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 to 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.”

   “Coffee date,” she said. “What is a coffee date?”

   A woman’s voice from the stairs said, “When people meet online, or in a place where they don’t know each other well, they will often make their first private meeting in a public place like a coffee shop or café. They will have coffee, or tea, and talk. If the talk goes well, then they will plan a more traditional date.”

   The woman was slender, taller than me by a few inches, but still shorter than everyone else in the room. She had soft white-blond curls spilling around her face in an artfully styled cloud that brushed her shoulder. I got to her face and had a moment of wondering if Rodrigo was cross-dressing, because the face looked identical to his, but the body underneath seemed female. Some cross-dressers are better at the switch than others, but still I was betting I was looking at his twin. She was wearing black-on-black clothing top to bottom and it looked a lot like what I normally wore to hunt vampires in, including the boots being more work than club. Her eyes looked as black as the clothing; in this light I couldn’t be certain, but I remembered staring up into her brother’s eyes and I was betting hers were as black as his. Eyeliner and mascara made her eyes look larger and even more of a contrast with her pale skin with that smattering of freckles.

   “Rodina, what are you doing here?” Keegan demanded. He seemed to demand a lot.

   “I wanted to see the witch that has made my brother so useless. I would have said that no one could move Rodrigo, not like this, so I had to come see for myself.”

   “This coffee date, why would they do such a thing?” the Wicked Bitch asked.

   “They believe that meeting in public, during the day especially, will keep them from being carried off by people who mean them harm. Dating when you are alone with someone means you have no one to come to your aid if they decide to do terrible things to you.” Somehow as Rodina said it, the likelihood of terrible things happening seemed to grow. I wouldn’t have wanted to be alone with either her or her brother.

   Those black eyes stared straight at me as she came down those last few steps and glided across the floor. She looked past her supposed queen as if she weren’t there. I met her bold gaze and said, “I bet you and Rodrigo are killers on a coffee date.”

   She smiled, pleased with herself. “We like good coffee. Be a shame to waste it on violence; so many things can get spilled.”

   “So that first date,” I said, “must be a lulu.”

   “Lulu. I haven’t heard that used in decades,” Rodina said, rolling her eyes.

   “Do not play the teenager here. You are older than I am,” Hamish said.

   “But I was a teenager when I stopped aging, when we stopped aging. I’m sorry that your master did not find you sooner, Hamish,” she said, trailing her fingers along his arm as she passed him. He turned so that he kept her in view like you did when you sparred. Once the gloves went on, all bets were off.

   “You seem not yourself, girl,” Keegan said.

   “I feel very much myself today,” she said, moving past Hamish so that she was closer to their mistress and me than anyone else.

   “Perhaps I should remind you that being too much yourself does not meet with my approval.”

   Rodina gave a small bow. “I am, as always, at your disposal, M’Lady.”

   “You know I prefer that you curtsy, even when you are dressed like a man.”

   Rodina dropped into a low, perfect curtsy, even mimicking holding a long skirt out to the sides. “As you wish, M’Lady, so shall it be.”

   The would-be queen did not offer the other woman a hand up, and by rules of etiquette Rodina was stuck in that very uncomfortable low curtsy until her mistress told her to get up or offered her a hand up. The vampire that didn’t look very much like a vampire at all turned back to me.