Angelus took in his opponent's stance and knew that she would fight to the death this time. Wearing Angel's face would not save him if she gained the upper-hand. Thinking that it might by him time anyway, he controlled his vampire senses and returned to his human face. He could smell her fear, the same as he could the night before, but there was something new mixed in. He searched his mind for a name for it. And suddenly, it came to him. Determination. She was so livid and disgusted that hardly anything would slow her down. But then, Angelus smiled. Death would slow her down. He broke the circle pattern and ran at her with the intent of faking her out, but she guessed his plan and blocked him. Going for the more open approach, he darted to the fireplace on the far wall, knowing that ceremonial knives were stacked there in glass cases. Buffy saw where he was going and tried to head him off, but he knocked her sideways with a backhand and shattered all of the glass cases. Picking up the longest knife he could see, he stood and grinned at the slayer.

Buffy saw the knife glint in his hand and her blood turned cold. All she had was a stake. Angelus shifted the knife in his hand, and she darted forward to try and knock it from him. In an instant, she realized that she had lost her balance, and now had a knife protruding from her side. She looked at Angelus with wide eyes, disbelieving that she had lost.

Angelus saw his knife slide into the slayer and looked at the blood that poured out of her with mixed feelings. Of course, he wouldn't be able to torture her anymore, or smell her fear or make her eyes widen in terror, but death was sweeter than all of those. He started toward her, but jumped back, hissing, as the sun rose and covered the slayer in sunlight.