Chapter One

Charles Gunn stood eye to eye with Willie. They looked at each other suspiciously; Willie snorted loudly, indicating his disgust. Gunn started sweating. Willie decided that this puny human was wasting his time and closed his eyes, feigning sleep. Gunn looked wildly around for his companions and spotted Wes, Cordelia and Fred on the other side of the clearing. Fred was smiling sweetly (she did that a lot), Wes looked merely amused, and when Willie stomped his foot and Gunn jumped about 3 feet into the air, Cordelia burst out laughing.

"Oh this is too much! The mighty street fighter Gunn is afraid of a wittle horsie? Come on, we don't have all day and he isn't going to bite. Melody picked him specifically because of that, remember? You take down demons bigger than this all the time, and you can't even manage to pat him on the nose. For goodness sakes, he's like 20 years old!"

"Well, I didn't have to ride any of those demons, did I," Gunn grumbled, taking another step closer to the horse. He was half convinced that he was going to be kicked or bitten or something worse if he got any closer. If my gang could only see me now, mighty vampire hunter out for an afternoon ride to save the world. What are we-- fucking cowboys? He sighed and reached out tentatively. He brushed his fingers over Willie's spotted hide and watched as the horse flinched to get rid of the irritation. "Are you sure we can't do this with ATVs?"

"Positive: Cordy's vision, as well as Dru's, indicated a location that could only be reached with horses, and we were lucky enough to find a place we could get some. So climb on up and we'll be on our way." Wes shook his head at his friend fondly. So much had changed over the past few years, and the Angel Investigations family had grown even closer. He trusted any of them with his life, something he couldn't have said 6 or so years before.

Cordelia's friend Melody came out of the barn to make sure they were all OK with their given mounts, and Fred was helping her husband adjust the stirrups on his saddle. Wes let his thoughts run back over the day's events. He had been up in the morning fairly early, going over some recent case files and getting ready for a visit from Baby and Spike later that week. The pair had decided they needed a little vacation from the Big Easy, and Dru and Wes were delighted to extend an invitation to the City of Angels. Spike and Baby didn't visit often, bad memories he supposed, but it was always a wild ride when they did. No one ever knew what would happen and they spoiled Connor rotten. Connor was beyond excited to hear that Uncle Spike and Aunt Baby would be visiting-that meant candy and toys and staying up late, all the things that Mommy and Daddy wouldn't let him do.

Wes had been on his third cup of coffee that morning; he and Dru had one wonderful night before, he thought as he fondled the switchblade in his pocket, and he was exhausted. This was when Dru floated into the office still wearing her delicate lace nightgown.

"What is it, my love?"

She dropped onto his lap with a light purr and nuzzled his neck, licking and nipping. "You'll be going out today; the lamb is caught and won't last till nightfall. Crawling all over the rocks, webs to catch and snag. But it won't be over, a lamb will still bleed and we shall all be sorry." She stroked his hands and looked into his eyes imploringly. He couldn't help but smile and brush her ebony locks back from her face.

"Of course my dear, I'll do whatever is necessary. Could you show me?"

"No. They won't let me. But such pretty horses! Shining in the sun, strong and sleek. What fun!"

Wes wasn't sure what all of this meant, but he wrote it all down verbatim in a leather bound notebook anyway. One never knew with Dru's prophesies--she said today, but which today? He shook his head. Dru was humming sleepily and yawning widely, so he gathered her up in his arms and carried her gently up to bed. He had long ago given up his own place, and he figured his place as Consort brooked any debate from Angel. They had enlarged her room into a suite for the two of them and redecorated. He let Dru choose most of the furniture and layout, and it ended up looking very much like her home as a child, he imagined. Very English at any rate, complete with tea cozies.

After he tucked her in and watched her fall back asleep he wandered softly down the stairs. Gunn and Fred were downstairs by this time and apparently eating breakfast.

"S'up Wes, wanna doughnut? Fresh from around the corner…" Gunn held the box out temptingly, and Wes snagged a blueberry-filled. Fred began twittering about something, but Wes wasn't listening. Almost in a haze, he went into the back office and sat in front of a stack of books. Fred and Gunn exchanged glances. "Dru musta had another prophesy." Fred nodded and picked up a chocolate glazed. Her food consumption always managed to astound her husband, though she never gained a pound. Remarkable. She polished off that donut and he handed her a powered sugar with a laugh. They each got to their regular duties--Gunn maintained the weaponry and checked it every morning and Fred started in on the research volumes she had brought in. When she had first started, she hadn't been sure of her place in the group--she neither fought nor researched demons as well as Angel and Gunn or Wes and she most definitely didn't have vision like Cordy, Dru or Lorne. So she had found her own niche: science. She had skills the others didn't--well, maybe Wes a little--and she knew she could use them to help. So she did.

They were all quietly engaged when Angel and Cordelia rushed downstairs. Angel shouted "Vision!" causing Fred to spill her coffee all over Physical and Chemical Hydrogeology by Domencino and Schwartz. The three rushed out of the office to nearly collide with Angel and Cordelia in the lobby.

"Mountains, demons with lots of legs, little boy, hot, sunshine, NOW!" Cordelia panted.

Wes looked thoughtful. "I guess she meant today. Hmm. We need horses, and it will have to be Cordelia, Fred, Gunn and myself in the sunshine. Sorry Angel. Dru mentioned something about webs and catching lambs, but she couldn't be more specific. Do you have any point of reference for the mountains? Did you see anything that could pin it down more than that?"

The gang looked a little surprised and Gunn whispered to Fred, "See, prophesy, told you. But horses?" He looked distinctly nervous.

"Well, there were these rocks that looked kinda like my parent's counters, but smushed a bit, smeared out. And it seemed that we were on top of a mountain, but a lone mountain, nothing else around us. And it sort of stuck out of the ground. There seemed to be a city of sorts if you looked toward the sun. Scraggly, though, definitely not LA."

"Fred, will you see where that type of rock appears in the mountains surrounding the LA basin, and the rest of us need to find horseback transport. Anyone know a stable?"

"Oh!" Cordy waved her hands excitedly, "my old Sunnydale friend, well, sort of friend Melody has a racing stable somewhere near Bakersfield and I'll give her a call. Maybe it will be close to where we need to go. I loved riding as a girl, and polo was wonderful." She turned away, visions of polo parties dancing in her head-tents and champagne and cute waiters bringing whatever she wanted.

Fred located the most likely spot and after brief goodbyes to those left behind--Connor was most jealous that Mommy got to go ride a horse--they were on their way to Melody's ranch. It seemed that they were heading for Frazier Peak. The mountain was located at the "big bend" of California, the place where the San Andreas, Big Pine, San Gabriel, and Garlock Faults met in a flattened X pattern, a little less than 2 hours from the Hyperion. Seismically, there was a lot of energy in the area, and that was as likely to draw a demonic ritual as anything else. Frazier Peak jutted out of the relatively flat surrounding valley near Bakersfield, a splinter mountain without roots, pushed up out of the Pleistocene non-marine sediments due to compressional rotation. The rocks Cordy described could very well be coarse grained granite intrusives that had been metamorphosed under high pressures into banded gneisses--a rock that indeed looked like a slightly smushed granite counter top--and the Peak was the closest location to LA for true granites.

Wes shook himself and brought his thoughts back to the present. Fred had finally gotten Gunn onto his scraggly old appaloosa with minimal groaning and whuffling from both parties, and was preparing to mount her own petite quarter horse. When Cordy asked if she had ever ridden before Fred looked at her with laughing eyes and said, "I grew up in west Texas, what did you think we did for fun?" and turned away to expertly saddle her own mount. Wes had been the only one to choose an English saddle, hunt seat, the rest went for the security of a western saddle. Gunn was gripping his saddle horn for dear life and the horse wasn't even moving yet. This is going to be interesting, Wes thought as he swung himself up onto a handsome blood bay with black points. Melody said he was a retired steeplechaser and loved a good romp in the country. Melody also hadn't asked too many questions, a function of growing up and surviving Sunnydale, except for wondering what all the weaponry was for. Wes let Cordy deal with answering Melody; he thought she said something about being part of a reenactment club. He wondered what Melody thought they were reenacting.

There was a lot of activity around her ranch and they were lucky that no one paid too much attention to them. It seemed a local boy, aged 7, had been kidnapped out of his parent's fields earlier that week. The parents were frantic, and had called in all the neighboring ranchers to organize a search. Wes silently wished them luck, thinking of Connor safe at home. He couldn't imagine going through the fright of losing a child again.

With all parties saddled up and more or less in control, Wes moved them out, heading up the mountainside.

Chapter Two

Sage saturated the air, and all around crickets and other insects sang a cacophony of nature. Wes was hot, tired, anxious, and having a wonderful time. He had loved riding back in England; it had soothed him, and now the smell of warm horse and clean leather swirled him into memories long forgotten. As a child, the barn had been a place of refuge, somewhere to hide. The horses didn't judge or criticize, they merely kept him company. Dark-eyed and soft-muzzled, they watched over him as he hid behind the hay, betraying nothing. And best of all, those moments when he was as close to flying as he ever came, riding over jumps bareback, his hands knotted in the dark mane in front of him. The world was washed away in the winds ruffling his clothes and he was free, truly free for just those few moments. He and the horse had been one, powerful and sleek; he was invincible. Unconsciously his hands wound into the mane of the horse beneath him now. Bandit snorted and tossed his head, rolling his eyes backwards in response to the tension he felt in his rider. Wes relaxed his fingers and stroked the smooth withers, crooning softly.

He looked ahead in the sun-drenched California haze and tried to see the best way up the slope. They had been at this about 3 hours and he knew time was running out. Dru said they had until sunset, and it was now 3 pm, giving them about four hours. He hadn't seen any webs or anything out of the ordinary, but he wasn't really sure what he was looking for. They hadn't been able to identify the demons in Cordelia's vision before they left, and their cell phones got no signal this far from the city, so Angel was no help. He turned around to face his companions behind. Cordelia followed him, then Gunn, then Fred. Cordelia looked hot and bothered, but still putting on a brave front. Gunn looked tired and slightly less terrified now that Willie hadn't bitten, kicked, or knocked him off. Fred was telling him horseback stories of her youth, trying to calm him down.

"Fred, what's our location, and can you see a way up this last hill? It looks like the peak we are after is directly above us, but there doesn't seem a way up from here."

Fred flipped open her GPS and fiddled around with the route markers and compass trying to get a fix. When the requisite satellites came up, she hollered out, "You're right! We're almost on top where we think we should be, but the topography is too steep where we are. If we follow this line around, we should come out on the other side of this rise and be able to climb with much more ease. See that outcropping up and to the right? That should be where we're headed, if we can get there this way."

Everyone squinted against the glare and looked upwards. About three stories above was a grey rock outcropping with a few sad cedars hanging on for dear life. Cordelia almost fell out of her saddle when she saw something shining on the edge, leaning over. It darted out of sight, the light glimmering on long thing appendages, and dislodged a few pebbles and dirt to fall on the horses below.

"Uh, guys, I think we need to hurry--our cover has just been blown. Unless I was mistaken, I just saw the legs of the icky in my vision, alive and kicking. And if we want them to be any less alive and kicking, let's go!"

"Come on Charles, just give him a kick and he will follow Cordy and Wes, see? That's it, cluck to him and squeeze his sides. Whoa, don't let him turn around! Wait--you're in control, not the horse, make him realize that. Charles!"

With that, Fred and Gunn's mounts got horribly tangled. Willie decided that he had done by far enough work today and did not want to hurry. He was going home, and this human, who obviously knew nothing, couldn't stop him. He breathed all the air out of his lungs and lunged back down the slope, Gunn tugging furiously on the reins. Fred pulled her mount into a direct cross path and snagged Willie's reigns, yanking his head around. She nudged her mount forward with her knees while pressing Willie's head back to his withers. With Willie bent nearly in two, Fred reached down and broke a switch off of a low shrub and walloped him across the flanks. Willie tossed his head sharply and turned around, defeated. Fred handed the makeshift crop to Gunn.

"See sweetie, nothing to it. If he gives you problems again, just give him a light swat with this on his hindquarters. He should do what you want. Now we have to catch up. Come on!"

Charles Gunn stared at his wife, bemused, and obeyed. This was not the shy Fred he was used to; she really took control. He knew she had it in her, but the rest of the crew didn't see it often. Perhaps today they were in for a surprise. Gunn could just see Cordy's horse rounding the corner in front of them at a nice clip, her horse's hooves clacking on the rocks littering the path. Fred urged her and Gunn's mount into a trot and the two began weaving through the trees to catch up. The soft needles of the pines caressed their cheeks and Gunn couldn't help but be reminded of spider webs and other creepy crawlers. He vaguely understood what the monsters looked like and he hoped to God that they weren't nearly as arachnid-like as Cordy and Dru made out. He hated spiders, he thought as he shuddered.

Wes had taken off at a canter, easily avoiding trees and downed limbs. Bandit had been a very fine horse in his day, and he was delighted to be reliving some of the thrill and urgency of the race. He knew, because his rider knew, that this was important. He had to go fast, run like the wind, and that was what he did best. He blew out and lowered his head to make it easier for Wes to lean down low over his neck. The fine hair of Bandit's mane flittered across his nose and eyes and he grinned. This was what he remembered, the flight, feeling alive. They raced up the hill, hearing Cordy close behind them. She wasn't quiet or particularly graceful, but she hung on like a trooper and pushed her mount faster. They leapt a log nearly in tandem and were close to each other as the trees thinned out and they stumbled to a stop at the edge of a rough clearing at the edge of the bluff they had seen from below. And in the clearing were Cordelia's demons. Standing about eight feet tall, glistening like gunmetal in the later afternoon sun, were several scorpion-spider-like demons with enormous eyes and curving tails with sharp barbs. They chittered at each other angrily and moved from the edge of the outcropping to face the intruders.

Both mounts squealed in fright, and Cordy and Wes struggled to maintain control. Horses were fine with lots of things, but giant walking scorpio-spiders were altogether a different kettle of fish. Cordelia was suddenly very glad that they brought crossbows as well as axes and swords as she and Wes dove into their saddlebags to load up; they wanted as little hand-to-hand combat as possible.

Firing rapidly several times, they pierced the armor of the two closest demons, but the others merely swarmed ahead.

"Dear Lord," Wes whispered, looking past the demons. On the rocks near the edge of the cliff lay a small boy bound hand and foot with something that looked like webbing. Near him was a chalice, a large knife and an idol of some sort, standing about a foot high. Wes tore his gaze away in time to wheel Bandit out of the grasp of the nearest creature and get in a slash with his sword. He glanced to Cordelia, who was doing better about keeping out of reach, firing one bolt after another. Perhaps we ought to invest in firearms or something, Wes thought as he parried a blow from the long tail, guns would definitely be an asset here!

At this, Fred and Gunn appeared in the clearing. "The boy! Behind them!" shouted Wes, gasping for breath. Bandit was starting to lather up from stress and exhaustion, but still held strong. Cordelia had taken out two more with crossbow bolts. Two had cornered Wes, one was still pursuing Cordelia, and three more turned to meet Fred and Gunn. Gunn unstrapped the axe from his back and took a mighty swing at the nearest target, lopping off the stinger. Great, more spiders. Why me? Couldn't we get giant butterflies or something sometime?

Fred dashed around the two demons engaging Gunn and maneuvered over to where the boy was laying. Without slowing down, she leaned out of the saddle and hooked the boy up by his arm and heaved him over her saddlebow, holding him securely. Easy as pie, barrel riding all over again! She wheeled her mount around and unslung her crossbow, leveling it at Gunn's nearest foe. With a twang, the bolt embedded itself in the back of the demon's head and it fell down twitching.

Cordy was reduced to slashing at her remaining demon with a sword, and Gunn was carving pieces off his one limb at a time. God slash damn chop chop chop spider slice and swing freaks stab why thud me slash slash all over again whap get off me swoop and slice what is this stuff duck and swerve argh!!! Gunn wheeled out of the way as quickly as he could to evade the white thready mess coming out of the demon's mouth. Webs? You have got go be kidding me! Amazingly enough, Willie had given up all pretense of fighting with Gunn and decided that living was a definite plus. He did what he could to balance Gunn's weight and stabilize the combat.

All in all, the crew who had never fought on horseback was doing amazingly well, until one well-placed blow knocked Wes backwards onto the dirt. He rolled out from Bandit's hooves and took up a fighting stance against his demons. Bandit moved out of the way, but didn't run, choosing to stick around and wait for his rider, despite his imminent panic.

With a holler, Fred galloped by Wes and cleaved the head of one demon clean off its shoulders before turning on a dime and dashing back over to help round up Bandit. Wes wasn't exactly sure how they should proceed, but he wasn't particularly interested in sticking around. He saw Cordy finish off her demon and he reached out to her. The idol, Cordy, get the idol from the ledge. He wasn't at all sure that she would hear; it had been a while since they had communicated this way, and they had always done so with Dru. He hoped she was talented enough to hear him without Dru's help. Cordy's head jerked up, and she looked over to Wes, battered and dirty, concentrating on problems close at hand. She urged her mount past Gunn and his fight to the edge of the rocks. She scrambled down and picked up the heavy, steel-grey metal figure vaguely resembling the demons attacking them. She didn't know what to do with the chalice and knife, both covered with markings and symbols, so she grabbed those too, and stuffed them in her saddlebags. Her mount was showing signs of severe stress, so she stroked her neck and talked softly, trying to calm her down, eyeing the battle and circling demons closely. Oddly enough, they didn't seem to want to kill the AI team, just corner and incapacitate them. Weird. When she could no longer see the whites of her horse's eyes, she mounted again and called out, "Wes, got it! Now we should go!"

At that, Fred grabbed Bandit's reigns and led him behind Wes at a trot. When Bandit was directly behind him, Wes snagged the pommel and swung himself into the saddle, wincing at the strain on his shoulder. Gunn and Willie were more than happy to clear out and turned tail and ran back down the trail they had ascended minutes before, Cordelia right behind him. Fred was struggling to hold the unconscious little boy on her horse, so when Wes caught up with her, he lifted the boy from her horse and settled him in front of himself on Bandit, urging Bandit to go as fast as possible down the mountainside, rocks and debris sliding down around Bandit's bunched haunches. Behind, the foursome could hear the wounded demons angrily crackling and hissing as they struggled to follow, falling farther and farther behind.

All of a sudden, Wes could hear Corelia scream. He glanced to his left and saw her tangled in a mass of whispy web. She had come down off the trail they had ascended and was stuck. She hacked at the sticky stuff with her blade and managed to pull free, leaving part of her saddlebags still attached, swinging from the bushes. Without a second thought, she plunged downhill after the others.

Chapter Three

The car on the way home was quiet. The sort of peaceful quiet after a battle well fought, where the soldiers know they earned their rest, and they could be proud. The foursome rode in Angel's borrowed convertible with the top down, savoring the cool early evening wind. The idol was packed away in the trunk with the weapons, and their wounds had been field dressed. Berlioz was playing on the stereo as Wes ran his fingers through his hair and checked the rearview mirror. Fred and Gunn were almost asleep in the back seat.

The boy, Andrew as it turned out, was safe back home. During their ride back to the farm, Wes and Cordy had privately discussed what they should do. It was conceivable that the boy had been willingly given as a sacrifice, but they didn't think so. Still, it didn't hurt to check it out, however limited their resources were on the side of a mountain. They asked the boy's story when he regained consciousness, and it seemed to exculpate his parents, stating that he had been playing in the back yard at dusk when 'monsters' had grabbed him. The boy had been lost for days and was understandably traumatized. The search and rescue crew had returned to Melody's farm around the same time they did, and fairly fell over when they saw them bring in the very child they were looking for.

While the crew called the sheriff and Andrew's parents, Wes went to the car and pulled out his emergency kit. Most people's emergency car kits consisted of jumper cables and tire irons. Wes' emergency kit had herbs, powders, crystals and weapons. To each their own, he supposed. While the sheriff interrogated his co-workers and the parents, he whipped up as much of a 'truth spell' as he could--a little stinky, but they were in a barnyard, so he figured people wouldn't notice too terribly much, and lightly dusted both the parents and the boy. No one lit up in magenta sparklies, so it seemed the parents were innocent. Wes was delighted, but still wondered why this boy was taken, and not another. Demons were generally more selective than humans when it came to sacrifices. Messing up ritual sacrifices tended to go poorly for all involved. When questioned about finding Andrew, Wes maintained that they had found him asleep and lost on the mountain, and that the boy would be frightened and likely to make up monsters to blame his fears on, but not to worry, the fears would pass. We tell them the fear always passes, but it never really does, Wes thought with a sigh and refocused his attention on his fellow passengers.

"Fred?"

"Hmm, Wes?"

"You were impressive today. I had no idea that you knew how to ride like a rodeo star. When did you learn?"

"Where I grew up, there wasn't much to do for fun. Even though I always loved my books and classes, horseback riding got me out of the house with my friends-another life. We would ride over at Rachel's farm until dark, practicing with hay bales because her father didn't think barrel riding was appropriate for ladies."

Wes smiled back at her through the mirror. "Believe me, I understand, Fred." For a moment, Fred thought she saw something cold and haunted in his eyes, almost like his aura before he went out for an evening on the town with Drusilla. Fred knew intellectually that Wes was a killer, but she compartmentalized it away as the other Wes, not the one she saw daily. Her Wes kindly handed the exhausted boy over to his distraught parents.

Fred had decided a long time ago that the Wes she saw under Billy's influence, the other Wes, was not Wes at all, but some aspect of Billy. She supposed it was the same way she saw Angel, as a man pure and simple. Sure he had eating and sunlight issues, but that was the other Angel, the beast from Pylea. They were two separate entities--Angel and Angelus. Luckily she had never met Angelus, but the possibility of his return made Charles very nervous, so she kept it in the back of her mind. This world was a strange place, who knew what would happen.

Cordelia, for her part, saw the look in Wes's eyes as well, and gently reached over and squeezed his hand. "You know, Wes, if you want to sometime, we could come back and ride, just for pleasure, no demons allowed?" She smiled faintly as Wes nodded contemplatively. He sighed and clenched the wheel. He couldn't wait to get home; Drusilla would be waiting.

******

The crew straggled into the hotel lobby, heavy-headed and bone tired. Connor came dashing down the stairs and leapt at Cordelia, who only managed not to fall over because Gunn and Wesley caught her.

"Mommy! Guess what we did today! Auntie Dru played hide and seek with me for hours, and then we went swimming, and then we had grilled cheese and chocolate milk, then Daddy came and read me a story! I had a great day! What did you do?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes and handed Connor over to a grinning, rumpled Angel. "I had a very long day, and it appears that you wore your father out as well. Why don't you run along upstairs and I will come tuck you in. How does that sound?" Connor pouted, then took off up the stairs, barreling past Dru by the banister and vanishing down the hallway.

Angel traced a lock of hair off Cordelia's face gently, and dipped his head down for a kiss. "Mmm, that's nice, but right now, I am about to fall over. Eeep!" With that, Angel swept her up and called back over his shoulder, "See you all in the morning, my Princess has to get her beauty sleep!" Cordelia punched his shoulder grouchily. "You'll regret that when I wake up, buster, so watch out."

That left Wes, Fred and Gunn almost falling over where they stood. One look at the diminished group and Wes said, "Well, my ladylove calls. I will see you two tomorrow. Remember that Baby and Spike get here in the afternoon, so don't be surprised when the tornado in leather and spiked heels hits." He turned and walked up the stairs to Drusilla's waiting arms as Fred and Gunn grinned.

Gunn held the door open for Fred, "After you!" Fred dipped her head and moved out into the LA night.

Chapter Four

Wes gently swam out of sleep to soft humming and soft hands traveling downwards from his naked chest. "Mmmfffph, Dru, good morning. You're up awfully early; which worm are you catching, my lovely bird?" He stretched and rolled over, wiping the crusties out of his eyes. Dru was smiling dreamily, her dark hair swept up into an elaborate night braid.

"It's a big day for our family, my Wesley. We should be very excited--our family is becoming whole, for a while anyway. Such lovely songs we'll all be singing. And one day you'll be king of your own castle in the sun, but we shan't be burned."

Wes was still too asleep to make much sense of Drusilla's rambling. He breathed in sharply as Dru's wandering fingers reached the waistband of his boxers, teasing the elastic. To hell with figuring that one out, was his last coherent thought as Drusilla gave him better things to think about.

After a brief shower, and a few exciting activities later, Wes found himself staring at the idol on his desk, absently running his thumb over the ridged legs. Who are you? And why did you appear now? What do you have to do with that little boy? Why a little boy? He didn't really have any answers in any of the texts he had here. He had hoped to find clues on the idol itself, but there were no markings of any kind; it was completely unmarked. The dagger and chalice had markings on them; unfortunately, they were hung up in a glorified spider web somewhere in the mountains and he had no interest in going after them again. One tangle with those demons was plenty. He hoped the idol was enough. Regardless, Wes decided to call on a little backup and phoned an old friend.

"Hello, this is Wesley in LA… How is your family?... Oh, no, I am so sorry. Is there anything we can do besides Faith's help?... No? Well, be sure to let us know if you change your mind, we are only a short distance away… Yes, I rather did have a question for you. Seems we had a bit of a vision problem yesterday about some giant scorpion spider things with an idol and implements, but we don't know what they were trying to do…. I see… Yes, the implements, a chalice and a knife to be precise, did have markings… No, they are not available at this time… Several, you say? Hmmm…. We didn't know…. Yes, someone can come up today; we understand that you are otherwise engaged…. Please know our thoughts are with you… Yes, I understand… Take care."

Wesley sat back, stunned; he had no idea that Jenny Giles was as sick as she was. The doctors had given a good prognosis for her ovarian cancer, and now she was in the intensive care center at the hospital with a low likelihood of recovery. They had sent Faith to Sunnydale to help with the slaying load, as both Buffy and Dawn were helping take care of the Giles' children. Rupert spent most of his time taking care of his wife. Giles didn't have time to do the research, but he believed he had some relevant texts to help them solve their problems.

Giles seemed to remember references to such creatures using idols to perform ceremonies, but the indicators for which ceremony were on the knife and chalice used to sacrifice the victim. Ordinary knives may not have the same effect; the sacred objects functioned as a primer to explain what needed to be done as well as a semi-magical catalyst. Feeling somewhat screwed, he picked up the grotesque statue once again. He hoped the others would get up and around soon: they had a lot to talk about.

Fiddling around with the statue, his eyes fell on a blinking light on the phone. Messages? Frowning, he played the message.

"Saturday, four thirty two P.M. Hello, this is the Lamonti Firm calling to speak to either Mr. Angel or Mr. Wyndham-Price. We have need of your particular talents tomorrow evening to sort out a problem in Century City. Please contact us at our regular number for specifics. We are willing to pay extra for immediate service. Thank you. Click."

Really, Angel, it would have been helpful to know about this earlier. Wes hissed lightly in frustration; he didn't look forward to bringing this up with the rest of AI later in the day.

Around eleven, the rest of the hotel began stirring. Connor came rattling down the stairs, stopping at the doorway to the office. Connor knew the office was off limits, but like any child around a prohibited object, he wanted to look in all the more. Wes saw the small dark-haired shadow leaning on the door-jamb and smiled. "Good morning, Connor, can I help you?"

"Wanna Pop-Tart."

"I see. Do your parents let you eat Pop-Tarts?"

"No." Connor made a face and slyly tried another tactic. "Wanna donut."

"Do they let you eat donuts?"

"No, they do not. You know that all that sugar winds you up too much." Angel swept his son up in his arms and ruffled his hair. "Good morning, Wes, any luck on our mystery friends from yesterday?" He plopped down in the chair across from Wesley, his son firmly seated on his lap. Connor eyed the statue in the center of the large mahogany desk and tentatively reached out his hand. "No! You know you're not allowed to touch anything in here. And as a matter of fact, we shouldn't even be in here. Let's go find you some Cheerios!" Connor made a face at Wes as his father slung him over his shoulder like a sack of meal and hauled him out of the office.

They hadn't made it past the divan when the front doors of the hotel swung open to reveal Baby and Spike in all their splendor, holding a large box of donuts. Connor squealed (not that he would admit to squealing--he was a boy, and boys don't squeal) and squirmed out of his father's grasp, dashing to the doorway.

"What's this then, bite-sized? Want some donuts? Got them especially for you…" Spike flashed a sardonic smile at Angel as he handed the box to Connor, who took the forbidden treats with great enthusiasm.

"What do you say, son?"

"Uh, thanks, Uncle Spike and Aunt Baby. Cool! You got rainbow sprinkles, my favorite!"

"Nothing but the best for my bébé," Baby said as she watched Connor secure the box on the other side of the lobby from Angel, eyeing him suspiciously in case his father decided to revoke the unusual privilege. Angel sighed and rolled his eyes.

"You and your bad influence."

"You love it, you know you do!" Spike crossed the few more steps to the other side of the lobby and clasped Angel's forearm in greeting. Spike eyed him critically. "Nice to see the hair is still defying gravity; what did you do, revoke the laws of nature?" Angel growled and ignored him.

"Baby."

Baby nodded, not altogether sure what came next. "Angel." No touching. Touching was bad. Pinning her down, his teeth in her throat, panting, thrusting, the bruises burning... Images from their last visit flew by, dragging her along with them. Stop it! she told herself sharply. She didn't want to go there, and thankfully neither did Angel. He looked her over, amused at the outfit that would shame anyone else of her age and stage but somehow looked fine on Baby, and cocked his eyebrow. Baby froze, waiting for something-she wasn't sure what.

The moment was interrupted as Wes came gracefully through the office doors and kissed her gently. "Baby, how wonderful to see you. How was your trip; uneventful I hope?"

"Ha! Sugar, like traveling with me would ever be uneventful!" She winked, glad to be back on familiar ground. Wes and Spike embraced and thumped each other on the back in the universal man greeting and stepped back.

"I phoned upstairs and Cordelia and Drusilla will be down momentarily. Could I offer you any coffee or blood this morning? We stocked some fresh O-neg for Spike."

Angel looked at Wes slightly askance. This was his outfit and his family, what was Wes doing playing host? He subconsciously bristled and let out an imperceptible sub-vocal snarl.

"Spike, Baby! How are you, how was your drive? I hope the traffic wasn't too bad." Cordy came down the stairs, Drusilla floating after her in a contrast of times. Cordelia was dressed to the nines, regardless that it was Sunday morning. Clients came on Sundays and it never hurt to be prepared. The silk of her shirt was perfectly pressed and gleamed a soft rose in the morning sun; her slacks were a similarly perfectly pressed chocolate, an immaculate icon of professionalism. Drusilla wore a flowing, full skirt of midnight blue, her bodice an intricate study of cream lace birds in flight. She had undone her braid from this morning and her hair fell in loose ringlets that could have been held in paper curlers so many years ago. Both were stunning, and power fairly radiated out in front of them.

Drusilla kissed both Spike and Baby and whispered softly, "A big day for the family. Our family will become whole again, and things will be healed. Games for us all today, my pets," before turning away, a secret smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Spike and Baby exchanged glances, more than a little confused. They had accepted Wesley and Drusilla's offer mainly due to Dru's insistence. She was convinced that they needed to come, but she wouldn't say why. That's my Dru, never could make things easy on any of us. Riddles and parlor games and dolls on the shelf. The inner Spike chuckled and wondered what Dru had in store for them, since he was convinced that everyone else was in the dark as much as he was. When he finally shook himself out of his mental wheel-turning, the party had adjourned to the sitting room by the office. Connor retreated upstairs with the admonishment not to eat himself sick, but no one really thought he paid attention.

The six players in what would become one of the most ambitious enterprises in this dimension's history sat around the desk and waited for someone to talk. Wes spread out his hands and began.

"We are delighted you're here, but you seem to have arrived in the middle of something. We had an encounter with some rather unpleasant demons yesterday and we are having a bit of trouble solving their mystery."

"Oh ho, taking on more than you can chew, are you Angel?" Spike smirked. "Don't have enough money to hire some help? No one interested in cleaning up demon guts for a pittance these days? What is the world coming to?" Baby poked him sharply with her elbow. "What'd I do?"

"Stuff it, Spike, we do just fine," Angel snarked back, beetling his brows and slumping down in the chair.

"Actually," said Wesley gently, "we could do with some help today, if you wouldn't mind. We're a little short-handed since Charles is incapacitated." His mouth twisted up in an almost-grin. Apparently parts of Gunn's anatomy didn't take well to extended hours in the saddle, and he had some mending to do.

With a glare in Angel's direction Spike responded, "No problem, mate. Always up for some carnage, aren't we, my dove?" The look they sent each other could melt stone, and Cordelia wondered if Baby and Spike were going to engage in undead bone-jumping in front of everyone. Spike broke the look by putting his feet up on Wes's desk, despite Wes's frown.

"There are several things we may need to do. You see, the Lamonti Firm called about a security issue yesterday. Angel seems to have forgotten to check the machine, so we didn't get back to them until this morning. I promised we would take care of their problem today, since they'll pay an emergency bonus. It seems some of the Yhethi clan have hired themselves a vampire nest down in Century City and are picking off businessmen they see as rivals."

All eyes turned on a sheepish Angel. "What?"

"Forgot to check the machine again, Angel?" Cordelia snorted. "They are one of our best paying clients! Let me guess, the Lamonti's own clients are the rivals that the Yhethi want to off. The Lamonti are a security company in the basin that use us for their… special… security needs," she offered as explanation to the out-of-towners. She was more than mildly irritated that Angel's technological incompetence nearly edged them out of a lucrative gig. Not that missing-child reward money wasn't nice, but it wasn't something to build a business on.

"And since we didn't recover the articles with the identifying markings, we need to get some information from Giles. I called this morning and it seems like Jenny has taken a turn for the worse. She is in intensive care at the hospital and Giles is a wreck. He has agreed to pull some books for us to look over but someone needs to go to Sunnydale to pick them up." All eyes turned to Angel, each thinking a version of the same thing.

Wes: No way in any hell I am going to leave my Drusilla here and subject myself to that again.

Drusilla: Echoes dragging us down, my sweet Wesley will wind all up, and have no chance to play.

Cordelia: He has got to be kidding if he thinks I am ever going to set foot in that sorry excuse for an overgrown suburb with no fashion sense again. No way no how.

Spike: Well, wouldn't that be a riot. Slayers and all. I don't bloody well think so.

Baby: Oh God. Never again. Not Sunnydale, not Sunnydale.

Angel could read their looks as plain as day. He bowed his head. "Fine, I'll go. Be good to see how Faith is coping. It never was her kind of town; a friendly face would do her some good. Just give him a call and let him know I will be up around 7 or so. This means that the bunch of you will have to handle the Yhethi by yourselves." He looked over the whole group, but his gaze landed last on Baby. Damn! What was it about her that made him want to reach out and touch her throat. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to stroke his faded claim, or squeeze that 'I know all about you, what you are, what you could be' look off her face.

"Please, like we can't cope without the broody one. What do you think we are, bleeding incompetents?"

"Spike has a point, Angel: don't insult us." Cordelia may not have been a vampire, but she knew she was a good hunter, and they all knew how deadly Baby could be. "We'll be fine. And Connor is going to a Children's Theatre Production with Lorne tonight. He has a singing role and you know how much Connor likes those plays. He's going to take him for dinner and everything, so we don't need to worry." Cordy saw the look Angel was giving Baby and Spike but couldn't figure it out. Normally she could read him well, but when it came to the vampire 'family' he was part of, she was clueless. Cordy wasn't sure how they fit into the hierarchy of the clan, and Angel never seemed interested in explaining it to her. Frankly, it made her cranky and annoyed at Angel. She would be glad to have him out of their hair this afternoon; it would give her a chance to get to know Baby a little better.

"You know, Angel, you could do something else while you're out tonight. If it's possible, could you check the mountain for the chalice and knife we're missing? It would be a great help." Wes could almost hear Angel processing this last little bit. "You are a master vampire, are you not? It's only a few miles out of your way, and they would be invaluable for help in our research."

"Fine, whatever, I'll go. But I don't know whether I'll go to the mountain tonight. We'll have to see."

"That's fine, though we should go back at some point, once we've tentatively determined what they are, if you can't get there tonight. I can get the GPS reading from Fred's handheld, and tell you exactly how to get there."

Angel sat, silently grumbling to himself, Great, now it's my turn to play exterminator on the mountainside. Where's a can of Raid when you need one? Huffing, he looked at his wife for sympathy. Cordelia merely looked at him with raised eyebrows.

Chapter Five

The night was bright with moonlight, the light of the moon obscuring any starlight that struggled through the smog. Angel had hit the road at dusk, speeding toward Sunnydale. He wasn't entirely sure why he was going, other than that it looked as if the mob would lynch him if he didn't agree. He was drawing close, and cruised into town past the "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign. He started up Main Street when he saw a commotion down an alley. He slowed to a stop, but before he could get out of the door, the fight ended in a swirl of dark hair and dust. Faith whipped around at the sounds of clapping to see a smirking Angel leaning against the car.

"Bravo, bravo. What nice form you have there, my dear. All the better to beat people up with."

"Ha ha, Angel, I've been expecting you for half an hour. What gives?"

"Traffic. Hop in and I'll give you a ride to the Magic Box. Hopefully Giles has the books there."

"Could be, but you know Cordy will kill you if you don't stop in and see Jenny."

Angel winced. He was hoping Faith wouldn't bring that up, but it seemed inevitable. He sighed pathetically and held the passenger door open for the dark Slayer. "Fine, books first, then Jenny. So fill me in on our latest Hellmouth activities. Any fun new beasties?"

"Nah, not really. Pretty much just the usual dead guys, though we had some exciting moments with an escaped hippo from the zoo. Those guys have a mean temper. Who'da thought? And you, anything new in LA?"

Angel paused for a moment and glanced over to see Faith plop her booted feet up on the dashboard. "Feet. Down. Now. And I guess there is new stuff. Baby and Spike are in town and we have some big scary spider things running around."

"So that's why you seem off."

"What? The spiders?"

Faith gave him a funny look. "No. Baby and Spike. She always winds you up bad, probably best she doesn't come around much."

Angel grunted and flicked his hand at her. "Don't know what you mean."

Eyes rolling, Faith leaned over and pointed. "There. Park there, and we can walk to the store. Anya should be meeting us."

Angel slid into marked parking space and turned to face Faith. He was concerned about her being here in Sunnydale. She agreed to come, but everyone knew how she felt about the place, especially with two Summers Slayers. He gently touched her cheek. "Faith. How are you really? Are they treating you alright?"

Faith smiled a wry grin. "Yeah, they're ok. I don't see them much. Anya let me move into her extra bedroom, and isn't even charging me, which is saying a lot. She's pretty cool to hang with, too--lots of great stories. And I help at the shop during the day, so everyone's happy." Almost, but she didn't say that part out loud. She missed LA and the Hyperion more than she was willing to admit, and seeing Angel reminded her of 'home.' "Come on, let's go see what demon girl has for us."

The clang of the shop bell was met by a perky "Hello and welcome to the Magic Box, how may we… Oh. Never mind, it's the broody vampire. Hi Angel, Faith. Come spend some money while you're here." Anya was as perky and beautiful as ever. Angel had to laugh as she fished several amulets out of a counter and said, "Cordelia may like one of these, what do you say?"

"I say I'll think on it. Unfortunately this isn't a pleasure visit; I think Giles has some books for me, I was hoping he left them here."

"Well, you're out of luck. He has everything at the hospital with Jenny." With that remark, Anya's face sort of fell. Angel couldn't tell if it was due to Jenny being ill, or the existence of Jenny in general. Even he, emotionally blind as a bat, could tell Anya deeply cared for the Watcher, he just didn't know how. But it wasn't something he wanted to deal with just then, and it really wasn't his responsibility.

Anya flicked her eyes over the pendants spread out on the display counter, lazily tracing a deep red one with one perfect nail. She inhaled sharply and looked up. "Are you sure I can't interest you in anything while you're here?"

Smiling sadly, Angel shook his head. "Not this time, Anya, but pop on in sometime next week, I'm sure Cordy would love to see what you have. And to go shopping or something…" He trailed off and looked at Faith, inclining his head.

"So, hospital then, my dead friend?" Faith grabbed his arm and, with a wave to Anya, dragged him out of the door.

They faced Sunnydale General in the pale, wan lights of the entryway. Angel paused, shaking his head. He really didn't want to be here, he didn't want to run into Buffy, and he didn't want to see Jenny. He moved through the doors, Faith silent at his side, and made his way to the elevator banks.

Angel didn't really like being around sick people. Of course, never being legitimately sick meant that he didn't have to deal with that particularly often, but sickrooms still made him nervous. Give him something to kill any day. He understood where the long-departed Mayor was coming from; granted the man was a freak of un-nature, but he had a point about cleanliness. Or maybe it wasn't the germs themselves, but the weakness and pathetic nature of the terminally ill. The predator in him wanted to cull the weak from the herd, so to speak, and seeing someone like Jenny so debilitated made it hard to control the demon. He yearned to rip her throat out, finish what nature started. He took a deep unnecessary breath and entered the room.

Giles was sprawled in a blue pleather hospital recliner. His glasses dangled from his limp fingers, an open text on his lap. He looked like he hadn't changed clothes in days, his face a scruffy mess with bags so purple they looked bruised under his eyes. His mouth was slightly open as he snored lightly.

Jenny rested in the dark, a former shadow of herself. As her body was slowly dying, the light that made her uniquely Jenny was fading, swirling away into the gloom. Perhaps it was moving on to another plane, perhaps it was just disappearing. Regardless, she seemed to be withering away, until she would be nothing more than blips on a monitor.

"Giles," Faith said softly, touching the back of his hand. "Angel's here to pick up the books you promised." Blearily, Giles struggled up to a sitting position, cleaning his glasses.

"Oh, yes quite. Jenny, look, we have visitors." Jenny remained silent and unmoving. Angel's skin was crawling, little pinpricks of distaste. Unconsciously he edged towards the doorway once more. "Here you are, Angel, I hope they will be helpful. Do you know which idol you have?"

"Which idol?" Angel didn't like the sound of this at all.

"Yes, there's more than one, and they do different things. Two are listed in this book and the others in this one here. Best take them all, I don't need them right now…" He trailed off. He tiredly waved his hand in the direction of a pile of books on the floor, leaning against the hospital bed. Delicately, Angel inched forward to pick up the stack on the floor. As he bent down, Jenny sighed. Twitching, he bolted upright.

"Thanks, Giles, these'll be a great help. Wes appreciates this."

"Hmm? Yes, I hope so. Well, I… Are you awake, dear?" Giles leaned forward to brush a lock of hair from Jenny's sunken cheek. She didn't move. "She's awake sometimes. Now, time for Jell-o. You like strawberry Jell-o, don't you, my love." He turned to watch the dark pair move towards the doorway. The weight of his sadness nearly took their breath away. Angel and Faith fairly fled down the hall, the faint blipping of the monitors sliding after them down the polished hallway.

Angel sat safely in the refuge of his car, with Faith in Anya's bubbly care. He weighed the books in each hand, contemplating the etchings on the covers, trying to recover from the depressing horror of Jenny's hospital room. Nothing will happen tonight, I don't need to go to the mountain. I need Cordy, a little blood, and I'll be fine. He started up the engine once again and turned his car for home.

Chapter Six

Cordelia and Wesley walked side by side down the soggy LA streets. She wasn't sure if it was damp from some rain that she didn't know had happened, or something else. Dru, Baby and Spike ranged out in front of them, laughing and talking happily. Wes could see something was worrying at Cordy: her nose was scrunched to the side, as if she were thinking too hard.

"Wes?"

"Hmm?"

"You know yesterday, on the mountain, I think I heard you inside my head. I didn't think that was possible if we weren't touching. What happened?"

"I don't know, Cordelia, but I think the urgency of the situation stimulated perhaps latent abilities in the both of us. Would you like to try again, to see if we can hear each other when it's calmer?"

She nodded slowly and cocked her head to the side, as if listening. Can you hear me Cordy? Does this work? Wes received no reply, and Cordelia didn't seem to have heard. "Anything?"

She shook her head, "Nope. Not a whisper. Do you and Dru communicate this way often?"

Wes chuckled, "Perhaps more than any of you realize, though it often isn't in words. Images, thoughts, feelings mostly. It's very liberating," he quirked his eyebrows in a smile, "knowing what your partner wants. And not being able to hide." Dru turned briefly around ahead of them, and skipped a step or two before turning back to continue her conversation with Spike and Baby. Wes laughed. "She says they have something planned for you tonight, and not to be scared, but she won't tell me what. It appears that Baby and Spike are questioning her about it. Clever girl that she is, she won't let them find out."

Cordelia's thoughts drifted, What I wouldn't give to be able to read Angel, to finally hear what he thinks, not just what he says. God, what I wouldn't give for that! Her fingers fidgeted at the edges of her leather sleeves. "Wes, if you don't want to answer, don't . . . but what is it like to hunt with Baby and Spike? I know you must, you spend quite a bit of time down there with… what do they call it… the Pride? I mean, we hunt demons all the time, but it's a job, not a way of life. It's a little strange to be hunting with them tonight, I guess is what I'm saying." Cordelia looked almost nervous, and Wes tried not to laugh.

"Cordelia, it is truly one of the most intense experiences of my life. There's a fluidity, an almost organic movement to their hunt, that groups of humans could never replicate. It's poetry, song, dance, and deadly. Don't forget that Spike and his childer are truly hunters, in a way that Angel will never let himself be. You'll see for yourself tonight. Maybe we will hunt after our 'job' is taken care of, if they feel it is allowed. No, 'allowed' isn't right--perhaps 'appropriate.' Or if they're hungry enough."

"Baby wouldn't be hungry, would she? That seems an odd choice of words."

"Baby's hunger is something you probably can't relate to, Cordelia, but it is very real, as real as Spike's, though for different reasons." With that, Wes drew into himself. Cordy could feel the withdrawal as palpably as if he had stopped walking next to her altogether. His fingers clutched the broadax until his knuckles were white, and his posture became almost rigid.

"I'm sorry Wes, I didn't mean anything…" He relaxed a little and almost smiled in the brief light of a streetlight.

"It's ok. Perhaps we should catch up with the others, they seem excited about something."

The trio stopped under an overhanging awning, their faces shadowed from the weak glare. Both Spike and Dru sniffed the air, and Spike growled softly. "Around us now, ducks, they've seen us coming. Those lollygaggers better catch up, or they might be lunch. Ah, there you are then--are we ready, my dove?"

Baby grinned ferally and unslung her Beretta from the shoulder holster, holding a spike loosely in her other hand. Seeing Cordy's questioning look, she responded, "Won't kill, but sure will piss'em off. Nothing like hysteria for disorganizing the enemy."

"And enemy they are. The reports say a mobile nest of about eight or so--not a problem for the five of us, but no unnecessary risks. It's likely that they know we know they're following us, but it is best to lure this fight onto grounds we choose. There is an alley not far ahead with a fence across the back. If we wander in there, they may think we are trapped and be more reckless. Not that it will do them much good. And when everything is said and done, maybe we can have a little fun tonight?" At the end of Wes's little speech, Dru curled up under his arm, purring and caressing his cheek.

"Of course we shall have fun. Hunting the hunters, what lovely games." Dru's game face flickered beneath the surface, its delicate ridges almost visible, lights flashing like fireflies in the deep blue of her eyes.

As nonchalantly as possible, the fivesome walked slowly into the alley around the corner. The hairs on the back of Cordelia's neck stood straight up and she gripped her light sword tighter. Not that she wasn't well stocked with stakes and small bottles of holy water, but she had an almost compulsive need to prove herself tonight. She knew how much Spike and Baby valued the ability to fight, and this would be no ordinary fight. Cordy felt like she was auditioning for a role she desperately wanted. The thought spooked her enough that she was caught unawares by the first vampire down the alley. As he locked his arm around her neck she drew a stake from her belt and nailed him right in the eye. Roaring, he staggered back to Spike's catcall, "Nice move, cheerleader; the goal is to kill them not blind them to death!" Fine, she thought, way to start off the fight, make a fool of yourself. She turned and neatly decapitated the floundering vampire, but no one was watching any longer, having engaged their own opponents. In the moment following the creature's fizzle into dust, she stopped to watch her companions.

Wes was right, Spike and Baby were poetry in motion. Faint yellow light glanced off the blond tips of Spike's hair, haloing him in golden flames to match his eyes. Each move was perfectly placed, no waste of energy or motion. He was a joy to watch. Baby wore a face as fierce as her mate's, though hers had no ridges. With deadly accuracy, she fired a series of bullets into the most painful places, kneecaps and such, of her two opponents. When both fell almost simultaneously to the ground in agony, she calmly walked up and staked them through the heart. "Nice job love, smooth as butter," Spike called, and Baby fairly preened with praise.

Cordy was familiar with Wes and Dru, she had fought with them many times, but glanced their way anyway. Wes was coldly efficient, and the poor soul that faced him lost several fingers, one after another, then found himself gutted from stomach to sternum before Wes removed his head with one swing of his axe. After which, he turned to his lady, who was merely playing with her victim. She didn't fight so much as 'mess with' her opponent until he was snarling in frustration. Dru laughed in his crumbling face as Wes embedded a stake in him from behind.

By now, Cordy was fighting again, parrying blows with her sword, relishing the exercise. Thank goodness Angel finally took me seriously about training with this--it's wonderful! The fight didn't take much longer. The vampire gang had been woefully unprepared for the fight, thinking they were taking on just another soft bunch of business people. They were young and undisciplined, not even a decade old. It was almost pathetic.

When it was over, they dusted themselves off the best they could and gathered up the weapons. The action was finished, but the air was vibrating with pent-up energy. Drusilla drank it up like fine wine, humming a little tune. "Shall we dance, my Wesley? The others would like to come along with us. We shall have a wonderful romp, like the other night?"

Wes glanced at Spike and Baby, who were eyeing Cordelia somewhat cautiously. They were still itching for a fight, and would love to go hunting, but were not in the mood to hear complaints from Angel's consort. "Cordy, remember what we talked about before? We are going to go out. We can drop you by the Hyperion if you wish, or you may come with us."

Cordelia considered this as Dru, still humming, walked slowly over to her, palms outstretched. "Would you like to come, my dear? To see our world? To light up the sky with laughter and paint the stars with blood?" Dru reached Cordelia, still silent, and stroked her arm. She let featherweight thoughts drift over to Cordelia of the adrenaline of the hunt, the satisfaction of being with a pack. Cordelia sighed and took Drusilla's hands.

"I think I would like to see, Dru. You've showed me your world before, and kept me safe. You and Wes will do this again, will you not?" She was surprised at the almost formal tone she took. She didn't really have any idea what was happening, but she was pretty sure that Angel wouldn't like it very much. But he wasn't here, and if she went home, all she would do is fret about him and his trip to Sunnydale.

Baby laughed out loud, "Well, what're we waiting for then? Wes, lead on!" With a whoop, Spike slung her up in his arms and swirled her around. The little troop waltzed out of the alley into the night.

Chapter Seven

Her blood was singing, a dark symphony playing to her bones, floating her along. She felt so free it took her breath away. Walking arm and arm between Wes and Baby, Cordy tingled from the tips of her fingers to the newly electrified ends of her hair. The night air caressed her face and whispered midnight melodies as she tried to make sense of the world, turning so rapidly beneath her feet she felt sure she would spin off into space.

They were nearing the front doors of the Hyperion, and her reality loomed ahead. She didn't know how she was going to explain herself to Angel, what she had seen that night, and how she had felt. She knew the others were talking around her, but she couldn't hear what they thought, it was muddled. This was a new world she saw, and it was almost too dark to hear. A line from the 'Epiplectic Bicycle' if I'm not mistaken, she thought, Edward Gorey would have liked this world. I'll have to remember to ask Spike or Dru if they knew him.

In her mind's eye, she saw herself accepting Dru's invitation, trusting them completely, and being wholly unprepared for what followed. The hunt proceeded fairly normally at first, or at least normally to Cordelia. They haunted the alleyways and back streets of downtown LA, listening and watching, the vampires testing the air for disturbances and entertainment. They had only been walking about 20 minutes when suddenly Dru tensed.

"Do you smell that, like wine-spicy and warm? The hunted are afraid, the hunters are hungry. Let's go spoil their fun with some of ours shall we? Dancing over graves that will be?" She laughed a beautiful peal like a bell, and waltzed forward, sliding gently into game face. Spike followed suit and turned to Wes: "Your town, your lead." Wes nodded in acceptance and flowed after Dru, every bit as quiet as a vampire himself. Cordelia was impressed, and Baby whispered to her, "Seems at home, doesn't he? He never fails to impress me, one after my own heart." She grinned and pulled Cordy down the path after the others. Around the corner, they found three clueless kids surrounded by four less-clueless thugs, brandishing pipes and brass knuckles. They hadn't seen Wes and Dru sneaking around behind them, cutting off the escape at the other end of the passage.

Spike stepped out of the shadows, "Well, well, well, what have we here? A bunch of kiddies playing at being bad. You're really pretty pathetic, you know. No one but children would be afraid of you, which is probably why you picked this lot, eh? Nothing better to do besides scare the piss outta some stupid teenagers?"

The one who fancied himself the leader puffed out his chest. "What's it to you, we wasn't botherin' you none. So mind your own bidness and you won't get hurt." Spike laughed. With the whole gang turned his way, Baby beckoned the teens.

"You've been really stupid messing around out here at night. Go home and don't do something like this again," she hissed softly. The terrified kids nodded and fled down the alley, not looking back. By this time the thugs noticed the kids were gone, Baby and Cordelia stood in their place.

"Well, what do we have here? Ladies, would you like to meet Misters Think-too-much-of-themselves?" Spike sneered.

"Fuck you, man. What are you and some stupid chicks going to do, anyway? Girls can't fight." Baby laughed in their faces and drew her gun. Cordy brought her sword out of the shadows and grinned. Wes and Dru glided out of the shadows silent as death, blocking their way out of the alley. The crew shifted nervously. They weren't bright, most criminals aren't, and hadn't noticed the weapons most were carrying. And they certainly hadn't expected to see Dru's game face as she weaved slowly back and forth.

"What do you think, my dear? Who wins the lottery today?" Wes cooed, running his hand down her back, drawing her in for a deep kiss. She broke it reluctantly and looked directly at Cordelia.

"See with me," she said softly, and Cordelia found herself back in the almost-familiar dreamscape of Drusilla's mind. She thought she blinked as her vision swirled when Dru's mind touched each of the would-be muggers in a row. Faint purple fog, hesitancy, desperation, neediness, fear. Boredom, stupidity, endless gray. Angry red, burning flames, great hunger, rage burning up from the inside, hatred. Dead black, death, ending, hopelessness, emptiness. Gasping, Cordelia was back in herself. She looked around, the whites of her eyes showing. Everyone was watching her closely.

Wes smiled at her encouragingly. "Which is it my dear, you've seen them all Cordelia, now make a choice." Choice for what, she thought, and instantly knew the answer. A death sentence. She drew in a deep breath and walked up to the last two muggers, the leader first. "You have such hate inside. For what? You kill for solace, no regrets." She turned to the next in line. "You are dead already, merely going through the motions." The remaining two muggers looked at each other and backed slowly away.

Wes cleared a small path and Dru hissed at them as they slunk by. "Next time you may not be so lucky, but the stars are singing for you tonight." The youngest one, the one in the purple fog, looked almost ready to wet himself and began to cry, but no one noticed.

The circle of hunters drew closer, surrounding Angry and Dead. They were bristling with aggression, but couldn't seem to make a fight to leave. Spike sneered at them, "See where all this posturing got you, mates? It got you to dinner, but I don't think you'll see dessert." With a roar he sprang after them, startling them apart. Dead made a run for it down the alley, but Baby caught him in the back of the leg with a swift kick, spinning him around into Spike's arms.

Angry ran the other direction, past Wes and Dru, who left a little space between them. With a snarl, Dru dashed after him. Wes beckoned to Cordelia, who was watching with fascination as Baby worked Dead over with his own brass knuckles. She drifted over to him, as if in a dream. "Feel with me," he said, and touched her face, brushing her chocolate hair from her cheeks. "Hunt with us." Suddenly Cordelia could feel the heat, the passion that Wes was feeling, the itch to chase and catch. She smiled, showing teeth.

"I asked you to show me the world; what're we waiting for?" He grabbed her hand and they ran down the alley after Dru, just catching a glimpse of her around the corner, only feet away from Angry. Drusilla drove him into another alley across the street, and turned her head in time to catch the iron bar, perhaps a railing, that Wesley threw her direction. Wes and Cordy dashed across the street in the wan light of two sad streetlights, and skidded into the alley in time to see Angry raise his hands in defense. Dru laughed and slung the iron bar, pinning his wrists into the wall behind, a cruel imitation of crucifixion nails.

"Shall we taste, my love?" Wes whispered. Cordy could feel his longing, and love, and Dru's satisfaction. They turned as one and looked at Cordy, her breath rattling in her lungs, from emotion, not exhaustion. Angry turned terrified eyes in Cordy's direction, but she made no move to help. She had chosen him, she would see the consequences.

With an almost seductive click, Wes opened his switchblade. The air surrounding the foursome thickened with arousal, and Cordy watched in fascination as a calm Wesley made one cut after another into a terrified Angry, who was too shocked even to scream. Dru hummed and moaned in happiness as he dipped his fingers in the man's blood, touching them to Drusilla's lips. She lowered her head to the cuts on Angry's neck, lapping delicately, and Cordy found herself amazed at how erotic it all was. Dru was making little mews of contentment as Wes caressed her and kissed her neck as she fed, his eyes finding Cordy's. She knew she should be shocked, she should stop this, she should call out. But she couldn't, or wouldn't. This just seemed right, but she couldn't tell if this was her emotions or theirs--they seemed to have intertwined somehow.

When Angry was drained and merely an empty shell of himself, she couldn't believe it was over. Not even after Baby and Spike found them, their hands all over each other, and suggested they retire somewhere more comfortable. The ride to the hotel was a blur, and now she found herself looking at the lobby doors, moving through them, unseeing, and watching Spike and Baby collapse on the couch, hands busily ridding themselves of clothing.

Cordelia just stood there, like a Cordelia-shaped tree, watching as Baby's hand snuck out and pulled Wes down to their level, kissing him with an open mouth, as Wes helped Spike free his belt buckle.

Dru's voice and cool breath sounded in her ear, "A family that hunts together plays together, my dear; would you like to join us?" Cordy gasped and turned as Dru's hand traced the back of her neck under her heavy hair, pulling her forward, resting her smooth forehead against Cordy's cheek. The three on the couch turned as one to look at her, and something clicked deep inside her.

"Yes," she breathed, soft enough that only vampire ears could hear. "This is what we could be… a family, a force unstoppable. We could bring whole worlds to their knees."

Dru smiled, "So you see…" but was cut of by Cordelia turning completely to her, and catching her mouth in a passionate kiss. Dru purred and led her to the couch, sinking on the floor beside Wes, who reached up and pulled Cordy down to him, his eyes shining fiercely. "Yes, you do see, don't you," as he ran his fingers down the curve of her back, tracing reassurances as Cordy tentatively reached out her hand to Baby.

CRASH! The five started up from the couch like they were wound from springs, looking over to the doorway, where Angel stood, a pile of books littered around his feet, his face a study in shock and outrage.

Wes stood to face him calmly, Dru at his side. Cordy remained kneeling on the floor, and Baby and Spike moved not one further unclothed inch. Cordy thought that it looked like Angel would have a heart attack, if it were possible. He flowed down the stairs, and punched Wes square in the face.

"What are you doing with my wife," he snarled. Wes wiped his mouth, and Dru calmly licked the blood from his fingers. Angel drew his hand back again, only to find his fist wrapped in Cordelia's hand. She stood tall and elegant between him and Wesley. Wes smiled and stepped back a few feet.

Cordelia's eyes were blazing. Angel almost looked chagrined, but snarled again. "What is going on here? I leave for an afternoon to find you making out with… them," he hissed as he waved his hand at the bunch near, and on the couch.

"Angel. I expected more out of you. This is what you've been hiding from me? How to hunt and live like a family? They did nothing I didn't ask for, they showed me their world. And you know what? I liked it. Well, perhaps that's a bit strong for right now, but it was definitely an eye-opener. The community, the connection, the family. We could be that family. But you hid it from me."

Angel looked at her in shock for a moment and shifted into game face. Fangs bared, he ground out, "Is this what you want? The violence, the blood, the demon?"

Cordelia smiled a wisp of a smile and, stepping forward, drew her finger over Angel's incisors. She leaned in and breathed in his ear, "I am a demon, Angel, and so are you." She wiped the blood from her finger across his lips and stepped back.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking tonight. About what happened when Baby first came to visit. I had to find out from your… claim of her, what should have been between us. You said sex with her was for the betterment of the House of Aurelius. Fine, I bought that. You were a vampire, you did things like that. But you haven't honored that commitment. You kept me away from that kind of life. What are we? If it was just business, then we should be living that life; if not, then you betrayed me. So Angel, which is it? Are you the head of the House of Aurelius, and I your consort, or did you screw her because you wanted to?"

The room was still with shock. Baby looked miserable, Spike looked interested, and Dru was so enraptured in the emotions and timelines crossing her mind, that she didn't even seem a part of this world. Wes held her gently in his arms as she swayed back and forth. He could feel the riot in her mind, how she was almost drowning in the feelings swirling around the room, trying to see her way through it all.

Angel was frozen. His eyes flicked over to the couch, where he could see the hint of Baby's breasts peeking out of the disarrayed blouse. In the cool half-light, he could see the claim mark on the side of her neck, calling to him. His eyes met Baby's and he knew she knew. That it was no accident, and he wanted Baby more than anything that night. He also knew she knew that knowledge would kill Cordelia, and perhaps the tentative bonds rebuilding this family. His gaze shifted to his consort's face. It was stony and desperate all at once. She wanted to believe. Angel's demon sighed in relief.

He licked the blood off his lips and drew Cordy to him. "How's this for an answer?" He delicately slid his fangs into the consort mark as Cordelia melted with pleasure and leaned against him. The tension began to leave the room, and the air lightened, shattering to the sound of a scream.

For the second time that night, the group in the foyer jumped in surprise. Fred and Gunn stood in the doorway. Gunn had a crossbow leveled at Angel. "Angelus."

Angel jumped back, his game face fading away to leave a very confused Angel in its place. "What? No! We were just having a little discussion… and things got, well, you know… marital discussions and all that."

"So you decided to drink from Cordy? Not likely. Get out of the way, Cordelia, and give me a clear shot." Cordelia shook her head to clear it and took a step closer to her husband.

"Wait, Gunn, he's telling the truth. We had a… disagreement. See, no one else is upset." Gunn looked at the disarrayed group in various levels of undress. Everyone looked reasonably calm, except Drusilla, who shot out of Wesley's arms.

Gunn pointed at Dru. "What about her?"

Dru's anguished cry of "Connor!" echoed through the lobby, as she, with Wes in hot pursuit, dashed across the lobby to the office.

Chapter Eight

The night shone around the edges of the drapes. Connor could hear the noises passing by outside his window--cars, people, even pigeons and wind. He made a game of guessing each sound, and imagining what it looked like. Is that car red or green? Can you hear green? It sounded like a sports car, roaring down the city street. He could also hear Lorne snoring softly away in the chair across the room. Lorne took his babysitting duties seriously, and remained with Connor until his parents came home. Unfortunately, he could rarely remain awake the whole time, and spent some quality snore time in the cushy leather chair.

Connor tossed and turned, unable to fall back asleep. He wasn't sure what woke him up; it could have been one of those fascinating noises outside. Regardless, he was awake, and kind of hungry. Moving as silently as only little boys can, he slid out of the covers and crept softly by Lorne, watching his eyes flicker under their green lids. He turned to shut the door with a soft click. Gliding down the hallway, he listened for the rest of his extended family. No one seemed to be home, and he knew Dru must not be around or she would be watching him from the shadows, still as a statue.

He padded across the darkened lobby past the office and down the hall to the kitchen. Sandwich or some cereal? He looked around. No one here to tell me not to use a knife, is there? I'm big enough to make my own sandwich, if they'd let me, he huffed. He took some bread out of the cupboard and some tomatoes from the basket. The luncheon meat was already cut and he layered some turkey on top of some pepper jack. Standing on a stool for better leverage, he grasped the tomato in his small hands, the drops of water on the tomato glinting in the almost-light. He hadn't turned any lights on in case his parents came home; he wasn't supposed to be out of bed.

He readied the tomato and grasped the knife. Cut, cut, cut- one slice. Cut, cut, cut- two slices. One more should do it. He readied his hands again. Cut, cut - CRASH! Connor jumped at the sound from the lobby and the knife slid smoothly into his thumb. The cut wasn't deep, or long, and didn't bleed much. He wiped the blood off onto a towel, listening to the noises in the lobby. Dad must be home. He sounds pissed, and it sounds like everyone else is there.

With the sandwich fixed and the knife floating in a tub of soapy water to be cleaned later, Connor and his sandwich crept to the doorway. They were yelling about something he didn't really understand, but he did understand that they were occupied and wouldn't be watching for him. Now would be a perfect time to get a better look at that cool statue, he thought.

Silent as a shadow, he crept around the doorjamb and through the slightly open office door. The yelling seemed to have stopped in the lobby, but he could still hear voices talking. He could see just fine from what light came through the big picture window. The statue was where he had last seen it--the edge of the desk, faintly glimmering a steel gray. Connor put his sandwich on the chair and clambered up after it. His thumb started to bleed again, and he licked the blood drops off. This is so cool! I wonder what it's a statue of; it looks gross. Wonder if Dad would let me go see it, if they caught one. Connor shook his head: not likely. He never lets me do anything fun.

He leaned forward to grasp the idol to pull it closer when he heard Drusilla scream his name. In his fright, he knocked his thumb against one of the idol's arms, pushing it away. He didn't notice that three drops of blood dripped from the newly reopened cut to land on one upturned claw. Scrambling, he thudded off his chair and ran for the doorway, only to come face-to-face with a terrified Drusilla, her consort not far behind.

Dru swept him up in her arms, her eyes peering into his thoughts; he could feel the anxiety rolling off her. Wes grabbed his hands, searching.

"What did I do? I swear, I didn't mean to do anything! I just wanted to look, and I didn't think anyone would know!" Connor was shaking now. Wes and Dru hadn't said anything yet and he could hear the others running across the lobby.

"Connor, listen closely," Wes said. "Did you touch anything? Anything at all?"

Connor shook his head. "I don't know, I don't remember!"

Dru stiffened and gasped. "He did, the lamb has doomed us all." She began backing out of the office. Connor twisted around in her arms, craning his neck to see what had frightened his seemingly imperturbable aunt and uncle.

The few drops of blood on the idol's arm had begun to glow. Out of the shine slowly condensed a series of massive shapes, exactly the same as the idol itself. Gleaming of metal, with several claws, a long sting-tipped tail, and swirling opalescent eyes, the creatures shimmered out of the air, slowly becoming solid before their eyes. Dru moaned softly and turned to run.

"Angel!" Wes called. "Hide Connor!" With that, Drusilla launched the boy into Angel's waiting arms then turned back to the monsters. Wes had grabbed one of the axes that they had dropped in the lobby earlier that evening, and took a swing at the first demon that crashed through the doorway, ripping away the frame. The axe bounced off the carapace as if made of rubber; Wes was stunned. Drusilla hissed and began dragging him backwards.

"They want you, my Wesley; I can't let them have you!" They backed into the crowd in the lobby, minus Angel and Connor. Baby had drawn her Berretta and fired several shots at the demon, to no effect. The shots deflected into the walls and the demon reached forward with one great claw and clasped Wes by the arm. He struggled, thrashing, as Drusilla tried to pry the claw open. Without warning, the tail whipped around, burying the stinger deep into Wes's stomach.

By this time, several other demons emerged from the office and the lobby was in chaos. None of the weapons seemed to have any effect, despite everyone's best attempts. Everyone turned to the couple closest to the office at Drusilla's inhuman scream. She was fully vamped out and clawing at the beast currently pinning Wesley underneath it. The demon knocked her away, but when she came flying back, her hair a black halo swinging, the giant scorpion raised one rear leg and speared her through the stomach, pinning her to the floor next to her consort.

Wesley's eyes had glazed over and he seemed unable to move. Dru was reduced to whimpering, twisting herself around the leg in order to touch Wes, gently running her fingers across his cheek. "I am so sorry, my love. I should have seen. I am so sorry." He didn't answer.

She watched in horror as a long cylindrical appendage grew from beneath the abdomen of the demon. Two claws held Wes's head as a third forced his mouth open to accommodate the tube. His body began to convulse as thin fluid was forced into his stomach, the claws holding him li