April was anxious. She was pacing the office. She hadn’t sat down since they’d returned to Wolfram and Hart. Wes and Angel were chatting quietly at Angel’s desk. April didn’t care what they were saying. She knew what had happened, she’d let that little girl die. It was her fault. She wasn’t fast enough, or smart enough. Maybe she wasn’t a good enough slayer.
“I’m going for a walk,” she said aloud, to no one in particular. The two men on the other side of the room barely looked up at her. She was fine if they ignored her. It didn’t matter anymore. Her denim jacket was draped over the club chair. Grabbing it up, she stalked out of the office.
Walking across the lobby, she waved away Spike when he tried to follow her. He caught her at the elevator bank. She pressed the button to open the doors without making eye contact with the vampire. He leaned against the wall, staring at her intently.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded. His voice wasn’t angry, but rather intrigued.
“Out,” she snapped. Her impatience with all the sitting and talking was showing in her voice. Spike continued to lean against the wall, eying her.
“You shouldn’t wander around alone.”
“Well sorry, but the sun’s up, so you’re not going with me. Besides, I’m a big girl and I don’t need a babysitter.” Just then, the elevator doors opened, and she stepped inside. She pushed the first floor button with more force than was really necessary. What she wanted to do was punch something or someone. She felt hot rage surging through her veins.
When the elevator reached the ground floor, she hurried outside. She was halfway out to the sidewalk before she remembered to breathe. She’d never felt such an intense rush of anger about anything before. She tried to concentrate on the sidewalk in front of her. For the first few blocks there were hardly any people. It was understandable since it was still kind of early. When April reached a road that was buzzing with traffic she turned left and continued on her way.
With no idea where she was actually headed, April fumed. The energy that was building up inside her threatened to spill out into something dangerous. She took a few deep breaths, but nothing could settle the relentless gnawing at her heart.
Before she really grasped the concept, April had gotten herself hopelessly lost. She slowed her pace and looked around. Where a few minutes ago she had been surrounded by high-class office buildings, now there were only run down warehouses. She turned sharply and took in her whole surroundings.
There was nothing and there was no one. April sucked in a ragged breath. The air, which had just been warm and fairly pleasant, was now biting and chilly. Something echoed from between the old dark buildings around her. The temperature seemed to be dropping steadily. April’s hands began to tremble. The buildings seemed to be closing in on her. Then, she heard the singing.
Little bloody footprints running up the hall
Tiny little screams that no one hears at all
He’s coming now you cannot hide
Close your eyes you’re gonna die
April wrapped her arms around her body as she furiously turned in circles trying to identify the source of the haunting tune. She felt a nervous knot begin to form in her stomach. She felt lightheaded. The singing continued, growing louder and louder until it filled April’s ears. Still there was no sign of anyone.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the singing stopped and the encroaching feeling passed. April exhaled the breath she had been holding onto. The street was still empty, but now it was silent as well. April turned toward the sun. Her back had been to it the entire time she’d been walking, so she began to go towards it.
Soon April was back on the bustling streets lined with office buildings. When she reached the street she knew she should turn on to go back to Wolfram and Hart, she ignored it. The gang really didn’t need her right now, all she would be is in the way. There were more people out now. April checked her watch; it was nearing nine o’clock.
Considering her options, April decided she would find out about the murder victims. There had to be a connection between them. He had to be choosing them somehow.
Up the block a ways was a pay phone. April went to it and opened up the phone book. She found the address for the District Attorney’s office. Flipping through the pages again, April found maps of the city. Looking up, she spotted a street sign. In a few minutes, she determined that the office was only eight blocks away from her.
She walked there and went inside. The ground floor was a lavish lobby with several elevator banks lining the walls. On the far wall were a reception desk and a listing of the offices and which floor they occupied. April walked to it and scanned the listing. Reid’s office was on the eleventh floor.
April went to the elevators and waited in line with several people all dressed in business suits and carrying briefcases. Looking down at her own t-shirt and jeans, April felt a little embarrassed. She hadn’t slept all night, so she probably had dark circles around her eyes and her hair was probably matted. Smoothing as best she could, she joined the other people on the elevator.
When she reached the eleventh floor she was met with another receptionist. Beyond her were the offices. April tried to think of a viable excuse that would get her past the receptionist. Nothing came to mind as she approached the desk, so she tried an honest tactic.
“I need to see Colin Reid,” she said in a low voice. The woman barely acknowledged her.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Well, no,” replied April, “but he’ll want to see me.” Here the receptionist looked up at her. April could feel her eyes evaluating her. A sarcastic smile crossed her face.
“I can’t let you in without an appointment.” She evaluated April with her eyes, “I can leave a message if you would like.”
April was about to shake her head when she felt someone grasp her arm from behind. She turned and found herself face to face with the ADA. He looked as disheveled as she felt. He had changed his clothes, but he hadn’t shaved and he’d barely combed his hair. His eyes were dark as he stared at her.
“It’s okay Elaine,” he said without looking at the receptionist. “Please cancel everything I have scheduled for the day.” The receptionist was clearly about to argue, but she wisely bit her lip and nodded heartily.
Reid led April passed the front desk and into an office. It was lined with dark oak shelves full of books. There was a leather couch against one wall and two matching chairs near a large oak desk. The desk was surprisingly neat. All the papers were stacked in tidy little piles and everything was free of dust and garbage.
“Have a seat,” said Colin in a low tone. He leaned against the wall for a minute running his hands through his hair. He seemed tired. April had been up for over twenty-four hours and she didn’t feel the least bit sleepy.
“What can you tell me about the victims?” asked April. Colin seemed perturbed by the question at first, but as he stepped behind his desk to have a seat he’d regained his composure.
“They’re all children, under ten. No similar physical characteristics. They aren’t the same gender, they aren’t from the same neighborhood, and none of them knew each other. So far, no one has any idea what connects them all.”
“Except that they’re all dead,” whispered April. Colin shot her a look. It was the same look that her father used to give her, like he was surprised about what she said. She met his eyes, the evident sorrow showing in her face.
“What are you doing here?” asked Colin finally.
“It’s my fault that little girl died last night,” April confessed. “I should have stopped him.” Colin looked like he wanted to question her further, but he said nothing. This girl was infinitely interesting, and the fact that she was somehow associated with Wolfram and Hart made her that much more intriguing. He waited, hoping she would continue.
“I came here so they could help me,” she paused, meeting the ADA’s gaze. “Wesley and Angel I mean. They’re supposed to…” She trailed off for a minute, trying to explain the situation without giving up anything important. “They’re supposed to help me, and now, I feel like I have to help them. I have to help them catch this guy before…” Colin’s mind finished the sentence: before he kills again.
“We’ll get him.”
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