"More than empty air," said Drusilla.

The tentacle curled around the steak and whisked backward, out of the room.

"My darling pet is pleased," she said. Drusilla tapped the fingers of one hand against the table. "You'd blackmail me? Tell Dean Bristow I'm a bad, naughty girl who needs to be punished? And in return, what? Never let the ocean lap at their feet again?"