And ignoring them, she pinched the side of her left breast beneath her hand. It twinged, but nothing changed. Cursing to herself, she closed her eyes and willed herself awake. But when she looked again the young men stood where they had before, with the light cascading over their outlines from beyond the doorway. With a sigh, she tried to believe they could not touch her, not harm her, for she was doubtlessly asleep and they were only figments of her imagination.“Go away,” she said, “I have no need of you.”They did not vanish, nor did the room around them waver or the door disappear. All that changed was her increasing nervousness. Perspiration dewed her limbs, chilling her skin as it evaporated in the dry air.“You must come with us,” the flaxen-haired youth said. “You were brought here to serve in pleasure—you cannot resist now.”The words brought back to Gillian’s mind the offer of the Goth queen, or at least whatever dream had inspired it. She inched away from the youths until she collided with the pedestal.They bounded forward at once, grabbed her forearms, and pulled her away so quickly she had no time to struggle.
