Chapter Six

As extensive as Angel's personal library had become, it contained very little useful information on Trog history; although this seemed to be because there was very little information on Trog history. The earliest accounts put them in the Baltic Sea region only about 2,500 years ago, with some accounts saying they came from deep within the earth and others saying they came from the stars.

Either way, all sources described how Trog demons kept violently private, and then listed various ways to kill them. It looked like Angel was going to have to find more primary sources to consult.

He suited up for venturing out, both arming and armoring himself, and took his car to Genius in a Bottle. Normally he would have walked or taken public transit, but he felt like A Mhuirnín offered him an extra layer of protection, if not stealth (and it wasn't like his place wasn't being watched, anyway).

Reginald Blu greeted Angel as he entered, floating over with a grin and a, "How can I help you today?"

"I'm looking into Trog history," Angel told him, and noted how the corners of Blu's eyes twitched a little. Word of Angel's tiff with them had reached him, it seemed. "Ever hear of any primary sources on them?" Angel asked as if he hadn't noticed. "Do they have their own written history?"

"If they do, it's closely guarded," Blu said, looking disappointed to admit it. "I haven't heard of such thing, although they're not an unintelligent lot. I have one or two scholastic regulars who are of the Trog clan. I wouldn't be surprised if they do have a written history that they don't share."

Angel nodded, shoulders slumping a little. "You couldn't give me the names of those regulars, could you?"

Blu looked deeply uncertain, and Angel got it: in their world there was an expectation of privacy with these sorts of establishments. Shopkeepers wouldn't be able to stay in business if their customers could be so easily exposed to enemies; plans for surprise curses and poisons revealed before they could be implemented. Most of the shopkeepers adopted a fairly strict policy of "not remembering" the sorts of things their customers got up to. But Angel didn't care what the Trog scholars were getting up to; he just wanted to talk to them.

"I don't need to know what they bought," Angel added to Blu. "I don't know what you've heard about what's going on, but I just want names."

The corner of Blu's mouth twitched. "I've heard you have it in for 'em," Blu replied softly. "I've heard you said you'd kill 'em all."

Angel tried to maintain a neutral expression as he realized he couldn't exactly correct Blu. Emily needed to believe that Angel had killed Yurrg when this was all over. He couldn't go around telling people that he had no such intentions.

"It's just a job," Angel said softly after a moment. "I've got nothing against them personally. It's only Yurrg I'm after; just to fulfill a contract."

Blu let out a long breath through his pointed nose. "Normally I don't mind sharing regulars' names," he said. "Plenty of folk come in here; my customers aren't secret. But in a case like this, Angel…" Blu shook his head. "I'm in a difficult position, here."

"I understand," Angel replied. "I swear, I just want to talk to these scholars."

"But for what reason, if you're on a contract kill?" Blu asked, confused.

Angel shook his head. "I can't say, due to the sensitivity of the situation."

Blu let out another long breath through his nose and shifted his weight. After a moment of deliberation, he nodded once. "Gratay comes in here most often," he said softly. "But she's difficult to… Well, she'll barely say a word to me. Her apprentice, El'so, comes in less often but I've actually managed to hold brief conversations with her. I would start with her."

Angel nodded gratefully. "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

Blu nodded. "I hope you don't make me regret it."

It's not easy to find someone with just a name and a species, but Angel had a few resources to help him. He had Marty at the Dragon's Crown (who told him that he did know El'so, but not where to find her when she wasn't in, and currently, she wasn't in). (Marty had also leaned in and quietly admitted that hoped Angel would prevail, and not just because Angel was one of their best customers.) Angel also had a few loyal-ish demons that lived in his section of town whom Angel could count on for reliable local information. At least, they had developed mutually beneficial working relationships that Angel trusted would last at least as long as he remained in charge.

One of these contacts was more helpful. He said that El'so also lived in the Atalia sewerways, just on the Renmore border. A name, a species, and an address led Angel straight to her.

He approached from the Renmore side so he wouldn't have to pass close to Yurrg's den, but he still took extreme caution navigating the narrow pathways. He was seeking out someone who perceived him as an enemy, after all. For all Angel knew, the entire Trog clan was against him, and not just Yurrg. Actually, it would make a lot of sense if they were.

He crossed the underground border into the Atalia sewer neighborhood, unable to tell if the eerie quiet was because something was about to happen or if it was just his paranoid mind increasing the Eerie Factor to extreme levels. Following his informant's directions, Angel made his way slowly and silently along the dark tunnels until he came to the entrance to El'so's den.

Where Yun and Yurrg's door had been a jerry-rigged and padlocked metal grate, El'so's was a full metal door with its own locking mechanism. It looked like it was meant to redirect drainage flow, for how well it fit in its frame. This was a case of someone using what was already here instead of scavenging and repurposing pieces to build something new. Angel decided to take that as a sign of cleverness on El'so's part and not mere luck.

Angel hesitated in front of the door, taking one last sweep of his surroundings before slowly raising a fist and knocking. The sound was like drums announcing his presence in enemy territory, and Angel half expected to be jumped that instant. He had kept his weapons handy, but stowed, in a gesture of good faith. When the door unlocked a moment later with a loud clang, Angel jumped and his hand went to the hilt of his knife at his hip as the door cracked open. He hastily dropped his hand, and a single all-black eye surrounded by a mass of stringy hair appeared in the crack.

"I don't want to fight," Angel said quickly, noticing how the eye widened in recognition. "I just want to ask you some questions. That is- Are you El'so?"

The head nodded. "What questions?" El'so asked, the shadow of her mouth moving in the dim light.

Angel took it as a good sign that she was asking her own questions rather than attacking. "I want to know about your history," he replied.

"Why?"

Angel paused and then answered, "I'd rather not say in public. But I swear to abide by the rules of hospitality. If you allow me inside, we agree to peace."

El'so considered this for what seemed like a long time, with Angel standing out in the tunnel exposed. But he gave her the time, waiting until she made up her mind.

"Very well," she said finally. "Peace, while you are across my threshold."

"Agreed," Angel nodded, and when she had opened the door wide enough, he stepped inside.

The room was small and dimly lit, but Angel could see alright. It was cluttered with books and papers, decorated sparsely with weapons and a framed document on one metal wall, and furnished with a table (covered completely with aforementioned books and papers), two chairs, a loveseat, a mattress with blankets in one far corner, and a cauldron over a smoldering fire in the other. There was a vent above the cauldron letting the smoke up into a network of either pipes or ducts (Angel wasn't sure which), and near the cauldron a pipe stuck out of the wall, dripping into a bucket despite the handle valve being in the off position.

El'so herself looked typically Trog, with her long, unwashed hair draping past her shoulders, bell-shaped horns, and dark eyes. She was smaller and Yun and Yurrg, and her hair seemed a little better cared for. She also wore softer clothing than the brothers had, opting out of the protective hides he usually saw Trogs wear, but then, he had never seen a Trog in a private context: maybe they all wore softer clothing at home. Angel glanced at the wall behind the door as El'so closed it and noted a coat and some sort of trousers made of those dark, protective hides. So that was it: they armored up when going out.

El'so pulled herself up to a fuller height as she faced Angel, her chest expanding and her posture becoming more formidable than her home suggested she actually was; as if she were donning her armor anyway. "What do you want?" she asked, her tone clearly meant to put Angel on the defensive.

"Just to ask you some questions, like I said," Angel replied. "About your people's history."

Her eyes widened with surprise, but she didn't back down her imposing posture. "Why?" she demanded.

Angel hesitated. This was already as close to a civil conversation as Angel had ever had with a Trog, but he didn't know what toes he might step on that would ruin that. "I'm just trying to understand the context of my orders," he replied.

"Your orders to kill Yurrg?" El'so growled, anger flashing in her eyes.

Oh thank god, I got the name right, Angel thought to himself. "Actually," Angel told El'so, "my orders to save him."

Again, he'd taken El'so by surprise and it took her a moment to respond. "Explain."

So Angel did, in brief. He explained the contract on both Yun and Yurrg's head, without mentioning Emily (client privacy), and he explained his orders from the vision he'd gotten, again without mentioning specifics (the vision hadn't been meant for El'so, after all). Angel's new position as Seer was widely known by now, and El'so took the information in with a neutral expression.

"So you see," Angel concluded, "I'm trying to reach Yurrg's rational side: convince him to leave town quietly. He gets to live and I get to keep both my jobs."

El'so snorted derisively. "You still killed Yurrg's brother."

"Yes," Angel admitted, "I did." After a brief moment of silence, he added, "While that's a valid point, it's done. This is the situation I'm facing now. I'm trying to help Yurrg."

"You're trying to help yourself," El'so snarled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, yes," Angel admitted again. "I'm doing both. Look, if it weren't for my orders, Yurrg would be dead by now. I've taken a big risk coming here to see you and an even bigger risk by telling I'm not actually going to kill Yurrg but that I'm going to let the rest of Galway think I did. I've given you a bargaining chip against me that could ruin a hell of a lot for me, to show you my good faith. El'so, I swear I'm not your enemy."

El'so's expression softened a little. Her weight shifted, like a fortress tower starting to crumble. Still with a skeptical gaze, she asked, "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know about your early histories," Angel replied. "Maybe even early enough to be myth. I want to know what of your people's stories shape your culture."

El'so snorted derisively and shifted back a step. "Those stories are not for outsiders," she said flatly.

"Promise I won't tell anyone?" Angel pressed, hope beginning to fade.

El'so maintained her distrusting stare. Silence stretched between them. Finally, El'so asked, "What would you do with these stories?"

Angel felt like he'd answered this question already, but he said as patiently as he could, "Honestly, I don't know, specifically. I haven't been able to reason with Yurrg and I don't think I could threaten him into leaving. I thought maybe I could appeal to some deeper emotion."

El'so considered this, and her towering posture slipped a little bit more. But then she repeated, more softly this time, "Our stories are not for outsiders. They are sacred and it's not for me to… But I think you could be thinking in the right...direction."

While a part of Angel sank in disappointment, apparently this end wasn't completely dead. He nodded. "I understand. Thank you."

She stared at him a little uncomfortably, but he thought he might have seen her give the tiniest of nods. After another moment of silence, it was clear that his visit was over, so he turned to go. El'so didn't move from her spot, so without another word between them, Angel let himself out.

Angel decided to go to Decade to think. Normally, he'd go to the Dragon's Crown, where it was generally quieter and more his aesthetic, but given that he was being hunted, he thought he should be a little less predictable in his haunts. Besides, the bar portion of the establishment was a little more exclusively for vampires and other blood-drinkers, and he had less of a chance of running into any other Trogs who might tip Yurrg off on his whereabouts.

Angel chose the darkest corner he could find, of which there were many. Despite the questionable morality of a human blood bar, Angel did love Decade for how well it catered to its market: dim lighting, well-muffled acoustics, mystery, secrecy, and isolation in a space of public fellowship. It was ideal for the loneliness of vampirism and the indulgence of nature.

In the spirit of this indulgence, Angel ordered blood from the bar tap. It would help him think more clearly than alcohol would, as a stimulant rather than a depressant, and the blood was (supposedly) sourced from willing donors. Angel was pretty sure the blood on tap was from the hospital, and the humans walking around were well-paid and cared for. Emily insisted it was better business practice to do it this way. It kept costs down to maintain low turnover rates.

Angel could see most of the rest of the bar from his chosen alcove and after the first few warm sips of his drink, started to relax for the first time in days. His thoughts started to flow a little easier, like warmed honey. Where before his mental processes had been stilted, like he could only think one sentence at a time, now they started to come more freely one after the other.

Yurrg had a destiny, and whatever it was wasn't for Angel to see. He'd been given the mission to pass on to William and Calder because they were capable of managing it on their own. Two kids, enlightening a Trog demon to the path of righteousness.

Angel took another long sip of his blood.

Angel had screwed that up by murdering Yun, so now he had to be involved in fixing it. He had to ask for forgiveness. He had to show Yurrg that remorse is better than revenge.

It would have to be on neutral ground, if not on Angel's home turf. It would have to be private; well-protected. Angel was definitely still the underdog; he was going to have to plan this carefully.

"Halt!" Phil the doorgoblin's voice shouted near the entrance to the bar, drawing everyone's attention. "I said you can't bring that in here!"

Angel leaned forward in his alcove to see the front, straining to get a good view around the other vampires and humans emerging from their own alcoves to see what was happening.

Yurrg's huge form appeared in the doorway, holding a very large gun.

"Where's Angel?" he shouted into the room.

The next few moments were a crucial test to Angel's status as a respected and feared vampire. Would he get called out or protected?

"He's there!" a vampire Angel knew as Desmond said, pointing directly at Angel's alcove.

"Snitch!" a different vampire named Justin (now going by Snake, Angel had to remind himself) yelled from the other side of the room.

Okay, so just about what Angel had expected. He was always going to have haters.

The gun charged up, whirring to such a high pitch all the vampires in the place cringed. Angel ducked, slipping out of the alcove quickly, and then there was a loud electric sound. Yurrg yelled as if in pain and there was a crash, and Angel peered around the neighboring alcove.

Phil had tasered Yurrg into dropping his gun. "I said," Phil growled, "you can't bring that in here. You're gone, Trog."

Phil had to lift himself onto his toes to reach Yurrg's elbow to try and tug him away, but Yurrg shook him off like a bothersome fly.

"Angel!" Yurrg shouted again. "Come outside and fight like a demon! Or are you too much of a man to face me?"

A low-blow insult to be throwing around in a den of half-breeds bent on not recognizing their own humanity. Slowly, Angel stood up from his hiding place, and all eyes turned to him.

Well, shit.

"I'll come outside," Angel said. It was neutral-ish ground. Slightly less public. Absolutely not carefully planned out, but sometimes winging it worked, too.

Yurrg grunted and bent to pick up his gun.

"Equal weapons," Angel said quickly, and Yurrg paused, thinking. It was honorable to concede to equal weapons, but Trogs were not bound by that particular code of honor. Honor would imply the valuation of a moral code; of a soul.

Yurrg picked up his gun and straightened again. He looked at Angel. "Equal weapons," he agreed. "The tiny goblin will guard this until the fight is over." He stretched out his arm and practically dropped the giant gun onto little Phil's head.

"I will not!" Phil protested, but Yurrg was already lumbering out. Reluctantly, Angel followed him.

Snake followed Angel. Desmond followed Snake. The entire rest of Decade's bar patrons followed Desmond.

Angel tried furiously to think of what to do. He couldn't lose the fight, obviously. He also couldn't win it. He also couldn't resolve it peacefully with everyone watching. What if he escaped? Delayed again until he could plan a better meeting place?

Yurrg led them to a dead-end alley. Decade was located in Uptown - the city's experimental green initiative - so the ground here was made of the same bioluminescent material as the sidewalks out front and the walls of the buildings were covered in greenery. Not exactly the typical mood setting for a back alley demon fight, but the eager anticipation of the crowd of vampires following them set plenty of mood on their own. Glancing around for an escape route, Angel noted that the roofs were too high for Angel to jump up to, and the fire escape was quickly becoming filled with spectators. He might be able to climb the greenery but he wasn't sure if it would support his weight.

Also, running away wouldn't exactly help his failing reputation as a formidable figure in the Underworld.

"Weapons check," Yurrg demanded, turning to face Angel.

"Look, Yurrg," Angel said, "do we have to do this now? Let's set up a proper challenge. Appoint a time, get a neutral party to check weapons-"

"Now!" Yurrg insisted, pulling various knives out of his belt. "I'm tired of this, Angel! I want this over with."

God, Angel did, too. So that was something they had in common. "You were given a solution," Angel told him. "Take it."

"Weakling vampires don't scare me," Yurrg said, throwing the last of his blades in the pile. "You turn to dust so easily. Weapons!"

Reluctantly, Angel started taking off his own weapons and adding them to what was going to be the free-for-all pile. "It wasn't meant to scare you," Angel told him, hyper aware of all the vampire eyes on him from behind. "But make no mistake I can hold my own," he added, partly for the benefit of his audience. "I'm over 450 years old. You're not the first one to underestimate me, and you won't be the last."

Yurrg just watched Angel unload his weapons in angry silence, and it was hard to tell how the threat had landed.

When Angel had tossed the last of his knives on the pile, who looked like a dark, angry blotch against the blue bioluminescent ground, he nodded. Yurrg grunted.

"To the death," Yurrg said, pulling himself into the same imposing posture El'so had taken. It was a little easier to see Yurrg in a similar position: caught in the vulnerability of his grief, he had to put on some sort of armor to protect it. To mask the world from knowing that inside, he lived like any other creature with a soul.

That was Angel's key, wasn't it? Shit.

If Angel was going to use this key, he was going to have to bare himself as a creature with a soul, too. He was going to have to tear down his own story that he could be respectably violent and morally ambiguous despite his conscience. If he was going to touch Yurrg's vulnerability, Angel was going to have to show that he shared the same vulnerability. And not only shared it: embraced it. Let it shape his decisions. Considered it a strength.

Angel had been openly challenged to a fight to the death against one he was bound to protect. Taking a deep breath, Angel jumped into a canyon he couldn't see the bottom of. "No."

Yurrg looked surprised, and the vampire crowd behind them murmured amongst each other.

"No?" Yurrg said.

"That's right," Angel replied, trying to keep his voice even. "No. I will not fight you to the death like some monster with a grudge. I'll resolve this civilly, like the two souled beings that we are."

The murmurs grew louder, many of them angrily. He heard whispers alluding to his arrogance, his weakness, his utter insanity. He heard someone say, "See? It's like I said: he can't be called a vampire when he's tethered with a soul. He's not one of us."

Yurrg's huge, clawed hands clenched at his sides. "Trogs do not recognize our souls. We are separate. Free. I will rip your head off and feel nothing but delight."

"Except you won't," Angel told him. He took a step to the right, wanting to put his back to a building rather than a crowd of volatile vampires. "You can't. You can ignore the soul, but you can never be free of it."

Yurrg matched Angel's movements, one hand twitching toward the pile of weapons like he expected Angel to leap for them when Yurrg had his guard down.

"You can rip my head off and feel delight," Angel went on, "but you'll still feel angry at me. Sad. You'll still hurt and want to hurt others and you'll think that's the freedom from your soul, but it's not. It's the chains lashing your soul to a body that hurts. It's your soul trying to escape the pain you think is too much to feel. Trogs aren't strong for ignoring their souls. They're weak."

Yurrg roared and lunged forward, grabbing a sword and a knife and swinging them at Angel. The crowd roared with him and Angel ducked; leaves fell onto the back of his neck from the sword hitting the building and slashing through the thick greenery. Angel slipped out from under Yurrg's arms and whirled to face him from the back of the alley.

"Let me guess, Yurrg," Angel said, shifting his weight from foot to foot in preparation to evade the next attack. He was going on a hunch, here. "You're not like other Trogs, are you? Never have been, I'll bet. You never were able to care as little as the rest of your clan. You always seemed to feel things worse than your friends. You felt weak for how hard it was to hide your emotions."

Yurrg roared again and lunged, which was confirmation enough for Angel that he was on the right track. He'd found where to dig under his armor, but how deep did he have to go?

Angel dodged the attack again, rolling out of the way at the last second. He came up near the weapons pile, but he fought the temptation to grab something. He was trying to make a high-road point, here.

"It's never weak to feel pain, Yurrg," Angel said, shifting his weight again. "And I don't just mean that in that way that my masochist friends here are thinking." He nodded toward the crowd of vampires, several of whom had been nodding in agreement. Yurrg glanced at the crowd, looking suddenly uncertain how much he wanted to be having this discussion in public.

Angel agreed completely, but he didn't want to disrupt his momentum. Now that he was under Yurrg's armor, he didn't want to remove the blade. "Look into your histories," Angel said. "Your sacred histories. Your people keep lots of secrets from us outsiders, and I'm guessing your scholars keep a lot from you."

"Why would I do that?" Yurrg growled. "What do you expect I'd find?"

"Hope," Angel replied. "Purpose. Two things only those with souls can understand."

"My people reject those things," Yurrg told him.

Angel's mouth twitched in a little smile. "So do mine."

The crowd rippled, and at first Angel thought it was from what he'd said, but a moment later the crowd parted and Emily appeared. She gave Angel a piercing stare and folded her arms across her chest, bracelets jangling together.

"Well, Angel? Are you going to do it?"

Angel could feel the piers slipping from his grasp. He wasn't going to be able to regulate the goods that came through. Trafficking would skyrocket. He'd lose a major source of income, and Connor's keep was not cheap. He could retain all that if he just picked up a damn weapon and kill the irksome Trog in front of him.

Angel blinked and turned to Yurrg. "No," he said. "I'm not. I got an order that supersedes yours, Emily. The order says that Yurrg lives."

Emily shrugged, unconcerned. "Fine," she said. "I'll take the piers and have someone else kill Yurrg instead."

"My Champions and I will protect him," Angel told her. "So long as he's within city limits," he added quickly. He looked at Yurrg and said, "I've been trying to tell you you should leave town quietly…"

Emily's eyes flashed in anger at him, but before she could say anything else, Angel walked up to Yurrg and stopped just outside of arm's reach. "I killed your brother," he said loud enough for everyone to hear. "Your mask worked. I thought your people were scum, too cowardly to use the most powerful thing you possess: your ability to choose between right and wrong. But it turns out I was wrong. Or at least, I have hope that I am. I'm truly sorry for killing your brother. Someday, I hope you can forgive me for it, and free us both."

They alley was utterly silent, except for Yurrg's uncertain breathing. He stared at Angel, trembling with rage and - probably - grief. Angel waited like waiting for the gavel. Yurrg stared at Angel, and then looked out at the crowd of vampires, many of which still had blood dripping off their fangs. Someone whispered, "Fight!" Another whispered, "Kill!" A third went up to Emily and asked how much the bounty was for all four of them: Yurrg, Angel, and the Two Champions.

Emily just stared stonily at Angel.

Finally Yurrg stirred in decision. Angel tensed. "I have no desire to live in a place where I'm hunted," he said. "I could kill each of you unarmed, but that sounds boring and pointless. I will relocate and spare us all the tedium."

Angel tried not to let his relief show. The crowd of vampires boo-ed in disappointment and Angel turned to look at Emily, wondering if he and Yurrg were going to have to fight their way out.

Emily shifted her arms against her chest, glancing between Angel and Yurrg with disgust and borderline fury.

Finally, she said, "That's acceptable. I still get what I wanted." She turned back to the crowd and said, "My apologies for the disruption to your evening, valued patrons. A round on the house, to show good will." Looking pointedly back at Angel, she added, "We're not all uncivilized monsters, here."

Then she turned and started walking back to Decade. The crowd parted and followed her, seeming mollified by the free drinks, if they couldn't witness a fight to the death. Soon, Angel and Yurrg were left alone in the silence. Angel's mind was buzzing.

He'd lost the piers. How soon would other bits of his territory follow? Would he, William, and Calder be able to protect the humans from the fallout? Would he be able to retain any respect whatsoever in the underworld? Would he still have an open invitation to kitten poker?

Angel swayed a little, stumbling away from Yurrg. There was a scraping of metal and Angel wheeled around, expecting Yurrg to be arcing one of the weapons right at his neck.

But he was just putting away his own blades, not looking at Angel at all. Angel supposed he could be cleaning up, too. Without speaking, they picked up their respective weapons, stowing them in sheathes and boots and whatever hiding places they'd come in. When everything was put away, Yurrg finally looked at Angel.

"You gave up the piers," Yurrg said gruffly.

"Yeah," Angel agreed, his voice cracking a little. His knees felt kind of weak.

"Why?"

Angel swallowed. "Because there was a bigger purpose."

"What purpose?"

Angel laughed, and it sounded a little hysterical. "I have no idea," he admitted. "But it sure as hell better be good. If you'll excuse me...I've got some payments to collect before Emily gets to them."

Angel turned and stumbled out of the alley, feeling delirious, leaving Yurrg behind him. He never saw Yurrg again.

Epilogue

"Angel this is a disaster!" William said, looking absolutely devastated when Angel told him and Calder about what happened. They were at the Dragon's Crown, where Angel had practically set up camp at his favorite booth, reinforcing that it was his, and that even though the piers were now Emily's, that didn't mean anything else was up for grabs. Least of all his favorite booth. So far, it seemed to be working. He hadn't even been challenged for it.

"I know," Angel said heavily. "Don't you think I know that?"

"What are we going to do?" Calder asked. "I mean, take the piers back, obviously, but how?"

Angel shrugged hopelessly. "I failed my end of the deal. She won it fair and square. I can't just invade and take it back - not immediately, anyway."

"Why not?"

"There are codes to follow, Cal," Angel replied. "I have to bide my time, look for a weakness, exploit it, and strike when it's time."

William leaned forward, pushing his beer out of the way. "But Angel," he said, "you said they're trafficking out of those piers."

"I know!" Angel said again. "It's bad, Will, I'm not saying it isn't."

Looking dumbfounded at Angel, William said, "But you just said we're going to bide our time. That could take ages, and in the meantime we could be stopping a human trafficking ring! We have to do something!"

"Whoa, whoa," Angel said, holding up his hand, "I never said anything about human trafficking."

Both boys blinked at Angel. "You didn't? Yes you did," Calder said. He looked at William. "Didn't he?"

"I thought…" William said uncertainly. "Well, okay, so what are they trafficking?"

Angel leaned back in his seat uncomfortably. The boys were human; they would never understand how dire this really was. "They're just trafficking; what more do you need to know?"

"Angel," William said sternly, putting on his Judith, You'd better tell me now face.

Angel sighed, feeling that that face was incredibly unfair of William to pull. "Kittens," he admitted.

William and Calder blinked at him.

"Kittens?" William repeated.

"Yes," Angel said firmly, "and that's a bad thing. Just last week Fa'pir showed up to kitten poker with three Russian blues! What'll it be next week? Siamese?" At least Angel was still invited next week. Fa'pir had stopped by earlier to remind Angel that he owed him a tortoise shell.

William and Calder looked at each other and seemed to reach a nonverbal decision with a short nod.

"You're on your own, Angel," Calder said, raising his glass of beer to his lips and finishing it.

"What? No, c'mon guys," Angel protested. "This is a serious thing."

"Sure it is, Angel," William said faux-consolingly. "But we have other serious things to worry about. I think we can let this one slide. You ready, Cal? I still need to finish studying my history notes."

"Yup," Calder said, standing up. "That was a nice study break, thanks, Angel."

"No, guys," Angel protested as William slid out of the booth, too. "Okay fine, after your exams. I'll watch for the weaknesses to show and let you know."

"Night, Angel," William said as Calder waved goodbye.

Angel slumped back against his seat miserably. He'd forgotten how much taking the high road sucked sometimes.

The End

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! This series continues with a still-untitled story that is being actively written (so title coming soon?), and even more (fully-written, fully-titled) stories after. Check out my profile for more information on those. Thanks again!