Idly fingering the amulet she held in her hands, Alex turned it over to examine it again as she sat cross-legged on the cold basement floor of the old, dilapidated church she had chosen as her home base. It really was a pretty little thing: a large, unidentifiable stone the color of amethyst set into the middle of an ornate, archaic-looking golden sun. Its mate had been given to the heads of Wolfram & Hart, to be delivered to that souled vampire when he took on the LA branch of the firm. That, however, had not gone as planned. It didn't matter. Angel had stolen the other amulet anyway, and delivered it to the Slayer in Sunnydale.
The irksome part was that Angel himself had not worn the amulet. It had been passed on to another vampire, Spike, who wore it and used it to close the Hellmouth. All right. A decent enough trade. One souled vampire for another. She could only hope that Spike would serve her purposes as well as she'd thought Angel would.
Now she looked upon the items displayed in front of her. An open spellbook, a chalice full of blood, some indistinguisable runestones, and now the amulet, among other things. The ritual had been performed. Now all she had to do was wait.
((This pile of BS has been brought to you by Chris' Stomach Virus. :D))