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Two pairs of eyes regarded me from across the room. In that haze between sleep and the waking world, the physical outline was merely a shadow, but the eyes… glowed; a pair of violet situated above a pair of amber.
Fear skittered up my spine as I recognized them.
Denarian.
I sat up so fast the room spun dizzily and intense nausea swept through me. I hunched over, trying to prevent heaving the contents of my stomach all over the bed.
“Harry, it is just me,” Lara said softly.
Breathe, in, out. The frantic drumming of my heart began to slow, and I cautiously raised my head.
There were indeed two pairs of eyes regarding me, one glowing faintly silver. But the much-lower pair was reflecting light rather than generating it. Lara Raith, sitting near the foot of my bed, holding Clementine in her lap. She was stroking my cat, who seemed quite content to be curled up with a vampire. Mister always ran from supernatural threats, but Clementine either didn’t view Lara as dangerous, or in the infinite wisdom of cats, didn’t care.
“Your cat seems to have taken a liking to me.”
“Um… yeah.” As responses go, it wasn’t my best work. My brain was too muddled to remember why I was in my own bedroom apparently being watched over by Lara. My chest felt hollowed out, tender in places, and I probed it experimentally with my fingers. No bruising, at least on the surface. Under the skin was anyone’s guess.
I looked back up at Lara. She occupied a kitchen chair, wearing form-fitting clothes she’d taken from one of the training room lockers. Now that my vision had adjusted, I noted the hard, brittle edge her eyes held, almost fever bright, the hollows in her cheeks, the purple circles under her eyes, the sweat on her face making tendrils of hair stick to her skin.
I threw off the covers in alarm. “What’s wrong?”
Lara held up a hand to stop me from coming closer. “I am… not well. You must not touch me. I kept vigil to make sure you would wake.”
I blinked, then got up and knelt on the floor next to her. This close, the heat radiating off her was a blast furnace. No wonder Clementine was purring contentedly.
“What happened to you? Are you sick?”
She tilted her head, regarding me with those luminous silver eyes. “What do you remember?”
I frowned. “Dancing with you, then… then…” my eyes widened. “Murphy. But it wasn’t her, just a woman who looked like her, and it…” the memories flooded back, strangely vivid and distorted. “Molly’s spell left residue behind, causing my emotions to careen out of control. I managed to get rid of a small portion…” I trailed off. “I did this to you.”
Lara shook her head, and her voice cracked as she spoke. “No, Harry. The Hunger did this to itself. It sensed the Fae magic inside you and siphoned it away.”
I ached to hold her, to comfort her obvious distress, but because of her warning I kept my hands at my sides. The sexual pull was increasing, intoxicating, and her eyes brightened further. “Why? Why would it do that if it makes you this ill?”
She laughed, and it, too, was brittle, devoid of the sensual pleasure that Lara exuded as easy as breathing. “It is a greedy thing, Hunger. That Fae magic contained a sliver of the Winter Lady’s essence hundreds of times more powerful than any human I have ever fed on. It wanted that life force and I could not oppose its will. I was afraid it damaged you, as it was not gentle.” Her eyes skimmed over my face and down my body, where it lingered. “Are you all right?”
I followed her gaze and only then realized I was naked. And while I hadn’t consciously thought of my reaction to Lara, it was clear I was still male and very much aware of her sensuality.
At least I don’t have shampoo in my eyes this time around.
“I’m fine,” I said, choosing to pretend I wasn’t waving an eyeful at a succubus whose expression grew more predatory by the moment. “I’m sorry I ruined our date. Is there something I can do to help?”
She gave me a small smile. “Harry. You have nothing to apologize for. And no, there is nothing you can do. My sisters are waiting for me outside. I must go before I lose all self-control.”
“Lara, I -“ I reached for her, but my hand met only air. A kiss, barely a flicker of pressure on my brow, and she was gone.
Clementine, now alone on the chair, blinked at me in confusion.
“Thank you,” I said to the empty room. She’d saved my life - again - even if it’d been by accident.
I slowly got to my feet and shuffled into the bathroom to take a bracing shower. Water sluicing over my skin was an uncomfortable sensation, tiny pinpricks that didn’t quite register as pain, but the cold helped order my thoughts. When I was finished, I dried and dressed and took Clementine downstairs to make us both breakfast.
And then I called Michael.
*
Michael Carpenter is a good man. A blessed man, in every sense of the word. Inexplicably, he is also my friend despite all he’s seen me do. Facing him now, the firelight casting his face into flickering shadow, while I explained everything that’d happened over the past few weeks was difficult. Pain and sorrow creased his features more than once, and when I finished with Lara’s intervention the night before, he put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed.
“I am sorry, Harry. I know Molly is changing, but… I hadn’t suspected she would do anything like this, especially not to a friend.”
I blew out a breath, because what I had to say next was even harder. “Michael, I didn’t tell you this to upset you. I wanted you to understand why… why I’m about to do what I’m about to do.”
He looked at me with wise, knowing eyes. “You intend to summon her. Confront her. And you didn’t want me to be angry with you when you do.”
“Yeah.” My voice came out small.
“Harry, my daughter is an adult. You are an adult. You are both part of the Winter Court which, while I don’t know the intricacies of how the Court functions, I know is not kind or gentle, or one that suffers weakness. I am sure you both have had to do things to survive in the Court that I would not understand. And if you believe you need to do this, I am not going to stop you.”
“She’s still your daughter,” I said in an even softer voice. As a parent to a daughter, I knew what I would do to someone who was threatening even a small measure of what I intended towards Molly.
Michael bowed his head. “Yes, she is. But she is also the Winter Lady and you her Knight. You need to re-establish boundaries in that relationship before it dissolves completely.”
“Michael, I…” I trailed off, swallowed past the dryness in my throat. “I’m sorry.”
Then he did something completely unexpected. He smiled at me. “This, Harry. This is how I know, regardless of what you may believe, you are still a good man. You are going into a confrontation that may break your heart, one that may break you irreparably, and yet all your concern is for me. Do not worry so much, my friend. I trust in God’s will that all will be as it should. But it does not hurt to err on the side of caution. Please, be careful.”
I blinked a few times until my vision was no longer blurry with tears. “I will.”
He paused and looked down at his hands, an uncomfortable expression darkening his face. “Harry, I… I would like to ask a favor, if I may.”
He’d saved my life too many times for me to hesitate. “Name it.”
“If it’s at all possible… don’t destroy your friendship with Molly. My daughter has no real friends other than you, and I worry what will happen to her humanity if you are no longer there for her. I know it’s a lot to ask.”
I wasn’t certain our friendship could be repaired. “I’ll do my best. I worry about her, too.”
Michael looked at me gravely. “I will pray for you both.”
I didn’t believe in prayer, but I believed in the power of Michael’s prayers. Maybe that would be enough. “Thanks.”
*
I sat back on my heels, studying the floor intently. Only one sigil remained to complete the design I’d spent the last two weeks working on, currently a series of chalk guide lines. I would use a spell to etch it into the concrete where it couldn’t be wiped away by a careless step.
If I meant this to be a permanent, reusable circle, the sigils’ indentations would be filled with molten steel, left to cool and harden. But I only needed it once, for this specific purpose, and wished to God I didn’t need it at all.
“How’s it look, Bonnie?” Green sparks drifted up from her wooden skull, coalescing into a glittering cloud hovering over my head.
“You are three millimeters off with the second conjugal line -“ she began. Knowing how this conversation would go, I cut her off.
“Is it precise enough to work?”
“Oh. Oh, yes.”
I looked up at her and gave her a tired smile. “Thanks, Bonnie.”
“You’re welcome.” She drifted over to her skull, and its green eyelights flickered on. “Are you sure you want to do this? Bob said it is very dangerous. I do not wish you to die, Harry.”
I picked up her skull and the kerosene lantern, walked up the stairs to the tiny warehouse office. I flopped down on the couch with a sigh, set Bonnie on the corner of the desk, the lantern on the floor. “I’m not going to die.” The reassurance sounded hollow, even to me, so I tried again. “She won’t kill me.” That was closer to the truth. Molly probably wouldn’t kill me, but she could make me wish I was dead.
But that was only if the circle didn’t hold.
I sighed again, opened the cooler and pulled out a can of Coke and a deli sandwich, turkey and Swiss with whole-grain mustard. I’d need a few hours of sleep to recharge my battery before tackling the last sigil, but first I needed fuel.
Bonnie was silent until I finished the sandwich. “She might not kill you, but she can do things that are far, far worse.”
Her words echoed my earlier thoughts. I suppressed a shudder and chugged down the last of the soda. “Yeah, she can. I’m hoping she won’t.”
“Because you’re friends?”
“Because we were friends, once.” The familiar pain hit me, and I rubbed my chest though I knew it wouldn’t help. It was a reflex I couldn’t seem to shake. I reached over and shut off the lantern, leaving only the green glow stick I’d cracked earlier for illumination and Bonnie’s eyelights. It’d be good until dawn, when enough light filtered through the grime-covered windows on the upper half of the warehouse that I’d be able to see.
I flipped on my back, pulled blankets up to my chin, though the chill in my bones had nothing to do with the temperature. “Night, Bonnie.”
“Night, Harry.” I waited until she closed her eyes to close mine.
The warehouse was one of a small cluster of buildings on the south bank of the Calumet River, just upstream from the Torrence Avenue Bridge. Part of Lord Raith’s shipping company, it hadn’t seen use as a warehouse for a number of years, and the building was mostly empty save for a few wrapped pallets to one side and a smattering of rotting wooden crates. It wasn’t heated or insulated, and in late February not the most pleasant of places to spend time in. But I wouldn’t freeze to death.
There was a locker room in the corner nearest the main door, a long wooden bench running between two rows of lockers that ended in a tiled area with two shower stalls, a pair of toilets and three sinks. The plumbing still worked, though there wasn’t a water heater. As I’d taken cold showers for years in a basement apartment in winter, it didn’t bother me.
Both warehouse and construction crew had been provided by Lara. I called her after Michael left, requesting help via her secretary and detailing what I required. Three hours later, the woman called back with an address and a time to meet the crew the following morning. It was over an hour each way between home and the warehouse, so I decided to stay on site for the entirety. Marci agreed to catsit for me; she was a graphic designer, and provided she had her laptop and access to the Internet, she could work anywhere.
I camped out in the small office above the locker room, pushing filing cabinets and discarded equipment out of the way so I had space to sleep on the couch and use the desk. Despite my better judgment, I brought Bonnie along to assist. It was a calculated risk, as very few knew of Bonea’s existence, and having her double-check my work was a relief.
The crew spoke amongst themselves in a language that sounded Eastern European but one I didn’t recognize. They spoke to me in heavily-accented English, though they understood my instructions and pencil sketch well enough. Probably assumed I was a rich eccentric with too much time on my hands and a penchant for the occult. I would have preferred to use svartalves, but they rarely worked with iron. More to the point, I was persona non grata in the svartalf community as I’d vouched for Thomas Raith who later attempted to assassinate their leader. I’m sure they also suspected me in his escape, but if they had proof, I would’ve been taken into their custody months ago.
So instead I worked for a week with Lara’s crew as they jackhammered up the floor and set three concentric rings of iron between freshly poured concrete. I let them handle the manual labor while I checked for flaws in the iron, in my measurements, and wiped off concrete that splattered on top of the rings.
When the last section was poured, sandwiched between the inner and second rings, I waited until it was almost dry to push twelve small bars composed of silver-plated steel into its surface. Then all that remained were the symbols and sigils, the last of which I would finish in the morning.
All I really wanted to do was talk to Molly; the circle was as much for her protection as for mine. When I summoned the Winter Lady, nothing outside it would be able to touch her, and knowing my temper, I might get angry enough to do something stupid.
Like summon Molly in the first place?
I listened to thin sheets of ice cracking on the river’s surface for a while, until the bridge’s signal bell designed to warn motorists echoed in the night. Like many bridges spanning the Calumet, the roadway could be raised into its superstructure to allow tall ships to pass underneath. This time of year, ship traffic seemed limited to the occasional barge and tug, and the ice wasn’t thick enough to cause problems.
When I finally fell asleep, my dreams were filled with images of Chicago burning.
*
In the morning, I showered away the sweat on my skin, letting the icy water pour over my scalp for a few minutes. I was stalling. I knew I was stalling, and finally shut the faucet off with an irritated growl.
I dried and dressed quickly, went upstairs to grab Bonnie, a bottle of water and the remaining half of my last sandwich, then headed down to the circle.
The entire design was similar to one I’d seen in the basement of a loup garou years ago, three concentric circles of iron interspersed with symbols and sigils. One for spirit, one for flesh, and one for a god. Or in my case, a Queen of Winter.
I crouched next to the inner circle, touched a finger to the iron, and willed it closed. An invisible barrier sprang up and I extended my senses towards it, probing for weakness. Finding none, I waved a hand through it and the power released with a slight pop of air. I repeated the process for the middle and outer rings, and when they both passed, I moved to the chalk-line sigil and knelt on the floor. My bruised knees complained, but the pain quickly dulled behind the numbing Winter Mantle cold.
Delicate spellwork is difficult for me, and etching the sigils and symbols into the concrete required pinpoint accuracy and extreme focus. I used my blasting rod as a brush, painting over the chalk lines I’d drawn while repeating a quasi-Latin phrase. Power rolled out in a tight beam of red light, looking very much like a laser burning into the concrete. It was actually a combination of heat and kinetic repulsion, and it left me shaking and sweating when I finished.
“Bonnie, check its integrity.” I stumbled back and grabbed my water bottle from the floor, gulping it down in a matter of seconds.
Her green sparks flew from the wooden skull, and she made several slow circuits of the construct. “It’s ready,” she finally said, leaving a green trail of light behind her. I picked up her skull, waited until she flew inside, then carried her up the stairs. “Harry?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t get hurt, okay? I wouldn’t like it if you got hurt.”
She sounded scared, and that reminded me technically she wasn’t even a year old, no matter how many centuries of knowledge she contained. I set her on the office desk and sat on the couch.
”Whatever happens today, you’ll be all right. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Her eyelights blinked at me. “I’m more worried about you. I… I’m scared.”
I cupped her skull in my hands and brought her up to eye level. “I know. I’m scared, too. I’ll do my best not to get hurt, okay?”
“Okay,” she replied in a tiny voice.
Bonnie deserved more, but coming up with a succinct explanation she’d understand had eluded me thus far, and no idea suddenly sparked in my head now. “If I don’t come back, I’ll need you to watch out for Maggie. Can you do that?”
“Of course. Maggie’s my friend.”
I smiled back at her. “Yes, she is. Now I need you to hide, and don’t come out until you either see me or Will. All right?”
“All right.” The green eyelights extinguished themselves. I slid Bonne into my duffel bag, covering her with several shirts before zipping it closed. Then I called Will, gave him the address, and told him if he didn’t hear from me within six hours to drive over and pick up my belongings. I didn’t tell him if that happened, I’d probably be dead. I didn’t need to.
When I walked back downstairs, I went into the supply closet and brought out a twenty-five pound bag of rock salt. Using scissors to slice the bag open, I poured a thick line of salt around the outermost iron ring, leaving a six-inch gap between them. Then I set the bag aside, stepped carefully over the salt, touched my finger to the iron ring and willed it closed. It took more effort than I expected, and it snapped shut with a low rumble, power sweeping from outer ring to inner. The sigils and symbols lit with a green-gold glow.
I stepped back, activated the salt circle, and felt the familiar pop of power as it closed.
Then I summoned Molly.
A surge of energy, and a young woman appeared inside the center. She was dressed in a gray business suit, pale green blouse, and her platinum blonde hair was pulled into a tail that ran down her back.
Molly looked at me with crystalline blue eyes and a puzzled expression on her face. “Harry?” Then she glanced down at the floor, the sigils, and her gaze swept over the remaining circles until they came to rest on me. Her expression was decidedly less friendly now. “What is this?”
Will battered against the magical containment, and I steeled my own will in response, though with the amplification of power I only needed a bare whisper of my own strength. It was a test, a shot across the bow, to see how serious I was.
As if the linked circles didn’t get my point across.
I folded my arms across my chest, feigning nonchalance. “We need to talk.”
“And you couldn’t have called me?” Extending her hand, she pressed it against the invisible barrier. “You had to summon me?”
“Yes, I had to summon you. I didn’t trust that our conversation would remain… civil.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You think I would hurt you?”
“Molly, you took away my emotions on purpose and without my consent. You’ve already hurt me,” I snapped, glaring at her. “Do you remember those two kids you ‘cured’ of addiction?” I put the word ‘cured’ in air quotes. “Nelson is still in a mental institution, and will be there the rest of his pathetically short life.” Molly bit her lip, looking so much like her human self that I allowed hope to rise. “Did you ever consider I would end up the same way? You tampered with his mind, Molls.”
She glared back. “I didn’t tamper with yours, just your emotions. How did you break the enchantment? Dammit, Lara Raith helped you didn’t she? I hoped she wouldn’t be able to affect it at all, or that it’d be too late for her to try. You’re getting too close to her, Harry.”
“At the Winter Court’s request,” I snarled back. “At Mab’s request. I don’t need you interfering with our relationship.”
Molly arched a brow. “Listen to yourself. Relationship? She’s a vampire, Harry. I’m trying to save you from yourself. I would’ve undone it, afterwards.”
“Afterwards? After what?”
“After Lara called off the wedding. Why do you think I did it? I told you I’d find you a way out. She would have been unable to feed from or control you, then used that as justification to reject the Mab’s offer because it wouldn’t be a true alliance of Winter. And Mab would have agreed with her.”
I blinked at her, momentarily stunned. “That’s your idea of help? Turn me into a Vulcan without my permission? Without wondering what would happen to me during those months before you ‘fixed’ me again? Or what I would become afterwards? What was left of your spell almost killed me, Molly.”
Molly waved a dismissive hand. “I would’ve fixed any residual problems. I’ve healed your body before.”
“After you forced me to agree to bring you children,” I snarled, clenching my fists. “And the body is not the mind.”
She stamped a foot in frustration, and power strained against the construct. I quickly channeled more of my own into it and the barriers held, though the ground shook for a few seconds. “Dammit, Harry! We need the changelings, and I knew you wouldn’t bring them back willingly.”
“You’re damn right I wouldn’t have. They’re kids. Why do you even want them?”
“I…” Molly’s face flushed, and she appeared to be choking, her hands grabbing at her neck. “I… I…”
“Molly?” I took a step closer in panic, intending to break the circle, then hesitated. She couldn’t die, no matter how distressing her current situation appeared. Instead, I forced myself to watch her struggle.
“I can’t tell you!” she screamed, then took in a few ragged breaths. “I want to, Harry, but I can’t. It’s Winter business.”
“I’m Winter, too.”
She shook her head. “You’re a Knight. You’re mortal. You don’t have to follow the same rules we do. I can’t tell you.”
So when she said Winter business, what she actually meant was Winter Queen business. I had no doubt the changelings had been recruited for the eternal war waged against Nemesis. I just had to hope it wasn’t to turn them into suicide bombers, sacrificing their lives for no measurable gain.
But we were getting off topic.
I took a deep breath, trying to control myself. “Molly, what you did to me was wrong, no matter your intentions. Don’t you see that?”
“It was for your own good.”
My fury ignited and my staff blazed to life with green-gold fire, though when I spoke it was with deadly calm. “So you given the choice, you would do it again? Against my express wishes?”
Molly didn’t seem angry, and rolled her eyes in exasperation. “To save you? Of course I would.”
“That is not your call to make!” I thundered, a wave of kinetic energy surging out of me before I could stop it. The circle absorbed the power, causing no harm to Molly, though it did flip over the pallets behind me. “Do you know why I agreed to bring back those kids?”
“Because I was going to kill you? It wasn’t even a real threat -“
“It was real to me,” I spat back at her. “You were killing me, and I agreed just to make you stop. But not to spare me. It was to spare you.”
My heart sank as I saw no understanding in her expression, only confusion. “Spare me?”
Oh, Molly, have I failed you that completely? A lump lodged in my throat, and sudden pain overwhelmed the anger. I spoke my next words softly. “I saw what you became after you thought you’d arranged my death. It was too easy to imagine what you’d become if it was your hands that actually killed me. The Winter Lady, her humanity lost, her compassion destroyed. I don’t want that to happen to you. I care about you too much, grasshopper.”
She stared at me, her face a mask, and the silence stretched. Had I gotten through to her at all? Or had this been an exercise in futility?
A boom of thunder rattled my bones and made me stumble, the simultaneous flash of light blinding in its intensity. I blinked furiously, trying to clear the spots from my vision, and felt the air grow colder.
“What is the meaning of this?” The Winter Queen’s words shattered the stillness. The ring of boots on concrete, and Mab finally came into focus through the thick, icy fog. Her form changed with her mood, and today she loomed over me, black eyes set in a face sculpted from marble, black hair held back by an icy crown, dressed in an armored gown of black ivory, the carved plates clinking dully as she walked.
Mab was pissed.
“This doesn’t concern you,” I said, clenching my staff as an outlet for my fear. When Mab looked like this, someone usually ended up dead. “This is between me and Molly.”
Her eyes narrowed. “It concerns me very much when my Lady and my Knight are fighting.”
“We’re not fighting. We’re discussing things in a very adult-like manner.”
Mab raised an eyebrow. “Is that why the Winter Lady is currently trapped inside a summoning circle? Because you’re discussing things in a very adult-like manner?”
I made a sound. “It was just a precaution.”
Her eyes flashed with lightning. “Why?” she demanded, glancing between us. Molly bit her lip but raised her chin in defiance as she didn’t reply. When Mab’s gaze turned back to me, Molly’s expression implored me to say nothing. What she’d done hadn’t gone against Mab’s explicit orders; had the Winter Queen forbidden such action, Molly would have never been able to act. But she had gone against the Queen’s wishes, and I didn’t want to find out what Mab would do to her in response.
So I gave the Winter Queen a measure of truth, but not its entirety.
“Molly called in her favor, forced me to track down and bring back three changelings,” I growled, not having to feign the anger. “They were kids. Not old enough to vote, barely old enough to drive. I refused until she threatened to kill me.”
Mab’s head whipped around to face Molly, her sudden spike of anger causing ice to spread across the concrete. It stopped only when it reached the circle’s impenetrable barrier. “What?”
Molly waved a hand. It was a casual gesture, but I saw the fear she was hiding. “I wasn’t going to actually kill him. You know better than anyone that the scales must balance. It was my right to claim the debt he owed.” Despite her earnest words, I had seen into Molly’s heart that night. Molly might not have intended to kill me, but the Winter Lady had. Could Molly be lying? She’d taken on some Fae aspects, though I didn’t know if she was obligated to tell the truth as Fae were.
Perhaps she was lying to herself. Or perhaps the wholly inhuman part of the Winter Lady was hiding it from her. The thought made me shiver. If that was true, what else was it capable of hiding?
Mab took a single step forward, and the concrete in front of her foot cracked with a series of loud pops. A fissure formed, heading straight for the outer ring of iron. It ran under the salt line, slammed up against the iron and stopped, causing the humming of the construct to waver for an instant. It steadied, resuming its harmony, but my heart was now pounding hard against my ribs.
Salt poured into the crack, draining away until the backup circle broke with a slight release of power, causing eddies in the thinning fog.
The Queen of Air and Darkness looked at me from the corner of her eye. An acknowledgment of my spellcraft, and a dangerous warning. She couldn’t pass over the active circle any more than Molly could get out of it. But breaking the iron ring would cause the circle to collapse, and if any Fae had that much power, it’d be Mab.
“You will return to Arctis Tor to await my arrival,” Mab said to Molly.
“But -“
“I am your Queen!” she thundered, and the entire building shook on its foundation. “You will do as I say.” Molly, chastised, hung her head, and Mab accepted that as Molly’s agreement. “My Knight, please release her.”
“Think about what I said, padawan,” I told Molly softly, but she didn’t look up, didn’t indicate she heard me. I swiped the end of my staff through the outer circle. The barriers failed and exploded into green-gold pyrotechnics, but the energy dissipated with a snap of the Winter Queen’s fingers.
When the curtain of light faded, Molly was gone. The Winter Queen remained beside me, clad now in a dress of dark violet and gray, her silver hair woven into dozens of tiny glittering braids.
She turned eyes the color of a stormy sea in my direction.
“Did you really think this was necessary?” Mab asked, tilting her head towards the circle.
“It was just a precaution,” I repeated. “I didn’t want to do anything I regretted later, and I didn’t want Molly to do anything she regretted later, either. With her inside and me outside, we couldn’t hurt each other.”
Mab arched a brow. “Oh? Tell me, in the time since Molly Carpenter took up the mantle of the Winter Lady, how often have you spoken to her?” My face flushed with embarrassment, but I didn’t have a chance to reply. “Ah, I see by your discomfort it has not been very often. Rather poor form for a friend, your former apprentice, is it not? Has she told you what happened between her and Warden Ramirez?”
“Happened?” I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Surely you have noticed his limp. Heard of the accident that put him in a wheelchair for months.”
I had never gotten the details, only heard that Carlos had been injured on the job in some remote Alaskan village. My brain slowly put it together, all the little pieces I held clicking as they settled. “Molly did that to him? On purpose?”
Mab shrugged dismissively. “Does it matter?”
“Yes, dammit, of course it matters.”
She looked at me for a moment, head tilted to one side. “Her mantle pushes her as yours pushes you, and she foolishly gave in to its demands. The Warden’s injuries were the result. Had I not called in the Council, he would have died.”
Carlos and… Molly? Oh, God, grasshopper. I should’ve been there for you. It explained the hints both had dropped, and I had been too distracted to notice. “But… why? I’ve had sex since becoming the Winter Knight and nothing like that happened.” Of all the things I thought I’d be doing today, discussing my sex life with the Winter Queen hadn’t been anywhere on that list.
“Maid, mother, crone.” Mab ticked off the words on her fingers. “You are familiar with the concept?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
“And what makes a maid… a maid?”
A light bulb turned on in my head. I was pretty sure Molly was no longer a maid in the strictest sense, but… “You mean she can’t have sex? Ever? She’s perpetually sexually frustrated with no available outlet?”
“She cannot perform any act that could result in children. Her mantle will not allow it.”
I, at least, had a choice, though I fought against fiercely. I could, if I wanted, satisfy the Mantle with mindless sex through Sidhe of the Winter Court; it’s not as if that sort of activity was in short supply. Or with Lara Raith, whose sexual appetites matched my own dark desires.
Molly’s only choice was to live with it, forever. Until - and unless - she became Queen.
“Now you begin to understand, a little, what it is to be the Winter Lady.“
I shot her a glare. “You want her to lose her humanity.”
Mab shrugged “I admit it would make her job easier, but it is not for me to gainsay what she wishes. If she desires to cling to her past, that is her decision. Eventually, her past will pass into memory as those connected to her die.” She looked pointedly at me. “Even you, my Knight, will die in time.”
“Probably sooner than later, I imagine.” I let out a breath. “Why?”
“Why what, my Knight?”
“Why did you come to me, all those years ago, and ask me to be your emissary? You could have chosen anyone. Why me?”
She pursed her lips. “I heard many things of you from the Leaninsidhe. How cleverly you bargained with her, and then bargained further to twist the first more to your liking. From her tales, I knew you would be my perfect emissary. And I was correct.”
“Why did Lea help me?” I had wondered that for years, but never thought Lea would provide a straight answer. Perhaps Mab would.
She tapped a long frosted nail against her chin. “The Leaninsidhe never could resist a good bargain. And you, with your righteous anger and your untapped potential, were just too good a bargain to pass up.” Then she sighed. “But ultimately I believe it had to do with your mother. They were allies, of a sort.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you want?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“You’re answering my questions, and have yet to ask for anything in return. So what do you want?”
“Am I not allowed to be magnanimous and freely answer questions posed by the Winter Knight? It is part of my duty as your Queen, and if you recall, part of the bargain we made.” Then she sighed. “But you are right. I have a task for you.”
Here it comes.
“And?”
“I wish you to kill my daughter.”
I stared at her in shock. “Sarissa? You want me to kill the Summer Lady?”
She shook her head. “Of course not. That would lead to war. It is Maeve I want dead.”
I eyed her warily and took a step back. “Maeve is already dead. I saw her die.”
“She is.”
“Then how…” it hit me suddenly. “She’s been turned into a Black Court vampire? How the hell did that happen?” I snarled, anger overriding caution.
Mab’s eyes glittered with her own anger, though it wasn’t directed at me. “Her body was stolen during the vigil while I was… distracted. I had a suspicion as to who took her and why, which has now been confirmed.”
Which was rather disturbing. Mab had asked to lay her daughter to rest on Demonreach, and I hadn’t sensed anyone arrive on the island other than the contingent of Fae the Queen of Winter summoned. Someone in her own Court betrayed her. Again.
“Why don’t you kill her? Why send me?”
“Because I do not intend to send you as my Knight.”
“Ah. You want me to go after the Black Court as Harry Dresden, Wizard of Chicago, because they know I have an axe to grind and wouldn’t find it at all suspicious if I wanted a few more vampires dead. Is that why you had me watch Lara?”
“Indeed. But since you made no mention of Maeve, I assume Dracul is keeping her hidden for a reason. You can use this to track her.” Mab produced a small glass vial from her jacket pocket half-filled with blood.
I took it from her and examined it. The blood was liquid, some kind of preservative added to keep it from coagulating. “I doubt this will work. Her body’s been dead for several years and any attachment to the blood will have faded.”
“It also contains a small measure of Maeve’s power that she held as Winter Lady. When the Mantle passed to Molly Carpenter, it left residual traces behind in Maeve’s body. I felt it when I held her. That is what the vampires wanted, so I have no doubt they have nurtured those remnants into formidable abilities.”
“If I’m tracking the Winter Lady’s Mantle, won’t it just lead me to Molly?”
Mab shook her head. “No. With each bearer, the mantle changes. This -“ she tapped the vial with a nail “- will only work for Maeve.” Then she looked at me expectantly.
I pocketed the vial. “All right. In return, I want you to go easy on Molly.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, though she spoke softly. “Do not presume to instruct me on my duties.”
I bowed my head a fraction in deference. I can play nice when I have to. “I’m not. It is merely a request, one from the wizard Harry Dresden to the Queen of Air and Darkness.” When Mab didn’t respond, I added, “She’s still my friend. Please, show her mercy.” Mercy in the Winter Court was an unfamiliar concept, but worth a try.
She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I will… consider it. Now, I suggest you clean up this mess.”
“Mess?” I’d barely asked the question when Mab produced a staff, icy vapor swirling around its silver glow, and slammed it into the floor. The concrete shattered violently, chunks raining down as I hastily conjured a shield to prevent them from bashing my head in. A second slam and the groan of iron twisting, fracturing, and finally exploding into shards of metal with high-pitched shrieks.
When the dust cleared, Mab was gone. Only ruins remained of the carefully crafted circle, and its debris covered the entire warehouse.
“Hell’s bells,” I muttered, coughing a few times. “You could’ve just asked.”