The couch at her mom's house wasn't the same as the bed at Angel's, but it was better than nothing.

"Or something, huh?" Angel said. Her voice softened, becoming a low, husky purr that sent shivers down his spine. "Hmm...

like the sound of that. And we can do that no matter how late they get back..."

Shooting a glance at the clock, Angel wished Kel would hurry up and get here. It would probably be another half hour, easy, before he made it, though.

Still, it didn't keep her from sending the clock another look before five minutes had passed. She was jumpy. Uncertain of the reason, she made a pass through the house, checked all the locks, checked the windows. Everything was locked up, shut down and the kids were having the time of their lives upstairs.

No reason for her to feel like she was going to crawl out of her skin... But she did. Trying to make herself relax, she settled down in on the couch and turned on the TV. She found an episode of Law and Order, the only new show worth watching as far as she was concerned.

But Lenny wasn't doing much to distract her tonight. When the phone rang, she jumped and just barely managed to keep from yelping in alarm. Feeling like a moron, Angel hit the mute button on the TV and grabbed the phone. The caller ID read Unknown Number and she laid it back down without answering.

It stopped after ten rings-then a heartbeat later, it started again. This time, Angel sighed and answered, "Hello?"

But nobody replied. All she heard was heavy breathing.

Part of her wanted to be amused.

But the other part... Now she understood what was wrong, why she was so jumpy, why she'd felt so edgy ever since she'd shown up at the house where she'd grown up.

Evil...

It whispered through the air, chilled her flesh, and deep down inside her, she felt cold. All her life, Angel had known she wasn't normal. She heard whispers in the night, she saw things before they happened-like Kel. She'd been all of seven when they first met. But when she looked at him, one of her weird little flashes hit and she'd seen them-not kids like they had been, but older, all grown up. She'd been wearing white, he'd been wearing black and she'd heard You may now kiss the bride. From the time she was seven, she'd known she'd marry Kel.

If that wasn't weird, Angel didn't know the definition of the word.

That weirdness was on her now, and riding strong as she lowered the phone down. Her hand shook and it took two tries to get the phone to hang up. She glanced at the clock hanging over the fireplace. It was just after nine -thirty. Kel was off work, heading her way. But it would probably be close to ten before he got to Greenburg.

Upstairs, she heard mad little giggles and the occasional shriek of laughter. Slowly, she rose from the couch and headed for the stairs, following the sounds of play with the knot of cold fear lodged in her belly.

Halfway up the stairs, the phone started to ring again. There was a table on the landing and it held another extension. Coming to a stop by the phone, she eyed the caller ID display. Unknown Number.

She grabbed the phone and lifted it to her ear, keeping her voice down as she said, "What in the hell do you want?"

A low, nasty chuckle came through the line. Angel shivered as it seemed to wrap around her, echoing through the air. Not possible, the man was on the other end of the line and not in the house.

But she could feel the laughter. It turned her blood to ice and then he spoke.

"You, sweet baby girl. I want you."

The phone went dead.

Abruptly, the noise from the second floor died. The laughter stopped, the TV went silent and the house was as cold and silent as a tomb. Clutching the cordless phone in her hand, she raced up the stairs, towards her step-siblings' rooms.

Joey was laying in the hall just around the corner. So still and quiet. Kneeling by him, she laid a hand on his chest, felt the steady beat of his heart. But he didn't so much as flinch when she touched him and when she called his name, he didn't waken.

Carefully, she lifted him in her arms and carried him into Lindsey's bedroom. After laying Joey on the bed, she went to shut the door, dialing 911 as she went. Leaning back against the door, she lifted the phone to her ear and waited for an answer. But no answer came. No answer. No dial tone. No ring. Nothing but dead air. She disconnected and checked for a dial tone.

Nothing. Her breath started to come in shallow, harsh pants.

Lindsey and her friend Sloan were sprawled in the floor in the same boneless way she'd found Joey. Their chests moved in a slow, regular pattern. The TV screen continued to flicker, but there was no sound.

It was so quiet in the house that when the eerie laughter started a few minutes later, Angel jumped. Terror made her sluggish. It was like moving through Jell-O as she turned and pressed her ear to the door, listening.

That strange, eerie laughter continued and now it seemed to echo all around her, not just out in the hall. A dark ugly cloud wrapped her mind and Angel had to concentrate to think past the fear. But the more she focused, the easier it became. The cloud seemed to lift from her mind and once more, the laughter came from one clear direction, instead from everywhere.

"My...you're a strong one, aren't you?"

Through the door, Angel demanded, "What in the hell do you want?"

"I already told you that, baby girl. I want you."

Although he made no sound, she knew it when he touched the door. She could feel it. Cold seeped through the sturdy, white- painted wood and she almost took a step back. Scared to death, she looked back at the three sleeping, helpless kids. "What did you do to the kids?"

"Nothing, baby girl. They just sleep...for now." The man dropped the friendly tone and his voice went hard-edged as he snapped, "But if I don't get you tonight, I'll take them."

Angel swore she could feel her throat close up. Black dots swarmed her vision and the world danced around in dizzying circles. Don't you dare pass out! she screamed silently. Catching the inside of her cheek between her teeth, she bit down until she tasted blood and focused on the pain of that. The blackness receded, just a little, and she sucked air in through a tight throat.

Staring at the door, she backed away slowly.

The pure evil waiting on the other side of the door was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Not even in her dreams-and she had some seriously weird dreams-had she experienced anything like this.

The fine hairs on her arms and neck stood upright and her skin all but crawled from the tension in the air. Tension-no, that didn't describe it. This wasn't tension. It was cloying, thick and noxious. It was like the man's malice had taken corporeal form.

Every so often, she almost glimpsed some dark, hazy mist snaking in under the door, through the cracks in the side.

Reaching for her.

"What do you want me for?" she asked, her voice so faint, she barely even heard it herself.

But he heard it. Laughing that bone-chilling, ugly laugh, he answered, "Don't you know? Hmmmm...that mind of yours, you got power, girl. So sweet...so clean-I want it."

His voice turned hard and cold again, like knives made of ice. "Open the door, girl. You don't really want me to come in and get you, do you?"

Desperate, scared, she looked at the kids. They lay still, sleeping-no, it was deeper than sleep. They were totally unaware of what was going on and she was thankful for that much. An overwhelming sense of helplessness swamped her. There wasn 't anyway she could protect them if she got hurt-and that was exactly what was going to happen.

In her gut, she knew it.

Just like she knew there was nothing she could do to protect herself.

"Open the door!" This time, his voice was so loud, so deep and powerful, it hurt her eardrums. He struck the door and it rattled its frame. Little splinters of wood went flying.

Angel swallowed, took one step towards the door. She was crying, whimpering in her throat, but she didn't even realize it.

Her hand shook as she turned the doorknob and opened it, just far enough that she could slip through and she closed it behind her-as though that would keep those kids safe.

Don't look up, don't look up, don't look up, she told herself. She wasn't sure why, but she couldn't look at that man. Keeping her chin tucked low, she breathed fast, shallow. Another wave of dizziness swamped her and she swayed. A pale hand appeared in the field of her vision and she cringed, jerking back and pressing her back up against the wall.

"Look at me, sweet baby girl... Let me see those pretty eyes." His voice was an oily, insidious whisper but the command inherent in those words was almost too strong for her to resist.

Angel resisted. Refusing to look up, she inched down the wall. She couldn't see more than that pale hand, still reaching for her, and his feet as he mirrored her steps, following her down the hall.

"There is no point in fighting this, girl, " he murmured, his voice softer now, almost gentle. Almost sweet. But it was underscored with that same malice she'd sense earlier and it sent shivers racing down her spine. "You can't possibly hope to get away."

His fingers brushed her averted cheek and she bit her lip, jerked away. If she could have disappeared inside the wall, she would have. She was so desperate to get away from his touch, from his taint. He laughed, and thanks to her gift, she knew he was amused by her fear-aroused by it. Instinctively, she darted a look up at his face and even as she did, she wondered what in the hell she was doing.

It was like looking into the gates of hell.

Lust glittered in the depths of his eyes-eyes that glowed faintly red. Hunger burned there, but it wasn't just a hunger for sex-without understanding how she knew, Angel knew he wouldn't just use her body and walk away. Horrifying as that thought was, he wanted more.

He had harsh, oddly handsome features, his face planed down to hollow and angles, compelling brown eyes and a mouth that looked too full, too red for his pale skin. His hair was dark, matte black against his milky complexion and long, framing his face and hanging down past his shoulders.

There was something familiar about him, but Angel couldn't figure out why. He smiled, slowly, and Angel's heart stopped for the briefest second. Then it started race inside her chest and a surge of adrenaline rushed through her.

"Come here, girl," he purred, holding a hand out, palm up.

Oh, yeah, like I'm gonna do that, she thought, half hysterical. She shook her head, backing away from him, one careful step at a time, keeping her back pressed to the wall. From the corner of her eye, she could see the stairs.

His body tensed-a half second before he moved to grab her, she ducked aside and then lunged, leaping for the landing. She missed, hit the second-to-last step and fell the rest of the way. Adrenaline numbed the pain and she sprang up, dashed down the rest of the stairs-outside, get outside, see if he'll follow you.

Away from the kids. That was what she wanted-oh, shit.

She plowed straight into his chest. How had he...?

He smiled down at her, pulling her struggling body close, totally unaffected by her attempts to fight. "I knew you'd be sweet..."

He dipped his head-it was almost like he wanted to kiss her. Angel turned her head to the side and finally, the scream trapped inside broke free. He fisted a hand in her hair and jerked her head to the side-then he bit her.

A sharp, piercing pain-there, and then gone. She struggled, whimpering, crying, but he continued to stand there, holding her pinned against him, his mouth at her neck. She could feel the pulling draws of his mouth. Revulsion snaked through her as an inkling of idea formed in her mind.

Was he... He was... The guy was drinking her blood. Angel could all but feel it flowing out of her. Time slowed down, stretched out. She was acutely aware of every little thing. Against her chest, his heart started to pound, hard powerful beats, but oddly slow. Hot tears burned their way down her cheeks and she felt each one. His hand tightened in her hair and his body shuddered against hers.

Angel shuddered as well, but it was revulsion that had her trembling. He was turned on-completely turned on by her fear and the more she cried and whimpered and fought, the more it turned him on.

"Sweet little pet," he crooned after the longest time. He lifted his head and licked her. She flinched, trying to jerk back but the bastard was strong and she was so damn weak. "I think I'd rather like to keep you."

He moved with a blurring speed that had her already dizzy head spinning, turning her around so that his front cuddled up to her back. Using one steely arm to both restrain and support her, he lifted his free hand. From the corner of her eye, Angel could see him moving, although she had no idea what he was doing.

Not until he suddenly shoved his bloodied wrist in front of her mouth. "Take it, baby girl."

She clamped her lips shut, averted her head.

His voice hardened. "Take it-or what I just did to you, I'll do to the children upstairs. They haven't a chance in hell of resisting me." His cold hard voice softened to an evil, menacing purr as he added, "And children, they are so soft, so frail...so easily broken. So weak... You can survive this. They cannot."

Images rolled through her mind, but they didn't feel like her own thoughts. It was more like watching some sick, twisted movie that she couldn't turn off. Her stomach revolted while under her breath, she whispered, "No, no, no, nononono!"

"Yes." He nuzzled her neck, nipped her ear with those wicked sharp teeth. "They might not offer me the feast you'd provide, but youth and innocence-it's a sweet treat, all the same." Once more, he shoved his wrist to her mouth. Her throat closed up and the blood pooled in her mouth, thick, cloying and vile. Instinctively, she tried to spit it out but his hand clamped over her mouth, covering her nose until she either had to swallow or choke.

She started to swallow and immediately, she began to retch. Vomit rushed up her mouth, through her nose, but the man still had his hand over her mouth and she started to choke on it. Dimly, she heard him swear and then he threw her. She hurtled through the air and crashed into the railing at the head of the stairs. Gasping for air, she shoved up on her hands and knees and started to vomit. Blood, bile and the remains of the dinner she 'd shared with kids came rushing out. She puked until she 'd emptied her stomach and still she continued to heave.

He made no noise but she could hear him approaching. On impulse, she cringed away but there was no place to retreat. The splintered wood of the railing cracked and groaned as she huddled against it. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and slowly looked up.

Eyes that glowed red burned down at her. His hand shot out, grabbed the front of her shirt and hauled her off the floor. "That mind of yours is stronger than I thought," he murmured. He trailed his fingers down her cheek, almost gently, and then said in a queer voice, "I'll have you, though. Regardless. I don't care if I need to drain you to the brink of death to do it."

He pulled her against him again and this time, she was so weak she didn't have the energy to struggle. His teeth pierced her neck again, the uninjured side. It barely even hurt. The slide into oblivion was slow and easy this time and Angel wasn't even aware of it as she drifted into unconsciousness.

The low-level burn in his gut had Kel speeding down the expressway with the gas pedal pressed to the floor. His eyes kept straying to the digital clock on the dashboard and each minute that ticked by seemed to last an hour.

All damn night, something had been driving him nuts. Edgy, anxious, itchy, but he couldn 't quite put his finger on it. Then twenty minutes ago, he'd known. The itch had bloomed into a low-level burn and he'd known.

Angel.

Something was wrong with Angel. She was in trouble.

He turned off the expressway, five miles to go. That low-level burn wasn't low-level anymore. It was a high-octane explosion and he could feel Angel's fear, her terror-and pain. She was in pain. She was hurt. His neck burned in sympathetic pain as he took a left on Mulberry and then sped down the street, veering onto the shoulder to go around a slow-moving minivan. The driver laid on the horn as Kel cut back onto the road.

The Estates of Whispering Oaks took up several hundred acres of land along Deermont Road. The fourth and last street was the street where Angel had lived most of her life. Kel took it at a speed that had his tires squealing and as he hit the brakes in front of her house, he realized he couldn't feel that fear any more, or the pain. He couldn't feel Angel at all. Even when he tried to reach out, tried to sense her, he couldn't feel her-it was something that had never happened. For a good eight years, from the time he was eleven-Angel had been in narrow strip of trees behind her house, playing in an old tree house built by the previous owners, and she'd fallen, broken her arm. Nobody had heard her scream but Kel had been in his room, grounded because of a C- he'd brought home on a project for science.

Something had been wrong. He'd felt a burning pain in his arm, and he'd known instinctively it was Angel. From that time on, he'd always been able to reach out and just feel her-he knew when she was happy, when she was scared. But now, he couldn't feel her and that scared him more than anything else.

Logically, that drive took thirty-four minutes-he kept track of every last one. Those minutes were endless and when he pulled up in front of the old colonial house where Angel had grown up, he left the keys in the ignition and the engine running. Leaping up the steps, he knelt down in the flower bed and grabbed the little rabbit statuette, wiping the soil away from the false bottom and digging the key out.

He got the door open and dimly, his mind registered an electronic beeping-part of him seemed to recall the alarm system, that he needed to reset it-it was weird the way his mind cataloged all those minute details even when his heart was rushing like an express engine and his breathing coming in hard, rough pants.

As he passed by the narrow console table in the main hall, he grabbed a silver letter opener. It looked delicate but felt damn solid in his hand. The blade was thin and not meant for cutting, but the point if it was damn sharp. Not much of a weapon...

Fuck.

He saw her now, up on the landing between the first and second floors-at least he saw her hair at first, the long, pale golden sweep of it hanging down. The rest of her body was obstructed by a big, mean looking bastard who held her clutched against him.

The man shifted a little and Angel's arm swung into view. Kel saw red. Literally-and physically. Thin streams of blood flowed down her wrist, down her slack fingers to drip down onto the floor.

Time seemed to freeze, yet speed by in an incredible blur as he tore up the stairs and rushed them. Angel was unconscious.

Kel saw that almost right away as the man turned towards them, startled.