The Paragon Of Animals
Parts 10-12
Things had settled down enough that the next thump against the glass almost made Cordelia jump out of her skin.
Looking up from the dry and dusty tome in her hands,she saw the guy now pounding on the door was bigger than the last one,and this one also had a metal pipe,which looked like part of gutter downspout.
He slammed the pipe against the door of the Hyperion a second time,and she thought she heard a crack by the time Gunn unlocked the door and threw it open.
Pipe man had pulled back for another swing,but Gunn stopped its downward arc by grabbing it with his left hand,and giving the man a sharp,hard right jab to the face.Gunn ripped the pipe away as he staggered backwards,blood spurting from his newly broken nose,and then Gunn planted a firm kick in his midsection,sending him sprawling out onto the walk."Tell your friends there's more where that came from,"Gunn snapped angrily,slamming the door and locking it again.
As he tossed the pipe aside,letting it roll across the floor until it came to rest beside the tire iron Bob had taken away from the mechanic earlier,he asked Wesley,"Tell me again why I can't scare these zombies off by putting a ring of fire around this place?"
Wesley looked up from his place behind the front desk,where he was trying to read two books at once,and scowled at Gunn,a little worry line bridging the gap between his eyebrows."They're not zombies,Gunn.They've just been...taken over,for lack of a better term.Besides,I doubt fire would work:they have no qualms about getting hurt."
"Yeah,and so far they're not organized,"she pointed out,her heart now back into a normal rhythm.
"Yet,"Gunn added,staring at her,and she knew,while he was being paranoid,he was also probably right.
By the way Wesley slammed one of his books shut in frustration,he knew that too."We can't kill them,Gunn.They're human beings."
"I'm on board with that.But what if they decide to attack the hotel as a group-we're not supposed to defend ourselves then?"He continued angrily,switching his dark glare back to Wes.
Wes glared back as best he could."Of course we defend ourselves,but we don't kill."He pointlessly adjusted his glasses,and glanced up at the clock."Shouldn't they have been back by now?"
"Well,rampaging hordes of brainless people is hell on the traffic,"Gunn said sarcastically,picking up his book from the chair where he had left it.He didn't sit down more than he threw himself down in it,clearly frustrated and wound up like a spring."We should have gone with them."
"They didn't need us,"Wesley countered,but she could tell from the icy edge to his voice he didn't like it either."We're safer here until we know what's going on,until we know where Bellara's main locus is."
"Which could be never if they were captured or killed."Gunn shot back.
"Angel can take care of himself;so can Bob."
"And Bob is a slimy,lyin' Belial demon.One of his people is scrambling the brains of the populace,if you haven't noticed.We're trusting him why?"
Before Wesley could make any sort of angry or pseudo-witty rejoinder,Cordelia exclaimed,"Enough!"
She said it loud enough that it seemed to reverberate through the lobby,but at least it got their attention.Looking between them,she said,"I hate to break up this testosterone spewing session,but this isn't helping.Now I have wasted almost forty minutes looking through a book whose stinky smell is starting to give me a headache,and I'm not going to sit here and listen to you two have some sort of pissing contest.You want to fight?Take it outside."
And she meant it,too:she was ready to pick up her axe-which had yet to leave her side-and see what kind of damage the blunt end could do.
Gunn looked down at the floor,muttering something that could have been an apology,and Wesley mumbled an,"Of course,you're quite right."
They went back to their books,but she was far from happy. She was getting a headache-she could feel it as a dull ache in the center of her forehead,but compared to the headaches she got during and after a vision,this was almost pleasant.Still,she couldn't remember the last time she had a non-vision related headache;probably some time before she started having visions. In a way,it seemed almost quaint.
She settled deeper against the back of the couch,and tried to focus her attention back on the densely written pages of her current book,but her eyes seemed to glide over the black ink,and she was retaining nothing.It occurred to her she was tired,but there was no way in hell she'd be able to sleep.
This seemed like pointless busy work-why didn't she get a vision about all this? Were the Powers That Be on vacation?They picked a hell of a time for it.
Of course,maybe they weren't;maybe Bob had been telling the truth,and she was 'blocked' somehow.
Naaah.
She tried to surreptitiously glance at the clock,and wasn't really sure if Angel and Bob were late,or Wesley was just being a nervous Nellie.But she did know one thing.
That audition had just gone straight down the toilet.
Angel gave the radio one more try before he decided Bob had indeed shut it off.
If they lived through this,he was going to kill him.
He considered going up and getting him,but there were several flaws with that plan.Namely,he'd probably be recognized quite quickly,security guard uniform or not;and if they had their blinds open,well,he was toast-literally.And he had no idea where exactly he was,either,and this was a huge building;a maze within a maze.
How could he have ever trusted a Belial,even partially,for one second?He had to be insane.
But while he still had the time,he decided to check out that room once more.
It wasn't hard to find;he backtracked by scent alone.Angel was surprised all the vampires in the building weren't lured here by the smell;it was like putting chum in the water to bring in sharks.
The room was unchanged,which he more or less expected,but this time he went in,not content to leave having done nothing more than a visual search.
It was another waste of time.The marks were the same,made from fire not charcoal,the burnt clumps of fur definitely Hellhound,the smell of blood cloying even though there wasn't a single drop of it to be found anywhere in the stainless steel chamber.
But as he was leaving,he thought he spied a small,vague outline on the floor,and crouched down for a better look.
It was a scale.Translucent and almost paper thin,it was a sloughed off scale,the kind reptilian demons sometimes shed-residue from the seven foot tall hulk?Had to be.
It was hard to pick up and examine,crumbling to dust in his fingers,but it was sharply triangular,about two inches across at its widest point,tapering down to only a few centimeters at its tip.But if it was anything more than a shed piece of skin,it could have been sharp enough to cut.
Even as the scale fell apart,he realized it was all familiar-scaled skin,towering height,smell of concrete-but it was eluding him;it was like a word on the tip of his tongue he couldn't spit out.From the way his stomach continued to clench in utter dread,though,he knew things had just gotten more complicated.
He heard footsteps in the hallway,and waited until they walked passed and passed out of range of his hearing before he got up and went to the door,brushing the dust of the scale off his hands,and opened it,peering out cautiously.
The corridor appeared clear,but he knew his time had run out. He thought about trying the radio again,but the hell with Bob-if he insisted on being a stubborn bastard who refused to do things according to plan,he could get himself caught or killed.He never should have trusted him in the first place.
As he started down the halls towards the sub-basement levels (and subsequently the sewer access point),a knot of three security guards appeared at the mouth of the corridor before him,all built like vending machines:broad,tall,and hard as metal.
Either they thought he was wearing props,or they never even saw the weapons on his belt,so one of the stake wielders got a nasty shock as he closed in on him-literally.
Angel spun into a high kick that caught one of the men charging in behind him in the face,momentum throwing the guard into his two fellow officers,knocking them all to the floor like dominoes,amd as Angel spun back towards the front of he hall,he grabbed his taser off his belt,thumbed it on,and jabbed the closest human blur rushing towards him.
There was an electrical snap,and the stake wielder on Angel's right went suddenly wide eyed,his eyes all hazel irises and pinprick black pupils,before he collapsed heavily to the floor,tripping the leader who almost fell on his own taser because of it.
But the stake wielder on the left got through and stabbed him.
Angel couldn't help but shout in pain as the wooden stake pierced his flesh and thrust out his back,ripping the fabric of his uniform shirt.It was a miss as good as a mile-it punctured his left lung and broke a rib,but wasn't anywhere near his heart-yet it still hurt like a bitch.Angel dropped his taser and slammed a flatten palm into the guard's face,breaking his nose on impact and knocking him cold.As he ripped the stake out of himself (shit,that hurt),something hard hit the back of his legs and he crashed down to his knees on the floor.
He sensed the guard more than he saw him,and lashed backwards with his arm at full extension.His fist caught the attacking guard on the side of the head,and the man's head hit the wall with the sound of someone punching a frozen side of beef.Although he had no doubt he was a complete asshole,Angel still hoped he hadn't fractured his skull.
He rolled up to his feet,in time to see he was being double teamed:the leader of the rent-a-cops and the lone conscious guy from the rear guard were coming at him from the side,one on the left,the other on the right.Angel reached out and grabbed the arm of the guard charging him with the stake and swung him around,straight into his leader.They both went down,and there was an electrical snap,as the leader accidentally tasered his own man.Painful for one,embarrassing for the other.
Angel could feel the puncture wound in his side throbbing like a phantom heart,his own cold blood staining his shirt and making it cling to him like a second skin,and he decided a tactical retreat was probably the better part of valor.
But as he turned down the adjoining corridor,he saw another half dozen guards rush in from an adjoining corridor,and glancing back,he saw another half dozen behind the five fallen guards,the slightly stunned leader getting to his feet as soon as he shrugged off the unconscious body of the man he had accidentally tasered.
The leader looked at him,flinty eyes slightly glazed,lips curling into a sneer."Yeah,Angel,I think we can take you."
Angel knew he had a loaded gun on his hip,but he was not going to shoot these men.
Even if it was the only way out of here.He was just going to have to do it the hard way.
He wished that,one of these days,there'd be an easy way.
Ignoring his injury,Angel attacked the first group as they swarmed him en masse,like a hive of angry insects.
As he stepped over unconscious,groaning guards-real ones,by the look of them-he noticed another come flying out of the adjoining hallway,hitting a metal door head first before he dropped to the beige carpet like a sack of hammers.
Maybe this was Angel's idea of fun.
He came around the corner,wary of flying bodies,and thought he saw the vamp in a knot of blue and black uniform,a clot of struggling bodies like the body of a huge,ungainly insect trying to move into several different directions at once.
"Hey,Angel,wrap this up,"he said."I want to get out of this pit."
The seething mass of fighters seemed to stop as one,and look towards him,mostly baffled by his sheer audacity,Angel included. One of the guards broke away from he main body and charged him with his taser out,but Bob simply glanced into his eyes,and told him,"Broken leg."
The guard's right leg seemed to give out beneath him,and he hit the floor screaming in pain,grabbing what he thought he was his snapped leg as Bob walked past him.
There was a moment of hesitant disbelief,then half the guards broke away from trying to subdue the bloodied Angel and came after him,drawing tasers and guns,dimly aware that stakes wouldn't work.
But those weren't going to work either.
He saw a guard unclip his radio and raise it to his mouth,and Bob knew he was going to call in reinforcements,as well as the discovery of the psychic disturbance in the building."Shut up,"he ordered,and while the guard opened his mouth,absolutely no sound came out.He kept trying to talk,eyes bulging in panic,and forgot all about his radio.
As he looked at the mass of guards swarming towards him,he sighed,impatient:what he had gotten out of McDonald was bad upon worse,and he didn't want to be here any longer than he had to be.Right now,he wanted to go somewhere quiet and have a nice,stiff drink."Laughing gas,"he said.
The mass of guards stopped as one,and then most burst out laughing,some dropping their weapons while others staggered to the wall,leaning against it for support.They were too high to remember their orders,or even care right now.
Angel threw one of the few guards left having at him over his back,nailing another guard,and of the few still sober and on his feet,one shouted,"Fall back!"
Before they could,he caught their startled and occasionally wounded gazes,and said,"Nighty night,boys."
They toppled like toy soldiers,hitting the floor sometimes on top of one another,and the one Angel had been fighting ended up falling forward into his arms.Angel dropped him,startled,and looked at Bob curiously,his face still vamped and strangely kind of attractive,in an animalistic sort of way.The blood streaking his face just added to his savage charm."How the hell did you do that?"
"Never underestimate the power of suggestion,mate.Now,come on,let's blow this pop stand."He carefully stepped over the dozing bodies of the guards,and Angel morphed back into human face as he walked by.Yeah,he preferred him in vamp face;made him seem more honest somehow.
Of course,he could smell the blood on him,and saw the left side of his shirt was almost black with it,making it cling to him like he was the winner of the wet uniform shirt contest."You okay?"
Angel stared at him,frowning."Oh yeah,I always bleed like this."
He stared right back at him,ignoring his sarcasm,and wondered why he was even bothering.But,shit,he had asked him for his help,and he had come against his better judgment...although he continued to mistrust him,the racist bastard.Still,maybe he'd trust him enough to let him find out what was going on with the lovely Cordelia."You're not bleeding."
"What?I was staked in the lung!Of course I-"
"Angel,"he said firmly,grabbing his eyes and holding them with his,ignoring how the throbbing in his brain amped up its pulsing,like a larva trying to squirm its way out of an egg sac."You aren't bleeding.You aren't hurt."
He blinked rapidly,released from the trance,and said,"Yes I am.I..."He trailed off,his dark brows drawing downward in sudden confusion,as he glanced at his chest,peeling the bloody shirt up for a better look.
In spite of all the blood,there wasn't a wound to be seen;his skin was as unblemished and eerily perfect as always.When Angel looked back up at him,he seemed slack jawed in astonishment."How the fuck did you do that?"
"I didn't-haven't you ever heard of mind over matter?"He rubbed his temple,feeling the throb move there,and several radios burst to life around them,supervisors and overseers wanting the troops to give status reports on the situation,unaware no one was awake enough to give such a briefing."You're going to have to lead the way to the sewer-I don't know the way."
Angel tucked his shirt back in-there was nothing Bob could do about the rip or the blood soaked into the fabric,as the shirt had no mind to reach-still giving him a strange look,somewhere between awe and deep suspicion."Why not go back on the surface?" "Because I just know the sun'll kill me,"he said,with all honestly.Until he had a good,strong drink,he had the equivalent of a migraine.The Scanners were coming on hard and fast now-he had stayed with Lindsey too long.But boy,had he found out more than he wanted to know,and yet somehow also less too.
He pulled out his sunglasses and put them on,as Angel continued giving him a queer look."Did you find out where Bellara is?" "Not as such.Lindsey didn't know.But I think he narrowed down the choice of safe houses."
"Lindsey?You enthralled Lindsey McDonald?"Angel laughed,like it was the funniest joke he had ever heard.
"He hates your guts too."
"Well,at least it's mutual,"Angel replied with a shrug,and then started stepping over bodies,heading for the sub-basement access,and Bob followed,hoping he could stand the smell of the sewer.
Bob didn't want to share his pessimism,but knowing what he now knew,it was hard to be optimistic.Deep in his heart,he really thought,when up against the wall,he would be a match for Bellara.Now he knew he didn't have a virgin's chance at a vampire's 'coming out' party;he was screwed ten thousand times over.In fact,if they couldn't figure out some way to kill her,they all were.
As he massaged his knuckles into his aching forehead,trying to relieve the pressure,he wondered how bad it was outside,and if the killings had started yet.
Because they would,sooner rather than later.And what killed him was he didn't know how to stop it.
Back at the Hyperion,Bob got a drink and all of them-Wesley,Gunn,Cordelia,a sick looking Bob and Angel-sat around the front desk and tried to put together the information they had.
And it just went to prove the old saying about things never being so bad that they couldn't in fact get worse.They hit the nadir,the very bottom of the well,and surprisingly,they kept on digging.
Bob had 'shared' a memory of Lindsey's-supposedly-that put him on the scene of Bellara's resurrection,although he was apparently clueless as to what was going on.She had been aided in her release by a warlock named Caliban,whom Angel was willing to bet was the man he'd seen with Nathan Reed in the basement level:Bob's description certainly jibed with the man he had seen.
But whom she had been released into was almost beyone belief.
"Marla?"Gunn exclaimed,glaring at him like he had just become one of the vacant people destroying cars in the streets outside."She's dead.She took a short jump off a long roof."
"She landed in a dumpster,"Bob replied,holding his tumbler of whiskey with both hands.He claimed he needed 'something strong-but no cheap stuff' to keep his head from exploding.While he seemed to be a little pale,with a definite bluish undertone to his skin by the time they got back,he seemed better now,the color in his face far more human."She was rendered comatose,not dead."
And Angel remembered seeing her hit the dumpster.Damn it,he knew he should have checked it.
"But she's Liigon,"Wesley interjected,looking slightly less glum."She's an imperfect host."
"She's half Belial,"Bob sighed,swirling the dregs of his whiskey around in his glass."She's better than perfect.At least for their purposes."
"Half Belial?Well,that explained why she was evil,"Gunn noted,with obvious irony.Bob frowned at him,but didn't show any further reaction.
"What do you mean better than perfect?"Wesley continued. But Angel,who had just figured it out,answered first."She's a full blown telepath.She may actually be enhancing Bellara's already formidible powers."
"Oh,wonderful,"Cordy said,tapping her manicured fingernails impatiently on the desktop."What's next?"
"Lindsey seems to think there's more going on,and so do I,but neither of us know what."Bob offered wearily.
"There is,"Angel agreed,nodding,and informed the others of the ritual sacrifice scene he had found in the basement.He already had a demon dictionary in his lap,in hopes of looking up the tall,lizardy demon he'd seen with Reed,but so far he hadn't the time.
"I had to ask,"Cordy sighed,biting her lower lip in anxiety.
"Why would someone sacrifice a Hellhound?"Wesley asked him,frowning in thought,his glasses sliding down to the tip of his nose.
"For the kicks?"Gunn suggested.
"There's another more immediate problem,"Bob interjected,after gulping down the rest of his drink."Lindsey received a memo,telling him to not watch the channel seven news at noon and six.He didn't know why,but I do."
"Noon?"Gunn repeated."That's when all this shit started happening."
"Are you saying they got Marla...er,Bellara,on television?"Wesley wondered,pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose."But can Belials transmit their energy over such a broad medium?"He paused briefly,then threw up his hands."What am I saying?The rules don't apply here."
"So you're saying she put the whammy on them through a t.v.?"Gunn actually looked slightly impressed."I always knew t.v. could rot your mind."
"And she's going to do it again at six?"Wesley continued."We have to stop it."
"How?"Bob asked him,genuinely curious."It's probably just a bit of film they subliminally inserted between adverts;she wouldn't need long at all."
"Neither would we,"Gunn replied,his expression stony with grim resolve."Blow up the channel seven transmitter.No signal,no brain scrambling."
"Gunn,"Cordy exclaimed,shocked."That's like...well,a major felony at the very least.And this is L.A.-screwing with television may warrant the death penalty."
"They're probably innocent victims,"Angel told the young man."They probably have no idea what they're sending over the airways."
"I don't care,"Gunn said,a resurgent anger narrowing his lips to a thin line."Who knows how many more people will be zombified by six,which is prime time for the news,by the way.We have to stop it,no matter how wack it seems.The ends justify the means."
Angel shook his head,reluctant to admit Gunn had a point-but he did.Could he think of a better way to stop the transmission? "I have friends I can pay to interrupt the transmission,without resorting to blowin' stuff up real good,"Bob said,setting the empty glass tumbler aside.He looked pretty much normal now,which was either good or bad,depending on your point of view."But that's a temporary solution.If they can get it on one channel,theoretically they can get them on all of them.What we need to concentrate on is how we're going to kill her."
"Isn't that convenient-you know people who can stop it,"Gunn said darkly,giving Bob a suspicious glare.
"What about that knife?"Angel interjected,as Bob glared back at Gunn.
"The one I used to kill the Executioner-would it work on Bellara?"
Bob stopped glaring at Gunn long enough to look at him."What,you mean this one?"He reached down,and pulled a slim leather knife sheath out from his boot,and slapped it on the counter between them.Angel recognized the bejeweled,filigreed gold handle,underneath what appeared to be leather strips wrapped around the bottom of the haft,allowing Bob to handle it without burning his hand.
Wesley picked it up first,carefully withdrawing it from the sheath,the lint glinting hard silver off the curved blade."Extraordinary,"he gasped,the blade doubled in the reflection of his glasses."You say this was blessed by a god?Which one?"
"Well,see,I'm not really sure,I just know it wasn't Ganesha,"Bob replied,finally turning his attention away from the suspicious Gunn."Don't get me wrong,he's a super nice god and all,a real dag,but he's half elephant,you know...there's an odor..." Wes glanced at him sharply over the blade of the knife."Are you saying you've met Ganesha?"
"What's a dag?"Cordelia wondered.
"Will this kill Bellara?"Angel asked,getting back to the point. "It will kill Marla,"Bob said,with a shrug."But Bellara...I have no fucking idea.She could just flee the host body and find another."
"So we kill all the Belials around-she'll have nowhere to go,"Gunn suggested,with a bitter sort of facetiousness.
Bob gave him a look that could have splattered his brains across the lobby tiles."I know you're just bein' a bastard,but do you know how many Belials there actually are?The general ratio is one in ten:one of every ten people you meet will be Belials,or part Belial,whether they know it or not.Even you might have some Belial in your family;you'd be surprised how many humans do." Gunn's dark hazel eyes narrowed to lethal slits,hands clenching into fists."Take that back,asshole."
"Calm down-this isn't helping,"Angel said,looking directly at Gunn.If Bob wanted to fight him,he wouldn't have to get up out of his seat,and Gunn wouldn't land a single blow before losing quite badly-seeing what Bob had done to the security guards had convinced him Bob was a far more dangerous creature than he'd ever given him credit for."Okay,so what do we know:Caliban,this warlock,has been casting 'chaos' spells randomly over the past two weeks,making normally peaceful demons go crazy,as preparation for something,something that might involve a seven foot demon and the sacrifice of both a Human and a Hellhound."
"And Marla's made half the town her personal playthings via the boob tube,"Bob said,glancing away from Gunn.It was clear he was tempted to hurt him,but he was trying to restrain the urge.
"And we still have no idea how to kill her,"Cordelia offered,resting her forearms on the desktop.It looked like she was weary enough to put her head down."Or even how to slow her down.Guys,this sucks."
"I can hit my connections,"Bob said,sounding defeated."Somebody has to know something more than this."
"Yeah,you,"Gunn spat angrily at him,although he turned his corrosive gaze towards Angel."This guy is playing us."
Wesley resheathed the knife reluctantly,and opined,"It is what Belials do best.But so far there's no proof of that.So far."
Bob shook his head,sneering contemptuously."You bloody racist bastards!I put my ass on the line here,and you keep giving me all this stereotypical bullshit!"
"You brought her here,"Gunn pointed out,continuing to glare daggers at him.
"And you did do that mojo thing to me when you first came here,"Cordy added,although she sounded far more forgiving than Gunn.
"Because there's something wrong with you,love,"he told her,and seemed to instantly realize he didn't phrase that right,his electric blue eyes widening in embarrassment."No,I didn't mean it like that."
It was her turn to glare at him.She crossed her arms over her chest,scowling,hazel eyes as cold as ice."Too bad we can't hook him to a lie detector.Preferably one that delivers electrical shocks to the testicles for every line of bullshit."
After every man around the desk winced,Wesley told her,"No lie detector works on a Belial."
"No mechanical lie detector,"Angel mused,thinking aloud.
Wesley cocked his head,giving him a curious look."What do you mean-"he began,but then tapered off,pale blue eyes widening as he suddenly understood what he meant."Oh,I see.That's a good idea."
"What's a good idea?"Bob asked,looking between them and frowning sourly.
As Bob retrieved his blessed dagger,Angel asked him,unable to keep the smile off his face,"Ever heard of a place called Caritas?"
