___connor_____ (___connor_____) wrote in the_bloodofman,
___connor_____
___connor_____
the_bloodofman

Chapter 8

New York City, New York
Angel Investigations
Connor


"No, Father," I say into the phone for the millionth time. It seems someone - and I use that term loosely - said that his help was needed while on the phone to my Father.

"It's just... - No, I know... - No! You don't need to come down here. Spike was just being... - Yes, I know you're always willing to help but... - Look I've got to go soon and... - Yes, I'll tell her. Goodbye."

I'm going to stake Spike - if he ever shows.

Hanging up the phone, I check the time again. The play starts in four hours and if Spike doesn't get here soon, I'll have to meet these Gra'lacks alone. Not that I can't handle it - or them - but I'd prefer not to have to kill anything today. Plus, they don't like to be kept waiting…we seem to have that in common.

Oh, great…here he is. He walks in through the office door, cocky, like this place is his as well, that shit-kicking grin ever-present on his face. If only he knew I was planning his death just minutes before. He wouldn't be smiling like this then.

“So, you decided to show up. I was beginning to think these New York demons were too much for your lazy Californian ass,” I chide as I flop onto the couch.
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