The Demon Detective

The Trap

The call from Lockley came two nights later. Her voice was tight on the phone. "Another one. Docks. Warehouse 7. Don't touch anything. Just... look."

The warehouse was a giant, rusty shell by the water. Police tape fluttered in the cold ocean wind. Lockley stood outside, waiting for them. She looked tired.

"Inside," she said, lifting the tape.

The warehouse was empty except for one thing. A third Wolfram & Hart lawyer was on the concrete floor. His neck was broken too. But this time, there was a symbol painted in what looked like ash on the floor next to him. The thorny knot. The Ascension Mark.

"This was left for us," Angel said, his voice low.

"The mark?" Lockley asked. "What does it mean?"

"It's a signature," Wesley said, bending down. "And a message. The killer is connected to the marking ritual."

Suddenly, the heavy metal doors of the warehouse slammed shut with a deafening **BOOM**. The sound echoed in the vast space. The lights high above flickered and went out, plunging them into deep, almost total darkness.

"It's a trap!" Gunn yelled, pulling his ax.

A laugh echoed from the shadows. It was a dry, rasping sound. "Not a trap. A test."

A figure dropped from the high rafters, landing silently in the middle of the room. It was a vampire. But not like any they had seen. He was lean, dressed in old, dusty clothes. His eyes were not yellow, but a calm, cold blue. He didn't snarl. He looked... thoughtful.

"Who are you?" Angel demanded, stepping in front of Lockley.

"My name is Penn," the vampire said. "I've been watching you, Angelus. Or do you prefer 'Angel' now? The vampire with a soul. How poetic."

"You work for Wolfram & Hart," Angel said.

"I did," Penn said, starting to slowly circle them. "They promised me power. The Ascension. They marked me." He pulled open his shirt. On his chest was the thorny knot, but it was scarred, silver, and dead. "It worked. I became stronger. Faster. A perfect weapon. But I kept my mind. My will. Their magic is flawed. I am what they wanted to make, but I am not their slave."

"So you're killing them," Lockley said, her gun aimed at his heart.

"They lied," Penn said simply. "They owe a debt. I am collecting. And I wanted to meet the famous cursed one. To see if the stories are true. To see if a conscience makes you weak." He looked at Angel with curiosity. "Does it hurt? All the time?"

"Every day," Angel said.

"Fascinating," Penn whispered. Then he moved.

He was a blur. He didn't go for Angel. He went for Lockley. He was testing Angel's "goodness."

Angel was just as fast. He shoved Lockley out of the way as Penn's claws sliced through the air where her neck had been. Angel and Penn crashed together in a tangle of speed and fury.

Gunn ran to help, but Penn kicked a pallet of wood, sending it skidding across the floor to block him. Wesley tried to remember a spell.

Lockley fired her gun. **BANG! BANG!** The bullets hit Penn in the back. He staggered but didn't fall. He turned his head, annoyed. "That tickles, detective."

Angel used the distraction. He landed a solid punch to Penn's jaw. Penn's head snapped back. He smiled, a thin line of black blood on his lip. "Good! There's the demon! But can you let him out to play?"

Penn attacked with terrifying speed. He was stronger than a normal vampire, fueled by the failed mark. His fists were like hammers. Angel took hit after hit, blocking, dodging, but getting driven back.

"You fight like a human!" Penn taunted. "You hold back! Let the monster out! Show me your true face!"

Angel felt the beast inside, rippling under his skin. It wanted out. It wanted to match this creature's rage. It would be so easy...

He saw Lockley, scrambling back, her face shocked by the speed of the fight. He saw his friends. He remembered the cold of the soul-chill. The ice of his past.

**No.**

With a roar that was all human anger, Angel grabbed a fallen metal pipe. He feinted left, then swung low, smashing Penn's knee. There was a sickening c***k.

Penn howled, stumbling. Angel didn't stop. He drove the pipe into Penn's stomach, then swept his legs out from under him. Penn fell hard on his back. Angel was on him in an instant, the sharp, broken end of the pipe pressed to the scarred symbol on Penn's chest.

"Your will is your own?" Angel growled, breathing hard. "Then choose. Dust now. Or leave this city forever. The Wolfram & Hart debt is not yours to collect."

Penn looked up, shocked. He was beaten, not by a monster, but by a man fighting with control. The curiosity in his blue eyes burned brighter. "You are a wonder," he rasped. "A beautiful, terrible mistake."

"Choose," Angel repeated.

Penn nodded slowly. "I choose to see what happens next." In a flash of movement, he kicked Angel off him, rolled to his feet, and limped at incredible speed into the deep shadows of the warehouse. A door creaked open somewhere, and he was gone.

The warehouse was silent again. The only sound was their heavy breathing.

Lockley walked over, her gun still pointed at the dark where Penn had vanished. She slowly lowered it. She looked at Angel, his face still fierce from the fight. She had seen his strength, his speed.

"You're not human," she said, not a question.

Angel didn't answer.

"What was he?" she asked, her voice quieter.

"A mistake," Angel said, echoing Penn's words. "A powerful one. He's gone now."

"Will he keep killing?"

"I don't know."

Lockley holstered her gun. She looked at the dead lawyer, then at the symbol on the floor. Her world had just gotten much bigger and much stranger. "Clean this up," she said, her cop-mask back on. "The body, the symbol. Make it go away. I'll file the report as an unsolved. For now."

She walked toward the door, then stopped. She didn't look back. "You stopped him without killing him. That... matters."

She left.

Cordelia let out a huge breath. "Well. That was intense. And we're not arrested. Go team."

"We have a new problem," Wesley said. "Penn. He's an independent variable. A wild weapon. And he's fascinated by Angel."

Gunn wiped his ax blade. "He's also crazy strong. If he decides *we're* the interesting ones, we're in trouble."

Angel looked at the scar on the floor where the symbol had been. Wolfram & Hart made Penn. Now he was loose. Their creations were coming back to haunt them. And one of them was now haunting Angel.

The war had many fronts. The law. The firm. And now, their own twisted offspring. The night in LA was getting darker.