Download Angel Chronicles 03 PDF

TitleAngel Chronicles 03
TagsBuffy The Vampire Slayer
LanguageEnglish
File Size573.3 KB
Total Pages117
Table of Contents
                            Acknowledgments
The Chronicles: Prologue
The First Chronicle: Surprise
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
The Second Chronicle: Innocence
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
The Third Chronicle: Passion
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
The Chronicles: Epilogue
About the Author
                        
Document Text Contents
Page 2

“HURTS, DOESN’T IT?” SPIKE TAUNTED.

The Judge’s hand was splayed over Angel’s chest. Dru looked on, fascinated,
thrilled, getting on her hands and knees like a lioness.

“Well, you know, it kind of itches a little,” Angel tossed off, wincing. But
nothing else happened. Dru kept waiting for the immolation.

Her Spike was angry. “Don’t just stand there. Burn him!”

Angel made a face. He was obviously enjoying himself. “Gee, maybe he’s
broken.”

“What the hell is going on?” Spike demanded.

Dru got it. She

“There is no humanity in him.” The Judge turned away, losing interest.

“Angel,” Dru breathed, awash in delirious joy.

Angel grinned at her. Looked deep into her eyes with a sinister, wonderful
gleam. They were connecting right here, and right now, and she could barely
contain herself.

“Yeah, baby,” he said, “I’m back.”

Page 58

there may be a duel.”
He leaned his head toward hers. She saw his lovely scars and wanted to reach

out and touch them, name them, too.
“Recovered then, have we? Did you see any further? Do you know what

happens to Angel?”
“Well, he moves to New York and tries to fulfill that Broadway dream,”

Angel boomed as he sauntered into the room. Dru raised her head, mesmerized,
delighted. “It’s tough sledding, but one day he’s working in the chorus when the
big star twists his ankle.”

Dru thought.


No one could ever compare to Angelus for barbarity. It was his passion.
. . .

Spike said in his wonderful cold, deadly voice, “You don’t give up, do you?”
Angel became very grave. “As long as there is injustice in this world, as scum

like you is walking—or well, rolling,” he laughed, “the streets, I’ll be around.
Look over your shoulder. I’ll be there.”
“Yeah, uh, Angel. Look over shoulder.”
The Judge was the one doing the touching. He splayed his hand over Angel’s

chest. Dru looked on, fascinated, thrilled, getting on her hands and knees like a
lioness.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Spike taunted.
“Well, you know, it kind of itches a little,” Angel tossed off, wincing. But

nothing else happened. Dru kept waiting for the immolation, recalling nights of
cheering on fireworks displays with just the same amount of anticipation.
Her Spike was angry. “Don’t just stand there. Burn him!”
Angel made a face. He was obviously enjoying himself. “Gee, maybe he’s

broken.”
“What the hell is going on?” Spike demanded.
Dru got it. She
“This one cannot be burned. He is clean,” the Judge said, vaguely

disappointed.
“Clean? You mean he’s—” Spike said, slowly coming along to the notion.

Page 116

THE CHRONICLES: EPILOGUE

Hands in the pockets of his black duster, Angelus studied the darkened window
of the Slayer’s bedroom on the second floor of the house on Revello Drive. The
moon glowed on his pale face and made hollows in his cheeks and around his
eyes.
“Buffy,” he whispered. “I will taunt and torment you. I will spend my nights

hounding you. I will make your life a living hell, and you’ll wish I had killed
you to put you out of your misery.”
In the dark night, he smiled, wondering if she was actually able to sleep any

more. If her fear and anger kept her up nights. Her eyes open, staring into the
dark, her heart thudding thickly. Tears building, spilling. Because of him.
His mind swam with vivid, detailed images of the Chosen One. Buffy, smiling

at him. Buffy, weeping.
Buffy.

he thought, clenching his fists, savoring the times that were to
come. Drawing out her torment. Hurting her beyond bearing, over and over
again. Making sure she never stopped thinking about what he could do, what he
would do, to everyone she loved.

That was far more sublime than simply snuffing out her existence. Destruction
versus a quick, clean death, such as he had given Jenny Calendar.
Spike didn’t understand. Spike couldn’t understand. What did a weakling like

Roller Boy know about hatred?

Angelus stared at the window. He stood there for hours, until the sun
threatened him.
Even then, he almost stayed, seething, unable to stop staring at the window of

her bedroom.

That’s what he told himself, as he whirled on his heel and vanished into the
darkness.

Page 117

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Four-time Bram Stoker Award winner Nancy Holder has sold forty novels and
over two hundred short stories, articles, and essays. Her work has appeared on
the and Amazon.com bestseller lists. Alone and
with her frequent collaborator, Christopher Golden, she has written a dozen

projects, including and
the first hardcover novel, due out for Halloween 1999. She has also written
several short stories with Golden, and appears in two of the anthologies he
edited, including the award-winning
Holder’s work has been translated into two dozen languages, and she has also

written comic books, game fiction, and television commercials. She is currently
completing the last volume of a science fiction trilogy called for
Avon Books.
A graduate of the University of California at San Diego, she lives in San

Diego with her husband, Wayne, and their daughter, Belle.

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