The Cherokee stopped in front of Sunnydale High. Buffy looked over at her mother. "I'm still willing to consider staying home today."
Joyce showed her no-nonsense face. "Out, young lady."
The Slayer complied, then turned back. "Thanks, mom. I'll see you after school."
"You'd better," Joyce muttered as she put the Jeep in gear and drove away. Buffy squared her shoulders and walked toward the school. As she went up the steps, Willow fell into step beside her. The redhead leaned over and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper as they walked.
"I haven't seen Xander or Cordelia. No Faith either, but that's not exactly a big 'Oh, Wow.'" Willow's mouth twisted to one side. "How are you?"
"Bad, but not Sylvia Plath bad. There will be no readings from The Bell Jar." The Slayer took a deep breath as she walked. "I got words of wisdom from my mom. They were surprisingly… wise."
Willow shrugged and nodded. "That's good. I'm just so… confused. I feel so bad for Xander, but he did a bad thing, a really, really bad thing, and then I feel bad for Cordelia, which, hello, plot twist from left field? This is all just getting too complicated. I don't even know who the good guys and bad guys are any more, and that's just on our team."
Buffy put a hand on Willow's arm. "Deep breath, Will. Breathe in pink, breathe out blue."
"I mean it, Buffy. My head's about to explode like Britney Spears." Willow frowned. "I mean, first we have to get used to the idea that Cordelia knows about vampires, then she starts dating Xander, which is, like, another plane of strangeness, and then Xander cheats on her, making it, like, dogs and cats living together. We're talking Old Testament levels of weirdness here." Willow shook her head. "I don't think I can keep up."
The Slayer shook her head as they pushed through the door. "Will, you… Uh oh, I don't like the looks of that." Willow followed Buffy's gaze and saw Giles looking around, his posture clearly indicating agitation. Buffy hooked Willow's arm. "Let's see what's the what."
Giles saw them and hurried in their direction. Buffy frowned as her Watcher bumped into a girl and hastily apologized.
"Okay, Giles," she said as they met. "What's so important that you actually made human contact?"
"What? Why are you…? Oh, you don't know. You don't know." Giles looked up at the ceiling, breathing hard.
"Giles," Willow said, "do you have any medication that we don't know about that you forgot to take this morning?"
"What? Don't be silly. It's Xander."
"What?" Buffy and Willow spoke as one.
"I thought you knew. I thought you could tell me-"
"Giles!" Buffy's chin thrust forward. "Pictionary isn't supposed to be verbal. Take a deep breath and use small words to form short sentences. What about Xander?"
Giles bit his lip. "He's in hospital."
"What!" Again in unison, only an octave higher.
"We got one of those messages on the machine-"
"An e-mail on the computer?" Willow prompted.
"Yes, thank you. Sorry. Stress is making me revert to old habits." His head dipped down as the bell rang.
"Giles?" Buffy arched her eyebrows. "Information, not exposition."
"Yes. Xander is in hospital. There wasn't any real information, but the e-mail did say it was serious."
"Serious, as in…" Willow's voice died away as she tapped her neck with two fingers of her left hand.
"Oh, God, I hadn't even thought of that." Giles turned away in frustration.
"Let's all catch a wave and surf back to sanity," the Slayer said. "I think that all the vamps in Sunnydale shoot for the morgue, not the emergency room. Being in the hospital is bad enough. Let's not go to the worst place until we know for sure." She shifted her books to her other arm. "Which we should probably do right now."
"Not a good idea," Willow breathed beside her. Buffy looked over her shoulder, following Willow's line of sight until she saw Principal Snyder standing at the end of the hall.
"Unfriendly eyes are watching," Willow said.
"Tiny unfriendly eyes," Buffy added.
Willow nodded every so slightly. "Tiny, prying, unfriendly eyes." Her lips barely moved. "Do we have a plan?" Snyder began to walk toward them. "Giles," Willow whined, her voice rising.
"Go to class. Let me find a way to go the hospital and check on Xander."
"What about Faith and Cordelia?" Willow's voice was jittery. Snyder was halfway down the hall.
"What about them?" Buffy hissed.
"They're not here either," Willow replied.
"I'll see if they're at the hospital. If they're not, you should try to find them after school." Giles turned and proceeded toward the library. Buffy and Willow split, heading down different halls. Snyder stopped, unable to choose which direction to go, then pivoted and went to his office, short legs churning.
Mr. Quisling waited patiently. This was really quite an achievement. Patience was hard to come by when one was spread-eagled against a wall, chains at the wrist and ankles. He concentrated on taking deep, even breaths and alternately flexing and releasing his limbs.
The door slammed open and a short vampire stood in the doorway. Quisling remembered him; the missing three fingers on the left hand, the vicious facial scar.
"So," Quisling said. "Is there any reason for this?" He nodded his head to indicate the restraints.
"I'm sure there is," Coyne grunted. He reached into the hallway and rolled a small tray into the room. He rolled it to within a few feet of Mr. Quisling, then stepped aside. As he did so, a gaunt, spectral figure entered the room. The Reverend stared at Quisling. The man in the suit stared back, unperturbed.
"I'm not sure that I understand why I'm here," Mr. Quisling said.
"You are here because you have been delivered into my hand. I have mortified my flesh before the Lord, that he might show me a way to punish your master for his impudence."
"I'm sorry," said Mr. Quisling. "I don't really understand, but I'm sure that if you will contact Mr. Trick, we can begin the negotiating process."
The Reverend pulled back the white cloth covering the tray. He held up a long, black knife with a wicked hook at the end of the blade. "You misunderstand. You are not here as a ploy. You are not here as a bargaining chip."
Mr. Quisling said, "Then why am I here?"
"You are here to suffer."