The cell floor could have been a bed of nails, and I would still have slept.
"MERCY?" The voice was unfamiliar--but so was the cement under my cheek.
I stirred and regretted it immediately.
Everything hurt.
"Mercy, it is dark, and Blackwood will be here soon." I sat up and looked across the room at the oakman.
"Good evening." I didn't use his name.
Some of the fae can be funny about names, and the way Blackwood had overused it made me think that the oakman was one of those.
I couldn't thank him, and I searched for a way to acknowledge his honoring my request, but I didn't find one.
"I'm going to try something," I said finally.
I closed my eyes and called to Stefan.
When I felt I'd done as good a job at that as I could, I opened my eyes and rubbed my aching neck.
"What are you trying to do?" Corban asked.
"I can't tell you," I said.
"I'm very sorry.
But Blackwood can't know- and I'm not sure it worked." But I thought so.
I never had been able to feel Stefan like I did Adam.
If Blackwood hadn't managed to take me over ...
yet ...
that should mean Stefan could still hear me.
I hoped.
I tried touching Adam, too.
But I couldn't feel anything from him or the pack.
It was probably just as well.
Blackwood had said he was ready for werewolves, and I believed him.
Blackwood didn't come down.
We all tried not to notice Amber, and I was grateful for the coolness of the basement.
The ghosts didn't show up either.
We talked about vampires until I'd told them everything I knew in general--only leaving out the names.
Stefan also did not come.
After hours of tedium and a few minutes of embarrassment when someone had to use the buckets left for us, I finally tried to sleep again.