Connor just stared, absolutely dumbfounded at this new arrival. What was he supposed to say to this guy? He had never been confronted by a weirdo in leather before… At least not one he didn’t end up stabbing with a stake. But this guy wanted to talk to him, while he seemed to be a walking advertisement for Stranger Danger.
He wasn’t sure what his first instinct was. One part of him told him to turn and walk in the other direction without another word. The other part– the one that had been obsessing about Quortoth all night– told him to punch the guy in the face.
Connor decided on a happy medium. He looked around. He then looked to Jamie. He then looked back at the strange man in all black. He pointed to himself, trying his best to appear innocent. “Me? You want to talk to me?”
“I don’t see any other Connors around here.” Andrew stepped towards Connor, causing him to take a step backwards. Andrew puffed his chest out, obviously trying to look more powerful than he was. The effect was failing miserable. Even Jamie would be able to beat this guy up. As it were, Jamie looked like he was ready to burst into laughter at any moment.
But the next words Andrew said caused Connor’s breath to catch.
“It’s about your father.”
There was no way Andrew was talking about his adoptive father. Connor kicked himself for not returning the phone call he’d received. He took a step towards Andrew, fighting against the growing anxiety inside of him. “Jamie, don’t you have class?”
Jamie nodded slowly. “Yeah. Starts in twenty.” He leaned in close to Connor. “Listen, I don’t like the look of this guy. Makes me nervous. I can skip if you want back up.”
Connor shook his head, keeping his eyes trained on Andrew. His predatory nature had gone into overdrive. This boy– who looked barely older than him– had threatened his life. Angel calling him on the phone was one thing. Having some flunky show up was another. He wanted that life to stay away from the one he had now. The farther Jamie was from it the better. “Take off. I’ll be fine.”
Jamie nodded slowly. He gripped Connor’s shoulder tightly, confortingly. “Watch out. I don’t trust that freakazoid.”
“Neither do I.” Connor tightened his fists, ready to strike at the first hint of provocation. “I’ll see you at home.”
He kept his gaze trained on Andrew, but listened to Jamie’s footsteps retreating. He wasn’t going to talk to Andrew until his friend was at a safe distance. He cocked his head slightly, narrowing his gaze on Andrew. “You know something about my father. I’m guessing you’re not talking about Larry Reilly.”
The smile on Andrew’s face was friendly, but there was something about it that Connor didn’t like. It seemed smug somehow. Maybe he was just overcompensating for his obvious weakness. Or perhaps Connor was wrong about that weakness. Appearances could be deceiving. Connor himself proved that. Andrew tucked his sunglasses into the collar of his t-shirt. He ran a hand over his hair and then grimaced at his palm, a thin sheen of product on it. “I am of course referring to Angel, the vampyre with a–“
Connor huffed out an irritated breath. He cut Andrew off by grabbing him by the back of his leather coat and pulling him along. He didn’t hesitate at the feeble squeaks of protest, forging onwards.
He could hear the scrambled footsteps of Andrew trying to keep up with his determined stride. Connor took a deep breath, trying to keep himself from lashing out. It became harder and harder to control his temper. He needed to remember he wasn’t that guy anymore. He didn’t lash out at the first unpleasant thing. That was the old him.
Who was this Andrew guy? He didn’t seem to be evil. Really, he was kind of like the guys Connor used to watch The X-Files with when he was in high school… Or at least, that he remembered watching The X-Files with in high school. Andrew didn’t at all seem like the type of person his father would hang out with.
Then, Lorne didn’t seem like the type of person Angel would hang out with. The war of Good vs Evil seemed to bring a lot of disparate people together. Perhaps this Andrew guy was someone Angel knew.
Then why did Connor not remember him? True, his memories were still a tiny bit fuzzy, but Connor figured he would have remembered someone like Andrew. He seemed like he would stick out. Maybe Andrew was someone Angel had known at Wolfram and Hart, like that Spike guy. Andrew did seem like he could’ve been some nervous little intern.
Whatever the answer was, Connor was still feeling uneasy. Why would Angel have sent someone else, rather than come himself? If he hadn’t been able to come himself, why didn’t he send Gunn, Wes, Lorne or Fred?
Connor’s stomach dropped when he thought about Fred. There had been something wrong with her when he’d seen her, when he’d still been Connor Reilly. She’d looked and acted so differently than Connor remembered her to be.
Connor ignored all of the looks from students who were glancing over at him dragging Andrew away. They probably thought they were having some sort of lovers’ quarrel. It didn’t matter to Connor. All that mattered is that he got Andrew away from the students so they could avoid eavesdroppers. When they finally got to the apartment, Connor turned to face Andrew. He looked over him appraisingly. Connor’s assessment of Andrew hadn’t changed in the few minutes since they were out in the Quad.
Andrew’s gaze darted around nervously. He fidgeted like a twitchy rodent, afraid of the slightest noise. No, this guy was definitely not evil. He wasn’t an opponent of Angel’s. He would have folded at the first sign of danger.
Connor furrowed his brow, shaking his head slowly at Andrew. He let out a small laugh, now feeling a little bit amused by the situation he found himself in. “Are you afraid of me?”
Andrew exhaled in relief. Had he thought that Connor was going to attack him the moment they were in private? Andrew took a step backwards. Well, that answered that question. It seemed like he still believed it just a little. “I have heard many stories about you in preparation for my visit. I am a bit hesitant about saying something you won’t like, Destroyer.”
Connor smirked. He was going to have to take advantage of that. It was going to be the only way to get the honest truth. He darted forward, grabbing Andrew by the collar, crushing his sunglasses in the process. “Too late.” He hauled Andrew three inches off the floor, slamming him against the door of his apartment. “Why are you here?”
“Angel! I was sent by Angel!” Andrew sputtered, flailing his arms. He grabbed Connor’s hand, trying to pry the iron grip off of him. There was no way he was going to be successful. He let his hands drop, going limp and shutting his eyes tightly, tears welling.
“I don’t believe you,” Connor snarled. It wasn’t true. He didn’t disbelieve Andrew. But there was still something not right. Andrew had made a mistake. He didn’t want the college student. He wanted the Destroyer. Calling that out in him had made Connor Reilly’s sweet disposition completely melted away. Connor would make him sorry for calling him out.
“He was supposed to call you!” Andrew rasped, limply struggling against Connor’s hold. He sobbed softly. “He was going to tell you what was going on! See? This is what happens when you don’t have conference calls.”
It was just getting too pathetic. Connor dropped Andrew to the ground, letting the poor guy fall into a heap. He reached up and rubbed his temples, feeling a massive headache starting to come on. “He left a message. I haven’t called him back yet.”
“Oh, nice move.” Andrew scowled and pulled himself to his feet, dusting himself off. His lower lip jutted out in a pout. He pointed to Connor, inching away from him. “Angel said you’d mellowed with those altered memories!”
The Connor Reilly persona slowly crept back. Connor gave Andrew an apologetic smile. He sighed deeply, shrugging slightly. He felt bad about what he’d just done. The poor guy was obviously terrified of him. “I’m sorry. Things have been a little tense around here. Come on.”
He opened up the door to his apartment and stepped inside. When he didn’t hear Andrew behind him, he looked back. Andrew was inching away slowly, pressed flat against the wall. Connor rolled his eyes and gestured into the apartment. “Listen, I’m really sorry. I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Just… Don’t call me the Destroyer. Let’s go to my apartment and you can tell me exactly what’s going on.”
Andrew gulped visibly and stepped towards the door hesitantly. Connor gestured for him to move quicker. “Come on! Seriously… It’s all right. I didn’t mean to freak you out. But that guy I was with? He knows nothing about this. I’d like to keep it that way.”
Finally, Andrew walked towards the door. He looked to Connor as he passed by. He smiled nervously. “People usually take it pretty well.”
“I don’t want to take any chances. He’s letting me live with him and his sister rent-free,” Connor said. He closed the door behind him and Andrew. When Andrew looked nervously at the closed door, Connor let out a deep sigh. “Seriously. Come on. I only kill demons.”
“I’ve known some demons that were all right,” Andrew said, still looking incredibly tense. He took a step back from Connor. Okay, that wasn’t really great. Connor didn’t like people inching away from him. “I mean most of them had the disposition of the Incredible Hulk with a wedgie. But there’s always one or two okay ones.”
Lorne had been okay. Cordelia had been– Well, Connor wasn’t really sure what she had been now. He had to wonder if he ever knew the real Cordy. Other than them, all the demons he met were of the crush, kill, destroy variety. “I suppose. I don’t think I’d ever hang out with one on a regular basis… Again.”
“It’s all about control,” Andrew explained. Now he looked a little bit excited. He took a step towards Connor, holding his hands up. “You can concentrate, say the right words and the demon is under your thrall.”
Connor cocked his head, considering what Andrew had just said. He had never thought of making demons work for him. It seems wrong. Even if it was a demon, he didn’t think anyone should be forced to do something out of their control. “Sounds like the Jedi Mind Trick.”
Andrew was absolutely grinning now. He rubbed his hands together, looking over Connor with bright eyes. “You are going to be the coolest assignment.”
“Assignment?” Connor frowned, shaking his head. “What assignment?”
“You have so much to learn, little one.” Andrew sighed, his voice taking on a very mysterious quality. He bowed his head, shaking it. “So much to learn.”
“Dude.” Connor sneered. He held up a hand to shut Andrew up. He was really unsure of this guy. “Unless you’re jonesing to get the crap beat out of you, I suggest you don’t call me ‘little one’.”
The mysterious smile faded from Andrew’s face. He cleared his throat nervously, nodding. He readjusted his coat, looking very uncomfortable in it all of the sudden. “So noted.”
Connor looked down. He wasn’t sure what to say. He had to admit, he was very curious as to what Andrew had to say. If he did have information about Angel, he wanted to know what it was. If he had the choice, he would have stood alongside Angel during the battle against Wolfram and Hart. “So…”
Andrew was looking around the apartment critically. He nodded his head in approval at the collection of model starships hanging from the ceiling. “You should be careful about inviting strangers in your home. You never know who is and isn’t a vampire.”
“Ummm…” Connor wasn’t sure if he should laugh or throw Andrew out. Andrew was complete and utterly mad. Connor fell down the couch. “You do realize we were just outside in the hot, late afternoon sun?”
“Very observant. Your father said you were very smart.” Andrew pursed his lips, eyeing Connor closely. He scratched his chin as he nodded. “Yes…. Very smart.”
After about a minute of intense scrutiny, Connor sat up straight. He shook his head. “You’re making me nervous. You want to tell me what the hell is going on? Who are you, why are you here and what happened to Angel?”
Andrew straightened up. He put a hand to his heart, bowing solemnly. “My own personal story of redemption is a long and complicated one. It started when I joined forces with Warren Meers and Jonathan Levinson forming the Evil Trio. Together we planned to take over Sun–“
Connor rested his chin against his hands, sighing deeply. He was a storyteller. Great. “Forget that first one. Just the second two. Why are you here and what happened to Angel?”
Andrew looked thoroughly put out at having his origins story disrupted. He tried to regain his minuscule sense of mystique. “So you would like me to tell you the tale of how Angel and his compatriots escaped the fiery grips of the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart?” He arched a brow, nodding his head firmly.
Connor nodded slowly. “Yeah. I really would.”
Andrew swept his hands out, as if he were setting a stage. “Three months ago, the vampyr with a soul Angel and his compatriots: the other vampyr with a soul, Spike, former demon goddess Illyria, renegade Watcher Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, the velvet-voiced demon Lorne and street thug with a heart of gold Charles Gunn decided to take on the Circle of the Black Thorn. With the First Evil brought to its incorporeal knees by yours truly, the Circle of the Black Thorn was the most evil organization in this realm of existence. Angel and his friends were victorious against the inner circle….”
Connor nodded along. There was something oddly compelling about the theatrics of Andrew’s storytelling. “I know this part. I was there. I fought that big guy in the suit. I mean, I don’t know who Illyria is. And where was Fred?”
Andrew’s expression softened. He sat down across from Connor. “Illyria is Fred. Well… Kind of. Fred’s body was infected by Illyria’s essence. Illyria was reborn inside of her.” Andrew paused. “It killed Fred.”
Connor felt his stomach drop. Fred had seemed weird when he’d been there. Of course, he hadn’t known her at the time. But things had been strange. Fred was dead. His relationship with her had been strained, as it had with everyone at Angel Investigations, but he’d still cared about her.
Andrew stayed sombre, his eyes downcast. “The part of the battle you were in was successful. Hamilton was defeated by Angel. Almost everyone was successful. But the battle came at a very high price. Wyndam-Pryce was murdered by the demon sorcerer extraordinaire Cyvus Vail.”
“Vail was the one who gave me my memories,” Connor said softly. He felt that pit in his stomach once again. Not only was Fred dead, Wesley was too. As difficult as it had been getting along with Angel’s friends, they were his family in a way.
“Should I keep going?” Andrew asked hesitantly.
Connor nodded, hoping that there was nothing else in the story that was going to cause that feeling to come back. He wanted the rest of Angel Investigations to be okay. But he wanted to know what had happened. “Yeah. Please.”
“Lorne, choosing to become a pacifist, much in the style of those ever-logical beings the Vulcans, left the group before the final battle could commence.” Andrew rubbed his hands together, his eyes glimmering maniacally. “The massacre had angered the malevolent Senior Partners. Now down to four intrepid Champions, one of who was bleeding profusely, they faced against a hellish army: thousands of troops, demons of all sorts. Things looked grim.”
Connor tightened his fists. He knew he shouldn’t have left Angel. He could have helped them fight. He felt a hint of fear in him. He had to believe the others would be okay. Losing Fred and Wesley was bad enough…
“Unbeknownst to his fellow warriors, Angel has contacted his former lover, Buffy the Slayer of the Vampyrs…”
Putting his head in his hands, Connor, leaned in, fascinated by the new development. He didn’t know Buffy himself, but he’d certainly heard about her. “I know my memories are a bit hazy, but isn’t it Vampire Slayer?”
Andrew waved off Connor’s question, continuing on with his story. “Realizing her two loves had not fallen to the Dark Side, Buffy abandoned her swarthy new boyfriend to fight by their side. She brought with her an army of Slayers, witches and powerful yet humble Watchers. The forces of darkness were temporarily blindsided, long enough for our heroes to escape. They fled across the globe, to rejoin the stronghold created by Buffy and her friends. Together, they would now face all hardships before them.” Having finished his long explanation, Andrew collapsed in the desk chair. He sighed deeply, mopping his brow. He fanned himself with one hand, pulling at his coat with the other. “Man, I’m hot in this coat. I don’t know how Spike does it.”
Connor nodded silently. He stood up and began to pace. He did a few laps of the room. He felt a sense of relief wash over him. Angel was safe at the very least. So was Gunn and Lorne. On his fourth round, Connor stopped. “So you’re saying… My father was saved by a bunch of girls and ran for his life.”
Andrew shifted in his seat, pulling at his duster. “I don’t think I am comfortable with that synopsis of the events.”
Connor rounded the couch to sit back down. He couldn’t stop frowning, so many questions going through his mind. He decided to go with the most important one: “So where is Angel now?”
“Ah,” Andrew steepled his fingers. “The Senior Partners are still looking for your father and his friends. They have been on the move. While they travel, they look for new Slayers for the Watcher’s Council. Last I heard, Angel and his lycanthropic lover were in Cairo.”
Connor plucked the Post-It off of the coffee table. He stared down at the number. He chewed on his lower lip, reading the numbers several times. He could feel Andrew peering over at the tiny note. There was only one thing Connor could think of saying. He blurted it out before he had time to rethink it. “I want to talk to Angel.”
Andrew nodded. “He’ll be anxious to hear from you.”
Connor picked up the phone. If Angel was really in Cario, his parents were going to kill him when he asked them to pay his part of the phone bill. Maybe he could lie and tell them he called a 900 number. It would certainly be easier to explain than this.
Andrew leaned in close to Connor, too close for Connor’s liking. “Ask for Geraldo Angel,”
“I can do this mys–” Connor scrunched up his nose, processing what Andrew had just said. “Geraldo?”
Andrew shrugged. “He’s incognito.”
“Okay. I’ll do that. Now can you please… This is kind of a private conversation.” He turned his back to Andrew, stretching the phone cord as far as it would go. He wanted as much distance as he could get between him and Andrew.
Andrew looked around the room. He snatched up Jamie’s copy of The Dark Knight Returns , flipping through it. He sat down on the couch. “Ooh… I haven’t read this since my copy was cut in half by the buzz saw.”
Connor finished dialling and held the receiver to his ear. He gripped it so tightly he thought it might break under the pressure. It rang five times before he heard the phone pick up. A groggy female voice answered. “Hello?”
He paused, unsure what to say. He hadn’t expected someone other than Angel to answer. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the blood from rushing in his ears. “Hi. Can I speak to Geraldo Angel?”
“Hm. Hold on.”
There was the sound of movement and muttered cursing. Connor felt his stomach twist into knots.
“I just got to sleep, Andrew!” Angel’s voice was savage, despite the sleep still evident in it. “It’s four in the morning here.”
“….Dad?” Connor didn’t know when he had lost his voice, but it came out raspy.
“Connor.” The tone of Angel’s voice immediately shifted. The anger and drowsiness immediately melted away. “You got my message. I’m sorry about that, I thought you were…”
“Yeah, I know.” Connor cracked a small smile, turning to look at Andrew, who was happily engrossed in his comic. “I can understand why you would get ticked off with him.”
Angel let out a quiet laugh. “So Andrew’s there, huh? You didn’t try to kill him, did you? People have a habit of doing that.”
Connor paced the hall. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He was just a bundle of nerves. “Why is he here?”
“Didn’t Andrew explain everything to you?”
“He told me how you guys got away from the Senior Partners. Did it really happen the way he said it?”
“Probably… less grandiose.” Angel said carefully. “Yeah, Buffy and Faith and their Slayers saved us. We wouldn’t have made it through if they hadn’t shown up.”
Connor ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Why couldn’t you tell me all of this? You sent someone here. To my school. My roommate saw him. And, well, Andrew isn’t exactly inconspicuous. I don’t want the entire campus knowing I fight demons.”
“You have been fighting demons.” Angel’s voice filled with panic. “I knew it. I knew you would be fighting again. Andrew didn’t tell you everything, did he?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Angel,” Connor shook his head. He felt like he might be sick, he was so nervous. He definitely didn’t like where this was going. “Just tell me.”
“The Circle of the Black Thorn is looking for you,” Angel explained.
“I thought you’d killed them.” Connor was drawing deep breaths. It had been a coincidence that he had been fighting more lately. No one was looking for him. He had to believe that.
“We did take them out, but they’ll be replaced. The Senior Partners will need an Earthly contingent. The lower beings are all vying for those spots. Willow did a locator spell. A lot of demons are converging in your area. The Senior Partners know you’re my son. They know you helped me kill Hamilton. Most likely, they’ve decided the first open spot goes to whoever can kill you.”
Connor felt like his heart was going to burst from his chest. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes tightly. “What am I supposed to do?”
“I’m leaving the choice up to you,” Angel’s voice lost the panicked edge. He sounded calm and gentle, trying to be comforting to Connor. He was being a dad for once. “I don’t want to force you into anything. But I see only three choices.”
“What are they?” Connor cradled his head in his free hand. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Really, he just wanted to wake up and discover this day had been a dream. His dreams were weird. He couldn’t be sure.
“You could come back with Andrew to England. The Watcher’s Council will give you protection.”
Scratch one. Connor couldn’t abandon his family and friends. This was his life, even if it had been caused by a spell. He couldn’t just run off to England with some weirdo in a leather jacket.
When he didn’t reply, Angel continued on. “I could come to Stanford.”
“They’d kill you,” Connor whispered. He didn’t want to make Angel come out of hiding– into certain danger– just to protect him.
“There’s one last option.” Angel paused. If he breathed, Connor was pretty sure he’d be taking a breath to prepare himself for what he was going to say. “Andrew is a Watcher. You know what a Watcher is, right? They teach and guide Slayers. I know you’re not a Slayer, but you’re special. There’s no Slayer in California at the moment… Not one that’s trained. You could take that position. The council has given us approval. Andrew will stay on as your Watcher, report back to us and give you any assistance you need.”
Connor moved the receiver away from his ear. He could hear Angel calling his name as he lowered it to his side. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. His body didn’t want to use his superhuman speed. He let the phone slip out of his fingers. The tension in the phone cord snapped it back. The receiver hit the desk, knocking over a pile of books there. He strode across the living room.
Andrew jumped up, dropping the comic. He smiled brightly. “Hey there! How did everything go?”
“I have to go get some coffee,” Connor muttered, opening the front door. He nodded, sure of what he needed to do. “Yeah. I definitely need some coffee.”
Andrew followed close on his heels as he walked down the hall. “What did Angel say? Did he mention me?”
Connor nodded vaguely. “Yeah. He said people like to try and kill you.” A fog had settled on his mind. He couldn’t think. Angel wanted him to fight demons. Sure, he killed a few here and there, but it wasn’t like a job or anything. If he were to go along with this plan, he would be reporting to a council and everything. That didn’t sound good at all. His life as he knew it was over. All because he had gone to Angel to fight that big guy.
No, Cyvus Vail had ended it, when he ran him down with that car and he had gotten up with barely a scratch. It was over because this was never his life. His life was with the demons and darkness, not co-eds and lectures.
But then, everyone told him he was a fighter. He wasn’t going to give up this life without a hell of a battle. “You can go back to England, Andrew. I don’t need a Watcher.”
“But Angel entrusted me with this mission!” Andrew kept knocking into the back of Connor’s shoes. “Rupert said it was a great opportunity, seeing as how you’re the first human male with abilities rivalling a Slayer.”
Connor began to run. He wanted to get as far away from Andrew as possible. He wanted to go back to being Connor Reilly. He wanted to go to class and learn all of the intricate details of database configuration and software engineering, to discuss with Jamie who would win in a fight: Juggernaut or the Blob, to shamelessly look down Salome’s blouse as she fished his balled up notebook paper from under the table at the CoHo.
Connor had just opened the door to the CoHo when Andrew caught up with him. Andrew threw his hand against the door, trying to stop Connor from opening it. He was winded, wheezing for breath. “You are a Slayer, one of the girls in all the world with the strength and skill to kill the vampires.”
Gripping the door handle so tightly it bent, Connor turned to Andrew and scowled at him. “Do I look like a girl?”
Andrew grabbed the stitch in his side. He grimaced. “You don’t really want me to answer that, do you?”
Connor rolled his eyes and opened the door with absolutely no effort, sending Andrew sprawling to the ground. “Go away.”
Andrew scrambled back to his feet, chasing after Connor and grabbing his shoulder. Connor was very tempted to flip him, but in front of this large a crowd it would be a fatal mistake for his social career. Instead, he just turned to face Andrew, giving him as menacing a look as he could muster.
Andrew grimaced, shrugging slightly. “I memorized the speech for normal Slayers. You’re a Boyslayer. The Boyslayer.”
“Boyslayer?” Connor shook his head, snorting derisively. “Dude, you have got to be kidding. Listen, I’m not interested. I’m doing fine on my own. I haven’t died yet.”
Andrew pulled himself to his full– unimpressive– height. He puffed out his chest. “There are dark forces gathering, pal. And they’re coming after you, Destroyer.” He stabbed a finger into Connor’s chest.
Connor looked down at the offending digit. He then looked back up at Andrew, trying to keep a coolly intimidating look on his face. “I think you better reconsider doing that.”
Andrew crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t backing down now. While he might not seem like an intimidating opponent, Connor had to admire his courage. “And I think you’re going to ignore this particular problem until it swims up and bites you in the ass!”
Connor was starting to understand why people wanted to kill Andrew. “You’re completely insane.”
Andrew sighed, shaking his head sadly. “You have a destiny. Blessed with skills even Slayers don’t have. You know you can’t avoid fighting forever. You don’t have to decide this minute. I’m staying at the Mermaid Inn. Give me a call if you change your mind.”
With one final look at Connor, Andrew turned on his heels and strode out, his jacket flowing behind him.
Connor let out a frustrated, strangled groan, raking his fingers roughly through his hair. He shook off the anger and pasted on a smile. Andrew was gone, and he wouldn’t bother calling him later. He would just go back to his normal life. Bounding up to the cash register, he grinned at Salome. “Hey Sal.”
Salome was frowning at him. “You okay, Ace? You and that guy seemed pretty close to throwing down.”
“It’s fine.” He shook his head furiously, praying no one had overheard the actual words they were saying. He just needed to shrug it off, pretend it hadn’t happened. Go back to his normal life. Starting with the obvious. “You want to go out with me?”
“Sure.” Salome shrugged and vaulted over the counter. She leaned against it and looked at her watch. “I’m just getting off in… Three, two… Now.”
Connor was too dumbfounded to do anything but follow Salome. He rubbed his temples. Now he was sure this was a dream. Angel’s phone message had messed with his head and he was having an extremely bizarre dream.
But, no, that didn’t make any sense. His dreams about demons were never this complex. They were flashing images of blood, fleeting feelings of terror and anger.
“You’ve just thrown me completely off.” Connor finally managed to say as Salome stopped in an alley. “I ask you out, you say maybe and deflect… It’s our thing. I like our thing. It’s fun. It’s harmless. Why are you saying yes?”
The sun was starting to set. The sky was bathed in a warm, orange glow. Salome looked up. She smiled brightly, letting out a small laugh. “You know, all this time, I never would have pegged you.”
“Pegged me for what?” Connor felt his stomach lurch. He didn’t like where this was going. “What are you talking about?”
“Morpheus should be a bit more careful who he talks about ‘destiny’ in front of.” She was smirking, leaning casually against the wall. She rubbed her hands together gleefully.
Connor reached out, grabbing Salome’s wrist. He tightened his grip around it. He tried to control his anger, but blind panic was superseding it. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough.” Salome began to struggle against him, trying to free her wrist. “Connor, let go. No one else heard. I’ve got really good hearing. But it was just me.”
He wouldn’t– couldn’t– let her go. What if she told someone else what he was? Then, he realized something. Something that was even worse than Salome overhearing the conversation. “How did you understand what we were talking about?”
As Salome struggled to get away, Connor’s fingers slipped beneath the purple bracelet on her wrist. The thin cord holding it together snapped, the beads scattering across the pavement.
It was like a wave had passed over Salome. Her skin turned from its pale tone to purple, a dark mottling of darker tones framing her face. Her eyes turned from dark brown to an unearthly light blue. “You dick! Do you know how hard is it to buy glamours on a barista’s salary?”