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''If Spike made only one kill, and the rest of you were in other towns,''
she
was saying, ''then why were two victims found?'' She studied each vampire
in
turn, waiting for one to speak; no matter what was said, the first
one to cave
in would be deemed guilty. She had found long ago that this method
was always
accurate.
And when it wasn't? That wasn't her problem.
''Maybe,'' Dorman volunteered finally, ''there are others in town.''
Spike, familiar with her methods, winced; the younger vampire may as
well have
just handed her a stake.
''Really,'' she said. ''And you think I don't know about every vampire
that
passes through my city?''
''Well, I - I . . .'' Too late, Dorman read his death warrant written
in her
eyes.
She glared at him coldly, suddenly wearing her game face. Each of the
five
vampires involuntarily took a step back. Snarling faintly, she backed
Dorman,
who had instinctively vamped out, against a wall. She glared into his
eyes,
refusing to let his gaze escape hers.
''Here it comes,'' breathed Angelus, his own eyes bright with anticipation.
She growled suddenly.
And stepped back.
And turned abruptly and left the room.
The room was filled with a stunned silence. At length, Damian broke it.
''Why didn't she kill him?''
''She must have had her reasons,'' replied Devlin. Obviously not as
bothered
by Dorman's narrow escape as the older, more experienced vampires were,
he was
ready to let the subject drop. No more was said on the matter.
Spike didn't like it. Her failure to kill Dorman went against everything
he
knew about her. His instincts told him that something was very, very
wrong.
Willow frowned in consternation at the document on her computer screen.
Miss Calendar, apparently in the throes
of whimsy, had written the entire thing in
Spanish. Willow hadn't set foot in Spanish class since the beginning of
sophomore year. She sighed heavily and began
to rack her memory.
Fifteen minutes later, Willow had translated
two or three sentences and now remembered clearly why she'd
dropped the class - she could never remember
any of it. She was dying for a distraction.
''Hey, Will. What's up?''
''Xander! Cordelia! Yea!'' Willow exclaimed, looking up from the computer with considerable relief.
''Hi.'' Cerdeila seated herself on one of the desks.
''Please don't sit on the desks,'' Willow said automatically.
''Uh, Willow,'' said Xander, twirling his grape
lollipop absently between his fingers, ''school is over. You don't
need to do the teacher thing anym - oops.''
he finished as the lollipop dropped between the desk and file cabinet.
He paused, weighing his desire to finish the
candy against the likelihood that it was now covered with dust, then
shrugged and leaned over to fish it out.
Eew,'' groaned Cordelia. ''Who *knows* what's behind there?''
''Nothing too evil,'' Xander answered, straightening
up with lollipop in hand. ''Hey, Will, you must've dropped
this,'' he added, putting a florescent green
floppy disk on her desk. Willow picked it up and studied it thoughtfully.
Xander contemplated his dusty lollipop, then
pretended to start putting it his mouth for the sole purpose of grossing
out Cordelia.
It worked.
''Don't you *dare!*'' She produced a bottle of Evian and tossed it to Xander. ''Rinse it off.''
''This isn't mine,'' Willow said. ''It must
be Miss Calendar's. Hey, maybe it's that list of grades I couldn't find,''
she
mused, slipping the disk into the computer.
Xander held the lollipop over the trashcan and poured water over it.
''This isn't those grades,'' Willow murmured.
''What . . . ?'' She skimmed the text, then gasped in disbelief and read
it more closely. ''Oh, my god . . .''
''What is it?'' Xander capped the water bottle and tossed it back to Cordelia, who caught it neatly.
Willow's voice rose with excitement. ''Guys,
this is the curse! To restore Angel's soul!'' She met her friend's blank,
shocked stares. ''It's all right here!'' Suddenly,
her smile slipped away. ''He must have known somehow,'' she
realized sadly. ''That's why he killed her.''
Cordelia found her voice. ''We have to tell Buffy. And Giles.''
''Whoa! Hold on a second here!'' Xander objected.
''Not that I don't prefer Soul Boy to Demon Guy any day, but
what if the curse isn't right, and it makes
him crave Cheez Whiz for the rest of eternity or something?''
Cordelia raised an eyebrow. ''So your objections are for Angel's sake.''
''Sort of . . .''
Guys,'' Willow interrupted, ''Xander does kind
of have a point. We should be careful. We have to talk to Giles
about this.''
''But we don't know how to reach them,'' Cordelia pointed out.
''So we wait for them to reach us,'' Willow
answered.
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