It’s fully stocked with survival gear and weaponry – with the addition of holographs for training, it would be a perfect base for the AKs, read a note from Sophie. There was limited knowledge of the facility even when Project Angel was running; I am reasonably certain that this information, along with the access codes contained here, are now known only by myself.

Reasonably certain – great. I’ve already got a base, thought Alex as he moved the laptop to one side. Besides, they’d only need a place to operate from if they failed to kill the Council – and if that was the case, the odds of the AKs even being around afterwards seemed pretty slim.

In just a few days, he could die.

Alex sank back against the sofa, staring at the ceiling. Being raised as an Angel Killer meant that, deep down, he’d always expected to die young – and he wouldn’t mind, not if it rid the world of the angels. The only time he’d ever wanted more had been these last few months with Willow, when the desire to actually be around long enough to have a life with her – seeing her smile as she woke up beside him every morning; hearing her laugh – had given his fight against the angels more of a purpose than ever before. Even now, he loved her so much that uppermost in his mind was gladness that she wouldn’t be there for the Council attack. That no matter what happened, she’d at least be safe.

God, what a sap he was – when she was with Seb right this second. He closed his eyes against the sharp twist of pain.

“Hey,” whispered a soft voice. The cushion sank down as someone sat beside him.

His eyes flew open. Kara was there, clad in the shorts and T-shirt she wore to bed. “I came down to the kitchen and saw the light on,” she explained, tucking her long legs up under her. “You okay?”

“Fine.” He stayed slumped where he was, not bothering to straighten up. Distantly, he was aware that the house felt cool now, the air prickling at his bare chest. “Couldn’t be better.”

Kara was silent for a long moment. Without make-up, the dramatic lines of her face looked softer, more vulnerable. “I know how you feel,” she said finally. “I really do, Alex. I never told you, but do you remember David?”

At first Alex didn’t. The camp in New Mexico had been home to hundreds of potential AKs over the years. A lot of them didn’t have what it took and ended up being escorted out again – without ever having known exactly where the camp was, in case they later got angel burn and tried to confess everything. Then he vaguely remembered a good-looking guy with broad shoulders and red hair, like a Viking.

“Wasn’t he a college football player, or something?” he asked.