"This?" Anya half smirked, the expression a shadow of the ones she used to have as she waved a hand over her face, slipping the glamor back into place. "Courtesy of Amy Madison." Her voice was cold at the mention of the other witch, the one more powerful than her. It grated at her every day that she'd been bested by that lunatic. And at such a price. not just her face, but every one of her friends Amy had killed.
"And you know who she's working for," she looked hard at Buffy. "Twilight is coming. And we weren't ready, none of us."
Lauren was right, it really had gone to hell.
"We were stupid. We thought we'd have more time, that he'd only target the Slayers, that he'd be weaker than he was. And then when he hit, it all went so horribly wrong."
All those deaths. Buffy's, so public and brutal. Every other Slayer any of them had ever known, Sam, Ruby, Lavender, Mitchell.
"They're all dead," her voice didn't shake, and her gaze didn't flinch. "All of them. And the American public cheered."