False Claims

Chapter Four





For the first time since he began in his capacity as Buffy’s watcher Giles was giving his slayer only half of his attention. As she talked about studying for tests and the new band at the Bronze tonight (a not so subtle hint on her part in the hopes that he would release her from her duties early), his thoughts were more and more on the young cheerleader who had yet to grace them with her presence.



Although he appreciated her calling him last night and letting him know that she was safe and the current state of the amulet, he had to admit that he had been left sleepless by an endless array of questions, starting with what the purpose of the amulet might be, and ending with why Cordelia was still alive.



Not that Giles would wish for any other outcome than one that ended with the girl’s safety, but the fact that Angelus would let her live was as confusing as it was relieving. If only she would hurry along so that he could put these nagging uncertainties to rest.



As if by magic, which on the Hellmouth was always a possibility, Cordelia made her way into the library. Dressed in a pair of faded yet obviously expensive jeans and a copper hued turtle neck with sneakers of a matching color, her casual look was completed by a dark clip which gathered her thick, lustrous hair, pulling it away from her face and holding it securely at the back of her neck. The young women looked strikingly lovely, and yet oddly overdressed for the unseasonably warm day.



Seeing Cordelia garbed in a manner less then her usual sophisticated apparel made her seem more vulnerable, as if her fashion choices functioned almost as a form of armor. It reminded Giles not just how truly young all of these children were, but that this particular child had spent the last night in the midst of a trauma the likes of which most people could never conceive.



Never did a day go by that Giles didn’t feel the tremendous weight of his crushing guilt for what these students were giving up. Buffy thought that he didn’t understand her desire to be a normal girl. Of course he did. If he could take her destiny on his own shoulders and give her the life that she deserved he would do so in an instant. But he knew that was an impossibility.



Many were the days when he wanted to relieve her of her duties and tell her to go, leave this place and pursue her dreams of normalcy. Yet how longs would that idyllic life last without a slayer to stem the rising tides of darkness. It was unquestionably cruel that such a heavy burden fell on such slim shoulders, and yet he knew that it must remain so. For if the slayer were to falter, truly the world would fall.



As a watcher, Giles had been able to learn over time to accept the role this girl must play in the supernatural theater. He didn’t pretend to like it, but its necessity could not be denied. In that he was a complete and utter realist. What he had never prepared himself for was the sacrifice that those around his slayer would make.



Slayers were, by design, loners. Indeed, all watchers new that the slayer was she who stands alone against the forces of darkness”. And yet Buffy defied this convention at every turn. In her quest for a life separate, greater than that of her role as slayer, she had made commitments, forged relationships, garnered loyalties. And those loyalties had certainly proven fierce. Time after time those close to the slayer had stood shoulder to shoulder against the evil inherent to the Hellmouth with nothing more than their bravery and their endless confidence in their friend to protect them. Giles knew an entire council full of people who understood the dangers of this mystical convergence of evil and yet none stood here ready to fight. These children put them to shame.



But as the days passed and his knowledge of each of his charges grew, so did his guilt. Buffy had little choice but to be the slayer. Until her death and the calling of the next, she was the champion of the light. Abandoning her post would do nothing but hasten the demise of the world, herself included. But the others had no such constrictions. They could leave at any time, and while he had serious reservations about the future of Xander Harris, he could definitely see bright prospects for the others. They could live happy and fulfilling lives far away from this place of evil, but still he let them stay, let them fight. And while the sorrow at that decision increased daily, so did his understanding that these young people did more than just fight with the slayer; they made her better.



For generations slayers stood alone, however Giles was finding that having them do so may have been a mistake. What drives one to fight unendingly when one had nothing for which to fight? Buffy had friends and family that gave her a connection to the world and, in doing so, made it a place worthy of the battle she constantly waged. And so he let this children’s crusade continue.



But for all of that insight, seeing Cordelia standing there looking all of her tender years, he found himself once again questioning his decisions.



Setting aside his doubts he called to the girl still hovering close to the doorway. The uncertainty was at odds with her usual overwhelming self-confidence, and it only increased his uneasiness as to the events of last night.



“Cordelia, do come and sit down. You’re looking well, considering. Our conversation last night was rather brief and I have some questions that I hope you can answer.”



As his girlfriend made her way into the seat next to his Xander grabbed her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. He too had spoken briefly on the phone with her last night, and although assured of her physical safety, he knew that she must have been scared out of her mind.



When the group had realized that they had greatly underestimated the resistance they would meet with last night, Xander’s first thoughts had been for his best friend’s safety. Sure that Willow would have the amulet, he was terrified at thoughts of what Angelus might do to her to get it back.



When the had finally dispatched the last of Angelus’ hired guns and made their way to where the redhead lay, shaking on the ground, Xander had been unbelievably relieved.



That relief was soon to give way to heart-stopping terror as he listened to Willow explain that it was Cordelia, and not she who had the amulet. Realizing that Angelus had taken off in pursuit of his girlfriend, Xander wildly asked which way Cordelia went and took off running in that general direction.



An hour of searching, first for the cheerleader, and then just for her body had stretched Xander to the breaking point. It’s true that you don’t know what you have until you loose it. He had never realized that the love/hate relationship that had developed between him and Cordelia was fast becoming one in which love far outweighed the hate.



Walking back to the library last night after the fruitless search, Xander was surprised at the continuous flow of tears down his cheeks as he contemplated never seeing Cordelia alive again, never tasting her lips. He even felt a loss at the thought of never hearing her cutting remarks belittling him in front of whoever happened to be present at the time.



The others thought that Cordelia was nothing but a bitch, but he knew better. Her life wasn’t something that they’d understand. They saw the money, the popularity, the designer clothes and they thought that was the whole picture. But Xander had learned in the past few months that there were more layers to his girlfriend than he could probably discover in a lifetime.



Cordelia’s life may look like a bed of roses, but it was more like a thicket of thorns. Although she would never do anything publicly other than present the picture of familial perfection, her parents often had less to do with her than his and Willow’s put together. When they did deign to be around it was only to crush her with wildly unrealistic expectations of perfection. Cordelia’s entire persona was built on satisfying these expectations. More to the point, it was about staving off the scathing disappointment that her parent were all to willing to heap upon her at the slightest deviation from their master plan for her life.



Hadn’t he seen this very thing when Cordelia had taken him home to meet her parents; a term he would use loosely? While the Chases had politely excused themselves to the adjacent room to speak with their daughter, the mahogany doors did little to muffle their ever escalating voices.



With the attitude Xander had witnessed from Cordelia in the rest of her life, he had assumed that he had front row seating for the battle of the century. But not once did he hear her raised voice escape the room. Instead, her parents had railed at her, heaping on a never-ending litany of abuse. Although Xander expected the conversation to concern his deficiencies as boyfriend material, it had centered rather on what a disappointment Cordelia was as a daughter. When they reentered the room, Xander expected to be told to go home. He expected Cordelia to tell him that she wanted nothing more to do with him. No words could ever express his shock and his pride when Cordelia informed him that the two of them would be eating out that night.



Leaving her fuming parents behind, he and Cordelia had endeavored to enjoy their evening. However, when Xander tried to broach the subject of her parents, Cordelia coldly informed him that particular topic was not up for discussion, refusing to break in front of anyone, even him.



The others might mistake Cordelia’s attempts at self-protection as shallowness on her part, but not him, never again. She’d given up more than they knew to be with him, her friends, her status, her parent’s approval and in a way he felt deeply ashamed that he hadn’t realized how much that meant to him until last night.



Determined to make up for any shortcomings on his part in their relationship, Xander had spent the day attempting to be the perfect boyfriend. Unfortunately, he had no idea what that entailed. About halfway through lunch after Cordelia nailed him in the chest with her half eaten apple and the demand that he “stop hovering”, he gave up his efforts to be perfect and just tried to be supportive. He knew he must be better at that by the way that Cordelia was now grasping his hand like a lifeline and smiling thankfully up at him.



As she took her seat Giles adjusted his glasses both to see better and to allow him a moment to gather his thoughts and decide on the right way to approach what, surely for the girl, was a delicate topic.



As both Buffy and Willow took their seats, Giles began the interrogation.



“If you could, Cordelia, go over last nights events it would be very helpful with any attempts we make to retrieve the amulet.”



This was the part of the day Cordelia had dreaded since closing her front door last night. This confrontation, which had her dragging her feet from her last class to the library in the hopes of forestalling the inevitable seemed, almost as if it was going to be worse that the evening she’d spent with Angelus. At least she’d gotten out of that alive. After giving away the amulet she wondered if she’d be so lucky today.



Still, Cordelia was a survivor and last night she’d certainly survived, which is more that most people could do while being uncooperative with a master vampire. Straightening her spine and strengthening her resolve she readied herself for the questions coming her way. She was Cordelia Chase, she did not break, she did not bend. Okay, maybe she bent a little, but that was only in the face of an extreme tortuous death, not because her school librarian might be upset with her.



After all, what could Giles really do? Raise her library fines? Beat her with a crumpet? Have his ultimate killing machine, Buffy rip her heart out? Okay, so not the good thoughts.



Actually, as she looked at him now she was surprised to see nothing but compassion and an underlying curiosity on his face. Maybe she was so used to the disappointment of her parents that she just naturally expected it from Giles.



At that thought Cordelia recognized that she was being unfair. Giles had never been anything other than kind to her, even in the most difficult of circumstances. The man seemed to have the patience of Job and she would do nothing but give him the benefit of the doubt.



“Well, Willow and I found the necklace right where it was, unfortunately supposed to be - on a dead guy. After a brief discussion about who should get the honor of stealing the dead guys valuables, which, by the way, is probably a curse worthy act here on the Hellmouth I just grabbed the damn thing so we could get out of there.”



At this point Willow, a look of guilt spreading across her face, interrupted. “I’m sorry, Cordelia. I should have gone ahead and taken it.”



Cordelia, who was not one to be overly generous to the redhead, smiled reassuringly at her. “Not an issue, Willow. One of us had to grab it, and there’s no way anyone could have known what would happen, so don’t beat yourself up.”



As Willow sat in shock of a reply from the brunette that carried no trace of her usual cattiness, the rest of the gang wondered what other effects the near death experience had on the girl.



For her part, Cordelia was extremely grateful the she and not Willow had taken the amulet last night. Although she was undeniably brilliant, Willow tended to crack under pressure. So while she probably would have been able to devise a much better escape plan than getting herself bitten by evil incarnate, she probably would not have been able to execute her plan in any reasonable manner. Worse, she probably would have spilled the whole thing to Angelus at the first glare he threw her way. Willow did have a tendency to babble.



At the clearing of Giles’ throat, Cordelia realized that the brief lull had become an uncomfortable silence filled with the anticipation of most of the room’s occupants.



“When we were finally able to reach the car the sun had set and the embodiment of evil was leaning against it. I wonder if that’ll damage the paint.”



“Willow ran one way and I ran the other, ‘cause that whole safety in numbers thing has really turned out to be a bunch of crap.”



Now came the difficult part of her story. Reminding herself that she trusted Giles, she plowed ahead.



“As I was running through the rows of headstones I saw one that looked kind of new. It had some flowers in a little vase, so I hid the amulet inside. Then I took off running again because I figured that by than Angelus would have figured out that Willow didn’t have it. By the way, glad to see he didn’t kill you to get that info.”



A shy but sunny smile brightened Willow’s features at the words of concern from a girl that she was sure hated her. “Thanks.” Willow said softly, feeling as if maybe Xander was right and they didn’t know all there was to know about Cordelia.



“So when I reached the edge of the cemetery I stopped to see if there was some place safe to run too. Most the houses there looked pretty empty, but one was all lit up. I figured bang on the door, get inside, call the cavalry.”



“A sound plan, but obviously not what happened.” Giles interjected her to give Cordelia a moment.



“Not exactly. Sure, I got to the house. Then I saw Angelus coming and I let myself in. The door was unlocked and believe me, that’s the last time I’ll trust anybody who doesn’t lock their front door in this miserable town.”



“The occupants of the house?” Giles asked, somewhat confused as he had thought that Angelus had been the threat last night.



“Demons! Of course, here in Sunnydale I guess it’s a given that any house you enter gives you a 50/50 shot of being in the presence of demons. But this was even beyond that. It was that stupid clan of arterial demons - and oh my God don’t you correct me Giles!”



Giles’ mouth snapped shut at the preemptive reprimand. After all, if the children wanted to flaunt their ignorance it was of no concern to him. He knew that if he repeated that philosophy enough it was sure to become true.



“I guess they got a place next to the cemetery for the meeting with Angelus. So just as I’m about to make my presence known, ‘cause I certainly don’t want to get shot by some ticked off home owners, who should grab me from behind but the fanged wonder.”



Good Lord, thought Giles. This was worse than he’d originally thought. Not only did Cordelia have to deal with Angelus, but also a room full of A’toreal demons. How on earth had she managed to escape? Restraining his barrage of questions he waited patiently for her to continue.



“Angelus pulled me into a study and we cut a deal.”



“A deal? With Angelus? This is the same “Kill your family, kill your friends” Angelus that we’ve come to know and loathe, right?”



Xander’s amazement was slightly more colorful, but no less indicative of the shock flowing through the rest of the group. Angelus was not the kind of demon with whom one simply made deals. In fact, were vampires ever able to experience childhood their report cards were sure to be filled with “Does not work and play well with others” commentary. And probably a number of parent teacher conferences in which the vampy parents were gently encouraged to teach their children that it’s not good citizenship to eat their fellow classmates.



Deciding to ignore the stares of disbelief, Cordelia addressed Xander’s question. “Yes, Xander, a deal. That’s why I’m here now and not a bloodless corpse on Buffy’s porch.”



Wincing not only at the vivid imagery, but also the extreme likelihood of that scenario, Giles probed the depths of this “deal”.



“Yes, when you say deal, what exactly does that entail? I assume you gave the amulet for your safety, but how did you get that Angelus to let you go once he’d taken possession of it?”



Hearing no censure in Giles’ voice at the fact that she’d given Angelus the amulet, Cordelia breathed a soft sigh of relief and continued her story.



“Oh, believe me Giles, I didn’t trust Angelus to let me wake up this morning with a pulse, so I didn’t give him what he wanted until I was already safe.”



“You see, first we had to go make up some lame ass excuse for the demons as to why Angelus didn’t have their jewelry and why he was dragging a human around with him. Once we did that he drug me out of that house super quick. I think he was probably afraid if I opened my mouth one more time everything would go to Hell in a hand basket. Which isn’t a very long trip from here.”



“When we got back to the cemetery I told him that the deal was for me to be home. I think that he just wanted to get everything over with because he agreed and we took my car home.”



“When we got there the big, fat liar said I couldn’t go inside ‘til I coughed up his stupid amulet. He was trying to intimidate me by squishing my personal bubble.”



Xander cringed at the thought. Not just of Angelus being so close to her, but the memories of all the times that he had received the wrath of Cordelia Chase for crimes against “the bubble”. If he wasn’t a sadistic, homicidal maniac who slept with the girl he’d had a crush on for over a year, Xander might just feel sorry for Angelus.



“So I let him think that I was all scared and cowering and them BAM!”



“Good Lord, he hit you?!” Giles exclaimed as he straightened to his full height intending to rush to the girl and examine here for injuries.



Cordelia rolled her eyes and waved away Giles’ concern, a look of self-satisfaction stealing over her features. “Pfft, I’m sure. Of course I didn’t mean BAM - he hit me. I meant BAM - I used my remote to the electronic locks on the front door and fell through backwards and out of insaniac’s reach.”



Xander smiled at his girlfriend. The few times he’d been to the Chase home while her parents were away he’d been fascinated with that particular security feature. Using her remote to open the door repeatedly, Cordelia finally grew bored with his childlike glee, informed him that he was a first class dork, and went for a swim. If there’s one thing to pull a guy away from a remote it’s a woman like Cordelia Chase in a bikini. Needless to say the door was abandoned in favor of frolicking in the pool.



“Yes, well, excellent thinking, Cordelia.” Giles was truly impressed. The numbers of those dead at Angelus’ hands had never been calculated with any certainty, but must surely rank in the thousands. That this young, beautiful girl, a friend of the slayer’s, had manage to walk away without serious injury was a credit to her quick thinking and steady nerves.



Unsure how to ask the next question in a way that did not sound callous, Giles heard Xander beat him to the punch. Nor had the young man discovered how to couch his question sensitively, obviously.



“So if you were safe, why’d you give him the amulet?”



As both the blonde and the redhead cringed and mentally said farewell to their friend, Cordelia’s spine snapped into an upright position as a look of absolute fury swept her face.



“Why’d I give it to him? Why’d I give it to him?” Giles winced as Cordelia’s voice crept steadily higher. “I’ll tell you why I gave it to him Mr. Xander “apparently my girlfriend is expendable” Harris.”



“Do you know what he threatened to do to me if he didn’t get his precious amulet back? Let’s just say the choices were me without my skin or me in little pieces. And most of us in this room have no doubts that he would have done it.”



“Sure, I could’ve never gone outside for the rest of my life, but then again, last night taught us nothing if not that Angelus has plenty of daytime help.”



“So what was I supposed to do, Xander? Keep his necklace on principal so that I could spend today being carved up like a Christmas turkey?!”



Surprisingly it was Buffy who cut off Xander’s stuttering reply. “I’m sure Xander didn’t mean it that way, Cordelia. You were right to give him the necklace. Withholding it just would have made you a target of God knows what kind of sick revenge plan. The most important thing here is that you made it through and you’re okay. We can worry about getting the necklace back later.”



Buffy knew that she’d shocked Cordelia the defense of her actions the previous night, but she’d meant every word. She and Cordelia may not really be friends, but she was helping them, and at great risk to herself. Being demon bait - not a super safe profession. She was in even more danger after last night’s debacle. As she could attest, catching Angelus’ eye, even in a small way was never good for a person’s health.



That’s what made this especially hard. Buffy always felt responsible for the supernatural happenings in Sunnydale. But this was more. Even if no one was saying it, she felt to blame for unleashing Angelus on the world once again.



Her friends were completely supportive, telling her that she was no way that she could have known about that stupid happiness restriction to Angel’s cure. And yet she felt the burden of every death Angelus caused and every act of evil he wreaked weighed on her soul as if she were causing it herself. All of the faceless victims surely meeting their end at the vicious vampire’s hands haunted the slayer’s dreams. She couldn’t imagine the endless nightmares she’d endure were she to have a face to put with the name. Especially one she knew well.



Dragging her thoughts from their downward spiral she soldiered on. “Now we just have to figure out how to get the amulet back.”



“Yeah, well I told Angelus that you were gonna kick his ass and take it back.”



Surprised at the ringing confidence in Cordelia’s tone, especially after how poorly last night went, Buffy’s eyes snapped to the cheerleaders and the two shared a small smile.



In the midst of the easing of tensions Xander once again threw in his two very unwanted cents.



“Here’s a thought. Why don’t we just kill Angelus and then we won’t have to worry about this amulet anymore.”



Willow expressed her opinion at that suggestion by kicking Xander under the table much harder than one would expect from such a delicate looking girl. Even Cordelia was looking at him, the unspoken “dumbass” spelt out clearly in her hazel eyes. Her words weren’t any more comforting.



“Geez, Xander, why don’t you be a little more insensitive. Oh wait, you can’t. Besides, the amulet was for the demons, not Angelus. By the time we get to him he’ll probably have given it to them, if he hasn’t already, so we’ll still have to worry about the damn thing.”



On seeing Xander’s face fall at the realization that he’d hurt Buffy, Cordelia felt torn. Her first instinct was to be mad. Xander never worried about her feelings the way that he did Buffy’s. It was exhausting sometimes to feel like you were always in competition with someone you couldn’t beat ‘cause they weren’t even playing the game and it was still neck and neck. She had no illusions that Xander would stay with her if Buffy expressed an interest.



On the other hand hadn’t her boyfriend spent the entire day demonstrating how much he actually did care about her in his own dorky way? It wasn’t really Xander’s fault that he was blinded by the slayer. After all, who wouldn’t be ensnared by a genuine super hero in trampy clothing? Sometimes she truly wondered if Xander was worth all of this effort.



Still, even though she’d read him the riot act, she didn’t completely disagree with him. So, laying a gentle hand on his arm she delivered a friendly warning. “Xander, don’t wish for things that just aren’t going to happen.”



Hearing Cordelia’s words Buffy found a target that was sure to be more satisfying than Xander, and pinning Cordelia with a hard look, blew off some of her steam at a girl she wasn’t sure was entirely wrong.



“Don’t, Cordelia. You just don’t understand.”



Cordelia couldn’t suppress the laughter that bubbled up, and frankly she didn’t even try.



“Don’t kid yourself, Buffy. I understand more than you know.”



“I get that with Angel losing his soul in such a seemingly arbitrary way you can’t help that if you wait long enough something equally random will happen to bring it back. Maybe Angelus will even chow down on another gypsy girl and boom - instant Angel, just add magick and stir.”



“And while I’m not judging ‘cause, let’s face it, for all I know I just gave him the key to the Hellmouth’s deadbolt, I am allowed to be a little bitter. After all, I’m the one who got chomped on by your psycho ex last night.”



If Buffy had tried to devise a better plan to get everyone’s attention off of her fantasies about saving Angel, she couldn’t have created anything more distracting than Cordelia’s last statement.



“What?” Xander cried jumping up to stare in horror at Cordelia, images of Jesse crowding his head.



Giles too felt the need to interject. “He bit you?”



Cordelia expected the reaction from Xander, but the anger and concern radiating from the watcher on her behalf warmed her heart and made her rush to set his mind at ease.



“It’s okay guys, ‘cause...umm not dead here. Did you guys really think I’m wearing last season’s turtle neck to revive an ancient fashion trend?”



Willow, who’d been fairly quiet up to this point, was overcome by her ever-present need to understand.



“Why didn’t Angelus, you know...drain you. Not that I’d want him to ‘cause then you’d be - well, a dead Cordelia. Ooh! Or an undead Cordelia.” Willow’s voice slowly petered out as she lost herself in wide-eyed contemplation of the unholy terror that would be a vampire Cordelia.



After a night spent dwelling on just that very thought Cordelia was quick to move away from that subject.



“Look, from what the fang happy freak told me it was just window dressing to make it easier for the demons to accept me being there.” There was no way that she was going to discuss the degrading “pet” talk. She’d never hear the end of that.



Buffy was more than willing to take Cordelia’s explanation on faith. Knowing that Angelus was that close to killing her best friend’s girlfriend was making her vaguely ill. Desperate to change the subject she did what slayer’s do best and started formulating a plan to address the immediate problem.



“So, you can show us where the demons are?”



Cordelia, also wanting to redirect the conversation from last night’s humiliations, gratefully followed Buffy’s lead.



“Yeah, but I got the feeling that wasn’t their normal place, more like a meeting place for the amulet exchange.”



Giles, with the same attention to detail that enabled him to pass as a librarian declared, “We should still check it out.”



“You bet we should.” Agreed Cordelia, already making her way to the door. “After all, I may not know what kind of mojo that amulet’s gonna let loose, but I do know that Angelus is trading it so that he can stage a hostile takeover of the Hellmouth and become the big cheese.”



As she passed through the doors on the way to her car, Cordelia missed the horrified looks on the faces of those who couldn’t seem to make their bodies move to follow her.









Chapter Five





Well, that was a complete waste of yet another afternoon, Cordelia thought as she remembered the last three days since the amulet incident. Endless hours spent combing every part of the house she’d been in, searching records, and reading dusty old books in the hopes of finding where a bunch of amulet wearing demons might hide. But there were no A’toreal demons, no Angelus, and absolutely no reason for them to waste time they could have been spending at The Bronze.



Well, better late than never she thought as she climbed out of her car. Reaching back into the passenger seat she pulled out a silk scarf. It matched the emerald green silk of the blouse she matched up with a pair of black, velvet slacks, and would hopefully, with the help of her hair cascading in gentle waves over her shoulders, hide the still raw vampire bite on her neck.



As she straightened up and closed the car door she let out a chocked scream as she was swept off her feet and spun around. Finding herself in a darkened corner of the parking lot, she was trapped by the arms banded around her, pulling her into a rock hard body as she heard a sadly familiar voice purr into her ear.



“Miss me, baby?”



Dammit all, she’d been so close to The Bronze, so close to people who...well, actually they probably couldn’t help her much. She had a feeling that whatever was going on now Angelus would see them as more of an appetizer than a substitute meal.



“Not as much as I’m going to miss my heartbeat if you keep grabbing me out of nowhere.”



Resting his head against the side of hers, Angelus couldn’t help but take a moment to inhale Cordelia’s new and improved scent. Emanating not just from his mark but from every pore in her body was her unique aroma, a blending of sweetness and spice like cinnamon swirled with sugar, and his own scent - age, danger and an unrestrained power few would be foolhardy enough to defy.



He whisper into the ear so temptingly close to his lips, “Maybe I like grabbing you.”



Cordelia Chase was an awesome flirt, but even she could admit when she was out of her depth. Maybe if it had been Angel standing here. He’d been controllable; the slayer had certainly proved that, tugging on his leash more times than she cared to remember. That, however, was not the case with the vampire who stood before her now. Dark and menacing, Angelus was not in anyway a candidate for either harmless or serious flirting.



Deciding the direct approach was called for, Cordelia pushed down the shivers produced by the soft words blown into her ear. In the mood he was in she immediately discarded the suggestive, “What do you want?” and went for something more likely to keep their libidos on an even keel.



“Why are you here?”



The gentle nuzzling of her hair ceased as Angelus felt the irritation of the other night flood back into his system. Feeling his body begin to harden just at the scent of her, the feel of her lithe body pressed into his, his annoyance grew by leaps and bounds at her continuing cold demeanor. Didn’t she understand what that did to a demon? Like a red cape to a bull it drove him to wild with thoughts of pushing the issue, touching her in ways she couldn’t deny.



But those were games for another day as he pushed down his instincts to possess and reminded himself that tonight he need her cooperation. It would certainly be easier if she gave it even somewhat willingly.



Angelus allowed his arms to drop to his side but entwined the fingers of one his hands with her own. While Cordelia was in no way fooled that this was a tender gesture, knowing that the move was only to ensure she didn’t try to run, she was still grateful for the reprieve. Despite her outward iciness she was unsure how much longer she could have remained in his arms and not melted into a puddle of well dressed goo.



What the Hell was wrong with her? This wasn’t just an evil demon. No, apparently, with her help, he was king of all the evil he surveyed. He was off limits in the worst way and this hormone driven craving that she had to lean back into the body that had just granted her space was insane. Where were her survival instincts? God she hated being a teenager.



“Well, my dear, it seems the A’toreal’s are giving a dinner tonight in my honor, a public return of their amulet and a show of loyalty to me in front of the ruling members of the major demon clans in the area.”



Knowing that he could not be heading in the direction she thought, Cordelia gave him her sunniest smile. “Well, you have fun with that. Parties are always a lovely break from the grind of...uh...evil doing. Now if you’ll excuse me.”



She knew it wouldn’t be that easy, but she was still disappointed when the hand holding hers tightened, refusing to let her flee to the relative safety of the nightclub behind her.



“Actually, we’ve both been invited.” Angelus stressed, a sudden sly smile cutting across his face. “Isn’t that sweet, it’ll be our first date. Apparently the A’toreals were very taken with you.”



Cordelia decided to ignore his asinine allusion to them dating and cut to the real matter at hand.



“And that matters to me because?”



Using their connected fingers to jerk her once again flush with his body, Angelus explained. “That matters to you because you’re my little business asset. And when you cease being my business asset you become my business liability. And when that happens my only option will be to liquidate you.”



It was like being threatened by her economics teacher, if he happened to be a demon. A possibility that Cordelia had often considered. And yet she was chilled to the marrow in her bones. Not by the threat per se, but by how absolutely unconcerned he seemed about killing her.



Cordelia knew that here, cornered in a dark parking lot, she was out of options. The best she could do was to try to find out what his plans for her might be tonight. After all, she didn’t think that the electronic lock trick would work twice.



“This isn’t like the last time. My leverage is fairly limited. How do I know you won’t kill me as soon as dinner’s over? Kind of like a vampy dessert?”



The predator in Angelus suddenly became far more pronounced than it had been even when he was threatening her life. “You don’t. Hopefully that will motivate you to be on your best behavior.”



“Honestly, I could kill you now. The A’toreals are demons, they’d understand. Still, it’s beneficial for me to have you there. Do a good job for me and I’ll cut you the same deal as before - you home, safe and sound.”



Cordelia had the nagging suspicion that she was not just looking her gift horse in the mouth, but counting its teeth, yet she couldn’t seem to leave good luck unquestioned. “Why?”



Angelus had already asked himself that question a number of times. He was slightly uncomfortable with his lack of murderous intent where this girl was concerned. Sure, he’d kill her in a heartbeat if he felt like it. What bothered him was that he didn’t feel like it more.



“Like I said, you’re useful. Besides, I’d like to have the Hellmouth politics out of the way before I start killing off the slayer’s band of merry men. I want to be able to give her my full attention.”



“Why?” Angelus let his demon face come forward. “Are you trying to work your way up my list?”



Cordelia blew out the breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding, resigned to another night in the vampire’s company.



“No. In this area of my life I’m absolutely ecstatic about being last. So what do you need me to do?”



Satisfied, Angelus’ features faded back to his human semblance.



“There’s my good girl.”



Teeth grinding almost painfully Cordelia knew she was taking her life in her hands, but she wouldn’t put up with this condescending crap one more minute. She was a person, not a dog, and more than that she was Cordelia frickin’ Chase. She had pride, she had dignity, she had -



“First we go shopping.”



“Oooh, shopping!”



Immediately distracted from her internal tirade, Cordelia found herself feeling pleased for the first time since the vampire grabbed her. After all, evil and shopping was certainly better than evil and no shopping.







Chapter Six





If Cordelia had known what they would be shopping for she would have taken her evil straight up, without the splash of shopping. As she surveyed the picture she presented in the dressing room mirror she was once again drowning in the depths of Angelus inspired humiliation.



Gone were the clubbing clothes she’d carefully chosen for a night on the non-demony social scene, and in their place was...well, almost nothing.



Having dragged her to one of Sunnydale’s surprisingly prolific leather stores, Angelus told her to wait in the dressing room and proceeded to select what was obviously the smallest scrap of leather he could find. And frankly, Cordelia thought bitterly, finding it probably required a magnifying glass.



She nearly jumped out of her skin, most of which was exposed, at the swift and heavy pounding on the door.



“Cordelia, get your leather clad ass out here. We don’t have time for this. How hard can it be to put on something so small?”



The last was muttered to himself as he waited for Cordelia to emerge.



For her part, Cordelia was trying, and miserably failing to pull the bottom of the skirt down without her breast spilling out of the undersized top.



Covered with a spattering of white leather, the amazingly eye catching contrast to her bronze coloring couldn’t be denied. The top was cut in much the same shape as a sports bra. However, instead of reducing the natural bounce of her breasts, it seem designed to enhance it as the tight material thrust her breasts upward, spilling them over the low, heart shaped neckline.



The skirt was no better, ending far above her knees; it was cut in such a way that hem line was a diagonal, showing far more of her left thigh than her right. The top of the skirt rested low on her hips, leaving her gently curved naval on erotic display.



But by far the worst part of the ensemble were the two delicate, silver chains that dangled from the lowest edge of the material underneath her breast, crossing just above her bellybutton and attaching to the top of the skirt at her hips. Tow identical chains in the back completed her outfit making it impossible for one scrap of leather to be moved without displacing the other.



It wasn’t the lack of material that was necessarily the problem. Cordelia had worn less than this at the beach on many occasions. And yet somehow she felt more naked now than she had in the briefest of her bikinis.



As she considered this she concluded that it must be the situation. Wearing something of the microscopic variety while those around her would be far more appropriately dressed made her feel more exposed than being completely naked, but with others who were nude also.



Still, she didn’t know much about what demons wore, not having read Villainy Vogue, so maybe she wouldn’t stand out.



Her pep talk was interrupted by more banging on what, in retrospect, wasn’t seeming like all that sturdy of a door.



“Cordelia, open this goddamn door! I’m not asking you again.”



“Again?? I’m still waiting for you to ask the first time.” Cordelia called out as she finished zipping up the stiletto heeled, calf length boots Angelus had tossed to her over the door earlier.



Hearing Angelus’ hand on the doorknob, she realized that he was more than willing to crush it and break the door down to gain entrance. Cordelia swallowed her embarrassment and moved to let him in grumbling beneath her breath, “Geez, keep your pants on. Lord knows I wish I could keep mine on.”



As the door swung open Angelus stilled in the middle of his headlong rush into the small room. The stunned look in his eyes carried over from brown to burning topaz as his true features pushed forward.



Cordelia’s step back from the clearly agitated vampire was wasted as hands gripped her bare waist, pinning her to the wall and locking her in with the weight of his heavily muscled form.



If seeing her drove Angelus wild, nothing prepared him for what touching her would do. Reason was slowly being stripped away as an incinerating passion began to sweep through him. Being driven solely by instinct he buried his face in her neck his cool tongue soothing the still raw skin in preparation.



Before his deadly fangs could spill her blood once more, Cordelia’s voice called to him, pulling him back to rationality.



“Dammit, no! No more biting. This one’s plenty new. I thought we had a deal.”



“Oh, we have a deal Cordelia.” Angelus rasped the words into here neck where his questing lips remained. “Like I said, it’s the same as before, and I certainly seem to remember biting being a part of that.”



“Besides, what’s a nibble compared to your life? Because if I don’t get what I want from you tonight then you’re no good to me and I might as well take it all as a mouthful.”



Knowing she had no choice but compliance, Cordelia stopped fighting and closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax as much as one could with a vampire, literally at their neck.



Confined sight was soon restored, as shock forced her eyes open when, instead of a bite she felt Angelus’ lips crash into her own.



Swamped by an instantaneous passion, Angelus delighted in the amount of skin available to his touch. The silky textured beckoned him, and he heeded its siren’s call, splaying his hands as widely as possible to maximize stimulation.



His tongue thrust into her mouth and crowded her own, compelling her participate in the oral assault, moving against him with her own silken appendage. Angelus growled deeply as the taste of her inundated him with half forgotten fragments of erotic dreams which had haunted him since he’d tasted her last.



His wandering hands had yet to still as they skimmed her diminutive skirt and, running down soft, velvet legs, came to rest against her exposed, inner thighs.



As his cool hands roved skin slightly dampened by the overexertion of their lustful embrace, Cordelia’s incoherent murmurs of encouragement rolled from her tongue directly to his. The sounds were Angelus’ undoing and all thoughts of their night’s destination were pushed to the background as he firmly eased her thighs apart.



Cordelia’s legs spread to accommodate the hand now pressing against her silk covered juncture, her eyes squeezed fast as fingers danced over the moist material. Tearing her mouth free she gasped, both in the search for oxygen and astonishment at the new and nameless need that drove her to thrust forcefully against the probing digits.



Angelus used the newfound freedom of his lips to navigate the exquisite length of satin between her lips and his mark. Reaching his destination, he pressed reverent kisses to the scarring wounds. As enameled blades scraped teasingly over the healing flesh his fingers slipped past the elasticized barrier and moved to gently circle her now erect and throbbing nub.



As the scent of her arousal filled the still air around them, Angelus could wait no longer and pierced through the scarcely sealed holes freeing the blood pounding wildly beneath.



Cordelia’s moan of pleasure deepened to a harsh discordant sound that only comes when pleasure is intermingled with pain as Angelus’ fangs slid home. The pull of his mouth on her neck and his fingers on her clit overwhelmed her senses and left her shaking with need.



The sound of patrons making their way towards the dressing room cleared away just enough of Angelus’ prurient bloodlust and allowed him to acknowledge Cordelia’s swoon to be one of blood loss as opposed to delight. Knowing that his pleasure had come all to quickly to an end, he couldn’t help but pause a moment, and push forward, driving his fangs further into the delicate curve of Cordelia’s neck, making his newer mark far more prominent than the first.



At the simultaneous withdrawal of both his fingers and teeth, Cordelia mewled in disappointment. Swimming through a sea of tactile sensations she slowly surfaced to find that instead of Angelus confining her with his solid, immovable shape, she was now clinging tenaciously to him, her hands wound into his shirt, her body leaning into his in a bid to remain upright.



As the awareness returned incrementally to Cordelia’s eyes, Angelus smirked down salaciously at the trembling girl whose unsatisfied state was only surpassed by his own throbbing ache. He could see the moment she began to process what had happened in this small room and its repercussions.



Any woman who can defy a vampire to his face certainly has a fiery temper. After their night together he had more than enough proof that Cordelia Chase was just such a woman. He had no doubt that the fireworks that were about to begin would be spectacular. His gleeful expectation showed on his face as he waited for the yelling, the indignant accusations, and the fervent disavowals of her libidinous actions.



Cordelia’s voice was deep and husky and she wondered at the effort it took to push the words through her lips. “Wow. That was almost worth dying for.”



Shock dropped Angelus’ jaw at the maiden before him making no maidenly denials. Of all the things he expected to make their way out of her delectable mouth, not one of those was this open acceptance of what happened between them and how it affected her.



The thought stirred his lascivious yearnings once again as he was faced with yet another facet of this intriguing girl’s personality. He was finding in her almost the perfect woman. She was virginal yet passionate, strong yet vulnerable, and her unrestrained response and honest reaction were more arousing than he had ever thought possible.



Although thoughts of the claiming tried to push their way to the forefront, begging to be considered before further actions were taken, Angelus thrust them aside as he reached to pull Cordelia back into his arms, public location be damned.



“Whoa, Mister Touchy-Feely, I said almost.”



“I may have enjoyed what just happened here a little...well, maybe a whole frickin’ lot, but I’m a ball of hormones. It could’ve been anyone with that amazing technique, it just happened to be you. But that doesn’t mean it can keep happening.”



“Besides, I have a boyfriend. You know - Xander? And sure, I’ve wanted to wipe all memory of his existence from my mind plenty of times, who hasn’t? But I can’t. I have a commitment to him. He may seem like a loser to you, well...actually to me, too - but he’s my loser so the kissing thing is reserved for him.”



Angelus’ game face was out in an instant as his dull roar echoed throughout the confined space. Who the Hell did she think she was? Hormones? Boyfriend?? She had to be kidding right???



Here he was thinking that Cordelia was finally acknowledging the bond, admitting his dominion over her, but no, she thought it was nothing but a case of being a randy teenager.



Doubt began to cloud his thoughts as he wondered. That couldn’t be true, right? What had just happened proved that the claim was affecting her. After all, he was only acting on instinctual feelings of lust that any beautiful woman would arouse in a vampire. But her, she was afraid of him. She had a virtual fit trying to wipe his first kiss from her skin. That had to mean something. It was more than just her hormones. It’s not as if teenagers just fell into his ar - shit!



In Angelus’ time as a vampire he had often found that the best targets were indeed teenage girls. Full of suppressed desires and unfulfilled needs they were painfully easy to whip into a frenzy of lust which almost always ended in their deaths. Why would Cordelia be any different? The fact that her first coherent thoughts were of the moron made it abundantly clear that she was in no way feeling his mastery of her.



Still, it enraged him that she would mention that half-wits name while his mark was even now pulsating on her neck. He wasn’t sure if the growls escaping him now were frustration at their unfinished business, anger at her continued denials of his ownership, or possessiveness of the girl herself. His best bet would be a mixture of all three.



Cordelia had no idea what was causing the grr face to make a reappearance or the rumbling to increase, but she was willing to bet it had something to do with Xander. If she had an inner demon Xander would certainly be the thing that triggered it. He definitely had no problems triggering her inner bitch.



As she observed the fury on Angelus’ face rapidly growing, Cordelia began to fear for her life. Hoping to put a damper on any thoughts of that sort she untangled her hands from his shirt and began to smooth out the wrinkles.



“You seem a little...upset. Not really understandable since you’ve recently been fed, and let’s face it, gropin’ me, not exactly a hardship. Still, in light of your anger issues I think I should point out that if you eat me you won’t have anyone to take to dinner.”



Thrusting a long finger towards himself, golden eyes met hazel as he darkly informed her of an apparently forgotten reality. “Vampire, sweetheart. I can eat you and still take you to dinner.”



Cordelia paled at the not so subtle reminder that being turned was always a possibility when in his company, but she repressed her fear, rallying to cast him a raised brow look.



“Maybe, but we wouldn’t make it to dinner tonight, would we?”



Angelus studied the brunette before him. He could smell her buried fear which was a direct contrast to her outward self-assurance. That contrast, like many things he’d found about her was exhilarating and his game face faded as laughter replaced his growls.



Grasping her wrist, Angelus began pulling her out of the dressing room. “Come on; let’s get this show on the road.”



And Cordelia, who was still trying to get used to seeing Angel’s face covered in happiness of any kind, could do nothing but follow.







Chapter Seven





As Angelus pulled Cordelia along behind him towards the exit, their progress was delayed by a fawning salesman. Eager to please an apparently frequent customer, he bowed immediately to Angelus’ demands that bill for Cordelia’s dress be sent to him.



The exchange between the men made Cordelia aware of just how much leather vampires actually wear. Curious about the phenomena she figured she’d never have a better chance to inquire than this. Well, she hoped to God she never had a better chance.



“So, what’s with all the leather? Is it a whole dead wearing the dead thing?”



Angelus hadn’t spent much time around the cheerleader now at his side, but he had a feeling that an endless supply of lifetimes would never be enough to grasp the workings of her mind.



“No, it’s more that when you’re going to be around for an eternity you want a wardrobe that’s fairly durable.”



“Well, that and leather pants make my ass look hot.”



Whoa boy, could Cordelia attest to that fact. Actually, if it hadn’t been for the coverage of his long, black duster, she’d be tempted to reconfirm that assessment right now.



Angelus didn’t even notice Cordelia’s surreptitious glances at his back side. Coming to a halt so abrupt that Cordelia ran headlong into his back, Angelus began to take note of the men on the street around them, running their filthy gazes over his property.



He may not have wanted to own Cordelia Chase, but that didn’t change the fact that she was his. For others to trespass, even visually, was a challenge he was hard pressed to ignore. In fact, if tonight was not of such great importance to his master plan, he would gladly rip the gawking eyes out of every man there, feasting on them, loudly, allowing them the full horror of their disrespect.



He slowly ran his eyes over each man, committing their faces to memory. Sunnydale was a small town and he was sure to run across these fools again when he had the time to make their deaths fittingly excruciating.



Until then he had to settle for a spine tingling growl that carried outward in all directions and the flash of his demonic face at those in question.



Sunnydale residents were almost purposefully unaware of the goings on in their little slice of Hell. Blissfully burying their heads in the sand they believed that what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them; a philosophy proven wrong time and time again.



Yet for all their denials, they still had the basic human instincts handed down from their cave dwelling ancestors. Like a hiker face with a mountain lion the men leering at Cordelia’s nearly nude form had the innate, primal understanding that they were facing a creature who could very well mean their death. And while the view would most likely be fodder for every masturbatory dream they ever had from this moment on, it was certainly not worth the death promised in the amber eyes and inhuman face scowling at them.



Cordelia, still trying to regain her footing on the high heels after such an unexpected stop was surprised by the noise emanating from the vampire in front of her.



Those thoughts were cleared from her mind momentarily and her world was suddenly made dark as heavy leather swirled around her. When the light returned she found herself tightly ensconced in Angelus’ duster.



Slightly confused by both his manner and the seemingly kind gesture, but grateful for the coverage the coat provided, she stared up into his face, still adorned with bony ridges and golden eyes.



“Thank you.” The words of gratitude were soft as Cordelia’s brow wrinkled in question. “What happened?”



As Angelus stared down into Cordelia’s concerned features he didn’t know how to explain to her that demons were not like humans. Humans are tied to civilities and conventions to dictate their behavior. They need some kind of traditional, external sign to know that a person was unavailable. A wedding ring was one of these symbols, clearly marking a person as “off limits” to others. Of course, even that minor protection was often violated.



With demons it was completely different. They were governed by instincts, not societal customs. They didn’t need visual cues to know what was acceptable and where boundaries lay.



Sure, he’d marked Cordelia in a highly visible place because he loved to see his brand on her every time he so much as glanced her way. The placing had been merely his preference and convenience. It certainly wasn’t necessary for the demon community at large. Angelus could have marked Cordelia anywhere - her full, thrusting breasts, her firm, gently curved stomach, the creamy interior of her thighs.



Starting to become aroused at the endless possibilities as he catalogued all of the places he could leave his mark on her delectable body, he dragged his thoughts back to the topic at hand.



The point was that the actual scarring wasn’t what warned off others of his kind. It was the scent. Every being carried their own scent, like DNA or a fingerprint.



When a vampire marked someone, he altered that scent to include his own. When the claim was made, the person became drenched in the new scent which was noticeable, even from a distance. Any demon who came across them would know, without question that they were definitely spoken for.



It wasn’t just a matter of respect that kept other demons from touching what wasn’t theirs; it was also the unpleasantness of being a creature of primal drives and having a pet that reeked of another.



The problem with humans is that they were too cultured and their sense to limited to appreciate a demon’s claim. A deficiency that often resulted in their deaths.



That was why Cordelia could wear such a costume tonight to the dinner they were attending. Because while to the humans it said, “Look at this.” To the demons it would say, “Look at this, it belongs to Angelus.”



Although these were absolutes in the demon world, driving truths about a society which Cordelia was now, albeit unwillingly, a part, he didn’t think that even she was ready for that kind of honesty tonight.



Angelus still needed her assistance, so it was probably better not to wind her up too much about demon culture before once more throwing her into it. Besides, she didn’t need to know.



Whether she was aware of it or not, she was covered in his essence. She’d never be able to walk into a room again without her very presence screaming to every demon there that she belonged to him. For now that was more than enough.



Seeing the concern still lingering on her face, he ran his fingers down the side and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. A wolfish smile crossed his face. “Only I get to look at you like this.”



Cordelia’s snort of disbelief at his reasoning was loud and indelicate.



“Yeah, you and every A’toreal demon on the Hellmouth.”



Angelus toyed again with the idea of explaining, but with time at a premium he simply resumed walking, pulling Cordelia reluctantly along.







Chapter Eight





The night was a disaster.



Sure, in terms of amassing power, tonight’s festivities had been successful beyond Angelus’ wildest dreams. But in terms of his personal life, tonight had been a humiliating bust.



It wasn’t Angelus’ his nature to brood about things, that was the domain of the soul. He tended to be more of an “if you don’t like it, change it” kind of demon. Living for pleasure, he tended not to let things get him down and if they did, well, as a vampire of action he formed a plan of attack and destroyed all obstacles.



And yet he was consumed of thoughts of Cordelia Chase and their stupid, apparently nonexistent bond. The longer the evening went, the more she shied away from his touch, the more obsessing he did on her chilly deportment.



He’d been cheered earlier by the passionate interlude in the dressing room. Finally believing that he could free himself from these ridiculous concerns, he was appalled to hear her explanation that it was nothing more than overactive teenage hormones on her part. Even worse was the immediate thought that her reasoning was far from unsound.



It wasn’t as if he really wanted the girl, it was the principal of the thing. He was by no means driven beyond control to have her. He was a vampire of some years, he could exercise a great deal of restraint when he so chose. His age and the power that came with it would allow him much more time before the bond was overwhelming.



No, this wasn’t the mystical side effects of the claim, propelling him now was an even greater imperative - his pride.



Yes, Cordelia was an extremely beautiful woman. Her classic features, dark, rich coloring, and long, lithe body could arouse a corpse - and did, he thought, smiling. Some of the feelings he was having could be laid at the door of her beauty and even her dynamic personality. But it was more than that.



While the claim was by no means overwhelming, he could still feel its pull, like an itch you just can’t reach. Not like a rash, but more the gentle distraction of someone running a feather over your skin as you slept. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but it left him vaguely unsatisfied. It wasn’t enough to be more than mildly annoying, but it was still something. It was still there.



But Cordelia, who should be much more susceptible to the claiming influence, seemed to be feeling no effects. The question was, “Why not?”



Actually, given his solution oriented nature, the question became, “What was he going to do about it?”



Being a demon was all about dominance and control. If he felt the draw of the bond to a greater extent than Cordelia then she became the dominant individual in their quasi-relationship. It went against his very nature to be submissive in any respect, especially to someone weaker than himself. His need for control in all things would not allow this state of affairs to continue, even if he were the only one to know of its existence.



The only way that he could see to rectify this power imbalance was to force the bond on the girl. Not a lot, naturally. Just enough to make her aware of the as yet unawakened need for him she now carried in her very blood.



Forced exposure to him would, theoretically have a greater impact on her than on him; although in light of recent events he might be willing to argue that theory. This should leave her ever so slightly dependent on him, and leave him relatively unchanged.



The bond would still be more than manageable because his new position assured that, after tonight, there’d be no reason for contact with the vexing girl.



Although the consequences would linger for Cordelia, the worst would probably be a small but definite dissatisfaction with the opposite sex. Of course, with her dating Harris she’d have to get used to disappointment. And if she ended up too dependant, well he could always drain her and leave her artfully arranged amid the stacks in the library - a present for the slayer and her watcher to defile their sacrosanct haven.



But he hadn’t lied to Cordelia when he told her he wasn’t ready to start killing off Buffy’s friends just yet. No, killing Cordelia would be a last resort. Once he could see concrete evidence of the bond from her then he could let this go and never have to worry about the gregarious cheerleader again. And not questioning why that thought made him ache, just a little, he knew one thing -



It was a plan.







Chapter Nine





The night was a disaster.



True, she’d made it through alive, and that was always a plus, but she was so confused by the evening’s events that she didn’t know which way was up and which was down.



It had started alright. In fact, she was surprised when they arrived and she was deprived of Angelus’ shielding coat how much calmer she’d felt than when the left the store earlier that night.



She might not be sexually experienced, but she wasn’t naive. Before Angelus had cloaked her near nudity with his duster she’d felt the heavy weight of male stares crawling over her.



Yet throughout the festivities, although she’d certainly been studied by curious demons, their clear gazes lacked the haze of lustful intent that had characterized those of the human’s.



Whether that was because they knew enough to fear Angelus’ wrath or because, as a human they found her unattractive was unclear. If it was the former, they were certainly wise to placate their new leader. If it was the latter, the non-attraction thing was completely mutual.



Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Of the 150 or so demons there, 149 were a complete turn off. But oh, that 150th demon - Good Lord!



Cordelia didn’t understand herself, she knew that Angelus was a vampire, a member of ClubDead, and therefore wasn’t just on the no-bone list, but was all of the top 100 entries.



Even with Angel who was of the good vampire variety, well, not a variety, more like just one, but even Angel fell off of her list of “guys to do” once she found out about the bloodsucking demon thing.



And yet here was his evil, soulless, leather wearing, inner bad ass and she was practically jumping out of her skin...and onto his.



And what the Hell was up with the constant touching? From the moment he removed her coat until the dinner was over his hands had been almost constantly on her. Sliding down the curve of her spine, toying with the silver chains as his fingers drew abstract patterns around her navel, grasping her hips in an unbreakable hold as he tugged her bottom securely into the cradle of his thighs, even now the memories threatened to drive her into an orgasmic frenzy.



She knew that he wanted to prove something to the assembled demons, but did he have to do it in a way that liquefied her legs and made information gathering for Giles nearly unthinkable?



Sure, she could totally get the gropage on his part, but what she didn’t understand was her response. When the touching first started she was angry and being who she was, she didn’t suffer silently for long.



“Get your undead hand off my ass!” She hissed during one of the all too brief moments they’d had to themselves.



Said hand contracted, inciting even greater rage from the scantily clad young woman, and it was all she could do to keep her voice to a whisper.



“Look, being your whore wasn’t part of the deal.”



Angelus bent down, his lips resting against the shell of her ear. The picture they presented of young lovers was clearly at odds with the chilling menace in his voice.



“The deal, Cordelia, is that you do whatever it is I require of you. Whether that’s letting me cop a feel of your oh so enticing ass, or letting me throw you down on the nearest table and fuck you until you can’t even whimper my name, you’ll be with me every step of the way.”



“Cause tonight, Cordelia, you don’t have anything I want except your compliance. So when I put my hands on you you’ll smile and shut the fuck up. Just remember, there’s a million and one things I can do to your body, and two thirds of them wont be nearly as pleasant as groping your ass.”



Wrapping his arms completely around her, he enclosed her in his hard embrace. Although his voice lost the undertones of peril to her life, they took on new undertones of peril to her virginity.



“Of course, the other third would ruin you for other men, if that’s what you want to call that imbecile you’re dating.”



His voice became liquid, swirling in her ears and cascading down her spine.



“And that last one would make you come so hard your bones would shatter.”



God, his words were enough to drive her past the brink of sanity with the images they conjured in her overloaded mind. But far more disturbing was the flood of arousal she felt as his hard length pressed into her rapidly heating center separated by two, far too inadequate stretches of leather.



Which brought her back to the question of why she responding to the monster holding her life hostage to his grab for power?



She knew that she was a healthy teenager with a natural interest in sex, but she’d never felt anything like this with Xander. Sure, he didn’t have centuries of experience pleasuring women of every sort, but what he lacked in prowess he made up for in not wanting to killing her in bloody and terrifying ways. You would think that would even things out.



Well, she was never one to cry over spilled milk. If you can’t go back then there’s only forward was her belief. So whatever was going on, whatever kind of freak she was turning into the more time she spent with the over-sexed vampire, there was only one solution and she was going to take it.



It didn’t matter what he did to her during his stupid power play, not how he spoke to her, not how he touched; she would give no evidence of the swirling mass of sexuality he unleashed in every cell of her body. No, her humiliation would be hers and hers alone. After all, once tonight was over they’d probably never see each other again until it was her turn to be killed for the great Buffy obsession.



So from now on, every touch avoided, every undertone ignored. And, not questioning why that idea left her feeling slightly hollow, she knew one thing -



It was a plan.







Chapter Ten





As Angelus walked Cordelia home the tension settled thick around them.



Both concentrating on their chosen course of action, Cordelia was constantly drifting to the side to avoid any unnecessary contact, while Angelus’ was fast losing his patience watching her move continuously away instead of towards his touches.



Shit this was frustrating, Angelus thought in aggravation. Obviously Cordelia was defective.



Since before recorded history vampires had been bending humans to their will. How could it not work on this one slip of a girl? Her next words were hardly a balm to his irritated mind.



“Now that you’re the head honcho around here you’ll probably be finding yourself a dead first lady, so this is gonna be our last little get together, right?”



His jaw clenched painfully at what he was hearing. Now she was telling him that she didn’t want to see him anymore. That he should find someone else and stop bothering her. He could feel his fangs slipping down as he tried to hold onto his human visage.



Risking a glance to the side, Cordelia was surprised to see the flicker of his true face before he regained control. Not knowing what caused the vampire’s new show of temper and realizing it was still not out of arms reach for the demon, she stepped quickly to the side and away from her companion.



The low sound of discontent that had been building in Angelus’ chest found voice as a muted bellow of rage. Moving faster than her eyes could see, Cordelia found her wrist grabbed in a punishing grip as she was yanked back towards the seething figure who resumed walking, hoping the exertion would release at least a small portion of his ever growing fury.



Did she not grasp the danger she was in? Had tonight not shown her that he would do as he wished and it was her job to submit?



Hoping to return things to a state where she feared death at his hands, but not her imminent death, she tried to lighten the dark mood.



“Well, I’d thank you for the new dress, but since it was really humiliating I think I’ll pass. Besides, not highly rewearable.



Cordelia, whose wrist was still being gripped tightly in Angelus’ hand, was forced to stop as the vampire stilled.



Like gasoline to a fire, Angelus felt himself blazing out of control at the mere thought her words brought to mind. The growl was back in his voice as it rasped through his throat.



“Too true. You will never wear this dress for anyone but me.”



Cordelia, oblivious to the inherent possessiveness in that statement was blithe in her reply.



“Duh. Who else would I wear it around? None of the other people I know are kinky pervs, and I’m certainly not wearing it to school, ‘cause that would go over well - Showing up dressed like a slut in case there are one or two people left who don’t think I put out.”



The timely reminder of her innocence calmed Angelus and he turned once again towards the Chase home. He took in the sight Cordelia made as she walked along side of him, her face and hands the only parts of her visible as the leather of his coat swallowed her.



“You don’t sleep around. You haven’t slept with anyone.”



Startled by the certainty in his tone, Cordelia couldn’t help asking, “True, but how would you know? Even if that were the type of thing I’d share with people, I’d hardly have shared it with Angel. Besides, I know he would’ve just believed whatever Buffy did, and I’m pretty sure that wasn’t complementary.”



Angelus’ pleasure at Cordelia’s words help drain the earlier tension from his body. He was glad that she saw Angel as a separate entity. While Angel may have had the demon, Angelus certainly didn’t have the soul. The slayer couldn’t seem to grasp that fact, and though it made hurting her that much easier, he hated to be mistaken for the blubbering mass of guilt that was the soul.



“I know you’re pure. I could taste it in your blood.”



You could taste my virginity?! Ewwwwwwwww!”



Cordelia scrunched up her face in disgust at the thought. Then, her natural curiosity overcame her distaste and the questions spilled forth.



“What else could you taste? Can you tell my blood type? Do you know what I had for lunch? Ooh, can you see my future??”



Angelus had to wonder at the fact that Cordelia worked with a vampire slayer and yet seemed to no next to nothing about vampires. And yet, listening to her inane questions he couldn’t help feeling as if her were caught in the midst of a whirlwind, and in many ways it was exhilarating.



If there was one thing Angelus loved, it was surprises. Even bad ones kept him on his toes. A fact not often appreciated by humans, but when eternity looms ahead of you, you tend to bore quickly.



That’s often why vampires grew more vicious with age. The more you’ve done, the more you have to do to get the same feelings. Over time they learn to forgo the immediate kill and in favor of new and ever escalating torments.



Even before the soul his existence had become stagnant, routine. Spending time with this unpredictable girl had certainly alleviated much of that boredom.



Angelus smiled slightly at her naiveté. “Yes, there is a difference discernable between blood types. No, I have no idea what you had for lunch. And other than the fact that I plan on killing you before long, I have no idea about your future. I can tell other things, though.”



“Even without seeing you I’d know you were female. I’d be able to guess your age within a year or two. I can tell that you’re healthy and disease free. But that’s the instinctual part of vampirism, not the enjoyable part.”



Moving his body closer to hers, their shoulders now brushed as they walked.



“No, what’s truly wonderful about your blood isn’t the trivia it contains, but the potential.”



“Human blood is rich and layered, depending heavily on the emotions evoked at the time of imbibing. Unlike pig’s blood,” he practically spat the words, “the taste of human blood can be altered to a great degree.”



“When I tasted your blood the first time, I tasted all of those small, inconsequential facts. I also tasted your robust health and your innocent state. But mostly I tasted your fear. Oh, you hid it admirably on the outside, but the blood doesn’t lie. The adrenalin released in response to the fight or flight instinct is like caffeine for a vampire. It’s a rush, a high, it’s addictive, and the more fear I create in you the better you’ll taste.”



“It’s almost the ultimate delicacy. Almost.”



“As much as I savored your blood that first night, it held no candle to the way you tasted tonight. The only thing greater than fear laced blood is blood pulsing with burgeoning arousal.”



“As your body heats up in the throws of passion your blood thickens, slowing to pool in erogenous places. As your desires clog your arteries with the succulent mixture of pleasure and anticipation, the flavor deepens. At the moment of the “little death” when fantasy finally merges with reality, mere blood is transformed into ambrosia as it’s released from it’s physical constraints to nourish the one feasting upon it.”



It was fortuitous that the were walking in such close proximity as Angelus’ words invoked a pounding heat in Cordelia’s loins that was so distracting that she managed to trip on an uneven portion of the sidewalk. While normally the stumble would not be cause for alarm, teetering precariously on the heels of her new boots, she was less than her usual, stable self.



Grateful, for once, for the speed of his demonic reflexes, Cordelia almost sighed in relief to find herself caught mere inches from the ground.



As he stood her up, Angelus smirked at seeing her reaction to his words. Surely this proved that the girl was not immune to their bond. However, any thoughts of victory were cut short when, on returning her to an upright position, she promptly scrambled out of his arms.



Bad mood back in place he quickened his pace, Cordelia trailing in his wake.







Chapter Eleven





As they arrived at the door to the Chase home, Angelus once again noticed the lack of occupants. Although it was certainly to his benefit, he had to wonder at parents that would leave their offspring unattended in a town like Sunnydale.



As Angelus was occupied with those thoughts, Cordelia removed his duster. Looking down as her tiny ensemble once again came into view; a lopsided smile tilted her mouth.



“Well, I guess I could always wear this for my turns as bait girl.”



Without warning, she was once again pinned to a wall, hands held forcibly overhead, trapped by his immovable bulk. Obviously psycho vamp had gone from “code red” to “code homicidal rampage” quicker than her car went from 0 to 60.



Game face firmly back in place, all thoughts of limiting their bond were wiped from Angelus’ mind. Instead, all he could focus on were thoughts of her lying in some graveyard inured or dying.



It wasn’t the idea of her being hurt that bothered him; rather it was the idea of her being hurt by someone other than him that was now driving him wild. The very thought that anyone would dare to trespass on what was his, to damage what was his alone to mar, ripped at the very core of his demonic being.



Snarling down at her through tightly clenched fangs, he made his intentions in this matter perfectly clear.



“That’s over.”



Unfortunately, they only seemed clear to him.



“What?” asked Cordelia, slightly dazed.



Shaking her slightly Angelus reiterated, “Being bait girl. That ends now. You will not be doing that anymore.”



His expression became more thoughtful than enraged as his faced lost all trace of the demon and he assumed that, having clarified, Cordelia would comply. Slowly the bruising hands loosened and began to caress the upraised arms unnoticed by both.



Looking at her fresh mark on her neck and knowing that it clearly distinguished her as the property of the Master of both the Aurelius Order and the Hellmouth, Angelus mused aloud, “Frankly, I’m not sure it would work anymore. But then there’s always that one demon with no respect for tradition or someone new who doesn’t understand the players or the rules. No, you definitely won’t be wandering around anymore cemeteries asking for God knows what to attack you.”



Cordelia gaped at the order and the matter of fact manner in which it had been delivered. He spoke as if everything had been decided, as if she were not Cordelia Chase, master of her own fate, captain of her own ship, and all that other crap.



Suddenly noticing his caress she quickly brought her arms down and wrapped them around her waist.



“Just who do you think you are?” Cordelia snapped at him. “Being bait is my job; my contribution to the team effort. It may not be much in the glamorous world of slayage, but it’s what I can do and you can’t make me stop!”



Angelus’ hands returned to her arms as his body leaned even further into hers. With threat etched into every line of his face he questioned her resolve. “Do you want to bet your life on that?”



A look of confusion crossed Cordelia’s face and registered clearly in her voice.



“I don’t get it? Why do you even care?”



“Sure, we’ve been thrown together by this whole stupid necklace thing, but we both know that aside from that, you couldn’t care less about me. So what if something kills me before you get a chance to? It’d probably save you some time in my opinion.”



Why did she have to keep putting that picture in his head - Other hands making her bleed, other ears hearing her screams, other eyes swimming with the glorious vision that would be Cordelia, writhing in agony. Couldn’t she see this was hardly supporting her case?



By now the furious vampire was so still he seemed to be wrought from granite, his words made all the more sinister by the hush surrounding him.



“Listen, little girl, you are mine. Mine to play with, mine to torture, mine to kill. My mark decrees it and you’ve all but admitted it to the demon community. Do you think I would let someone else damage my “asset”?”



“Don’t worry, when the time’s right I’ll get around to killing you. But your death will be at a time of my choosing, no one else’s.”



Well, at least now the possessiveness made sense to Cordelia. To her mind it wasn’t motivated by herself, per se, but more by the fact that his reputation was, in a weird way, tied to her. She could understand that, but he needed to know that he couldn’t dictate her life.



“Look, I guess I can sort of see how that might be bad for your reputation. On the other hand, if something got me you could go all vampy on their ass and everyone would know not to mess with you.”



Cordelia seemed so excited by the prospect that Angelus wondered if she had lost sight that she was speaking of her death. While he pondered that, Cordelia continued her ill-advised tirade.



“Not that I’m planning to let anything happen, mind you. That’s what the slayer’s for, you know. But I suppose accidents hap-



Commanding Cordelia’s attention by grabbing her wildly gesturing hands and returning them to their previous position above her head, he managed to halt the flow of words that were beginning to push him past the limits of reason. While he would never admit that explaining this to her was beyond him, maybe it was time to let cooler heads prevail.



“Cordelia, I think it’s time you tell Rupert what’s been going on. Everything that’s been going on.”



Cordelia remembered just how much had been going on - kissing, touching, groping. Things she’d never even want to associate with Giles even in her head, much less discuss with him.



“Well,” she hedged, “maybe not everything.”



“Everything, Cordelia. And if you leave anything out, soften the truth, preserve some misplaced pride, I’ll know. Don’t push me in this.”



Cordelia’s eyes widened suddenly as a thought struck her.



“Good God, is this about getting to Buffy? Geez, why can’t you just stalk her directly like a normal vamp?”



“You know, the other vampires I’ve met on the Hellmouth, they just want to kill you. They don’t need your name, address, and a list of your nearest and dearest.”



Refusing to be distracted by Cordelia’s bizarre conversational turns, Angelus instead threw her a predatory smile, an unholy fire lighting his eyes as the hands holding hers contracted, almost crushing her wrists and pulling a whimper of pain from the ensnared girl.



“Cordelia, tomorrow, the watcher, everything.”



The hostility suddenly leached out of his tone and it was as if her were merely passing the time with a pleasant chat.



“If you don’t talk to him Cordelia, then I’ll have to. I wonder if he’ll survive that.”



With that he pushed her towards her door. In the porch light she examined her wrists, knowing they’d have massive bruises the next day.



“Geez,” she said, almost to herself, rubbing her injuries. “You don’t have to break me.”



Halting her just as she was about to enter her home, he gently tilted her face up to meet his gaze.



“No, I don’t have to break you, Cordelia. But it certainly would be fun.”



And as Angelus turned to make his way back towards the mansion, he was surprised how good he felt about including the watcher in this private party. While normally he would resent the Giles’ interference in his business, because, absolutely, Giles would interfere, he instead found himself arrogantly content in the knowledge that Rupert would know that the girl was his. For Giles, far more than most, would know what his claim meant.



Deeper than that, though, was the dark pleasure of forcing Cordelia to recount every word, every kiss, every touch that passed between them. Making her relive each experience again to a man that she admired and respected was almost as gratifying as knowing that with every word she uttered she would be asserting his claim over her.



His plans of limiting his exposure to Cordelia were slowly being forced from his mind as the lure of tomorrow’s delectations seeped in.



Cordelia, however, was not fairing quite as well as she made up to her room with slow measured steps.



She didn’t for one minute doubt that Angelus would follow through on his threats against Giles if she didn’t bow to his ultimatum. Cordelia Chase did not like being dictated to, her natural reaction being defiance. But with the soft spoken librarian’s life on the line, she knew she would comply.



Funny, even though he was an expert on all things that go bump in the night, she had always associated Giles with a safety of sorts. For the first time she felt a tremor of fear race through her at the thought of seeing him tomorrow. Not a fear of his reaction, but a fear of what he might reveal.





tbc in Part 3 - A Watcher's Work is Never Done