Title: Keep Me Cold
Author: Crazy_Girl_Mary
Email: crazy_girl_mary@yahoo.com
Feedback: It's a beautiful thing! So email me already damnit!
Disclaimer: They’re all Joss’ and probably some other people but hey I’m a rebel so I play if I want damn it!
Summary: Sequel to Hot to Cold. Faith has turned against the Scoobies and after giving into Angelus he made her a vampire. They obtained the list of Potential Slayers and slaughter will begin but sooner or later they'll end up in Sunnydale. This fic coincides with The First problem on Buffy so I guess it's an Alternate Universe. Uncomplete! I'll be posting new sections as I write them.
Pairings: Faith/Angelus so far.
Category: angst and suspense I suppose.
Spoilers: Spoilers for the episodes where The First is in Sunnydale. No Angel spoilers. Sorry people I don't know the episodes so just read it.
Rating: NC-17 for graphic torture and sexuality.
Author’s Comments: Hey guys! Check me out! I'm so on top of that request for the sequel! This fic is dedicated to Jezzie who supported me, and told me the things I needed to hear and pushed me to make a sequel. I’m having a ball writing it and I don’t know that I would’ve without her requests. Also thank you for all the feedback and requests. When people email me and tell me how I really can grasp the character of Angelus or describe the way his eyes roam over a tortured body makes me feel like I might just be doing this right and I may just have a grip on this whole writing thing. Also thanks in advance to anyone who may feel the urge to email me because I suck. Please do! I love it. I wanna know why I suck or what sucks.

Buffy gestured for Angelus to enter the Mansion ahead of her and he smiled before doing so. “What’s the matter Buff? Afraid to turn your back on me?” he asked.

She didn’t reply, didn’t know if she had the strength to validate him. It was all just so much shit piled on top of her, like always but multiplied a few times and then doubled for good measure. So much to worry about, so many sleepless nights, still no solution, only more problems. She focused her eyes on the enemy before her, he had once been the worst enemy she could imagine, and while still quite formidable he was now ranking somewhere in the middle. “Where is he?” she asked lightly.

He smiled and she didn’t even feel a pang of lust and heartbreak at that beautiful yet mocking evil smile the way she used to, just hatred. She was virtually numb. “All business/no fun Slayer? That’s a new you. When all else fails fresh tactics huh?”

She frowned and he quickly mirrored her expression. “Come on Buff! Don’t you wanna play first? Make this exchange worth my while?”

“No, I wanna kill your girlfriend.” She turned her back on him now, and walked towards the front door with reckless yet poignant speed. She wasn’t surprised when he appeared before her, leaning against the door and blocking her exit.

“Okay Slayer,” he said, “We’ll play your way, and remember what I said about Sunshine.” He licked his lips sensually afterwards with that expression that could drive any woman to hot sweats and dream sequences.

“I’ll make you wish I could forget,” Buffy said in a sad tone that didn’t diminish her threat. He just smiled in that way that conveyed given the chance he would go after Dawn anyway.

“He’s downstairs,” Angelus said before turning and heading towards the stairs. The shackles on the wall where she had been chained hung so ghostly and she could still feel them around her arms. The room still felt hot and her blood had seeped into the concrete floor to become a forever-lasting reminder of her brutal and exposed defilement.

Buffy diverted her eyes back up to Angelus who was patiently staring at her, waiting for her to continue, either that or looking for her secret emotions. She could only imagine what went on inside a mind like that. She had barely been able to understand Angel‘s thought processes let alone Angelus‘. He looked back into the dark shadows that she knew contained the stairs to the basement where Spike might be. She barely flinched at the image of his naked, beaten, bloody body on the cold concrete floor with Angelus standing over him laughing and taunting. She was numb to those sorts of things, but that didn’t change the feelings that were deep down inside. She had been hiding them for so long they continued to build up. She couldn’t bring them out herself, no longer knew how, but she did know that there was a limit to how much she could put there before she exploded. She had no idea what that would mean. But she did know she didn’t want to go down there into the pitch black darkness leaving her enemy with a definite advantage.

“What’s the matter lover? Afraid of the dark?” he asked with a light chuckle.

“Bring him up here,” she answered quickly.

Angelus frowned, “I don’t think that will be possible,” he started and Buffy felt a shiver run through her body at what this could mean, “you see… he’s not really up for a good walk, or even a step and I’m not likely to carry him up here so you’ll just have to come on down and get him.” With that he turned and walked into the shadows.

“I could just leave, go back to the Magic Box and do what I wanted to do in the first place,” she called after him.

He replied from somewhere deep inside the shadows. “You’d never beat me there, and if I couldn’t find a way to free her, I’d stake her before I let you have her.”

Buffy took a step closer to the door, her eyes adjusting slightly to the darkness she could now make out the beginnings of shadows and edges. “Besides you came here to get your mate, then I get mine, Dawn keeps her snowy little virginity and everyone’s happy, remember?”

Buffy didn’t reply just pulled out a stake and started down the dark stairs. “I knew this evil vampire once, who wasn’t one for making deals, let alone keeping them,” she muttered into the darkness. She didn’t hear a reply she had hoped for, one to signal his whereabouts to her.

Then she felt his body press up against the back of hers. “Sounds like my kinda guy,” he said sarcastically in her ear before licking it briefly and then pushing her away. She slammed roughly against the nearby wall and he was before her in a fraction of a second his hand holding her wrist against the rock wall, pain shooting up her arm from the odd angle.

She could feel the light stir of air on her neck as he inhaled her scent. “Where’s Spike?” she asked calmly, not really caring about her life, it was something she no longer valued, something she kept only to service others, and she barely put effort towards that anymore.

“Oh he’s here,” Angelus answered, “And he can see you and me and everything as clear as day, I made sure of that.”

“You said I was something easily obtained and if you wanted me you would just take me, isn’t that right?” she asked.

He nodded into her neck and she pushed her body forward pushing him off of her and back out of her sight range. “Then take me,” she challenged gaining her stance and holding up her stake, her wrist and arm still slightly throbbing.

She heard a brief cackle from somewhere inside the darkness then a match lit the room in a faint glow and she couldn’t keep from blinking in surprise. He pulled the match to the cigarette between his lips, which were forming that signature smirk that she couldn’t possibly hate more given eternity to try. His shadow was illuminated as he turned around to light a lamp on the wall behind him.

Buffy looked briefly around the room for Spike before her enemy had the chance to turn around and possibly catch her off guard. She gasped as her eyes fell upon Spike’s battered form on the far wall. She started towards him but Angelus gently wrapped his arms around her, “Hold it there Slayer.” She felt a single tear already on her lips, “He can wait a second. I was just about to take you up on that taking you offer. Wouldn’t want you to think you had called my bluff sugar.”

She felt a deep shudder run through her body like the beginning of a sob before the whole thing went tense. This was all just too much to endure. She had come here expecting to find what was now before her so why was it bringing her to tears? She didn’t understand any of it. Perhaps the tears were a result of everything. Her anger at herself for trusting Faith, her anger for not killing Angelus when she had the chance, her anger for not doing it now. Perhaps it was also the physical pain still lingering from Faith’s brutal attack, or the emotional pain that would never subside, fuck, she doubted it would ever even flinch from it’s intensity. Now here was her past lover, before the eyes of her present one, running his strong hands sensually down her arms and thighs, beginning to coax her body where she knew all too well it could and most likely would go.

She had used it before to try and burn away her feelings and she would use it again despite the fact that the being who loved her more then anything else in the entire universe was watching through bloody battered eyes. She directed her eyes back to Angelus’. She knew she had to stall him, and she also knew it was terribly wrong, but she was sick of fighting and she’d rather let him have his way with her then fight him.

“Slayer?” he inquired with that honey sweet tone, “You’re not going soft are you?” He pushed his hips roughly against hers and she could feel he was hard for her. “Maybe that was Peaches’ cup of tea, but not nearly mine, I want a girl to work for it. Perhaps you learned a few things from Faith?”

Buffy felt a blush crept up her neck at the sudden rush of lust that ran through her traitorous body at the mention of that name, the body that couldn’t deny the physical happiness that belonged to that word despite the brutal mental torture that accompanied said happiness. Then the earlier portion of his statement hit her. Peaches… Angel; she remembered the plan and she knew she couldn’t possibly let Angelus do what he planned to do to her. That would just tear Angel apart and she knew with all he had to take credit for when he came back anything more would push him over the edge. Despite how strong she always considered him, she knew his emotions would be fragile as it was, without having to claim breaking her heart in the worst way again.

She felt the anger run through her body again, and this time she embraced it. Seeking those deep pent emotions inside of her, where she could barely go to find them, and bringing them up into her darkening eyes and clenching fists. He inhaled another puff from his cigarette before tossing it Spike’s way. In the corner of her thoughts Buffy wondered if he could even tell what was going on, his eyes were open but they seemed distant and he didn’t move or acknowledge her behind the dirty gag in his mouth and the hair matted with blood around his forehead. There was just blood everywhere, a few days worth of blood, more then she had ever seen come from his body.

Angelus was still staring at her and for a moment she felt hope swell in her heart that Willow would be quick with the spell. This was quickly overwhelmed with her hatred and anger for everything in the entire world. “There’s my girl,” he said huskily before he moved towards her a second after her anticipated advance. They collided and her momentum had been strong enough to land him flat on his back but even before they hit the ground she knew it would be more then difficult to keep him there. They both let out a grunt as they landed as one on the thick concrete but she was virtually oblivious to it. She let one hand wrap tightly around his unbuttoned silk collar while the other slammed into his pretty face more times then she could keep track off. She was moving so fast she wasn’t surprised when he didn’t retaliate at first.

Then he managed to kick her off of him, but her hold on his collar was still tight and she planted another firm jab somewhere on his face before he swung her fully off him and stood in a daze. She too took this time to stand and prepare for the expected attack. He flew at her and this time she landed on the floor but wasted no time slamming her knee up into his stomach and pushing him off of her and back onto his back on the floor. She got on top of him again, this time adequately pinning him, then using both fists to pummel his face and chest before his hands managed to come up and wrap tightly around her neck. She felt her face growing red but she didn’t care, she continued to beat on him with all her anger and energy and muscle until everything went red and then black.

Willow stared at Xander blankly. “What do you mean you gave it to Anya?” she asked, hysteria hitching in the back of her voice.

“She saw it downstairs and thought it was really pretty. I told her she could have it, I mean, I didn’t think anchoring Angel’s soul was ever going to be a problem again.” Xander looked down at the ground like a little boy to avoid Willow’s angry glare.

“Well you have to get it back!” Willow yelled.

Xander thought he was going to protest but her eyes looked on the verge of tinting black and he knew where that could end up. He grabbed his coat off of his chair back and put it on. “I’ll go get it now,” he said walking towards the door.

“Hurry up!” Willow screamed, “Buffy is out there with Faith and Angelus and who knows what.”

Xander nodded before breaking into a run and heading out the front door. Anya’s new apartment was across town and it took close to fifteen minutes to get there on a normal Sunnydale night. He prayed tonight was one of those.

These prayers proved unanswered as he pulled out onto the main road to see traffic lined up for blocks, at a dead stand still, and people getting out of their cars to gaze down the street and try to see what was going on. Xander joined them, but was unable to see anything aside from a few flashing lights barely visible far up the road above the roofs of countless cars. “It was a girl got killed!” a man nearby yelled to his companions holding a cell phone close to his ear seemingly struggling to hear among the now countless voices of nearby onlookers.

He felt his heart drop deep in his stomach before he took off in the direction of the flashing lights and sirens, quickly forgetting about his running car with the keys still in the ignition, the thought of The Orb of Thesula and what Anya might have done with it after they broke up still lingering. Then there was the terrible thought in the pit of his stomach of what he might find at the scene.

Buffy opened her eyes slowly. Surprise, surprise, she could already feel the chains before fully waking, didn’t need to open her eyes to know she was trapped yet again. She also wasn’t surprised to see Angelus’ face floating above her. “Faith lied and I was really surprised you didn’t catch it. You couldn’t possibly think I liked my girls to lie still.” She didn’t understand. He held up a small bottle before her. “Of course, that was fine with Kennedy, but it was only because she didn’t know what to do when she was free to move anyway.” He threw the bottle across the wall and it smashed near where Spike had previously been hanging. She was the one hanging now, but where did that leave Spike? She didn’t think she had the courage to wonder and knew she wouldn’t ask.

“But you Buff,” he said running his hand down the furrow between her breasts and down the middle of her stomach “I’m willing to bet you got all the right moves.” Great, she thought, she was fucking naked and chained up to a bloody wall. “All this nonsense with the freezing shit,” he said slowly pressing his body fully up against hers, looking deep into her eyes. “It’s not for me,” he whispered lightly.

She bucked her hips up roughly and used her knees to push him and he staggered back a few steps a satisfied smile lighting his face, “See what I mean.”

She hated him more then she had ever hated anyone in her life. “I personally never got to reap the benefits of those moves so I figured I’d give ya a little test drive before I make a purchase,” he continued. She felt fear swell up in her body at the word ‘purchase’. She had no idea what he meant by that but there were so many terrifying possibilities. He ventured close again, within the reach of her unshackled legs but she didn’t kick him, she wouldn’t until she knew he was close enough for her to hurt him. He was quickly on his knees before her. She didn’t even have time to react and she cried deep inside for not flailing when she had the chance. He had a hand wrapped tightly around each of her ankles and he was holding them like a vice to the wall, she pulled on them weakly but she feared pulling any harder would break them. He leaned his nose in to nuzzle and smell the space between her legs and the sudden and overwhelming physical attraction to this man, so capable of pleasing her, made vomit heave and hitch in the back of her throat. She didn’t know why it hitched. She would’ve liked to throw up on him at that moment.

She didn’t know what to say. For probably the first time in her life, or damn near close to it, she wanted desperately to say something but couldn‘t. She wanted to retort with a smile, to not go so quietly, so gently, but she was empty. He could see this in her eyes as his own roamed over her exposed body, taking in a sight long hidden from his view. She felt one finger tip lightly grazing between her legs, “Whadaya say Buff?” He looked up into her eyes and asked, “Wanna get staked?”

She felt revulsion run through her entire body. He stood up and ran his wet finger down her cheek and she pulled her face roughly away but he just followed her, then tucked her hair away from her neck. “Ill stake you down there,” he said with a smile, “and then…”

She watched as he disappeared across the room, a whistle on his lips, then his form slowly drifted back into her hazy vision holding a frightening weapon in his hands. He ran the tip over her left breast. “And then, I’ll stake you here.”

Xander felt like his heart was going to pound right out of his rib cage and spew red gore all over the front of him by the time his fiery legs finally carried him to the gathering around the flashing lights and police tape. He pushed his way through the crowd until a cop intercepted his hasty entrance to the scene.

“Hold it there son,” the cop said harshly, barricading his view and path, “You can’t enter here.”

“But I have to see who it is!” Xander screamed out, stuttering on his short breath, sweat pouring down his face. He pushed heavily past the cop and into the center of the area, where a body was draped with plastic, bloody foot prints seen coming out from under the curtain and off into the distance. He quickly lifted up the sheet and fell to his knees before the female body. A hand lightly touched his shoulder, “I’m sorry for your loss,” a male voice said behind him.

He looked into the strangers face, he hadn’t known the girl, never even seen her before but it was still horrible to know that Faith had gotten away from them and claimed yet another victim. It also meant that she was out there, and her strength was fully regained. He looked around and was only slightly shocked to see her staring out from the back of the crowd, in the blink of his eyes she was gone and he thought of screaming for help but he knew no normal human could stop her. He quickly pushed past the cop and back through the gathering pedestrians. He didn’t know whether to go all the way back to his car or just continue to Anya’s on foot.

Either way Faith would have plenty of time to catch him. He breathed in deeply before starting to run as fast as he could in the direction of Anya’s apartment. He was a dead man. He knew it, but he wouldn’t give up, he couldn’t give up. His lungs began to burn in his chest again and his heart was pounding again and his legs burned and slighted like they would give out the next time they connected heavily with the ground and tried to spring back up again. But they didn’t give out, they kept right on going, pulling every landing, his mind creating the matching sounds of his enemies feet hitting the sidewalk just yards behind him and closing in. Deep inside he knew it was only his imagination. If Faith was really on his tail her feet would make no sound. These thoughts made him run impossibly faster, his body aching so hard red spots danced before his eyes but he kept going and was surprised as he slammed his way through the doorway into the lobby of Anya’s apartment. He pushed the door closed quickly behind him and looked out onto the empty street. He thought for sure she would jump out of the bushes but it still didn’t happen when his breath finally began to slow. He turned quickly and ran up the staircase and down the hall to Anya’s door. He didn’t think vampires were prohibited from entering the hallway, just the individual living spaces, but he didn’t want to wait for confirmation.

He banged his closed fist heavily on the door, not caring about the neighbors. There was no answer, he felt fear sweep through him then he banged harder and screamed, “Anya! Open up Anya!” more banging then, “It’s me Anya! Open the door!” He banged some more, until people up and down the hall were beginning to peak their heads out and see what all the noise was about, some old ladies shaking their heads at him and reluctantly closing their doors. He didn’t care, he continued to bang praying to some far off God that she was home and would open the door. Then he waited for his prayers to be answered, waited for anything but to see Faith walk up that hallway, anything besides that would be manageable.

Buffy didn’t know how to react to the threats he had slung before he began to pleasure her the way only Spike had ever cared to. He was going to kill her, she couldn’t say that was the worst fate she might find at his hands, after some thought she realized it wasn’t even close to the worst. She had read and reread all about the worst in ancient books Giles had given her, seen it the last time he had emerged and the time before that, and even seen it poorly mimicked by lesser demons. She tried hard to concentrate on anything that wasn’t his mouth between her thighs and the tingling and swirling in the pit of her stomach but it was hard. Her and Spike had played that game, it was all about resilience, how long you could hold out for. She knew she hadn’t been all that good at it, and well neither had he, but they both had skilled lovers to face. She wished she could believe that Angelus wasn’t better, that he wouldn’t make her come eventually, make her scream, but he would, that was his game, and he was good.

Her thoughts of Spike didn’t help her fight off the physical pleasure, but definitely made what was left of her heart ache in her chest because she didn’t know what fate he had met, and whatever it was he met it only because he loved her and had changed. She clenched her eyes tightly shut to block out the sight of the dark dungeon and the dark head but she couldn’t block out anything else. She felt his tongue swirling expertly and his finger tips digging deep into her ass and pulling it towards him further. She heard his lapping tongue and the sounds of the old house as the night wind ran through it, and she heard voices. They were the voices of her family, her friends, the potentials, Spike, all the people she was supposed to be protecting and they were dying, screaming, lecturing. Then she heard Willow’s voice it was faint and she listened intently for what the witch was saying but she couldn’t understand. She grasped onto a last thread of hope that it was the spell and that Angel would be crying before her at any moment. Then she felt ripped back to reality as he bit down on her thigh and sent her tumbling into her first orgasm.

Faith walked up to the open front door of the mansion and looked around. Expecting to see Buffy shackled where she had left her, being played with by a new assailant. Instead she found Spike. He was naked and beaten to a bloody incoherent pulp, hanging from the shackles like a bag of misshapen bones. She walked over and ran her fingers gently over his bloody cheek and he pushed his head a little towards her but that was all the response. She thought about putting him out of his misery but quickly remembered what Angelus had said about his talents in bed and the use it might be to have him around as a sex slave for those lonely nights. She smiled to herself and started towards the basement. That’s when she heard the first moan.

He had started out gently enough. He had stripped before her and unshackled her legs once more to gain better access to her but her body was so weary from hanging they were useless to help her fight him off, just manipulated dead weight. He had put a hand firmly behind each of her knees and lifted them then slowly entered her. She was already wet and ready from his previous attention and the feeling of her moist all around him made it all the more intense an experience. He started to quicken his pace and she could feel her body opening up to his further, pulling on his longer, trying to draw his in. She was emotionless to the act, she didn’t know how to feel dirty or appalled anymore. She just let her body enjoy what he was doing, not like she could fight it, but either way why should she?

She could see it in his eyes when she dared to look; it was the knowledge that he wasn’t getting what he wanted, no pain, no tears, and then it was fury. He became brutal and meeting his thrusts with tired gasps was all she could do to keep from breaking around him. His hands on her thighs were squeezing so hard the pain almost overwhelmed the pleasure. His face portrayed pure hatred as he slammed away, perhaps seeing just how hard he had to go to break her once and for all.

She didn’t know when she had started to let out a small unfortunate and weak yelp with each thrust because she didn’t realize she was doing it until far after she had started. Either way she was too weary to stop, it was enough just to keep going. Their movements were consistent and rough and despite her mindset she felt herself nearing another orgasm and she didn’t try to hold it at bay. Why shouldn’t she get off one last time? She arched her back even more, thrust her hips towards him even further, her yelps became pleas and he smiled at her defeat and his triumph. He released one hand now, no longer fearing she would fight him, she was begging for him to make her come and he wanted to do just that, knowing it would promise his own release. He brought this free hand hastily between their colliding bodies to palm the nearest mound of breast and rub his thumb clumsily over its nipple. He could hear her breath becoming ragged and her clenched eyes gave away that thoughts of everything but the impending pleasure had disappeared from her mind.

Good, he thought, all the better to take her by. He pistoned quicker watching her eyes roll back in her head from the ecstasy. She screamed into her orgasm and her spasms soon brought him over the edge as well. He keep moving quickly in and out still emptying out inside her. He could feel their mixed juices coating her thighs and his hips.

Her eyes shot open in pain as she felt his teeth tear into her throat but her orgasm was only intensifying and he was only moving faster inside her, taking her places even Spike never had. Her skull began to throb in pain and loss of blood and his mouth on her throat was like a vice she couldn’t shake. When she felt him eventually go soft inside her she desperately began to try and buck him off of her but he stayed strong. Then she wrapped her legs tightly around him and pulled him closer causing him to bite even deeper and suck forth her blood even faster. She prayed that he wouldn’t be able to stop. If she was going to die she didn’t want to come back, not again, and not evil.

When he jerked his head away and a confused and angry expression lit his face seconds before he ripped away from her grip and threw himself to the floor screaming it took her a few seconds to realize what was happening. She felt her hot blood pumping dully inside her body and felt it run down her neck and chest but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except that the being writhing and screaming in agony continue to do so.

Faith had watched the show since she had arrived. Taking pleasure in the fact that she was watching his sexual torture of the Slayer the way he had watched hers. He was eliciting far more emotions and responses then she had although he hadn’t really ruined her body beforehand. She leaned against the wall wondering if her presence was known. The Slayer’s screams and the rapid movement of her lover’s body was making her panties soak. Her body had been still for days and the first thing she wanted to do was use it with her lover, well maybe after drinking the Slayer dry. It would be a shame not keeping the Slayer around, after all she was a firecracker during sex and Faith had always thought somewhere inside her mainly kill Buffy gauged brain that the three of them could take down the world together either that or each other. Angelus would use the competition between Faith and Buffy to his advantage. It would never work but the theory was nice. It didn’t matter now, she just wanted her mate, she wanted things to be the way the were before, traveling around, destroying cities and families, when they were together and concerned only with each other.

When Angelus sunk his teeth into the Slayer’s neck she slowly began to descend the stairs to join him in his delicious meal. She was only a few yards away when he threw himself violently to the floor, gripping his skull and curling into a ball. She could see that this intense pain was like nothing she had ever seen him experience or doubtfully ever experienced herself. Her eyes went up and met the dazed orbs of her mortal enemy whose were lit with inner knowledge, lips forming a smug smile.

“No,” Faith said grabbing Angelus’s upper arm and pulling him to his feet. “No!”

He shuddered in her hand and fell back to the floor. Faith grabbed the discarded stake from the floor and raised it. “I’ll fucking kill him you little bitch, I’ll kill him before I let him change!”

She ran quickly across the room and wrapped one hand around Buffy’s throat. “And you too!” She raised the stake and aimed it for the Slayer’s heart, where her lover had planned to strike. The stake stopped in inch from the naked heaving chest and Faith looked up in shock at Angel standing beside her. He looked animalistic and he squeezed her wrist roughly until she thought it might pop then he swung it back and the stake flung from her grasp. She swung her free hand at his face but he easily caught it and pushed her roughly back across the room. “Get out!” he screamed.

She felt anger and desperation fill every fiber of her being. She knew she wouldn’t defeat them tonight. “This isn’t over,” she threatened, managing an evil smirk. That was enough of a threat, and with that she turned and ran quickly up the stairs and they could hear her footfalls and angry screams out into the street.

When Buffy was sure she was gone she looked to Angel who was still facing away from her. His head began to lightly shake before the sobs brought him to his feet and he covered his face with his hands and wept deeply, crouched over onto his knees on the dirty floor. Buffy wanted to cry with him, for him, but she realized she didn’t have the energy and she felt her head go limp and her eyes closed on to darkness. But her dark thoughts remained, she knew Faith’s threat had been true, it wasn’t over. She would want revenge and what she had lost was great to her. Angel would be a nervous guilty wreck but at least he would be Angel. Willow obviously wasn’t able to kill Faith. Spike was probably dust, or near enough to be useless for a good space of time. There was a house full of vulnerable young girls waiting at home for her and the impending apocalypse that she wasn’t sure she would be able to overcome in the first place. All the problems weighed her body and mood down into the darkness that was unconsciousness and she wished deep inside her heart that she had died at his hands.

***Soon to be continued in the final part of the Cold Series.***

Well there it is guys, I'm still not completely thrilled with the ending so let me know your honest opinions. Truthfully I wanted to get it over with so I could move on to the next section, and maybe a Long Journey Series, and oddly enough I've had a future fic running rampant in my brain. So let me know the problems praise whatever. ~crazy_girl_mary