“So, do you think so?” Gunn asked impatiently.

Cordelia sat next to him on the back stairs of the Hyperion, staring into space. “Sure…”

Glancing at her sideways he nodded happily. “Great. Then once you’ve moved that stereo equipment into my room, you can work on getting me this king size bed I’ve been eyeing in room 212. I think I want it facing the window, you know, to get the morning light.” He grinned. “Makes waking up easier.”

“Sounds good…” She blinked at him suddenly. “Wait, what?”

“There she is,” he shook his head. “You’re lucky. A little more and I’d have had you recarpeting my room, too.”

She brushed a tired hand across even more weary eyes. “Sorry…I was spacing.”

“Guess I’m not the riveting conversationalist I thought. Lot on your mind?”

Her thoughts turned to Angel and his strange behavior in the basement a few minutes earlier. “You could say that.”

“Anything you’re wanting to share? I do real well with Red Shoe Diaries scenarios if you need an ear to pull,” he grinned knowingly.

She smirked. “Hardly. And no, sorry. Nothing I’m ready to start a gabfest over. I’m just ready for things to be back to normal.”

Gunn glanced in her direction, then swept his eyes over the lobby. “Other than the extra bodies around here you’ve got pending apocalypse and trouble with some lawyers. Seems pretty normal to me.”

“You know what I mean.”

“One too many high school chums in the mix?”

Cordelia shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s even that. I just…woah.”

Gunn peered at her as Cordelia’s gaze went far away and her hand gripped the edge of the step for balance. “Vision?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “And it's about damned time. All this crap going down and they can't send me one little technicolor...oh, wow. Demons…cave. Looks like…our favorite lawyer. Lilah. Performing a ceremony of some kind.”

“Like the one going down tonight?”

“I think so,” she nodded, drinking in the details as fast as she could. “Spike and some other guys, all in robes. Not like the Bringers, though. These are more…fashionable instead of monk-like. Headdresses and everything. They’re chanting and…” She gasped suddenly, bringing her hand to her mouth and Gunn moved up off the step he had been sitting on.

“What?”

“The Gy-ra. I see it,” she moaned, then blinked suddenly, coming back to the present. Letting out a shaky breath she turned to Gunn. “Oh…boy.”

*~*~*

“Once we make it inside here,” Buffy pointed to a spot on the blueprints Wesley had provided them earlier, “we should be able to split up into three groups. If we surround the area the better chance we have of segregating Spike from the lawyers.”

“The ritual calls for the Order of Fevticat to be present for the raising,” Giles added. “More than likely they’ll be positioned here, here, and here, leaving the North position open for Spike.”

She nodded with a sigh. “Now wouldn’t it be helpful if we knew exactly where they’d be performing tonight? I’d tell everyone to start looking in clubs and on the stage, but somehow I don’t think it’ll be that public.”

He murmured in agreement and bent over the blueprints of the law firm again. “It could be anywhere,” he agreed reluctantly. “And with so little to go on, we don’t stand much of a chance if we can’t pinpoint a location.”

She nodded and they moved away from the blueprints to the bags of weapons Angel and Gunn had brought to them earlier. “Well, we have these. Quite the supply.” Steadily they began lying them out on the table before them.

“It’ll be dark in a few hours,” Buffy told Giles a moment later as they sifted through the assortment of weapons. “Are we going to be ready for this?”

Giles gave an absent jerk of his shoulder. “You’re going to go up against something whose name means ‘absolute.’ As in ‘absolute evil.’ It’s difficult to say.”

“We’re not going to let it get that far,” she assured him sternly. “I won’t let these lawyers or whoever convince Spike he’s evil at heart. He’s not, Giles. I’ve seen good in him.”

Though he had his sincere doubts, Giles nodded. “If you succeed in stopping them from raising Gy-ra, then yes, we have an excellent chance of getting Spike out of there. But Buffy, I’ve shown you the research, the facts we’ve come up with on this creature. It’s formidable, at best.”

Buffy glanced at her friends, some of whom were wearily researching with Regina, others who had gathered for a snack on a group of couches. “This is the big show, Giles,” she told him quietly as she stacked weapons on the table. “We have to get him out of there before real damage can be done. They’ve faced apocalypse before.”

“At the hand of one of their own,” he nodded, “reluctant as I am to consider Spike one of our own.” He put down the dagger he’d been holding and looked at his Slayer seriously. “It’s not them I’m so worried about, Buffy.”

She glanced in his direction. “I’m fine.”

“Yes, for now. I know that you have feelings for Spike. I don’t pretend to understand them, nor will I say I approve. But,” he sighed at her look of reproach, “that isn’t for me to judge. If you can’t stop Spike, Buffy, you know you’ll have to kill him.”

She studied the sword in her hand. “I know.”

Placing a hand on the sword he lowered it and her hand until she dragged her eyes up to his. “Do you, really?” he asked her quietly. “This isn’t a maybe situation, Buffy. Spike could potentially unleash the worst hell on earth we’ve seen, worse than anything you’ve faced before if the information we’ve received is correct. I’m sorry to chastise, but I want to know that you’ve considered the seriousness of this event. If Spike manages to raise the Gy-ra that’s only the beginning. Its arrival will be calling to every demon in the world to migrate to Los Angeles.”

“I know, Giles,” Buffy told him. “That’s why we won’t let it get to that point. We’re going to stop the Gy-ra from showing up, then we’re going to get Spike out of lawyer hell, and then, possibly after a good night’s sleep, we’re going to stop the Harbingers.” Her tone was one of mild annoyance and he took her meaning.

“I realize you’ve a lot on your plate,” he began regretfully. “I don’t mean to burden you with a lecture.”

“You’re not. You’re concerned. You should be,” she insisted. “We can’t worry about everything at once, but somehow we’re going to have to. The Harbingers are just gearing up for another attack on us, I can feel it.”

Resigned, Giles nodded. “Between you and Faith you should be able to handle a few of them, if their numbers remain as they have in your dreams.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “If I knew where Faith was, you mean.”

“Still no sign of her?”

“’Fraid not. Angel keeps telling me she’s going to show up but…”

“From past experience you’re skeptical. Entirely reasonable,” he assured her. Glancing down at the stacks of weapons they’d finished putting out he gave her shoulder a squeeze. “That’s enough of a lecture for tonight, don’t you think? Why don’t you get some rest before we head out?”

“Like I could sleep, anyway,” she shrugged. “But I might take Angel up on his offer to train in the basement. If Cordy’s done down there, anyway.”

“Just don’t tire yourself,” he suggested with a fatherly tone.

She smiled at him. “Don’t worry.”

Giles returned her affectionate grin. “As if I couldn’t.”

“I’m afraid worry might be called for,” Wesley informed them as he approached from behind. Buffy and Giles turned to face him.

“What do you mean?” Buffy asked.

Wesley grimaced. “I’ve recently discovered some information…about the Harbingers. And Wolfram and Hart.”

“A connection?” Giles asked, interest peaked.

Wes nodded. “Unfortunately. It seems that our friends at Wolfram and Hart have been helping the First in its struggle to eliminate the Slayer line. They know you’re here, obviously, Buffy. And they know Faith is with us. In addition to attempting to raise Gy-ra and bring about apocalypse, I’m afraid they also have a hand in this as well.”

Buffy’s lips formed a thin line as she frowned. “How exactly have they been helping the First?”

Wesley took a seat, wearily, on a nearby couch. “I’m not entirely sure, but from what I can determine Wolfram and Hart are providing them with the whereabouts of each potential, and current, Slayer.”

“Shouldn’t the First just…know where they are? Isn’t that part of the deal with being a supreme evil?” she wanted to know.

He nodded. “I think the First is allowing Wolfram and Hart to handle this part of its plan while it itself concentrates on the pending destruction of the world.”

“And turning Spike,” Giles added.

“We need to let the others know. And we need to find Faith,” Buffy insisted. “She’s got to be here somewhere, and here just got a whole lot less safe.”

“Should Wolfram and Hart decide to step in and move up the hunt on you two,” Wesley told her, “things may get a lot more sticky. The Harbingers aren’t quite as stealthy as the humans working for the law firm.”

“They could be anyone,” she agreed. “Any Joe on the street could be working for them.”

“Exactly.”

“We’ll get Willow on it, too, then,” she decided. “Protection spells on the hotel, alarms in case anyone tries to enter.”

“Assuming they’re not already here,” Giles added thoughtfully.

Buffy hadn’t considered that. “You’re right. This place is massive.”

“Perhaps a spell is the right line of thinking,” Wesley mused. “To search out evil on the premises. Rather than do a room by room hunt, which would more than likely be a waste of time, Willow could use her skills to hone in on evil energy within these walls.”

“Perfect. We’ll start there. And tonight,” she told them seriously, “this ends. I just wish we knew where it ended.”

“Wolfram and Hart,” Cordelia told her briskly as she and Gunn strode to the threesome. “Underneath, and a little ways down in some tunnels not on these blueprints.”

“How do you know?” Buffy asked skeptically, pulling out the diagrams once again and running a hand over them. “What tunnels?”

Cordelia gave her a sharp look. “They’re there, trust me. Erased from the city planners’ copies, I’m sure. That’s their style. Lilah would see to it.”

“You had a vision,” Wesley guessed. “What did you see?”

She turned to him. “Demons. The ritual, going down, right underneath this place,” she said, thumping the blueprints on the table. “Some guys in brightly colored robes and bad hats. And Spike, Lilah... Everyone accounted for.” She paused, glancing at Buffy. “I saw the Gy-ra.”

Buffy swallowed. “And?”

Cordelia took a look at the weapons on the tables next to them. “This isn’t going to do it,” she told Buffy simply, then added hopefully. “Do we have a tank?”

*~*~*

Angel closed the door to his room behind him and headed down the hallway in search of Cordelia. The word ‘confused’ didn’t even begin to register with him anymore. Cordelia, Buffy. Buffy, Cordelia. It used to be so much simpler when he lived on the streets and avoided contact with anyone…

It wasn’t a choice, really. It was Buffy. It would always be her, even if in some dark, secluded corner of his addled mind, it would forever be Buffy. But discussing it with Cordy…

A rustling behind him perked up his ears and he glanced back. Seeing nothing he shrugged and continued down the hall, but vampire senses wouldn’t let it go. As he walked he trained his thoughts on the sounds and smells around him until he picked up a scent. A familiar scent.

It smelled like…

“Dawn?” he called suddenly, turning. “Are you there?”

No answer. But nothing else in this hotel smelled like baby powder perfume and watermelon gum.

“Dawn?” he called again, heading back down the hallway a few steps. The soft click of a door latch just a few rooms down signaled her presence. Stopping in front of the room he knocked. “Dawn? It’s Angel. Are you okay?”

A second later the door opened and the glaring blue eyes of the youngest Summers looked back at him. “Yes?” she asked witheringly.

Angel glanced into the dark and shabby hotel room. “Uh…what are you doing?”

“I was…I thought I heard something in here.”

He glanced at her dubiously. “So you decided to investigate on your own? In the dark?”

She threw a backward look into the room, guiltily. “Uh… Yes,” she told him, folding her arms over her chest. “You know. So I could surprise whatever’s…in here.”

He pushed the door open farther and flipped on the light switch. A lamp that had seen better days circa 1975 flickered on to reveal nothing but garish furniture. “Other than some of the world’s ugliest furniture, I’d say you’re the only thing in here.”

She glared at him again and stepped into the hall. “Well. You’re welcome anyway for watching out for your hotel.”

Angel turned off the lamp and closed the door, walking after her. “Uh…sure. Hey, sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to offend you. I appreciate you being alert.”

“I’m watching everything that goes on here,” she assured him and her tone caught him off guard.

“Well, that’s good. I bet…I bet you’re real helpful to have around. You know, for Buffy,” he said awkwardly. How did you talk to a sixteen-year-old girl these days? Especially this sixteen year old girl?

“Oh, Buffy,” Dawn rolled her eyes. “I’m surprised you even remember her name.”

Angel did a double take. “What?”

“Just with all that’s going on, with all the people in your life,” she said pointedly, “it must take a lot to remember Buffy.”

“Did I miss something?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she sniffed primly as they headed downstairs. “I’m simply discussing with you how many people are in your life now. I mean, there’s Gunn, and Fred, Wesley, Lorne… Cordelia.”

“Uh…yeah. We all work together, just like you, and Xander, and Willow,” he said stupidly. What was she talking about?

“You’ve known Cordelia the longest, I guess, then right?”

“Yeah…then Wesley after her, I suppose. Since Sunnydale.”

“Yeah. Since you were with Buffy. It’s nice have friends like that.”

“Like Cordelia? Yeah…it is.” He stared at the brunette in front of him. “Is there something you wanted to talk about?”

She arched an eyebrow and Angel suddenly flashed back to every single argument he’d had with Buffy. Somehow he didn’t think Dawn would appreciate his noting the similarities in the two sisters. “Like what?”

“I honestly have no idea,” he admitted cautiously.

“Well, that’s completely obvious.” With that she spun on her heel and began walking away before turning back suddenly. “Oh, and don’t forget what I said, Angel. I’m watching everything that goes on here.”

He nodded dumbly. “Sure. Okay. Uh… Have you seen Cordelia, then? She and I need to…I... I need to talk--”

“God! Is that all you can think about?!” she cried suddenly, stomping back over to him.

Angel’s patience was beginning to wear thin. Another similarity when fighting with the Summers girls. “Okay, what?”

“If you want to know where Cordelia is, you’ll just have to--”

“You guys,” Willow said breathlessly, striding to them. “Buffy needs us. We’ve got more information on the Gy-ra.”

Angel cast one more curious glance at Dawn before giving Willow his full attention. “What’s going on?”

“Cordelia had a vision,” Willow told him.

“So?” Dawn asked, hands on hips.

Willow glanced at her strangely. “She saw the ritual for tonight. She knows where we need to go.”

Dawn’s mouth clamped shut. “Oh. Well…okay, then.”

Willow’s head ticked toward the group assembling on the other side of the room. “We’re getting the game plan together.”

“Good,” Angel nodded. “It’ll be dark soon.”

Willow nodded in agreement and moved past them before turning suddenly. “Oh, and have either of you two seen Faith?”

“Not since last night,” Angel told her.

The witch frowned. “Um…okay. Excuse me while I chicken out, but I leave that bit of information to you to tell Buffy.”

“Where are you going?” Dawn called as the witch climbed the stairs.

“Magic supplies,” she was informed. “Big time mojo to go along with super-strength tonight.”

“Can I help? What can I do?”

“Sure,” Willow called. “Cordelia needs help mapping out some stuff. She’s in the office.” With that she was gone, around the corner to her room.

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Oh, goodie,” she muttered.

Chapter Thirty-Three
Back
Home