Force of Instinct

SUMMARY: A Vamp!Cordy story.
POSTED: 17 Jul 2005
CONTENT/PAIRING: C/A eventually, with B/A & C/X along the way.
WARNINGS: Explicit Sexual Content
1) I’m deleting the previous version because this plot is more to my liking. I know this won’t be to everyone’s liking, but I’ve always wanted to write a Vamp Cordy fic. Huggles n Snoggles, S xxx
2) This is my first solo foray into the Dark Side, so be gentle!
STATUS: Incomplete

Part 1

Cordelia kept her frown to herself as she watched Xander, her boyfriend, casually throw his arm around Willow, who blushed cherry red and averted her green gaze from a perturbed hazel one. How nice of him to comfort her in her time of need. Here she was, out of the goodness of her heart, playing bait for the slayer and her little fanged pet, and it was still someone but her coming first in his existence.

“I’m saving up,” Xander proudly declared with a silly grin that encouraged one girl to ask why, and the other to roll unimpressed eyes.

“Lemme guess, you’ve bitten the bullet and decided to buy a life?” Cordelia stopped walking and turned to face them, arms crossed and a breath expelled between closed lips. The way Willow kept sniffing around her boyfriend was really starting to grate on her nerves. Still, the cheerleader thought sympathetically, it’d be hard for Willow to get a guy while letting her mother dress her. Speaking of, what was that skirt she was wearing?

Imperceptive to the girl in question, Cordelia shuddered and thanked the world for her mother being her mother. Sure, she wasn’t the most affectionate parent going, but at least she didn’t dress her daughter in a 1960’s carpet with matching curtains for a shirt.

Xander’s face turned blank at the snappish retort, “I’ve decided to buy you a personality transplant.” He looked at Willow, unsurprised to see her impish face going back and forth as though she were watching a tennis match. “Can you get those ya think?”

Unwilling to get into the middle of an obviously brewing argument, the red head merely shrugged her petite shoulders and offered Cordelia a slight smile which wasn’t returned. There was only one reason Willow could come up with for the unreturned sentiment, and it rhymed with “Rich.”

As though Cordelia heard the other girl’s resentful and spiteful thoughts, she narrowed her eyes and focused on the red head, all the while trying to remember it wasn’t Willow’s fault she had a crush on Xander. There was a part of her that childishly wanted tell Willow how Xander didn’t like her, how Xander wasn’t hers and how she should concentrate on her own boyfriend, but that’d only make her just as bad.

“I do have a personality,” the brunette’s hair was arrogantly flipped and lips flickered into a smirk. “I just don’t waste it on the likes of you. Besides, shouldn’t you keep your savings for something worthwhile? Like therapy?”

“A few months of dating you and I’ll need more than therapy”

Months? Willow gulped and couldn’t stop imagining months of their idea of dating. Not that she jealous of course, because she had Oz.

“Are you trying to say I make you crazy?” Cordelia’s voice snapped the red head back into reality, and Xander blankly stared at her.

“Make me crazy? Lemme break this to you gently…” He took on a calming tone, disengaged his arm from it’s resting place to hold both hands up in mocking gesture. “You’ve already driven me crazy”

Much to the surprise of both Xander and Willow, the Cordelia’s face broke out into a beaming smile; straight teeth gleamed white as hazel eyes became bright. “Really?” The hope filling her voice made the other two wonder if she actually understood the insult. “I really make you crazy?”

Unsure of what was going on, the boy nodded and wondered what it was he’d done right for a change, just for future reference.

“That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me! I could kiss you”

Willow found herself unceremoniously shoved aside, and her place taken by the cheerleader, who proceeded to wrap both arms around a highly confused Xander Harris and hugged him tightly. Her glanced at his best friend over Cordelia’s shoulder and could only offer a helpless shrug by way of explanation for the sudden outburst.

She gave a joyful little squeal in his ear before letting him go, and contenting herself with a chaste smooch, simply held his hand and smiled widely at the other girl. “I drive him crazy!” To Cordelia, that was almost as good at being told she rocked his world.


While all that was going on at the other side of the crypt, Buffy was busy tugging on the sleeve of Angel’s leather jacket. “Xander and Will are with her, she’ll be fine.” Blue eyes shone and lured him closer, bubblegum pink lips sensuously curled upwards in an open invitation.

Angel hesitated, brown eyes glanced around the cemetery, his posture and brain expecting the demon to show and ruin the moment, as it always did when they were alone. Though all was quiet, barring the familiar voices of the others, he still hesitated. It wouldn’t be right to risk Cordelia’s safety just so Buffy and he could indulge in intimacies.

The slayer forced the frown to stay off her face as she observed his reluctance. They hardly had any time together as she was so busy lately, what with mid-terms coming up and Giles intensifying her training, not forgetting all the mother-daughter bonding that needed to be done. Patrol was her time to spend with Angel.

“Just a minute… Please?” Buffy, in an attempt to win him round, pressed her back against the stone cold wall of the crypt, her body moved into an alluring pose, her tongue slowly licking her lower pout. At the look of longing on his face, she knew she was succeeding.

“Buffy…” What was meant to be an order came out as a plea for mercy, and she smiled sweetly, knowing she had him where she wanted him.

The petite blonde sidled up to him, slender hips swaying softly and tiny fingers curved around his waist until they locked behind his back. He knew he shouldn’t, not with Cordelia putting herself in danger, but watching the delicate motions of the slayer’s hips, Angel couldn’t help himself. Buffy lifted her face and stood on her tip-toes, issuing an open invitation for him to kiss her. “How often do I see you?”

Angel decided what she said was true, Cordelia would be fine and she’d probably scream if she wasn’t. The vampire’s mouth flickered into a half smile as he allowed himself to be pulled so his chest was brushing Buffy’s; at the scent of arousal stemming from her, the vampire leaned down with eyes shut in anticipation of her kiss. He shivered at the first taste, his tongue savouring it and mind committing it to memory.

Moments like these were too few and far between.

One kiss led to another and another and another, until she was moaning softly against his mouth and pushing her body into his. Soon and only for a short while, she forgot about everything in favour of sharing some precious moments together, because that’s all that mattered. Just her and Angel, together, as it should be.


It hurt to breath as a weird pressure expanded through her chest until it felt like her lungs became two sizes to big for her body. Cordelia tried to look down but it hurt, so she looked to Willow and Xander instead only to see them staring at her. The brunette quizzically cocked her head to one side, a question on her lips but nothing except struggling gasps came out.

It had all happened so fast. One minute Cordelia had been holding his hand and the next… Willow was pushed out the way and Xander’s gaze was drawn to the tip of a claw protruding from his girlfriend’s chest with shocked horror on his face. He’d seen everything but heard nothing, except for the sick sound of flesh being pierced, something he’d never forget.

“Will,” Xander managed to speak around the thickening lump rapidly forming in his throat. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the darkening stain on Cordy’s Razorbacks t-shirt. It wasn’t right that she should bleed so much?

Panicked and widened green eyes shot to him, her pale face nodded and she tried to move fast in order to get help, but Willow wasn’t able to do more than back away slowly.

Trying to get through to the red head, “WILLOW,” this time, the order was louder and full of distress, and if the sound of speeding footsteps were any indication, it worked. He was left to watch as the spiked claw slid from Cordelia’s chest, blood trickled out in an alarming rate until it created a pool under her dangling feet. Her body was released and she crumpled to the bloodied grass, her knees buckled with weakness and hands slipped in the red wetness.

Oh God, what the fuck was he supposed to do? The demon was right in front of him but she was on the ground and barely breathing. Where the hell were Buffy and Angel? Xander attempted to move forward, get close enough to move Cordelia, but the demon heckled and he cried out as another claw penetrated her. It was almost as though the thing was protecting it’s food.

Seeing her helpless and on the brink of death, was not the worst of it. She wasn’t crying or screaming, or giving any indication she was suffering at all. She was just laying there, still as death, except for the almost unseen movement of her lips saying “Help me?” The words were too quiet, to whispered, for him to hear, and she felt the last bit of hope fade.

Xander bent down, and without taking his eyes off the creature, scrabbled around in the dirt for rocks to throw. He wasn’t so arrogant or stupid as to think he stood a chance of winning against it. His panicked orbs scanned the area, where the hell was Willow with help?


Too lost in their kisses to hear the commotion going on over the other side of the crypt, Buffy and Angel had to be physically disturbed by the red head. A protesting moan escaped Buffy’s throat as she was all but yanked out of her boyfriend’s embrace, her face scrunched up with irritation as she prepared to let Willow have it. Wasn’t she allowed to have a few moments of normality? A few moments with her boyfriend?

However, the dazed slayer blinked away the fog of lust as her friend shoved her away from the vampire, a trembling finger pointed behind in the general direction of Cordelia.

“Will?” Buffy quizzed as she took in her friend’s wild state, noting the tears glazing green eyes. When her friend took off, the blonde raised an unsteady hand to her suddenly quivering mouth, the sickly feeling of dread welling up in the pit of her stomach.

Something had obviously gone horribly wrong.


Angel, upon catching the strong scent of fresh blood, had already left Buffy’s side and was now stood deathly still, his eyes disbelieving as he looked down at the girl, helpless and dying on the grassy Earth. Her hazel eyes were bright with death and accusations as she ebbed further into darkness. He swallowed. That one moment had killed her. He had killed her. “Oh God”

“Don’t just stand there,” Xander’s choked voice snapped the vampire out of his stupor and spurred him into action.

Angel rushed past the boy to snatch Cordelia off the ground and ran, yelling “Run” over his shoulder. Buffy could deal with the demon, Cordelia needed help and fast. Over the rapid but quiet sounds of his footsteps, he could hear her breath decreasing and heart slow, and through his clothes he could feel her body clammy and cold.

Xander watched through withheld tears as the vampire took off with his girlfriend before spinning on his heel and doing as he was told. Giles. I need too get to Giles. He’ll know what to do. The Earth was hard under his feet and the soft mud had his sneakers slipping, his mind pursuing the quickest way to reach the school and hope. He prayed with each step he stumbled over and wiped unacknowledged tears that fell down his cheeks.


The hospital was too far away, not that there was anything they could do too save her. It wasn’t so much the blood loss, it was the poison. The main danger of a Falarl demon was it’s poison; it paralysed and rendered the victim unable to do anything but lay there and die. Cordelia had placed her trust in them both, and they’d done more than failed her; they’d killed her.

There had to be a way to save her, Angel thought as he paid no heed to breaking down the door to his apartment, there had to be something he could do. Gently as possible, he lay the girl on his bed and tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore the look in her eyes. He didn’t want to see her soul as it, and her life, was torn from her body without a fight.

Seeing the final rays begin to ebb from her eyes, the vampire cupped both her cheeks in his hands and shook, trying to get her to stay with him. His cool fingers travelled over the slender column of her throat and swiftly moved after feeling her weakening pulse, he touched her skin, her hair, any part of her in an effort to assure her she’d be okay. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Not normally a one for swearing, not even in his thoughts, he found the situation called for just that. His brain still didn’t comprehend just what was happening on his bed.

Cordelia Chase, the girl he and Buffy once referred to as Sporedelia, was bleeding and paralysed on his bed.

“Think,” Angel mumbled as he tore her t-shirt cleanly down the middle and stopped on seeing the exit wound. It was an angry red and blood leaked steadily to stain her tanned flesh a dark red. Her bra was once a light burgundy, complimenting the colours of the cheerleading uniform, was now an ugly brown and the material soggy and wretched.

Her breath was slower now and heart struggling, the noise barely echoed in his ears. A tiny trickle of red caught his gaze and Angel’s soul broke as he watched a thin line of blood leave the corner of her mouth. Time seemed to stop in that moment, much like it had done earlier.

Her perfume that he’d often, but secretly admired was now overshadowed by the vile stench of poison and death. The body that held a bounce in her step was now limp; Angel held up her arm and let go, his eyes watched it’s graceless fall to the mattress. He tried to think of Cordelia as a corpse, as nothing but bones and dust. Those lively eyes hollow and as empty as the rotten shell of her coffin. He tried to see her, surrounded by wreaths and silk and dark wood, with her hair perfect and make-up done, laying there while people who didn’t like her threw flowers and sang her praises.

No, he couldn’t see it, didn’t want to see it. This was his fault, he did this to her, and it was up too him to put it right. These thoughts sickened him; they made him no better than those hypocrites who loved everyone once they were dead, or dying. If Cordelia had been fine tonight, just as Buffy said, then Angel knew he wouldn’t have given her the time of day. He’d maybe give her a grunt or stammer an answer or two, maybe even laugh at some silly thing she said, but he wouldn’t treat her as though she mattered.

And it was the truth of that which gutted him the most.

Angel wondered if she was still in there or if she’d given up, to find out he tilted Cordelia’s head to make her unblinking eyes meet his, and when he saw the faint glimmer of light still there, he treated her to a weak half smile. He was sure it wouldn’t be returned. After all, who the hell would smile at their murderer? “I’m the last person you want to see. I get that. It’s my fault. Sorry won’t help…”

Her gaze seemed to flicker, and the vampire panicked, shaking her a little. “Come on, don’t give up yet. I can save you. Give you a soul, like me.” Save her? Angel fought hard to keep his feelings off his face, you’re damning her. The sun would no longer bathe her in gold, instead the moon would shower her in silver. Her day would become night, she’d walk amongst the night blooms and not daisies. She wouldn’t see her beautiful face in the mirror and she would have him in place of her family.

Did he have the right to turn her world upside down and inside out?

Looking at her now and seeing the consequences of his carelessness, Angel was sure that yes, he certainly had the right to help her in whatever way he could.

He looked into Cordelia’s eyes and tried to discern if this, being saved and damned simultaneously, would be what she’d want. As he did, Angel realised he didn’t know the first thing about her, let alone figure what she thought. Here she was, barely nineteen and dying in his arms, and he didn’t know a thing about her.

She may as well be dying alone.

“I don’t wanna die”

Angel, wondering if he’d heard right, immediately came out of his thoughts to focus on Cordelia. He waited a vital second to see if she would, could, speak again.

“I don’t,” it was barely there, but he heard it and that was the main thing, “Wanna die.” She didn’t want to die, not like this. Not so helplessly, not without a chance to fight, and not without a chance to give hell to the people who caused this to her. She was pissed. She was pissed and hurt at the fact her life obviously meant nothing to the people who promised to protect her, and she would be damned if they were gonna get away with it.

If only she wasn’t so hurt, Angel would be toast.

He stared intently at her as he made the change from human to demon, hoping to see her eyes flicker with some form of emotion, but he got nothing. Three days, three measly days were all they had to get her a soul, and if they couldn’t…

Angel knew he had three days to find the heart to kill her again.

Cutting off the intense and horrible thoughts, the skipping of a heart beat, followed by two, then three, caused him to cease his hesitation. “I’m sorry if this isn’t your ideal way of life. Forgive me.” He leaned down, mentally wishing to relive the entire night.

He made sure his bite went deep. Cordelia was to be his childe and there’d be no mistaking that fact. He’d protect her to the best of his ability and see she would want for nothing. He tasted blood laced with the bitterness of poison and Angel forced himself not to choke on his failure. He swallowed, felt the humanity fill his veins until it was time to stop.

Pulling back, he split his wrist and tried, unsuccessfully, not to look at the angry red marks now decorating her slender throat. “Drink,” as droplets of his own blood soaked her tongue, Angel sagged in both relief and damnation. What was left of her life force began to fade, her body grew cool to the touch, and all too soon, she took her last breath and her heart stopped.

Angel waited, never taking his wrist away from her mouth until he was satisfied it had been enough. “There now,” he didn’t know what use soothing words of comfort would be now, but he said them anyway. He closed her eyelids and gently swept hair from around her face, then sat back and just looked at her.

People who said there was no dignity in death hadn’t seen Cordelia Chase.

Her skin was pale, yet still held a sheen of her golden tan, and her hair, though damp with sickly sweat, still fell in an abundance of dark curls around her shoulders. She was truly, classically beautiful.

The darker side of him, the part that remained dangerously hidden, praised the creation, and whispered sweet nothings over what was an excellent choice for a queen. That the birth of her should be done properly.

Snapping out of the intensifying thoughts, Angel needed to get her soul in place before he set about anything else.


Giles car screeched to a halt outside the apartment, no doubt there would be tread marks left on the road but at this moment in time, they were the very last of his worries. When Willow had barged into the library in a wildly panicked state, his main cause for concern had instantly gone to Buffy, his slayer.

However, When Xander had all but crashed through the library doors not more than five minutes later and his erratic voice bellowing out the name of Cordelia Chase, Giles stomach turned as his heart sank.

Immediately the watcher had been flanked by Jenny Calendar, who gripped his arm comfortingly. “Get to her Rupert, I’ll follow with Willow. We can grab some healing spells that might help”

So with Jenny and Willow staying behind, that left Xander and Giles to storm the vampire’s apartment, but as soon as he opened the heavy door, they were met by an immoveable Angel.

“I know who Jenny Calendar is, which family she descends from and what they can do.” Angel refused to acknowledge the realising gleam that lit up the man’s intelligent blue eyes. “We have three days to get a soul”




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