There was one opening in the room, a rough doorway that seemed to have stairs beyond it that went up; other than that I didn't see any other doors. Unless there was a door at the top of those stairs to keep me prisoner, they were pretty confident they didn't need a door to hold me. I looked at the manacles on my wrists, because that was what they were; they didn't lock with keys but with a metal piece that slid through a hole. If I could have gotten one hand close enough to the other I could have undone them, but the chains were too widely spaced for that. I looked at the chains themselves. They were big links, like the size of a log chain, so they were big and meant for holding things a lot heavier than me. They weren't fastened to the stone ceiling but went through holes in the ceiling, which meant if someone was at the top of the room above me they'd see the chains move and know I was awake. I'd been so busy looking for modern things, I hadn't thought that old-school would work just fine.
I listened for movement that might let me know that they were coming to check on all that chain movement like a fish on a bobber, but it was quiet. I realized I could hear the sea. Dublin was a coastal city, so that shouldn't have surprised me, but somehow I thought of the room in the dream and the fact that the windows had looked out over the sea. It was as if the room in the dream were more real to me than Dublin and that one glimpse of the Irish Sea. I had a second to wonder if this was still a part of that dream, and then I smelled the damp and the mustiness of the room. I breathed deeper and could smell the saltier freshness of the sea air. You couldn't smell things when you were dreaming. I hugged that fact to myself, because it helped me not worry about the whole dream-versus-reality thing. I'd treat it as real until I knew I was wrong.
I heard voices on the stairs. I debated on pretending to still be unconscious, but I'd just gotten the feeling back in all my extremities, and besides, no one coming through the doorway would be human. They'd be able to tell if I was asleep just by my breathing and heart rate. There was really no sense in pretending, so I was standing, waiting, when Hamish came through the doorway, but he wasn't with Rodrigo anymore. The man with him was tall, dark, and not handsome. He wasn't ugly, but he wasn't pretty either. It was like he had several great features, but they didn't all belong on the same face at the same time.
He was definitely not handsome, but something about the way he carried himself as he entered the room made you want to look at him. There was an energy to him that made Hamish easy to overlook, which would have been a mistake, because the flashiest person in the room isn't always the most dangerous.
I caught a glimpse of white behind the second man, and it was the Wicked Bitch herself in person at last. She was wearing the same dress she'd worn in the dream, but it wasn't the shining perfection it had been. The dress had dirt on the hem from the rough stone floor, or maybe she'd gone for a stroll outside. She was still beautiful and sort of exotic, for lack of a better word, but it wasn't heavenly light and fireworks in the real world.
The two men took up posts on either side of her, but a little in front, so they were between her and me. I wasn't sure if they were afraid I'd hurt her, or she'd hurt me, but they were definitely placed so they could keep us apart if need be. Interesting.
"Anita Blake, we meet at last."
"I was thinking almost the same thing, though I don't know what name you prefer," I said.
"M'Lady will do."
"You called me by my Christian name and surname. Seems like using a nickname would be too informal after that." I didn't want to call her M'Lady. Maybe just stubbornness on my part, but I didn't want to use the name she forced people to use.
"You are very calm for someone who awoke in chains," she said, searching my face for some hint of what I was really thinking.
I tried to shrug but mainly made the chains rattle. "Not being calm won't change anything."
"Such possession of self is rare."
"Thank you," I said.
"I hope you do not mind the change of clothes, but your others had become quite . . . disheveled."
"I appreciate your thoughtfulness," I said. I'd shared enough of Damian's memories to know that being nice to her was my best chance at not getting hurt. It might also make her more talkative, and I needed more information. Where was I? What day was it?
She watched me with those pale blue eyes that she'd worked so hard to make bluer in our shared dream. "There is no fear in you now. Perhaps I have been too generous and should have hung you up nude."
"I said Thank you."
She frowned.
"Allow me, mistress," the second man said.
"Not yet, Keegan." She walked closer until she was only about two feet in front of me. I could have kicked her, but I didn't see what it would gain me. They hadn't hurt me yet; if I hurt them first that would probably change.
"As my mistress wills," he said, but his face showed a sour disappointment. Whatever he had offered, he enjoyed doing, and I would probably not enjoy it at all.
"The first time I touched your energy through our shared vampire, you were nearly helpless before my terror. Now you stand before me and there is no fear in you. How can this be?"
I just looked at her, willing myself to be calm and patient, and wait. I wasn't sure what I was waiting for, but I was hoping I'd know it when it happened.
"Lay your hands upon her, mistress, and her calm will shatter," Keegan said.
"I would not recommend that, M'Lady," Hamish said.
She turned and looked at Hamish. "Why should I not touch her?"
"You have both drunk deep of the powers of the Queen of All Darkness."
"What of it?"
"Her powers will grow with touch as well. I told you what she did t
o Rodrigo."
I so wanted to ask what I had done to Roddy, but I didn't. They'd assume I knew exactly what I did, and either they wouldn't believe me or they'd know just how new I was to some of my powers.
"He is weak of will," Keegan said.
"Rodrigo is petty, cruel, and nearly honorless, but he is not weak," Hamish said.
"Are you saying I am no stronger than Rodrigo?" she demanded.
Hamish bowed and said, "I would never say that, M'Lady. We are all your humble servants and pale in comparison to your greatness."
I half-expected her to call bullshit on the pretty speech, but she didn't. She seemed to take it as her proper due. "Then I will put the fear of me into her."
"I advise against it," he said.
"You dare to doubt our Queen," Keegan said.
"I never doubt the Queen of Nightmares, or we would not have come halfway around the world to serve her."
"Then watch and learn," Keegan said.
She reached one pale hand toward me. I waited for her to hesitate at the sunlight, but she didn't. She moved through it as if she'd never seen a vampire go up in flames from it before. She touched my face and it took a lot not to pull away, but I knew that would amuse her and I didn't want to amuse anyone here.
She caressed my cheek and said, "Such a pretty girl. I normally don't think dark hair and eyes are striking, but you are quite lovely."
"Thanks, you too--on the lovely part, I mean. You're as pale as I am dark." I remembered through Damian's memories and Asher's story that she was very insecure, insanely insecure. When dealing with a crazy person, it's always safer to go along with the delusion, as far as you can. If she wanted to be the fairest of them all, I would be her biggest cheerleader.
"We would make a fine pair of opposites for some man's bed, you and I." I didn't like that idea at all; I fought not to show it but apparently failed, because she smiled and said, "That bothers you. I would have thought that sex would not bother you, being of Jean-Claude and Belle Morte's bloodline."
I tried to think of a polite way to put it, still trying not to trip her crazy. "We just met. I like to get to know someone before I have sex with them. You know, at least a coffee date."