"Iron," Alexandria stated, letting just the barest hint of amusement color her voice. None of that amusement reached her face.
Dresden just seemed to stand there, staring stupidly. She could see his pulse jump from the arteries at his throat. The air felt heavy, almost poignant, like the barometric pressure before a thunderstorm.
Iron had cropped up again. Again it had been used with a particular use in mind. A defense against others, creatures of superhuman power. Alexandria was forced to confront the validity of the idea that iron was able to serve as a ward, at least against some things in this world.
Unless a whole swathe of the powered population was deathly allergic to iron the reactions to her no-selling it didn't really make any realistic sense. She could play up the idea more, play upon her invincibility, how far above almost every other creature she had encountered she was.
She knowingly echoed her previous words, "How quaint."
Dresden's reaction was almost as interesting as the last creature to confront her with iron and with the hope that it would do something untoward.
His teeth clenched, his knuckles popping from the force of his grip on the stick in his hand.
"Was that meant to be an attack?" She asked again.
As always, there was some small glimmer of satisfaction in watching someone else on the back foot. Of outmaneuvering someone else. She had scant other hobbies that she was able to indulge in, especially since she was needed to contribute all hours of her life to the survival of the human species.
"No?" Dresden said, seeming to be asking the question of himself and marveling at his own actions.
"A test then," Alexandria stated, raising an eyebrow. A funny expression flickered over his face, self-recrimination, perhaps. Or maybe even some slight disappointment. She indulged herself by floating a little higher, making it quite obvious that she was floating under her own power.
There was no doubt in her mind that what Dresden just did could be considered an attack of some kind. He obviously did it with the intent to either rattle or otherwise disadvantage her. She highly doubted it was a lethal attack, however. After all, it was a nail. A shoddy, slightly rusted, cheap iron nail.
"Sure," Dresden agreed, bobbing his head in agreement, "Yes a test, that's exactly what that was."
His expression said that it had been something more, but he seemed momentarily reluctant to press his luck, in any case. He stepped backward, angling to get behind his desk. It was a subtle cessation of the initiative that he had apparently wanted to regain.
The question was why? The bloodstain, coupled with the wound on his hand indicated that he had been injured relatively recently, perhaps even just before she arrived. It had to have been not too long ago since the blood was still fresh. Maybe he was just jumpy and mistrustful because of a recent encounter that ended poorly.
Still, even if it was in no way her fault that he attacked her, she could be magnanimous. She knew Hero would snort if he could hear her inner thoughts right at that moment. Alexandria being magnanimous, he would say, completely crazy.
"We were both uninformed that the White Council was in town," Alexandria deigned to continue the previous conversation.
Dresden snorted, even as his eyes seemed to flicker over her body again, searching for some marking. The illusion around her body flickered in turn, and Dresden turned his head upward, away from ogling her.
"The biblical rain of toads didn't give it away?" Dresden asked, seeming to regain some of his earlier equilibrium. His tone was still, at least partially, guarded but not as belligerent.
Alexandria could appreciate that, even in someone that could become an opponent. Dresden had a spine, and seemed to handle shocks rather well. She could see that whatever purpose the iron had served, it meant Dresden's mind was already churning. The longer they talked, the more facets of her he would be able to discern.
"Frogs," Alexandria corrected.
Dresden's brow furrowed for a moment, and Alexandria amended her correction, "The Second Plague was frogs, not toads."
Dresden twitched, seemingly unsure what he was supposed to make of this new information before he just decided to sit down, his hand going for another drawer even as his office chair creaked dangerously at the sudden weight.
Alexandria allowed her gaze to travel around the room again, taking in the general slovenliness of the interior. The molded carpet, the black mold on the ceiling. The papers and letters scattered all over the room. There was an envelope marked rent, half shuffled under the desk. The window, the small window with a terrible view of the rest of Chicago was streaked and hadn't been washed in maybe a year or two. Dead bugs were gathered around the windowsill.
"I can't believe you have any clients," she said.
Dresden bristled, "I don't have time for clients, Lexy."
Alexandria's allowed her lips to purse in irritation at the nickname.
"I told the truth before," Alexandria answered instead of confronting him.
Dresden seemed momentarily confused. Then his expression cleared and she could distinctly hear in the silence a slight click. Alexandria recognized it immediately, of course, that wasn't that hard when she remembered everything she ever heard. It was the cylinder of a revolver being rotated. Dresden glanced down into his lap beneath the edge of his desk.
"Guns won't work," Alexandria informed him, not letting any amusement at his expression. If she still bothered to expend the effort to demonstrate an expression it would probably have been the self-satisfied grin of the cat that ate the canary. However, Alexandria found such juvenile demonstrations of dominance rather beneath her.
"There must've been hundreds that tried," Alexandria noted with the slightest bit of wry amusement. Tried and failed. There were so many stupid people in the world that tried even when they had to know that there would be no way they could actually harm her. Such was the hubris of fools.
Dresden made a complicated face like he didn't quite know what to think but really didn't want to give up anyway.
"Your fellow member of the White Council, Warden Baines, is alive and well," Alexandria decided to just explain the whole thing again, since Dresden seemed like he just wanted to be willingly obtuse and misinterpret everything she was saying.
"Who is Baines?" Dresden asked, seeming genuinely confused.
Alexandria noted that it was a fair point. If the White Council was even a fraction as large as the Protectorate and affiliates and was also a global organization then it would make some sense that not all members would know each other. Even if one member knew about another that was no indication it would be the same going the opposite way.
"A Warden from Wales," Alexandria elaborated, "I freed him from the Red Court trespassing within Winter."
Dresden didn't look like he was interested in budging. He looked like he was more interested in just sitting there until Alexandria did something untoward, and then he wanted to shoot her with his revolver.
"The Winter Queen saw fit to deposit us in Chicago," Alexandria continued. Now, Alexandria noted, those words certainly got a reaction. Dresden drew in a sharp breath, and his eyes narrowed, then his ire seemed to cool, a glacial expressionless mask attempting to take its place.
"Figures," Dresden grumbled under his breath, but now was watching her intently for something. His eyes kept gravitating toward her mangled eye socket, but still, he refused to meet her gaze exactly, always shying away at the last moment.
"Let me see if I got this straight," Dresden finally interrupted, skepticism coloring his tone, "You, Lexy, were just prancing about through Winter, and through the goodness of your cold heart you decided to assist this poor 'Warden Baines'?"
"More or less," Alexandria acknowledged, lips quirking upwards. She didn't quite like that Dresden had basically accused her of having a cold heart, even if she had considered it true. Others, far closer to her, had accused her of it before, and if it hadn't fazed her then, it wouldn't now.
Dresden looked heavenward as if to ask, is this my life?
"This Warden Baines is downstairs in the lobby? With thirteen thralls? Captured from the Red Court? Stars and stones," Dresden muttered, the last part, a curse of some kind uttered in an almost sotto voce.
"Why is this my problem?" Dresden finally asked as she remained in front of him, floating softly in the air.
"Baines said you had clothes I could have," Alexandria answered, letting an amused smile finally grace her face.
"Who is Baines?" Dresden muttered again, this time far more under his breath. He lurched to his feet, shoving the revolver into his waistband "Fine, I'm already late. Lead on, Lexy."
Alexandria very carefully did not frown. She was Alexandria, not Lexy.