November 1069

"Holy shit!" I yelled and immediately scrambled back, only to find out that I wasn't in my bed. Or rather, I was in my bed, just not the bed on the ship – I was in the bed of my room, in my house, back in Berkhamsted.

And there, just on the foot of my bed, sat Mab.

Mab wasn't exactly how I remembered her. I guess even in the case of immortal fairy-tale ur-villainesses, nine and a half centuries is a long enough time to get tired of a certain look. But even with that slight difference, the way Mab looked slightly younger and dressed slightly differently, there was no mistaking her.

She wore a long black negligee, embroidered around the edges by stretches and lines of white that were themselves highlighted by tiny snowflake patterns of frozen blue or glacial green. Its fabric rippled and draped her body perfectly, displaying and emphasizing a perfect balance of curves and planes. The gown was cut low but not extensively so, hinting more than showing. Her skin was as pale as a corpse but without any of the pallor or decay, and she wore a necklace with a single gem that glittered and cycled through deep blue and green and violet iridescence without any particular pattern. Her hair was long, flowing past her hips to pool on the covers of the bed, a stark snow-white contrast to the color of her dress.

This, more than anything, was why Lucille's attempts at seduction fell completely short. Because in comparison to Mab, simple beauty was not enough to control me. Fool and trick me for a while, sure. Not more though.

But then there were the eyes. The eyes were all wrong. Not even in the usual sense of Sidhe having unusual eyes, those of cats or serpents or other animals. Mab's were wide and vertically slitted like a cat's, which was fairly tame all things considered. Even the way they shifted colors in time with the gem around her neck was, ultimately, in line with what one could expect from the Sidhe. No, it was what I saw in those eyes, the lack of compassion or pity, the brimming curiosity and desire, that completely and utterly terrified me.

Mab arched a single, perfect eyebrow at my reaction, and the corner of her lips twitched upwards into the shadow of a smirk.

"Where am I?" I asked, glancing around my room and settling on my staff – and more importantly, my sword. "What did you do to me?"

"Why, nothing, my dear," she said. "You are simply dreaming, and I could not pass up the invitation."

"Wards are generally the exact opposite of an invitation," I said, sitting up in my bed. "And you shouldn't be able to get through my dreamwards." Especially after I started putting a lot of time and effort into improving them just for this eventuality; I no longer had a godmother to cover that front for me, after all.

"They are impressive," she allowed. "But you are not on land, not in a city, not in a room, and certainly not behind any kind of threshold. No, you are on a boat, and the night is dark, the wind biting, and the waters of the sea freezing. You came into my domain, and you did so willingly." She smiled then, a sight as horrifying as it was exciting. "However could I pass up such an invitation, Harry?"

I shivered at her use of my name. It wasn't perfect or even good, not like the time a dragon had taken half my Name and driven me to the ground with the tiniest bit of effort, but it didn't need to be. It was Mab; she was terrifying enough even when she wasn't doing anything.

"Yeah, I think I'll pass," I said, snapping out my hand and calling my sword to it. It wasn't a trick I had ever practiced before, but if I was in a dream, then dream-logic would help. And whether it did or not, my sword flew into my hand and I went to swing it around, to point it at Mab's throat – and it stopped just short as my arm simply stopped responding to me.

Mab's smile grew wider. "So defiant, and so impolite. Is appearing in someone's dreams not a sign of desire?"

"That metaphor doesn't cover invading someone's dreams," I said, trying to get my arm to move.

"No?" she asked, tapping a finger against her lips. "How dull."

"What do you want?" I asked, wondering if I would have to resort to soulfire. I really, really didn't want to do that, not in front of Mab; the odds she wouldn't recognize it were astronomically low, and then things would get very, very interesting for me. In the Chinese sense.

"You," she said, stretching out a hand and brushing one finger against the curve of my jaw.

I clenched my teeth. "Then just get it over with."

She laughed, the sound rich and cold, and she started to move, getting up on the bed and crawling over me. "My dear, if I wanted to take you, there is absolutely nothing you could do." She whispered that last part into my ear before leaning further to nip the lobe, and I shivered in a mix of desire and terror. Then she pulled back until she was just straddling me, still smiling. "But that is so… simplistic, so trivial. No, I want you to want me." She started trailing a finger down my chest. "But it has also become apparent to me that you are too honorable and traditional to fall to seduction, and so I must try another tack." She pushed my arm out of the way and forced my hand to open, dropping the sword onto the floor, and then she got up and off of me. "I think you will find it more comfortable, more familiar to pursue me. To come to me when you are ready, when you are willing, when you are…" She leaned in, enough to give me a view down her dress. "Desperate."

"And why the hell do you think I would ever do that?" I growled.

She laughed again. "Desire, my dear. Lust. Power. Frustration. Relief. Need." Her smile widened even further, to a full Cheshire grin. "I know not how you escaped my retreat, but it demonstrated a capable combination of knowledge, skill, and instinct. How painful it must be for you, to be denied the Ways. How wasteful."

"Get out of my head," I said through gritted teeth. "And stay out."

"That, I cannot promise," she said. "Only you can know what thoughts and desires pass through your head. But I will promise you this: you will not see me again, Harry, until you will it." Her tone changed then, from a sensual sort of drawl to a lustful growl. "Until you make it so."

"Get. Out."

She leaned back and laughed, and the echoes of that laughter haunted me for the rest of the night.

I woke up in a cold sweat and immediately checked my room, looking for any signs of forced entry, any disturbance in the wards. There was nothing to show that Mab had ever been there. Nothing, except a low, painful throbbing in the lobe of my left ear.

"Fucking boats," I muttered.

Did Elfleda know this was going to happen? I doubted it; she didn't seem that 'in' with the Winter Court, so to speak, and even I didn't know Mab's reach apparently extended to the ocean. Which raised interesting questions of how I ended up dying despite falling into Mab's realm back home, but those questions were really, really not important in the face of a far simpler one:

Had Elfleda betrayed me?

I didn't want to believe that, obviously, but I couldn't rule out the possibility. Maybe Mab had threatened her, maybe Elfleda had suggested a boat of her own volition knowing Mab would show up. Maybe. Or maybe Elfleda was just trying to be helpful and didn't know that Mab could bypass all my wards and defenses the moment I fell asleep on a boat. Or even the moment I set foot on a boat, depending on how I interpreted Mab's statement.

But whatever the case was with her, there wasn't anything I could do about it at the moment.

Mab was a different problem, a much more immediate and also long-term problem. Sure, Mab wouldn't appear to me anymore, but she'd said nothing about the rest of her court. She'd also only implied that if I had sex with her, I could use the Ways again; she hadn't said it. In all likelihood, if I succumbed and called her up, she would pull back Winter. For a time, anyway, until the next time she wanted sex. It was like negotiating with terrorists; you just didn't, else you legitimize them.

Admittedly, a part of me did want to take her up on the offer. I mean, sex with the most beautiful woman in the world in exchange for power? For the ability to go where I wanted, when I wanted? To not have to while away days upon days of my time traveling around? The primal part of me was all for that.

The logical part of me wasn't. I knew that if I let Mab walk over me in this instance, then that was it. Maybe not right away, maybe not for a while, but then she would know she could manipulate me. Threaten the things I wanted, the things that were important to me, and get concessions. Eventually, I'd end up her Knight again in all but name – maybe even in name. And that's not getting into the potential consequences of the act of sex itself. I'd asked around, discretely, and Maeve wasn't around right now.

I did not want to be her father.

And something she hadn't mentioned, but that became apparent with thought, was the implicit promise that I would never be free of my obligation to her until I had sex with her. Because if she wouldn't come to me unless I called, then she'd never cash in that last favor.

I was, don't pardon the expression, well and truly fucked.