Christopher Golden

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? feel it,??Buffy whispered. She pointed through the windshield. Giles stopped the car. Behind the gates, framed by thick privet hedges, rose a monstrous and yet somehow beautiful piece of architecture unlike anything Giles had ever seen. A row of windows across the top floor of the house looked like nothing so much as eyes, staring madly down at them. Everything inside Giles begged him to turn the car around and get Buffy out of there. There was evil here, massive, unbridled evil. Whatever was…