When Iliana had fallen asleep on one of the many large, plush couches in Thierry's Las Vegas home, she had expected to wake back up there. Or, at the most, wake up in her (guest) bed, having been picked up and carried to the more suitable locale by one of the many bodyguards there. Not Keller, of course -- her shapeshifting friend would sooner 'accidentally' smack her with a pillow to wake her up -- but any number of the others. Iliana had grown up being treated almost like glass by most people around her, and being uncovered as the Witch Child had only increased that. Not that she minded, really; all the extra attention was nice, when it wasn't focused on her blood, or dying, or killing dragons, or the whole end of the world thing. But, she supposed ties to the supernatural world and the major players in it didn't come for free.
She certainly didn't expect to wake up where she did.
Or....had she woken up at all? This all did seem rather incredibly like a dream (especially with the few familiar faces from different media she'd absorbed throughout the years. It was hard to pay attention to what Jack was saying, seeing as he was....well. What he was. And as much as she was trying to tell herself that none of this was really happening and that she'd be waking up soon (wake up, wake up!), she was most definitely getting enough touch-sensation that she was becoming more and more certain that she wasn't sleeping at all.
Where was she? This wasn't Circle Midnight's doing, and the other people around her seemed just as confused as she was. Where was Lupe? Where was Galen? Where was Keller?? Oh God, something was happening, she was not at all where she should be, and despite taking to pinching her own arm hard enough to bruise she was not waking up.
It was somewhere around the Q&A when a question was posed about eating people that her lightheadedness got the best of her and she felt things turning dark. And will all the grace of a white-blonde ragdoll, Iliana fainted, dead in the middle of the crowd.