Breaking a Slayer

Chapter 46

Warning: Character Death

Angel woke hungry and smelled blood. His own was dried on his hands and in a dark brown smear on the floor where he'd drawn the pentacle. He smelled the unmistakable scent of his Childe's blood, as well. Spike was sweetness and power wrapped into one and he smelled like family, somehow like home.

But Buffy, Buffy's blood was more. More power, more ripeness--like liquid light--Buffy's blood called to him. Angel wanted more, more than he'd had after the ritual, more than he'd taken when he'd marked her as his mate years before.

He rolled to his knees and crouched over his mate like a dangerous cat and began lapping at the dried blood on his Mark. Buffy moaned at the intrusive sucking and turned her head sleepily to give him better access. Angel knelt above her and sucked hard at his Mark again, lust flaring through him at the indescribable taste of her.

He reached still-healing hands to Buffy's shirt and ripped it from her in one sharp motion. Buffy opened her eyes and gasped at the sight of her mate crouching over her, amber flaring in his eyes and fangs dropping to feast on her. Though startled, she wasn't afraid. The bond between them flared and she felt his deep and utter need of her. She stretched her neck and raised her face to meet his mouth. They kissed passionately, eating at each other's mouths with hunger and desire.

Angel's possessive hands roamed across Buffy's torso, ripping her smoke stained jeans and panties from her with urgency. He broke their kiss and bent his head to suck at one pink nipple and Buffy groaned with passion, overcome by the waves of arousal that tingled through her from his cold mouth on her hot flesh.

Angel growled against her breast and moved a big hand to the other one, pulling at the sensitive flesh and twisting her nipple in his fingers until she cried out, unsure whether she wanted him to stop or continue.

Angel moved his head down Buffy's body, biting and kissing as he went until he reached her sex. He placed a kiss upon the downy curls there before grasping Buffy's legs in urgent hands and wrenching them open. She moaned in desire and then shrieked as he bent his head to lap at her nether lips. He sucked on them one at a time, nibbling and licking at the entrance to her body until he smelled the honey dripping from her.

Spreading her open like a flower, Angel leaned forward and lapped at Buffy's wet slit, licking in long soft strokes from the entrance to her cunt up to her clit and then back again. Buffy yelled her passion and rocked her hips up to meet him. Angel teased her unmercifully until she begged incoherently.

"God…Angel…please!"

"Please what, Lover?" he growled against her sopping wet sex, never ceasing his sucking or licking.

"Please suck me, please eat me, please let me come…" she moaned, desperate for release from this tender torture.

Angel responded by growling harder against her tender skin, then redoubling his efforts, lapping and sucking at her but never quite allowing her the release that she sought so desperately.

Buffy grabbed his head and ground her cunt against his mouth, panting and pleading, "Please, Angel, please…please."

Angel laughed against her and stopped to rip his pants from him. He was still clad in the filthy shirt he'd been wearing through the fire and he tossed it from himself with disdain. Pressing his cock against Buffy's fiery wet entrance, Angel started to ease himself into her with painstaking slowness.

Suddenly he was tackled from the side. Rolling on top of him was Spike…a thoroughly pissed off Spike.

"What the bloody fuck do you think you're doing now, Sire? Tryin' to get us all killed are you?" Spike roared in anger.

Angel grabbed his childe by the shoulders and growled at him, "She's my mate, MINE, Childe. Don't forget it. I'll take her when I want, and you won't stop me again."

As he lifted one huge hand to bat his childe away, Spike replied, "Your bloody soul isn't fixed yet, you stupid git! You've got two more bloomin' rituals to go first. Are you so fucking desperate to lose your soul again? Or can you just not resist the chance to get into the Slayer's pants?" he sneered.

Buffy, who'd been taken by complete surprise at Spike's unexpected attack, pulled back suddenly, her arousal subsiding as she heard his words. "It's not finished?" she asked. "What do you mean? He did the ritual, Spike!"

"Only part of it, Buffy. Sorry luv, but tis true, ask him yourself," Spike growled, aroused himself by the naked forms of his sire and mate.

Buffy turned inquiringly toward Angel and he nodded reluctantly, barely in control of his emotions. They were more volatile than ever, Angel realized, and getting harder to control with each iteration of the spell. "Damn, Buffy, I'm sorry. I should have thought. But the smell of your blood, and my need for you just overwhelmed me."

Buffy smiled sadly at him. "Well, my need was just as strong, Angel. Thank god for Spike. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you now, after you’ve gone through so much already. Speaking of which, what the hell is going on here, anyway? You didn't call, I thought everything was fine until I tried to call you and couldn't get through. What happened to your apartment?" she asked worriedly.

"We were attacked," Angel said, straightening up and gazing at her with concerned eyes. "You shouldn't be here, Buffy, you're putting yourself in danger."

Buffy laughed mirthlessly. "I'm in danger wherever I go, Angel. It's one of the many perks of being the Slayer, along with short life expectancy, bad hours, and pointy sticks."

Spike growled at both of them, "I don't bloody care who attacked us right now. I want a bath." He wiped uselessly at the grime and gore covering him. His hands were healed under all the blood, but they were so filthy it was hard to tell. "Where the fuck are we anyway?" Spike asked.

"I brought you to my father's condo. He's away in Spain or something," Buffy replied. "C'mon, he just had the bathroom redone again for his new girlfriend, cough, whore." She led them down a narrow hall to a door at the end. Pushing it open with her foot, Buffy gazed around in amazement.

Her father had redone the entire room in marble. Black veined marble shower surround, white veined marble floor, even the walls were marble. It was gorgeous, but the sight filled Buffy with anger. Her beautiful mother was dead, she'd been scrounging for money to make ends meet and yet her father could afford to completely redo his bathroom just to impress the new, barely legal-age slut whom he'd taken up with.

"Well, hell," Spike said, "this is more like it." He shucked his clothes off with a grin and leapt into the sr, tr, twisting knobs until a cascade of heated water poured from the multi-fauceted contraption. "Cor, Peaches, you gotta put one of these into the mansion. This is bloody fantastic," he exclaimed, shaking and turning under the water like a wet puppy.

Angel laughed at his childe's antics, broken from his gloom by the outrageous nature of Spike's bathing. He had covered himself with foam from one of the many bottles of bathing gel and was scrubbing it into his white flesh with exaggerated pleasure. Angel watched as Buffy walked in to join Spike, ducking her head under the water and wetting her golden-brown curls with relish. They began soaping each other, giggling and laughing as they washed the filthy ash and smoke from each other's bodies.

Watching their play, Angel couldn't help but feel his arousal growing again. They were both so perfect…so utterly delicious, and they didn't even realize it. He wanted them both. Wanted to tear into that flesh, both white and tan, bite, claw and rip at it until their blood flowed and he could drink it…bathe in it…roll in it as he fucked them into the floor. Angel growled and strode into the enclosure, grabbing Spike and pulling him into a brutal kiss.

Spike was startled at first, but willing, as always, when passion flared. He kissed Angel back with every bit of the ferocity that his sire had used, fangs dropping and ripping at Angel's lips just as Angel's fangs drew blood from Spike. They moaned simultaneously, hands grasping for each other in a rage of feeling.

Buffy didn't know what to think as she watched them together. They were so harsh in their passion for each other. Each caress Angel bestowed upon Spike seemed rougher than the next. Buffy gasped in surprise as Angel pushed Spike against the wall and thrust into him with no warning. It looked painful and violent and…gods, was she getting turned on by this?

Spike shuddered as Angel plowed into his ass, shaking under the onslaught of his sire's passionate fucking. His own cock throbbed with need and arousal as Spike braced himself against the wall with both hands to buck backward into Angel's every brutal thrust.

This was how Angelus had taken him, with no care for his childe's pleasure, only his own. Then Angel reached one huge hand around and grabbed Spike's cock and he remembered that this wasn't his sire, exactly. Angel pumped in time to his thrusts, gentling them just enough to entice Spike backwards into his arms. He caressed Spike with one hand while pumping him with the other, teasing at his nipple with talented fingers and sucking gently at his neck until Spike felt himself spiraling into orgasm. At that last second before coming, Angel sank fangs into him and Spike spasmed in his hand, spilling his cold seed into the wall of the shower where the water rapidly swirled it away down the drain.

Angel came with growls and grunts, releasing Spike's cock to grab his hips and grind himself into Spike's ass. At last he was spent and pulled back from his chide with reluctance. It was only then that he realized Buffy had seen the entire thing. *God, what must she be thinking,* he thought as he turned to face her with chagrin.

Buffy was trailing one tanned hand over her breasts, twisting and pulling on the nipples while she rubbed at her clit with the other hand. Watching her two lovers so wrapped up in each other had been mind-blowingly erotic and she was still frustrated from Angel's earlier teasing.

Spike looked up and was on her in a flash, moving her hand aside to grab her rounded breasts with his hands instead, as he kissed her deeply. Angel followed suit instantly, kneeling before her to feast once more on her sex, this time, without the teasing. He plundered her cunt with his tongue, thrusting it into her the way he longed to do with his cock.

Buffy wavered, nearly falling, as her lovers ravished her body. Spike moved quickly behind her, balancing his sire's aggressively carnal attack with his own assault on Buffy from behind. He slid his hands around to cup her breasts, stroking and twisting until she moaned in pleasured pain.

Angel pushed her legs further apart and delved even deeper into her honeyed cunt, feasting on his mate with abandon. Buffy bucked into his cold mouth as the warm water cascaded over her body, coming in waves so intense that Spike had to hold her up as her legs lost all strength. Angel continued sipping and lapping at her cunt until the tremors finally subsided. Only then did he move up her body to lean over and kiss her hungrily.

Tasting herself on her mate's tongue was unexpectedly arousing to Buffy and she grabbed Angel's neck, pulling him closer to her and kissing him savagely. He slid to game face at the violence in her kiss and groaned when she pulled away.

"I'm sorry, Buffy, I can't…" he growled, trying desperately to slide back into his human mask, but too out of control to manage it.

"Shut up and bite, damnit," she ordered huskily, turning her head and offering herself unabashedly to him.

Angel paused for a moment, meeting Spike's eyes over Buffy's shoulder. The younger vampire was fighting game face as well, his glorious blue eyes flickering with amber.

"You, too, Spike! Now, do it now, please!" Buffy begged, craving the inexpressible pleasure of the links with her mates and knowing that they needed the power of her blood to heal the remainder of the harm done them by the fire.

They surged against her, Angel moving purposefully so that his again hard cock could not find its way into her enticing cunt. Instead he rubbed himself against her leg as he licked the Mark on her neck that proclaimed his possession to all the demon world.

Buffy moaned in anguished lust as Spike kissed the other side of her neck, scraping fangs against the skin there in delicious circles around the smaller Markt het he'd placed there. He ground his cock against Buffy's delectable ass and she moaned again, grinding herself back into him.

Hearing her, Angel knew what Spike must be doing. He lifted Buffy easily in his huge hands and brought her slowly down, her legs twining around Spike's and her cunt wide open to his hard cock.

Spike groaned at the heat enveloping his cold shaft and began thrusting upwards into his lover as Angel pushed her down onto him. The three of them rocked together in a frenzy of abandoned lust, Buffy's panting moans mixing with the rough growling of her mates. Angel moved slightly, grinding his cock against her exposed clit and Buffy felt herself begin to fall over the edge into bliss.

At that moment, both vampires sank fangs into her neck and the pain froze her on the edge for long moments before it was followed by the ecstatic bliss that only they could give her.

Angel sucked at his mate's neck as he came…her powerful, magic-infused blood searing through him like a healing flame.

Spike was similarly transported, his mouth working at Buffy's neck while he spilled himself inside her. The doubled burning of her blood and cunt nearly incapacitated him with mindless pleasure.

At last the spiral dance of bliss slowed to a pleasant throb and the vampires drew away from their mate, afraid that they'd taken too much from her. Buffy simply smiled at them, glowing with satisfaction and pleasure.

Spike withdrew from her heated folds reluctantly, kissing her neck again and again as he did so. She was bloody amazing, he thought, gazing with love on the tiny, but deadly beauty before him. Taking up a loofah and some lavender scented soap, Spike slowly washed Buffy's back, sliding the sponge gently over her tanned skin. This…this must be happiness, he thought, introspectively. This feeling of complete and utter possession and possessing, this trust that flowed like water between the three of them, binding them into a powerful and loving triad.

Angel kissed Buffy again and again, gentle now that his passion had waned. She was so beautiful, so small yet powerful. He was constantly amazed that she was able to fight so well in such a compact package. He smiled into her eyes as he bent his head and kissed down her collarbone to suckle at her nipple.

Buffy moaned, little explosions of afterglow pinging through her clit at Angel's gentle teasing. Sighing, she pushed him away, just enough to reclaim his mouth with her own for a long, languorous kiss. Angel turned her around so that Spike could kiss her as well, and his childe did, pressing soft, sensual kisses to Buffy's warm mouth.

She took the soap from him and began trailing it over his hard body, reveling in the chance to touch him all over. Buffy stepped around behind him to grab for the shampoo and pour some into her palm. She scrubbed at his peroxide white hair and Spike sighed in pleasure as she caressed his head. At his sigh, Angel leaned forward to kiss him, exploring his mouth gently as he stroked large hands over Spike's body to rinse the soap from him.

Spike had never felt so entwined with other beings as he did in that moment with Angel before him and Buffy behind, both caressing him and murmuring their love in soft voices. He basked in the warmth of Buffy behind him and the cool strength of his sire in front of him, loving every moment and never wanting the feeling to end. Angel reached one finger under Spike's chin to tip his head back and Spike closed his eyes as the water washed through his hair, rinsing away the grime of the fire.

"My turn," he growled at Angel and grabbed the soap to pay Angel back in kind. Spike and Buffy pounced on the larger vampire and drew him, laughing, into the full stream of the water. Buffy washed his hair, standing on tip-toe and pulling gently at it with tiny fingers until he sighed with pleasure. Spike attacked the dirt and soot still clinging to his sire's massive frame with a loofah and more soap until Angel's alabaster skin glowed. Finally they rinsed him, turning him this way and that and laughing at his expression when the water poured right into his eyes.

Sputtering and laughing himself, Angel pulled Buffy into the cascade and began soaping her short curls. They were getting longer, he noticed, framing her face in becoming waves as the weight pulled thel oul out. At last they were done and reluctantly turned the water off.

Spike ventured from the shower first and returned with sumptuous Egyptian cotton towels. Throwing one at Angel, he turned to Buffy and enveloped her in the soft folds of the cotton. She sighed with pleasure at the feeling and rubbed against him in contentment. Spike pressed a kiss to her mouth before grabbing a towel for himself and scrubbing at his hair with it. He dried the rest of his body off and looked up at the laughter of his lovers.

"Whut?" he asked, then reached up to his hair as he realized what they must be laughing at. "Bugger off," he swore at them, chagrined that his hair had tightened back into the unruly curls that he tried so hard to tame with gel.

"Shush, Spike, it's cute," Buffy giggled, reaching up to fluff the curls even higher as she laughed at Spike's indignant expression.

"She's right, Childe. It suits you," Angel added, tousling Spike's head with an affectionate hand.

Buffy looked with happiness on her two mates. They were healed, strong and ready to face whatever was thrown at them next. She had a feeling it wasn't going to be fun. But together they could face anything, she was confident.

*

She wasn't so sure once she stood by the side of the hospital bed and gazed at an unconscious and battered Wesley. His heart monitor was beeping regularly. Angel stood beside his bed, watching him before turning and walking from the room. "Thank you, Childe, for saving him from the fire," he said to Spike, waiting silently outside the door.

Spike nodded his acceptance of the thanks, grim at the condition of the former Watcher. He knew that once Angel saw his other employee, his sire would be livid. They walked into another wing and to Cordelia's bed. She was sedated, so she was no longer convulsing, as she had been when Spike had last seen her, but from the darting of her eyes, she still had permanent visions.

Angel took hold of her left hand and leaned on the bed. "Cordelia, I'm gonna fix this. Promise. I'm gonna get you back. We need you back." He looked down as he let go of her hand and noticed a black symbol on the back of it.

The three left the hospital much subdued. "I have to go see the Oracles," he said to Spike as they drove away. I want you to stay with Buffy and keep her safe until I return."

"Bugger that," Spike spat angrily. "I want a piece of them, too, Sire."

"I'm not some child who you can leave behind, Angel," Buffy said, in agreement with Spike. "We all go together, or we don't go at all."

Angel nodded reluctantly and drove them to the old post office. He pulled a piece of parchment from his duster pocked, grateful that it hadn't burned up in the fire. He'd never have been able to get to the Oracles without it.

He recited the spell to get to the Oracles, changing the words slightly to accommodate his childe and mate. "We come before the Oracles for guidance and direction. We beseech access to the knowing ones."

The doorway opened with a blinding flash of light. The three of them stumbled into the chamber of the Oracles, blinking and stopping with shock at the sight of the Oracles lying on the floor, dead, with a bloody scythe still buried in the woman's body.

"This isn't what they usually look like, is it?" Buffy asked in worry.

A ghostly image of the woman appeared beside her.

"It's unfortunate," the blue woman said. "Things are unraveling. The dark ones broach our temples now."

"Can you help us?" Angel asked desperately.

"I can't stay long. I've been dead a while," she replied. "So far I don't like it."

Angel added urgently, "My friend who gets the visions..."

The woman nodded. "Is in trouble. It's his mark, the one who did this."

"Who? Who did this?" Buffy asked.

"Voca. A warrior of the underworld. He wants you weak. So he opened her mind to all the ones who out out in pain and need. She doesn't have long either," the Oracle added.

"Bloody hell," Spike interjected. "How can we stop it?"

"The sacred scroll of Aberjian is now in Voca's possession. The scroll is what you need," The Oracle responded, fading as she spoke.

"Wait," Buffy begged.

"Find the scroll," the Oracle murmured. "wordwords of Anatole, only they can remove the mark and save your friend."

"Tell us where to find him. We'll repay him for what he did here," Angel added.

"He is here for the raising," she said.

Spike kicked at a broken pedestal with a foot. "The raising?"

The Oracle nodded, "Like so many of them he hides behind man's law. Stop him." She faded away before their eyes.

"We will," Angel swore, grabbing the scythe as they left.

*

"I don't want to hear your arguments again, Spike. I need you here, *we* need you here," Angel insisted as they stood outside the hospital where Cordelia and Wesley lay.

"Why can't Buffy stay here and guard them?" Spike whined, wanting more than anything to be at his sire's side in this struggle.

"I need her with me," Angel said, again. "I don't know what spells they'll have to guard against vampires, but chances are good that if I can't get through them, then you couldn't either. Buffy can."

Spike reluctantly accepted the argument and he pulled Angel to him in a fierce embrace. "Don't bloody die, you great poof," he whispered hoarsely. "I swear I'll find your ashes and piss on 'em if you do."

Angel kissed his childe slowly and passionately. "I'm not going anywhere, Spike," he growled. "Not with you to come back to, my Most Favored Childe. Now guard my people," he ordered, kissing Spike again before turning abruptly to climb into his car.

Buffy hugged Spike to her with desperate strength. "I'll take care of him, I promise, Spike," she said as he bent his head to kiss her thoroughly.

"Take care of yourself, first, Pet," Spike ordered. "Peaches can watch out for himself," he growled, trying to hide the fear that raged within him at the thought of them fighting without him. He turned and paced back into the hospital, trying not to feel left behind and failing miserably.

*

Five vampires were chained to a box sitting in the middle of a pentacle laid into the floor inside a poorly lit crypt. Two monks entered, chanting, followed by Voca. "We have prepared a holy place in the darkness and anointed it with oil. We have taken of the blood of the living and gathered together the living dead."

Voca chanted, "As it was written they shall prepare the way and the very gate of hell shall open. That which is above shall tremble (the earth trembled) for that which is below shall arise. And the world shall know the beast -- and the beast shall know the world."

*

A group of people was walking down the steps in front of Wolfram and Hart.

Lilah asked, "Aren't we going to be late?"

Holland responded lightly, "You never want to be on time for a ritual, the chanting, the blood rites, they go on forever."

Angel and Buffy gazed at them from behind a pillar as Lindsey motioned to two guys standing in front of a moving van.

"You guys follow us," he said.

Holland turned to Lindsey. "I know you covered all the bases here."

"Yes, sir," Lindsey replied.

Holland continued, "Senior partners are keeping a close watch on us. We don't wanna let them down."

Lindsey gulped, then stated, "We won't."

Holland got into the limo. Lilah turned to Lindsey before getting in herself. "Remember when Robert Price let the senior partners down and they made him eat his liver? -- I don't know what made me think of that."

After a moment Lindsey followed the other two into the back of thmo. mo. Angel and Buffy watched them drive off, followed by the movers, then climbed into his car and trailed them.

*

Voca walked slowly from one point of the pentacle to the next, chanting the ritual as the monks responded. "Five are without breath."

Monks: "Yet they live."

Voca: "Five are without time."

Monks: "Yet they live."

The party from Wolfram and Hart enters the crypt.

Voca: "Five are without soul."

Monks: "Yet they live."

Holland was annoyed, "They haven't even gotten to the Latin yet."

Voca: "Five are without sun."

Monks: "Yet they live."

Voca looked up, then laid the scroll down on top of the crate and walked to face the steps leading down into the crypt.

Lilah was confused, "What is it?"

"I don't know," Holland responded.

Voca produced another scythe. A moment later Angel burst through the door at the top of the stairs and the two of them began battling with the scythes.

Holland turned to Lindsey, "Lindsey?"

Lindsey watched the fight between Voca and Angel for a moment then stepped forward and picked up the scroll. "Five are dead." The monks didn't respond. "Say it!" he ordered.

Monks: "Yet they live."

Lindsey continued in Latin. "And the five shall be a sacrifice... and the one who is dead shall live..."

Holland spoke to Lilah, "Get the movers in here."

"Yes Sir," she said.

Lindsey continued in Latin, "Even as life and death are not two things but one... in darkness is the light, in light is the darkness. Arise! Arise! Arise!"

The five vampires turned to dust and bones as the earth shook and a whirlwind began to spin around the box. Before Lindsey's eyes, a small blonde woman…the Slayer, he realized…jumped directly into the whirlwind within the pentacle and pushed the box out of it with one mi hea heave. The whirlwind didn't dissipate, instead sucking the vampire dust and bones into the center. An incandescent light formed at the center and, unable to find the now-missing box, centered itself upon the Slayer instead. The ring of light exploded outward--arng ing into Buffy in a huge blast and throwing her against the wall. She landed in an unconscious heap on the floor.

Angel and Voca were fighting on as if nothing had happened. The movers rushed in and Holland ordered them, "Shit, that wasn't ssed sed to happen! Get her out of here."

As the movers grabbed the unconscious Slayer and carried her out, Holland threw a quick glance at Lindsey who was trapped between a madly fighting Angel and Voca and unable to edge around to follow the others out of the crypt. Holland left him there.

Angel and Voca were still fighting--Angel frantically trying to finish it and follow after Buffy. Lindsey slowly edged his way towards a flaming torch. He still had the scroll and knew that he couldn't allow Angel to get it.

Angel finally got the scythe away from Voca and pinned him up against the wall. He knocked the mask of Voca's face to reveal a maggot filled hole where his nose should be. "Nice," he said, then drove the blade of the scythe into Voca's chest, killing him instantly.

Behind him Lindsey hade ade it to the torch and grabbed ahold of a post topped by a cross, brandishing it in Angel's direction and keeping him from following his fallen mate. Angel slowly walked towards him, bloody scythe held loosely in his right hand. Everything within him screamed that he had to go after Buffy, but he needed the scroll to save Cordy.

Angel ordered, "Lindsey, give me the scroll."

"That's not gonna happen," Lindsey sneered. "It belongs to us."

Angel was furious. "Us. You put your faith in Wolfram and Hart."

"You said I had to make a choice."

Angel nodded, "And you did."

"Yeah," Lindsey said. "I had a crisis--and I want to thank you for your help with that--but I see things more clearly now."

"You don't see anything," Angel growled. "You don't know what faith is."

Lindsey held up the scroll. "I see that what happened here tonight was foretold--that doesn't bode well for you. I see that you are either the one with the power--or you're powerless."

Angel was lapsing quickly into Angelus. His mate was taken, his people injured and thissantsant lawyer stood before him as if he had a chance in hell of stopping the vampire. "Uh-huh. You see what I'm gonna do to you if you don't give me that scroll?"

Lindsey laughed. "You need the words of Anatole to cure your friend. She's your connection to the Powers That Be. And since it is foretold that we sever all your connections," he held the scroll into the flames burning in the urn beside him, "well..."

Angel threw the scythe, cutting off Lindsey's hand at the wrist. Lindsey dropped the cross and screamed as he dropped to the ground. He was cradling his bleeding stump against his chest, as Angel retrieved the scroll from the floor beside him.

"Don't believe everything you're foretold," Angel growled, before sprintafteafter the men who had taken Buffy.

Lindsey tried to suppress his screams as Angel raced out.

*

Cordelia was lying on the hospital bed. Wesley was sitting in a wheelchair beside it with Spike leaning over her bed on the other side.

Wesley chanted from the scroll, "And if the beast shalt find thee, and touch thee, thou shalt be wounded in thy soul--and thou shalt know madness. The beast shalt attack and cripple thee and thy soul shalt know neither friend nor family. But thou shalt undo the beast. Thou shalt find the sacred words of Anatole and thy soul shalt be set free. Three times shalt thou say these words: unbind--unbind--unbind."

A white flash issued from Cordelia's body and out of the room.

Cordelia blinked her eyes. Spike looked down at her hand. The mark was gone. Cordy looked up at Spike and he smirked at her. "Hallo, cheerleader," he said.

Cordy gasped, "Spike?"

"Welcome back," he smiled, glad that at least this one thing was right. Angel had only stopped by the hospital long enough to drop off the scroll, despite his concern for Cordelia. He was frantic with worry over Buffy, who he'd been unable to track. Spike understood his concern, feeling it himself. He just needed to take care of his sire's people and then he could follow him in the hunt for their mate.

Cordy gazed up at him. No…it was through him. "The light, it's so beautiful. Thank you." She pushed herself up and reached one trembling hand to his face and pulled him to her. Spike was dumfounded for a moment as Cordy kissed him with amazing tenderness. He felt woozy, suddenly--faint and dazed. Cordy closed her eyes, and fell back against the pillow, truly at peace within herself for the first time in her life. The room glowed again with a white flash, this one centered on Spike. The monitors on the bed began wailing and one let out a steady drone as Cordy's heart flat-lined.

"No!" Spike yelled and Wesley tried frantically to climb from his wheelchair.

"Get Dr. Evans," screamed the nurse who had just entered the room as she ran back into the hallway.

*

Wesley was studying the scroll while Angel tried to get Spike to drink from a warmed cup of blood. "Here is something."

"What is it?" Angel asked urgently. Unable to find Buffy, he'd returned to the hospital only to find Cordelia dead, Wesley wracked with grief, and Spike suffering from what could only be described as magic-induced shock. Angel had taken them all back to Cordelia's apartment, for lack of a better place to go. He put the cup down and stroked his childe's hair agitatedly as Wesley tried to decipher what the scroll said in regard to Angel, Buffy, or anything else that might help them get her back.

Wesley read, "The beast of Amalfi, a razor toothed six-eyed harbinger of death. No, wait, that's due to arise in 2003 in Reseda."

Angel continued caressing Spike, concerned that his childe was so out of "I "I would have guessed Tanzania."

"Better cross-reference that," Wesley muttered. "I'm sorry, I don't know what they were trying to raise in that box, thus I can't predict what the effect of the spell might have been upon the Slayer. I'll keep looking," he promised.

Wesley looked over at Spike, who lay exhausted and drained, upon Cordelia's sofa, barely able to keep his eyes open, but unwilling to rest.

Angel noticed Wesley staring at his childe.

Wesley glanced at him, then explained, "It's just I... I'm not used to..."

Angel nodded, "I know. I miss her too. But we have to find Buffy," he growled urgently. "Cordelia's gone, and Spike is hurt, but god knows what they're doing to Buffy. Please, Wes, keep looking."

Wesley looked down at his books, "Ah, oops. I may have made a tiny mistake." Angel stopped rubbing Spike's hair and got up. "The word Shanshu that I said meant you were going to die? Actually I think it means that you are going to live."

Spike whispered, "Okay, as tiny mistakes go--that's not one!"

Wesley explained, "Shanshu has roots in so many different languages. The most ancient source is the Proto-Bantu and they consider life and death the same thing, part of a cycle, only a thing that's not alive never dies. It's, it's saying…that you get to live until you die. It's saying…it's saying you become human."

Angel was shocked. "That's the prophecy?"

Wesley nodded. "Ah, the vampire with a soul, and his get, once he fulfills his destiny, will Shanshu. Become human. It's his reward."

Spike groaned. "Bollocks…Angel a human?"

Wesley interrupted, "But Angel, you don't have any grandchildren, do you?"

"No," Angel replied. "None that I know about, anyway."

"Then I don't understand this reference to your 'get.' That *is* the translation of the word, but it always refers to children. One would assume in your case it would be great-great-grandchildren, but still, if you know of none…" His voice dropped off as he studied the scroll again.

Angel exchanged a long intense look with Spike. "My get…my children? Or my..."

Spike interrupted, "Childer? Wait. What's that thing about him having to fulfill his destiny first?"

Wesley explained, "Well, it's saying that it won't happen tomorrow or the next day. He has to survive the coming darkness, the apocalyptic battles, a few plagues, and some, uh, several, not that many, fiends that will be unleashed."

Spike groaned, "Typical. I arrive in LA with the only person in history who ever came here to get older and he takes me with him. Forget about bloody Peaches. What does it say about Buffy in the scroll?"

Wesley searched through the scroll. "I can't tell right now, Spike. We know that Wolfram and Hart has her. I'd suggest that you look for her there…somehow."

*

It was day at Wolfram and Hart. Lilah, Holland and Lindsey were entering the vault where Buffy was chained, alone, in the dark. Lindsey's right arm was in a sling.

Holland said patronizingly, "The senior partners were very impressed with your sacrifice." Lindsey looked at him. "Trust me, we'll even the score with them."

Lindsey nodded, glancing at the Slayer chained to the wall. "Yes, we will."

Holland smiled evilly. "Beginning with what's in those chains."

Lilah leaning to look more closely at the Slayer, who was barely conscious and totally disoriented. "We are all very pleased you're here. I know it's a bit confusing, but it's going to get worse soon," she smiled. "A lot worse…"

"Buffy."

To be continued...