Blood Ties

by Cynamin


Part Five: Reality

The type of scene they found in the old warehouse was familiar to most of the group, even if the specifics were not. A cluster of robed figures stood about a hastily erected altar. A strange insignia was painted on both the altar cloth and the robes, resembling a stylized set of scales within a figure eight on its side. Also on the altar was a large book, two unlit candles, two small dishes with what appeared to be blood in them, and a large, ritual knife.

One figure, who was clearly the leader of the gathering, stood in front of the table, his head down and focused on the book. The others moved around him differentially, though they were not yet engrossed in the ritual. Instead they milled around, speaking in a general buzz of hushed voices.

Facing the altar were two tables. Loosely bound on each was a person, each wearing street clothes instead of the robes of the rest of the gathering. On was an older woman, her clothing and simple jewelry nonetheless speaking of a fair amount of wealth. The other woman was younger, in her thirties, wearing simple jeans and a t-shirt. Her face was thin with a pale, sickly cast. Neither one of the women was struggling.

Preparing to take action, Angel watched the scene closely. “They’re all human,” he whispered.

Crouching next to him, Wesley looked from the starting ritual to Angel. “Are you sure?”

Angel nodded.

They were silent a moment longer. As they watched, the figure in the more ornate robe looked up, and an instant hush fell over the gathering. Without any obvious cue, on of the figures next to him began to light one of the candles. An air of anticipation fell over the ritual group.

“They’ve done this before,” Wesley commented. “It’s too practiced.”

“Are you gonna keep talking, or are we gonna do something?” Gunn interjected.

“Of course,” Wesley said. “Gunn, circle around towards the main entrance. We want to make sure these women get out of here safely. I’ll try and free them. Cordelia...”

“Stay here with Kathy,” she said simply, nodding towards Angel’s younger sister. The girl looked both frightened and bewildered at the moment. She wouldn’t have even been there at all if they hadn’t decided it was better to have her with them than hovering in the car waiting.

“Alright,” Wesley agreed. “Angel....”

The vampire was obviously prepared for battle, his entire body tense.

Wesley winced at the determined expression on Angel’s face. “Just don’t kill anyone.”

Angel grinned and rose to his feet. He emerged from behind the pile of boxes, no longer making any effort to hide himself. There was a cocky smile on his face. “Well!” he said loudly. The entire robed gathering looked at him in shock. “They promised me quite the party, but this...!”

The leader stepped out from amidst his stunned followers. “I think you have the wrong warehouse, friend,” he said harshly.

“No,” Angel said, glancing at the bound women. “I think I’m in just the right place.” Then he let his vampire face show to the crowd.

The group panicked and broke for the exit.

The leader of the group tried to hold them together, but to no avail. “Fools!” he yelled, but they still swarmed around him, heading for any way out of the building. Frustrated, infuriated, and knowing exactly who to blame the evening’s disruption on, he grabbed the knife from the altar and went for Angel with it. “You’ve ruined it!”

In the corner of his eye, Angel could see Wesley untying the ropes of the older woman.

Screams and chaos filled the enclosed space as the robed leader slashed at Angel with the ornate knife. Startled by the sudden aggression, Angel did not quite manage to get away in time. It sliced through his sleeve and bit at skin beneath. Angel hissed at the pain of the shallow cut and drew back a step.

The leader used the space now between them to grab the book from the altar. Then, without any other effort on Angel’s life, he took off between some of the crates on the edge of the warehouse floor. Angel growled and ran to follow him, only to find his steps blocked by a couple of the straggling participants. They did not mean to stop him, only to save themselves, but their panicked running made Angel lose sight of their leader.

“Damn it!” Angel cursed.

Still, the most important element of their little warehouse invasion was complete. Both of the women had been released and would not be harmed, killed, or whatever had been planned for them. The older woman had disappeared with the bulk of the gathering. The younger sat on her table, fighting Wesley far more than she was the last of the ropes restraining her.

“How could you? How could you?” she was repeating over and over. Her voice had taken on a hysterical tone.

“Ma’am, please!” Wesley gasped. He fended off her flailing hands as he undid the ropes about her ankles.

Relaxing from his brief, aborted fight, Angel walked over to Wesley with his human appearance back in place. “What’s going on here?” he asked, confused as they all were by the woman’s reaction.

“She’s...being difficult,” Wesley managed.

Gunn joined them a moment later, slightly out of breath. “The other woman got out on her own,” he said. “She seemed angry.” He glanced at Angel. “Nice mob scene.”

Angel smirked briefly.

“Who the hell are you people?!” The woman yelled over all of them.

“We’re...” Wesley began to answer.

She did not wait for a response. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” she screamed.

“We’ve rescued you,” Wesley said patiently.

“I don’t want to be rescued!” she yelled, finally pulling her feet out of the last of the ropes. Her expression was one of anger and loss.

All three of the men were taken aback by the unexpected situation.

“I thought we just saved your life,” Gunn retorted.

She glared at him. “Thrill,” she said bitterly. “Could you do the same for me two years from now? Five years from now?”

“You’re sick,” Angel said flatly.

“Angel!” Cordelia said in misunderstanding. She had missed the previous part of the conversation, only just joining them with Kathy timidly following behind.

Both Angel and the reluctantly rescued woman ignored the reproach. “So what if I am?” she said.

“You think that’s it?” Angel asked. “Most people don’t volunteer for human sacrifice.”

“I have my reasons,” she said.

Angel looked genuinely dismayed. “Reasons for suicide?”

She did not answer him this time.

“Do you have a family?” Angel asked, softer than before. “Husband? Children?”

“Yes,” the woman answered warily.

“Do you think you’re doing them a favor?”

“I know I am,” she replied. “Do you have any idea how much people will pay for just a couple of years of life?”

“Yes,” Angel said, in a tone that was obviously far more understanding than she expected. Her eyes went wide. He continued, undaunted, persuasive. “Do you think this is something your family would want?” he asked, his voice taking on a gentler tone. “Everyone in my family died a long time ago,” he said sadly.

Beyond the woman, his eyes locked with Kathy’s. He could hear his sister gasp very slightly. “I’d give almost anything to spend another minute with them,” he said. “Just to talk with them, to have them be alive....”

He looked away from his sister and back to the distraught woman. “Don’t rob your family of whatever time together you have left,” he pleaded.

The woman just looked at him, silenced by his heartfelt words.

“Talk to them,” Angel said gently, and without another word walked out of the now silent warehouse.


On to Part Six

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