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Shadows Still Remain	By : addielogan Category: Angel the Series > Het - Male/Female > Angel(us)/Cordelia > Angel(us)/Cordelia Views: 3578 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Angel: The Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Over the next week, Cordelia fell into a
comfortable enough routine living with Anne. She found herself remembering
little things�words, phrases�but nothing tangible enough to link her back to
her own life.
She'd managed to convince Anne with the
limited communication skills she had to move back into her own bedroom and give
Cordelia the cot in the living room. Cordelia did feel a little bad about
taking over her host's room for an extended period of time, but the truth of
the matter was, she knew it would be easier to keep her nightly trips out quiet
if she didn't have to sneak past Anne to leave.
During the day, Cordelia helped Anne out in
the shelter. She didn't have to talk for that, and she felt by doing what she
could there she was repaying Anne for her kindness.
Then at night, Cordelia went out, finding
things to fight if her visions didn't come to guide her. She found that it was
easiest for her to hunt down vampires, her body seeming to tingle when they
were near, pulling her towards her prey.
If Anne was noticing the small cuts and
bruises Cordelia was coming home with, she wasn't commenting. Cordelia made
sure to tend to them before Anne woke up so she wouldn't worry like she had the
first morning.
All in all, Cordelia knew she was settling
into her new life. The problem remained, however, that she couldn't remember
anything from her past, and that wasn't something she could ignore. It went
beyond her frustration with not being able to communicate with other people the
way she wanted. She needed to know exactly who
she really was.
Amnesia aside, she wasn't completely
clueless, and she knew what she did at night wasn't normal. The more contact
with other people she had the more she began to realize other things weren't normal,
too�like how strong she seemed to be. She'd had to start watching what she lifted
around other people to keep them from looking at her strangely.
Cordelia needed answers, and as days passed
and she seemed no closer to getting them, her frustration mounted. The only
clue she had to her lost past was a name of someone she didn't know where to
begin to look for. So she accepted the routine, got through each day as best she
could, and waited for the nights to come when she'd be able find a little peace
in the darkness.
And then come home to dream of dark eyes set
in a face she wanted desperately to remember.

***
*** ***
With her attempts to contact Charles Gunn
continuing to fail, Anne knew she'd have to go about another way in locating
Cordelia's friends. She'd found a listing in an old phone book for Angel
Investigations, but when she'd called, she'd gotten a message that the number
had been disconnected. Furthermore, Wolfram and Hart was still a pile of
rubble, which gave her no chance of finding a lead there either.
Anne knew Cordelia was trying her best to
make the most of her current situation, but she also knew there wasn't any way
the other woman could be truly happy. She'd lost everything�her memories, her
friends, her life. Anne wanted to
help her, wanted to give Cordelia back the life she'd lost. After all, Cordelia
had saved her life once�it was only fair she repaid the favor. Anne could still
remember the cold hands of the zombie as he grabbed her, pulling her through
the window�and how Cordelia hadn't hesitated in running to her aid, facing the
zombie herself to make sure it didn't get Anne. It had been quick, and somehow
Anne figured Cordelia had never given a second thought to it, but it had made
all the difference to Anne.
So she made a decision. It wasn't something
she'd ever wanted to do again, not something she'd wanted to think about, but
for Cordelia, she'd face her own personal demons. She just hoped she could
still remember how to fit in.
Instead of going back up to her apartment
Friday night, Anne made her way to a club not too far away from the shelter
known as the Lancet. A small dagger dripping with blood crossed over a rose
decorated the sign, and just looking at that alone made her shiver. She shifted
the material of her long, black dress, trying to find some level of comfort in
the garment that had stopped being commonplace for her years ago, and stepped
up to the door.
A man with artificially pale skin, badly dyed black hair, a cape, and an oversized red
medallion stopped Anne when she approached the door. "This is a private
club."
"I know," Anne replied, "But
I'm interested in becoming a member. I have a desire to walk with those who
understand the Lonely Ones." She fought back a wince, her act reminding
her too much of the na�ve girl she used to be.
The man eyed her skeptically. "Yeah? And why is that, exactly? I can't just let
anyone through this door, you know."
"I understand. So many people would try
to hurt us and the Ones we revere. They think Those
Who Walk at Night are to be feared, to be hunted. But I have touched one
myself, and I know what they really are."
The man's eyes widened at her declaration.
"You've actually met a vampire? Really? That's so freaking cool!" He coughed and tried
to revert back to his tough stance. "I mean, uh, how can I know that's
true?"
Anne peeled back her choker and tilted her
neck, revealing the scar she'd worn since that faithful night in Sunnydale that
had changed her life forever. "I still bear his mark."
At that, the man gaped, his fingers reaching
out to trace the scar and make Anne shudder in barely-contained revulsion.
"Wow� I haven't ever seen anyone who's been so blessed before." He
pulled back. "You can come in. I'll take you to Louis. He runs this place.
Oh, I'm Byron, by the way."
"Chanterelle."
"Pretty name," Byron told her as
he led her into the club. Anne followed closely behind him, glancing around her
at the people who populated the Lancet. Is that
what she'd looked like when she'd been one of them? She winced. It was even
worse than naming herself after a mushroom�
"Louis, we have someone who wants to
join us," Byron announced as he stopped at a table with a man dressed
similarly to Byron himself�only somewhat more convincingly�and two women who
Anne would guess spent more money on the latest fashions at Hot Topic than food.
Louis looked up, his expression one of
practiced disaffectedness, and waived his heavily-ringed hand over his drink.
"Does she now? And who is this?"
"Chanterelle," Byron answered for
her. "She's been bitten. I saw the mark."
Louis's eyes widened and he leaned forward
closer to Chanterelle. "Really? Can I see
it?"
Trying to hide her reluctance as she did so,
Anne peeled her choker back again, showing her mark now to Louis. The two women
also leaned forward, looks of jealousy on their faces as they saw the scar that
Anne could think of as nothing but disfiguring. It was a horrible reminder of
her past mistakes�and one that she spent a good deal of time trying to cover,
not showing around like a badge of honor.
Still, she was here for a reason, and she may
as well get the ball rolling so she wasn't suffering through all of this for
nothing. "I'll never forget the night I got it," she said as she
clasped her choker back in place. "It was amazing. He did things to me I know
no human man would ever be capable of. What I wouldn't give to see him
again." She sighed, hoping it sounded dreamy when she still felt bile
rising in her throat. "His name was Angel."
"Angel's real?" Byron asked. "I've heard stories about him,
but�"
"He's real," Anne confirmed.
"And he's so sexy with his pensive eyes and long, dark coat." She
sighed again, then tried to swallow the bile back
down.
"Have a drink with me," Louis
offered, pushing one of the women away and ignoring her protest. "Tell me
more about your interest in becoming a member of this fine establishment."
Anne smiled and slid into the seat beside
Louis.

***
*** ***
It was near morning before Anne got back
home, and she was glad she didn't have any early work to do in the shelter. She
was relieved to see Cordelia asleep when she got in, afraid that her absence
would've disturbed her guest enough to keep her up�or worse yet, drive her to
go out and look for her.
As mush as she wanted to simply fall into
bed, Anne had to take a hot shower first, desperate to wash the night from her
body. She hoped her plan actually did her some good so it would've have been
all for nothing.
The best way Anne knew to get any sort of
message out to Angel was through gossip and word of mouth, and since she wasn't
about to start hanging out with actual
vampires, she had decided to go as close as she could get. All she could do now
was keep her fingers crossed it would get out enough that a vampire groupie was
claiming to have spent a night with Angel and wanted to see him again. She had
a feeling that the story would be an obvious falsehood to Angel himself, and
she hoped it would be enough to pique his interest�or at least get him paranoid
enough to seek her out and find out what was behind the story.
Anne knew it was a slim chance�but she'd take
any chance she could get right now.
She stopped by the living room on her way
back to the bedroom, watching Cordelia for a moment as she slept. "I'll
help you find your way home again," she promised in a whisper before she
walked away.

***
*** ***
After a week and a half of spending as much
time at the Lancet as she could, Anne was starting to think this end was deader
than she'd even thought. She was tired of pretending to want to fit in with
these people, tired of having them all fawn over her and her bite mark that she
just wanted to go back to covering up with make-up as best she could.
She'd almost given up, conceded that she'd
been foolish to think such a plan would work in the first place. She was ready
to call it a bust, leave the club, and never return.
And then, she saw him.
He was hidden in the shadows, blending in
with the darkness just enough to make Anne shudder. But she saw him, a glimpse
of his features, a swirl of his coat, and her heart leapt with joy and relief.
It had worked. Somehow, she'd managed
to actually pull of her half-baked, insane plan. All she could think was
someone up there must've been looking out for her.
She moved slowly through the crowd,
resisting any urges to run as fast as she could to him and then jump up and
down with the joy of success. That would only draw the sort of attention she
didn't particularly want.
Angel looked down at her when she reached
him, one dark eyebrow arched. "Are you the one I supposedly�" He
stopped, and Anne knew the moment he recognized her. "Wait� Anne? What the�"
"I needed your attention," Anne
said. "Come on, let's get out of here, and I'll explain."
Angel nodded, his
curiosity peeked even more now when he'd first heard the rumors of his supposed
admirer. He'd expected to find either a crazed groupie or a trap, not a former
acquaintance he'd thought more than happy to never see him again.
Given their history and Anne's anger with
him over him using her to get back at Wolfram and Hart, maybe it was a trap�
Still, he jerked his head towards the back
entrance. "Through here. It's how I came in, and
we'll draw less attention that way."
Anne followed him without protest, though
when they walked out into the back alley, Angel saw her wrap her arms around
herself tightly, and could sense the fear rolling off of her, even as she tried
to contain it. "Why are you afraid?" he asked her tersely.
"Because I'm alone in an alley with a
vampire," Anne snapped.
"Funny attitude for someone who runs
with that crowd in there," Angel said, gesturing to the club.
"They aren't my crowd," Anne
replied. "Not anymore�not for a long time. I was
only there because I was desperate to get a message out to you, and I couldn't
find any other way. I know you know Charles Gunn, and I tried calling him,
but�"
"Gunn's dead."
Anne froze, her
face paling as her hand went to her mouth. "No� When? How?"
"A couple of weeks ago, in a
battle," Angel replied. He winced as he spoke, the pain of the night he'd
lost everything he'd had left still weighing heavily on him.
"At least he went down fighting,"
Anne said, her eyes downcast. "He always said he
wanted to make some noise when he went out."
"He did that," Angel told her
somberly. After a moment of silence, he asked, "Is that why you were
seeking me out? To get a message to Gunn?"
"No," Anne answered, shaking her
head. "It's Cordelia."
If thinking about Gunn now had been
difficult, hearing Cordelia's name all but tore out his unbeating heart.
"Anne, Cordelia's dead, too."
Anne looked up at Angel sharply. "No
she isn't. She's fine. Well, okay, she's a little
off, but she isn't dead. That's why I was looking for you. See, she's�"
"Where is she?" Angel asked
quickly, the need to see for himself if what Anne was
claiming was true. Cordelia was back? It was too much to even hope for, and yet
as soon as Anne had spoken those words, the hope had jumped in him.
"She's back at my place�above the
shelter," Anne said. "I had part of the upstairs converted into a
small apartment so I could always be there if the kids needed me."
"Let's go. Now."
"My car's right over here."
"Drive quickly."
Neither Anne nor Angel spoke again until
they were standing outside of Anne's door. "You're going to have to invite
me in," Angel told her. "If you live here, I can't get in without an
invitation."
Anne paused with her keys in her hands. Gunn
had explained to her once about Angel's curse, but in her eyes, he was still a
vampire�and she'd learned her lesson about trusting vampires. But in this case,
she supposed she could make an exception, for Cordelia's sake at least.
"You're invited in," Anne said.
"Is that enough, or am I supposed to say something special?"
"That's enough," Angel replied.
"Just open the door." He knew he was being overly gruff, but he
didn't care. As soon as they'd walked into the shelter, he'd caught Cordelia's
scent, and the hope inside of him had grown. Now, her scent was stronger�coming
from just beyond the door�and Angel could hear the steady beat of her heart as
well.
Cordelia was here. Cordelia was alive.
The door swung open, and Angel's eyes locked
with a pair of hazel ones he knew he could never forget.

***
*** ***
If you're reading this, please review. It
gets hits, but no one says anything, and it doesn't really make me want to
continue. Honestly, the response to the last chapter was so lackluster, I
forgot I was even working on this one. So if you want it to continue, say
something�anything.
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Shadows Still Remain