“You may as well be comfortable and sit. You’ll wear yourself out, and we’ve barely begun.”
I strain for a moment longer until I realize the door behind him has disappeared once more. I slump down to the couch, sitting on my hands to keep them away from the tea.
“I should very much like to wake up now,” I say to no one in particular, because I am done dealing with this nightmare.
“It is a puzzle,” the nightmare man says, and I avoid looking at him by staring at the bookshelves and trying to determine why they unnerve me so. “I can’t understand why he would notice you. You’re utterly without potential for a man like him.”
I count the spines: twenty-five across. I count the same row again: thirty-three. Again: twenty-seven. And yet I can detect no movement, no change.
“How did you catch Lord Ackerly’s affections?”
He succeeds in yanking back my attention. “Is he going to show up, too? This dream keeps getting worse.” I’ve reached for the teacup again. Furious with myself, I swipe it off the table to the floor. There. No more tea to tempt my wayward hands.
“It is puzzling. I shouldn’t think a girl like you would be more than a trifle to him. Poor Lord Ackerly, my great challenge. He’s been untouchable all this time, only to trip and drop the key to his undoing.”
My head aches where the silver comb is digging into my scalp, and I reach back to pull it out. Several hairs come away with it. I pull them free from the comb’s prongs. Wake up, wake up.
“Give them here,” he says, holding out his hand, and I’ve placed the hairs there before I can stop myself. “Let’s add them to the collection, shall we?” He opens a polished ebony box and places the hairs gently next to my blue ribbon and the strands already there.
“That’s mine.”
“I am pleased to see my taste is impeccable. The dress was the final test for Ackerly.” He reaches out and fingers the gauzy material of my skirts, and my stomach turns.
I think perhaps this is real, and I wish, oh, how I wish it were a nightmare.
He continues. “I couldn’t know whether you were important enough to work, whether our coldhearted friend had fallen far enough to care. It seemed improbable. But shadows never lie, and the way you looked last night sealed his fate. For that I thank you.” He bends and takes my ungloved hand in his, bringing it to his lips. His mouth on my skin feels so cold it burns, or so hot it freezes. I cannot tell the difference.
“Please.” I hate the way the word tastes in my mouth directed at him. “I want no part in any issue between you and Finn—Lord Ackerly—whoever he is. He is nothing to me and I assure you I am less than nothing to him.”
“Oh, little rabbit.” He sits back in his chair across from me, and I find I can breathe easier again. “You have no idea what he’s pulled you into, do you?”
“No, and I should like very much to leave now.”
“Not just yet, I’m afraid. You missed your chance to avoid all this last night. I gave you the option, you know.” He picks up the sugar dish and carefully pours a small pile of the crystals into his palm. As they touch his skin, they turn from white to gleaming black. He traces a circle with them, and then cuts the circle evenly down the middle. The room brightens to an almost painful degree of brilliance. The light is coming from my right side, throwing our shadows into sharp relief along the wall.
“Please join us, Lord Ackerly.” The man throws the crystals at my shadow, and there is a hiss like water hitting fire. My shadow splits in two.
I put my hand to my mouth, but my second shadow does not follow the movement. It’s not my shadow. The shoulders are angled, the body smooth, the head free of long hair. I look to my right, but no one is there.
I close my eyes, try to force reality back into place. I must be drugged. “What have you given me?”
“You didn’t prepare her at all, did you, Lord Ackerly? This will be a hard initiation. As a kindness, I’ll use a method she’ll understand, something she will not be able to dismiss as a trick of her mind.” Cold glee undercuts his voice. “Please remember that you brought this on her. You thought you could have her. You can’t. And now that I know you’re observing us, it’s time to set the terms. You will give me access to the Hallin book, and you will give it to me immediately.”
My eyes open again, and I can no longer hide my terror. “Please, please. I have nothing. There’s nothing for me to give you.”
“Not you. Him.” He waves cheerily at my second shadow, then pulls out a hammer, the head heavy and battered, the handle worn and plain. It’s out of place in this elegant room, a blunt instrument with nothing but utility built into its design. He swings it experimentally through the air, nods, and then places it next to the floral china of the tea set.
“Dear little rabbit, if you’d place your hand on the table.”
I look at him in horror. “I will not.”
The other shadow looms even larger on the wall. The nightmare man smiles. “You will.”
My hand snakes forward of its own accord, and I grab it with my free hand, the one still gloved. I am pulled off the couch to the rug beneath, wrestling with my own possessed limb.
“That’s a good girl. Keep fighting me.” The nightmare man takes more sugar. He traces something on his palm that I cannot see, and then sprinkles the bloodred crystals onto my head.
I release my hand, and it pulls itself forward to the center of the table, lying flat with fingers evenly spread. I’m on my knees, unable to move, eye level with the hammer. He picks it up, and his smile does not fade a fraction as he says, “I am sorry about this.”