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Title: Illusions 8/? Story 1 in the "Who I Am, What I'll Become" series

Author: X_tremeroswellian

Email: faithboscorelli1@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: Not mine. Angel, Cordelia, Wesley, and any Scooby Gang cameos belong to Joss Whedon. Liz, Max, Michael, Maria, Alex, Isabel, Tess, Nasedo, and any other Roswellians belong to Melinda Metz and Jason Katims. Please don't sue.

Distribution: Just let me know the link.

Rating: PG-13 for now (for language, violence, adult content)

Author's Note: This is an Angel-Roswell crossover with possible cameos by the Scooby Gang from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Spoilers: For Angel, everything up through and including Shanshu in L.A. (1st season's finale), and for Roswell, everything up through and including Destiny (1st season's finale)...

Category: Story

Subcategory(ies): Action-Adventure, sci-fi-horror, angsty romance.

Keywords: Crossover/Series

Summary: Fleeing Roswell's painful memories, Liz takes off to L.A. and finds trouble, leaving Angel, Cordelia and Wesley to save her; little do they know they're in just as much trouble as she is.

Feedback: Would be appreciated. :)

Dedication: to Julia, Lili, katt_41 and Windsor. Thanks for all the feedback!

Author's Note: Thanks also to Jessi and Ash and Nova and Scott! :)



Illusions (Part 8)

"Excuse me. We're looking for someone we think may have been brought here," Isabel said, smiling sweetly at the secretarty at the nurse's station.

"Name?" the woman responded boredly.

"Parker. Liz Parker," Alex said.

She typed the name into the computer, then shook her head. "No one's been admitted under that name."

"You're sure?"

She looked at them, her eyes narrow. "Positive."

"Thanks for your time," Isabel told her as Alex walked away. She hurried and caught up with him.

"This is the fifth hospital we've been to. This could take forever."

"What if she's using a different name?"

Alex frowned and then sighed. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Alex..."

"Yeah?"

She hesitated. "Maybe we should be checking the morgues."

All the color drained from his face and for a moment she was sure he was going to pass out. Then he nodded. "Yeah..."

She reached out and took his hand as she lead the way, following the hospital signs. They both hesitated at the morgue entrance. "I'll go in. You stay here," she told him.

"No. I can do this."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Isabel nodded, looked around the empty hallway, then waved her hand over the door lock. She stepped inside the dark room, with Alex following closely.

She concentrated for a moment and then produced a ball of light in her hands. She turned to Alex. "Hold this."

His eyes widened. "Uh--"

"It's not fire. It won't burn you," Isabel said patiently, then she transferred the ball to Alex's hands, smiling as she saw the look of amazement on his face.

Her smile fled immediately when she turned to face the morgue drawers. A shiver ran down her spine as she started pulling them out one by one. Most were empty, and Alex wasn't watching as she opened the last one.

It was an old woman.

Isabel closed her eyes and shut the drawer. "She's not here."

Alex released the breath he'd been holding and she moved to stand beside him again. His eyes were filled with tears.

A wave of sympathy washed over her. She remembered not too long ago when she and Michael and Tess had rescued Max from Eagle Rock Naval Base. Before they'd found him, they'd seen some agents wheel a body by on a gurney. Isabel had been terrified that it was Max under the sheet.

"Alex, I'm so sorry," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him.

He closed his eyes and let her embrace comfort her. "Let's find her."

Isabel nodded. "We will."


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"This is pointless." Maria sighed in exasperation as she turned away from the hotel desk.

"You shouldn't have come," Michael said with a shrug.

She glared at him. "You would have loved that, too, wouldn't you? Well, you know what, I don't care. I'm here. Deal with it." She stalked away from him.

He caught up with her a few minutes later and she was halfway down the sidewalk. She ignored him and went inside to the next hotel. "Excuse me. I'm looking for Liz Parker's room. Could you call and tell her Maria's waiting in the lobby?"

The hotel clerk typed something into the computer. "I'm sorry. No one's checked in under that name."

She sighed. "Thanks." She headed for the door, and was halfway there when she suddenly stopped. "Oh, shit."

"What?"

"She's probably not even registered under her own name."

Michael frowned. "Why wouldn't she use her real name?"

"Uh, hello? She practically ran away from Roswell, Michael. She came here to escape. To hide. She didn't want to be found. Poor Lizzie," she whispered.

"Excuse me, we're here because she's gotten herself into trouble. If she hadn't acted like such a coward--"

"Hello? Pot? This is kettle," Maria retorted.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You're a smart guy, Michael. You figure it out." Maria walked away, leaving a dumbfounded Michael to stare after her.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Max Evans looked around the crowded police department. Cops and civillians were scattered everywhere. Phones were ringing, a baby was crying, and he heard shouting across the room.

In the midst of it all, he saw a blonde woman hunched over a desk in deep concentration.

Max manuevered his way through the crowd and found himself standing in front of her desk. "Excuse me."

The woman looked up, studied him for a moment, then frowned. "Can I help you?"

"I hope so. I'm looking for a girl my age. Long dark hair, beautiful brown eyes, about 5 ft. 4, and 110 pounds. Her name is Liz Parker."

A hint of recognition lit up the woman's eyes. "And you are?"

"Max Evans. She's my girl--a friend of mine," he quickly amended, an ache tugging at his heart.

"I'm Detective Lockley. Why don't you have a seat, Mr. Evans. I'll be right back."

The detective stood up and moved away from her desk.

Max sat down and his eyes flitted around the room. His pulse quickened. Out of all the noise in the station, the only thing he could hear now was the sound of his own heart reverberating in his chst.

He knew--with absolute certainty--that Liz had been here. Had sat in the same chair he was now sitting in. He felt her.

She was in danger.

Michael had been right.

He had to get out of there and find her.

Max rose to his feet, his blood hammering through his veins. He moved through the crowd quickly.

"Stop him!" he heard a woman shout.

His path was almost immediately blocked by a tall male officer.

"Excuse me," he muttered.

"Max Evans!"

He turned to face Detective Lockley. "Yeah?"

"You're under arrest for grand theft auto and attempted murder," she informed him.

Max stared at her in disbelief. This had to be some sort of a joke. "What?"

"You have the right to remain silent..."

Max didn't protest as she handcuffed his hands behind his back and finished reading him his rights. He was too stunned to speak.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Isabel and Alex gave up using Liz's name.

Alex had to agree that it was unlikely Liz had even been using her real name. Description was much more likely to trigger a response.

And at the tenth hospital they visited, it worked.

"Yeah, there was a girl brought in yesterday afternoon that fit that description. Pretty girl. Banged up pretty bad, though. A hit-and-run case."

"Oh, my God," Alex muttered as he grew pale.

Isabel's face drained of color as well. "Is she okay?"

"She released herself from the hospital yesterday evening."

"Maybe she went home."

Alex shook his head. "She would have called."

"What do we do now?" she asked with a sigh.

"Hit the streets, I guess. Start looking for her."

"She could be anywhere."

"I know. But what else can we do?" he asked in frustration.

"Good point. Okay, if you were Liz and were in L.A., where would you go?" Isabel asked. They looked at each other.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kate Lockley's mood went from bad to worse when she was approached by Lindsey McDonald. The man may be nice to look at, but she knew he was untrustworthy, and about as evil as human beings came. She knew about what kind of dirty dealings the man handled, and about the demons he and his law firm associates defended.

Granted, she may not have warm, fuzzy feelings for Angel and his friends, but she'd rather deal with them anyday over the scum from Wolfram and Hart.

"Detective Lockley, you're looking lovely today," Lindsey greeted her, smiling.

She looked up at him but didn't respond.

"I heard you found my car and caught the punk who stole it."

"The sketch you had the artist do left little room for doubt. And his fingerprints match the ones found in your car."

"I want to see him."

"It's unnecessary."

"I want to see the little bastard that had the nerve to steal my car."

Kate narrowed her eyes. "No."

"Detective, you don't know what you're dealing with here."

She rose to her feet and leaned toward him, her voice dangerously low. "No, Mr. McDonald, I know *exactly* what I'm dealing with. I know who you are, and I know what you do. And I don't for a second believe a thing you or any one of your associates has to say. Now, I have work to do." Kate turned around and walked away from him.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Liz walked next to Angel, her senses on full alert. She wasn't worried because he was a vampire.

A vampire.

Maria would have a hay-day with that one.

She smiled. She could just imagine her friend's reaction. Maria had nearly freaked out when she first learned that Max, Isabel and Michael were aliens.

Of course, then she'd fallen in love with one.

There had always been rumors about the crash, and about the aliens that supposedly performed horrible experiments on humans, implanted them with devices, mutilated cows. Growing up in Roswell, those rumors were even worse. She supposed it was that sort of thing that caused Maria's initial fear.

Liz hadn't been afraid. Curious, but not afraid. It was similar to the curiousity she now felt about Angel.

"So, are there any other good vampires?" she asked, stuffing her hands in her coat pockets.

"Not that we know of. Most of them are just killers."

"So how do you..." She hesitated.

"Kill 'em?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

She nodded.

"Stakes. Sunlight. Fire. Beheading. Crosses, garlic and holy water will hold them off, but it won't kill them."

"Beheading?" Liz shuddered. "Do they all turn to dust?"

"Most of them." A dark expression crossed his face for a second and then disappeared.

She wondered what that had been about. "So...is there anything else that I should know about?"

"Vampires can't enter a house or apartment without being invited. We have no reflection, but we've got excellent hearing."

Liz absorbed the information, though she personally hoped she never had to make use of any of it.

"So what about you?"

She started. "What do you mean?"

Angel stopped on the sidewalk and turned to face her. "Liz, I'm going to be honest with you. I can't help you unless you tell me what you know."

She sighed and stared at the ground. "I can't. It's not that I don't trust you. It's just...incredibly, incredibly complicated. And it involves other people besides me." Liz raised her eyes to meet his. "And to be honest...I'm not sure I can be helped," she told him quietly.

They resumed walking in silence for awhile.

"Did you run away?"

Liz hesitated. "Sort of, but not exactly. I had my parents' permission to come to L.A."

"But you're here because you're running from something?"

"Someone," she whispered.

Angel looked at her curiously.

"I sort of...had to end a really intense relationship and I needed to get away for awhile."

"I think that's becoming a trend," he commented.

She didn't ask what he meant. They stopped in front of a Chinese take-out place. Angel held the door open for her and they walked inside. "Cordelia wanted Chinese food," he told her.

Liz smiled and wondered if the vampire with a soul had more than friendly feelings for her new friend Cordelia.

"We don't know for sure that it was her."

"We don't know for sure that it wasn't."

Liz frowned, hearing voices coming from a few people in line behind them. It sounded an awful lot like...

No, it couldn't be.

"She could be out there--anywhere--alone and hurt," the male voice was saying.

But it certainly sounded like...

Liz turned around and looked at the line behind her. Her eyes widened. "Alex!"

He looked up, startled to hear his name. They both got out of line and walked towards each other. "Liz!"

She hugged him tightly. "What are you doing here?" she asked with a laugh.

"Looking for you." He lowered his voice. "Michael had a flash. He said you were in danger."

The smile immediately left her face. "And now so are you."

Alex shook his head. "I came with protection," he informed her, draping his arm around Isabel's shoulders.

"Hi," Isabel said, smiling a bit.

Liz smiled back tentatively. She wasn't sure where she stood with Isabel since she hadn't spoken to her since the day she walked away from Max.

"Glad you're okay." Isabel looked past Liz to someone standing behind her.

She nodded. It was then that Liz remembered she wasn't alone. She turned to see that Angel had gotten out of line, and was waiting patiently to be introduced. "Alex, Isabel, this is Angel. Angel, this is Alex Whitman and Isabel Evans."

"Nice to meet you," Angel said, shaking both their hands.

Isabel stared at Angel for a moment and then smiled. "Nice to meet you, too."

"Alex and Isabel came looking for me," she explained to him.

He nodded. "Why don't we get take-out and go back to Cordy's?" Angel suggested.

"Sounds good," Liz agreed.

"Who's Cordy?" Alex whispered as Angel returned to the line.

"For that matter, who's Angel?" Isabel added, raising an eyebrow.

Liz smiled.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cordelia swallowed two aspirin and washed her glass. Her ribs were aching terribly, and she wondered if maybe she should have stayed in the hospital for a day or two, if for no other reason than to get decent pain killers.

She heard the door open and she pasted a smile on her face as she walked into the living room. Angel walked into the living room, followed by Liz, another girl her age, and a boy.

Cordelia's eyes widened. "Who are you and where did you find those shoes?" she asked, zeroing in on the girl.

Liz grinned. "Isabel, this is Cordelia Chase. Cordelia, these are my friends Isabel Evans and Alex Whitman."

"Hi," Isabel said, smiling. "And I got these shoes in a little vanity store in Albequerque, New Mexico."

"Hey, Angel, I don't suppose you, me and Wes could take a little vacation to New Mex--" She stopped when she saw the look he was giving her and she sighed. "Right. Nevermind."

Alex looked at Isabel. "You should call Maria and tell her we found Liz."

Liz stared at him. "Maria's here?"

"Yeah, and so are Michael and..." His voice trailed off at the look on her face.

"Max," she finished softly.

Alex nodded.

Cordelia took note of the sadness in Liz's eyes and decided it was time to change the subject. "So, where's dinner?"

Angel handed her a bag. "Where's Wesley?"

"I'm here." Wesley walked into the open apartment. "Went home to change and grab a book on demons."

Cordelia gave him a look, and he shrugged. She turned to see Alex and Isabel's reactions, but to her curiosity, they were unreadable.

Hmm.

Before she could say anything, her telephone rang. She quickly picked it up. "Hello?"

"Cordelia? It's Kate Lockley."

"Okay." She waited.

"We've arrested the hit and run driver. The fingerprints match, but I'd still like for Liz to come down and see if she recognizes him." There was hesitation in the detective's voice. "Is she there?"

"Yeah, she's here. Hold on a sec." Cordelia covered the mouth piece on the phone. "They've arrested the hit-and-run driver. Liz, Kate wants to know if you'll come down to the station and make an I.D."

"Yeah, of course," Liz agreed, her eyes wide.

Cordelia placed the phone to her ear again. "We'll be there soon."

"Hit and run? You were injured?" Alex asked, staring at Liz.

"No, Cordelia was. She threw me out of the way."

Cordelia hung up the phone. "Okay, let's go." She headed for the door.

Angel stepped in her path. "I think you should stay here with Wesley."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Excuse me? I was the one who got hurt here."

"Which is exactly why you should stay here. Look," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Whoever was driving that car wasn't after you, but if you go down there, he'll be more likely to come after you if he gets out."

Cordelia frowned. "If Wolfram and Hart are involved, he's going to know who I am, anyway, right?"

"Cordelia, please."

She sighed, and wondered why it was that she gave in to him so easily. "Fine. I'll stay. But I'm *not* happy about it."

"Thank you. Wesley, stay here with Cordy. I'll drive Liz, Alex and Isabel to the police station. I'll call when there's news, okay?"

A sudden unexplicable fear washed over her. "Angel, wait."

He turned to face her.

Cordelia bit her lip, unsure of why she'd called him back, unsure of why she had such a feeling of certainty that she may never see him again.

Concern clouded his dark eyes as he gazed back at her. "What is it? Are you okay?"

She nodded, though she really wasn't. "Just...be careful." She was glad to hear her voice sounded more steady than she felt.

"We will. We'll be back soon," he promised. He glanced past her to Wesley, who nodded, some unspoken message passing between them.

Cordelia felt the wave of dread pass over her again, but she bit her lip and stood up straight as she watched him and Liz and Liz's friends walk out the door.

She suddenly wondered if it would be the last time she ever saw Angel leaving her apartment.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maria sat on the flower box seat outside a row of shops on Main Street, waiting for Michael to return. He had gone somewhere nearby to get something to eat. For once, she was glad for a minute to herself. The sun had set about a half-hour ago and the moon was starting to rise.

Maria massaged te back of her neck, trying to ease away some of the day's tension. She wished she'd brought some of her cedar oil with her, but they had left Roswell in such a hurry that she hadn't had time to stop by her house and grab any. She was just glad her mother was out of town at a small-business owner's expo and she hadn't had to explain why she had to go to L.A.

"Here." Michael thrust a hamburger wrapped in paper at her.

She waved it away. "I'm not hungry. You eat it."

"I already had one."

"So?" she retorted.

"So, I didn't even enjoy the first one. They didn't have any Tabasco Sauce."

Maria rolled her eyes and reluctantly accepted the burger from him. She took a couple bites of it, grimacing at the blandness and then wrapping the packaging around it again.

"You should eat."

"I told you I wasn't hungry."

"You need food or you'll end up passing out."

"What are you? My nutritionist? Just leave it alone, okay? God, what do you care anyway?" Maria stood up. "Let's just look for Liz some more. We only have an hour and a half before we meet up with the others."

Michael sighed and followed her down the sidewalk. "Maybe they already found her."

"And maybe they haven't." She stopped walking and turned to face him. "Look, Michael. I know that you don't really want to be here, especially with me. And I know that Liz is not your favorite person in the world. But she is my best friend, and if anything happens to her--" Her voice broke.

Maria turned away, trying to get control over her emotions. The last thing she wanted to do was have a nervous breakdown in the middle of Main Street, L.A., in front of her ex-boyfriend.

Michael moved so they were standing face-to-face again. Without so much as a sarcastic remark, he put his arms around her and pulled her close. "Maria, we're going to find her. And she's going to be okay, I promise," he said quietly as she buried her face in his shoulder, allowing herself to take comfort in his embrace.

God, how she'd missed this...just being in his arms, feeling the warmth of his body next to hers. She couldn't hardly remember the last time they'd been like this.

He didn't let her go and she didn't pull away. She needed to be right there at that moment. She just prayed that they would find Liz safe, and that maybe Michael wouldn't push her away once they did.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cordelia was afraid.

But she wasn't showing it. Not that there was anyone around to show it to. Wesley had gone to the guest room to take a nap.

That left her alone to try and block her thoughts.

She had ruled out television. Maybe it was because she'd been spending a little too much time with Angel and Wesley, but she just didn't find t.v. to be quite as distracting as it used to be.

So she found herself in the kitchen, cooking.

Yes. She, Cordelia Chase, former Sunnydale May-Queen, was so nervous she'd been forced into the kitchen.

She concentrated on slicing a tomato into thin slices, then chopping those slices into small pieces and dumping them into a bowl. When she'd cut up all three tomatos she had in her refrigerator, she moved onto the two green peppers she had removed from the vegetable drawer. Then she shredded lettuce. She combined the three veggies, then stuck the bowl in the fridge for a dinner salad.

"Okay, now what, Dennis?" she asked as she started pacing the floor again.

A box of brownie mix floated out of the cabinet. She caught it. "I don't remember buying this. Maybe Wesley bought it." She frowned, and wondered if he had expected *her* to make brownies for him. "Do I look like Betty Crocker?" Then she sighed. "Okay, brownies it is then." She scanned the instructions. "All right, help me out here, Dennis. Two eggs, a cup of milk..."

There was a knock on the door.

Cordelia frowned and set down the brownie mix box on her kitchen counter. The eggs that were floating towards her abruptly dropped and splattered on the floor.

"Dennis!" she cried.

The knock came again.

"Great," she muttered as she walked out into her living room and over to the front door. "Who is it?"

"Cordelia, it's me," she heard Angel say.

She unlocked the door and started to open it, when it promptly slammed shut again and locked. Cordelia paused. The last time that Dennis had done that, he'd been trying to protect her and Wesley from Sunnydale's rogue slayer, Faith, who had broken in with the intent on hurting them to get to Angel.

Cordelia looked out the peep hole. Sure enough, Angel was standing there impatiently. She opened the door and it slammed shut again. "Phantom Dennis, it's only Angel," she said in exasperation. She tried again, and this time the door opened. "Sorry. Dennis is being temperamental."

"Ah." Angel stepped inside and closed the door.

"So, how'd it go? Where's Liz? And her friends?" she asked as she turned and headed back to the kitchen.

He followed her. "I took her to meet her other friends. They're on their way back to Roswell."

"You let her leave? Without knowing what's after her? Or why?" Cordelia glanced at him and he shrugged.

"She wanted to go. I couldn't stop her." He leaned against the doorway.

She felt a tug of disappointment at the back of her mind. She'd finally made a female friend and now she'd probably never see her again. She hadn't even gotten to say goodbye. She bit her lip and grabbed the dish rag out of the kitchen sink to clean up the splattered eggs. "So what happened at the police station? Was Liz able to I.D. him? Who was he?"

"Yeah, she I.D.'d him."

Cordelia looked up to see amusement in his eyes. Okay, this is weird, she thought. "Who was it? Someone we know?"

"Well, someone I know. But don't worry. You'll never meet him. It's all been taken care of."

She tore her eyes away from his, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling. He's taking the word cryptic to new heights tonight, she mused. She started mopping up the floor with the rag, the egg yolks turning it yellow.

Why didn't he use his key? she wondered suddenly, the thought causing her to frown as she stood up and washed out the dish rag. She knelt down again, soaking up the remaining yolk.

"Hey, Angel," she said casually.

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't you use your key?"

"I lost it," he said instantly.

It was a plausible answer--it really was. A lot of people lost their keys all the time. Angel was *so* not one of those people.

"Again?" she asked, keeping her voice light.

"It happens."

She narrowed her eyes. Angel had *never* lost the key to her apartment. He was lying to her. But why?

Cordelia finished wiping up her kitchen floor, and smiled when she saw her and Angel's reflections in the linoleum.

Then she froze.

Her heart began to pound wildly in her chest. She didn't know how it was possible, but the man standing behind her was most definitely *not* Angel. She thought quickly.

Shape-shifting demon of some kind. She tried to remember any tid-bit of information she could on how to kill one, but she wasn't sure she'd ever read anything on them period.

Stay calm, she told herself. I've been in lots of dangerous situations and gotten out okay. I just have to stay calm. As long as he doesn't know that I know he's not really Angel, I should be safe. Otherwise he would have killed me already.

Not a happy thought.

"Cordelia? You okay?" His voice was calm, but had an unmistakable edge to it.

"Yeah. It's just...my ribs are sore," she said, only partially lying. Her ribs were sore, but she was so much more than not okay. She stood up slowly and moved over to the sink again. She dumped the rag into the dish water, racking her mind, trying to come up with some piece of information she could use later. "So, you remember that Doyle's visiting this weekend, right? You, me, him and Wes are supposed to meet here on Saturday?"

"Uh, yeah. I remember."

"Good." She took a deep breath. Now came the acting part. She prayed she'd improved in the last few months. Cordelia lifted her gaze to the window and stared at his reflection. She gasped.

"What?" he asked.

She spun around to face him, her eyes wide. "You're not Angel."

"Of course I am."

Cordelia pointed to the window. "Since when do vampires have reflections?" she demanded.

His eyes narrowed and he moved toward her.

"Wesley!" she screamed. She backed up against the counter and fumbled around, searching for the knife she'd been using. She finally managed to grasp it in her hand and she held it out in front of her threateningly.

The shape-shifter laughed. "You can't kill me with that."

"Maybe not, but it's not going to stop me from trying!" she snapped. She lunged forward and stabbed him in the shoulder.

He barely grimaced.

Cordelia watched in shock as he yanked the knife out of this shoulder blade. The wound healed instantly. No demon she'd ever researched had *that* ability.

"Cordelia? What's the matter?" Wesley stumbled into the kitchen entrance sleepily. "Angel, you're back."

"It's not Angel!" Cordelia said shakily.

"What?" the former-Watcher asked in confusion.

The shape-shifter smiled at him. "Hey, Wes. What's up?"

Wesley looked from him to Cordelia, his eyes wary. "What's going on?"

"Don't worry. I just came here for Cordelia," he informed the other man.

"Like hell!" she snapped. She grabbed a can of soup out of the cabinet and hurled it at him.

The shape-shifter stumbled backwards as the can hit him in the chest. Another can hit him in the head, courtesy of Dennis. He straightened up and glared at Cordelia. "I guess we do this the hard way." He turned to Wesley, who was moving towards him and wielding an axe, and the shape-shifter held out his hand. A beam of red light shot from his palm and Wesley was thrown across the living room. He landed on the floor with a sickening thud.

"Wesley!" Cordelia cried. She tried to go to him, but the shape-shifter reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Let me go!" She tried to swing around and kick him, but her jerked her arm behind her back roughly and pulled her up against him.

"Say goodnight," he whispered, his breath warm in her ear.

She shuddered as he touched her face. White hot pain ripped through her body and she knew she only had a few seconds of consciousness left. Her last thoughts were of Angel and Wesley. She prayed that Angel would return in time to save Wesley, and that she got to see them both once more before she died.

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