not in front of the humans.” He looked back at said humans who were looking shocked at the green Pylean.

“Is he?” Gunn pointed opened mouthed at Lorne. Wesley just pointed.

Angel finally spoke. “Actor.” Three heads turned to look at him as if just noticing the vampire then back at Lorne.

Lorne smiled his most charming smile and added. “And a darn good one too.”

The retailer smiled also. “Excuse us a minute.”

The smile left his face immediately his back was turned. “Be a little more discreet.” Then like a light switch the smile was back. “You require our specialty services yes?”

“Yes.” Lorne agreed and let the man lead them to a door behind the counter.

The man, Angel noticed the nametag on his suit, Norman, nodded at the large spiny clawed demon standing guard in the small anteroom beyond. Then he withdrew leaving them to the mercy of the guard.

“Yikes! Hi big fella. Hey! Haven’t I seen you at Caritas?” Lorne’s nervous chatter didn’t even penetrate the demon’s demeanour. He turned the lock and the door slid open.

Meanwhile out in the clothing department Gunn was trying to interest Wesley in a pinstripe, Norman doing his best with his tape measure.

Angel noticed the upward swing in Constance’s fortune as he stepped into the supermarket style area. Upright refrigerators with glass doors lined the side of the nearest wall keeping company with a Graplar demon that guarded the side entrance. Angel surmised that after human hours, demons came in and out the side door. No wonder Norman had been flustered. The shelves that stood free were covered with all variety of foods, demon and human. He swung his head around to note the clothing section as Lorne in character promptly made for the produce section. Lorne engaged a pretty young demon in conversation.

Angel spied books and headed in that direction all the while committing everything he saw to memory. The book section led to a magic supply alcove and that led to a hidden weapons armoury. The vampire nodded in appreciation at the authenticity of the blades and selected a Celtic long knife. He ran his thumb over the blade to find it had the required keenness he expected. Covertly he was watching Lorne selecting delicacies and his vampire hearing made out every word of a culinary nature.

As Lorne and his helper moved over to the cold stores he inhaled deeply to define the scent of the supplies. As he expected the faint tang of blood titillated his senses but he could not detect a large amount of bloodletting in the immediate area.

So, he mused. That much had changed.

Not so much he amended when he noticed a slender red head approach his friend and assistant. His keen eyes raked over her features. The hair was just as luxurious, the eyes as green as emeralds. The skin or scales were faded to a pale cream adding to her beauty. The only sign of aging Angel surmised. He hoped but did not expect that she had forgotten their encounter all those years ago so he kept to the shadows and did what he did best, he lurked.

The assistant was sent away as Constance took charge. Lorne had the small basket laden with whatever he had chosen and placed it on the floor.

“We are not usually open this early for our ‘special’ customers but welcome,” she said. “I’m Constance and this is my establishment.” She smiled and waved at Lorne’s attire.

“I see that you have no need to avail yourself of the fashionable front of my business.”

Lorne preened. “Why thank you sugar. Some people I know don’t think so. And I do apologise, we didn’t realise the time.”

“We?” Constance turned, as did Angel and all she saw was his back and the dagger he held to his eye.

“My friend, don’t worry about him. Weaponry has some appeal I am told, though I fail to see the allure.” Smooth Lorne smooth.

She pivoted back and was all business. “Is there anything else I can do for Mr?”

“Lorne. Some people know me as The Host.”

“Lorne? Now where have I? Oh! Caritas. You run a club called Caritas. Am I right?”

Pleased to be recognised Lorne beamed. “That’s right, you get around.”

“Didn’t that burn down?” Constance smooth forehead crinkled as much as scales would allow into a small frown.

“Yes it did. I’m planning a come back and you’re invited.” He pointed a green finger her way.

Angel replaced the dagger with a scimitar and watched and listened. He had already placed the whereabouts of the other three employees.

“Thankyou Lorne.” Her delicate fingers brushed his sleeve. “Now if there is anything more?”

“This is a fine establishment you have here Constance. I hate to ask and feel free to say no and throw me out on my ear, but” he leaned in and lowered both his head and his voice, “some of my clients have special needs. Special.”

Constance leaned closer. “How special?”

Lorne took a surreptitious look around. “What have you got?”

Constance stepped back. She bit her lip as she deliberated. Angel knew that on the surface The New Man was legitimate. Past experience though and the fact that Wolfram and Hart were involved made him think otherwise.

The beautiful redhead slid her slender fingers around Lorne’s brightly dressed arm.

“This way.” She drew him away from his shopping and they both disappeared behind a row of shelving.

Angel followed doing his best to look as if he was browsing by picking up his friends shopping and perusing the blood bank as he strolled by. He hoped the human blood that stood beside the pig had been bought legally not syphoned from unwilling donors. If Gunn’s reports were valid they had been.

The vampire did as vampires do and stalked his prey undetected. The demon by the door had dismissed him as harmless. Not too bright obviously. Angel wondered briefly about Wes and Gunn as he rounded the shelves to see a concealed door close.

Gunn was having fun with Wesley. The Englishman had tried on several shirts and suits the ever-present Norman scurried around offering comments and tucking this and lifting that. If looks were daggers Gunn would’ve been buried with a headstone already in place. As it was Charles leaned casually against a wall waiting for Wesley’s next change. He had concealed their weapons beneath a row of trousers while Norman had been measuring Wesley’s inside leg. He chuckled at that. Man, it wasn’t often that he had fun at the Englishman’s expense. Charles inclined his head a little so that he could eye the alcove that his boss and friend had ventured into. What was happening in there?

Hidden doors and secret passages were child’s play to a vampire. So Angel figured that he could have the door open in no time when he sensed movement behind him. He whirled about spilling some of Lorne’s produce.

“Now look at what you made me do,” he growled at the Graplar demon that was bearing down on him.

“Not allowed,” it growled back still advancing.

“Sure.” Angel bent to snatch up something that he was sure that if he ate, it wouldn’t be that and as he straightened threw the basket and all into the demon’s face.

As he expected it didn’t slow the Graplar down but it took time to swat the produce away. Angel let his demon out as his fist followed the basket and hit the Graplar in the face. His knuckles connected with tusk and pain flared as his second fist sank into the demon’s torso. It roared and staggered back and the vampire took advantage and followed with a powerful kick. The Graplar went down hard. Keeping in mind that the demon may just be doing its’ job, Angel kicked it in the temple rendering it unconscious.

“It’s your lucky day,” he told it as he turned and stepped over to the concealed door. His agile fingers felt around until he found the hidden switch and it opened when he depressed it. The faint smell of fear, sweat and something charnel reached his sensitive nose and Angel reached for his phone. He pressed Gunn’s number and let it ring once, then as he pocketed it he pulled his sword free from its’ scabbard and stepped into the beckoning darkness.

Wesley had had enough. As he pulled on his own jacket he swore that Gunn would feel the weight of his revenge. The tall dark ex street kid was having far too much fun at his expense. He glared at Norman who hurried away with the Englishman’s purchases then turned to Gunn. He opened his mouth when Gunn’s cell rang. Once.

All thoughts of rebuke dissipated and both men turned towards the busy demon at the counter. Wesley cocked an eyebrow; ‘mine’ and Gunn withdrew to collect their weapons. Wolfram and Hart’s new Head of Intelligence and Arcane Resources sauntered over to the counter.

He watched the clothing go into a tasteful paper carrier and asked, “What’s the damage?”

Norman leaned over the till and never saw the blow that knocked him out.

As he slumped over the counter his customer grabbed him and none too carefully lowered him to the ground.

Wesley muttered, “inside leg, my eye.”

Gunn joined him with his crossbow and stepped beyond the counter. “Thanks for the help Norman. This way you say?”

Gunn poked his head into the anteroom and locked eyes with the demon guarding the door. His first thought was ‘oh boy!’

“Hi there.” His most charming smile to the fore, his axe behind his back, he let the rest of his body enter the room. Wesley was close behind, the crossbow held ready in a steady hand.

The large and wicked looking demon charged the two human intruders. Gunn heard the crossbow mechanism click in readiness and stepped aside as the bolt flew towards its target. It bounced harmlessly off the spines and Wesley threw himself off to one side to avoid being impaled on any of the spikes.

Gunn attacked the back of its head with his axe, managing to sever a few spines and draw blood. It bellowed and swung round, the tips of its claws scoring Gunn’s arm.

Gunn bounced back on his toes drawing the demon away from Wesley. The demon charged again and Gunn aimed for an arm, missed and ducked away. Wesley let fly with another bolt aiming at the neck. The bolt struck home, apparently inflicting no permanent damage. Now that wasn’t right.

“Wesley! How do we kill this thing?” Gunn panted as he swung his axe at the still turning demon. This time the axe bit deep into ribs. The demon howled and spouted blood but didn’t go down.

“I don’t know but I have an idea” Wesley panted back. “Attack his front.”

Charles Gunn had fought beside Wesley long enough to know to trust his judgment. As he ripped his axe out of his enemy’s side he caught a swipe from a spiny arm.

“Ow! That hurts!” he hissed as blood welled. His arm felt like a nest of bees had settled in for a good sting party, he knew for sure that soon the swelling would start and more pain would follow.

“That’s it. Keep him occupied.”

“Occupied. Okay. Nothing to it.” Gunn gritted his teeth and made to swing- a bolt flew and with a horrible shriek the demon toppled, a bolt jutting from an eye. It trembled then died before Gunn’s unsympathetic eye.

“Nice shot,” he whistled appreciatively.

“Nothing to it. Now lets find Angel.” Wesley nudged spiny as he stepped past and turned the lock to open the door. Gunn had great satisfaction in giving the demon a good hard boot as he went by cradling his arm and his axe.

In the gloom of the passage way an elevator door stood. Angel turned his head left and a stairway beckoned. The vampire didn’t need the dim glow of the lamps to show the way. The stairs led underground and he guessed the elevator did too. Obviously clients got the star treatment. He hoped that Lorne was such a star. He took the stairs silently and quickly his sword in his right hand. The stairs curled around inside a shaft that led below the sewers. As the bottom neared, the light increased a little; a certain vampire dressed in black was practically invisible. Angel was a statue, his vampire senses ranging out to identify any hidden danger.

In the distance he caught the familiar tones of a musical Pylean. As the elevator stood in a rock wall the only way to go was left. He kept close to the wall as the way widened and he caught the smell of fear and something fetid. Footsteps sounded and he appeared to vanish as he faded into shadow against the wall. The feet stopped then turned and started away from Angel’s proximity, the vampire peering out at the back of a demon on guard duty.

Uh-huh! Not legit then.

He waited a minute before moving. In his way stood crates of food and clothing. He took a quick look at the bottles of water, chocolate bars and snack foods. They could be for human or non human he mused. He crept past the supplies and the passage curved then widened. Angel hugged the wall peering around the corner.

Stretched out before him was a large cavern filled with machinery. The extra lighting did nothing to illuminate, instead shadows were cast that deepened the gloom. Unleashing a spurt of vampiric speed Angel managed to cross behind some large equipment to the other side. Using the shadows he crept low, keeping eerily still when a demon walked by, then continued until a whimper too soft for human ears made him turn. There were two or three steps beneath a dark opening and he slipped quietly through. The smell of fear was nearly overpowering and he took a moment to clamp down on the rush that he was experiencing. It sickened him that he reacted to anguish and fear as he had when he was soulless. Another reminder that he was still a demon with a soul not a human with a demon inside. He wasn’t human and never would be again. He briefly closed his eyes in his own anguish at the memory of The Day That Wasn’t.

His footsteps were silent as he made his way to the first cell. His steps halted as he looked between the bars. The cage was clean, a mattress and blanket covered one end and a bucket sat in the corner. A paper cup and plate were by the door, its contents eaten. The being curled on the mattress was lightly covered in grey fur, obviously not human.

Angel glided to the next cell. The only difference was another demon of different origin that lay flat on its back, eyes staring at the ceiling. Angel passed by another cell, the lady scrambled towards him on clawed hands and feet. He backed away and continued until he found the source of the whimper. It was a human girl, not more than fifteen or sixteen. She was crying her cheeks smudged black with tear stained mascara. Her clothing suggested street kid but Angel couldn’t tell these days.

He crouched down. “Hey!” he whispered.

Startled her eyes flew open and she cringed further away and would have melted into the wall if she could.

“I’m here to help.” He looked back over his shoulder then back to the girl. Her big brown eyes were staring at him in fear.

“My name is Angel, what’s yours?”

The girl was trembling with fear and exhaustion and she had no reason to trust him.

There was no reply.

“How long have you been here?” He kept his voice soft hoping it would calm the girl and also it helped not to be heard by the guards. Wait. Where were the guards?

He couldn’t hang around to get caught. “I will get you out of here. I have to go now, but I will be back. I promise.”

As he stood to go he heard her whisper. “Angel?”

He lowered himself back down. “Yes?”

“Ka-Karena.” Fresh tears brimmed. “Last night. They grabbed me last night. Is it day now?”

Angel shook his head. “It’s evening.” He heard a noise outside. “I must go but I will be back. You’re a brave girl Karena. Hang on.”

He waited until she understood. “Okay,” she whispered. “Hurry please!”

Angel didn’t continue checking the other remaining cells. He needed to do something violent right about now as the plight of the girl and the other captives stirred in him a slow burning rage.

Wesley and Gunn entered the store that had a surprising ordinariness about it, until Gunn took a closer look at the live wriggly and disgustingly edible grubs in a small cabinet. Charles Gunn, attorney, demon fighter and ex-street kid decided that closer looks at anything else was not a good idea. Wesley noted the books and Gunn spied the weapons corner as they quietly made their way through the shop looking for their companions. No sign of Angel or Lorne though. Agitated whisperings led them behind a row of shelves and to three demons huddled over a larger meaner and unconscious demon.

“Graplar.”

Wesley’s hushed word sent the three into a spin and they backed away from the humans in fear.

“Well, it looks as if Angel’s been here.”

“Yes” agreed the Englishman. “Better than breadcrumbs really.” He was looking at the three employees who were watching them closely. He decided they looked harmless.

“Do you know where our friends went?” He tried to make his voice sound non-threatening.

A jabber of some demon language ensued and finally one reedy hairless male was nudged forward. He shuffled his feet and coughed nervously.

Gunn lowered his axe. “Look! We don’t want to mess with you guys; we just want to find our friends. As long as you don’t raise the alarm, we won’t hurt you.”

“The green one?” reedy male asked a little reassured.

“Yes the green one and his friend. Tall, dressed in black, vampire.”

“Didn’t see no vampire. Saw green friend go with Madam Constance.” He glanced back at his co-workers and they all nodded in agreement.

Wesley exchanged a look with Gunn. Angel did that. Somehow he could turn invisible and slip by, no one the wiser. He turned back to store keepers.

“Which way did they go?”

The hairless demon jerked his rather prehensile thumb over his shoulder. They looked down the aisle and all they saw was a wall at the far end.

“I know you’re afraid of your employer. Don’t be.” Wesley jerked his head in the direction of the wall. “Show us the door and you can go.” He waited for the demon to precede him.

Gunn followed saying, “I think you folks should be looking for new employment elsewhere. Don’t come back.” He hoped that they took his advice and left this place behind them. He didn’t know what was the deal here but by the trail Angel seemed to be leaving, it wouldn’t be of the good.

The lean demon depressed the hidden switch and ran back towards his co-workers who were heading off towards the side door.

Gunn yelled after him. “Oh, you better use the front door!”

Angel angled his head at the cells’ threshold to investigate the movement he had heard. He saw, and then smelled the familiar scent of his two human friends. Someone was bleeding. They were moving behind the steam pipes and were coming his way when he spied another shadow following them. Quickly and silently he melted into his own shadow and went to meet this new threat.

The horned beast was light on his feet for such a large creature, Wesley and Gunn were unaware that they were being stalked. A slight draft of air and then a thud alerted them to the danger and they swung around to defend their position to find a smiling Angel and his bloodied sword and a headless demon at his feet.

“Hi guys,” he whispered, too gleefully for Wesley’s liking. Wesley just nodded but Charles Gunn whispered back, “Uh thanks” unaware of Wesley’s concern.

Gunn peered around Angel. “Where’s the green guy?”

Angel ignored the question with another one. “Who got hit?”

Gunn held his swollen and inflamed arm up. “Old spine face stabbed me with one of those quill things. Hurts like a bitch.”

“Will you be all right?” Angel took a close look at the wound stilling his breath as he did so. Being inches away from fresh human blood was tempting the demon within. He was always hungry. He backed up quickly as he lingered a mite too long startling his human friend.

Perhaps Gunn recognised the hunger in his face because he put his arm down and tried to cover the wound with the tattered sleeve.

“I’m good.” He hefted his axe to prove it.

Wesley watched the exchange closely but kept his silence.

Angel moved around the decapitated corpse and began leading the way back to the small prison he had discovered.

“Lorne’s with Constance, somewhere ahead of us.” Keeping a wary watch for more guards he stopped before the dark opening.

“There’s demons and people imprisoned here,” he indicated with a wave of his pale hand.

“People?” Wesley started forward to see for himself when the vampire’s hand halted his advance.

“We have to leave them for now.” Angel moved away.

Gunn shrugged his shoulders to loosen the tightness there. “He’s right. If we let them out now, we could be discovered. We can come back for them.” He flexed the fingers around his axe trying to relieve the ache from his wounded arm.

Wesley sighed and turned to follow Angel. “I know,” he admitted to Gunn. “They may get in the way and end up as casualties. Doesn’t mean to say I have to like it.”

“Hey, no one likes it. Just the way it has to be.” Gunn stayed close to Wesley as they tracked the vampire ahead of them. Who as they watched, disappeared?

“The Hell?” Charles Gunn muttered as they quickly ran over to where Angel had been moments ago. Wesley stared at Gunn and then both men stared at the empty space that had been Angel.

“Where did he go Wesley?” Gunn whispered as they both turned about to survey the immediate area in case the vampire had moved with his inhuman speed to another part of the cavern.

Wesley startled suddenly barely suppressing the womanish cry that tried to escape his lips as a pale hand caught hold of his shoulder.

Gunn whirled about axe ready as Wesley was hauled around. Wesley thought he recognised the hand that emerged from the end of the black sleeve that ended in thin air.

“Angel?” he gasped.

The hand released him to beckon them in before vanishing.

Gunn looked at Wesley and cocked a brow. “Portal?” He hated portals.

Wesley shook his head as he tentatively stretched his arm out and his hand disappeared in the very spot Angel had vanished.

“Magic. Glamour or a distortion spell. Let’s find out shall we?”

“After you man.” After all he had seen in the last few years, magic still unnerved the Los Angeles born Charles Gunn.

He set his shoulders and gingerly followed the now invisible Englishman. He blinked and stood for a moment until he was pulled sideways into Angel’s space. He blinked again and Wesley was there, Angel all ready stepping away his sword now in his hand.

Gunn looked about and saw several demons facing away from them. He looked behind and all he could see was a wall. How did Angel? The thought must have been evident on his face cause Wesley leaned in and mouthed, “vampire” then he too moved after Angel. Gunn gathered his thoughts and crept behind Wesley.

Angel had sensed that the cavern was even larger than it had looked and the fact that guards seemed to come from nowhere had led him to believe there was another room entrance somewhere. His acute hearing and sense of smell had led him to the glamour and the hidden grotto. The demon servants, guards, whatever, formed a semicircle before a stone dais. Runes were engraved on the cement floor circling the dais atop which sat a large stone throne.

Angel could smell old blood and the stains on the floor and dais told him that there was the source. The sconces along the walls burned with tallow candles. Angel preferred beeswax it had a cleaner smell. Tallow reminded him of abattoirs and death and bloodthirsty times. A splash of colour caught his eye and when he moved his head a little, he found Lorne, where on earth did he find a drink? And Constance. With Wesley and Gunn flattened along the wall beside him, he listened to the only two voices to be heard.

“So what you’re saying pussycat, and I cannot believe what you’re saying; is that you can provide my heart’s desire. Or anyone’s heart desire.” Lorne took another sip of his drink.

“For a price.” Constance agreed and lit the cigarette that she held in a fine manicured hand.

“Of course. The price.” Lorne scanned his surroundings and continued. “Something tells me it’s not cheap.” His red eyes turned back to the amazing green of his host’s.

“For you?” She lifted an eyebrow. “I suppose so. But a price has to be paid.” She gestured at the dais. “Everyone pays. You pay me and I pay-” she didn’t need to finish her sentence Lorne understood.

And so did Angel, Wesley and Charles Gunn.

“Would you like to see?” Constance gave the Pylean an amazing smile that hid the evil lurking within.

Lorne was in a quandary. He wished that Angel were here. He knew the big guy was lurking about somewhere and he needed his advice. Did he wish to let this chain of events run or did they nip it in the bud now before some BIG EVIL was summoned from who knew where? Lorne stalled by sipping his drink, however three robed figures appeared and began to chant forgoing Lorne’s answer. Oh-oh!

“What’s going on? What’s happening?”

“Come now Lorne.” Constance gently tugged at the green demon and pulled him closer to the dais. She took a drag on her cigarette before flicking it away in the gloom. “Let’s get a closer look.”

Lorne reluctantly took a couple of steps and as soon as his feet hit the runes on the floor a knife flashed and a searing pain across his knuckles caused him to drop the glass he was holding.

“Yeow! What was that?” he stared horrified at the blood dripping onto the floor and glittering shards of glass before gripping his wounded hand with the other.

The knife in her hand dripping with the Pylean’s blood, Constance answered, “You did want a closer look.”

The chanting rose in volume and Angel decided that now was a good time to act. He darted forward and swung his favourite sword, slicing through the nearest demon neck. The head fell with the body but the vampire was already slashing at the next victim. He heard Wesley and Gunn join the fight behind him though he was busy fending off the attack of two large demons. He felt the sting of a sword thrust across his ribs and the slash of claws shredding his coat and shirt. Now he was mad, his favourite black and they had to go and ruin it. He ducked and swayed back ignoring the pain. He had had worse. His sword bit and he followed through with a fist and a back kick. The demon howled when the sword sliced through muscle and his companion stumbled back from the vampire’s blows. Angel wasted no time with niceties and stabbed the demon in the chest before yanking the sword out and using the other demon as a stepladder somersaulted up and over towards the dais. He landed like a large cat, feet first twisting his neck to see Wesley and Gunn were holding their own then he snapped his head back to focus on Lorne and Constance.

“Hey big guy! Am I glad to see you.” Lorne said carefully with Constance’s knife at his throat his blood still dripped onto the floor. The robed figures continued to chant and Angel felt the shiver that accompanied a magical disturbance run up his spine and into his skull. He spun as he felt the rush of an attack at his back and the sword arced with the spin and sliced into the ribs and heart of his opponent. Blood spurted although the vampire continued his turn; he heard the creature land heavily behind him.

“Too late!” the redhead hissed.

Angel saw recognition dawn in the woman’s eyes as he took a step closer.

“You!” her green eyes flashed and the knife she was holding drew blood.

“Angel!” Lorne gasped trying not to flinch.

Keeping an ear on the fight behind him and calculating that both Wesley and Gunn had the last demon cornered, Angel focused his gaze on Constance.

“So! Angel.” She wet her lips. “You haven’t changed a bit. Or have you? Angel! I never knew your name although I have thought about you over the years.”

Angel paced a step sideways towards the spell casters and they hurriedly turned and ran. He stepped back his sword hanging loosely, ready in a pale fist.

“They have served their purpose.” She squinted at him. “Cat got your tongue? That hasn’t changed.”

The vampire felt a pressure building as did the Ssnalek and she shifted her body and Lorne’s until she faced the throne. Angel took a step back but managed to hide the fact that his was now closer to Constance and her hostage than before.

Gunn arrived panting with Wesley at his heels. Both had demon gore speckling their clothing but were none the worse for wear. However both had seconded weapons from their fallen foes.

“What’s happening?” He took in the hostage situation and the fact that Angel was watching both and the throne on the dais.

“It’s a summoning.” Wesley recognised the runes and the blood spatter all over them.

“Summoning what?” Gunn wanted to know.

“We are just about to find out and it won’t be good.” Wesley raised his crossbow in the direction of the throne.

Gunn walked away from Wesley and paced over to the right of the dais, the three forming a semi circle of their own. The wall behind the dais stood guarding its back, flames flickered softly as the lamps caught a faint breeze.

Angel felt the change and knew that in a moment whatever spawn of hell had been called would be arriving in all its’ glory. Constance never saw the fist that connected with her temple as the vampire moved with all his preternatural speed and stealth to attack. He snatched the knife from her hand as she fell and pulled Lorne away out of reach.

“W-w-what?” Lorne cried out as he stumbled into Angel’s arms and then just as quickly he was steadied and the vampire was gone. The Pylean looked down at the redhead, saw she was out and over to his boss who was distracted by watching the empty throne.

“Thank the Powers Angel cakes.” Two human faces turned towards him. “And you two amigos. I thought you would never get here.” Noting the weapons held in readiness he added, “So do you need a hand?” Lorne tugged out a handkerchief from his breast pocket to wrap around his bleeding knuckles. He wiped at his neck first relieved to find little blood. The wound must only be a scratch.

“It would be a help Lorne.” Wesley commented before turning to face what was coming.

“Yeah! An extra hand all be it green would come in handy,” Gunn stopped realising he had just made a joke. “Handy- get it?” he smiled.

“Colour me tickled.” Lorne patted his suit. “Hey guys! I’ve got nothing. They frisked me and let me say-” his last few words were cut off as Angel threw him the knife that had just recently been at his throat.

“Thanks.” Suddenly the knife didn’t look that big and threatening. In fact he thought it was rather puny and not a great asset so he ran to the pile of dead demons and grabbed a club.

He ran back as the air shivered again and suddenly the throne was no longer empty.

The large imposing figure blinked red eyes at them then smiled. The fangs in its mouth gleamed large and sharp. The demon was a dull blue colour. Lorne looked at his own hand then back to the demon.

“Hey!” he called then wished he hadn’t. The head turned his way.

“Sorry-your-whatever. Don’t mind me.” He giggled nervously and wished he were anywhere else but here.

Angel stared at the blue demon. Except for its colour, fangs and red eyes and size, it was humanoid. The long black plaited head turned his way and its large fingers drummed against the throne’s armrests. The eyes stared at him, unblinking.

“Earc.” Angel’s soft voice commanded all of their attention. The vampire’s three companions were surprised that Angel recognised the demon but were even more surprised when the demon returned the favour.

“Angelus.” The words were smooth and very human like.

Gunn was taken aback. He tended to ignore the darker side of Angel’s past, something he never thought would happen. In the early years it was all he could think about and had trouble moving past it, preventing any sort of friendship with the ‘man’. Now it was in his face in the form of a Hell demon calling the vampire Angelus. He and Angelus had all ready met and Gunn was in no hurry to renew that acquaintance.

The watcher within Wesley was very curious and wanted to chronicle this entire confrontation. Angel was centuries old, an introspective being, there were so many facets of his un-life the vampire kept close to his heart. For all the files they had on the vampire in the vaults of Wolfram and Hart, those were only second hand or third hand accounts. He steadied the crossbow and listened intently to the two demons.

Lorne was quietly wishing a large drink in his hand, a bubble bath and the television switched to his favourite soap. He eyed the Hell demon and Angel chatting and his second wish was for Angel to just up and kill the thing already.

The vampire placed one foot carefully forward. “Moving up I see.”

The huge shoulders shrugged. “What can I say?”

Angel straightened and lowered his sword. He strolled nonchalantly forward. “Missed me?”

“How did you manage it Angelus? Someone on the outside?” Earc leaned forward looking down on the vampire.

“You may say that.” Angel wasn’t sure that the Powers That Be had been responsible for his release from Hell but it was one likely conclusion.

One large hand lifted and gestured at the others. “Yours?”

“Mine” Angel agreed. His friends remained quiet for once.

The head indicated the mess behind him. “Those too?”

“Yeah. What can I say? They pissed me off.” Angel lifted his right foot and placed it on the only step of the dais.

Earc frowned at Angelus’ daring but he let it pass.

“So!” The vampire smiled his cruel half smile. “You hand out favours for sacrifices.”

Now Earc grinned a jagged smile. “You could call it that. They ask for long life, power, strength, wealth, charisma,” he chuckled, “You wouldn’t believe the things they want.”

“But they don’t always get what they want do they?”

“Oh they do. It just doesn’t last forever and there’s always a catch.”

“Very clever” Angel agreed. He allowed his face to change. His fangs gleamed in the candlelight. “In return you get the blood of the innocent, something of which you cannot get in Hell.”

“As you know, the innocent are so tasty.”

Angel knew that for a fact and guilt and shame ran through him. He pushed it down to brood about later and countered.

“Innocent blood, and yet the blood of a demon will do it for you too.”

Earc rose to his full height and he was an imposing figure. His body was muscular and strong, if not for the blue of the skin, a human muscle man would have been proud.

“I know. Not quite the same but if the blood is innocent or of the good, it matters not if it is demon.”

The wide shoulders flexed and Earc stretched. Angel backed away, fangs still protruding, eyes gold falling briefly on the runes beneath his feet. He turned his head to catch Wesley’s eye and then dragged his gaze to the floor and back. The Englishman gave an imperceptible twitch of his eyebrow to communicate that he understood.

“So the die is cast, can I get what I wish for?”

The demon looked down on the vampire. “Is this what you’re here for? You invade this ceremony to take what’s not yours?”

“Why not? Never stopped me before.” Angel turned about quickly, arms akimbo, sword at arm’s length, smiling through his fangs at his companions in arms.

A large blue foot descended and hit the floor. The other followed as Earc stood eyeing up the small group of people and non-people. He raised his head and took a long hard sniff.

“This one.” He indicated Lorne. “Why is it not terrified like the others?” His puzzled look swung back to the vampire.

“Terrified here,” Lorne insisted.

“But not bound. Mmmn. I’m thinking something is not quite right.” Earc was full of his power and was so used to being the one that instilled fear that it never occurred to him that there were beings in the human world that were able to stand up to him.

“So. How does this work?” Angel was slowly working his way off the runes on the floor and Wesley and Gunn were inching that way as well.

“Can you dispel magic at will or does it take a sacrifice?”

Lorne noticing the small progress his friends were making stepped slowly back leaving the woman behind.

“Unfortunately I am bound to this sphere of influence. Constance’s clients usually stand before me. I don’t harm them as long as I get my meal.”

“So it’s a one way thing.” Wesley spoke for the first time drawing the demon’s attention.

The eyes narrowed. “You allow your humans to speak?”

“Yeah. This one never knows when to shut up.” Angel stepped off the glyphs on the floor and all four of Team Angel was safe, for the moment.

One pair of feral eyes stared into the other. “What do you wish?”

“Quite a lot really.” The vampire tsked through his fangs adopting a thoughtful pose. “Not gonna happen. Although I would settle for you dead or gone-WESLEY!”

The bolt flew from Wesley’s crossbow the minute Angel called his name. The startled demon bellowed as the bolt embedded itself in his shoulder as he tried to turn away from the missile. He just had time to straighten his arm at the vampire that literally flew at him sword aiming for flesh. Angel connected with Earc’s large hand and flew backwards with the force of the blow.

“GUNN!” he cried and Charles hurled his axe inwards. For such a large body the demon was fast. He grabbed the axe and sent it hurling back missing Wolfram and Hart’s newest lawyer as he was already rolling away. As Gunn righted and went to retrieve his weapon Angel attacked again with his sword. A large fist crunched into his stomach and Angel nearly lost his weapon. He fell back to recover and delivered a solid back kick. Fists flew, blood spurted, and growls and grunts filled the air as the two demons punished each other. An opening and the vampire’s sword found a soft spot and sliced deep. The vampire was sent flying in retaliation and he landed outside the marked area. Wesley took another shot and Gunn sliced at a leg that came close.

“Keep it busy!” Wesley yelled.

“Doing the best I can, and how come it’s always me that has to keep the demons busy?” puffed Gunn as he dodged out of the way and weaved back throwing the axe again. The creature managed to dodge and Gunn swung the borrowed sword into his right hand.

Angel came upright with two throwing stars in his hands and he threw these with all his vampire speed and strength. Earc’s growl of pain was music to his ears as a star lodged deep in his enemy’s throat and the other in his chest. Angel bent to pick up his sword as Gunn’s spear flew inwards matching the bolt from Wesley’s crossbow. These were both swatted aside in fury and pain.

Lorne stood ready with his knife knowing he was incapable of throwing the thing with any accuracy but willing to slice and dice if demon limbs came within reach. The club would make a satisfying crunch on bones too he thought as he flinched at the beating Angel was taking. A weak groan caught his attention and he looked down to see Constance stirring awake.

Earc heard it too and growled from a ruined throat. “You!”

He stomped over to his summoner and lifted a foot to crush her when a cold body crashed into his sending them both tumbling.

Constance scrambled away on all fours. “You fool!” she hissed. “Use your magic!”

That was the one thing Angel didn’t want. He and his crew had been keeping the Hell beast fighting in order to defeat it without it being able to deploy that particular defence. Time to end this; now! He roared as he leaped to his feet, swung gracefully in a full three sixty -degree circle and brought his sword down hard through the blue neck, severing the head from the rest of the body. The body and head fell to the floor with a thud, the demon hunters caught their breath as they watched the demon fade away.

“Where did it go?” Lorne asked. “Yay team” he added, as he looked his colleagues. Angel was the most mussed. His face and body bloody and bruised, his fine black clothing shredded and torn.

“What do you say English? Time to round up some demon mojo guys. Angel had all the fun, let’s have some of our own.” Gunn walked around the dais gracing the vampire with a huge grin as he did so.

“Are you all right?” Wesley said with concern. Angel was a mess. It was a wonder that he was still standing. He reached out a hand only to pull it back with Angel’s reply.

“Fine.”

“You’ve ruined everything! Again!” Constance was on her feet now, swaying a little.

Angel looked at her then at the concern in Wesley’s eyes. “Go, help Gunn. I’m fine,” he repeated. He didn’t want the pain to show through and he gritted his human teeth in what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He didn’t know how grotesque that looked with the blood dripping down his left temple and down his cheek.

“I’ll look after him,” Lorne piped up sidling up to Constance ready to menace the bitch if she so much as made a wrong move.

Wesley nodded and went to find Gunn. The Ssnalek demon hissed in fury. Everything was in ruin. Again. At the hands of the same vampire no less. She lunged towards him ready to tear him to shreds when a green hand wielding a large club stopped her in her tracks.

“I don’t think so acid drop!”

Angel lurched forward to stare into her furious eyes. She wasn’t so attractive now in her rage.

“You were stealing people and demons off the streets and feeding them to Earc.” His fingers twitched around his sword.

“Why do you care?” She spat. “You’re a vampire! You eat people! And it looks as if you’re no saint if you’ve been to Hell. Fine company you keep.” She glared at Lorne.

“You had your chance fifty years ago. You should have taken it.”

At that moment the robed demons captured by Wesley and Gunn were herded before them. They hadn’t gone far.

“Angel. I think we should take these” Wesley indicated the prisoners “back to Wolfram and Hart.”

“We need a retrieval team down here.” Gunn added.

“Okay. Lorne go up top and call the firm-” Angel was interrupted by Constance.

“Wolfram and Hart? You work for Wolfram and Hart?” Her red hair bounced as she looked from one to another.

“My best clients come from Wolfram and Hart.” Hope began to surface along with the puzzlement she was feeling.

“Who?” Angel’s voice was low and dangerous.

“Linwood wanted power, I understand he was a bit of a coward,” she didn’t notice the looks that Team Angel gave each other, “and Holland Manners wanted a long life. Watson Taylor wanted charisma-” This time Angel cut her off.

“Enough! Lorne, get upstairs and call- oh- and get a medical team down here.”

“Okay Boss. Happy to oblige.” Lorne dropped the club but kept the knife and disappeared back through the not so solid wall.

Ignoring Constance Angel turned to his friends. “We need to free the prisoners now.”

That was the last straw for a beauty such as Constance. Her life was in ruins and now she had been insulted by being ignored. She lunged at Angel and her sharp nails raked over his already battered face. He growled and shoved her back and in a move that was so fast that his friends had no time to register, his sword blurred towards her neck and she died, as had her demon from Hell.

Gunn and Wesley blinked. They gaped at their boss.

“Zero tolerance. I should have killed her a long time ago.” He dropped his sword and stepped over to the demons and his fists made a gratifying crunch as he knocked them all to oblivion one by one.

“That’ll hold them for awhile.” He turned picked up his sword leaving his men staring after him as he limped away.

Wesley looked at Gunn. “Right then.”

Gunn stared back. “Works for me.”

They followed to find Angel inside the prison kicking at the bars of a cell. It was if the vampire hadn’t been in a fierce battle and still had plenty of fight left in him.

“Perhaps a key?” Gunn started but the growl he received made him swallow the rest of his sentence. He straightened his arm and handed his axe to the impatient vampire who dropped his own sword and began to hack away at the lock with the axe.

“Let’s find the keys, shall we? Mayhap one of the guards?” Wesley suggested. Gunn nodded and carefully searched the way out as he left with Wes.

The door finally gave it up to the furious strength of the vampire and swung wide. The dark haired girl was huddled in the corner, her eyes peering above her knees to watch her rescuer.

Angel stepped slowly forward and squatted down ignoring the bite of his wounds. He held his hand out to calm her.

“Remember me?” He asked softly.

“You came back,” she whispered as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

“I came back.” He looked back towards the door. Gunn was standing outside the cell trying to look non- threatening. He watched the vampire soothe the girl and win her trust and was once again reminded of all the reasons he hooked up with the guy.

Angel looked back to the girl. “Karena. This is my friend Charles Gunn. He’s here to help. Shall we go now?”

Karena felt the tension lessen in her limbs. She had been terrified for hours and she didn’t know if her legs could carry her. Carefully she rolled forward and started to crawl over to –

“You’re bleeding,” she whispered.

“Yeah.”

“Does it hurt?” Karena had stopped just inches away from Angel.

“Yeah.”

“Sorry” and she reached out a small hand.

“Don’t be.” He swept her up in his arms and straightened to his full height as if she weighed nothing at all. She gasped in surprise and fear then relaxed with his “sorry.”

“Hey,” Gunn greeted the girl as he made room for Angel to pass. She smiled weakly at him as they swept by.

He followed. “We found the keys. Thought we would wait for the others to arrive before releasing them. Most of the victims are terrified and some may need medical assistance. Didn’t want to see them running about getting hurt.”

Angel just grunted in reply. Wesley joined them as they exited into the greater area and Angel heard the lift coming down. He guessed it was Lorne.

“Karena, this is Wesley. He’s a friend.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Wesley smiled down at her.

Karena surprised herself when she giggled.

“You talk funny,” she whispered.

Wesley pretended to look insulted. “I’ll have you know that it’s you who have the accent young lady.”

“I’m with you girl,” Gunn joined in. “The guy’s been bugging me for years. Still finding it hard to translate.”

Angel’s dark eyes found hers. “Do you want me to set you down?”

She clutched at the remains of his coat. “No please?”

Another voice joined the conversation and she squeaked when she caught a glimpse of the speaker. He was green, and he had horns and red eyes.

“Well who do we have here cupcake? A girl? A damsel in distress? Hi, I’m Lorne.” Green fingers waggled at her.

“Uh. Hi?”

“Angelkins. Help is on the way, five minutes tops. The staff has all scarpered except for the dead and unconscious.” Lorne looked about. “Where’s the snake in the grass Constance? She locked up somewhere?” He looked back at Angel who ignored him and then to Wesley who shook his head.

Gunn grabbed Lorne’s arm and pulled him away. “Come on, we’ve got guard duty.”

“Oh, are we guarding the viper cause let me tell you, sugar, that I am pleased to do.”

“Her demon friends- you’ll see.” Gunn disappeared with Lorne in tow still asking questions.

“Angel. Are you all right?” Wesley saw the vampire sway just a little. “Perhaps you should take the girl upstairs. I’ll wait down here and try and communicate with some of the victims.” Wesley knew Angel could be so stubborn at times. He refused to acknowledge that he needed rest or that he was in pain. To his relief the vampire agreed.

With Angel and the girl on their way up in the elevator the Englishman returned to the confinement area. He hoped that someone spoke English or at least a language he understood. He was also looking forward to a chat with the summoning demons.

The girl was practically out to it in the time it took for Angel to get to the end of the elevator ride. He carefully stepped out and into the interior of The New Man blinking under the harsh fluorescent light. The Graplar was still out on the floor and he stepped over the demon into the deserted interior of the shop. The inner door slammed open and several black clad well-armed men entered. Angel instinctively turned to the side presenting a smaller target sheltering the girl in his arms. Her eyes bleary and sleep filled blinked up at him in alarm.

“It’s okay Karena. Help is here.” He looked up at the men as they invaded the store acknowledging the one that had approached.

“Mr Angel.”

The vampire nodded. The leader of the special ops team, Angel didn’t know his name he had killed the last one, lifted his arm to indicate the girl.

“She in need if medical care?”

“I think so. There are no apparent injuries but I need her to be looked after. The same for all the others.”

Angel stood with his charge as the medical team entered with a stretcher. He carefully lay her down. He accepted the blanket the medic offered and covered Karena with it.

“Easy,” he soothed. “These people will look after you I promise.”

Karena nodded and as the trolley began to roll she called, “Angel?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” She smiled a weak smile and watched as he returned a brighter one. He really was one handsome man she thought as she was wheeled away.

Angel’s smile was gone just as quickly as he directed the men below, showing them the entrance to the underground. He stood with his men as the elevator descended, his thoughts spiralling down to the past. He automatically exited as the doors opened but stopped in the shadows as he was caught by the memories.

Then.

He had found Gregori’s in the location Constance had given. Wasting no time with the attendant at the desk, the back fisted blow rendered the man unconscious before he opened his mouth. Angel barged his way through the establishment, kicking down doors, beating any who stood in his way to a bloody pulp. Some one fired several shots and he was hit in the chest but in his rage the vampire snapped his neck, only realising a moment later it had been a demon he had killed. By the look of his suit he hoped it was the boss man himself. He continued in his quest to find the young demon lad and finally came upon a locked door. Several young boys and demons hung back watching as the vampire kicked at the door until it splintered and gave. The whole door flew inwards crashing down with a resounding thud. Angel stepped on it and over calling out Danny’s name.

What he saw inside sickened him. There were several cots about the room of which four were occupied. Quickly he ran to the first to discover the lad was unconscious. He tapped the boy’s face, no response. It was the same as all the others. The fourth boy was Danny and he too was out. The youths, demon and human were being starved, the vampire could tell as he checked their muscle tone. He glanced back at the heads that were peeking through the shattered doorway.

“Drugged?” he asked.

There were several nods.

“Was that Gregori that I killed out there?”

More nods.

“Do any of you want to get out of here? Cause now’s the time. Just help me carry these lads to safety.” Angel lifted Danny into his arms and stood waiting.

A tall dark haired boy in tight jeans came forward. “I just want to go home.” His dark eyes were filled with hope and despair. What he must have endured in this place was something Angel didn’t want to contemplate. The scars on the boy’s soul would be permanent.

Several lads came into the room, some wearing makeup that was at odds to their demon markings and bizarre clothing.

One short pretty demon, fur gleaming with glitter spoke up. “I don’t. My family sold me. I just want to be free.” The others murmured their agreement.

“Good. Help these boys and follow me.” Angel watched as the three drugged would be slaves were hoisted up before he turned and preceded them down the hall.

He called out to small crowd milling around doorways. “Anyone wants to leave, do it now.” There was an excited babble of words and the ex slaves darted off to collect whatever small affects they had, many had nothing and prepared to leave. Gregori customers emerged somewhat confused from various rooms demanding restitution and service. Angel went game faced and growled menacingly and suddenly the clients disappeared pulling on clothing and shoes as they ran.

When Angel got to the front desk he easily hefted Danny across his shoulder. Arm free he went behind the desk and rifled the drawers. The second one down contained a small strongbox; the key was next to it in the drawer. He lifted it to the counter and opened it. Inside was a lot of cash and he grabbed a small amount. He left it open and told the boys to help themselves. As he left the building he heard someone kick the unconscious attendant as they helped themselves to some of the money.

“What now?” the tall lad behind Angel asked as they stood on the sidewalk.

Angel was silent. “Here,” he said at last. “Stay out of sight.” He lowered Danny gently to the steps and walked out to the curb. He glanced up and down the street and chose a nearby automobile. He loved today’s cars; they had plenty of room inside and lots of shining chrome. It was no trouble at all for him to force the door now all he had to do was get it started. He hurried back to the steps and picked Danny up once more.

“Bring the others and put them in the car. I will take them to somewhere safe.” He turned and walked back to the car. The others followed with their burdens and lay them gentle on the padded leather seats.

Angel propped Danny up on the front seat before asking, “Anyone know how to hotwire a car?”

Three hands went up.

“Okay then.” Angel indicated the driver’s seat and one of the boys climbed in to do the deed.

The vampire included all three of the lads in his next sentence. “I’m taking Danny home to his mother. You are all welcome to join him I’m sure, if only until you find your way.”

The clatter of feet on pavement drew his gaze and he watched, as there was a mass exodus from Gregori’s. He looked back as the car rumbled into life and his audience.

One of the boys slid into the vehicle carefully sitting between the unconscious boys. The other two exchanged looks and the would be car thief slid across the front seat to sit next to Danny.

“What’s your name?” Angel asked the tall boy as he stood beside the car.

“Mathew.”

“Need a lift Mathew?”

“Nah. I’m good. I’ll catch a Greyhound outta here.” Mathew shifted a little anxious to get gone.

Angel put his hand in his pocket and pulled out some cash.

“Thanks but I got my own.” Mathew smiled his first real smile in a long time and boobed his head until he was eye level with the car windows.

“Take care,” he said to his compatriots and giving a last wave he turned and ran off.

Angel drove across town to his apartment building and Danny’s. On parking he bundled up Danny and after asking the boys to stay with the drugged lads climbed the stairs to Mrs Yano’s home.

The woman was in a mess when she answered the door but her grief turned to joy when she caught sight of her son in Angel’s arms. She led him inside and started to fuss after her boy as Angel explained the situation. She was happy to help and appalled to find out the sort of abuse these young people had suffered, her own son one of them. Downstairs he helped bring the boys up carrying two of the victims without any effort at all. Angel told the battered mother that his room was free and that any of the lads were welcome to it. Danny was to have his books as Angel was leaving tonight.

Mrs Yano asked him why now after all he had done. “It’s because of what I have to do,” he answered simply.

Making sure the drugged boys were safely ensconced in blankets on the couples’ large bed, he left quietly, leaving a wad of money on the hall side table. Downstairs in his small lair he silently packed his clothes and a couple of favourite books. He stood for a moment to survey the room and all he was leaving. What mattered most to him lay sleeping upstairs, in the form of a friend. He put the door key on the shabby table and pulled the door closed after him.

The stolen automobile took the vampire to a low dive of a gambling club, frequented by low life and demons alike. He parked it on the dingy street, the shine of the car incongruous to its new surroundings. He entered the club, grateful for the non -breathing thing he had going, as the air wwas blue with cigarette smoke. In the haze he cruised the bar and not finding his prey entered the back room the beaded curtain clattering as he passed.

Inside, the smell of stale bodies, smoke and alcohol attacked his sensitive nose. He ignored it, as he had smelt worse than such as these since the return of his soul. Predator eyes raked the tables searching for his victim. Cards fell, chips rattled and bets were laid. Wait! Were those kittens on that table? He looked with surprise at the demons that played that table. Focus fool. Angel drew his gaze away. That wasn’t what he was here for. He found his quarry at the far corner, all liquored up and losing badly.

He brushed away the bouncer that came to demand he play or stay away by breaking his arm. The patrons were too zoned to notice the guy writhing on the floor. Rory Yano felt cold hands close on his arms like bands of steel and haul him to his feet.

“What?” he yelled as his arm was jacked up painfully and he was vamp handled out of the room and bar and into the dark street.

Angel dragged the demon to the nearest dark alley and threw him face first into the wall. Rory spat broken teeth through bloody lips as he was turned and tossed like a rag doll. He hit the concrete hard but having been in a few bar- fights himself he rolled and climbed quickly to his feet. He got his first glimpse of his attacker it was a vamp.

He glared into yellow eyes and wiped his bloody mouth. “I thought vamps didn’t eat demons. What’s your beef? Do I know you?”

Angel growled menacingly. He was letting his demon out and he was pissed.

Yano flexed his large hands and curled them into fists. Years of butchering had given him powerful arms and thick shoulders. He swung a hook at the vampire but Angel was ready for him. He dodged aside and jabbed hitting the demon in the ribs. Yano staggered back then charged.

Again the vampire sidestepped and back kicked the demon as he sailed past. Yano stumbled but stuck a leg out and connected with the vampire’s leg and they both stumbled. Angel tried to keep a reasonable check on his temper but it was difficult. His fist hit Yano and he was hit in return. The demon was strong but Angel was stronger and faster. He took a couple of hits to get close but the demon surprised him by suddenly dipping his body and he was thrown over his shoulder. Angel hit the same brick wall that he had thrown Yano against and blood trickled from a cut in his scalp.

“Who-who are you? Come on man? I haven’t done anything to you, there’s been a mistake!” The demon stood panting hoping to stay alive; he knew the vampire would kill him.

“I’m a friend of Danny’s,” Angel growled as he executed a kip and attacked.

Danny’s father staggered back with the front kick that caught him in the chest.

“Danny?” Something flitted across the demon’s face and he snarled. “Lazy good for nothing! He fetched a good price, how’s that for nothing?”

Those words sealed Yano’s fate and Angel charged and beat him to his knees. Angel grabbed his neck in a lock and snarled into frightened eyes, ignoring the hands that batted at his.

“He’s good for something. Better than you. You’ll be pleased to know that he is home, safe, with his mother.” As the eyes widened, Angel twisted the neck and snap he was dead. He let the body fall to the ground and as he turned to leave, spoke once more.

“At least they won’t be bothered by the likes of you. They are safe.”

Angel walked back to car, collected his kit and strode away in another direction, to look for a new start. He couldn’t go back to what he had. He couldn’t look Danny in the eyes knowing he had killed the boy’s father, no matter how much he had deserved it.

Wolfram and Hart’s clean up team began to scurry past the vampire, most were unaware he was there, so still against the shadowed wall was he. Angel watched as the rescued demons were helped to the elevator, some walking others, were carried, many were confused and afraid. The area cleared after awhile but the CEO of Evil incorporated stayed where he was. That was the title he gave to himself now. The firm was evil, the clients were evil and good versus evil was becoming blurred.

Tonight he had achieved something that he should have taken care of a long time ago. How many lives had been lost to satisfy the urges and greed of evil beings, and he included humans in that? It seemed to Angel that whatever he did came back to haunt. And unfinished business always came to bite him in the ass. He lost friends and family with alarming regularity. It hurt to think of Connor, how he was taken, and the angry young man that came back with vengeance on his mind. Cordelia was all but lost to him, never to emerge from her coma. Doyle had not been the first. That honour went to Buffy. Oh yeah! She was alive but still lost to him, suffered for him and by him. Who was the next in line to fall? It was only a matter of time.

Wesley, Gunn and Lorne followed the dazed robed demons towards the elevator. The guards hustled them along non too gently and one tripped on his robe.

“I think a bit more care is in order.”

Both men nodded nervously and a hand went out to steady the demon. The doors closed on the five leaving Lorne, Gunn and Wesley waiting for the return of the empty lift. Gunn had Angel’s sword in one hand Wesley had acquired a set of ancient texts and was juggling the lot with both arms leaving Lorne to carry the precious crossbow.

“Hard to get used to that,” Gunn commented to Wesley watching the ex watcher struggle with his balancing act.

“What, the giving of orders to the men and women of Wolfram and Hart? Or the fact that the evil minions are afraid of us?” Wesley lifted his eye from the books to look at his colleague. “I agree. Although somehow I think its Angel that they’re more frightened of.”

“Well, the ‘man’ has killed off a few employees along with not so few clients.” Gunn decided not to offer assistance to his English friend as his arm was killing him.

“Come on buttercups! What’s not to love? Lackeys running around doing our bidding, not to mention every star that I’ve wanted to meet? It’s fantastic.” Then a new thought crossed his mind. “Of course being demon bait isn’t that great.” Lorne loved his new position at Wolfram and Hart even though at first he had had his reservations. He caught the solemn look that Wesley threw his way.

“Angel doesn’t seem to think so.” Wesley said softly. There was a brief silence as they all considered how out of sorts their friend had been lately.

“Talking of our beloved vamp, where is he?” Ever the optimist, Lorne tried always to see the bright side and he was genuinely fond of Angel.

“He went upstairs with the girl.” Gunn answered and hastily stopped the lazy swing of his axe as Lorne stepped closer. Damn his arm was starting to balloon and stiffen up and keeping it moving seemed less painful.

“Yeah. What about the girl? What is her story?” Lorne inquired.

“There were some holding cells back there. She was one of the prisoners.” Wesley’s arms were getting a tad tired and where was that damned lift?

“You mean one of the sacrifices.” Charles corrected him.

“Like I was. That snake in the grass was going to turn me into demon chow- no pun intended boys. I wonder what she was asking for?” Although Lorne did chuckle a little at his own wit, then he sobered.

“At least she lost her head and I kept mine, thanks to you and his royal badness. And talking of; hey Boss!” he cried as Angel stepped out of the dark before them.

Gunn shifted his eyes at Angel and back to the gloom beyond. Had he been listening to them? Damn vamp had hearing like-like- a vamp. And the lurking thing he had going? Not easy on privacy.

“Everything okay Angel?” Wesley asked ignoring the awkward pause from his comrades.

“How’s the girl?” Lorne put in quickly trying to hide his embarrassment.

“She’ll be fine.” Angel had been listening although unintentionally but he chose not to comment on it. He wanted to go, his body was screaming for blood, a shower and rest. Since Cordelia was in a coma there would be no one to bandage his wounds and he missed that. It wasn’t necessary as he healed quickly but it had been nice to feel cared for. Now he healed on his own, not one of his friends even bothered to offer assistance but he was okay with that. They were drifting apart and that was what niggled. He blamed his own moods as part of the problem.

The lift doors opened and Angel stepped forward to hold them open. Gunn handed over Angel’s sword as he entered. “Here man.”

“Thanks.” His large hand clasped the hilt gratefully. It was his favourite and had seen him through a lot of battles.

“So we done here?” Lorne squeezed by being careful with the crossbow. “Are we finished?”

Wesley followed, chin on his texts eyes on Angel. “Wolfram and Hart’s finest will go over this place with a fine tooth comb. It’ll take a couple of days. But yes I think that we can depart.”

Angel let the doors close and after placing the sword in its scabbard in his coat, took almost all of the texts from Wesley. The Englishman noticed the ease in which the vampire handled the heavy volumes. His muscles trembled with envy as the tension eased. He didn’t dare caution Angel about getting blood on the books.

“What’s going to happen to the legitimate side of the business? Demons have to shop somewhere.”

Lorne had a point that got the young black lawyer thinking.

“We can let the employees run the place. The three you let live and the front man? We can have Lorne read them and see if they are died in the wool evil or just frightened staff.”

“Didn’t you advise them to leave this place of employment?” Wesley glanced over to Gunn as he reminded the young man of his previous words of advice.

They were at the end of their ride and the doors opened to two black clad operatives with a trolley. Angel led the way around them into the market area; the Graplar had been removed. The spiny demon was also gone though the splashes of green blood stood as testimony to it’s timely demise. Angel raised an eyebrow at his two human friends and they grinned back at him pleased with themselves.

This reminded Angel that Gunn had been wounded and his eyes went to the arm in question. “How’s the arm Gunn? I think you need to get it looked at now. One of the medics-”

“It’s been better. I’ll get Fred to take a look.” Gunn interrupted his boss feeling a little uneasy.

“I’ll check the demon database for details on our demon friend. There should be an antidote for the poison.” Wesley put in.

“Poison? As in I’m not going to die I hope?” Charles Gunn almost screamed hysterically.

“No, I think not.” They had reached the front entrance and were out into the street.

The road was busy with a couple of ambulances, vans and people scurrying about.

Wesley continued as they made their way to Angel’s car. “Just an antidote for the pain and swelling, otherwise you may be in for a rough couple of days.”

“Thank God,” Gunn breathed. Then he took another look at Angel, the guy was walking wounded and in a mess of hurt judging by the careful way he carried the books and himself. He shouldn’t complain but as he settled into the back seat of the car he stifled a small groan.

This time Angel gave Wesley the keys and slid into the front seat after depositing the books and weapons in the car’s trunk. He gritted his teeth as he felt a broken rib move inside his chest and wished he had something to sit on that would save the upholstery from the blood.

Wesley eyed the keys and knew for certain that Angel was in more pain than he let on and Charles Gunn was looking a tad seedy. He quietly took the driver’s seat, no hint of glee on his face.

“So boss. We finished here?” Lorne repeated his earlier question as he carefully sat next to Gunn.

“Yeah, I think so.” Angel laid his head back and closed his eyes. He was dead tired and couldn’t put much more effort into talking.

Wesley turned the key and pulled away from the curb leaving behind a small part of Angel’s past.