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praised me for a miraculous recovery. The last would have been more reassuring if it hadn’t meant I’d been in a dire condition upon arrival.
    Though tattered, my connection to Jacq was still intact. I felt her worry and tried to send a message of reassurance, grimacing as the chainsaw in my head turned into a full-scale demolition derby. Obviously, I was too weak for telepathic gymnastics because my mind again slipped away.
    When next I awoke, I first noticed the silence. The unfamiliar voices, hovering bodies, and loud beeping were gone. Somewhere in the distance, a grandfather clock softly tick-tocked the night away. I had the feeling a long time had passed. My stomach being painfully empty and my bladder painfully full were good clues. Then I felt Jacq’s absence and tensed. Upon hearing her husky voice quietly murmuring in an adjoining room, I relaxed only to tense again, realizing another woman had taken my good detective’s seat. I felt the new woman’s muted but still overwhelming demon presence. My own demon, as battered as I, didn’t react. But my visitor’s magic was an effective wakeup call, reminding me of one important fact.
    I had a grandmother.
    Or rather one in addition to the one I already knew of. My Nana was probably even now baking midnight brownies and fussing over our remaining houseguests. This new grandmother had probably never set foot in a kitchen…unless it was to issue an order. Of course, I could be stereotyping. Denoir’s Queen seemed similar to my Nana in many ways. Both had killer faces and wicked magic, the difference being that this new grandmother wanted something. Maybe not necessarily from me, but I was involved. And if she played like the big boys, my new grand ma-ma wouldn’t be sharing her plans willingly. That suspicion and the newly opened fissure in my head did not put me in the best of moods.
    I cracked my eyes, wincing as the bedside lamp’s dim light seemed to glare, and took stock. Unaware, the current subject of my ire sat in a plush armchair near the bed, silently reading with the assistance of silver-rimmed glasses. The room was dark, its furnishings outrageously luxurious, its drapes dark and thick. The air smelled of furniture polish, animal musk and spicy aftershave, but no brimstone, which meant it was only the second most hellish place I could imagine.
    Noticing my open eyes, the Queen smiled and leaned forward. “You’ve awakened.” She sounded pleased. Her silk suit rustled as she pressed a glass to my lips. “Drink this.”
    I gratefully sipped the cool water, listening to her soft words. Unlike her jester, the Queen had an Old World accent.
    “My sincerest apologies for your injuries,” she said. “Ramus, our driver, overstepped. He will be punished accordingly.”
    Surprised but not fooled by the unexpected apology, I gulped the water before pushing the glass away. “Thank you,” I said hoarsely then cleared my throat and pushed myself higher on the plush pillows, letting the soft sheets fall to my lap. “But that’s not necessary. I’m as at fault as any.” And I had enough trouble without making an enemy of the Queen’s guard.
    Denoir’s Queen frowned. “If that is your wish.” She leaned back, closing her book. Removing her glasses, she tucked them into a breast pocket then folded her hands. “I’m sure you have questions.” She paused, perhaps waiting for another no, but I wasn’t going to make things that easy. “Things you would like to know about your father, about why we are here, why we asked for this meeting.”
    I folded my own hands, cocked my head, and waited, holding my tongue. As ill-tempered and weak as I was, a heart-to-heart could easily turn into a fist to face. And since I was in no shape to duck and roll that was a monumentally bad idea.
    But she also remained silent, not taking the bait. Being a fan of awkward silences, that would have been fine, but at the moment I was in a hurry…and surprisingly not in my