Chapter One

When the first vision hit, she was carrying the two bags of art supplies that she had just purchased for Angel. In that first moment, when the pain made her fingers spasm and lose their grip on the bags, all that she could think was, "I just bought those and now somebody's gonna steal them while I'm chewing cobblestones. Gee, thanks, Powers that Be."

Then, along with the pain, came a jumbled vision of faces and voices, then an explosion and flames. Wesley? Angel? Nothing was clear. As usual.

As soon as the pain eased enough for her to grab her cell phone, she was on it, hitting the speed-dial sequence for the office, to warn the guys.

She never had the chance.

The next vision slammed into her head, even more agonizing than the first, and the cell phone hit the ground as she did. Dimly, as if from an increasing distance, she could hear the concerned voice of the woman vendor, but Cordelia couldn't speak.

All that she could do was scream.

The sound of the taunting voice, with its schoolyard lilt, was strangely familiar.

"I know something you don't know, I know something you don't know...."

It was a woman's voice or a girl's, she couldn't be sure. It could almost be the voice of a child, but it wasn't. She knew the voice, somehow.

With her head feeling like someone was pulling her brains out of her ears, it wasn't easy to remember anything much more than her own name.

Part of her was dimly aware that she was being restrained, and that her throat was raw from screaming, but that was such a little pain compared to the nuclear war going on in her head that it hardly mattered.

Through the dizzying swirl of faces and voices, and the pounding agony that came along with them, she struggled to focus. She had to focus on something, any one thing, it didn't matter what.

Stop the migraine-go-round, I need to get off, she pleaded silently, not knowing who was listening, or whether anyone cared.

It hurt like hell, but the spinning was worse, swinging with nauseating speed from one scene to another, so quickly that she couldn't keep track of anything, as too many images flashed through her mind. There were sounds, and even smells, and they all went by so fast. It was too much to absorb, and she was drowning.

And someone was laughing at her.

"I know something you don't know, I know something you don't know...."

The voice made her angry. Good. Anger was good. Some part of her remembered that anger had helped her, with the cranky old ghost and with the demon who made her pregnant. Anger was a way out of the kaleidoscope of pain.

"Who the hell are you? And what gives you the right to laugh at me?"

"I know something you don't know," the taunting chant continued.

No one laughs at Cordelia Chase, not even when she is in a world of hurt. No one. Cordelia used the anger, and the pain, to fuel her pursuit of that voice. She chased it down, hearing the echo of childlike laughter. She pursued the voice, narrowing the focus of her mind, trying to block out the other sounds and the whirling images, until she tracked it down.

"I know something you don't know."

And then finally she could see the face that went with the voice. Childlike, but not a child, and smiling with delight at Cordelia's pain.

Well, she wasn't going to get away with that.

"Drusilla."

She hadn't seen that insane vampire in years. Hadn't missed her, either. And now, there she was, getting her jollies out of the agony shooting through Cordelia's head.

This was totally unacceptable.

"What are you doing in my head?" Cordelia demanded.

"Oh no, you've got it all wrong, sister dear. You're in mine," Drusilla answered.

"Sister? I'm not your sister, you -"

"We are sisters now," Dru insisted, smiling, and swaying back and forth in that annoying way. "We are the visions."

"Don't you mean, we have the visions? And I don't appreciate the 'we' stuff either."

"We are the visions. We are the voices, and the voices are us."

"Voices are us? No thanks, not shopping there, been there, done that. What are you doing in my head? Or me in yours or whatever? I would so rather be anyplace else than in the mind of a crazy vampire, thank you very much."

Drusilla laughed. "You're welcome. But yours are are borrowed dreams, you know," Drusilla went on, dreamily. "It was so sweet, you won them with a kiss...."

"Keep your snaggle-fangy mouth off that subject, vapor-brain."

"I have a new doll now, would you like to see him? He thinks that you might like to play."

"I'm only dying here, not regressing. I don't play with dolls."

"Ah, but you'd like to play with this one, I know. He wants to kiss you again, but he can't even touch you. So sad... so sad...."

"You're dust, Drusilla." Cordelia strained forward, trying to reach Drusilla. She didn't have a stake, but she'd settle for getting her hands around the vampire's neck. If Dru killed her, well, at least the pain would stop.

"No, not dust," Drusilla disagreed, still smiling. "Darla, she was dust, but not for much longer, no. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes. Except my new dolly was ashes and now he's not, and Darla was dust and soon she won't be dust any more."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know." Drusilla gestured with her hand, and suddenly Cordelia could see a familiar figure, seemingly pressed against a wall of glass or some kind of crystal, hands pressed to the pane, mouth open, lips moving, trying to speak, but no sound coming out.

"Oh my god."

"That's my new dolly, isn't he cute? He's stuck between one place and the other, and I can play with him all I want. Doesn't want to go forward, can't go back, doesn't want to go forward, can't go back...." she began repeating the words in a singsong chant. Cordelia stared at the figure that seemed to be walled away from her by some transparent barrier, straining against it, trying to get through.

Doyle.

His eyes met hers, and she could see his lips moving. "I'm still here, princess," he mouthed. "I'm still here."

"Doyle...." she breathed, unbelieving.

Dru was still chanting, "Doesn't want to go forward, can't go back. Doesn't want to go forward, can't go back..."

"Drusilla, what is this place? Where is he?"

Drusilla giggled. "You're looking into my world, silly girl. You're at the doorway to my world, looking in. Do you want to come in and play with my new dolly?"

Cordelia raised a shaking hand to point at the image of Doyle. "I want him, but he's not your dolly to play with, he's not."

"Oh, yes he is," Dru contradicted. "As long as he's stuck between, he's all mine. Doesn't want to go forward, can't go back...."

"Stop saying that. Why you? Why here?"

"The spirit of the true seer is still bound to this plane, of course. And it's all your fault."

"My fault? My fault? How is this my fault?"

"First you didn't want to play with the dolly. Then he kissed you and gave you a great gift, but you don't want it. You want to give it back. And he's so sorry, poor little dolly, so sorry...."

"Sorry?"

"He's so sorry, never meant to hurt you, never meant to hurt his princess, so sorry...."

"Drusilla, if I have to stake you - " and then suddenly a stake appeared in Coordelia's hand.

Her eyes widened in surprise. That stake definitely hadn't been there before.

She just thought about it. She just wished for it, and then, it was there.

"Drusilla, I think the rules just changed," Cordelia said pleasantly, moving forward, with a stake in her hand. "Now, let him go."

"Oh, I can't let him go just yet, no, no, no." Drusilla didn't seem to be moving as Cordelia advanced on her, but somehow, she wasn't getting any closer. It was as if both of them were standing still, even though Cordelia seemed to be walking toward Drusilla.

"There is a price that must be paid, you know," Dru went on. "There's no such thing as a free lunch," and she giggled. "Except if you're a vampire, of course."

"What kind of price?" Cordelia's eyes were still on the struggling figure of Doyle, who continued to push helplessly against the clear wall in front of him. He wasn't making any progress, just as Cordelia wasn't getting any closer to Drusilla.

"If you want my dolly, you have to take the water of life, but you can't have it. It's mine."

"The what? Sounds like some kind of pricey sparkling water deal."

Dru giggled again. "Oh, it sparkles, yes it does. It sparkles, and it shimmers, and it shines. It's so pretty, and it's all mine, just like the dolly. You can't have either one of them. You can't take them away from me."

"Just try me."

"Oh, you can try. You can try to come and take them away from me. It will be fun. I haven't played games with you in ever so long."

"This isn't a game."

"Oh, yes, it is. Come and get it!" Drusilla crowed triumphantly, opening her hand to show a glittering object there. Cordelia was sure that Drusilla's hand had been empty a moment ago.

The rules were definitely different here. Drusilla was waving around what looked like a crystal perfume bottle, except that it glowed all by itself. Even in the commercials, Cordelia had never seen anything shine quite like this.

"Do you want him? Do you want the water of life? Then come and get it! Come and get it, come and get it, come and get it, come and get it," Drusilla repeated, giggling.

"What if I do? What if I come and get it?"

"Which one do you want? The water of life or my dolly?"

"I want both!"

Drusilla shook her head, chuckling. "I don't think so! I don't think you'll take either one away from me. He calls you a princess, but you're not. You're just a girl."

"I'm not 'just' anything."

"So you say," Drusilla taunted. "You want my dolly? You want the water of life?"

"Yeah!"

"Come and get it! Come and get it! Come and get it!"

"All right," Cordelia said. "I will."