Birthday Party
"Feeling better, I trust?" Holland Manners asked her, all benevolent pater familias, the phone even carrying the subtle note of condescension he always had when talking to her.
"Like my old self again," Darla said, and was sure he was beaming. He would be.
"Splendid. I understand you girls have been on a little spree," Holland replied and went on blithely, just in the same smug and benevolent manner. "Why settle for a spree, when you could have - a - say - a massacre?"
Well. Darla had always given her clients what they wanted, and Holland Manners, who had bought her for the price of his protegé's hand, used her and apparantly intended to continue using her certainly qualified. For such a clever man, Holland Manners certainly had an interesting blind spot. Over a year of encounters with her boy, and he still didn't understand just who he was dealing with. Or what a vampire truly could be. Some of the anger that burned in her ever since she saw Drusilla come in and understood the lawyers' plans in fulll had been abated by her violent reconciliation with Drusilla and a first few victims, but there was more than enough left.
"A party, Grandmum?" Drusilla said, her dark eyes lighting up.
"Oh, yes," Darla said. "It's my birthday, is it not? Let's have ourselves a birthday party."
It all started very satisfying, with Holland's smugness crumbling and universal fear rising. Except from Lindsey, which was intriguing. She hadn't decided what to do about Lindsey yet. Some of her anger was for him, too. He must have known she was dying, probably long before he told her; he definitely had known about Drusilla, had been meeting her for weeks, but had waited until the moment Darla had no longer wanted to be a vampire and said so out loud. Which meant, among other things, he must have bugged her motel room.
She was still in two minds when Angel showed up. So that's it, Darla thought. It would end here, in this wine cellar. He'd kill her again, not even for a girl he thought he loved this time, but for a couple of humans who had tried to play both of them.
No, he wouldn't. She wouldn't let him. Not again. Would she? The alternative was staking him, and that was the one thing she had never been able to do.
"Come on, love. I never did get that good-bye kiss."
He looked at her, and for the first time, she could not read his eyes.
"You will. But not tonight."
She understood the implication before the humans did, and while Lilah pleaded with Angel to help them and Holland followed suit, the dark joy of it made her smile. So there was hope, then. She thought hope was gone when she woke up and found themselves divided by his soul, again, but she had been wrong. It was truly her birthday party, and she had just been given a treat.
"Daddy," Drusilla whispered while Holland whined something about negotations. The man just didn't know when to shut up, Darla thought, and decided to do it for him. For all the pride Holland Manners had taken in being the consumate professional, he really should appreciate that his firm's declared aim of turning Angel dark had finally come within reach, but no, he had to haggle about the price. Darla despised hagglers, always had. Lindsey remained frozen on the spot, still not pleading in the midst of the ensuing chaos, and that was the moment she made a decision.
Call it a gift from a pro to a pro, Lindsey, she thought. It's my birthday, and I'm feeling generous.
What he had done, both helping her and using her, didn't deserve death. Clearly, it deserved a promotion.
"Like my old self again," Darla said, and was sure he was beaming. He would be.
"Splendid. I understand you girls have been on a little spree," Holland replied and went on blithely, just in the same smug and benevolent manner. "Why settle for a spree, when you could have - a - say - a massacre?"
Well. Darla had always given her clients what they wanted, and Holland Manners, who had bought her for the price of his protegé's hand, used her and apparantly intended to continue using her certainly qualified. For such a clever man, Holland Manners certainly had an interesting blind spot. Over a year of encounters with her boy, and he still didn't understand just who he was dealing with. Or what a vampire truly could be. Some of the anger that burned in her ever since she saw Drusilla come in and understood the lawyers' plans in fulll had been abated by her violent reconciliation with Drusilla and a first few victims, but there was more than enough left.
"A party, Grandmum?" Drusilla said, her dark eyes lighting up.
"Oh, yes," Darla said. "It's my birthday, is it not? Let's have ourselves a birthday party."
It all started very satisfying, with Holland's smugness crumbling and universal fear rising. Except from Lindsey, which was intriguing. She hadn't decided what to do about Lindsey yet. Some of her anger was for him, too. He must have known she was dying, probably long before he told her; he definitely had known about Drusilla, had been meeting her for weeks, but had waited until the moment Darla had no longer wanted to be a vampire and said so out loud. Which meant, among other things, he must have bugged her motel room.
She was still in two minds when Angel showed up. So that's it, Darla thought. It would end here, in this wine cellar. He'd kill her again, not even for a girl he thought he loved this time, but for a couple of humans who had tried to play both of them.
No, he wouldn't. She wouldn't let him. Not again. Would she? The alternative was staking him, and that was the one thing she had never been able to do.
"Come on, love. I never did get that good-bye kiss."
He looked at her, and for the first time, she could not read his eyes.
"You will. But not tonight."
She understood the implication before the humans did, and while Lilah pleaded with Angel to help them and Holland followed suit, the dark joy of it made her smile. So there was hope, then. She thought hope was gone when she woke up and found themselves divided by his soul, again, but she had been wrong. It was truly her birthday party, and she had just been given a treat.
"Daddy," Drusilla whispered while Holland whined something about negotations. The man just didn't know when to shut up, Darla thought, and decided to do it for him. For all the pride Holland Manners had taken in being the consumate professional, he really should appreciate that his firm's declared aim of turning Angel dark had finally come within reach, but no, he had to haggle about the price. Darla despised hagglers, always had. Lindsey remained frozen on the spot, still not pleading in the midst of the ensuing chaos, and that was the moment she made a decision.
Call it a gift from a pro to a pro, Lindsey, she thought. It's my birthday, and I'm feeling generous.
What he had done, both helping her and using her, didn't deserve death. Clearly, it deserved a promotion.