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Part SixCale Benjamin sighed. Ms. Rosenberg and her friends had dropped him off an hour ago, but there was nothing to do. The Bronze was really slow tonight. The band was playing the worst songs in the worst way, so almost no one was dancing; he wasn’t really friends with any of the people that came in, so there was no one to talk to, and once the clubbers caught him at the pool table they gave it a wide berth, since no one could beat him and they knew it. He was just about to circulate for what seemed the 44th time when Regan walked in.
Good, he thought, then caught himself. If I’m excited to see Regan I am in trouble. Nevertheless he motioned for her to join him, and, displaying all the enthusiasm of a nun finding a naked man in her bed, she did so.
I don’t know why I put up with her, he thought. She hates me, tolerates Emily and Ms. Rosenberg, and could give Spock lessons in ‘how to be emotionless.’ Emily likes her, I guess, and there are times she’s been a big help; I just wish I didn’t think that she’d be on the other side if she thought she could pull it off without turning. He shuddered and turned to his reluctant companion.
“Any luck?” he asked.
“Nope. Emily went home a half hour ago. They’ve been too fuckin’ quiet recently. Apart from those four at the airport, we haven’t killed more than one or two a night. And most of them were really young.” She stopped for a second and thought. “The bastards we fought tonight were kind of old, though —”
Cale started. “That sounds like something Ms. Rosenberg ought to know. We should tell her.” He got up and made for the door. “In person, Regan.”
She followed him, grumbling, “We’ve got the damn phones, we should use the damn phones …” all the way outside.
Someone was being attacked down the alley. An unholy glee entered Regan’s eyes and she sprinted towards the trouble; half a second later, Cale joined her, stake in hand tentatively. He wished like hell he were better in a fight. Four vampires were assaulting Angel.
Noiselessly Regan jumped the nearest and broke its neck, staking it as it went down. Taking advantage of the surprise, Angel grabbed one and slammed it into the wall a few times. Cale threw his stake at another, but it dodged and took it in the shoulder, not the heart. Still, Cale was surprised to see the other two run off. “Why’d they do that?” he wondered.
He got an even bigger shock when he saw Angel stop Regan from staking the one he’d thrown against the wall. Vampire-face in full form, Angel leaned over the prone vamp and told him coldly, “You tell Elsza we’re coming for her, and that he’d better not hurt the Slayer.” He picked the vampire up and threw him down the street, where he bounced to his feet and took off.
Cale blurted, “Elsza’s got Emily?”
“Yes. We’ve got to go after her now.” He ripped open a nearby manhole.
“Just let me call —” Cale began. Angel swiped the phone from his hands and it shattered against the wall.
“We don’t have time. Are you coming?” he said, descending into the Sunnydale sewers. Cale sighed and Regan cursed, but if Emily was in trouble, no way wasn’t he going — they quickly followed him down the ladder.
* * *
The walls of the sewers, surprisingly, did not drip with slime. They were far too old for that; there was nowhere left for the slime to drip. Suddenly Angel paused at a maintenance door, tearing it open. “Come on, it’s not much farther,” the vampire said impatiently. Cale was right behind him, and Regan brought up the rear.
“Are you sure we’ll be able to handle this?” Cale whined. “I mean, confronting the Master in her lair —” Angel went to the back of the room. Behind a pile of debris was the entrance to a small tunnel.
“I’m dead, Cale, not crazy. We’re nowhere near where the Master holes up.”
“Then why the hell’re we going this way?” Regan asked.
“There’s a gap in the caves back here. We’ll be able to spy and overhear without them catching us. Then we’ll be able to tell how bad the situation is, if we need an immediate attack or we can go back and take Willow’s advice. I didn’t tell you about it because I didn’t want Emily coming too close to Elsza’s lair. She might have attacked prematurely, and right now the Slayer would be no match for her.” He crouched to enter the tunnel, Cale and Regan following. It was a lot more cramped in the natural tunnel, but at least it was dry.
The two teens followed Angel through the twists and turns of the tunnel for what seemed like forever. Abruptly they all poured out into a large cavern. They could hear voices in the distance.
Angel whispered, “The gap is this way,” and motioned for them to follow. When they got to the center of the chamber Angel’s flashlight abruptly cut out.
“What the f–” Regan said, then stopped as torches suddenly lit all around them. At least a dozen. Standing by each torch was a vampire.
Cale said, “Angel, what do we do now?” Regan drew a stake and prepared for, quite literally, the fight of her life.
Angel whirled around, a frighteningly cold grin on his demonic visage. “What do you mean ‘we,’ live man?” He cold-cocked Cale with one punch, knocking him limply to the ground. He turned to the blond vamp behind him and said, “No draining. Master’s orders. Chain him to the wall.”
Regan was puzzled as she backed into the cavern wall. “Angel, why are you doing this?” Angel reached forward to choke her, and the last thing she heard before she lost consciousness were the three most frightening words she had ever heard in her life.
“Not Angel,” he whispered. “Angelus.”