The first indication Methos had that the calvary had arrived was the familiar tingling buzz sweeping through his mind. Cassandra continued to stare at the wall, determined to ignore it. She must still be pissed with MacLeod as well. The lady lawyer and her remaining demon goon gave no indiction that they sensed anyone new in the warehouse. The red-horned demon had been sent out to check the perimeter to prevent any interruptions. Methos hoped that MacLeod avoided it, if in fact their visitor was his friend.

"You still haven't told me your proposition." Methos smiled charmingly and leaned back in the hard chair. The shock of seeing actual demons after five thousand years on this earth had given his opponents an advantage and they had managed to unarm him. At least, they had taken his broadsword away, they hadn't found the various other weapons he kept on his person. All he needed was an opportunity and this bitch's attraction to him was perfect.

"I'm glad to see you've decided to be reasonable." Lilah smiled back. She opened her briefcase and pulled out a file. "I knew as soon as Cassandra told us about you that you were the man for the job, Methos. She says you're a heartless, cruel monster who delights in the torture of others."

The description had been partially true at one point in his life. He had done many cruel and heartless things, but he had never been delighted by them. He had reveled in the adrenalin rush of a raid and the comradery of riding with the Horsemen, but he had never killed for pleasure. He had earned the title of Death by the way he had cooly dispatched anyone who got in his way. It was always quick and clean. Torture had been necessary only under certain circumstances.

When Methos didn't comment, a shadow of doubt shivered down Lilah's spine. She couldn't afford to be wrong about this guy. "Before we get into the details, I need assurances that you are who I think you are."

"Do you want to know my social security number? Date of birth? Mailing address?" Methos stood up casually and clasped his hands behind his back. The demon guard growled at him, but made no move in his direction. He couldn't resist lifting an eyebrow and smirking at the creature.

"I want you to kill her." Lilah inclined her head toward Cassandra. "It shouldn't be too much of a hardship, she seems to want you dead badly enough."

"I would need my sword for that." This woman really couldn't be stupid enough to give him back his weapon, but then again she did give out an air of over confidence. He hope MacLeod waited to make his move until she did make her mistake.

Lilah picked up the broadsword, holding it clumsily and obviously off put by its weight. She handed it off to the demon. "No, actually, you don't. Your ex-slave girl was the subject of one of my law firm's experiments. She's been rendered mortal." She reached out and toyed with the wavy strands of Cassandra's hair before giving her a hard shove toward Methos. "A simple snap of the neck should do."

It was true. Now Methos' mind grasped the details it had assumed were present because of his familiarity with Cassandra. He hadn't known of her presence until he had turned around, the hum that ordinarily alerted him to another Immortal hadn't been present. She hadn't sensed it when MacLeod entered the warehouse. She relied on a demon-pandering law firm to kill him. Cassandra trembled in Methos' grasp and he looked at her. Fear dominated her expression, but the bitterness and hate still lurked beneath. She would never give that up. "You might as well kill me. I won't be a willing slave to Death again."

Just like she would never let go of her opinion of his character. And as long as she persisted in being stubborn, then he might as well take advantage of it. Methos lightly caressed the hollow of Cassandra's throat. "Are you certain? I seem to remember that you found some aspects of our association to be quite pleasurable." He regretted the self-loathing that twisted Cassandra's lips. Crushing her self-esteem was better than snapping her neck though and it would buy MacLeod some time to make his move. "It might be more fun to take up your challenge instead of killing you."

"Well, you don't have a choice." Lilah snapped, annoyed that her attractiveness was eclipsed by another female. "I want you to kill her. If you don't, you can join her in mortality."

"So, it's not a one shot deal?" This was not good. The only real enemies Immortals had were other Immortals playing the Game and possibly a rogue Watcher or two. This was a new game with new players and Methos doubted very much that these Wolfram and Hart lawyers knew about honor and fair play, let alone practiced it. Not even hold ground would be safe.

"My firm believes in long term planning. We know everything about your race and the Game." Lilah smiled pleasantly. "If you become an ally then perhaps I can share our information with you. It might be valuable in attaining the position of The One. As will the task I'm assigning to you."

"We've only just met and already you're designating yourself my superior?" Methos' eyebrow raised in derision. He didn't want to play nice with this bitch - and he wasn't altogether sure that she would want him to - but he needed to know how much her law firm really knew about Immortals and how to destroy it. He needed to gain her trust and he hoped that MacLeod realized that before coming to their rescue. "You'll find that I don't kowtow that easily, Ms. Morgan."

"Lilah. And I wouldn't expect you to, but you are an intelligent man. Snap her neck."

Damn it! The bitch wasn't going to give anything up until he had 'proven' himself. Methos' hand tightened around Cassandra's neck. If MacLeod timed it so he interrupted him then he might be able to salvage a relationship with the Morgan bitch. It wouldn't be difficult to convince Cassandra of any evil intent on his part and that she had been saved by the Scotsman.

"Mistress," the red demon, the one sent to check around outside, growled. "I caught an intruder on the premises."

"So, you want a medal?" Lilah frowned and spun around. The moronic demon had interrupted her fun. She wanted Death to kill for her. Her glare transformed into a predatory gleam once she caught sight of the prisoner. "And you might get one." The Immortals were forgotten for the moment. Lilah's heels clicked with deliberate steps toward the demon and his charge. She tilted her head to the side and looked the red head up and down. She had never seen the girl up close before - Angel had been careful to keep her as far from Wolfram and Hart as possible - and she wasn't impressed. Meek, fragile, and a whimpering mess. Not the type Lilah would have thought Angel would be interested in. Of course, there was the magic. "Angel's pretty little witch. What are you doing out here all alone?"

"I'm young. I was looking for a party." Willow scanned the room. Her eyes narrowed on a man and a woman standing beside each other a few feet away. The man had his arm slung casually over the woman's shoulders, but it didn't look as friendly as it was supposed to. The blue demon hovering behind them didn't help the impression either. "Guess I found one, huh?"

"I've changed my mind." Lilah looked back at Methos and Cassandra. "That one can wait, since you seem so attached to her. Kill this girl instead and do it in the bloodiest, most painful way possible." She grabbed Willow roughly by the arm and dragged her toward Methos. She nodded at the blue demon to give Methos his broadsword.

Once the familiar weight was in his hands, Methos had to restrain himself from lashing out at the bitch lawyer and her mongrel demon guards. He didn't know who the little red head was, but she had made some formidable enemies in her young life. "If you insist...." Methos brought his sword up. Lilah still held on to the girl's arm with a punishing grip, she obviously wanted a front row seat. He hoped MacLeod was ready and in sync with him.

A loud Scottish war cry bellowed throughout the warehouse. Methos rolled his eyes. A bit dramatic, but it did the trick of drawing everyone else's attention. MacLeod may have been able to handle one demon, but Methos doubted he could take on two. There would be another way to find out how much Wolfram and Hart knew and what they wanted. His pretense of evil shot, Methos joined the fray. He got some satisfaction from knocking the bitch lawyer out of his way as he attacked the red demon. Her precious file hit the concrete and papers scattered everywhere.

MacLeod was out of his depth. He had fought in many wars, had battled evil in many different forms, but he had never seen a creature such as this one. Its blue skin gleamed and its tusks dripped with saliva. The sound of Methos' broadsword swishing through the air behind him was a comfort. At least he wasn't in this madness alone. MacLeod's katana sliced cleanly through the demon's arm. A gush of dark navy slime spewed from the stump. MacLeod lunged for a killing thrust and stepped into a puddle of the slippery, viscous goo. He lost his balance and unable to stop himself, he fell directly onto the gleaming tusk of the writhing demon. It sank into his shoulder, tearing the muscle and ligaments in its journey, stopping only when it hit bone. His samurai sword clattered to the floor. The sharp pain quickly became agonizing when the demon ripped its tusk back out and MacLeod fell to the floor next to his fallen katana.

For a few moments, the demon slathered over him, its beady red eyes glaring at him. Then its attention turned to another target. MacLeod rolled his head in time to see Methos lop off one of the red demon's horns. A burst of black soot issued from it and swirled around the howling creature. It combusted in a storm of roaring dust. The blue demon lowered its head and charged Methos' unprotected back, its tusk still red with MacLeod's blood. A small figure darted between Methos and the charging demon. "No!" MacLeod gasped. He didn't have enough breath to yell out more and stop the girl from sacrificing herself in vain.

*****

The covered convertible squealed around the corner, hitting the curb with a thump and grating crunch of metal on concrete. Cordelia tightened her grip on the steering wheel and glanced over at Angel. As soon as the sun had set, Angel had removed the blanket he had been huddling under in the backseat and jumped into the front. He was staring straight ahead. He didn't say one word about her erratic driving. God, she hoped Willow was okay. Only in their stupid life could a beautiful old necklace turn out to be a prophecy of evil. She should have thought of that, but no, she had been too wrapped up in playing matchmaker for her friends. Now Willow was in danger.

Cordelia slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to an abrupt halt and throwing Angel up against the dash and Cordelia into the steering wheel. "Cordelia," Angel growled. He picked himself off the floor and rubbed at the knot forming on his forehead. "Lorne's warehouse is farther down the pier." He looked toward his Seer when he didn't get an answer and the car remained still. Cordelia's head reared back from the steering wheel and hit the driver's side window with a sickening crack. Red blood seeped into the spider web forming in the glass. Her hands raised up in a protective gesture over her head and her fists clenched and unclenched spastically. Angel slid closer to her. "Cordelia, it's okay. I'm here. You're not alone. It's okay."

The soothing tone of Angel's voice helped quell the rising panic within Cordelia. She always lost herself in the vision. The terror, the pain, the need to escape - they all consumed her until something or someone pulled her away. "Willow." Cordelia fumbled with the door handle and stumbled out onto the street.

"What about Willow?" Angel followed Cordelia out of the car. He caught her as her steps faltered and she leaned back into him. Concern for both Cordelia and Willow warred with his rage over being totally helpless. He couldn't help Cordelia with the pain and emotional turmoil the visions caused and Willow was in danger somewhere.

"That's it. She's in that warehouse." Cordelia pointed across the street. She stood up and straight and gave Angel a reassuring smile. "They all look the same, but I know that's the one from my vision."

"Okay." Angel led the way to the warehouse. He trusted Cordelia's interpretation of her visions. If she said Willow was in that warehouse and not Lorne's, then that's where she was. A side door down the alley was slightly ajar and Angel and Cordelia reached it, a thunderous bellow came from inside.

Heartbeats, quick and statitco, mixed in with the shuffling scuffle of feet and the muted thumps of a fight, all led Angel toward whoever was in the warehouse. He quickly and cautiously made his way through the back hallway where the offices were located until he reached the entrance to the main storage area. The pungent stink of demon blood assaulted his nose and it was soon joined by the sweeter copper scent of human blood.

"What's going on?" Cordelia whispered from behind him. "There was a fight in my vision. Willow was there too."

"Then we're in the right place." A blur of red hair rushed between a demon and a man. Angel shot forward.

Time stopped. A part of Angel's mind processed the events as they happened, but the rest of him closed down. He was still moving forward. The blue tusked demon charged at the back of a stranger holding a broadsword. The man whipped around, but it was too late. Willow darted between them. The red tinged tusk pierced just below her breastbone. Her body was pushed up and back from the force of the blow. The man behind her caught her. Angel felt his ridges form and he snarled. He was still moving forward.

The next thing Angel heard was the crack of the demon's neck as he separated it from its shoulders and tossed the body into the wall. The man backed away. He still had Willow in his arms. A rational whisper in Angel's soul recognized that the man was trying to protect Willow and that was the only thing that saved him from the same fate as the demon. It didn't stop Angel from baring his fangs and snarling. His yellow eyes narrowed on the stranger. He was impressed when the man didn't look away or cower. He was no coward. "Let her go."

"You heard him." The sharp point of the arrow notched in the crossbow Cordelia was holding dug into the man's neck. Cordelia stood at the man's side. "Just let her go and back up slowly. I know it doesn't look that way, but he won't hurt her."

The man released Willow and Angel lunged forward and caught her. He lowered her gently to the cold concrete. "Willow." Her green eyes were open and looking at him, but they were unfocused. Blood trickled from her mouth and nose. She was dying. Angel was vaguely aware of Cordelia ushering the man over to his fallen friend. "Willow. This is going to hurt." Angel caressed her hair in a soothing gesture. He hoped he was lying and that the shock had set in enough that she wouldn't feel anything.

The head of the demon was still planted in Willow's midsection. The demon's tusk had been wickedly curved, it would cause as much damage being removed as it had going in. Willow clutched onto one of Angel's hands and nodded slightly. A wet, sucking sound accompanied the removal of the tusk and it was followed by the warm rush of Willow's blood pouring out of the wound. The smell that he usually associated with the passion, lust, and love he had for this woman now made Angel gag. Her black t-shirt was soaked with her blood.

"Willow." Cordelia knelt beside Angel. She put her hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. We're both here." She wiped at the tears in her eyes. "We'll be okay. You just hurry up and get this over with."

Willow nodded again. She opened her mouth, but only a gurgly gasp escaped. She squeezed Angel's hand harder, but all to quickly her grasp weakened and her hand went limp. Her eyes didn't close, they stayed fixed on his as the light in them died.

Methos watched the scene before him with complete and utter fascination. MacLeod stood beside him, holding his healing shoulder. The uneven clomping shuffle of Joe's cane and artificial legs announced his presence. "What happened?" I saw two people rush in here and I decided to follow."

"You won't believe it." Methos pointed at the girl laying on the ground in a pool of her own blood. "That girl saved my life. A demon tried to kill me."

Joe frowned at Methos. The old guy was talking nonsense again, damn his sense of humor. He turned to MacLeod and inclined his head toward the people he followed into the warehouse. "Who are they?"

"He's a vampire," Cassandra answered instead of MacLeod. "I heard Lilah Morgan talking about him. He has a soul."

"He also has fangs and a hell of a throwing arm," Methos quipped. The vampire with a soul cradled the dead body of the girl close to him.

"Angel." The girl who had threatened him with the crossbow fussed over the dead body, brushing her hair from her neck and feeling for a pulse. "This is taking too long. It hasn't taken this long before. Why isn't she alive?"

Shock. Methos shook his head sadly. He wished he had been able to warn the girl that the demon couldn't kill him. Her friends were obviously shocked and distraught over her death. Methos frowned and squinted at a dull golden glow emanating from between the vampire and the dead girl. Suddenly, she convulsed in his arms, taking deep gaspy breaths and coughing. Her eyes blinked closed and then opened again.

"Hey, you didn't say she was one of you," Joe accused. He was already thinking about contacting the Council and who to assign as the girl's Watcher.

Methos and MacLeod stared at each other. Neither had felt the vibrating pulse of an Immortal or the duller tingle of a pre-Immortal. "She's not," MacLeod answered Joe.

The girl sat up with the help of her friends. She smiled weakly at them. "Yes, but she does a hell of an impression." Methos' mouth went dry. It was old and tarnished, but unmistakable. Hanging from the girl's neck was the Heart. Aunwyn's heart.

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