“Stop! We can’t do this!” Trish was pulling frantically on Wesley’s injured arm. Alex saw him cry out and clutch at it, dropping his gun.

“Wes, look out!” he shouted. But a Council angel had already taken the chance to fly right at him; Wesley froze as he stared into its eyes. The next moment he was theirs.

“No – we can’t hurt the angels – what are we doing?” he gasped. He lunged at Brendan, sending them both sprawling. “Stop! Don’t hurt them!”

Sam took aim at another angel; Alex threw himself at his arm and his shot went wild. Suddenly Alex noticed the man in the dark suit who sat slumped against the far wall. Oh Christ, it couldn’t be. Raziel.

Willow’s father shook his head briefly, as if shackles were falling from him. Gazing at the scene, his handsome jaw hardened. Wesley’s dropped gun lay nearby on the carpet and he reached for it, fingers closing around the weapon.

Still on top of the struggling Sam, Alex aimed his own gun and started firing, even though he knew it would do no good; angels couldn’t be killed in their human forms. Raziel gave a hiss, recoiling as the bullets rained into him – but still he lifted the gun, aiming at a Council member who was darting at Liz.

Sam saw him too. Abruptly, the fight went out of him; his startled eyes met Alex’s. “Stop!” he bellowed. “You guys, stop! He’s right!”

It all happened in seconds: Brendan shoved Wesley off and fired at the same time as Raziel; the Council member went down in a fountain of light. Another angel swooped at Brendan, tearing at his life energy; he staggered with a cry and went down, clutching his leg. At the same time, Kara had grabbed a fallen gun and was struggling with the hysterical Trish – she battled away Trish’s flailing hands and nailed the angel who’d given Wesley angel burn, sending it flying into fragments.

Then Kara saw Raziel. Her eyes went wide; she gave Alex a startled look. Flying unsteadily, Willow and Seb’s angels both started towards Willow’s father – who stood aiming the pistol at the last of the Twelve.

No! The hyper-awareness came back to Alex. In slow motion, he and Sam scrambled to their feet, lunging across the room in unison; dimly, he was aware of Wesley still on the floor, and Trish grappling with Kara again. A muscle in Raziel’s jaw tightened as he took aim. His wounds were bleeding slightly, staining his expensive-looking suit.

Alex had the blurred impression that the last Council angel was trying to do something – wield some kind of power over Raziel. Though she was now burning so brightly that he could barely look at her, whatever it was wasn’t successful. Raziel’s lip lifted in a sneer.

“My world, my rules, Isda,” he said softly.