Willow's body collapsed to the floor with a thud. With her blood on his hands, Angelus reached out to grasp the sword that protruded from the stone figure of Acathla. Thoughts and images ran through his head as he opened his hand to welcome the sword's handle.

Then a faint sound bombarded his ears. Angelus froze, his fingers only millimeters from the sword. He could hear Willow's heartbeat as it slowed, her life-force spilling out onto the floor. He could still taste her blood on his lips, a sweet taste that had never before been registered with his taste buds. As he stood there, listening to the waning beat, he panicked.

Willow.

Hell.

Willow.

Hell.

Willow.

Dammit! The word echoed in his brain as he dropped his hand and turned around to look at Willow. She lay there, pale, with her red hair splayed around her head like a halo. He dropped to his knees by her side and looked into her glassy eyes.

For the first time in over two hundred years, Angelus saw his own face. Reflected in the eyes of the innocent, he figured that Hell could wait another day or two.

With the entire room looking on in confusion, Angelus bit into his wrist. Once the blood was flowing freely, he held his wrist up to Willow's lips, and she drank weakly. This time it was the vampire who felt the lifeblood drained from him. After several seconds, Angelus yanked his wrist away from her mouth.

He looked up to see the entire room staring at him. But when he began to fume, a few of the wiser minions fled. "What are all of you looking at?" Angelus said slowly and deliberately. The room was nearly empty within seconds. Only Dru and Spike remained.

"What the bloody hell did you do now, you bloody sentimental killer!?" Spike exploded. His wheelchair was unable to control Spike's rage, and the formerly handicapped vampire jumped up to sock Angelus in the face.

Angelus reeled slightly from the blow, then faced Spike with a grin on his face. His mind worked quickly, forming a plan. "I see you're up, roller boy. It's about time." He looked around Spike at Dru, who was cowering behind the discarded wheelchair. "I'm sure Dru will be pleased."

Spike fumed. "I don't give a shit about that crazy bitch! What the hell are you doing? You could've had Hell on earth! Why did you just turn the bloody hacker?!?" Spike nearly screamed into Angelus' face. He paced in short lines back and forth in front of the vampire.

The grin turned to a smirk on the elder vampire's face, and he shrugged. "I felt like it."

***

Buffy watched the scene in front of her in horror. Spike could walk? Willow was turned? Hell on earth...? She debated struggling in her chains briefly. But the noise would bring attention to herself, and she'd rather not have that. She shrank into her bonds to wait.

***

Voices once again echoed around her head. Stupid voices. Forcing herself to regain consciousness, Willow came to and pushed herself off the floor. She shook her head to clear the cobwebs from her brain. Sleepily, she blinked her eyes and sat up.

Spike and Angelus were fighting over something. Even Willow could sense the tension that existed between the two master vampires. She yawned and listened in on their little tiff.

"You don't get it, Spike, do you? Why do you think Dru's been muttering bout twos and ones? She's had visions, Spike. And they all say one thing: the hacker's strong. She's evil." Angelus licked his lips hungrily, thinking of Willow.

Drusilla drifted over to the two sparring male vampires. "Two are for one...one will be evil in the end...both of them..." A lazy smile appeared on her face as she tiptoed over to Spike. Oblivious to Angelus, she began caressing Spike's chest. The blond vampire couldn't contain the contented moan that left his throat.

Angelus grinned. "See? You've got Dru...so Willow's mine." He crossed his arms arrogantly and chuckled.

"Perhaps Willow ought to decide who she belongs to."