Willow lay awake in Xander's bed. He was on the couch. She felt grateful. She didn't want to be where Tara had been shot.

She wasn't sure if Xander was there as friend or guard.

They should kill her. Maybe they still would. Over the years they'd fought humans, humans who'd died or who'd deserved to die. Mrs. Madison. Daryl Epps. Pete Clarner. Tucker Wells. Andrew. Jonathan.


Willow turned her head away, but not from what she'd done to Warren. She'd do it again. That's how she knew was a monster. They should kill her, while they still could.