Prologue

She had had enough of this. Angel had screwed up her perception of life so much that she had screwed up her own life. She had been humiliated and fired by her own people, kicked out of the LAPD for being obsessed with things she couldn't explain. She couldn't explain some of the things to herself. Vampires, demons, a Law firm that worked for evil. The murder of her father by things that a couple of years ago she didn't believe existed. Her only guide through this, another one of those creatures, only apparently now fighting on the side of good.

The side of good? That was hard to believe at times. The amount of collateral damage caused by Angel seemed to be worse than he could reason to her. The fact that he had defended a wanted murderer to her face because she wanted to redeem herself didn't help. She'd had enough. Her life was out of control and she didn't have anything to hold on to. She had lost all her comrades, her support, her adopted family when they had kicked her out of the force. There was nothing left for her. Of course, her gun had been taken at the same time as she had been fired. That's why she was sat on the floor, a lethal cocktail of drugs and alcohol coursing through her veins as she waited for oblivion.

The phone call had been a cry for help, she realised. As much as she wanted to hate Angel, she had seen the good he had done, despite the damage. But the vengeful part of her just wanted to put this on his conscience, despite the fact that the death of a number of lawyers had apparently not bothered him. She ended the call and closed her eyes, willing oblivion to come. Willing it all to end. A weird whooshing rent the air, as the world started to go black. A blue box appeared.

Why would a British police box appear in her apartment? That was the last thought that went through her head as her eyesight faded to black.