Immortal in Cascade by Martha Turner

Disclaimer: All things from Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to Joss Whedon, Warner Brothers, and Mutant Enemy. All things from The Sentinel belong to the United Paramount Network. All things from Highlander belong to Davis and Panzer Productions and Rysher. And things from Forever Knight belong to James Parriott and Barney Cohen and are owned by Sony/TriStar/Paragon Films.

The fan-fiction universe in which this is set belongs to Lisa Drexel, who has graciously given me permission to play in her sandbox. Thanks, Lisa, for all your encouragement and help!

Willow settled her trenchcoat over her short dark-red velvet dress, and checked to make sure her sword was hidden. Even after a year as an immortal, she was uncomfortable with the coat harness.

She took one last look in the mirror before leaving for the museum. Several of her friends in the Folklore and Mythology department at Rainer University had convinced her to attend the museum opening tonight. She wished Angel were in town to escort her, but was sure she could handle herself.

Surveying herself in the mirror, Willow noticed how the simple sheath dress and black heels complemented her short, stylish hairdo (chosen to keep the hair from falling in her eyes while she was fighting). She blessed Amanda for drilling her to fight in dress shoes, and for the thigh sheath that held her backup dagger. She put on her lipstick and headed out the door.

Jim shook his head as he listened to his partner talk about the show opening tonight in the Natural History Museum. Even all these years in the police hadn’t dimmed the shorter man’s enthusiasm.

Blair bounced on his toes as he pointed out some of the most interesting of the West African artifacts in the display case. "The masks you see here were used in the manhood rituals young men went through after their first kill on a hunt. The men would dance and act out the kill, then the young man would be given a mask of the animal he killed, before being feasted by the entire tribe."

"No, I’ve never been to that part of the Congo, but I’ve read descriptions," Blair responded.

Jim paused to examine an antelope mask more closely. He was a Sentinel, possessed of enhanced senses that enabled him to see the individual grains of dirt and flakes of dye on the wood. "The masks were colored?" he asked.

"How did you . . . Oh, right." Blair was Jim’s partner and Guide in the use of his senses. Blair shrugged and turned to the next case. "This statue is very unusual – it was used, so the legend says, by wizards during times of drought or famine."

Willow was standing near the same case, and edged over to better hear what the curly-haired man was saying. The man lecturing gestured wildly, and she jumped back, teetering a bit until the other man grabbed her arm to balance her. Secure again, she looked up, and up, and met the amused blue eyes of an older man with short brown hair. He was dressed in black pants and a deep blue shirt, and seemed almost military in bearing.

Flashing a grin, the man said, "I apologize for Blair’s . . . um . . . enthusiasm. I’m Jim Ellison." Jim’s eyes took in the woman’s short red hair, short red dress, green eyes, and long legs with appreciation.

"Willow Rosenberg. Thanks for the hand." She eyed the shorter man, dressed in brown pants, a white shirt, and a colorful vest. His long, curly brown hair was pulled back with a silver tie, and his blue eyes and blush conveyed his apologies. "So what were you so enthusiastic about?"

"Sorry about that. I’m Blair Sandburg. We were looking at this statue." He gestured at a foot-tall carving of a man holding some kind of stick. The carving was worn, and many of the details were gone.

Willow stepped forward, and put her hand on the glass case. There was something about the statue. Not taking her eyes off it, she asked, "What did you say it was?"

As Blair began speaking, his voice seemed to wash over her as the statue seemed to draw her closer. She felt something from it . . . like a promise of power, attracting and repulsing her at the same time. There were almost words she could hear in the buzz of the crowd, words of magic . . .

Blair trailed off as it became clear that the woman wasn’t listening. She looked almost like Jim when he was zoned out – over-focused on one sense and lost to the outside world. He looked at Jim, who also seemed puzzled, and then reached out to the woman, taking her shoulder in a light shake.

With a start, Willow came partially out of her daze. She could have sworn she felt fur . . . blinking, she turned to Blair.

Both Blair and Jim noticed that she still looked somewhat distracted. Extending his hearing and sight, Jim saw that her eyes were still slightly dilated and her heart rate was slow. "Maybe you ought to sit down for a minute, Ms. Rosenberg. Blair, get her a glass of water." Jim took Willow’s elbow and led her over to a bench on the wall.

As Blair rushed off, Jim urged Willow to sit, and began talking lightly. "Sorry about that. I know Blair’s lectures can be boring. I’ve had to listen to enough of them. But people usually don’t fall asleep on him."

Willow knit her eyebrows. "I don’t know what came over me." She looked up as Blair returned, and took the proffered glass of water. As she swallowed, a young woman with long brown hair rushed up.

Willow managed to find a smile for her friend. "I’m okay, thanks. Just more tired than I thought. Maybe I should go home." Turning to the two men, she added, "It was nice to meet you both. I hope to see you around." She walked towards the coat room with the other woman.

Alone in her apartment, Willow sighed and looked up a phone number. It had taken her ages to convince her friend to leave.

"I was at a museum – West African tribal art – and got almost hypnotized by a statue. It felt like magic – great power, but danger too. And something about fur . . ."

"Not much. It was used by wizards or shamen, to bring rain or food or something. It looks like a person holding a stick."

"Well, there’s not much we can do about it tonight. Get some sleep, and we can start research in the morning. Oh, and be sure to tell me if you have any strange dreams."

"Not at all. I must admit my evenings haven’t been nearly as interesting since Buf. . . well, in a while."

"It’s okay, Giles. I miss Buffy too. But boring can also be okay. That’s why I moved to Cascade in the first place. Off the occult and immortal paths."

"As always. Goodnight, Giles." Hanging up the phone, Willow felt her jaw cracking in a huge yawn. Maybe sleep was all she needed. But somehow she doubted it.

Several hours later, Willow muttered in her sleep, but no one was there to hear. It sounded like "Moo Harm. Free. Wolf?" She remembered nothing of her dreams when she woke.

Next morning found Willow in the Rainer library. The University’s Folklore Department was one of the largest on the West Coast, and the library was correspondingly well-stocked.

After a few hours, Willow found a reference to the statue. It was known as Mu’harn or The Shaman. The Nakili Tribe of the Congo region had a legend about a shaman named Mu’harn who had challenged the gods. In punishment, the gods turned him into a statue. Other legends said that the statue could be used by shamen to raise power through a blood sacrifice.

Willow checked the books out and called Giles. Unfortunately, Giles had found no more than she had, but he promised to keep looking. Willow sighed, and returned to her own research. She was studying legends of Immortals. Some part of her hoped she might find clues to the secret of the Game. She also checked for information on the Slayer. Those legends would be reported to Giles, who would tell the Watcher’s Council about them.

Flipping idly through some journals, Willow was surprised to find the name Blair Sandburg. She’d met him last night at the gallery.

Intrigued, she began reading about legends of the Quechua – a South American tribe – about Sentinels or Watchmen. The legends said that these were men or women with enhanced senses who protected the tribe. Fascinating, but not relevant to Willow’s work. However, the article claimed Sandburg could be found at Rainer University’s Anthropology Department.

Turning to her computer, Willow called up the department web page, but found no mention of the man. Checking into some of the historical records, she found that he had indeed once been a student at Rainer, but had left under suspicious circumstances, including accusations of academic fraud. She wondered what he was doing now, but shrugged and returned to her work. Angel would be home soon, and she planned to make the most of this uninterrupted time at the library.

Two days after the gallery opening, Jim and Blair walked into the bullpen of Cascade’s Major Crimes Department in the police station.

No sooner had they settled at their desks when the Captain, Simon Banks, called them into his office.

Ignoring the comment, Banks handed each of them a folder. "There was a murder in the Natural History Museum last night. There’s a new exhibit of African artifacts. I was thinking of taking Daryl," Simon said, referring to his son.

Glaring at the interruption, Simon continued. "Last night, one of the museum guards was killed in that room, and it looks like some sort of a ritual killing. And some statue was stolen."

Jim and Blair looked at the photos in their folders, and Blair paled. A body was curled in a fetal position, surrounded by a circle of blood. Symbols were carved on the body and drawn on the floor in both in what looked like charcoal and in blood.

"The Chief wanted you two because of your academic background, Blair. Do you recognize any of those symbols?"

Jim interjected, "We should go to the scene first. Let’s see what I can find."

Banks knew Jim was referring to his enhanced senses, but said merely, "Do what you can. I’ll try to keep this out of the news as long as I can. Get going."

At the scene, the body had been removed, and the forensics techs were crawling over the room. "No sign of struggle," reported one tech. "No display cases disturbed other than the one the statue was in. It looks like the statue was taken out and placed inside the circle during the murder. Then the perp took it with him. This is the statue."

The tech held out a photo of a human figure holding a stick. "I remember that one," Jim stated. "It's the one where that woman got sick."

"Willow Rosenberg," Blair supplied. "She's a grad student in Folklore and Mythology. Unfortunately, she's also got a boyfriend."

Jim grinned. "Checked up on her, huh? Well, you can't win 'em all. What about the statue?"

Blair frowned. "I remember reading about that statue in a book . . . We should check the University library when we leave. What can you tell?"

Jim extended his senses to examine the crime scene, but nothing stood out. "Too many people have been through here. There's nothing I can find. I guess it's back to old-fashioned detective work. To the library it is."

Blair leaned against the reference desk, smiling at the student behind the counter. "I can't find these books on the shelves," he said, passing her a slip of paper. "Are they checked out?"

The librarian tapped her computer and nodded. "Yep. Due back in two weeks. Do you want me to put a recall on them?"

Blair looked crushed. "I really need those books as soon as possible. Any chance you could tell me who has them?" He trained his best puppy-dog eyes on the woman.

The librarian attempted to refuse, but melted under Blair's pleading gaze. "I really shouldn't you know. But . . . well, don't tell anyone I did this, but some grad student named Rosenberg . . . Willow Rosenberg checked them out."

Blair' s mournful look lightened and he beamed. "Thanks so much! You're a real help!" Training one more smile on the woman, he turned and walked towards the door.

"It's our friend from the museum again. I thing we ought to pay Ms. Rosenberg a visit, don't you?"

Blair nodded as they headed for the truck. "Yep. There's definitely something weird going on. I'd hate to think such a beautiful woman could be a killer, though. But it's the only lead we've got for now."

Willow's computer daze was penetrated by the doorbell. Quickly saving her work and closing down the program, she opened the door to find the two men she'd met at the museum opening.

Jim spoke first. "Ms. Rosenberg. I'm sorry to interrupt you. We met the other night. I'm Jim Ellison, and this is my partner Blair Sandburg. We're with the Cascade P.D. Could we talk for a minute?"

Willow blinked and gestured the two men into the apartment. She'd had plenty of experience with the police over the years, and knew that helping them might keep their suspicions of her at bay. Not that she had any idea what was going on. "What's this about?" she asked.

"You remember that statue we were looking at?" asked Blair. "Well, it's been stolen."

Willow looked annoyed. "Aren't library records supposed to be protected?" she demanded.

Jim shrugged and looked at her. He kept silent, wanting to see what she would say.

"And if I did check them out?" she continued. "Then what? Are you suggesting I had something to do with the theft?"

"I don't think so," Willow responded. "Not without a warrant. Now, if there isn't anything else, I'd like to get back to my work."

Jim and Blair glanced at each other and bid her goodbye. Once in the truck, Jim started, "I don't think she knows anything. Her heartbeat didn't speed up when we mentioned the statue. It only changed when she was surprised or annoyed. Nothing else I noticed . . . except that she's in very good shape. Her resting heartbeat is low."

Blair shook his head. "We don't have enough to get a search warrant. But I still think she knows more than she was telling us."

Jim grinned at his friend. "You'll just have to postpone that hot date, Chief. Wanna see what the coroner found?"

"You always take me to the most romantic places," Blair responded, batting his eyelashes and ducking the swat Jim aimed at him.

In her apartment, Willow frowned. If someone had stolen the statue, they might try the blood ritual. And that could raise some nasty power. She needed more information.

Turning to her computer, she began to attempt to hack into the Cascade PD computer. Just like old times, she thought.

The coroner shook her head as she talked to Jim and Blair. "I don't get it. He was definitely alive while the marks were carved, but there's no sign of struggle. No ligature marks, so he wasn't tied. I'm testing for drugs, but so far the blood seems to be clean. For some reason he just lay there while the killer was cutting patterns in his skin. Weird."

Jim pulled out the drawer and lifted the sheet. Blair placed his hand on Jim's lower back to keep him from zoning out. Zooming his vision on the cuts, Jim noticed bits of grit in the incision. They looked like some kind of stone. Taking several out with tweezers, he handed them to the coroner, who put them in a plastic bag without comment. She'd worked with these two before, and though she didn't understand how they did what they did, she liked the results. "It looks like he was cut with some sort of stone knife," Jim stated.

The coroner nodded. "That would explain why the edges are so ragged. You can't get stone as sharp as you can metal."

Then Jim turned to examining the wrists of the victim. He couldn't find any sign of bondage either. "I don't see that he was tied, and I don't think the murderer held him down." Sniffing the body, Jim could find no trace of drugs among the blood scent, although he did smell a whiff of wood smoke.

"The killer was right-handed, I think," interjected the coroner, and Jim nodded absently. Several minutes passed, but Ellison found nothing further. "Let's go, Chief."

The two men stopped in to consult with Simon, and then returned home to eat before the stakeout.

Willow frowned. Hacking the police computer had taken longer than she expected. But now she was in. Quickly finding Blair and Jim’s accounts, she opened their most recent files, and gasped. "Oh shit! Someone’s practicing blood sacrifices already! We’ve got a rogue sorcerer on the loose!" Downloading all the files, including the crime scene photos, she began to cover her traces in the computer.

As soon as she was offline, she opened the photo files. Definitely a ritual sacrifice. But something looked odd. She mailed the files off to Giles (who had finally broken down and bought a computer). Then she called him.

"It’s Willow, Giles. Bad news. Someone’s trying to use the statue. I hacked into the police computer and found that someone killed a museum guard as a sacrifice. We’ve got a blood mage running around Cascade."

"Oh dear." Giles sounded distressed. "I’ve found out something else about the statue. The Mu’harn legend is true. He was an evil shaman trapped in the statue. While using the thing will increase the power of the user, it will also give Mu’harn power. If his spirit gets enough power, it can possess the activating wizard."

"I’m afraid not. And . . . er . . . I have other news. The . . . um . . . current slayer can’t come. That is, the Watcher’s Council won’t let her come."

Willow grimaced and banged her head against the wall. "Any more good news, Giles?"

Willow sighed. "At least Angel should be home tonight. So we’ve got an evil sorcerer killing for power. And if there are enough killings, this ancient evil shaman will possess the sorcerer. And no slayer. Plus avoiding the police. Have I left anything out?"

"Thanks for the offer, Giles, but no. You’re more easily hurt than me or Angel. I don’t want to risk it."

Willow smiled grimly and mirthlessly. "Oh, believe me, I know that. But who wants to live forever anyway? I’ll talk to you later."

With the click of the phone hanging up, Jim stopped his repetition of the conversation and dialed his hearing down. Turning to his partner, he raised an eyebrow.

Putting down his notebooks, Blair shook out his hand. "Whew. Some weird stuff there."

Blair shook his head. "I don’t know. I once thought that Sentinels and spirit guides were only a myth. But I won’t believe it until I see it."

"Okay. Whatever you say, Chief. You seem to be constantly expanding my horizons anyway. But I don’t think she’s our killer. She sounded too upset. She did hack the PD computer, but we’ve got no legal proof of that." Jim waited for a response, but his partner was flipping through his notes. "Blair? What is it?"

Blair stopped flipping, and stared off into space. "Slayer . . . Watchers . . . Slayer," he muttered. "But that’s a myth, isn’t it?"

"Blair!" Sandburg jumped and focused on Jim, who continued. "Care to clue me in?"

"They mentioned a ‘slayer.’ I’ve read references to that. Supposedly there is a girl given the power to fight vampires and demons and things that go bump in the night. Everyone thinks it’s even less likely than Sentinels. But they’re talking about them as if they know one."

"So they’re crazy and know old legends. What about . . ." Jim broke off mid-sentence as his head whipped around to stare into the night. "There’s something out there," he said, tensing. "Bad. At least, I think it’s bad. But I don’t know what it is."

Blair laid his hand on Jim’s arm and spoke in a low voice. "Okay Jim. You can do this. I want you to tell me what you’re sensing."

"There’s something. I feel it. Like a pressure inside my head. Coming closer. Familiar, but not. It’s bad, but it’s different. I think."

Blair frowned. "Okay, Jim," he said, still in that same low tone. "I want you to listen to my voice and relax. If there’s something out there, you should be able to tell where it is. Can you give me a direction?"

Jim pointed at a car pulling into the parking lot. A tall dark man wearing black stepped out. Jim blinked and focused on him. "That’s it. Him. He’s wrong. I’ve got to get him!" With that he shook off Blair’s hand, got out of the truck, and ran full-tilt at the man. Blair followed as fast as he could.

Angel got out of the car and stretched. He could feel Willow buzzing in his mind, the link stronger as he drew closer. Suddenly something – a breath of air, a noise – alerted him and he turned in time to be tackled by a large man. Rage grew in his eyes and he grabbed the man and threw him across the parking lot. A voice shouted, "Freeze! Cascade PD!"

Angel growled at the new threat, and threw himself into the air, flying towards the second man.

Blair blinked as the man in front of him seemed to disappear and reappear next to him. He was pushed to the ground, knocking the air out of his lungs.

Jim bellowed at the threat to his guide, but before he could move, a fist appeared from nowhere to contact his face and send him into blackness.

Anger returned to the shorter man and, with a carefully judged blow, knocked him unconscious as well. Then he picked up the two men and carried them to the door of the apartment.

The entire fight had taken mere seconds, and by the time Willow reached her door, it was over. Angel stalked in, threw the men on the couch, and grabbed Willow. His eyes were still yellow and his fangs had descended. He crushed Willow to him and kissed her brutally. The fangs cut her lip and he lapped the blood up eagerly.

While this action would usually lead to violent (and satisfying) sex, Willow was too worried about the men on her couch to join in. So instead, she offered her neck to the vampire, letting him drink enough to sate the blood-lust before pushing him away.

Angel stared, the tension not yet out of his frame. "They attacked. I won. They’re not dead yet."

His eyes flashed, and Willow huffed. "Thank you very much, articulate boy. There’s blood in the fridge. Go eat."

Angel stalked out of the room and even in her annoyance, Willow paused to admire his grace. She checked the men on the couch. They were indeed alive – and they were the police officers from earlier that day.

Willow groaned. As if she didn’t have enough problems to deal with. An answering groan from Blair’s lips heralded his return to consciousness. Willow sent a furious mental message to Angel in the kitchen. *Stay there until you’re under control.* A softer mental growl of agreement responded.

The first thing Blair had done upon waking was to look for Jim. Finding him on the couch – breathing but asleep or unconscious – he turned to look at Willow. Somehow he was unsurprised to be in her apartment.

Willow’s green eyes met Blair’s blue ones, and she took another deep breath before speaking. "Are you all right? I’m sorry about that. My boyfriend is a martial artist and managed to knock you out."

Blair blinked, taking inventory. "Aside from a monster headache, I’m all right."

Jim chose that moment to stir and let out a groan. Blair reached out to Jim as the larger man stirred. "You okay, man?"

Jim’s eyes snapped open. "It’s still here. It’s wrong. I’ve got to . . ." he stood and turned towards the kitchen, wobbling but determined.

Willow attempted to step in front of Jim only to find herself pushed aside and Jim placing himself in front of her. She grabbed his arm and chin and forced his face towards her. "Detective Ellison!" she snapped. "This is my house. Stop at once!"

Jim blinked at her, his attention still elsewhere, and Blair chimed in. "Jim, buddy, come back to us. You’re zoning."

Blair’s voice seemed to break through to Jim, and he focused on his partner. "Blair? What . . .?"

"That’s just what I was about to ask," Willow interjected. "Care to explain why you two are here?"

Blair turned his most appealing face toward Willow, only to be met with the steely determination of her ‘resolve face.’

"I’m sorry we interrupted you like this," Blair began as he guided Jim to the couch again. "We were coming by to discuss the stolen statue with you. I’ve been trying to learn its history, but since you have the books . . ." His voice trailed off and he looked hopefully at her, noting with inward glee the softening of her features.

Willow wanted to remain angry with the men on her couch, but Blair’s pleading look reminded her of the need for secrecy on her part. Maybe if she cooperated on the statue, she could head off any questions about Angel taking down the two police officers so easily.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I’m sure you’re just worried about solving that awful murder." The moment the last word escaped her lips, she wanted to cover her mouth with her hands. They’d only told her about the theft. In her consternation, her old habit of babbling came to the fore. "Er, that is, if there were a murder, it would be bad. But there isn’t. So it’s not. Well, except for the theft. But no murder. Right?" Inwardly she rolled her eyes at herself and made a mental note to become a better liar.

Blair and Jim looked amazed (and amused) at the babble coming from this seemingly self-assured woman. As Jim opened his mouth to question her, she blurted out, "I’ve got to go. To the kitchen. I left something on the stove. In the kitchen. So . . ." She whirled and retreated.

Jim and Blair looked at each other. "We need her help, Jim," Blair said. "She knows about the ritual killing. We need to know if this crazy’s going to strike again."

"You’re right," Jim agreed. "And we couldn’t arrest her anyway. If she’s good enough to hack the PD computer, I’m sure she hid the traces. Let’s see if we can get her to help by using her slip."

Willow raced into the kitchen, breathing hard and thinking frantically. Angel put down his bottle and smiled slowly. The blood had calmed him, but this was an enticing sight. He liked seeing women flustered.

Padding silently up behind to oblivious woman, he grinned and purred, "Have you been naughty, kitten?"

Willow jumped, emitting a soft shriek, and glared at the vampire. "You!" she fumed. "You are not helping."

"Yes. No. And don’t call me that." Shaking her head, she gathered her thoughts. "Let me explain," she started, then smiled and quoted, "No, there is too much. Let me sum up.

"Someone’s raising magical power by killing people. He’s using an African statue that holds the spirit of an evil shaman. We need to stop him before the spirit gets out. And I’m a suspect. Oh, and the slayer can’t come."

Angel blinked, and attempted to fit the pieces together. "What about the two out there?"

Angel shifted uncomfortably. His lack of ability in vampiric hypnotism was a sore point. "So what got you all flustered?"

"No help for it now," Angel determined. "Why don’t you try to cooperate – they might find this guy for us."

Angel rolled his eyes. "You’ve spent too much time around Spike, Wills. Let’s go manipulate the cops."

Listening to the conversation from the other room, Jim was able to nudge Blair in warning as Willow returned with the man from the parking lot. Seen in the light, he was tall, with brown hair and eyes, and he still raised Jim’s hackles. Jim determinedly ignored the feeling, and attempted to focus on the conversation.

"Detectives, this is Angel." Willow began. Then taking a deep breath, she forged ahead.

Blair sat forward. "What legends?" he asked. As long as Willow was cooperating, he and Jim weren’t going to press her on her knowledge of the killing.

"You know I study Folklore, right? I found that the legend of the statue suggests that it can be used in a ritual involving blood sacrifice to raise magical power. It was used during drought for rain spells. But only with volunteers." Willow paused, waiting for questions.

"And since magic’s not real, the ritual wouldn’t work," Jim began. "So he’d do it again."

"Either way, we’re looking at a second murder," Blair added. "So we’ve got to find this guy. Are there any restrictions on who can do the ritual?"

Willow shook her head. "I’m afraid not. But the ritual is pretty obscure. Maybe that would narrow down the field."

Angel stirred for the first time since entering the room, startling Blair, who had nearly forgotten him, and drawing a frown from Jim. "Are there any special ingredients needed for the ritual?" Angel asked.

Willow knit her eyebrows. "I think so." She turned to the computer and pulled up her notes. "Yes. The shaman needs to burn Baobab wood."

Louder, Blair said, "I’ll check on suppliers of exotic wood. Baobab can’t be too common."

Jim nodded. "At least we’ve got a lead. Ms. Rosenberg, thank you for your help. We’ll keep you informed. Don’t go snooping on your own. It could be dangerous," he warned.

Willow snorted gently and muttered, "Unlikely." Louder, she added, "Please do keep in touch."

After the two cops had left, Angel stalked towards Willow. "Did I ever mention how much smart women turn me on?" he asked, leering.

Willow laughed, and put her arms around him in response, losing herself in the kiss.

In Jim’s truck, he shook his head. "I don’t know whether to be glad of the lead or annoyed at this woman trying to solve police business."

Blair shrugged. "Yeah, I know what you mean." Turning to his partner, he changed the subject. "What was going on with this guy Angel? Did you sense something?"

"I don’t know. Nothing I can put my finger on. It’s like that business with Alex."

Blair shuddered at the mention of the female Sentinel that had almost killed him. Jim had reacted instinctively against her. "Do you think this Angel guy is a Sentinel?"

"No . . . it was different. Alex was a danger, but I just wanted to drive her away. I wanted to attack and destroy this guy."

Blair shook his head. "Well, tell me if you see any strange cats or have any weird dreams."

Later that night, Blair woke to Jim’s yelling. Padding up to the loft section of their apartment, he shook Jim gently to wake him. As his sentinel awoke, Blair asked, "What’d you dream about?"

Jim shook his head lightly. "I’m not sure. I was fighting. Nighttime. Creatures were attacking my village. Evil creatures – wanted to kill to survive. I was fighting with some sort of weapon and they disappeared as we fought. There was a girl fighting with me. But you know the strangest thing? The creatures we were fighting had no heartbeats!"

The next day, Willow decided to reinforce the wards she’d set around her house. After visiting the magic shop, she began the simple incantation. To her enormous surprise, the burning herbs flashed brilliantly in a display of raw power, and the smoke rose in the form of a cat that roared at her.

Willow sat stunned, but Angel roared out of the bedroom, game face in place, pain on his features. He looked reddened and blistered, as if caught briefly in the sun. "What the hell was that?" he demanded.

"I was re-casting the wards when something weird happened. I have to call Giles." Willow responded.

"Unfortunately, I can’t tell you much more without knowing what kind of cat it was."

"This is the second time I’ve encountered it, I think," Willow said. "When I zoned out on the statue, I felt fur right before waking up."

"Odd. But it does seem to be helping you," Giles answered. "Let me know if you encounter it again.

Meanwhile, Blair was reporting to Simon Banks. "So I found one supplier of exotic wood that ordered Baobab for a customer. The strange thing is that even though the customer gave no name and paid in cash, he had it delivered. I’ve got the delivery address."

"Good," Banks replied. "Check it out. By the way, have you seen the latest report from the coroner? Absolutely no sign of drugs but the victim was definitely alive during the ritual. It’s like he just lay there and let it happen."

"Best theory I’ve heard," Simon replied. "When are you going to check that address?"

"Right now," Jim replied. "It’s starting to get dark and I’d like to go home soon."

Willow hung up the phone after her fifth call to the police station. "Still no sign of them. I wonder where they went."

"Police carry cell phones with built-in trackers. If I can get into the phone company computers, I can trace them," Willow replied, typing furiously.

Half an hour later, she let out a cry of triumph. "Got them! They’re in a . . . warehouse? Not moving. Weird."

"Drive. I need my laptop," Willow answered. "But give me a minute to get my supplies.

Angel watched as Willow gathered her sword, several daggers, some pouches on thongs, and a large back holding her slaying supplies – crosses, wooden stakes, and holy water. She had dressed all in black to help her fade into the shadows.

For his part, Angel simply grabbed his leather jacket and car keys. They stepped out the door prepared for battle.

"Fifth and Roosevelt. That’s where the warehouse is. We may want to park away from it, though."

As Angel drove, Willow tapped on her computer and muttered to herself, occasionally tracing designs in the air. Angel knew that she was preparing for a magical battle by setting up spells that could be completed easily in the heat of battle. Although Buffy usually fought the battles during their years in Sunnydale, Willow had faced a couple of magical duels – including practice ones with Giles and Amy. He hoped she would only be facing the modern wizard, not the ancient shaman.

Angel pulled his car to the curb at Willow’s instruction, and turned to his mate for instructions. "Well, Red, we’re here. How do you want to do this? They’re your cops."

Willow looked up from her computer, the glow of the screen turning her face paler than usual and dulling her bright hair. "We’re only going to get one chance at this. I’m afraid the cops have been chosen as the next sacrifice, so they’ll be no help. They’ll be under a spell of immobility. We need to attack together. You’ll go in from the room and me from the ground."

"Right." Angel grinned ferally in anticipation. "Shall we synchronize our watches?"

Willow shook her head. "No. I want to link us by magic. Um, if it’s okay with you."

Yellow showed in Angel’s eyes, but he merely nodded, his faith in his mate complete. After everything he had put her through last year, she had the right to use him as he had used here. He belonged to her, just as she belonged to him.

"This will just intensify the bond we’ve already got," she explained. "I’ll be able to see from your eyes, and vice versa." At Angel’s nod, Willow put her computer on the floor of the car, pulled her legs up to sit cross-legged, and closed her eyes. A few deep breaths and a softly chanted phrase put her into a light trance where she could see the magic energies she was calling up.

Opening her eyes, Willow could see her bond with Angel as a softly-lit band of thicker air, passing energy between them. Reaching into herself, she found the point where the bond connected with her center. Gently, with mental hands, she widened the opening, allowing energy to flow more strongly. She followed the surge of energy along the bond to Angel’s center, where she again employed gentle mental pressure to widen the aperture. Suddenly, the energy piled up behind her mental self surged through, and she suddenly found herself looking out through Angel’s eyes. His awareness surrounded her, welcoming her with a mental chuckle and a wave of love and protectiveness. The feeling was seductive, and Willow gloried in their connection for a moment. Then the mental tone of Angel’s mind shifted, and he penetrated his consciousness into her being, drawing her along with him.

Angel shifted, waiting for Willow’s spell to begin, when suddenly he felt the bond between them awaken and deepen, and Willow’s mind flowed into his. He opened to her exploration for a moment, then chased her back into her mind, where he suddenly found himself looking out through her eyes and feeling what she felt. It was fascinating, and he wondered if he could convince her to try this during sex.

Overhearing Angel’s lewd thought, Willow came back to herself and gave him a mental shove accompanies by a silent huff. *Insatiable! We’ve got a job to do.*

Willow found herself wondering if this constant awareness of her lover’s presence was how Mike felt around Spike. *That building there,* she indicated, with a mental nudge towards a building down the block and across the street. *If you’ll fly around to the roof from the back, I’ll move to the front door. Eliminate guards quietly.*

Angel smiled briefly, and opened the door, flowing outward so smoothly that Willow doubted he even touched the ground. She slipped out of her own door and faded into the shadows, intent on working her way towards the warehouse.

Blair struggled against whatever was holding him motionless before the man with the knife. He thought back to how he had come to this point. He and Jim had left the police station to follow their address lead. They soon found themselves at an apartment complex near the university. The complex housed many students, and a quick check at the office told them that the apartment belonged to Alan Adams, a graduate student who was working at the museum.

At the door, Jim listened and found no one in the apartment. The two men made short work of the door and began to look for clues. As soon as he entered, Blair found himself drawn to a particular cabinet. Opening it, he found the statue that had been stolen from the museum. Something from deep inside warned him that there was evil nearby, but he could not tear his gaze from the statue. He reached out . . .

In the apartment, Jim had turned and seen Blair by the statue. He saw Blair reaching out, and he heard the panther roar, but it was too late. There was a bright flash of light, and he found himself in the spirit jungle. In front of him, the wolf that was Blair’s spirit animal was hypnotized by a snake weaving in front of it. Jim was sure the snake was about to bite, and leaped forward to save the wolf, but his panther spirit guide appeared and melted into a version of him and held him back. "Watch," the guide said.

Wolf fell asleep. The snake blurred and shifted to become an African tribesman. "Mu’harn," Panther-Jim whispered. Mu’harn laughed as he looked at the wolf. "This will be a great sacrifice! A shaman still learning his trade!" Mu’harn turned to reach for a weapon, and Panther-Jim whispered, "Now!"

Jim leaped, and knocked down Mu’harn, but the shaman shifted forms to become the python again. He wound around Jim and quickly immobilized him. His eyes widened as he examined his captive. "Ssssentinel! Yesss. Great sssssacrifissse. Essscape my prissson." Jim blacked out looking into the snake’s eyes.

Blair roused as Adams entered and conversed with the statue. Something about the conversation struck him as odd, but he was too tired to figure it out. The statue instructed the student to use Jim and Blair as the next sacrifices. The grad student agreed, and chanted over their bodies. Blair attempted to fight the sleep that stole over him, and sensed Wolf howling nearby, but blackness overcame him.

Awake again, Blair found himself in a warehouse. The grad student was burning wood – probably baobab – and using the charcoal to draw a pattern around the two partners. Blair could see Wolf standing outside the circle and growling. He was held back by the pattern on the ground. As he watched his spirit guide, Wolf stopped growling, and turned to look behind him. He growled a bit, but loped towards a small door in the wall. Squinting a bit, Blair could see Willow hiding in the shadows, holding a sword.

As Willow slipped through the warehouse door, she pulled her sword. The shining of the blade might attract attention, but she might also bless the few seconds gained by already holding a weapon. She turned towards the scene in the middle of the floor, and found that her earlier spell still allowed her to see the energy being manipulated by the man drawing on the floor. As she squinted at the pattern developing, she felt fur under her free hand. Looking down, she was surprised to find a large gray wolf sitting calmly by her side, looking up at her with patient eyes. The wolf was surrounded by the soft glow of energy. Remembering her conversations with Giles, she assumed that the wolf is the spirit animal she’s been encountering.

A slight mental nudge brought Angel’s awareness into her head. Looking through her eyes, he jumped as he glimpsed the wolf. *What is that?*

*I think that’s the spirit animal that’s been helping us. I wonder what he wants,* she replied as she knelt to look directly in the animal’s eyes. Enunciating her thoughts as clearly as she could, she tried to talk to the animal in her mind. *What do you want?*

The wolf replied readily, its thoughts appearing in her mind as a growly voice. *Save Guide. Save Sentinel. You help?*

Wolf shook his head and looked annoyed. *Them!* he responded firmly, pointing his nose at the two men lying on the floor.

Willow’s brow wrinkled a bit as she tried to remember where she’d heard the terms ‘sentinel’ and ‘guide’ before, but she soon dropped the thought. *Yes, I’m here to help,* she told the wolf.

*Good. Follow.* With that the wolf faded from before her eyes and she felt the room around her spinning as she was drawn in the wolf’s path.

As her vision cleared, Willow found herself standing in thick vegetation at the edge of a clearing in the jungle. The fuzziness she sensed at the edge of her vision suggested that the scene before her was in the spirit world, but a part she had never before entered. The wolf was standing in front of her, bristling as it looked at the clearing. Next to the wolf stood a black jaguar, a panther, also clearly upset.

In the clearing, Willow could see the two cops lying unconscious, being menaced by an enormous python. The snake was colored yellow and green, and seemed to exude menace. "Is that . . ." Willow began in a whisper.

*Mu’harn!* Wolf’s voice seemed to spit the name as if the mere word were poisonous. At that, the panther looked up at her, its eyes eloquently pleading. Willow kneeled at the side of the beast, and put her hand out to its soft fur. "But what can I do? I don’t even know where we are."

*Yes, you do.* A new voice intruded into Willow’s mind, and she turned, nearly falling in her surprise, to see a large golden-colored bird perched on a branch behind her. The bird shook its tufted head and looked at her. Its mind-voice was colored with amusement and a touch of exasperation. *You’ve been here before. This is what you touch every time you do magic. You just don’t know that you’ve been doing that.*

The confusion was evident on Willow's face as she assimilated this new information. "Do you mean that the rituals and everything, they're just to get here. After that it's like what I did between me and Angel?"

The bird's eyes seemed to glow in approval at this comment. *Exactly. Magic is energy. And you can manipulate it directly when you are here. The link you have with your mate goes through the spirit realm. It is your souls that are linked. Which is why I can guide you here, though I am guide to your mate. I am Eagle.*

Willow's mind spun, and the image of the tattoo on Angel's back floated before her eyes. "Do I have a guide?" she whispered.

*Ahem.* Clearing the throat didn't translate well into mind-speech, but Wolf got the point across. *The sentinel and guide?*

Willow blushed at the reminder, and turned back towards the clearing. With her new knowledge of the spirit realm, she could see the barrier around the clearing, glowing the same poisonous yellow as the snake's skin. She knew that she had to break that barrier. Concentrating on the energy around her, she used mental and physical hands to form a knife of soft blue-white energy. Lifting the mental construct in her hands, she prepared to breach the barrier.

Angel jerked in shock as Willow suddenly disappeared from their mental link. He called out to her in his mind, but there was no answer. Fear for his mate suffused him, and the room took on a golden glow as his fangs descended. But before he could leap into the air to find Willow, he felt a new mental voice. *Your mate is fine.*

The vampire looked around to find the source of the new voice, but could see nothing. *I am a friend,* the voice continued. *And you should focus on the enemy down there.*

Returning his gaze to the warehouse floor from the rafters where he stood, Angel saw that the man standing over the two cops had drawn a stone knife and knelt to begin the ritual. *Go. Now! Distract him!* the voice commanded, and he obeyed unthinkingly, flying down to grab the knife from the murderer.

To Angel's surprise, the man was almost as fast as him, and managed to hold onto the knife. Angel suspected that some of these rituals had increased the man's strength and speed, but then all thought fled as he focused his concentration on the fight before him.

Blair watched helplessly as his spirit guide consulted with the young woman, and then watched in shock as Wolf disappeared and Willow collapsed onto the floor of the warehouse. Before he could do more than blink, however, Wolf's voice appeared in his mind. *Come on!* The room spun into darkness, and Blair followed.

He opened his eyes in the jungle of the spirit world. Here too, he was bound, and he could see a snake approaching him and the unmoving form of his partner. He tried his hardest to fight the bonds, but could do nothing until a bright flash of light from the edge of the clearing distracted his captor. Momentarily, he found his bonds gone, and he rolled to his feet and started dragging Jim away from the python.

Willow appeared at the edge of the clearing, flanked by Wolf and Panther. Her voice echoed strangely as she spoke, but she focused clearly on the snake. "They are not yours, Mu'harn. The world is not yours. You should be dead."

Blair shivered as the python laughed in return. "You are missstaken, young one. I will essscape, and the sssentinel and sssshaman will feed my power."

The panther's tail lashed, and Jim moaned, and opened his eyes, slowly fading from the spirit world into the real one. Freed of his burden, Blair edged towards the vegetation, hoping to escape the notice of the snake.

"I will fight for them," Willow answered, and reached behind her to grab her sword. Of course, her sword was still in the physical world with her body, but her will shaped her magical energy into a glowing sword-shape that flared as she held it in front of her.

"Yessss. Fight me. Feed me, sssorceressss. Your power will only make me ssstronger."

Jim blinked and looked around him at the warehouse. How had he gotten here from the apartment? The sounds of fighting soon interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to see two men trading blows. One was the boyfriend of Willow Rosenberg, and the other was a man Jim did not remember ever seeing before, a man wielding a stone knife.

Reaching to his side, he realized that whoever had knocked him out had forgotten to take away his gun. Jim drew it, and sighted on Angel. He shouted out, "Cascade Police. Step away from each other." The combatants ignored him, and he fired a warning shot into the ceiling.

Still no reaction from the fighting men. Angel seemed to be gaining the upper hand, and pinned the other man to the floor. As Angel raised his head, Jim was shocked to see yellow eyes and fangs. Something primal inside Jim screamed *ENEMY!* and Jim aimed carefully and shot Angel through the chest. Angel merely jerked, and the other man took the opportunity to roll out from under Angel and begin the fight again.

Jim sighted carefully, but couldn’t be sure of his aim. Finally Angel threw his combatant into a crate, and turned towards Jim, his face back to normal. "Wait! I'm here to help!"

Jim didn't pause, and fired again at Angel. Angel winced but continued forward. Behind him, unseen by both men, the murderer prepared to leap on Angel to continue their fight. Jim fired a third time, and this time the bullet passed through Angel and impacted on the man behind him. A yell of pain rose, and an unearthly scream rose behind it.

At the same time that Jim was firing at Angel, Blair was attacking the snake. He had found several stones, and as Willow closed with the python, Blair took aim. Willow attacked the snake while Wolf and Panther harried it from the sides and a golden eagle raked at it from the top. But the snake was quicker than its opponents, and managed to evade more than minor damage. The writhing coils knocked Willow from her feet momentarily, and Blair threw his first stone. Willow took advantage of the reprieve and jumped up and restarted her attack.

Blair's second throw was equally well timed, and gave Willow her first opening. She managed to open a long gash in the snake's side, but its teeth raked her arm in return. Willow ignored her pain, and continued her attack.

Blair's third rock distracted the snake long enough for it to look around for this new threat. Willow leaped to take advantage of the opening, and her glowing sword cleft through the snake's neck, decapitating it. Like all reptiles, this did not kill immediately, and Willow and her allies jumped back as a scream rose from the mouth of the python. Unfortunately, the snake's death throes knocked Willow into the path of the head and the giant fangs impaled her side. Blair rushed to her, but the world went dark, and he found himself back in the warehouse.

Blair pushed himself up off the floor to find Jim and Angel staring each other down, with Jim holding a gun in front of him. "Jim, man," Blair rasped. "Where's Willow?"

Jim and Angel both turned towards Blair as he spoke, then Jim heard a weak, raspy voice call out, "Angel."

Angel, meanwhile, was distracted with the sudden re-opening of his link to Willow, and a wave of pain flooded towards him. He barely heard Willow's call, but followed the pain to its source. Willow was lying on the ground, bleeding from her side and arm. The wounds she had taken in the spirit world were severe enough to carry over into the real world. He reached out and gathered his mate to him, straining to hear her words.

Jim and Blair followed Angel's rush towards the side of the building, Blair stopping only long enough to make sure that Adams’ unmoving body would remain so. Finding no pulse, he hurried to the side of his Sentinel and saw Willow bleeding in Angel's arms.

"Mu'harn . . . dead." Willow gasped. Her eyes lifted to meet Blair's as he kneeled by her side and took her hand. "Th . . . thank you. . . For your help."

Blair blinked rapidly against the pressure behind his eyes. "Willow. You saved us. You'll be fine. I know it."

Willow smiled gently. "I know . . . what death . . . feels like. . . . I'm not afraid. . . . I'll be back."

Jim could hear the rasp in Willow's voice that meant that death was approaching, and he laid his hand on Blair's shoulder. He knew his partner would explain everything when he got a chance. He looked across the body to Angel, surprised to see his calm face.

Angel smiled at his mate, a spark of humor lingering in his eyes. "I will," he responded aloud. Mentally, he added *Enjoying your death scene, love? Don't worry, I'll get them out of here.*

Willow clutched at Angel's hand and responded, *Well, I didn't get one of these the first time. I'm going to . . . ouch . . . take advantage while I can.*

*Not to worry, love. Not much longer. Then you'll be all better. Any last words?*

Willow's eyes crinkled at the corners, and she gasped out, "I . . . love . . . you" *Rosebud* "Angel!" With that, she took her last conscious breath and allowed unconsciousness to claim her.

Angel looked up, and saw tears on Blair's face. "She saved us, man," Blair said, speaking both to Angel and to Jim. "In the spirit realm. She fought the snake and saved us."

Willow sighed in Angel's arms, and took her last breath. Jim could hear her heart faltering and then fading completely. He spoke softly. "She's gone."

Angel cradled his mate and attempted to look properly grief-stricken. Inside, he was listing the things he had to do – including getting the two men out of the area so Willow could wake in peace.

Attempting to put appropriate grief into his voice, Angel said, "We should . . . um . . . check on that guy. He was trying to kill you, you know."

Blair waved his hand. "He's not going anywhere," he murmured as he continued to hold Willow's hand. "He's dead. Nice shooting, Jim."

Jim frowned in remembrance, recalling both that he had shot Angel and that he didn't know who that guy was. "Who was he?"

"That was the murderer," Angel responded, laying Willow down on the ground and standing up in the hopes that the two men would respond likewise. "He stole the statue from the museum and wanted to use you two as the next sacrifice."

Blair refused to move, remaining at Willow's side. "I guess we should call Simon," he said. "And the morgue."

Angel rolled his eyes. Time was getting short, and Willow would wake up soon. He took a desperate stab. "Um, could you give me some time alone with Willow? To say goodbye?"

Jim nodded and helped Blair up and led his partner away. "What was that about the spirit world?" he asked, keeping half his attention on Angel. He wanted some answers from the guy and didn't want him to sneak out before giving them.

Jim nodded absently, knowing he could get the story again later. Angel was making no sounds, not even moving as he sat with the body of his girlfriend. Strangely, he still couldn't hear a heartbeat from the man, and wondered if the yellow eyes and fangs were real. His mind raced and stories flitted through his head, leaving only the word "vampire."

Suddenly, Jim heard a heartbeat where before he could hear none. His head jerked around to stare at the spot where they had left Angel and Willow. The heartbeats continued, and he heard a gasp. It sounded like Willow! Leaving his partner staring at him, he ran towards the site. Rounding the crates shielding the two from view, he saw Willow sitting up with Angel's arm around her, shaking her head as they talked softly. He swayed in amazement, and grabbed the nearest crate to steady himself as Willow looked up and noticed him. Over the roaring in his ears, he could hear her say, "Oh shit."

Blair rushed after his partner, worried that he was zoning out on some sense, and nearly crashed into Jim when the larger man stopped suddenly. He placed his hand on Jim's back as he swayed slightly, and was about to open his mouth when he heard Willow's expletive. He poked his head out around his partner, and saw the dead woman sitting up and looking rueful. His legs gave out on him, and he sat abruptly on the floor.

Jim drew his gun and pointed it at the two sitting on the floor. "What are you? You come back from the dead and you have no heartbeat," he growled, gesturing at Willow and Angel in turn.

Angel and Willow glanced at each other, and Willow said, "Um, we’re friends. We came here to save you. But we’re more than we seem." She took a breath and made a split-second decision to trust these two. "I’m what’s called an Immortal. And Angel’s a vampire."

Willow switched her gaze to the younger man. "I could ask you the same thing, Shaman. And you, Sentinel."

Jim’s face was blank as he processed the new information. Willow was right – they had come to help him and Blair. And they weren’t threatening now, even though he was sure the gun he held would cause no lasting damage to either one of them. Slowly, he lowered his gun, but did not put it away.

Blair saw his partner’s action, and struggled to his feet. He walked over to Willow’s side and reached out his hand. "I think we’ve got a lot to talk about, don’t we."

Willow smiled briefly and accepted Blair’s help to get up from the floor. "Yeah," she responded. "There’s this wolf that seems to be following you around," she added with a flash of a grin.

Angel stood slowly, his eyes still on Jim. "I mean no harm to you or yours," he said, trying to impress the cop with his words. "But I will defend what is mine." His hand closed gently over Willow’s shoulder.

Jim could see the determination in Angel’s eyes, and he nodded slowly. He felt the same way about Blair. Sighing, he put his gun away and suggested, "I think we need to sit down and have a long talk. But first I’ve got to call Simon and tell him we’ve caught and killed the guy who did the murders."

Willow quickly added, "Um, maybe we should leave, and we can meet later. There’d be too much to explain if we were here."

Jim nodded slowly. "Blair, make arrangements for later tonight. After midnight, I’d suspect. I’m going to make the call." In a deliberate act of trust, Jim turned his back on Angel as he pulled out his cell phone.

Blair sighed as he slumped in the passenger seat of Jim’s truck. "We’ll meet them at Willow’s apartment. Man, I’m beat. But I don’t think I could sleep before I get some explanations. And I suppose your secret is out too."

Jim nodded in agreement absently as he drove. Finding a vampire was not as much of a shock as finding a kindred spirit in that vampire. Something primal in him knew about vampires, but it insisted that vampires were evil to the core. But this Angel was different. He had honor. He cared about Willow. And he fought for good.

Willow put down the phone. "They’re done at the warehouse," she told her mate. "They’re on their way here. Could you put on some water for tea?"

"Everything. They’re . . . I don’t know how I know, but I know they’re on the right side. Our side. We can trust them."

Just as the kettle began to whistle, there was a knock on the door. Angel answered it, and Willow remained curled on the couch. She’d showered and changed to get the blood off, and was now dressed in blue jeans and a large white t-shirt of Angel’s. She waved at the two men as they entered and offered them tea. Both men accepted, and she went into the kitchen, returning with a teapot, mugs, and a plate of cookies.

The four sat in the living room, each clutching a mug. Angel had even agreed to a cup of tea, since he hoped it would make the visitors more comfortable. When everyone was settled, Blair began.

"I don’t know. I know that I can’t die, at least not permanently. And I’m not the only one," Willow responded.

Blair jumped in. "Woah, Jim, do you mean you can feel Angel? One of your senses?" Jim nodded, and Blair continued. "Must be something genetic, ancient enemy, and all."

Willow suddenly made the connection between the men before her and the articles she had read by Blair. "Do you mean that you’re a sentinel? You’ve got enhanced senses?" she asked.

Willow raised an eyebrow. "You’re more than just a Guide. You’re a shaman. But you don’t seem to know much about magic."

"This is important," Willow stressed. "Mu’harn wanted to kill you to gain all that power you’re not using."

Angel stifled a smile as Willow responded. "Yeah, something. You might say that. Why do you ask? Are you looking for a teacher?"

Willow smiled openly. "I’d be happy to start your training, but I wasn’t thinking of me. I’ve got a friend who knows a lot about magic and could use a new project."

Willow smiled more broadly. "Yes. He needs something to occupy his mind. And he enjoyed the research this week. I could tell."

"Good idea," Angel approved. "I think being around Xander and Cordelia and their baby is just making him feel old. And since he can’t work as a Watcher any more."

Blair jumped on that statement. "Watcher? You mean like a Watcher for a Slayer?"

Willow swallowed. This was more than she had planned on revealing. But if he already knew . . . "Yes. I knew a slayer in high school. Giles was her watcher."

Angel looked down as Willow responded sadly, "She died. Fighting evil. And I honor her sacrifice every day."

Willow blinked. "Um, he’s not. You see, when vampires drink from Immortals, they change. Become less evil and more . . . um . . . amoral. Well, like every person. There are good and bad people and good and bad vampires like Angel. Angel’s good."

Angel smiled at his mate and the absolute faith in her last statement. "I was evil. Then I was cursed with a soul. Then I lost it again and Willow gave it back to me. Then I changed again when Willow died and came back as an Immortal. And now we’re one."

Willow smiled. "Yeah. We’re trying to tell a eight-year story in one night. Tell you what. If you’ll keep our secrets, we’ll keep yours. I’m sure that none of us would like to end up in a research lab."

Blair nodded, and Jim elbowed his partner. "See, I told you that the tests you run on me are unnatural."

Willow looked intrigued. "Tests? You mean, you’ve been experimenting with his senses? Interesting."

Jim threw up his hands. "Uh uh. No way. It’s bad enough with Blair using me as a guinea pig."

Jim sighed softly. Willow’s appealing face was almost as bad as Blair’s puppydog eyes. "Doomed. I’m doomed," he muttered as he covered his eyes with his hand.

Overhearing Jim’s comment, Angel’s grin flashed. "Run. Run now," he advised Jim softly.

The two men laughed, earning strange looks from their partners. Willow and Blair shrugged at each other, and returned to their test plans. Willow wondered if she could get Angel in for some tests too.

Catching Willow’s thought through their link, Angel turned to Jim. "On second thought, I’ll come with you," he said. "After all, I can’t abandon a new friend to a fate worse than death."

All four laughed, hearts at ease as they relaxed with their partners and their new friends.