Your Enemies Closer




Chapter Eighteen:

Setting---The Hyperion Hotel, 1:20 am

Lorne watched the other three go out the front door of the hotel and then stood up. He'd locked on the waves the demon that had attacked Fred gave off. He nearly laughed. Three years ago, he would never have thought of using his powers like this. Back in Pylea, he'd resisted the training because he'd seen the sacred jousts from both sides. Lorne was well aware of his Switzerland nature and he didn't mind.

And then, he'd met Wesley and everyone and they'd changed him. He'd had a family and he'd clearly chosen a side, something he'd never thought he would do. And after everything had gone to hell in a hand basket, leaving him with Fred, he'd had no choice but to use his powers like they were meant to be used. Goodbye music, hello violence.

And it was all for Fred. Everything he did was for her and he wouldn't have it any other way. She was his hope and he wasn't going to let her die because of Angelus and Cordelia. He'd lost an eye to them already and he wasn't going to lose her. Not today, not ever.

Getting up from his seat on the stairs, he stretched, grabbed his favorite axe and smiled at his mirrored reflection in the glass on the doors. He was about to kick ass and do it in style. Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok Clan always did it in style.

He left the hotel, glancing back at the hulking white mass and praying he'd make it in time to save her. He didn't think she could stand that many visions for long.

He prayed she was strong enough to last the night.


Setting---Wolfram & Hart,

The battle was already raging when they arrived. Wesley scanned the courtyard in front of the law firm and saw several piles of ash and a few fallen human bodies. Bile rose in his throat and he grasped his weapon tighter in his hand. This was bad, very bad. At least they had the commando guys here, which was a huge help because the ninety or so Hunter's out on the makeshift battlefield were a force to be reckoned with.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lilah with her cell phone attached to her ear, barking orders to someone across the street. There was an explosion off to his right suddenly and he was knocked to his feet. Faith immediately loomed over him, helping him up with a concerned look on her face.

"Don't poop out on me yet, Watcher. We've got a big night ahead of us." She said, clutching his hand in her own with more strength than was absolutely necessary. "Be right back...this is too good to resist."

"Wait...Faith..." Wesley grabbed her arm and pulled her back, kissing her quickly on the lips. He pulled away and she grinned up at him. "Be careful. I still need you."

"Don't worry about me, Wes. I'll be right back..." Faith said, kissing him once more. Then she let go and ran across the street, feet kicking and arms punching with a fury he wasn't sure was humanly possible. All around her, black clad commandos were holding their own with the Hunters. It was clear both sides were well trained armies... Even as Wesley finished that thought, it suddenly hit him like a punch in the gut.

The third sign. The battle of two great armies. The Hunter's and Wolfram & Hart's elite team. Wesley's blood ran cold and he swayed on his feet. That left one last sign. He calculated the time up in his head. Things were going too fast. Much faster than his calculations had indicated. Had he made a mistake?

According to the numbers he'd run, the Apocalypse should happen about six hours after the first sign occurred. But what if he'd been wrong? He could have been off, which meant they needed to get to Angelus and Cordelia NOW.

Wesley rushed into the battle, heading for the first vampire he saw. He prayed this one would know what he needed or they were all fucked. He grabbed it around the throat and threw it against the wall, sparks swimming across his vision. He needed Faith for this, but he was too damned stubborn to call her over.

"Where are Angelus and Cordelia?"

"Not telling!"
The vampire spat, yellow eyes burning. Wesley vaguely recognized the vampire and thought her name was Amy. He couldn't be sure and he didn't really care.

"I think you'd better." Wesley placed the blade of the sword to the vampire's neck and dared her to move. "Tell me or I'll kill you."

"You're going to do it anyway..." Amy or whomever she was spat back at him, lifting her neck up, inviting him to slice through her.

"True, but you might as well make yourself useful before I do it." Wesley smiled and increased the pressure on her neck. "I know you know where they are."

"Yo, Amy. Why don't you just tell him?" Faith said, coming up behind him, her chest heaving and sweat running down her forehead. There was ash smeared across her cheeks.

Amy hissed at her and bared her teeth. "Fuck you Slayer! Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you shit!"

"Fine then, kill her." Faith was rewarded by an explosion of ash as Wesley's sword severed the vampire's head from its shoulders. "Crap...guess we'll have to grab another one."

"Yes...I... He moved to step forward when something inside of him struck, making him sink to his knees. Faith rushed to his side and tried to help him up, but he waved her away.

"Are you okay, Wes?"

"I'm fi--" His response was lost in a moan as the feeling redoubled. He suddenly felt that empty feeling in him twang like a harp string, stretch tight and then twang again. The hollow in his chest expanded and threatened to choke the life out of him.

"Wesley? Wesley???" Faith screamed in his ear as if he couldn't hear her. She was panicked, her face pale and her hands shaking as she held him upright. "What's going on?"

But Wesley was lost in the tugging feeling in his soul, pulling him willy-nilly northward. Flashes of sand and the sea came to him and he gasped, the feel of sand spilling from his mouth, heavy and thick. Seawater swirled into his lungs and he coughed, trying to grasp onto the shore. All he found were Faith's arms around him.

"Wesley?? Please be okay...come back to me!" Faith all but screamed at him, pleading, her face white as a sheet. Wesley gasped and looked up at her. He blinked several times and felt the pulling grow stronger.

"I know where they are...."


Setting---Wolfram & Hart, 2:20am

Lilah shot the crossbow in her hands and was satisfied by a whooshing sound as the vampire turned to dust. "Haha! Got you, ya son of bitch!"

"Good one, Miss Morgan."

Lilah turned on her heel and regarded Leonard Morris with a weathered eye. "Thank you sir." Morris ignored her and surveyed the courtyard before the office building with an amused expression. "Well?"

"Well what?" Morris turned an arched eyebrow her way. "Well the Apocalypse is happening? Or well, I don't know where Angelus and his demon bitch are? Or, well, I have no clue where Wyndam-Pryce and the Slayer have gone?"

Lilah blanched and looked around the still-violent battlefield. In the fight, she hadn't noticed where the two had gone; she'd been more occupied with staying alive. Now that things were calmer, she could afford a look around, grimacing as she saw splashes of blood everywhere and no few of her troops down and out for the count. "Shit."

"Deep shit, actually Lilah." Morris smiled. "You know what we talked about."

"Yes sir." Lilah licked her lips, remembering all too well the conversation that day. She knew that Wesley was going to kill Angelus and Wolfram & Hart couldn't have that. He died, then Lilah died---it was part of her contract. She was going to have to stop them. "Consider it done."

She started to walk away, toward the nearest alive vampire. If they knew anything, then Lilah would get it out of them. "Oh Miss Morgan?" Lilah stopped and turned her attention back on her boss. "Make sure you stop the prophecy in the process. That is our number one goal."

"But sir...I'm not sure... Lilah stammered, unsure of how she was going to stop Wesley and Faith from killing Angelus without stopping them from destroying the world. Her head nearly spun as she thought of it.

"Make it happen. Or you're dead."

"Yes sir." She turned around once more and headed back onto the battlefield. She stopped dead in her tracks as she spotted a hauntingly familiar head of red hair hidden in the shadows, a vampire in her hands.

What the hell?


Setting---Wolfram & Hart, 2:30am

Justine tried not to break down as she stared at the vampire in her hands. She recognized him and tried to pretend that she didn't. In fact, she'd nearly run the other way when she'd followed the police scanner's reports about the battle. To see so many people she had once cared for being stricken down the vampires they were, disgusted her.

She wanted to kill the ones responsible for this and she knew exactly who to blame. She'd been waiting long enough, waiting for the damned prophecy or whatever to come to pass so she could kill every last one of them. So she could complete Daniel's work and her own. Now it was happening and she was ready, despite the sick feeling in her stomach. She knew it was right.

Without the mission, there was nothing in this life for her.

So now looking into the face of the bleeding, wounded vampire in her hands, her back screaming in pain, she forced her sorrow away and turned into the cold bitch she knew she could be. "Where are Angelus and that bitch of his?"


"Tell me, Michel!"

"Thought you were dead, man!"

"I am tell me..."

"Overheard them talking. They said something about going to doom or something, I think. Shit, if you're dead why didn't you join up? The Hunter's..." Blood frothed out of Michel's jagged mouth and Justine noticed he had a stake crammed into his back, probably right above the heart. He was clinging to un-life, only he didn't know it.

"The Hunter's are dead, Michel. And are you." Justine jerked the stake downward and grimaced when it connected with the still tissue of his heart. Michel turned to dust in her hands and she felt her stomach lurching. Fuck...this was getting harder and harder to do.

"Doom? Doom...Point Dume? How fucking ironic. And perfect for what I want." Justine said as she wiped the dust from her fingers. Looking around at the battlefield, she smiled. Soon, everything would be righted and the world could go on.

They would all die and her work would be done. She took off northward, towards the shore, never noticing the dark-haired woman following her all the way.

Chapter 19