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Part Seven
Cordelia woke up.
In the back of a car.
AGAIN.
All this waking up and falling asleep was going to play havoc with the lines around her eyes. Oh, for some Retin-A!
She shook her head and struggled to sit up. This time, at least, the car wasn’t moving. Then she got a good look out the window and saw that they were at the makeout place, parked well away from anyone else, in the woods, and never mind how she knew that.
“Hold it!” Cordelia shrieked, a horrid idea suddenly forming in her head.
Marcie’s voice came from the driver’s side. “Yes, princess?”
“Why did you bring me up HERE?”
Unexpectedly, Marcie burst out laughing. When the invisible girl could finally bring herself under control, she said, “Cordelia Chase, you really do have an ego the size of Missouri, don’t you? A, I’m straight, and B, even if I weren’t, you aren’t even close to being my type.”
“And why not?!” Cordelia demanded. For some reason this only set Marcie off again.
“Look,” she said once she’d stopped giggling, “Did that friend of yours — Buffy —”
“She’s NOT my friend!” Cordelia said firmly.
“Whatever. Did she explain to you about the FBI agents who came and dragged me off?”
“Is that who they were?” Cordelia asked. “I DID see them — but still …”
“That’s what they told Buffy at the time … but they weren’t FBI, really. They were from a top-secret government agency that recruits people with my … unique deformity … to do special things for them. Spying, things like that, only it’s easier ’cause no one can see me. You know, the kind of thing Scully and Mulder fight against every week — only we’re on the side of the good guys. I’ve been training with them for almost two years now and they think I’m about ready to go out on my own.”
“And …?” Cordelia prompted, a little irritably.
“So the place is wired seven ways from Sunday to stop us from getting out without supervision — and to stop anyone unauthorized from coming in. But Ethan Rayne came into my room without anyone stopping him, and took me out the same way, and I don’t care WHAT he had in the way of personal stealth gear, that wouldn’t have happened unless the guys upstairs were in the know somehow. Even someone of Ethan Rayne’s … abilities.”
Cordelia snapped back, “You don’t know what he’s capable of, really, you don’t.”
“Magic,” said Marcie as Cordelia fought to keep her jaw from dropping open. “So we do know what he’s capable of. And if you’re worried, those in the know have no negative interest in Buffy at all. They like having someone on the scene who knows what she’s doing … of course, they also like not being the people blamed if something goes wrong.”
“I wasn’t worried.” And of course she had been, though she’d never admit it. Buffy’s life as a Slayer was hard enough with just the demon MAYOR after her … imagine if the president was a demon?
Actually, that would explain a lot …
“Anyway,” Marcie said. “So they knew I was leaving. So on my way here to Sunnydale, I thought about it, and I figured it out: my training was about done, and one of the things they’ve been teaching us is how to let go of our previous lives. Not that most of us had one anyway … so I figure this is kind of my graduation exercise.”
In disbelief, Cordelia said, “What? Your graduation exercise was me? What are you going to do, assassinate Muppets?”
“Huh?” Marcie seemed a bit off-balance. Good.
“I mean, I may be gorgeous, talented, and popular, but I’m not exactly a master of martial arts here.”
Cordelia could almost hear Marcie thinking. “You’ve changed, Cordelia. Not much — you’re still an obnoxious, self-centered bitch in SO many ways … and I’m sure you still ruin lives … but you realize that there are people around you that are better than you are at something.”
“Oh, yes,” Cordelia muttered. “You can’t be in the know in this town too long and not realize that.”
“Well, then, let me put it like this: I think my graduation exercise is to NOT kill you.”
THAT Cordelia hadn’t been expecting to hear. “What?”
“And I’m not going to, either.” Then Cordelia was suddenly struck by an invisible fist to the face, stunning her and knocking her back into the seat. “THAT’S for mistreating me and making me feel invisible all these years. Now get out of the car. You’re walking back to town. I’ll … drop the car off somewhere. I’m a spy, not a thief.”
Spitting blood, Cordelia said, “What, CRAWL?” as she held up her wrists. God! She hoped that didn’t bruise …
… not to mention the dangers inherent in WALKING back to town after dark in Sunnydale. A knife flashed through the air, and first Cordelia’s wrists, and then ankles, were set free. “Oh, by the way … you never know when I or one of my buddies might be around. So don’t tell about my job, okay?” Before she could protest about the vampires — or respond to the threat — Cordelia found herself being shoved out of the car. As she clambered to her feet, she saw Marcie drive off into the distance.
She looked around, and apart from the cars over on the other side, she was alone. Walk back to town by herself? Not likely, with so many rides over there.
But as she came near, suddenly she heard people screaming and cars pulling out. Thirty seconds later the only people left there were Cordelia … a bloody corpse on the ground …
… and Drusilla.
* * *
Faith finished pounding Ted into complete inactivity. Of course, he’d long ago given up all the information she wanted to hear, but hell, this wasn’t even killing, and it was a whole lot more fun, too!
Turned out they weren’t here for the long haul; someone mysterious had hired Ethan Rayne to get a group of Buffy’s old enemies together and raise a really big ruckus in the town to keep her distracted. The someone mysterious had reserved Willow for him or herself, and right now Catherine the Great, Drusilla, Lyle Gorch and Marcie Ross were out making a lot of noise.
What, wasn’t she good enough for their little group?
Hold that thought. Her revenge on Buffy and her gang was going to be a whole lot more long-lasting than what this crowd was trying to do. Come the Ascension, they’d be working for her.
She looked down at the ground. Now, what to do with the body? The Mayor’d like the head, though … maybe he could mount it in his closet or something.
Faith tossed the body in the dumpster. She’d worry about getting rid of it later.
The next step was to find Ethan Rayne and keep pounding.
* * *
Oz, Xander and Angel looked through the entire library. Not a sign of any of them. No Willow, no Amy the rat, and no Wesley, and no signs of a struggle either.
“Willow left her laptop on … and open,” Oz commented, a bit anxiously. “She wouldn’t do that unless they had to go off in a hurry.”
“Yeah,” Xander said, as he walked over to look at the laptop, pressing a key. “And where’d Wimpy run off to all of a sudden? I mean, it’s not like … he …” he trailed off, looking at the laptop a bit slackjawed.
“Not like he what?” Oz said as he moved in next to Xander. “Whoa!” He turned his head sharply away. “Angel, come over here and look at this — but only for a second or two.” The vampire took one look at the vast, multicolored whirling spiral, swore, and slammed down the lid.
Then he looked at Xander, still deep in his trance, and said, “Do you know how tempting it is to take advantage of this?”
“Angel …” Oz said. “Not funny. Not now.”
“Xander,” Angel said, tacitly acknowledging Oz’s point, “I will count to three and you will wake up. One. Two. Three.”
Shaking his head, Xander said, “What WAS that?”
“You were just hypnotized, Xander,” Angel said. “My guess is whoever kidnapped Willow got her with her computer the same way.” Then he stopped for a second. “But how could they have told her what to do?”
Oz suddenly had a thought. “Close your eyes, everyone.” Then he crept his fingers along the table and pried open the laptop yet again.
“I recognize that voice,” Angel said. “That’s that girl who was helping the vampire Willow. What was her name …?”
“Anya,” Oz said.
“And what? Wesley and Amy went chasing after her?” Xander said. “I don’t buy that. We’ve already seen how heartless a bastard he can be. And Amy, Amy, Amy … her legs are too short.”
“Willow’s life in Wesley’s hands. I don’t like this,” Oz said.
Someone new said from the doorway, “Funny, isn’t it, how life just keeps happening whether you like it or not?” All three heads turned, and there stood Ethan Rayne …
… holding a rather nasty-looking pistol.
* * *
And what of Buffy and Giles, you may ask?
Well, as they zoomed to the makeout place — zoomed being a relative term, considering Giles’ car — the Citroen in question decided that now would be a marvelous time to do an impression of a busted car, stranding them a good three miles from their destination. So while Xander and Oz were being assaulted by Lyle Gorch, Faith dismantled Ted down into his component parts and Wesley was chasing Willow throughout the streets of Sunnydale —
Giles and Buffy were jogging uphill. And while Giles was in remarkable shape for most men his age, he did not have Slayer strength or Slayer stamina. Buffy could quite readily manage a 5-minute mile if she wanted, while Giles was hard-pressed at 9. Even at that rate and with Buffy carrying all the portable equipment he was going to be fairly close to useless by the time they finally made it up the hill, unless whatever was needed involved collapsing on the ground and panting heavily.
Nonetheless, they saw several odd things along the way.
The first odd thing they saw was Cordelia’s car, seemingly without either driver or passenger. About five minutes later — and only a quarter-mile or so from the top of the hill — a dozen cars came barrelling downhill, in both lanes, obviously more interested in speed than accuracy.
Buffy turned to Giles and said, “I think I’d better go see what that was about.” Then she took off sprinting without waiting for an answer.
“That’s alright,” Giles eventually said with a wry tone in his voice, “go on without me. I can take care of myself …” Then he heard a scream from on ahead, and, not wasting any precious breath on cursing, he sped up as much as he could bear until he finally made it to the location of the scream.
Cordelia leaned against a tree, eyes wide with terror, not that Giles could blame the poor girl. Buffy, meanwhile, was facing off against —
Well, of course, how could it be otherwise?
Drusilla. And the vampire possessed a definite advantage, because of the agreement Buffy had made with Spike.
“Slayer …!” The vampire said with enthusiasm. “I was so hoping to find you here … you’re a very bad girl, you know, and MUST be punished.”
“Better vampires than you have tried,” Buffy answered. “Bring it on.”
And their fight began in earnest.