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I enforce the will of Winter. I killed an entire race of vampires single-handedly. My actions led to the deaths of three immortal Fae Queens. I broke into Hades’ vault and stole four Holy relics. I am Warden of a prison housing some of the most powerful supernatural beings in existence. I bound the last of the Titans to my will. I have raised the dead. I have an army of Little Folk at my beck and call. I have the ear of an archangel, when it suits him. I was once a wizard, until my actions terrified the White Council and they kicked me out.
I’m also a dad.
Hi, I’m Harry Dresden, warlock.
*
I’d put off visiting Thomas long enough. Maggie had been my last excuse, and now that she was safely at St. Mark’s Academy, there was no longer a reason to prevent me from going. But I wasn’t going alone. Or… at least I didn’t want to go alone.
Marcone, when he left me his castle, had removed everything save the exercise equipment and any mirrors secured to the walls. He’d even taken the phones, which meant I’d had to ask Will to search thrift stores to find one. While the older, non-battery powered push-buttons would work, I preferred rotary phones. It was always amusing to watch kids from younger generations try to figure out how to use them.
Will had dug up one in office chic beige, which was set on the kitchen counter. I petted Mister for a minute, enjoying his rumbling purr under my hand, then sighed and lifted the receiver.
“Ms. Raith’s office,” answered a woman whose voice I didn’t recognize. Her secretary had been Justine but… not any more.
“I’d like to speak to Ms. Raith. Tell her it’s Harry Dresden calling about her brother.”
“One moment, please.”
The line broke into static; a not-uncommon occurrence for me. I didn’t know Lara had picked up until I heard, “-arry? Are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” I replied as the static died down.
“You have news of Thomas?”
“Not as such, no. Would you like to come with me to see him?”
There was a pause from the other end of the phone line. “To the island?” Lara finally asked.
“To the island.”
“Then it is fortuitous I am already in Chicago this morning. I shall meet you at the dock in one hour.”
I’d assumed she was at Château Raith, because that’s the number I called. But I always forgot about cell phones (since as a wizard I can’t use them), and how easy it was to transfer a call to one.
“One hour, then.”
*
The Water Beetle, my brother’s boat, sat in the water looking as shabby as ever. One of these days we need to get it repainted. I mean, the thing had survived a kraken; it deserved to look better than this.
I climbed aboard, prowling through the cabin belowdecks. I was surprised to find it neat and tidy, despite the clean-up Lara and Freydis needed on the ride back from the island. Then, reluctantly, I went back up to the wheelhouse. The last place I’d been able to hold Murphy, back when the world was quiet, before everything fell apart.
Back when she’d been alive.
It didn’t affect me as badly as I’d feared. Other than the memory, there was nothing of Murphy on board, nothing she’d left behind. “I miss you, Murph,” I said to the shadow that only existed in my head.
Lara was punctual. A little before ten I heard footsteps heading my direction. The Water Beetle was moored alongside the end of the dock, rather than in a berth, so I was able to watch her approach through the side windows.
Her long black hair was loose, the breeze catching strands playfully. My eyebrows raised at her clothing: a short-sleeve blouse in black covered in crimson, yellow and white flowers, jeans, and sneakers. I’d never really seen Lara dress down before.
The ring on her finger glinted in the sun, and I ground my teeth. It was an engagement ring, one I’d given her in full view of the Winter Court to include its ruling Queen. I’d been backed into a corner once again, and only Lara’s intervention saved me from making the fatal mistake of insulting the Winter Queen. How Lara had intervened had been a subject of many dreams since then, dreams that left me exhausted, heartsick over my betrayal of Murphy, and… very satisfied.
I tried to think of anything but the way Lara’s hips swayed as she walked out on the dock to meet me. “Like what you see?” she asked, hands on those same hypnotic hips, pale arms flawless in the sun. I forced my libido down, along with the Mantle’s excellent idea of tackling her and ripping all her clothes off.
“Never seen you in jeans before,” I replied, acting nonchalant. I doubt I fooled her.
Lara laughed, a rich, throaty sound that revved up my hormones once more. “The last time you took me to the island, I ended up covered in mud and ruined my pants. I thought this trip I’d be more prepared. Permission to come aboard?”
“Granted.”
She untied the lines and tossed them into the boat. Then, as I expected, she leapt from the dock to the deck without the need for the gangplank. Her landing was soundless. She walked around the wheelhouse and out to the front railing, then looked back, eyebrows raised in question.
I sighed and started up the Water Beetle's engine; it’s familiar chugging was almost a welcome home. It was old, diesel, and would run even with a wizard on board, provided I didn’t push it too hard. I increased the throttle, turned the wheel, and we made our way slowly through the harbor and out into the lake. It’d take the better part of an hour to reach the island; the Water Beetle wasn’t going to win any speed awards.
We’d traveled a few miles east of Chicago when Lara made her move. One moment, she was standing at the railing staring into the distance, the next, pressed up against me. A small, wickedly curved knife was held to my throat as she forced me away from the wheel.
Hell’s bells, she’d moved so fast, and my guard had been down.
Stupid, trusting a vampire. I could hear Ebenezar laughing in the back of my mind.
“I told you one day I would have the upper hand,” she snarled.
I could’ve burned a hole in her chest. I could’ve frozen her, then blasted her into tiny pieces. I could’ve used enough force to fling her a hundred yards into the lake. I could’ve done a lot of things, and this close, the Mantle was imagining several of them in exquisite detail. Details that involved blood, and sex, and pain, and not necessarily in that order.
But over water, my power was greatly diminished to the point of almost nonexistent, and I was too far away to access the island’s defenses. Before I could think of an alternative, the razor-sharp steel pierced my skin and agony drove me to my knees. The Winter Mantle gave me power, but just like Superman, I had my own kryptonite. Iron, even in the form of steel, is the bane of all Fae.
She followed me down, a second, smaller knife stabbing into my calf.
I cried out. Pain swarmed through me as I collapsed to the deck, hands fumbling for the knife. Lara secured both wrists and pinned my arms behind me. Even through the static shock of pain, I was acutely aware of her breasts pressed to my back, how they moved as she breathed. And even then, my body howled with excitement and lust, wanting her. That desperation intensified as her sexual pull increased.
Sex and pain. I wanted it all.
“You lied to me, and my brother suffered for it,” she purred, her breath puffing against my cheek.
I shuddered, grinding my hips involuntarily into the deck. “Lara,” I choked out, which was all I could manage. While I couldn’t see her, I imagined her eyes shining silver, bright with hunger.
Then she kissed my ear, sucking on the earlobe and scraping the barest hint of teeth across it.
I bucked beneath her, maddened by the need to grab, to touch, to caress, but she was a vampire and as immovable as three tons of rock. The intense physical pleasure added to my pain, intertwining into something that transcended words. Every nerve lit up with ecstasy, building to an explosive climax that I couldn’t control. I moaned and writhed and thrust uncontrollably and never wanted it to end.
“Remember this, wizard,” she hissed.
And then everything stopped.
The knife was gone, Lara was gone, and I was face-down, shuddering at the cessation of sensation. I hadn’t quite reached the apex of physical bliss, so that was something, I supposed. I slowly pushed myself to my knees, assessing the situation.
Lara was back at the railing, as if she’d never moved.
The hole in my calf was bleeding, but little enough that my jeans soaked it up. The wound on my neck was so shallow it’d already scabbed over. I rocked back on my heels and stood, letting the Mantle tamp down the pain.
Hell’s bells.
“I want that knife,” I said, my voice not nearly as steady as I’d hoped.
She glanced over her shoulder, raised an eyebrow, mouth turned up in a hint of a smile. “Is that all you want?”
Of course it wasn’t. The ache of sexual frustration was amplified by the Mantle, and the physical response to it still quite obvious. Her eyes strayed down to my crotch, then back up. The smile grew.
“I can help you with that, you know.”
As I didn’t have a glass of ice water handy to dump inside my jeans, I had to settle for pushing the lust down, as far as it would go. “The knife, Lara.”
This time she turned around completely, holding up a knife. “This one?” The tip was coated with my blood. “Ah, the blood, I see.” She held it to her lips, and her tongue languorously traveled the length of the blade.
Nothing should be as erotic as that was.
Images burst into my mind, of other places that tongue could be. Of other things that tongue could be doing. My heart pounded in my ears, a drumbeat echoed by the Mantle, and had Lara been within reach… my control only extends so far. I’m just a man, and mortal, and she a succubus with centuries of practice.
“Satisfactory?” She flipped the blade between her fingers. Not a drop of blood remained that I could see.
I nodded, hands clenched on the wheel as I tried to wrestle my hormones into submission.
We hadn’t gone much off course, my sense of the island told me. The Water Beetle tended to go in a straight line once pointed in a direction. I made a slight adjustment with the wheel and ignored Lara.
I had treated her similarly on the island, when I’d sentenced Thomas to Demonreach. She thought I’d killed her brother, and I used the island’s defenses to immobilize her before she had a chance to do the same to me.
Did this show of power balance the scales in her mind? I had no idea. But it was a wake-up call in more ways than one. I’d become complacent, forgetting she was a predator higher up the food chain than I was. I’d even, over the past few weeks, entertained ideas of what it’d be like to be married to her.
Foolish, foolish boy. Ebenezar again. And he wasn’t wrong. I’d been treating her as human, and she was anything but.
The anger, mostly at myself, seethed internally. I had a few fantasies of planting a shoe in Lara’s back and kicking her overboard.
“The matter is settled between us,” Lara said, loud enough I could hear her over the engine, though she didn’t bother to turn around.
And I didn’t bother to reply.
*
“I do not like the feeling of this island.” Lara shaded her eyes as we approached the floating dock that Thomas and I built. I could feel the presence of Demonreach, and the disapproval towards my passenger.
“It doesn’t like you much, either,” I snapped. Yeah, I was still a little punchy after Lara’s display.
She turned around to look at me, but I was focused on steering the Water Beetle, trying not to ram the boat into the dock or run aground. Thomas had showed me enough to operate it, but I was no sailor. Had the weather today been anything but sunny with a slight breeze, I doubt I would’ve attempted the crossing on my own.
We bumped against the dock and I cut the engine. Before I could say a word, Lara vaulted over the side, securing the boat.
As soon as I stepped off the dock, I felt the island welcome me. In that instant, I knew every rock, every tree, every living thing present. Other than the animals that made the island their home, we were alone.
The power of Demonreach thrummed through my shoes as I began to walk. Lara followed me towards the lighthouse, where hidden stairs would take us into the depths of the prison Demonreach protected. We were about halfway there when the guardian of the island appeared through the trees.
The being I called Alfred was twelve feet tall, a gigantic figure shrouded by a black cloak that left only burning green eyes visible in its shadowy depths. Despite my intellectus, Alfred was able to hide its approach from me, which always made me wonder what else it was hiding.
“WARDEN,” it said.
“Alfred. Here for a bed check.”
It turned slightly towards Lara. “DO YOU WISH CONTAINMENT FOR THIS ONE?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. How is Thomas?”
“YOUR BLOOD KIN REMAINS AS HE WAS.” Which meant no worse, but no better.
“Can you grant Lara the ability to hear him, as I can?”
Alfred stared at her for a long moment. “YES.”
“Then please do so.”
“IT IS DONE.” The guardian vanished between the trees.
“What do you mean, hear him?” Lara asked. There was the tiniest quiver of fear in her voice. Alfred had that effect on people, as did the island in general. It was built to contain the nastiest monsters of nightmare imaginable. The occupants in the prison, along with the island itself, added up to a sense of malevolence that affected most people when approaching Demonreach.
There was a reason planes avoided flying overhead.
Because I was Warden, I felt none of it. I was responsible for every being incarcerated here, had psychically inventoried all but a few hundred out of the six thousand or so by going through memories of their crimes. And because I was Warden, they were able to speak to me, when I chose to listen. Usually it was promises of pain, or death, though a few resorted to begging.
“You’ll see,” I told Lara; it would be faster to show her than explain, and I strode across the island with confidence. I knew exactly where to place my feet without having to think about it. Lara, while she didn’t have that same knowledge, kept up with me easily. Because, hey, vampire.
We reached the base of the lighthouse, and I pulled power to open the stairway. Lara peered into the opening at our feet; only a few stairs were visible until it turned sharply out of sight. A dim green glow lit the passageway just enough to see by, but I’d lived on this island for a year, taken these stairs countless times. I didn’t need light at all, though walking into the depths of the island, in the dark, with a vampire at my back, wouldn’t have made for the most pleasant of experiences.
“Thomas is down there?”
“Yep.”
She was quiet for a few minutes while we descended. “What is Demonreach?”
“It’s a prison, built to contain the monsters that give other monsters nightmares. There are several naagloshii here, and they’re held in the minimum security wing. That should give you an idea of the kind of beings that populate the prison.”
“And you control all of it?” She sounded impressed.
“I’m the Warden. Alfred controls it.”
“But you control Alfred.”
I sighed. “We came to a mutual understanding.”
“This is what happened to the Titan, isn’t it? She’s down here, somewhere.”
“Somewhere,” I agreed. I could sense her, two thousand, seven hundred and fifty-four feet down tunnel five, raging at her confinement, but there was no danger of her escaping. Demonreach had been built to contain beings far stronger than Ethniu. Her Eye was also on the island, hidden by Alfred at my request. I had no idea where, nor did I want to. That much power in anyone’s hands was too much temptation.
Deep in the reaches of my mind, I had a suspicion one day I’d need to free the inmates in order to fight against the adversary. I had seen the gates and the forces of Winter that held them back. Unleashing a Titan with her Eye on them? Perhaps it could put an end to the endless war.
The creature is bound to you, Warden. Your will can compel her now. The power of a Titan, at your beck and call.
Mab’s words echoed in my head. It was possible; tricky and treacherous, probably suicidal, definitely insane, but wizards have controlled powerful supernatural beings before. And what wouldn’t I do to protect my friends? Family? Maggie?
That’s how the road to Hell starts, with good intentions.
I was mortal once, you know. Mab had told me that after her daughter died. Someday, that could be me if I wasn’t very, very careful.
We finally reached the bottom, a small chamber whose only other exit was a door surrounded by stones. I stepped up to it, then glanced back at Lara.
“Turn around.” She narrowed her eyes, staring at me for a moment before complying. “Infriga,” I whispered, creating a thick icy fog between us to block her view of what I was doing. I quickly unlocked the door, touching the stones in the sequence Alfred had shown me. Only once it opened did I let the fog dissipate.
“Let’s go.”
“Was that really necessary, Dresden?” Lara asked, falling into step behind me.
“Absolutely.”
She laughed low in her throat, and I shivered at the sound.
I knew where Thomas was, just as I knew he was semi-conscious, aware of what was going on around him but in an almost dreamlike state. I led Lara past crystal growths and down tunnel nine, grabbing her wrist when she tried to stop to get a better look at another inmate. “Don’t.”
She opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again with a faint nod.
Thomas was in the minimum security wing, though far from the other prisoners. I looked down at my brother, encased in glowing green crystal, sensing his discomfort, his bone-deep exhaustion, and his pain through the intellectus of the island. I could shut it off if I wanted to, but Thomas deserved more than that.
“Thomas?” Lara whispered, finally seeing the face below us. She dropped to her knees as his eyes fluttered open; I joined her on the floor, sitting cross-legged.
Lara? His eyes flicked to me. Harry. He wasn’t speaking words exactly, but voicing his thoughts, which is why Lara needed Alfred’s assistance to hear him. The discomfort was more acute, and he winced. It hurts…
“I’m sorry for that. Your Hunger was killing you, and, well… I didn’t know what else to do. At least here you’re safe. No one will find you, and it’ll give us time to figure out how to save you.” I placed a hand on the crystal. “I won’t lose you, not now. Not when it took so long to find you.”
Justine. He took a shuddering breath. Justine is… I have to…
“We know she’s infected, Thomas,” Lara said. “We know she’s the reason you tried to kill Etri. She escaped, and we’re still looking for her.”
Thomas’ eyes widened. Don’t… don’t…
“We won’t kill her,” I assured him. Lara, thankfully, didn’t contradict me. But I had no idea what we’d do when we found her. Justine wasn’t just infected. She was He Who Walks Beside. I’d fought Walkers before, and trying to subdue her without anyone dying would be difficult. And then what? Lock her up until she gave birth and turn her over to Mab? She was the only one I knew of who’d successfully cured someone, but Justine was human. Surviving Mab’s cure might do worse than kill her.
There was also a fifty percent chance that Justine’s body wouldn’t survive her pregnancy, thanks to the nature of the child she carried.
Then a thought hit me. Would the child be infected as well?
My brother closed his eyes. I had to relive everything… everything I have done. Bloody tears a shade too pale to be human squeezed out between his lashes. So much pain… Lara’s hand joined mine on the crystal.
“I know. I’m sorry,” I apologized again, which wasn’t nearly enough.
How… how long?
“Not quite three months since the battle. Surprise, we won.”
His eyes blinked open, unfocused. Battle?
“Hell’s bells… I forgot… this happened after you…”
Lara stepped in. “The last of the Titans paid Chicago a visit along with a significant Fomor army. As Harry said, we won, but it was not without cost. Tens of thousands of people died, and parts of the city destroyed. Even now, power is problematic.”
Oh. He sighed, closing his eyes once more. Glad… we won… and he drifted off.
“He’s sleeping,” I told Lara.
“What are we going to do about this?” she snapped, still staring at Thomas.
I, too, stared down at my brother, taking in his gaunt face, the way the skin pulled tight over his skull. The Hunger inside had healed most of the injuries he’d suffered at the svartalves’ hands, but without the ability to feed, had started cannibalizing its host instead.
“Mab told me once that had I not chosen to become the Winter Knight, she would’ve offered it to Thomas.”
I felt Lara look at me, but she said nothing.
“She could do it, I think. Heal him, provided she had enough incentive. For Thomas to take up the Mantle, he’d need to be healed. She fixed my broken back in exchange for it, and while this is more extreme… I don’t believe it’s outside of what she’s capable of.” I gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Thomas would have to kill me, of course. That’s how the Mantle passes between Knights. To be honest, he’d probably make a better union of Winter and the White Court than us marrying. He’d be bound to Winter by the Mantle, and to you by blood.”
I let out a long sigh. “I’ve thought about it, to save him. Had it just been me, my life, I’d probably try. But…” I trailed off.
“Your daughter,” Lara said softly.
“My daughter,” I agreed. “I have lived most of my life without my father, and I never want that for her. She deserves more than self-sacrifice from me. She deserves to have a father who loves her.”
She sighed, dropping her eyes to Thomas once more. “He wouldn’t agree to that, you know. He cares for you too much. Perhaps there is something else we could bargain with for Mab’s assistance.”
I rubbed my eyes. “If you have any idea what that might be, I’m all ears. Because I haven’t come up with anything else that would balance the scales. She already owns me, and I will never offer up my daughter to her. Which doesn’t leave me with anything of value.” Well… there was Bob. He said Mab regarded him as an enemy, even after I’d learned that immortals could be killed by mortal means on Halloween. Would giving him to her be enough?
Bob was a spirit of intellect, for centuries passed down from wizard to wizard. He wasn’t human, and he wasn’t my friend, and yet… he was my friend. I couldn’t sacrifice him for my brother, any more than I could give her Maggie.
Lara caressed the crystal once more. “I will think on it.”
“In the meantime, Marcone says he has something to discuss regarding Thomas.”
“Is that what Marcone wanted in the park,” she said thoughtfully. It wasn’t a question.
I looked at her, hard. “How do you know about that?”
“My brother’s life depends on your well-being. I have taken certain measures to prevent anything… untoward… from happening to you.”
“Like having me followed.” And I hadn’t even noticed.
Lara shrugged, as graceful as she did everything else. “If you prefer to think of it that way. They are merely protecting my investment.”
This is what you are to her, Harry. An investment, just like a stud horse. Molly hadn’t been wrong.
It was better to drop the subject completely before it pissed me off more than it already had. “I arranged a meeting for us later today.”
“You want me there with you.” Lara sounded surprised.
“Of course. He’s your brother, too. You have a right to hear what Marcone has to say.”
“And it never hurts to bring a vampire to the party.”
“Exactly.”
*
The return trip was how I’d pictured the trip out: I piloted the boat and Lara ignored me. But when we approached the harbor, she came into the wheelhouse. This close, I felt her sexual pull as I always did, pleasure sliding over my skin, caressing those places that made me sit up and take notice. It was part and parcel of what she was, a human hosting a parasite with an insatiable appetite for lust.
“I will not apologize for what I did,” Lara said, meeting my eyes. “There was a balance between us, and being on this boat brought up memories I’d chosen to forget. But perhaps this was not the best time or place for it.” She wasn’t vindictive, but she wasn’t wrong, either.
“Actually, I should thank you for that. You reminded me of what you are, and just how much trust I’d extended to you. I won’t make that mistake again.” My voice filled with cold, hard anger.
For a brief instant, tears glimmered in her eyes. I’d hurt her. I immediately wanted to fall to my knees and beg her forgiveness, but not because of the Mantle. No, this was my chivalrous nature rising up, the part of me that couldn’t bear to see a woman hurt so callously.
Great, Harry. You’ve made a vampire cry. Again.
Lara blinked, and the tears were gone, though she turned away from me. “A wise decision,” she replied.
She secured the boat to the dock and was gone before I shut off the engine. Unlike Lara, I chose to use the gangplank; I could vault over the boat’s railing if I wanted to (parkour!), but figured why subject my battered body to more stress.
Lara was waiting by her Silver Wraith, the car she sometimes used. It wasn’t parked far from my Munstermobile. “What time is the meeting with Marcone?”
“At three.”
A smile touched her lips. “We have a few hours until then. Would you care to join me for lunch?”
I looked at her, wondering what schemes she had behind those seemingly guileless gray eyes.
“You do still eat, do you not?”
My stomach rumbled, reminding me I hadn’t had anything since the scrambled eggs I’d scarfed down early this morning. I waved a hand. “Sure. Fine. Whatever.”
Her smile grew. “Excellent. Give me a moment to change.”
Change?
She sequestered herself inside the Wraith, whose windows were tinted darkly enough that I couldn’t see in with the bright sun overhead. When she opened the door and stepped out… this was the Lara I’d expected on the dock.
She’d changed into a sleeveless cream silk blouse and black skirt that ended just below her knees, and shiny black heels that added an inch to her height. Her hair was pulled effortlessly into a knot at the base of her neck.
Was I drooling? I surreptitiously wiped the corner of my mouth, just in case.
“Care to join me?” She gestured to the Wraith. “It would be easier to leave your car here. I can’t imagine how you manage to find parking for that behemoth downtown.” It was annoying, but she was right.
“Why not?”
*
River North, unlike some of downtown’s neighborhoods, had been largely unscathed by the battle. Ethniu and her army had come from the lake, and much of the fighting concentrated on the adjacent streets. Most of the buildings she’d destroyed had been along Lake Shore Drive.
We were dropped off at The Junction, a corner restaurant on the ground floor of a 15-story building. Being lunch hour it was crowded, but the hostess greeted Lara by name, and we were quickly ushered to a table near the back of the room and up several stairs.
It was nice place without the ostentation I’d feared, the menu a mix of fancy American-style food.
I would’ve preferred one of Mac’s steak sandwiches and an ale.
But they had a burger that wasn’t a bad substitute. I’d just taken a large bite when I felt Lara’s hand on my thigh. I froze. She squeezed my leg gently as she leaned towards me, kissing my cheek.
Pleasure spiraled out from where her lips met my skin, coalescing somewhere low in my gut. This wasn’t the naked lust I usually felt from her touch; it went deeper, into a desire so painful I could scarcely breathe.
I dropped the burger, nearly choking on my food before managing to swallow it.
“What the hell, Lara?” My brain came up with words without having to think. Which was somewhat of a miracle, because I couldn’t think. All I could do is want, and need, and my hands clenched futilely on empty air.
She backed off and withdrew her hand without a word, though her sensuous lips continued to smile. Lips I wanted to kiss until they were swollen.
Not now. Not ever. Fighting her off was like trying to stop a tsunami with a shovel. So I beat the Mantle with it instead, and my hormones along with it. I had no idea what game she was playing at, but by God I wasn’t going to play along. I pulled on the power of Winter, cooling the air around us considerably. It gave me something else to focus on other than Lara, and helped drench the heat suffusing my skin.
The water in my glass froze solid, the burger on my plate coated with frost.
“You should thank me. I just made sure that the Winter Queen considers this one of our ‘public outings.’” She barely breathed the words.
My hands were still shaking, and I didn’t answer her. Not for several long minutes while I fought for control, using meditation exercises I normally reserved for spellcasting.
“Warn me next time,” I ground out between my teeth. I wasn’t sure what good that would do, knowing my body’s instant responses to her, but at least I wouldn’t be caught off guard.
“It would not have looked as real for the camera,” she replied, head bowed.
Camera?
I turned to look over my shoulder. We were seated next to a window, one that was a good ten feet above street level, one that had no blinds or curtains to obscure the view. If a photographer had the right angle, with a telephoto lens, they would’ve had the perfect shot of that kiss.
Hell’s bells. I wanted to be furious with Lara but… I had to hand it to her, she always planned several moves ahead. Mab had stipulated a certain number of ‘public outings’ as she called them, which when translated into human meant dates. This wasn’t a date, this was just a convenient lunch on the way to a meeting, yet Lara turned it to her advantage.
Then I blinked in shock. No, not to her advantage. Mine. I was the one fighting against the impending marriage, not her. That she did this out of the kindness of her heart was laughable; Lara did things that benefited Lara. Yet I couldn’t see the benefit here for her. Maybe I was just too blind and ignorant and human.
“Thanks. I think.”
Lara shot me a sly look, then signaled the water. “We need our water glasses replaced.”
*
Marcone’s office happened to be wherever Marcone happened to be. This time, though, it was one of his established locations, a building that had a view of Lake Michigan, had been damaged in the fighting, and was currently undergoing repairs on the upper floors.
We took the elevator up to the sixth. Not that I couldn’t have walked, but Lara had already pressed the call button.
“You’d better hope I don’t short out the elevator.”
She looked up at me and smiled. “Harry, I’m not the one afraid of the dark. Or the endless possibilities it offers.”
Hell’s bells, what I wouldn’t do to have those lips against my skin, working on various parts of my anatomy better left to Bob’s trashy romance novels. “Um, yeah.”
We rode up in silence. The receptionist took one look at us and pointed down the hall. “Mr. Marcone is expecting you.” She’d probably been told to send anyone tall enough to be a professional basketball player that direction.
Johnny Marcone, now Baron Marcone and newly minted Knight of the Coin, was seated behind a heavy oak desk in the corner office at the end of the hall, dressed in his ubiquitous business suit. He casually waved a hand as he spotted us.
“Ah, Mr. Dresden. Ms. Raith. Please, come in.”
Sigrun Gard watched as we sat in the two leather chairs opposite him. The blonde Valkyrie folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the wall, alert but not overtly alarmed. There were no visible weapons, but that didn’t mean much. I’d seen her pull a two-handed double-bladed axe out of thin air.
“Gard, you may leave us.”
She shot him a confused look. “Sir?” He nodded slightly without taking his eyes from me. “Yes, sir.” Sigrun was not happy leaving her boss alone in the company of a wizard and a vampire.
I extended my senses cautiously. Marcone… had changed. Since taking on the Fallen known as Thorned Namshiel, he’d gained both knowledge and power. Namshiel was a magic user, and Marcone a fast learner. The sense I had of him now was something darkly dangerous and powerful, and absolutely not human.
I’d been joking in the park when I’d asked Marcone how much of him was left. It wasn’t much of a joke any more.
“Ms. Raith. I hadn’t expected you to be present for this meeting, but it’s probably for the best that you’re here. Perhaps you will be able to make the wizard see reason.”
I leaned forward. “Oh? And what reason is that?” Perhaps I sounded a bit angry and aggressive. I hated people pushing my buttons.
Marcone steepled his fingers. Green sparks shot between his fingertips, and I suppressed a shudder. My hand involuntarily twitched, wanting to protect my neck. The last time I’d seen that particular spell, it’d nearly strangled me to death. Marcone’s faded green eyes smiled as he saw me remember that meeting. The only reason Namshiel hadn’t killed me then was thanks to Michael’s intervention; there was no Knight of the Cross here now.
“The Archive can help you save Thomas Raith.”
I blinked. “That’s what you brought me here for? To tell me something I already knew?”
I’d tried to call Ivy after the battle, left a message with her answering service, but she’d never called back. I’d tried writing a message to her, asking for help. Because of the nature of the Archive’s magic, she instantly knew not only that I’d written to her, but what the message said.
Again, nothing.
I’d even tried calling Kincaid, with similar results.
I’d begun to suspect that the Wardens were blocking my communications with Ivy.
Once, I would’ve been able to go to Ebenezar, or Carlos, or even Luccio to ask for help in tracking her down. Or gone to Edinburgh myself, the seat of the White Council. But I’d been cast out, stripped of my wizard’s rank, and was a hairsbreadth from being summarily killed by the Blackstaff himself.
“I can put you in touch with her.”
I went very, very still. “And what do you want in return?”
He leaned forward with a predatory smile. “Your spirit of intellect.”
I choked a little in surprise. “Bob? You want Bob?”
“If that is what you call the being residing in the skull, then yes.”
Bob was centuries old, contained knowledge from at least two very powerful, very dark wizards. I couldn’t imagine what use Namshiel, a Fallen angel several thousand years old, would have for Bob.
But… what if Namshiel could find and merge Evil Bob back into Bob, then force it to do his bidding? That part of the spirit was strong, and evil (thus the name), and could provide Marcone with even more power than he already had access to. Power over the dead. Power to become a god.
Cold dread shot down my spine at the thought. “Absolutely not.”
A sigil burned on Marcone’s forehead, and two violet eyes opened above his own. I tried not to flinch.
“Are you sure, Winter Knight?” It was Marcone’s voice, but it wasn’t Marcone speaking. His midwestern accent had been supplanted by a formal British one. “It is not your friend. It is not even human. What is that compared to a brother’s life?”
I chose anger over fear and slammed my fist down on the desk. “We’re done.” I jerked the door open and stalked out, striding towards the stairwell. As I did, lights flickered and popped in my wake. The receptionist’s computer somewhat exploded, sending a cloud of smoke into the air.
I didn’t even feel guilty about it.
Lara caught up with me before I reached the stairs, grabbing my arm.
I knocked her hand away. “Don’t.”
“This is Thomas,” she spat. “Our brother. That thing is not even human.”
“Neither are you, and neither is Thomas. Bob may not be human, but he is my friend. He’s also very, very dangerous in the wrong hands.”
Lara gave a sniff of scorn. “And your hands are the right ones? Are you so sure about that?”
“Shut up,” I growled at her, pushing the door open hard enough that it hit the wall with an echoing bang. I at least wasn’t trying to raise the dead. Sure, I’d done it before, but Sue hadn’t been human, and I’d been desperate. And I had no desire to achieve divinity. I couldn’t even get out of jury duty, let alone rule the world.
I did want to save it, though.
I exited into the lobby, realizing as I did that I’d taken Lara’s car here. Mine was still back at the marina, several miles away.
Dammit. I rubbed my forehead in frustration.
I asked both Bob and Bonea for help with Thomas, but neither had enough knowledge of White Court vampires to be of use. They knew about what I knew; the Hunger was a parasite vampires were born with. It gave vampires their inhuman strength and ability to heal rapidly, but required to be fed in return. It made them nearly immortal.
Could Thomas’ Hunger be healed so it would stop trying to consume his flesh? Could the Hunger be removed entirely? Both questions remained unknown.
But Ivy, the Archive, was the sum of human knowledge. White Court vampires were nearly human, and had a long, long history with humanity. If anyone knew the answers to those questions, it’d be her.
If Thomas could be “cured” of his Hunger, would he thank me? Hate me? Kill me? Kill himself? I’d seen into his soul, his eternal battle to prevent it from taking him over. But he’d been born a vampire, lived the nearly fifty years of his life as a vampire, and it was all he knew how to be. Without his Hunger, Thomas wouldn’t be a vampire, or a member of the White Court. Hell’s bells, his cousins would probably kill him just out of spite.
To say nothing of the retribution the svartalves would demand.
I knew for a fact Lara would kill me if I managed to remove Thomas’ Hunger. To her, the parasite was integral to who she was. She didn’t view it as a burden, but as a strength. A useful tool in her arsenal. Taking that away from Thomas would kill him in her eyes.
Maybe she’d kill both of us.
“Harry?”
I startled. Lara was next to me, and I hadn’t heard her approach.
“I’ll find another way to contact the Archive. It’s not like we don’t have time.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Except for the fact that everyone wants to kill you, and without you, Thomas is lost.”
“Oh, come on. Not everyone wants to kill me.” Lara merely raised an eyebrow, and I threw up my hands. “Fine, maybe they do. But I’m not agreeing to Marcone’s proposal.”
Lara raised her hand, as if to caress my cheek, then hesitated. She let it fall back to her side. “Would you like a ride back to your car?”
I backed away a step, in case she tried to touch me again. Then another. If she put enough effort into her will, she could probably get me to agree to a great many things. Including handing over Bob. “I think I’ll walk.”
She scowled. Very attractively. “Do you want to know what I saw in your soul, wizard?”
“Enlighten me.”
“If you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you. You, Harry, are that abyss. You are Empty Night. You are the destruction of creation.” She took a very deliberate step towards me; I was too stunned to react, even when she placed her palm against my chest. “You are also the fires of creation rising from the ashes of destruction. You hold within you the potential for salvation, even for my kind. Your life is the fulcrum that will determine the fate of this universe, Harry. Have a little more care with it.”
She spun on her heel and walked away, out to her car patiently waiting at the curb.
Stars and stones. Stars and stones, indeed.