Chapter Two: Fang Marks

Buffy in a bathtub, slitting her wrists,

Master got her soul and she can't resist.

Angel stole her stake, now she's just a whore,

Now she's not the Slayer anymore.

"That is the most beautiful, inspiring poem I've ever heard," Cordelia gasped, gazing up at Edwina Covington in pure admiration. "It's so catchy, too. Like a jump-rope song!"

"I know I can count on you, my dear," the silver-haired Englishwoman said, patting Cordelia on her bare shoulder. "Just make sure the prophecy gets all around school."

"Sure, I can do that. No problemo!" The spoiled beauty lay back down on the table, sighing deeply as Edwina's jumbo-sized assistant Inga resumed her daily massage. Hitting the spa after school did a girl's complexion a world of good. Cordelia had managed to stop off every day this week.

The only problem was, Cordelia didn't really have the money for a full spa treatment every day. Not even at a tiny little day spa like Eternal Rest. So she was really pretty grateful that a classy old lady like Edwina was willing to old off on charging her – as long as she did her a few favors here and there.

Not that Queen C. (her license plate, and also her not-so-secret nickname for herself) had any intention of dirtying her own hands or ruining her own nails with spray paint or magic markers, or whatever the school losers used to write graffiti on the bathroom walls. No, there were better ways to get the job done.

"Hey! Hey you!" Cordelia didn't remember the loser's name. She wouldn't have used it anyway, so no big whoop there. But it was funny how lately she got these little blank spells where she couldn't remember stuff. Probably it was just all the relaxation time at the spa. And really, it was probably good for her not to be so stressed about stupid little details.

"Uh . . . hey. Hi, Cordy."

Cordelia's dark eyes flashed like lightning before a storm. "Who gave you permission to use my name, freak?"

"Uh . . . nobody?" Alone in the hallway, the loser squirmed like he was two seconds away from wetting his pants. He acted like it was years since anybody even called his name. All that misery and fear and all Cordelia felt was disgust.

But she smiled.

"Lucky for you I'm in a good mood today. What was your name again?"

"Jonathan."

"Right, Jonathan. Well, I'm playing a little joke on my good friend Buffy Summers, and I need you to write this poem on the wall in every boy's room in school. Now obviously I can't check your work. But I know you won't let me down."

Cordelia unleashed that smile again, letting it take full effect.

"But I . . . you . . . she . . . they . . ."

"Enough with the pronouns, loser boy!" Cordelia snapped, totally unaware that Jonathan was freaking out not about her but about something going on behind her.

Until a hand landed on her shoulder. It was a girl's hand, small and almost delicate-looking. But with a grip like steel.

"Hello, Cordelia," said Buffy Summers.

"Buffy! Hey!" Cordelia's smile would have cut any horny football player down to size instantly, but it bounced right off the pretty little blonde. Buffy scared Cordelia. It was the quiet strength and leadership under all that perky personality. "Jonathan and I were just . . . we were talking, and . . ."

"And look what Jonathan dropped on the floor." Like a vulture, Xander Harris swooped down on the piece of paper. He passed it to Willow Rosenberg.

Who passed it to Buffy.

"Do you want to explain this, Cordelia?" Buffy asked, in that soft, deadly voice. Her blue eyes were like probing lasers.

Cordelia went for a bright, happy tone. "You know, I'd love to! I can't remember who gave me this poem, but the moment I read it I thought it was totally inappropriate. In fact I was just asking Jonathan where I could find you guys!"

"So you can't remember who gave you this?" Buffy asked, holding the poem carefully in her left hand. Her eyes never left the other girl's face.

Cordelia shook her head, hoop earrings wiggling like crazy. "No! No, I can't! Isn't that funny, how I can't remember . . ."

"Maybe it was the same person who gave you this." Buffy used her right hand to pull the sexy blue Hermes scarf from around Cordelia's neck.

"Those look like fang marks," Xander Harris said helpfully.