Yellow Roses, part 2: Appearance and Disappearance

"I'm torn between a clever retort and the pleasure of hitting you over the head."

--Yvonne's daily notes

Diabolique's scowl to the quivering female was indeed terrifying. With a cold look, she held the summons up in front of her face and calmly ripped it in two, her superior attitude daring contradiction. Tossing the pieces on the floor, she flipped her tight braid over her shoulder and silently stared at the messenger.

The other angel shivered, but she had been chosen for her strength to withstand the terrible gaze, so she summoned her courage and tried to hide her flinch. "Transfer effective immediately. Your replacement is on his way, so please do not linger." Her voice trembled a little, but she stood her ground.

The dark angel's voice was ice. "This is where I work. This is what I do. You've tried to change me, make me all pastels and pink and whatnot, but it hasn't worked, and now I just want to be left alone."

The other lady took a deep breath and swallowed her fear. "It's final. Take the assignment. Go now." The force of her words was negated by the trembling of her voice

Oh, please, she mimicked in her mind. Don't let the scary girl hurt me! Diabolique crossed her arms angrily. "There are twenty other people that I can think of off the top of my head who would be much better for this crappy job than me,"--oh, did she enjoy the other girl's flinch at her vulgar language!--"so go grace their space and leave me alone!" She paused for a moment, mentally reviewing what she had just said. Rhyming? Oy. I need to get out more.

The lady messenger was surprisingly resilient. "No. You are the only one. You will report down there ASAP."

Swearing a little more, not quite under her breath, Diabolique thought about this surprising turn of events for a moment. "Why me?" she finally asked.

"Why any of us?" The lady couldn't meet her eyes. "No one else wanted to. No one else can."

Diabolique twitched. "Anyone else can. Thank you, but I have to decline your kind offer."

Frustrated, the lady threw up her hands. "Your mother would!"

The deceptively relaxed body posture stiffened. "My mother's not here. I am."

"Why can't you be more like her? Less abrasive, more accepting? She should be here, to show you the error of your ways." She covered her mouth with her hand as she realized her faux pas. "Oh, no! I didn't mean--"

Diabolique began to walk, movements frighteningly controlled. "Yes," she declared softly, suddenly tired beyond belief. "Yes, you did."

Buffy looked around nervously. Something didn't feel right. She had slain three vampires, stopped a demon from flooding the city, and saved Giles from falling flat on his face in the library twice without breaking a sweat or a nail, but now... now there was something else, almost a presence. She looked around, still not seeing anything. Of course, Xander had broken the principle rule of adventurous lives just this evening: Never, ever say how boring life is. Never talk about needing excitement. Hello, Slayer here! Doesn't he get enough?

There was a tingling in her abdomen, and she whirled around. On a gravestone in the quiet cemetery sat a solitary girl about her age, wearing loose blue jeans with holes in the knees and a teal, fitted, yet not tight, t-shirt.

"So..." The girl toyed a little with the end of her high-ponytail braid.

Respect the dead much? Buffy sighed in relief. "You shouldn't be out so late. It's dangerous."

The girl seemed unfazed. "You're out late."

Buffy looked around her, still looking for the source of the tingles. "I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" the strange girl asked, eyes dissecting her. "You're Buffy Summers, right? The Slayer?" Buffy gave her a faked blank look. "You know, the Vampire Slayer? 'For every generation there a slayer. She alone can fight the--'"

"Who are you?" Buffy demanded, feeling slightly squeamish. She advanced on the petite girl.

The girl ignored the last question. "Well, you haven't exactly made yourself secret. What do you say to people, 'Hi, I'm Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I'm the one out of my generation chosen to slay vampires. By the way, did I mention that I live on the Hellmouth?' Can we not say 'secret identity', or we just stupid?"

The Slayer assumed fighting stance. "What do you want? Who are you?"

The girl seemed to think about this for a few minutes. "A vampire," she finally decided on. "I'm a vampire."

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "No offence, but you are seriously not giving off vampire vibes."

The girl's face suddenly contorted into the hunting face of a vampire, and with a snarl, she assumed fighting stance also. "Boo."

Buffy pulled out a stake, ready to slay the girl. With a flip, however, the girl was behind Buffy. The Slayer turned around and threw a well-placed punch at the vamp's face. However, the vamp-girl stepped neatly to the side and blocked easily. With her out-stretched arm, she twisted Buffy's fist behind her back and flipped the Slayer over. Skipping away, she sat on a nearby tombstone. "Why did you try to stake me?" she asked in a sing-song voice.

Buffy, disbelieving, stood up and grabbed her stake, not taking her eyes off the girl. "I'm the Vampire Slayer, remember? It's what I do."

The girl looked at her, easily meeting her eyes. "You let Angelus live."

Buffy kicked at the girl, who once again flipped out of the way. "You're not Angel."

"How do you know I'm a vampire?"

The question obviously took Buffy by surprise as she spun around to once again face the odd vampire. "You have a game face. You told me you were." What's this wacko-kid's problem?

"I could've been lying. If you believe everything that everyone tells you, you're in worse shape than I thought."

"I'll take my chances with you as the vamp and me as the Slayer, capishe?"

The girl rubbed her temples. "Good grief. Look, trust your gut, not your butt... or is it brain? I can't seem to tell the diff."

Buffy glared at the girl's sarcasm. "Hey! I have a cute butt!" She lunged forward, only to be lunging into air as the girl/vamp sidestepped and flipped backwards.

"Ehhh, try again! This time, look for subtle inconsistencies in me. And, reading your Spider sense should help, O Eternally Clueless One."

As the girl moved, Buffy noticed a small, gold cross dangling from a thin, delicate chain at the other's throat. That and the realization that her "Spider Sense" wasn't going haywire induced her to put the stake back. She didn't, however, relax her guard. "A demon, then. Bring it on."

Suddenly, Angel burst through the trees. "Buffy, I heard you fighting... You!" he cried, taking sight of the girl. "What are you doing here?"

She rolled her eyes. "Nice to see you too, Ang. Yes, yes, I'm fine. No, don't get up, I'll be fine."

Buffy glanced at Angel. "Friend of yours?"

The girl sauntered over to Angel. "Nice girlfriend. A little low on the wattage, but, hey, that's what the Watcher's for." The girl was acting casual and friendly. Too friendly, according to Buffy.

"Who are you? What are you? What do you want?"

The girl tipped her imaginary hat and made an exaggerated bow. "The name's Bond. James Bond. I'll be seeing ya." She walked away, fading into the shadows.

Angel turned to Buffy. "What did she say to you? Did she try to get you to come with her? Did she touch you?"

Buffy was still upset by the insult to her intelligence. "What the hell was that all about? She just turned into a vampire and then tried to convince me that she wasn't one!"

Angel grabbed her shoulders tightly, a little panic in his eye. "Buffy, did she touch you?"

A little surprised at the intensity, Buffy answered the question. "No. Why?"

Angel was almost relieved. "So, nothing about, oh, um... 'Come with me, where chains will ne'er bind you. All your grief, at last, at last, behind you'?"

Buffy frowned. "That sounds like some kinda song or something."

That's because she copied it. Angel sighed. "So, that doesn't ring any bells?"

Buffy shook her head. "The bells are silent. Why?"

"Oh, no reason."

"You wouldn't be holding back, would you? I'm not gonna die again, am I?"

Angel paused. "Not if I can help it." Leaning over, he kissed her tenderly.

The door swung closed as Angel entered his apartment. "Well," came a voice from the dark, "you certainly were friendly. No, 'Hi, how are you? Let me take your coat. Nice weather, huh?' Nope, you just dispensed with the formalities all together." Never mind that she didn't have a coat.

Angel flipped on the light, revealing the cross lady on his couch. "Diabolique."

"Why, yes, that is my name. Not, 'hey, you' or 'Buffyareyouokay' or 'Whatdoyouthinkyou'redoing'. Just plain, simple, boring, completely worthless Diabolique. Have a seat on the couch. I still don't bite."

Angel sat. "Stay away from Buffy. It's not her time yet."

"I'm not going to take your precious slayer yet. But when her time comes... I'll be there to see it happens."

"Diab--"

"Look, you've never liked my work, okay?" she snapped. Softening her tone, she continued gently, "But you promised that you wouldn't let it interfere with our relationship." She lay her hand on his arm. "You're my friend. Quite possibly the only one I have. Please, let's not argue."

Angel looked at his hands. "I guess. I just think--"

"Don't. It's not good for you to think too much. Your brains will rust. I speak from experience."

Angel smiled faintly, though worry lines still hovered around his face. "I've never known you to play with your victims before. I thought you were above that. I guess I was wrong."

"Now, now," Diabolique scolded gently, "Victim is such a harsh word... I prefer 'protégé' or 'student' or 'worshipper'... you're not laughing. Good Lord, you're not even smiling. I think you're serious. You're actually serious. You mean those horrible things! Are you serious?"

"Look, I know you have your job to do, and I respect that and all, but you know I'm not going to let you take Buffy from me."

"She'll always be in your heart." Angel glared at her. "Okay, sue me. I've never been sweet and nice and all that crap, but don't worry. She'll live to see tomorrow, if I have any say in it. Besides, isn't this little romance a little star-crossed? I mean, come on, vampire meets Slayer, one kills the other, life goes on..."

"You've changed. You didn't used to be heartless." Angel was using his pitying tone, and that really cheesed Diabolique off.

"You've changed, too! You didn't used to be stupid!" She sighed, looking at her watch. "We've never fought before, huh. Namesake--"

"Don't call me that!" he snapped.

"Fine, Angelus." She spat his name like a taunt and stood up, frustrated. "I had a nice visit. I'll be seeing you." Quickly, she walked towards the door, letting herself out noiselessly. Angel watched as she left, unsure of what to say. "I'll be seeing you."

Buffy crawled lethargically into bed, not sure if she could wait until she were actually laying down to sleep. Plopping down, she finally gave up her struggle to pull the covers back from her bed and slept. Unseen in the shadows, Diabolique watched silently as the Slayer slept. Then, when she was certain the teen was asleep, she gently pulled the covers up around Buffy and tucked her in, almost motherly. "Sleep safely," she whispered. "Sleep."

As Buffy came down the hall in school the next day, Giles practically jumped out of nowhere and assailed her. "Buffy!" he cried. "Did you perhaps... um... can I talk to you in the library?"

Buffy looked at him, a little weirded out. "Um, sure Giles, I guess..." They headed to the library, him setting the pace at grueling.

As he pulled her into the library, she dropped back stubbornly. "Okay, Giles," she said, crossing to the table and sitting on it. "What's on your mind that's so deathly important that you had to yank me away from physics? Whatever it is, it deserves top priority. Feel free to take a couple hours."

Giles looked around nervously. "Well, I was going through the texts last night, and, uh, I, um, came across something..." He hurriedly flipped through one of his big books.

Buffy looked annoyed. "Okay, what is it? Spill, Giles."

"Well, uh, did you meet anyone last night? While you were slaying, I mean?"

"Just the usual baddies, Angel... oh, yeah, there was one weird happening." Buffy played with a strand of her hair absentmindedly. "There was this one really weird girl... she tried to convince me that she was or wasn't a vampire, or something like that. When Angel came though, she went all friendly and left."

"Did she, um, try to convince you to come with her?"

"You mean, did she pull her van with darkened windows over next to me and offer me candy?"

Giles gave her a blank look. "Um... not exactly."

Buffy shook her head. "Angel asked the same thing. Why?"

Giles rubbed his neck, deep in thought. "Oh... hmm... odd... Maybe I translated incorrectly..."

Buffy cocked her head. "Why? What'd ya think?"

"Oh, it, uh, just said some, uh, things about, uh... maybe it's the year... the text is quite old..."

"Hum-hmm, look, Giles, is this gonna turn out to be another late night thing? 'Cause I've got... stuff."

Giles saw through her completely. "This, uh, 'stuff' wouldn't happen to involve Angel, would it?"

"Maybe... alright, we have a date, okay?" Giles started to say something. "Look, we'll do a little slaying, and I'll run over the park and cemetery on my way home."

Giles gave her a nervous look before scribbling out a pass to her first hour class. "Well... alright... I guess... just be careful, okay, Buffy?"

Buffy smiled mischievously and took the piece of paper. "Gosh, Giles," she sang as she skipped out. "Aren't I always?"

Giles sighed, muttered something unintelligible and turned back to the book. Neither of them noticed a pale-faced girl hiding, hovering after Buffy, in the shadows.

Angel looked at his watch, worried. Buffy was late, and not even fashionably late anymore. Well, maybe she just got stopped on the way here; she is the Slayer, and vampires happen... maybe she forgot... maybe she was grounded... no, she'd call... maybe... maybe... and his thoughts cut off as a harried Diabolique stumbled out of the darkness, sobbing. "Diab--what's wrong?" He took her into his arms, worried. She never cries.

"I can't find her." She sniffed, burying her head in his chest and clutching the sleeves of his jacket.

"Can't find who?"

"Buffy! Who else?"

He pulled away, snarling. "Of course, still playing your mind games! I'm not going to help you look for her, just so you can kill her! You're by yourself this time, sailor!"

Tears streamed down her face, making everything blurry. "Angel, no, really, I need your help! I should be able to find her no matter what, through thick and thin! Dead or alive! In sickness and in health! All that! But she just--she just..." She hiccoughed. "Just--plip! Gone off the radar! Please, I..." She bowed her head in shame. "I need help."

"Bull!" he snarled, glaring. Shaking his head, he calmed down. "Diab, I can't help you with this. I can't trust you to keep her alive if--when--you find her. And I can't stop you. Believe me, I've tried."

"So, what are you saying?"

"Go away, Diabolique... and stay away from me and Buffy!"

Diabolique stepped back, letting go of his sleeves. "Fine," she said, sniffing, using her hand to smear the tears away from her eyes. She swallowed and allowed her stony mask to harden her face. Make me ice. She stalked into the darkness of the night, clutching a black choker with a red gem on it. "He's always trusted me... before..." she whispered to the night.

Angel watched the figure disappear. Unbeknownst to her, she had upset him more than he wanted to admit. Looking at his watch once again, he proceeded to wait, becoming more and more anxious, and starting to wonder if he should call Giles. I'll give her a few more minutes.

Giles sat at his desk, rereading the prophecy once again. "This... uh, it... doesn't make any sense anymore..."

Xander clucked his finger at the Brit in a mother-hen fashion. "You've been studying too hard. You see, that's because you don't have what the real world calls a life. Take my advice, Giles, and--Giles?" He heard a snore. "Giles? Now he decides to sleep. Now," he reached into his backpack, "I can get back to the adventures of The Worminator. Best comic book around." He settled down in a chair, immersed in the comic. "Ooo, scary..."

A figure in ripped jeans and a teal t-shirt slipped silently through the library doors and glided towards the sleeping Giles. Xander didn't notice, as engrossed in his worm adventures as he was, and so the girl kept walking. Reaching Giles, she pulled one of the heavy tombs off the desk and set it softly on the desk. Opening it, Diabolique quietly thumbed through the giant book until she came to a certain chapter, where she commenced scanning the huge pages for information. She turned a couple pages, and they fluttered noiselessly down. On the next page, however, she found something interesting... and horrifying. She began to mouth the words silently as she read, more in fear than habit.

'The One who Slayeth
And the One who Killeth
Will surely meet,
And one will trace their sign on
The other, and Time will stop.'

"Damn cryptics," she muttered angrily, "Why can't they just say out and out what's gonna happen?" She turned the page with a crack, wanting to see the rest of the text.

Xander looked up at the sudden noise, hurriedly putting his comic book down. "What the--"

Diabolique froze in mid finger-point following the ancient language, and slowly brown eyes met green.

And smiles of relief broke out.

"You!" they both exclaimed in unison, sighing in happiness as good fortune smiled upon them.

"What are you doing here?" Xander asked loudly.

"Shhhh!" Diabolique hissed, crossing and pulling his arm away from the sleeping librarian. "Do you want to wake Mr. I-never-sleep-when-the-world-is-ending up before the slight time line of when he'll be awake enough to keep me here or asleep enough to let me go?"

"Ow!" Xander rubbed his arm. "Be careful with the merchandise. I happen to be considered pretty expensive equipment nowadays."

"Uh huh."

"What are you doing here?" he asked again, more quietly this time.

She glanced around nervously. "Buffy's in trouble. I needed to do research."

"Buffy's in trouble? What's going on?"

"I don't know."

"Where is she?"

"I don't know."

"What do we do?"

"I dunno."

"What do you know?"

"Buffy's in trouble."

"Great!" Xander exclaimed, more sarcastic than he meant to be. "That just about covers the basics."

She gave him a pitying glance. "I _said_ I needed to do research."

Xander looked around, thinking. "Does Angel know?" he asked, not sure of what to do.

She crossed her arms over her chest, her warm, innocent demeanor suddenly turning cool. "We decided to work separately on this venture."

Xander blinked in surprise. "But... I always thought that you two were, you know, best buds or something."

"Or something," she echoed dryly. "But, I don't have time for this. I need to finish reading my passage before I go out to look for Buffy again."

"That won't be necessary," an extremely agitated British voice spoke up. "We'll find Buffy on our own."

Xander and Diabolique both whirled around to face Giles, who was now standing in front of his desk. "What do you mean?" Xander asked. "She just wants to help. She's with Angel. You know, in a friendly sorta way."

"Yeah, I just want to help," she echoed mock-meekly.

"I'm sure," the Watcher told them in an angry tone. "Xander, step away from her."

"Why?" he inquired, curious and frightened by Giles' mood.

"She's going to kill Buffy."

Xander stepped away from her. "But, she's my friend. This is a very cool chick."

Giles frowned, not impressed. "Xander, may I say that your taste in women is rather, uh... well, uh, first there was the preying mantis, and then there was the mummy..."

Xander winced. "All right already, all right, you've made your point. No need to rub the proverbial salt in the wound... But she's not like them. She saved my life."

"She's dangerous... according the prophecies I've found, she, ah, can't be allowed around Buffy."

"I think she's trustworthy!"

Giles glared at him, then looked to where the girl was standing, watching the fight.

Or, rather, had been.

Diabolique had learned little from the prophecy, and was annoyed. Standing in the shadows of the library, she watched the Watcher say a cute little, "Oh, dear" and smiled. Her smile faded, though, and she was overcome with the emotion of self-pity. Not one she usually indulged in, but this time she'd make an exception. Her first assignment, and already she'd lost her subject. No, this was not something she wanted on her resume. If only she hadn't stopped to save that rabbit from being run over by a truck and had assumed that Buffy would be okay... but then, Buffy's presence had just disappeared. There was no mental locater beep in her brain, and it was almost as if Buffy had never been born. But she reasoned, if Buffy had never been born, then Giles wouldn't be worried, Willow wouldn't be so not-shy, and vampires would've taken over the world... so something must've happened to her... She assumed that Buffy would be okay. How bright of her. Note to self: Never assume. It makes an 'ass' outta me and loses the slayer.

Oh, yeah, but back to the crisis at hand...

Giles looked around to be sure Diabolique was gone.

Uh-huh, like he can find me if I don't wanna be found.

"Damn!" the librarian swore, sounding more British than usual. "She's gone!"

Xander, to give him credit, was taking this all in stride. "What did you mean, she's going to kill Buffy?"

Giles sat down, upset. "Well, I can't be sure... but, if I knew her name, I could confirm her, uh, status."

Xander, confused but glad to be helpful, provided the name. "Diabolique." Giles looked at him with morbid interest. "I'm allowed to have knowledge!" the boy exclaimed, slightly offended.

Giles sighed. "Oh, dear."

"I didn't think that it was that surprising."

"No, uh, her name. You see, uh, in Spanish, the word for death is 'Diablo'. Her name is a slight variation on that, 'Diabolique'. This confirms my suspicions exactly."

Xander chewed his lip, worried. "And, what exactly would those be?"

"She's the Angel of Death."

Xander was now worried and confused. "Come again? 'Cause, you know, I thought that you said that she was the Angel of Death."

Uh-oh, thought Diabolique.

Giles scurried over to one of his library shelves and pulled a thick, heavy-looking book out, flipping through it as he spoke. "Yes, uh, she, uh, takes people's souls onto the astral plane that they belong on. Essentially, the clichéd heaven and hell. Ah," he exclaimed as he found what he was looking for, "here it is. Uh, she's quite old... older than Angel... and most other vampires, for that matter. Generally un-liked by the other angels because of her... uh... attitude towards... well... everything. She's, uh, very, um, aggressive, but yet, ah, a, um, pacifist."

"Y'know, this is an entrancing conversation and all, but back to Buffy... you know, the missing Slayer?" Xander sat on the table, worried about his friend and not-so-secret crush.

"Uh, yes, um, Buffy. Well, she's probably with Angel now--"

Angel picked that very moment to burst into the library, spiky hair a bit wilder than usual. "Has anyone seen Buffy?"

Diabolique grinned, finding amusement everywhere in everything. The timing--I couldn't have written it better myself if it had been some crazy fanfic on the web or something. Remembering the situation, however, the smile slipped from her ever-more gloomy face, and she turned back to eavesdropping on the conversation at hand.

Giles head whipped around. "She was supposed to have been with you!"

Angel panicked, almost angry at himself for not stopping Diabolique. "She never showed up--damn it, it's all her fault!"

"I sense we're not talking about Buffy anymore, so, back to the problem at hand..." Xander prompted.

Giles had lost interest in Buffy, gaining interest in the girl now brought up. "What do you mean?"

"Diabolique... she caused this, I'm sure, somehow. I don't know how, but somehow she did."

Xander seemed to have the same thought. "No, no, no, not Diabolique. You remember her... your friend? The big cage? Me being rescued..."

Well, brownie points for Xander.

"She... earlier this evening, she told me that she couldn't find Buffy, and wanted my help. When I wouldn't help her, she got mad and stormed off... I think she's going to kill Buffy."

WHAT!?!

"Hey, I gathered that the Angel of Death only deals in souls, not the death of people! Isn't that, like, against the rules, or something?"

"Or something," Giles commented dryly.

"Diabolique was never one to follow the rules," Angel added, anger darkening his voice.

Down, boy.

"Oh, dear. Uh, do you have any idea where she might be?"

C'mon, c'mon, angel needs a new pair of wings...

"Tonight is a big night for vampires, if the Slayer is alone..."

Uh-huh...

"So, are you saying... she's dead?" Xander squeaked.

"No," Giles muttered. "Only if she's lucky."

Angel nodded in agreement. "Spike and Dru probably have her locked up for the ceremony in the warehouse on 14 and Main."

Bingo! Five in a row! Houston, we have coordinates, now... we just need a map... She walked through the library walls in search of Buffy and a map to the twisty-streeted Sunnydale.

Xander jumped up. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

Giles held him back. "Uh, we, uh, should have some sort of, um, plan. Barging in would probably get us all killed..."

Xander looked at Angel and Giles, who were looking at each other. "So, should I call Willow, or what?"

Diabolique found the warehouse, a difficult thing to do in the dark. She checked her watch. A Casio, water-resistant, black plastic, and very durable. Hmmm... an hour until sunup... I can't wait... I must look now. Gliding through the walls, she swept over the place, searching for Buffy. Voices reached her ears, and she paused in her search. Who was here? She closed her eyes, listening. Angel... Giles... Xander... Cordelia... Willow... I smell a trap... I smell a lawsuit the legal department's never gonna believe if the vamps do what I think their gonna... uh, oh. With super-human reflexes, she whirled around and silently jumped onto a pile of boxes. Uh-oh... uh-oh...

Angel felt the attack coming... he sensed it... vampires, surrounding the group... the words, "Uh-oh" echoed in his mind, his own thoughts, yet someone else's thinking. "Everyone, look out!" he cried, too late.

The vampires descended, closing in in a ring on the poor group of searchers. Giles had a crossbow, Willow was armed with holy water, and Xander and Cordy were going on less-conventional methods, but whatever worked, worked.

The vampires were unmerciful. Xander was the first one to go, which was the only thing that saved his life. Thrown against the wall, he slumped to the ground, unconscious. Willow, with her holy water, was beaten and beaten, and saved from a bite on the neck by Angel, who was armed with stakes. He would have checked on her condition, but he was suddenly overcome with vamps from every side. From the corner of his eye, he could see Giles cracked on the head and then shot with his own crossbow. Ironic, he thought, belatedly, as he watched his girlfriend's father-figure slump to the ground. "Giles!" he cried out, too late, as a vampire decended onto the figure. A vampire that was quickly dusted.

Her form was good, if odd, and Cordelia noticed this from behind a box. Unfortunately, however, she was soon discovered by a hungry vampire who had decided to leave the fray. "Help!" she screamed, running towards Diabolique. "You, Buffy-wanna-be, help!"

Diabolique gave a powerful roundhouse kick as the remaining holy water that Willow had been carrying was unceremoniously dumped on poor Angel. With a scream, he crumpled to the ground, where he was continuously kicked until another vampire could find a stake... somewhere. Cordelia was hit by a falling beam of wood, and her head slammed into the ground with a bloody crack.

"Angel!!!" Diabolique screamed, her mind suddenly focused. As she closed her eyes, all her surroundings suddenly were replaced with a crystal-clear image of what she was to do. With a motion of her hands, all the wooden fragments lying on the ground lifted in unison, and as she made a pushing motion to the sides, imbedded themselves into bad vampires' hearts.

Raising her head and opening her eyes, she surveyed the damage around her. Some of the party were faring badly... some were worse. The blood and gore surrounding her was reminiscent of a war--which was exactly what was occurring.

War.

She could remember a time, long ago, when she was war, when she had swooped down over the countryside and reaped souls by the hundreds.  Her Deathbrother, Pestilence, followed in her wake, whooping and crying out with the glory of the hunt, the thrill of it all.

A war.  A war of good and evil... and sometimes it's a thin line. Summoning all of her strength, she found the new power of what she was supposed to do.

Xander opened his eyes cautiously, moving his head a little. Yes, that was going to hurt later... Hell, it hurts now... okay, not a problem, don't think... He noticed Diabolique bent over Cordelia, blood everywhere. "No..." he managed to croak out. He had to stop the Angel of Death from taking Cordy! He watched, helplessly, as the angel gently traced a symbol on the other girl's forehead with her index finger. The symbol lit up, and in the light that spread, the wounds and cuts healed. Pulling himself to his feet, he stumbled over to his girlfriend and their savior. "Thanks..."

She nodded, mutely, and proceeded to trace the same symbol on each of the other's foreheads, excluding Angel. They rested peacefully, unknowing of the changes taking place. Kneeling, she made the dreaded last round: Angel. Bending over him, she touched his burning skin. With a glance to the windows, dirty as they might be, she noted the time. Almost sunrise, and no cover in sight. Bowing her head, she silently did one thing that she rarely did: she prayed. Please, God, give me the strength to help him. Reaching down, she covered his face lightly with her hand. "Dona Nobis Pachem." Pulling her hands back, she stood up. "Rise," she commanded in a bitter voice. "Rise and follow." Angel, in a trance, slowly rose to his feet, the burn marks from the water still evident. Taking his hand, she quietly ushered him into the day.

Xander, as much as he disliked the vampire, felt he should say something.

"Uh, you do know that he's a vampire, right? And vampires die when they touch sunlight?"

Her head turned back to look at him, and her eyes blinked back sudden tears. "I know." She faced forward again, leading the un-suspecting Angel into the dawning light.

Xander bowed his head, holding tightly the hands of the sleeping Willow and Cordelia. "He doesn't deserve it," he called after, knowing he couldn't stop it.

But they were gone.