Standing in front of Angel again, the man she had once believed would be her happily ever after made Buffy’s stomach spin and her mouth so dry she could hardly swallow. God, she had missed him. Hated herself for sending him to Hell. Cursed the very idea of a Slayer and wished she could be anything other than what she was.
Angel’s dark gaze was locked on her, but he wasn’t talking. Buffy figured she shouldn’t be surprised, she didn’t know what to say either; so much to say. Nothing that could be said. All things at once.
Besides, ever since she had met him, Angel hadn’t exactly been the talkative type. He was the stereotypical cut out for tall, dark and silent. In fact, he rather made regular tall, dark and silent types seem tall, dark and chatty.
She wished he would say something. Anything. Even if he said he hated her for what she had done to him.
She could see the muscle in his jaw ticking as though he were grinding his teeth together, and then suddenly he changed, vamped out right in front of her and growled.
Buffy’s heart slammed painfully in her chest. This was not the man she loved. This wasn’t even Angelus. This was a wild beast snarling at her. Her blood ran cold.
What had she done to him?