Well, she was quite certain her pagan arse would burst into flames any moment. Then again, there was a part of her mind, the part that belonged to the Queen, that felt a surge of haughty pride. After all, that part of her was primeval, to say the least. Older than old. And loathe to be cowed by any angelic puffery.

But she shoved those thoughts aside. Mina's pride was bad, but the Queen's pride was worse. She knew that. And she wouldn't surrender to it so easily. Nor so foolishly.

"Doctor Mina Barrett," she replied, declining to offer him a handshake.