Jonathan’s courage bottomed out. He spun on his heel, barreling into Anya, who forced him back into the room. It felt like being thrown into the lion’s cage at the zoo. Except with a million times more creepy dolls.

“They’re not snacks,” Angelus told Spike, gesturing at the door without looking back. “You think it’s a coincidence that these blood bags came in talking about the slayer and then Dru gets a vision of her? We need to know what she’s seeing.” He bent down, drawing Jonathan’s gaze to a miniature fainting couch. It was the same color and shape as the one Drusilla lay upon. A single porcelain doll was seated there. This doll, nicer than any on the walls, wore a dark pink silk dress trimmed with lace. Her blond hair was curled in the same style as Drusilla’s. Disconcertingly, her painted mouth was gagged with a red silk ribbon. Angelus handled the doll with great care, lifting it off the tiny chaise and holding it out to Drusilla. “Here you go, Dru. Why don’t you tell Miss Edith what you see? What’s coming?”

Jonathan held his breath, terrified at the idea of the doll coming to life, choking against her restraining ribbon. But Miss Edith only stared, inanimate.

Drusilla didn’t seem to notice that the doll was inert. Gripping Miss Edith’s arms, she drew the doll’s nose close to her own, transfixed by her painted eyes.

“Don’t you see, Miss Edith? The slayer is coming. And going,” Drusilla said, speaking softer for the doll’s ears. Her features flickered again and she set Miss Edith’s forehead against her own, rubbing the smooth porcelain against her vampire bumpiness. “She’s everywhere. Torturing demons and men for information. I can hear their screams echoing through time. There’s such exquisite rage in her, such hopelessness. So far from home and still running. She’s got a sack of toys like Father Christmas, but there will only be coal for presents. She means to unmake us, unravel our stitches. She’ll make it so we never are and never were.”

Jonathan didn’t like the sound of any of this. Being unmade sounded painful. He and Andrew exchanged a worried glance.

“Oh, you wicked dolly,” Drusilla said, giving Miss Edith a firm shake before plucking the ribbon off the doll’s face. It fluttered onto the floor next to Spike’s knee. “You knew, didn’t you? This is punishment for Mummy telling you to keep quiet. You’ll be pleased as punch to watch us all die, won’t you? But we’ll see who’s laughing when the slayer comes calling. You won’t exist either, my dear. We’ll all be squelched and swallowed by the great nothing.”

Angelus lifted the red ribbon, twining it between his pale fingers like a garrote. “What’s that about the great nothing? A new big, bad fellow in town?”

“Oh no,” Drusilla said, her head lolling toward Spike. Clamping down on the Krazy Straw, she sucked greedily. Pulling back to smack her lips, she sent a dreamy smile around the room. “There won’t be a town left when the slayer is done with us. She means to kill everyone in Demondale.”