Buffy The Vampire Slayer.

Angel Chronicles 02.

PROLOGUE.

Angel was growing restless.

He'd been waiting since eight o'clock, his gaze fixed on the steady flow of people in and out the front door of the Bronze. She should have been here by now. She should have been here more than an hour ago.

Buffy,he thought.Buffy, are you okay?

He could feel his senses growing even sharper, his mind groping out across the room. The Bronze was busy tonight, as usual-noisy and crowded with its mobbed dance floor, loud band, and general confusion of conversation and fun. Yet, sitting alone at his table, Angel felt strangely distant from it all.

He'd been in many places like this over the course of his life. And though the fashions and music, the language and etiquette might have changed from century to century, there was still that seductive play of light and shadow across the floor, across the walls; there was still that enticing crush of too many bodies packed into too small a space. Even now he could smell it-that throbbing heat of human flesh pressing in on him from every side. And he closed his eyes, surrendering to the long-ago memories that came flooding back.

Yes, he'd been in places just like this many times before. Waiting for victims. Waiting for women . . .

But none of them like Buffy.

Slowly he opened his eyes.

Surrounded by people, he felt utterly alone. Surrounded by laughter, he felt weary with an age-old sadness. He looked around at all the young faces, so full of innocence and recklessness and life. He felt pity for them. And he envied them.

They were part of Buffy's world.

A world where he'd never belong.

Angel clasped his hands together, his jaw tightening in a grimace.Why did I even come tonight, anyway? He'd promised himself a thousand times that he'd walk away from Buffy and never look back.

Hadn't he felt enough pain and regret in his lifetime without dragging her into it, too? Love was a dangerous emotion-it weakened people, clouded their instincts, made them vulnerable. Love was a luxury neither of them could afford if they wanted to survive.

He stared down at the table. There was a peculiar warmth inside him whenever he thought of her . . . a warmth that flowed through his veins like something sacred and pure. Yes, he admitted to himself, loving Buffy made him vulnerable. But it also made him feel more completely alive than he'd ever felt throughout his long, endless lifetime.

She should be here by now,he thought again.

He lifted his dark eyes and fixed them anxiously upon the door.

THE FIRST CHRONICLE:.

HALLOWEEN.

PROLOGUE.

Only two days left until Halloween.

Darkness had fallen over Sunnydale, and the pumpkin field had closed its gates for the night.

Now a brisk fall wind rattled the scarecrows and cornstalks along the fence and shook the strings of colored lights draped festively overhead. Dead leaves swept across the ground, over piles of straw and bales of hay, beneath an old wooden wagon with its equally old wooden sign: Pop's Pumpkin Patch.

Grinning jack-o-lanterns flickered eerily through the shadows.

And the vampires were restless.

Buffy hit the ground with a thud, feeling a jack-o-lantern smash beneath her. Breathlessly, she rolled to one side, grabbed a smaller pumpkin, and hurled it at the approaching vampire as he leaned in for the kill.

The pumpkin caught him full in the face, throwing him off balance, and before he could recover himself, a second pumpkin hit him between the eyes.

The vampire stumbled backward. Instantly Buffy whipped out a wooden stake and threw it straight at his heart, but he managed to grab a scarecrow, using it as a shield. There was a dull thud as the stake pierced the chest of the scarecrow. The vampire grinned delightedly.

"Hmmm." So this wasn't going to be as easy as she'd thought. And after she'd madeother plans for tonight-much moreimportant plans than battling demons and rolling around in jack-o-lantern muck.

This whole situation wasreally beginning to annoy her.

As the vampire tossed the scarecrow aside, Buffy jumped to her feet and resumed her defensive posture. For several minutes she stubbornly held her ground, until two sidearm blows and a merciless kick sent her back down again. She was so busy fighting, she didn't even realize she was being watched-watched and filmed through a video camera a safe distance away.

Hidden among the outlying trees and shadows of the pumpkin patch, another vampire was taping the whole messy combat.Had been taping, in fact, ever since it first began. Recording Buffy's uncanny speed as she rebounded, recording her incredible strength as she delivered two hard uppercuts and a kick to her opponent's jaw.

Yes,the creature thought,this is exactly what weneeded . . .

He frowned as he noticed the blinking light in the corner of his viewfinder. The battery was getting low, and the fight wasn't finished. Grunting, he gave the camera a frustrated shake, then refocused it.

Buffy had gained the upper hand at last. A vicious head butt and a swift kick to the vampire's chest sent him sprawling headlong into a mountain of pumpkins, where Pop's Pumpkin Patch sign toppled to the ground. With one smooth movement, Buffy grabbed the sign and swept it under the vampire's feet, knocking him off balance. Then she plunged the pointed end deep into his heart.

The night was still.

A line of static burst across the video camera, but the hidden vampire kept on shooting.

He managed to get the pile of dust that had once been Buffy's antagonist; he managed to get Buffy standing up and walking away . . .

And then the video went out.

The creature stepped from the shadows, the camera still held to his eyes. He moved slowly forward and lowered the camera from his hideous face.

He smiled, pleased with his efforts.

Then he, too, disappeared into the night.

CHAPTER 1.

Another ten minutes,Angel decided.I'll give heranother ten minutes . . .

For the last half hour he'd kept his attention focused on the doorway, but now, more and more unsettling thoughts were weighing on his mind.

Maybe Buffy was in trouble. Not that she couldn't defend herself, he reasoned, but nightly patrols were always potentially disastrous. Or maybe she hadn't been able to sneak out of the house tonight. Or maybe she'd made other plans and simply forgotten about their date.

Angel sighed. Oblivious to the partying all around him, he sat there and brooded.

"Iknow. Is the Bronze not-happening or what?"

Angel glanced up to see Cordelia standing beside him. With her long dark hair, skintight clothes, and perfect figure, she knew she looked sultry and confident as always. To her annoyance, however, Angel didn't seem to be noticing.

"Um, hi," he said. "I'm waiting for Buffy."

"Great!" Sitting down, Cordelia made herself comfortable, leaning forward a little to reveal her plunging neckline. "I'm supposed to be meeting Devon, but he's nowhere to be seen. It's like he thinks being in a band gives him an obligation to be a flake. Well, his loss is your incredible gain . . ."

She droned on and on. Angel managed a thin smile and drummed his fingers nervously on the table. He gave her his halfhearted attention, trying to be polite.

That was why he didn't see Buffy come in a few minutes later. He didn't see the sheepish look on her face, or how she stopped to catch her breath, or how she ran her hands self-consciously through her hair, pulling out dirt and seeds and pumpkin slime. Scanning the crowd, Buffy spotted Angel and Cordelia at their table, and felt her heart plunge. It was obvious Cordelia was in full-flirt mode. Buffy watched her chattering and laughing, and after awhile, Angel shook his head and laughed, too.

Buffy looked down at her own filthy clothes. She looked back at Cordelia's carefully planned perfection. And then miserably she turned away.

"So then I told Devon," Cordelia rambled on, "you callthat a leather interior? My Barbie Dream Car had nicer seats."

Angel laughed again, rather painfully. And then he noticed Buffy at last.

"Buffy?" He got up and hurried toward the club entrance, leaving Cordelia hanging in midsentence.

Buffy saw him coming and stopped.Too late now. Steeling herself, she put on her best game face.

"Oh. Hi," she greeted him cheerfully. "I'm-"

"Late," Angel said. He appraised her with one swift glance while Buffy managed a nod.

"Rough day at the office," she mumbled.

Smiling, Angel pulled a piece of straw gently from her hair. "So I see."

He handed it to her. Humiliated, Buffy tried to turn it into a joke.

"Hey, it's a look. A seasonal look."

"Buffy." Cordelia sashayed past them, an obvious smirk on her sensual lips. "Love your hair. It just screams street urchin."

Inwardly Buffy cringed. Outwardly, she tried once more to sound casual.

"You know what?" she told Angel. "I need to go . . . put a bag over my head."

But Angel wasn't fooled. As he looked down at her troubled expression, his voice softened. "Don't listen to her. You look fine."

"You're sweet." Buffy managed a grim smile. "A terrible liar. But sweet."

Turning again to leave, she felt Angel's hand on her arm.

"I thought we had . . . you know."

"A date?" Buffy turned back to him now, all her resolve suddenly crumbling. Her voice was quiet but tight with emotion. "So did I. But who am I kidding? Dates are things normal girls have. Girls who have time to think about nail polish and facials and stuff. You know what I think about? Ambush tactics.

Beheading. Not exactly the stuff dreams are made of."

Angel stared down at her, feeling her pain, not knowing quite what to say. As he watched her go, Cordelia glided up to him again, holding out two cups of coffee. She smiled a triumphant smile.

"Cappuccino?"

CHAPTER 2.

Volunteers Are Winners, the signs read. Safe and Sane Halloween.

The halls of Sunnydale High were thronged with students moving to and from class. Halloween decorations were plastered everywhere, and a long table had been set up, manned by several kids and their neat rows of sign-up sheets. Principal Snyder stood by, arms clamped across his chest, beady eyes surveying the crowd. He looked even sneakier than usual today. It was obvious he was on the prowl.

An unsuspecting girl almost made it past the table before he grabbed her.

"Hey!" she exclaimed. She tried to wriggle free, but his grip was relentless.

"You're volunteering," he ordered.

"But I have to get to class-"

His grip tightened even more. He steered her over to the sign-up table just as Buffy, Willow, and Xander walked by with curious stares.

"Snyder must be in charge of the volunteer safety program for Halloween this year," Willow observed.

Xander hunched his shoulders, hands dug deep into his pockets. "Note his interesting take on the 'volunteer' concept," he said dryly.

Buffy warily eyed the table. "What's the deal?"