MacLoud reached out to one of the display cases. His sword was out of reach, but the katana he had in his hand would work just fine. MacLoud angled the blade on the other Immortal's throat. Draken had enough intelligence to back away from Joe.
MacLoud asked, "What do you want?"
Draken smiled and answered with a fiendish smile, "What every sensible person wants MacLoud. Power." With that he walked out of the shop.
Draken was about to meet the lovely Cordelia in about half an hour, but he had something important to do right now. He rode the elevator to the penthouse floor of the skyscraper he owned. He had made the fair kill last night so no one could guess his game.
Draken entered his large office. He sensed the presence of another Immortal. He closed his eyes and savored it. Several heavily armed mortals saluted him as he walked past.
There was a chair in front of his antique desk, and hand cuffed to the chair was another Immortal. He struggled as he saw Draken. Draken smiled, his charming Shakespearian beauty would understand if he was late.
Cordelia looked hot, Draken wouldn't mind if she was a few minutes late when he saw her. She was wearing a tight red dress, cut to enhance all of her charms. She opened her purse and pulled out her compact. She checked her makeup, and it was perfect. "Nothing could improve your beauty my Shakespearian lady," Drake said behind her.
Cordy looked up at him, charmed all over again. He looked great, dressed in a black silk shirt, black leather pants and black trench coat. His ash blond hair hung rakishly (rakishly, she had been hanging around Angel and Giles too long) over his brilliant blue eyes. He reminded her of a rugged Leo a little bit.
She smiled and indicated the seat across from her. She said, "Well Drake, sit down and tell me about yourself."
Drake smilingly sat down and said, "Well sweeting, there really isn't much to tell."
"Oh, come on, you probably have lots of deep, dark secrets, I do," Cordelia flirted.
Drake smiled at her and flirted back, "You're too young to have any deep, dark secrets."
"What do you know about age?" she teased.
"A lot my sweet," he replied.
"And he also knows a lot about beheadings." Cordy groaned as she turned to see Angel glowering protectively over her. She muttered, "Damn it!"
Angel was about five seconds from picking Cordelia up and rushing out of the night club. It was the Immortal. The blond smiled lazily at him and took Cordelia's hand. He said, "Cordelia's with me. I'm sure there is some other girl you could find."
Angel said, "Draken, I know what you are. Let the girl go and we'll go outside."
Draken stood up, bringing Cordelia with him. The Immortal wrapped his arms around Angel's sidekick, Angel's friend, as much as he hated to admit it. Draken smiled at him, recognition dawning in his ice blue eyes. He said, "Ah yes, you saw me behead Markus. You have no idea what I am, mortal. So just run home and live to see another sunrise."
Angel grinned a little as he replied, "Well, you have no idea who I am, either."
Cordelia looked from both men, obviously confused. She asked, "What the hell is going on Drake, Angel?"
Angel answered, "Don't worry Cordelia, I won't let this son of a bitch hurt you. I swear it."
"What?" was Cordelia's shrill reply.
Angel answered, "This bastard beheaded a man last night. And he's as human as I am, Cordelia."
Angel was glad that he had trailed Cordelia. He had a hunch that the Immortal was with Cordelia. Angel read a short passage in that book about Draken. He was like Angelus, Angel's alter ego, destructive, sadistic, power hungry, and evil.
Draken said, "Oh, I'm way beyond your comprehension, mortal. And the girl is mine."
Cordelia had the sense to struggle now, and she managed to slip out of the Immortal's grip. Draken just grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm behind her back.
Then Draken was still. His head whipped around looking for something. Angel saw Duncan MacLoud standing behind the Immortal with two other men. One was tall, big, middle aged with silver hair and beard and he held a cane. With the natural sense that came to vampires to know the week and the sick, Angel sensed that both of his legs where missing from the knee down. The other one was slightly shorter than MacLoud and had shaggy black hair.
Draken then wrapped his other arm around Cordelia's neck, holding her in a way that was all too familiar to Angel. The hold was one that could be used to break someone's neck. Cordelia whimpered. Angel straitened to his full leanth, felling the beginnings of the change upon him.
Draken sneered, "MacLoud this doesn't concern you." Then he turned his back on Angel to face the others. Bad move. Angel moved faster than the human eye could follow.
Angel grabbed the Immortal by the hair and jerked him toward him. Cordelia screamed. Then the silvery sheen of a blade snaked out toward both Angel and Draken. Draken took one look at MacLoud and ran, grabbing Cordelia with him. Angel snarled and began to take off after them.
He would have made it except for the katana and broadsword blades angled at his throat. Helpless, MacLoud and the shorter one lead Angel outside.
Angel looked at both of them as they angled their swords away from him. He stuffed his hands into his jean's pockets and asked, "What the Hell do you want?"
MacLoud answered, "We won't let you hurt that girl."
Angel frowned at him. The older looking one said, "MacLoud you better act quick so you can get Draken. You better be right about this guy."
Angel asked, "Well shopkeeper, what is it?"
The one welding the broadsword answered, "Well Vampire, you were gonna make a meal out of that girl."
Angel glowered at him and began to make his way past them. He was ready to fight if one of them came at him. As he was walking away, he snapped, "Don't be ridiculous, vampires don't exist."
"Then tell me Angelus O' Rourke, who killed your family and how come you've been alive for almost three centuries," MacLoud called after him.
Angel froze. The painting, he had researched the painting. MacLoud went on, "The painting was what gave it away, O' Rourke."
Angel spun around to face him. He felt his face beginning to change. He snarled, "You bastard, Angelus O' Rourke has been dead for almost 244 years."
It felt odd to Angel being called by his Christian name, the name he had when he was still breathing. O' Rourke had died when Darla bit Angel, as Angelus, the Scourge of Europe had died when the Kalderdesh had cursed him, as Angel had died when the curse was lifted off of him, and when he was sent to Hell by the woman he loved. Still loved and would love for all eternity. Death and pain where his means of existence, but he wasn't about to let this boy scout bring that up.
The broadsword guy exclaimed, "See MacLoud, I told you vampires where real!"
Angel said to MacLoud, "Well, since you're not a vampire, exsplane how you've been alive for over 400 years."
MacLoud's mouth dropped. Angel's characteristic half smile formed as he replied, "The book you had misplaced was your downfall, Highlander."
Then he turned, slightly sniffing the air for Draken's sent. He had to track him before his trail became too cold. He said, "I have to go find Draken before I loose one of my few friends."
A phone rang, the crippled one reached into his coat and pulled out a cell phone. He answered it saying, "Dawson, what is it?"
Then the rest of Dawson's conversation was: "Yeah." "You're sure?" "He what?" "Draken, you're sure Wynn?" "Are you sure it was an Immortal?" "Yeah, I'll tell em'." "Is he after MacLoud?" "Did you see a girl with him? Tall, very good looking, long dark hair wareing a red dress. You saw her, you sure he's not going to hurt her?" Then Dawson became angry, "Watch the son of a bitch then. See if he's gonna follow this pattern." Then calmed down slightly, Dawson said, "Okay then. Bye." Then he slid the cell phone back into his jacket.
Angel looked at him as MacLoud asked, "What is it?"
Dawson sighed and answered, "Draken killed another Immortal. He had a clip of ammo pumped into him before Draken beheaded him. He's taking the girl."
"Damn it," Angel cursed. He turned back around before he lost his temper and did something he might regret. He started to walk out of the ally when a hand caught his elbow.
MacLoud spun him around and told him, "We need to talk, O' Rourke."
Angel looked down at MacLoud's hand and back into MacLoud's eyes. Anyone else would have let Angel go with the look he gave MacLoud, but MacLoud held him still. Angel relaxed and said, "All right then Highlander, lets talk."
MacLoud felt odd having O' Rourke, a vampire, in his apartment. Methos looked at MacLoud, grinned and shrugged. Joe looked confused, and well the vampire was pissed. O' Rourke stood in the darkest place in the room, almost hidden completely in the shadows.
O' Rourke said, "Well, you said we need to talk, so lets talk."
MacLoud replied, "Well O' Rourke, what did you see that night?"
O' Rourke glowered at MacLoud and answered, "It's Angel. Not O' Rourke, just Angel. I heard something in an ally, and I saw Draken behead an older looking guy. Then, what you call a Quickening, happened. Lightning every where. So Highlander, what are you?"
Methos answered, "MacLoud, Draken, and I are Immortals. We cannot die unless we are beheaded. We've been around for as long as man. We fight in combat to the death till there is only one."
Angel shook his head and asked, "I know that. But what are you? Demon or something else completely? And who are your friends MacLoud?"
MacLoud pointed to Methos and Joe, introducing both of them in turn, but leaving out the part that Methos was the oldest known Immortal. Then he asked, "What do you mean by demons?"
Angel leaned against the wall, now completely hidden in the darkness. Then he immerged from the shadows, circling all three of them. Angel answered, "Demons, ancient evil beings, spawns from Hell. They walk the earth wanting to rid it of the plague of humanity."
MacLoud knew about demons, remembering Arhiman. Methos said, "And let me guess, I bet that you've met a few, right?"
Angel half smiled and replied, "You can say that." Then he frowned, thinking out loud, "But then you really can't be demons because I've would have sensed it." Then he looked at MacLoud and asked, "Then what are you?"
Joe answered for MacLoud, "They're Immortals, like Methos said. They fight to the death, the winner taking their opponent's head and with it their power."
"The Quicking," Angel put in.
Methos nodded, continuing, "Yes, since you already know most of this it won't hurt to tell you the rest. We fight till there is only one Immortal left and that Immortal gets all the power and knowledge of all the Immortals."
Angel nodded and said, "And you don't want someone like Draken to get all that power."
"Exactly," MacLoud said.
Angel shoved his hands into his pockets and asked, "What would this bastard do to Cordelia?"
MacLoud looked at Methos for Methos knew the Draken better than MacLoud did. Methos shrugged, saying, "Well from what we saw at the club, he doesn't want to kill your friend."
"But what will he do to her?" The vampire was getting anxious.
Methos answered, "Probably nothing. He'll probably use her as bait." Methos looked at MacLoud and grinned, "Mac can't resist a damsel in distress or a helpless mortal caught in the crossfire."
MacLoud hated the constant teasing he got from his friends telling him was too good for his own good. Methos had often told him that chivalry was made up by a bunch of board poets and minstrels. Amanda, his off agean-on again Immortal Lover, had called him a boy scout many times. It just made Joe curse a lot.
Joe asked, "What are you, then Angel?"
It was the question Angel had been waited and dreading, the vampire question. Joe asked, "Is it like the movies and books, can you turn to into a bat or a wolf or mist? Can you fly?"
The one called Methos looked at the mortal and sarcastically replied, "Joe, the vampire I encountered didn't turn into any of those things, he just sprung out and attacked me."
Angel was worried that there could be some new uprising of vampires in L.A., not good. He asked, "How long ago was this, and what happened?"
Methos answered, "About a thousand years ago, if I remember right. He bit me, drank my blood, killed me . . . "
"I thought you said you couldn't be killed unless your head was chopped off," Angel interrupted, still possessing all this information, and that Methos was over a thousand years old.
MacLoud answered, "We can die, but we come back. The only way to truly kill us is to cut off our heads."
Angel asked, "So you die momentarily and come back then?" All three of them nodded. Angel wondered how Joe Dawson was involved with all of this, but wasn't going to ask until later.
Methos went on, "I woke up and the vampire was still there. You should have seen the look on his face . . . Then I beheaded him and then he exploded into a cloud of ash. He was an ugly son of a bitch too." Cheerfully Methos added, "It'd not every century you see a person explode into ash. It's a real exspereance."
Angel chuckled a little as he said, "I see it every day."
"So you go around killing other vampires, why?" MacLoud asked.
Angel knew that his answer to this question would define the opinion of himself to the three men in this room. He wanted to sit down, wishing that he was at his apartment and not the Immortal's, even though it was a lot like his. He walked over to the window, and looked down at the City of Angels, his city. It was his duty to protect it, to come to terms with who and what he was. He was Angel, not Angelus the Scourge of Europe, or Angelus the one with the angelic face, or even Angelus O' Rourke, even though each of those people helped made who Angel is. Each memory defined him. From his start as the drunken lad in Ireland to the most vicious vampire to ever live, to a mortal soul with the power, hunger and evil of a vampire who loved a human destined to be his enemy.
MacLoud walked to the window, his eyes widening as he noticed Angel's lack of reflexion. Angel answered, "Because I have to. Because I'm not one of them."
"What do you mean?" MacLoud asked.
Angel was about to tell MacLoud what he had first told Buffy a few years ago, or at least a variation of it. Angel looked at the Immortal, back at the window, and back at MacLoud. He answered, "All a vampire is a corpse in which a demon inhabits. It walks around with all the memories and personality, the dark side of it, mind you, of that person. The soul is gone, no conscience, no remorse, it's an easy way to live.
"About a hundred years ago I was cursed." He waited a beat, he knew he had all three of them captivated. Angel continued, "Gypsy elders. I killed the favorite girl of their clan, and they fount the perfect punishment for me."
MacLoud and Joe looked expectant, while Methos looked slightly amused, like he knew what was coming. Angel went on, "They restored my soul." MacLoud and Joe looked shocked, while Methos had a knowing look on his face.
Methos said, "So you hunt vampires and other monsters to make up for all the evil you have done."
"Something like that," Angel bantered back, he knew how to handle smart asses, and Methos was one.
MacLoud asked, "What does this girl mean to you?"
Angel half smiled and answered, "She's a friend, even though under other circumstances I wouldn't admit it."
Joe asked, "I'm still not clear on the whole vampire thing, what the hell is going on?"
Angel looked at the crippled man and felt sorry for him. Angel knew what it was like to be disabled. He asked, "You mean you want to know what is truth and what is fiction, right?" Joe nodded. Angel shrugged and replied, "Well, ask away."
MacLoud asked, "Can you hypnotize people, you know like in the movies?"
Angel shook his head and answered, "No, I can't but some others can. Before . . . before I was cursed there was a girl I changed with physic powers. They developed even more and she can hypnotize people. Another vampire, a very old one, called the Master, could do that as well. Also when a vampire attacks a person and the person survives, and the person has no memory of the attack." Then he chuckled, "It would be nice at times though."
Joe asked, "All the other powers, you know flight, the shape shifting, and telepathy, can you do that?"
Angel chuckled, the idea of him turning into a bat was funny, or a wolf, or mist. Then another image of himself flying around Los Angeles made him snort. He shook his head and answered, "No, I can't."
"So you're not all powerful then?" MacLoud asked.
Angel shook his head. He said, "And all of the modern legends, like Anne Rice, are wrong. I fear the cross, I can't enter a home without an invitation, but once invited I can keep coming in, I don't have a refection, and holy water burns a vampire's skin like acid."
Methos asked, "I know beheading kills one of you guys, but what else?"
Angel shrugged, answering, "The traditional method is a wooden steak threw the heart, but other ways are burning, sunlight, beheading, and there is even a poison that can. . . . " He shook his head, trying to get the image that was forming in his mind out. He did not want to think of that, now, or ever again.
MacLoud asked, "So what can you do, do you have any powers I mean?"
Angel answered, "It depends on the vampire. Some are stronger than others, some heal faster, some are more sensitive, I mean have better senses than others, and some are faster. Occasionally you'll get a master vampire or a rouge that'll be almost unstoppable. Most of them are idiots. I even thought so before."
MacLoud studied the vampire for a moment, the ease he moved. MacLoud noticed that Angel had moved with a fighter's grace, and he wondered how powerful the vampire was. MacLoud looked at Methos, who inturn shrugged, then at Joe who shook his head.
MacLoud knew one thing, that Angel was not evil. MacLoud knew that for a fact. The guilt and pain of over a century was reflected in the vampire's eyes. What Angel was doing had a certain nobility in it that MacLoud admired.
Methos said, "So then, what are you like then?"
Angel only half smiled and shrugged. The vampire said, "I'm me. I don't know." MacLoud had a feeling that there was more to it than that. Then Angel looked out the window. "Damn, I've gotta go."
MacLoud looked out the window as well, sunrise was about a half an hour away. Angel said, "We'll meet tonight."
Methos asked, "When and where?"
Angel smiled and answered, "I'll find you."
MacLoud watched as the vampire walked out of his apartment. A few feet down the corridor, Angel seemed to fade into the shadows.
Cordelia paced in her plush prison. It was richly furnished with a canopy bed and oak dressers. Drake, Draken rather, hadn't done anything to hurt her. He just put her in this room and said to behave herself. He was a jerk.
Cordy walked over to one of the closets and opened it. It was full of stylish and expensive clothing. Cordelia ran her fingers over the sleeves of a sheer burgundy blouse. Everything looked to be in her size and Draken had told her she was welcome to everything in these two rooms.
She looked down at her dress and two inch high heels. Not exactly the outfit to plan an escape in, she thought. Cordelia grimaced, it didn't mean anything if she wore any of these clothes, did it? Well she shrugged to herself and grabbed a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt from the closet.
Angel woke up. It was an hour before sunset. He walked over to the window and looked out, making sure that none of the sunlight hit him. He was worried about Cordelia. He had so few friends, and he already had so much blood on his hands. He didn't want her death hanging over his head.
He paced the confinement of his apartment, knowing he should get something to eat, but wasn't hungry. He opened up the refrigerator like an impatient child and looked in. He reached in and grabbed his one bag of human blood.
Angel studied it, the thickness of it, the color. Mostly he survived on animal blood, but if he was severely injured human blood helped speed up the healing process. Disgusted with himself, he hung the blood bag up on the top rack and grabbed the half-filled pint from the other night.
Angel sat down on the couch and wondered what was happening to Cordelia.
Cordelia stealthily walked out of her plush prison. She crept down the hall, wanting to make a dead run for it, but knowing that would be stupid. She wondered why Angel hadn't tried to save her yet, then she remembered the weird guys in the club with the swords. She wondered if he was alive, so to speak.
Cordelia looked down the hall, it was clear. One thing about hanging with Angel, it had taught her to be more careful and smarter. Cordelia broke into a run to the door at the end of the corridor. Grinning at herself, she open the door.
The grin slid off her face as she saw Draken smileing at her. He grabbed her by the wrist and said, "My dear, things are about to get very interesting."
Cordy groaned and said, "Damn it." Draken laughed.
Angel put on his duster when someone knocked on the door. He felt his senses sharpen and grope out of the apartment in warning. He walked to the door, grabbing his baseball bat along the way.
Angel quickly opened the door, holding the bat ready. MacLoud, Methos and Joe stood there, a faint smile played across Methos' features.
Angel stashed the baseball bat and crossly asked, "How the hell did you find me?"
Methos smiled at him and answered, "Well, some of Joe's people followed you last night."
MacLoud shrugged as Angel looked at him. MacLoud said, "It was Methos' idea, not mine."
Angel glared at the older Immortal, wanting to take the baseball bat and smash it across his face. Methos chuckled, which cause Joe to mutter, "Smart ass."
Angel grinned at the Watcher. Then, as an afterthought, "Hey, Joe have you ever heard of someone called a Slayer?"
Joe looked perplexed for a moment, which caused Angel to chuckle. He had a sense of humor, an odd one, buried under centuries of torture and loneliness, but it was there. Besides, Angel had to ask that one. For a moment he wondered what it would be like if Giles and Joe Dawson met. Probably very awkward for the British Watcher.
Methos asked, "Is there something I'm not getting hear?"
Angel nodded. MacLoud shook his head and grinned. MacLoud said, "Someone accualy got you Methos."
Methos shrugged and replied, "Bound to happen sometime."
Angel crossed his arms, becoming serious once more. He asked, "Draken. Cordelia. Did you find anything?"
Joe answered, "Two possible places."
MacLoud looked at the vampire's pale features as they drove to one of the addresses that Joe had fount. MacLoud asked, "This girl, what does she mean to you?" He had asked the question once and wanted to see how Angel would answer it again.
Angel strummed his fingers of the T-Bird's dash board as he answered, "She's a friend, I guess. She's my sidekick, I think. She helps me and I pay her. She's my girl Friday, I think. It's kind of strange." Then with a self mocking smile he added, "Most of the things of my life are strange."
MacLoud smiled, he knew the feeling. He said, "I know the feeling."
The vampire looked at him and asked, "Do you?"
MacLoud nodded. He knew what it was like to lead a strange, semi-charmed life. Immortality wasn't what it was cracked up to be. He had even killed his best friend under the influence of Ahriman. He wondered if Richie's spirt was well.
MacLoud asked, "Have you ever heard of the demon Ahriman?"
Angel looked at him intensely. The vampire had this intense brooding quality about him that was discerning. He answered, "Yeah, it comes every thousand years to be defeated by a challenger. Each champion has their own way of defeating them."
MacLoud watched Angel's reaction as he said, "I was this generation's champion."
Angel's eyes became huge as he said in disbelief, "You killed Ahriman. That's incredible, but good."
"How?" MacLoud asked, not understanding.
Angel's half grin was sad as he answered, "I thought that someone else would have to fight him, and that I would lose them."
"A girl," MacLoud said partially understanding.
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