The look on his face was one of exasperation. Scowling, he looked at his hand. "Damn it, you're a little she-cat, aren't you?"

Angel didn't answer. Instead, she backed away.

The man sighed and reached up with his uninjured hand, pushing his hair back from his face. "Look, you can stay as far away from me as you want but if you try to leave the house, I'm going to stop you. You won't like that. Let's just avoid it."

There was another crash outside, strong enough to shake the house down to the foundation. Low, ugly curses, an animalistic snarl. The nasty, slimy voice promising-no. You didn't hear that. You didn't hear that.

The words broke off mid-sentence-or they were cut off, probably by a fist. She could hear it, the ugly thwack of flesh on flesh. Her mind shied away from what was happening on the porch-even from who was on the porch, because she couldn't think about that and the man in front of her, the man she had to get past if she was going to get out of here.

"What do you want?" she asked. The words came out through a throat gone tight with fear and had as much substance as cotton candy, but he heard her well enough.

A small, gentle smile curled his lips and he said, "Just to help. That's all."

He cocked his head and when he looked at her, Angel suspected he saw far deeper than most.

Her suspicions were confirmed when he said, "You can tell if I'm lying or not, if you'll let yourself."

She swallowed and jerked her gaze away from him. There was no way she was lowering her shields right now, not with...

with...whatever that was outside her front door. She couldn't take having that evil taint inside her thoughts again.

Sidling along, she edged a little farther away from Blond, Strange and Scary. He stood where he was, thumbs hooked into the pockets of his jeans. His chest was bare, revealing sleek, coiled muscles. Save for the slow rhythm of his breathing, he hadn 't moved at all and he looked content to just stand there watching her.

"What's going on?" she asked.

He glanced toward the window and then back at her face. "That's a story that would take a very long time." He frowned and moved forward. "You need to step away from the window."

Angel slid her gaze to the window and then back to him. With a sneer, she asked, "Why? You actually think I'm going to try to climb through it?"

"No. I think-" The look on his face abruptly changed and although some part of her mind realized he 'd moved, her eyes couldn't track him. Before she could figure that bit out, he had already grabbed her and spun her away from the window.

Just as something crashed into it. Or someone. Whoever it was didn't come flying in but shards of glass did. Angel felt a few graze her left hand, but the rest of her body was shielded.

Shielded by his very bare upper body.

"That's why." He lifted her up with one arm and carried her around the couch, depositing her onto the thick cushions. Eyes narrowed on her face, he crouched down in front of her, "Stay away from the windows, if you please."

Then he stood and as he turned away, she saw the blood on his back. Long, thin rivulets of red running down his back-the glass. Somehow, he known the window was going to break and he'd kept it from cutting her. Swallowing, she decided she might just stay right where she was. For now.

A soft whimpering sound caught her attention and she turned her head to look at Rufus. He was still on the ground, but he wasn't laying prostrated any more. He had rolled onto his belly and lay with his head on the floor as he crept forward, eying the blond stranger. "What did you do to my dog?"

He turned away from the open window to look at Rufus. Shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh and then he moved away to kneel down in front of the dog. "I didn't do anything to him, ma'am. He just..." A faint smile cracked his somber face, a smile that made him look all too human, all too friendly. "He knows who the bigger dog is, that's all. Come on, boy." That deep, bass rumble dropped a bit more and he held a hand out to Rufus. Rufus whimpered, whined and crawled forward until he could lick the man's hand. "That's it. I ain't gonna hurt you, but you already know that, don't you?"

He slid Angel a look and then added, "Maybe you should tell your mistress that." He gave Rufus one final stroke and then gestured to Angel. "Go on, boy."

Rufus, as pleased as a puppy, bounded over to Angel, leaped onto the couch and sat with his big body braced against her side. Hooking an arm around his neck, Angel leaned into him. As the sounds of fighting continued outside, she pressed her face into his fur and tried to tell herself she was dreaming.

Dreaming.

Yeah. She could be.

It was possible, right?

Then the man's voice, low and furious, jerked her out of that mindset, jerked her straight back into reality. Jolting, she shoved herself to her feet and watched as the blond paced back and forth between the two windows.

When the low, ugly laugh started, dread rolled through her.

"You didn't really think you could stop me, boy, did you?"

"Fuck...you." A roar.

Angel caught the flash of movement from the corner of her eye and unable to remain where she was, she headed for the window. Blondie intercepted her.

"Stay back. If you please." He said the words this time through clenched teeth and there was a look in his eyes that she didn't like at all.

Worry.

Somebody outside the house screamed. It washed over her like a cold flood and unable to silence it, she cried out. A pain flared in her side and she moaned. Her legs gave out and she stumbled, swayed and hit the floor.

Dimly, she saw the blond man moving. Heard him swear.

Then he was gone, leaping through the empty window frame.

That laugh. Then a howling sound and the laugh ended abruptly, followed by something that made her belly turn just to hear it-wet, gurgling, like something out there was drowning. Drowning in what? Stupid, stupid mind-always trying to puzzle something out, even just little personal thoughts-and now her mind was hard at work to fill in the what.

Blood. Choking on it.

It was the only what that came to mind and she looped her arms around her knees and hid her face against her legs. Common sense dictated she stay just where she was. It was nice and safe there... Nice and dark and if she could just block out the noises coming from outside, maybe, just maybe she could manage to convince herself this was nothing but a bad dream and she 'd wake up...

Not if it's not a dream.

Slowly, she lifted her head and looked at the windows. She could hear Blondie out there talking, his words not making much sense, but at least she could hear him. She'd take hearing that harsh voice over the other one any day.

But no matter how hard she listened, she couldn 't pick up on that third voice...the one that sounded so heartbreakingly familiar. And it was the need to find out who'd been talking that brought her to her feet. Had her creeping to the window, peering out.

The moonlight shining down wasn't bright enough to illuminate much-and her floodlight was no longer working. She had no idea why. It came on if a rabbit hopped across the yard and this was definitely more than a floppy-eared bunny. Blondie was easy to see, the moonlight reflecting off that pale hair of his. He stood out in the yard, looking down. She scanned the yard and the porch, searching for something else. Squinting hard, she could just barely make out someone laying on the ground at his feet-he was looking down and talking to whoever it was on the ground.

Instinctively, she tore her gaze from them. They weren't who she was looking for. Not who she needed to see. Where...

Something moved-close. On the porch. She could just barely see it.

A hand.

It twitched. Fingers curled inward. Just the hand...that's all she could see. But the sight of that hand hit her as hard as hearing that familiar voice had just a few minutes ago. She swayed and ended up locking her knees just to remain upright. Leaning against the wall, letting it support her weight, she moved towards the front door.

Stupid, stupid girl...don't go out there! Finally, the two voices in her head had merged into one and both of them were screeching at her.

But she couldn't listen.

Not to save her life.

She had to go outside.

Had to look.

Had to see what was making her heart race like this-race like she'd just taken a freefall and knew without a doubt she'd land safely. Exhilarating. Intoxicating. Addictive.

No reason to feel like that when some freaky blond breaks into her house while a couple of unseen men battle it out like some live-action version of Mortal Kombat. In her front yard, no less. No, no reason to feel more alive now than she had in twelve years. She ought to be too scared to think, not burning with anticipation.

But she was. Slowly, she reached for the door and unlocked each lock with careful, steady deliberation. With that same careful, steady deliberation, she eased the door open and looked through the narrow crack down the porch.

She could see his arm now, could see that he was trying to sit up.

But she couldn't see him. And she desperately needed to. She took one small sidestep through the door, followed by another.

A third. His upper body was fully visible now, including his averted head. The shirt he wore was in tatters and she could just barely make out the glint of a gold chain through the smears of blood all over his chest.

A lot of blood, but she didn't see any wounds.

Then he sat up-and she saw.

A huge, gaping wound in his left shoulder, gushing blood. It was huge. Fricking huge, like a -kid-could-put-his-fist-inside-it huge. And he was moving. Not just breathing and hanging on, but moving.

Moving...moving...he swung his head towards her and the sight of his face totally drained her strength. The full moon overhead cast silvery light down on him, revealing a face that haunted her dreams.

Angel sagged to her knees, staring at him in dumb, stunned amazement.

"Kel...?"

His lids drooped low. His voice, broken and ragged, drifted to her as he rasped, "Get in the house, Angel. Now."

But she couldn't have moved if her life depended on it.

And it did.

From the yard, she heard Blondie's unmistakable voice as he swore. "Son of a bitch! Damn it, girl, get in the-" Abruptly, his words ended and a weird, muffled-sounding pop echoed through the air.

Kel lurched to his feet, moving with a speed that shouldn't have been possible, considering he had a gaping hole-no. No, it wasn't gaping...but it had been...right? He came towards her, reached down and grabbed her arm and without slowing, hauled her upright and shoved her towards the door. "Inside," he rasped.

None of it made sense.

Not seeing him. Not the way he pushed her towards the house.

Reaching up, she touched her fingers to his face and whispered his name. A tortured look passed across his face and he murmured, "God, Angel..."

For the briefest second, she thought he was going to... She wasn't sure. But all he did was shove her. Hard. So that she stumbled into the house. His lids drooped and then he looked at her. In the depths of his sea -green eyes, she saw a screaming, endless hell. Then he blinked and it was gone. "If you ever loved me, you'll stay in that house until dawn. You hear me? Don't-"

"Oh, how my poet's heart leaps at such an ardent plea."

From where she sat on her ass in the doorway, she shifted her gaze and focused on the face of the man who had destroyed her life. Destroyed Kel's life-or so she'd thought for twelve years. But the man turning away from her wasn't dead like she'd believed for so many years.

In a voice that sounded too old for his years, Kel said, "Let's finish this."

"Hmmm. Indeed. Just you and me." The other man-the thing-moved with a silken, boneless grace as he circled around Kel.

"Finish it so I can get to dealing with her. I've already wasted much of the night."

He slid her a glance and that alone made Angel feel so dirty, she wanted a bath. "If I'd known you were going to bring friends, I would have bought more of my little presents. You fool Hunters. I must give you credit; you have the most amazing knack for crafting weapons. Like silver nitrate. Even now it's poisoning that stupid wolf. I'd planned to use it on you. A pity."

His stringy black hair fell into his face, half -obscuring his pale features, but not enough to hide his gaze, that hideous dark gaze that somehow managed to gleam red in the night. There were dark splotches all over his clothes that made Angel think of blood, but she saw no obvious signs of injury. Even the bloodied marks on the man's neck-was it even blood? If his throat was bleeding that much, wouldn't he be unable to move?

Kel's bleeding like that-and he's moving.

Because of her. He was there because of her...somehow, through some bizarre quirk of fate or some divine miracle, he was here, again, to keep a monster away from her. The blinders that had hidden that night from her conscious memory shattered under that knowledge. Some of the night, she'd never remember-she'd passed out from blood loss, but for a few seconds, she'd come out of that black haze, long enough to see Kel struggling with a man.

That was all she remembered, but she knew that Kel had stopped this man from hurting her in the past. And he was determined to do it again-even when blood pumped from the wound in his chest.

Kel lunged. The two went rolling across the yard, fists flying, harsh curses drifting through the air. A laughing, mocking voice.

"You've lost all your toys, Hunter brat. You can't hope to beat me..."

Angel tuned out the voice. Tuned out everything but getting to her feet. The gray fog of shock was pressing in on her, but she made herself think through it, past it. Rufus appeared at her side, pressing his big body against her leg in support. Sinking her fingers into his furred neck, she stepped back over the threshold.

Rufus whined-something about the sound caught her attention and she glanced down at him. He was looking towards Blondie with soulful, dark eyes. Angel looked back towards Kel but when she did something else snagged her attention.

Something matte black.

Hurt him.

That was all Kel could focus on. If he hurt the bastard bad enough, he'd have to run away. Kel had done it before. He could do it again.

Angel was in the house and so long as she stayed over the threshold, she was safe.

Toronto wasn't dead. Kel could hear his heart beating and his breath wheezing in and out of his lungs. Whatever kind of poison the feral had shoved into the shifter hadn't killed him yet, so that was a sign it wouldn't kill him. Toronto was strong. Strong enough to battle the effects of silver, provided he was given the time and not injured further. All Kel had to do was hurt the feral enough that he ran away-give Toronto that time and then Toronto would take care of Angel. It didn't matter if the feral managed to kill Kel doing it.

Didn't matter-hell, probably better that way.

The feral struck Kel in the healing wound high on the left side of his chest, his fingers digging into tissues, sinew, muscle and bone. He grabbed, ripped, twisted. Raw pain shuddered through Kel and he just barely managed to hold his scream behind his teeth.

He let go of the feral, just for a second-it was a risk, but one he had to take. He had to... The world swum sickeningly before his eyes as the feral continued to tear into Kel's chest wound. But Kel didn't stop, didn't slow, didn't falter, as he reached for the final weapon he had.

A silver knife.