steel toe snake proof boots

i looked back to see him lifting a pale andsweating hendricks, getting one of the big man's arms over his shoulder and supportinghis weight. "shall we?" thomas hauled me to my feet. "come on.

steel toe snake proof boots, no time to rest now." "right," i said. i raised my voice and called, "lara, get themmoving!" we started toward the gate, keeping the curtainof molten fire on our flank.

it was hard just moving one foot in frontof the other. it took me a while to notice that justinewas under one shoulder, supporting part of my weight, and that i was walking amidst thethralls, near the white king and his guard. the vampires were still the outer guard, spreadout over a half circle, in what amounted to a running battle. only we weren't running. it was more of a steady walk, made all themore eerie by hellish light and shadow and desperation. murphy's gun chattered several more times,and then fell silent.

i heard the throaty bellow of my .44. i checked my hand and sure enough, my gunwasn't there. "leave them!" i heard lara snap, her cold silver voice slitheringaround pleasantly in my ear. "keep the pace steady. stay together. give them no opening." we walked, the vampires growing more desperateand less human as the fight went on. ghouls roared and screamed and died.

so did raiths. the cold subterranean air of the cavern hadgrown greenhouse hot, and it felt as if there weren't enough air left in the air. i panted hard, but it never seemed to getenough into my lungs. i kept lifting one foot and putting it backdown again, numbly noticing that marcone was behind me with hendricks, doing the same thing. i glanced to my left and saw the fiery fountainof molten stone beginning to dwindle. it hadn't been an ongoing spell i had to keeppumping power into. that's the beauty of earth magic.

momentum. once you get it moving, it doesn't slow downvery quickly. i'd poured fire magic into all that stoneand forced it to expand out of the earth around it. it had simply taken this long for the spellto play out. but that's exactly what had happened. the spell was beginning to play out. much as i had. the curtain lowered slowly, thinning and growingless hot, and i could see ghouls behind it,

ready to attack. i noted, idly, that they would be able torush right into our group of dazed thralls, wounded gangsters, and weary wizards, withnothing much to oppose them. "oh, god," justine whimpered. she'd noticed, too. "oh, god." the ghouls had all seen the curtain lowering. now they rushed forward, to the very edgeof the fading curtain, seemingly uncaring of the molten stone on the floor, dozens ofthem, a solid line of the creatures just waiting

for the first chance to bounce over and eatour faces. a blast of green light flashed down the line. it went completely through two ghouls, leavingthem howling on the floor, severed a third ghoul's arm at the shoulder, and continuedon through the white throne, leaving a hole the size of a laundry basket in its back. ramirez had been waiting for them to lineup like that. he stood, his weight on one foot, at the farend of the lowering wall of flaming stone, on the ghoul side, arms akimbo. they whirled toward him, but ramirez startedlifting his arms alternately from his hip

to extend before him, the motion like thatof a gunfighter in the old west, and every draw flung more silent green shafts of deadlylight through the ghouls. those nearest him tried to rush forward forthe kill, but ramirez had their measure now, and he wasn't content to leave a single gapinghole, trusting that it would incapacitate them sufficiently. he hurled blast after hideously ruinous blast,and left nothing but a scattered pile of twitching parts of the first ghouls to rush him, andthose beyond them suffered nearly as greatly. fresh-spilled black ichor rushed back andforth across the cavern floor until it looked like the deck of a ship pitching on a lunaticsea.

"what are you waiting for, dresden?" ramirez shouted. "one little bit of vulcanomancy and you getworn out!" a particularly well-aimed bolt tore the headsfrom a pair of ghouls at once. "how do you like that!" we all began hurrying ahead. "not bad," i slurred back at him, "for a virgin." his rate of fire had begun to slacken, butthe gibe drew a fresh burst of ferocity out of ramirez, and he redoubled his efforts.

the ghouls howled their frustration and boundedaway from the wall of fire, out of its treacherous light and away from the power of the wardenof the white council ripping them to shreds. "it hurts!" bellowed ramirez drunkenly, flinginga last pair of bolts at a fleeing ghoul. "ow! ow, it hurts! it hurts to be this good!" there was a hiss of sound, a flicker of steel,and one of vitto malvora's knives hit ramirez's stomach so hard that that it threw the youngman off his feet and to the ground. "man down!"

marcone shouted. we were close enough to the gate that i couldsee the pale blue light that spilled through marcone waved his hand through a couple ofsignals and flicked a finger at ramirez, then at hendricks. the armed men—mercenaries, they had to be;no gang of criminal thugs was so disciplined—rushed forward, taking charge of the wounded, seizingramirez and dragging him back toward the gate, roughly pushing and shoving the thralls aheadand toward the gate. i went to ramirez, staggering away from justine. the knife had hit him in the guts.

hard. ramirez had worn a kevlar vest, whichwasn't much good for stopping sharp, pointy things, though it had at least kept the knife'shilt from tearing right into the muscle and soft tissue. i knew there were some big arteries there,and more or less where they were located, but i couldn't tell if the knife was at theright angle to have hit them. his face was terribly pale, and he blinkedhis eyes woozily as the soldiers started dragging him across the floor, and his legs thrashedweakly, bringing his own left leg up into his field of view. "bloody hell," he gasped.

"harry. there's a knife in my leg. when did that happen?" "in the duel," i told him. "don't you remember?" "i thought you'd stepped on me and sprainedmy ankle," ramirez replied. then he blinked again. "bloody hell. there's a knife in my guts."

he peered at them. "and they match." "be still," i warned him. vampires and thralls and mercenaries werefalling back through the gate now. "don't move around, all right?" he began to say something, but a panickedvampire kicked his leg as he went past. ramirez's face twisted in pain and then suddenlyslackened, his eyes fluttering closed. i saw his staff on the ground and grabbedit and pitched it through the gate after him, the men carrying him as the fight behind megot closer, while most of the retreating vampires

still fought off the determined assault ofthe ghouls. "how long?" i heard marcone demand of one of the soldiers. the man checked his watch—an expensive swissstopwatch, with springs and cogs, not some digital thing. "three minutes, eleven seconds," the soldiersaid. "how many charges?" "six doubles," he replied. "hey," i snapped at marcone.

"cutting it a little close, huh?" "any longer and they wouldn't accomplish anything,"marcone replied. "can you walk?" "yes, i can walk," i snapped. "i could get someone to carry you," marconesaid, his tone solicitous and sincere. "bite me," i growled, and called, "murphy?" "here!" murphy called. she was among the last of those retreatingfrom the ghoul onslaught. her boxy little volvo of a gun was hangingby its strap on one shoulder, and she held

my .44 in both hands, though it looked almostcomically overlarge for her. "ramirez has got a knife in the stomach,"i said. "i need you to look after him." "he's the other warden, right?" "yeah," i said. "he's already through the gate." "what about you?" i shook my head and made sure my duster wasstill covering most of me. "malvora is still out there.

he might try to kill our gate, or try someother spell. i've got to be one of the last ones through." murphy gave me a skeptical look. "you look like you're about to fall over. you in any shape to do more magic?" "true," i said, and offered her my staff. "hey, maybe you should do it." she gave me a hard look. "no one likes a wiseass, harry."

"are you kidding? as long as the wiseass is talking to someoneelse, people love 'em." i gave her half a smile and said, "get outof here." "how are we getting back out again?" she asked. "thomas led us there, but…" "he'll lead you back," i said. "or one of the others will. or ramirez, if some idiot doesn't kill himtrying to help him." "if it's all the same to you, i'd rather youdid it, harry."

she touched my hand, and departed throughthe broad oval of the gate. i saw her hurry through ankle-deep snow beneathwhat looked like sheltering pine trees to ramirez's side, where he lay limply on hiscloak. the thralls looked confused, which of coursethey would be, and cold, which, given their wardrobe, of course they would be. "that's all of ours!" shouted the soldierto marcone. "two minutes, fifteen seconds!" he had to shout. the nearest of the ghouls were about ten feetaway, doing battle against, for lack of a

more cliched term, a thin white line of raith,including my brother with his two blades spinning. "go!" marcone said, and the soldier went through. marcone, a fresh shotgun in hand, steppedup next to me. "dresden?" "what are you hanging around for?" "if you recall," he said, "i agreed to extractyou alive. i'm not leaving until i have done so." he paused and added, "provided, of course,that it happens in the next two minutes."

from where i was standing, i could see threetwo-brick bundles of c4, detonators thrust into their soft surfaces, each fitted withold-fashioned precision timepieces. they were simple charges on the floor. the other three must have been shaped chargesaffixed to the cavern walls. i had no idea how much destruction was goingto be wrought by them, but i didn't suppose it would be much fun to be there when theywent boom. alas, that the poor ghouls would most likelybe staying for the fireworks. "thomas!" i called.

"time to go!" thomas shouted, and the other vampires withhim broke from their line and fled for the gate, except for one, a tall female raithwho… i blinked. holy crap. it was lara. the other vampires fled past me, through thegate, and thomas and his sister stood alone against the horde of eight-foot ghouls. stood against it, and stopped it cold.

their skin gleamed colder and whiter thanglacial ice, their eyes blazed silvery bright, and they moved with blinding speed and utterlyinhuman grace. his saber fluttered and slashed, drawing aconstant stream of blood, punctuated by devastating blows of his kukri. (ah, right, that was the name of that inward-bentknife. i knew i'd remember it eventually.) lara moved with him, trailing her damp, midnighthair and shredded silk kimono. she covered thomas's back like a cloak hungfrom his shoulders. she was no weaker than her younger brother,and perhaps even faster, and the wavy-bladed

short sword in her hand had a penchant forleaving spills of ghoulish entrails in its wake. together, the pair of them slipped aside fromrepeated rushes and dealt out deadly violence to one foe after another. ultimately, i think, their fight was futile—andall the more valiant and astonishing for being so doomed. no matter how lethal thomas and lara provedto be, or how many ghouls went screaming to the floor, their black blood continued toslither back into their fallen bodies, and the ghouls that had been taken down continuedto gather themselves together to rise and

fight again. most of those who reentered the fight withrenewed vigor and increased fury remained hideously maimed in some way. some trailed their entrails like slimy greyropes. others were missing sections of their skulls. at least two entered the fray armless, simplybiting with their wide jaws of vicious teeth. beside the beauty of the brother and sistervampires, the ghouls' deformed bodies and hideous injuries were all the more monstrous,all the more vile. "my god," marcone said, his voice hushed.

"it is the most beautiful nightmare i haveever seen." he was right. it was hypnotic. "time?" i asked him, my voice rough. he consulted his own stopwatch. "one minute, forty-eight seconds." i bellowed. "lara!

now!" with that, the pair of them bounded apart,apparently the last thing the ghouls had been expecting, and dashed for the gate. i turned to go—and that was when i feltit. there was a dull pulse, a throb of some powerthat seemed at once alien and familiar, a sickening, whirling sensation and then a suddenstab of energy. it wasn't a magical attack. an attack implies an act of force that mightbe predicted, countered, or at least mitigated in some way.

this was something far more existential. it simply asserted itself, and by its veryexistence, it dictated a new reality. a spike of thought slammed into my being likea physical blow—it wasn't any one single thought. it was, instead, a melange of them, a cocktailof emotions so heavy, so dense, that it drove me instantly to my knees. despair flooded through me. i was so tired. i had struggled and fought to achieve nothingbut raw chaos, rendering the whole of my effort

useless. my only true friends had been badly injured,or had run, leaving me in this hellish cavern. those who currently stood beside me were monsters,of one stripe or another—even my brother, who had returned to his monstrous ways infeeding on other human beings. terror followed hard on its heels. i had been paralyzed, while surrounded bymonsters of resilience beyond description. in mere seconds, they would fall on me. i had fallen with my face toward the gate,and though physical movement was beyond me, i could see that everyone, everyone had alsopitched over onto the ground, vulnerable to

the attack while the gate remained open. vampires, thralls, and mortal warriors alike,they had all fallen. guilt came next. murphy. carlos. i had gotten them both killed. useless. it had all been useless. marcone's stopwatch lay on the ground nearhis limply outstretched hand.

he'd fallen next to me. the second hand was sweeping rapidly downward,and the watches on the charges of c4, the nearest of them about ten feet away, did thesame. then i understood it. this was vittorio malvora's attack. this hideous, paralyzing brew of everythingdarkest in the moral soul was what he had poured out, as the raith administered desire,the malvorans gave fear, and the skavis despair. vitto had gone beyond them all. he had taken all the worst of the human souland forged it into a poisonous, deadly weapon.

and i hadn't been able to do a damned thingto stop him. i lay staring at marcone's stopwatch, andwondered which would kill us all first: the ghouls or the explosion. chapter forty-one between 1:34 and 1:33, the backward-runninghand of the stopwatch suddenly halted. or it seemed that way. but several moments later, the hand twitcheddown to the next second, and the tick sounded more like a hollow thump. i just lay there staring at it, and wonderingif this was how my mind was reacting to my

own imminent death. and then i thought that i'd had enough willto wonder about something, rather than just being crushed and suffocated by despair andterror. maybe that was how i was reacting to my imminentdeath: with denial and escapist self-induced hallucinations. "not precisely, my host," came lasciel's voice. i blinked, which was a lot more voluntarymovement than i'd had a second before. i tried to look around. "don't try," lasciel said, her voice a littlealarmed.

"you could harm yourself." what the hell. had she somehow slowed down time? "time does not exist," she said, her tonefirm. "not the way you consider it, at any rate. i have temporarily accelerated the processesof your mind." the stopwatch thud-thumped again: 1:32. accelerating my brain. that made more sense.

after all, we all use only about ten percentof our brain's capacity, anyway. there was no reason it couldn't handle a lotmore activity. well, except that… "yes," she said. "it is dangerous, and i cannot maintain thislevel of activity for very long before it begins inflicting permanent damage." i presumed that lasciel was about to makeme an offer i couldn't refuse. her voice became sharp, angry. "don't be a fool, my host.

if you perish, i perish. i simply seek to give you an option that mightenable us to survive." right. and by some odd coincidence, might that optionjust happen to involve the coin in my basement? "why do you continue to be so stubborn aboutthis, my host?" lasciel demanded, her voice tight with frustration. "taking up the coin would not enslave you. it would not impede your ability to choosefor yourself." not at first, no.

but it would finish up with me enslaved tothe true lasciel, and she knew it. "not necessarily," she said. there was a tone of pleading to her voice. "accommodations can be reached. compromises made." sure, if i'm willing to go along with herevery plan, i'm sure she'd be quite agreeable. "but you would be alive," lasciel cried. it didn't matter, given that the coin wasburied in the stone under my lab anyway. "not an obstacle, my host.

i can teach you how to call it to you withina few seconds." thud-thump : 1:31. a thud from behind me. footsteps. the ghouls. they were coming. i could see part of marcone's face, twistedin agony under vittorio malvora's psychic assault. "please," lasciel said.

"please, let me help you. i don't want to die." i didn't want to die, either. i closed my eyes for another second. thud-thump : 1:30. it took an effort of will, and what seemedlike several moments of effort, but i managed to whisper aloud, "no." "but you will die," lasciel said, her voiceanguished. it was going to happen sooner or later.

but it didn't have to be tonight. "then quickly! first, you must picture the coin in your mind. i can help you—" not like that. she could help me. silence. thud-thump : 1:29. "i can't," she whispered.

i thought she could. "i can't," she replied, her voice anguished. "she would never forgive that. never accept me back into her… just takethe coin. harry, just take the coin. p-please." i gritted my teeth. thud-thump : 1:28. again, i said, "no."

"i can't do this for you!" untrue. she'd already partially shielded me from theeffects of malvora's attack. the situation was simple, for her: she coulddo more of what she'd already done. or she could stand by and do nothing. it was her choice. lasciel appeared in front of me for the firsttime, on her hands and knees. she looked… odd. too thin, her eyes too sunken.

she had always looked strong, healthy, andconfident. now, her hair was a wreck, her face twistedwith pain, and… … and she was crying. she looked blotchy, and she needed a tissue. her hands touched either side of my face. "it could hurt you. it could inflict brain damage. do you understand what that could mean, harry?" never can tell.

it might be nice to have brain damage. i already liked jell-o. and maybe they'd havecable tv at whatever home they wound up sticking me in. either way, it would be better than havingmy brains scooped out by ghouls. lasciel stared at me for a moment and thenlet out a choking little laugh. "it's your brother. your friends. that's why." if frying my brain got murphy, ramirez, thomas,and justine out of the mess i'd gotten them

into, it would be worth it. she stared at me for another long moment. thud-thump : 1:27. then a look of almost childish resentmentcame over her face, and she looked over one shoulder before turning back to me. "i…" she shook her head and said, very softly,wonderingly, "she… doesn't deserve you." deserved or not, the fallen angel wasn't gettingme. not ever.

lasciel squared her shoulders and straightened. "you're right," she said. "it is my choice. listen to me." she leaned closer, her eyes intent. "vittorio has been given power. that is how he can do this. he is possessed." i wished i could have raised my eyebrows.

possessed by what? "an outsider," lasciel said. "i have felt such a presence before. this attack is drawn directly from the mindof the outsider." gosh, that was interesting. not relevant, but interesting. "it is relevant," lasciel said, "because ofthe circumstances of your birth—because of why you were born, harry. your mother found the strength to escape lordraith for a reason."

what the hell was she talking about? thud-thump : 1:26. "there was a complex confluence of events,of energies, of circumstances that would have given a child born under them the potentialto wield power over outsiders." which didn't make any sense. outsiders were all but immune to magic. it took power garnered only from centuriesof study and practice, wielded by the most powerful wizards on the planet, even to slowthem down. "strange, then, don't you think, that youdefeated one when you were sixteen years old?"

what? since when? the only serious victory i'd had over a spiritualentity when i was that young had been when my old master had sent an assassin demon afterme. it hadn't turned out the way dumorne had beenhoping. lasciel leaned closer. "he who walks behind is an outsider, harry. a terrible creature, the most potent of thewalkers, a powerful knight among their ruling entities.

but when he came for you, you overthrew him." true. i had. it was all still a little blurry, but i rememberedthe end of the fight well enough. lots and lots of kaboom, and then no moredemon. and there was a burning building. thud-thump : 1:25. "listen," lasciel said, giving my head a littleshake. "you have the potential to hold great powerover them.

you may be able to escape the power now heldover you. if you are sure it is what you want, i cangive you an opportunity to defy malvora's sending. but you'll have to hurry. i don't know how long it will take to throwit off, and they are almost upon you." after which, we were going to have a longtalk about my mother and these outsiders and their relation to the black court and exactlywhat the hell was going on. lasciel—lash, rather—nodded once and said,"i will tell you all that i can, harry." then she rose and stepped past me and towardthe oncoming ghouls and vitto malvora.

her clothes made a slow, soft rustle as shestepped away from me, and marcone's stopwatch went thud — tick, tick, tick… for just a second, no more than a heartbeator two, i remained impaled on that horrible pike of psychic anguish. then an odd sensation fell over me, and idon't know precisely how to describe it, except to say that it felt like stepping from brutal,burning sunlight into a sudden, deep shadow. then that horrible pain eased—not much,but enough to let me suddenly move my arms and my head, enough to know that i could act.

so i froze in place. "mine!" howled a voice, so distorted withlust and violence that it sounded like nothing human. "she is mine!" footsteps came closer, thump-drag, thump-drag. i saw vittorio's horribly burned leg go byin my peripheral vision. the sensation of shade began to fade at theedges, with the power of vittorio's spell returning by slow degrees, like sunlight beginningto burn its way through a sheet of frosted glass.

"little raith bitch," vittorio snarled. "what i do to you will make your father'sblood run cold." there was the sound of a heavy blow. i twitched my head a tiny bit to one sideto get a look at what was around me. a lot of really huge ghouls, that was what,apparently no less fierce for being battered and torn by the battle. vittorio stood over lara, his face pale, hisleg horribly burned. he had his right hand held out, the hand thatprojects energy, fingers spread, and i could still feel the terrible power radiating fromthem.

he was maintaining the pressure of the spellthat held everyone down, then—and i could see, from the reaction of the ghouls aroundhim, that they were feeling the bite of the spell, too. it seemed only to make them flinch and cowera little, rather than incapacitating them entirely. maybe they were more used to feeling suchthings. he kicked lara in the ribs, twice more, heavyand ugly kicks that cracked bones. lara let out little sounds of pain, and ithink it was that, more than anything, that let me push the paralyzing awl of hostilemagic completely away from my mind.

i moved one hand, and that slowly. from the lack of outcry, i took it that noone noticed. "we'll put a pin in this, for now, littleraith bitch." he whirled toward my brother. "i had intended to find you, you know, thomas,"vittorio continued. "an outcast like you, i assumed, might beinclined to throw in his lot with someone with a more equitable vision for the future. but you're like some sad dog, too ugly tobe allowed into the house, but faithfully defending the master that holds him in contempt.

your end isn't going to be pretty, either." he started to turn toward me, smiling. "but first, we start with the busybody wizard." he finished the turn, saying, "burns hurt,dresden. have i mentioned how much i hate being exposedto fire?" no sense in wasting perfectly good irony. i waited until he said fire to spin and pullthe trigger on marcone's shotgun. the weapon bucked hard—i hadn't had timeto brace it properly—and slammed into my shoulder with bruising force only partly attenuatedby my duster.

the blast pretty well removed vittorio's righthand at the middle of his forearm. the way i hear it, amputation is bad for yourconcentration. it certainly wasn't good for vittorio's, andyou can't hold up the pressure on a spell like he'd been using without concentration. there was a sudden surge of particularly intensediscomfort through the spell as vittorio's physical trauma sent a flare of energy throughit, like feedback on an enormous speaker. the ghouls howled in agonized reaction tothe surge of discord, and it gave me a second or so to act. i lashed out with both legs and got vittorioin one of his knees—the one that wasn't

all burned. a kick to the knees doesn't bother a vampirefrom the red court—their actual knees are all backward anyway. a black court vampire wouldn't have been anythingbut annoyed at having a hand blown off with a shotgun. vitto wasn't either. when he wasn't drawing upon the power gainedfrom his hunger, he was pretty much human. and while i'm a wizard and all, i'm also afairly big guy. tall and skinny, sure, but when you get tallenough, even skinny guys are pretty darned

heavy, and i've got strong legs. his knee bent in backward and he fell witha scream. before he could recover, i was up on one kneewith the shotgun's stock against my shoulder and its long barrel against vittorio's nose. "back off!" i shouted. i was going for cool and strong, but my voicecame out sounding angry and not overly burdened with sanity. "tell them to back off!

vittorio's face was twisted with surpriseand pain. he blinked at the shotgun, then at me, andthen at the stump of his right hand. i couldn't hear or see the stopwatch anymore,but my head provided the sound effect. tickticktickticktick. how much time was left? less than sixty seconds? around me, the ghouls, recovered from theirmoment of pain, began to let out a steady, low growl, like the rumbling engines of severaldozen motorcycles. i kept my eyes focused on their boss.

if i took a moment to get a good look at allthe bits of feral anatomy around me that might start ripping into my flesh at any second,i would probably cry. that would be unmanly. "b-back!" vittorio stammered. then he said something in a language thatsounded vaguely familiar, but that i didn't understand. he repeated it in a half scream, and the ghoulsedged a couple of inches away from us. ticktickticktick.

"this is what happens," i told vittorio. "i take my people. i go through the gate. i close it. you get to live." i leaned into the shotgun a little, makinghim flinch. "or we can all go down together. i'm feeling ambivalent toward which way wego, so i'll leave it up to you." he licked his lips.

"y-you're bluffing. pull that trigger, and the ghouls will killeveryone. you won't l-let them die for the pleasureof killing me." "it's been a long day. i'm tired. not thinking real clearly. and the way i see it, you got me pretty muchdead to rights here, vitto." i narrowed my eyes and spoke very quietly. "do you really think i'll let myself go downwithout taking you with me?"

he stared at me for a long moment, and lickedhis lips. "g-go," he said, then. "go." "wakey, wakey! now is not the time to lie down and die." i heard my brother groan. "harry?" "lara, can you hear me?" "quite," she said.

thomas's older sister was already on her feet,from the sound, and her voice was coming from close behind me. "thomas, get marcone and get him through thegate." i gave vittorio a fierce glare. "don't move. don't even twitch." vittorio, his face in agony, held up his lefthand, fingers spread. he was bleeding, a lot, and started shivering. there wasn't any fight left in his face.

he'd hit me with his best shot, and i'd apparentlyshrugged it off. i think it had scared the hell out of him. losing his hand hadn't helped his morale any,either. "don't shoot," he said. "just… d-don't shoot." he shot a glance around at the ghouls andsaid, "l-let them go." i heard marcone let out a groan, and thomasgrunted with effort. "okay," thomas said from behind me.

"i'm through." i kept the gun on vittorio and stood up, tryingnot to let the barrel waver. how many seconds did i have left? thirty? twenty? i've heard about people who can keep trackof wild situations like this while keeping a steady count, but apparently i wasn't oneof them. i took a step back, and felt lara's back pressingagainst mine. from the corner of my eye, i could see thatthe ghouls had spread out all around us.

if she hadn't been there, one of them couldhave blind-sided me without any trouble the second i was a couple of feet away from vittorio. gulp. i took a step back, forcing myself to movesmoothly, steadily, when my instincts were screaming at me to run. "three more steps," lara told me in a whisper. "a little more to your left." i corrected the direction of my next step,trusting her word. one step more, and i could hear winter windsighing behind me.

silver moonlight shone on the barrel of theshotgun. and then i found out whether or not cowl wasactually there. there was a surge of power, an abrasive screamagainst my arcane senses, and the offspring of a comet and a pterodactyl came hurtlingout of the darkness at the far end of the cavern. my eyes had adjusted enough to see a dim ovalof reddish light that outlined a heavily cloaked figure—cowl, standing in his own gate. "master!" vittorio cried, his voice slurred.

"look out!" i screamed, and thrashed behind me with myarm as i ducked and lurched to one side, trying to sweep lara out of the flying thing's pathas i did. it missed us by inches, but we got out ofthe way. cowl's leathery, rasping voice hissed somethingin a slithering tongue, and a second surge of power lashed invisibly across the cavern—notat us, but at my gate. and as quickly as that, my gate began to close,the opening sewing itself shut like a ziploc bag—starting with the end closest to me. the gate was closing far more quickly thani could have gotten up and moved.

i wasn't getting out. but lara might. "lara!" something with the strength of a freight trainand the speed of an indy car seized my duster and hauled on it so hard that it wrenchedmy neck and nearly dislocated my arms. "dresden!" called marcone's voice from theclosing gate. "nineteen!" i hurtled through the air. looking wildly around showed me that larahad seized me and leaped for the far end of

the collapsing gate. "eighteen!" came marcone's shout. lara and i flew through empty and unremarkableair. the gate had closed. we missed it. chapter forty-two the only light was the dim scarlet glow fromcowl's gate, and everything had become blood and shadows. the eyes of dozens of ghouls burned like nearlydead coals as they turned toward us, reflecting

that lurid luminescence. "lara," i hissed. "this cavern goes up in seventeen seconds,and there are ghouls in the tunnel out." "empty night," lara swore. her voice was thready with pain and fear. "what can i do?" good question. there had to be… wait.

there might be a way to survive this. i was too tired to work any magic, but… "you can trust me," i said. "that's what you can do." she turned her pale, beautiful, gore-smatteredface to me. "done." "get us to the tunnel's mouth." "but if there are ghouls there already—" "hey!"

i said. "tick, tick!" before i'd gotten to the end of the firsttick, lara had seized me again and hauled us across the floor to the mouth of the tunnel. behind me, cowl was shouting something, andso was vittorio, and the ghouls set up a howl and were running after us. only one of the ghouls was close enough toget in the way, but lara's wicked little wavy-bladed sword ripped straight across its eyes andleft the monster momentarily stunned with pain.

lara dumped me at the mouth of the tunnel,and i took a couple of steps back in, checking the smooth tunnel walls as i shook out myshield bracelet. that demonic flying thing of cowl's bankedaround for another pass. "what now?" lara demanded. the ghouls were coming. they were nowhere near as fast as lara hadbeen, but they weren't far away. i took a deep breath. "now," i said.

"kiss me. i know it seems weir—" lara let out a single, ravenous snarl andwas abruptly pressed up against me, arms sliding around my waist with sinuous, serpentine power. her mouth met mine and . . . . . . ohmygod. lara had once boasted that she could do moreto me in an hour than a mortal woman could in a week. but it ain't boasting if it's true.

the first, searing second of that kiss wasindescribably intense. it wasn't simply the texture of her lips. it was how she moved them, and the simple,naked hunger beneath every quiver of her mouth. i knew she was a monster, and i knew she wouldenslave and kill me if she could, but she wanted me with a passion so pure and focusedthat it was intoxicating. that succubus kiss was a lie, but it mademe feel, within that single moment, strong and masculine and powerful. it made me feel that i was attractive enough,strong enough, worthy enough to deserve that kind of desire.

and it made me feel lust, a primal need forsex so raw, so scorching, that i felt sure that if i didn't find expression for thatneed—here and now —that i would surely go insane. the fires that surged up in me weren't limitedto my loins. it was simply too hot, too intense for that,and my whole body felt suddenly aflame with need. every inch of me was suddenly supernaturallyaware of lara, in all her blood-soaked sensuality, in all her wanton desirability, pressed againstme, the mostly transparent white silk of her gown doing less to conceal her nudity thanthe black blood of her foes.

now., my body screamed at me. take her. now. fuck the stopwatch and the bombs and the monsters. forget everything and feel her and nothingelse. it was a close thing, but i held back enoughto keep from forgetting the danger. the lust nearly killed me—but lust is anemotion, too. i embraced that lust, allowed it to enfoldme, and returned the kiss with nearly total abandon.

i slid my right hand around the succubus'swaist, and down, pulling her hips hard against me, feeling the amazing strength and elasticityand rondure of her body on mine. with my left hand, i extended the shield bracelettoward the cavern, the bombs, the onrushing ghouls—and i fed that tidal force of lustthrough it, building up the energy i would need, some part of me shaping and directingit even as the rest of me concentrated on the mind-consuming pleasure of that singlekiss. the clocks stopped ticking. the explosives went off. cleverness, determination, treachery, ruthlessness,courage, and skill took a leave of absence,

while physics took over the show. tremendous heat and force expanded from theexplosives. it swept through the cavern in an almightysword of fire, laying low anything unfortunate enough to have remained within. i saw, for one flash-second, the outline ofthe ghouls, still charging us, unaware of what was about to happen, against the white-hotfireball that expanded through the chamber. and then that blast hit my shield. i didn't try to withstand that incrediblesledgehammer of expanding force and energy. it would have shattered my shield, meltedmy bracelet to my wrist, and crushed me like

an egg. the shield wasn't meant to do that. instead, i filled the space at the mouth ofthe cave with flexible, resilient energy, and packed layer upon layer of it behind theshield, and more of it all around us. i wasn't trying to stop the energy of theexplosion. i was trying to catch it. there was an instant of crushing compression,and i felt the pressure on my shield like a vast and liquid weight. it flung me from my feet, and i held hardto lara, whose arms gripped me in return.

i began to tumble, blinded by the flame, andfought to hold the shield, now hardening it all around us, into a sphere, constrictingit around us until we were pressed body-to-body. we hurtled up the tunnel, flung out aheadof the explosion like a ship ahead of a hurricane—or, more accurately, like a ball being fired downthe barrel of a long, stony musket. the shield banged against the smooth walls,dragging more effort out of me. a single outcropping might have stopped ourprogress for a disastrous instant, shattering stone, shield, succubus, and shamus into onebig mess. thank god the vanity of lara's family hadmade sure the walls of the tunnel were polished smooth and gleaming.

i didn't see the ghouls guarding the upperreaches of the tunnel, so much as i felt them hit the shield and be smashed aside and splatteredlike bugs, only to be consumed by the flood of fire washing up the tunnel after us. i don't know how fast we were going, beyond"very." the explosion flung us up the long tunnel,and out into the night air and up through the branches of a couple of trees—whichshattered under the force. then we were arcing through the night, spinning,with stars above us whipping by and a long tongue of angry flame emerging from the entranceto the deeps below. and all the while, i was locked in the heatedecstasy of lara's kiss.

i lost track of what was happening somewherenear the top of the arc, right about when lara's legs twined with mine and she rippedaside my shirt and hers to press her naked chest against me. i had just begun wondering what it was i'dforgotten about how kissing lara was not the best idea when there was a horrible crashingsound that went on for several seconds. we weren't moving. the shield wasn't under pressure, and i wasso dizzy and tired that i couldn't string two thoughts together. i lowered the shield with a groan of reliefthat was lost in an answering moan of need

from the succubus in my arms. "st-stopped," i said. "lara… st-stop." she pressed closer, parted my lips with hertongue, and i thought that i was going to explode, when she suddenly let out a hissand recoiled from me, a hand flying to her mouth—but not before i saw the blistersrising from the burned flesh around her lips. i fell slowly to my back and lay there gaspingin the near-dark. there were several small fires nearby. we were in a building of some kind.

there were a lot of broken things. i was sure to get blamed for this one. lara turned away from me, huddling in uponherself. "bloody hell," she said after a moment. "i can't believe you're still protected. but it's old… my intelligence said ms. rodriguez hadn'tleft south america." "she hasn't," i croaked. "you mean…"

she turned and blinked at me, astonishmenton her face. "dresden… do you mean to say that the lasttime you had relations with a woman was nearly four years ago?" "depressing," i said. "isn't it." lara shook her head slowly. "i had just always assumed that you and ms.murphy…" i grunted. "no.

she… she doesn't want to get serious withme." "and you don't want to be casual with her,"lara said. "there's an outside chance that i have abandonmentissues," i said. "still… a man like you and it's been fouryears …" she shook her head. "i have enormous personal respect for you,wizard. but that's just… sad." i grunted again, too tired to lip off. "saved my life just now, i suppose." lara looked back at me for a moment and thenshe… turned pink.

"yes. it probably did. and i owe you an apology." "for trying to eat me?" she shivered, and the tips of her breastssuddenly stood out against the white silk. she'd rearranged her clothes to cover them. i was too tired to feel more than a littledisappointed about it. "for losing control of myself. i confess, i thought that we were facing ourlast moment.

i'm afraid i didn't restrain myself very well. for that, you have my apologies." i looked around and realized, dimly, thatwe were in some part of the raith chateau itself. "hngh. i'm, uh. sorry about the damage to your home here." "under the circumstances, i'm inclined tobe gracious; you saved my life." "you could have saved yourself," i said quietly.

"when the gate was closing. you could have left me to die. you didn't. thank you." she blinked at me as if i had just startedspeaking in alien tongues. "wizard," she said after a moment. "i gave you my word of safe passage. a member of my court betrayed you. betrayed us all.

i could not leave you to die without forsakingmy word—and i take my promises seriously, mister dresden." i stared quietly at her for a moment and thennodded. then i said, "i notice that you didn't goterribly far out of your way to save cesarina malvora." her lips twitched up at the corners. "it was a difficult time. i did all that i could to protect my houseand then the other members of court in attendance. more's the pity that i could not save thatusurping, traitorous bitch."

"you couldn't save that usurping, traitorouslord skavis, either," i noted. "life is change," lara replied quietly. "you know what i think, lara?" i asked. her eyes narrowed and fastened on me. "i think someone got together with skavisto plan his little hunt for the low-powered-magic folks. i think someone encouraged him to do it. i think someone pointed it out as a greatplan to usurp mean old lord raith's power

base. and then i think that same someone probablynudged lady malvora to move, to give her a chance to steal lord skavis's thunder." lara's eyelids lowered, and her lips spreadin a slow smile. "why would someone do such a thing?" "because she knew that skavis and malvorawere going to make a move soon in any case. i think she did it to divide her enemies andfocus their efforts into a plan she could predict, rather than waiting upon their ingenuity. i think someone wanted to turn skavis andmalvora against one another, keeping them

too busy to undermine raith." i sat up, faced her, and said, "it was you. pulling their strings. it was you who came up with the plan to killthose women." "perhaps not," lara replied smoothly. "lord skavis is—was—a well-known misogynist. and he proposed a plan much like this oneonly a century ago." she tapped a finger to her lips thoughtfullyand then said, "and you have no way of proving otherwise."

i stared at her for a long moment. then i said, "i don't need proof to act onmy own." "is that a threat, dear wizard?" i looked slowly around the ruined room. there was a hole in the house, almost perfectlyround, right through the floors above us and the roof four stories above. bits and pieces were still falling. "what threat could i possibly be to you, lara?" i drawled.

she took in a slow breath and said, "whatmakes you think i won't kill you right here, right now, while you are weary and weakened? it would likely be intelligent and profitable." she lifted her sword and ran a fingertip languidlydown the flat of the blade. "why not finish you right here?" i showed her my teeth. "you gave me your word of safe passage." lara threw back her head in a rich laugh. "so i did."

she faced me more directly, set the swordaside, and rose. "what do you want?" "i want those people returned to life," ispat at her. "i want to undo all the pain that's been inflictedduring this mess. i want children to get their mothers back,parents their daughters, husbands their wives. i want you and your kind never to hurt anyoneever again." right in front of my eyes, she turned froma woman into a statue, cold and perfectly still. "what do you want," she whispered, "that imight give you?"

"first, reparations. a weregild to the victims' families," i said. "i'll provide you with the details for each." "second, this never happens again. one of yours starts up with genocide again,and i'm going to reply in kind. starting with you. i'll have your word on it." her eyes narrowed further. "done," she murmured.

"the little folk," i said. "they shouldn't be in cages. free them, unharmed, in my name." she considered that for a moment, and thennodded. "anything else?" "some listerine," i said. "i've got a funny taste in my mouth." that last remark drew more anger out of herthan anything else that had happened the entire night.

her silver eyes blazed with rage, and i couldfeel the fury roiling around her. "our business," she said in a whisper, "isconcluded. get out of my house." i forced myself to my feet. one of the walls had fallen down, and i walkedcreakily over to it. my neck hurt. i guess being moved around at inhuman speedgives you whiplash. i stopped at the hole in the wall and said,"i'm glad to preserve the peace effort," i said, forcing the words out.

"i think it's going to save lives, lara. your people's lives, and mine. i've got to have you where you are to getthat." i looked at her. "otherwise, i'd settle up with you right now. don't get to thinking we're friends." she faced me, her face all shadowed, the lightof slowly growing fires lighting her from behind. "i am glad to see you survived, wizard.

you who destroyed my father and secured myown power. you who have now destroyed my enemies. you are the most marvelous weapon i have everwielded." she tilted her head at me. "and i love peace, wizard. i love talking. laughing. relaxing." her voice dropped to a husky pitch.

"i will kill your folk with peace, wizard. i will strangle them with it. and they will thank me while i do." a cold little spear slid neatly into my guts,but i didn't let it show on my face or in my voice. "not while i'm around," i said quietly. then i turned and walked away from the house. i looked blearily around me, got my directions,and started limping for the front gate. on the way there, i fumbled mouse's whistleout of my pocket and started blowing it.

i remember my dog reaching my side, and holdingon to his collar the last fifty yards or so down the road out, until molly came sputteringup in the blue beetle and helped me inside. then i collapsed into sleep. i'd earned it. chapter forty-three i didn't wake up until i was back home, andthen only long enough to shamble inside and fall down on my bed. i was out for maybe six hours, and then iwoke up with my whole back fused into one long, enormous muscle cramp.

i made some involuntarily pathetic noises,and mouse rose up from the floor beside my bed and jogged out of my room. molly appeared from the living room a momentlater and said, "harry? what's wrong?" "back," i said. "my back. freaking vampire tart. wrenched my neck." molly nodded once and vanished.

when she came back, she had a small blackbag. "you were holding yourself sort of strangelylast night, so after i dropped you off, i borrowed mother's medicine bag." she held up a bottle. "muscle relaxants." a jar. "tiger balm." she held up a plastic container of dust. "herbal tea mix shiro found in tibet.

great for joint pain. my father swears by it." "padawan," i said, "i'm doubling your pay." "you don't pay me, harry." "tripling it, then." she gave me a broad smile. "and i'll be happy to get you all set up justas soon as you promise to tell me everything that happened. that you can, i mean.

oh, and sergeant murphy called. she wanted to know as soon as you were awake." "give her a ring," i said. "and of course i'll tell you about it. is there any water?" she went and got me some, but i needed herhelp to sit up enough to drink it. that was embarrassing as hell. i got more embarrassed when she took my shirtoff with a clinical detachment, and then winced at all the bruises.

she fed me the muscle relaxants and set towith the tiger balm, and it hurt like hell. for about ten minutes. then the stuff started working, and the not-painwas a drug of its own. after a nice cup of tea—which tasted horrible,but which made it possible to move my neck within ten or twenty minutes of drinking it—iwas able to get myself into the shower and get cleaned up and into fresh clothes. it was heavenly. nothing like a nightmarish near-death experienceto make you appreciate the little things in life, like cleanliness.

and not being dead. i spent a minute giving mister some attention,though apparently he'd slept with molly, because he accepted maybe a whole thirty seconds ofstroking and then dismissed me as unnecessary once he was sure i was in one piece. normally, he needs some time spread acrosssomeone's lap to be himself. i ruffled mouse for a while instead, whichhe enjoyed dutifully, and then got myself some food and sat down in the chair acrossfrom molly on the couch. "sergeant murphy's on the way," molly reported. "good," i told her quietly

"so tell me about it." "you first." she gave me a semiexasperated look, and startedtalking. "i sat in the car being invisible for… maybean hour? mouse kept me company. nothing much happened. then bells started ringing and men startedshouting and shooting and the lights went out. a few minutes later, there was a great bigexplosion—it moved the rearview mirror out

of position. then mouse started making noise like you saidhe would, and we drove to the gate and he jumped out of the car and came back with you." i blinked at her for a minute. "that sounds really boring." "but scary," molly said. "very tense." she took a deep breath and said, "i had tothrow up twice, just sitting there, i was so nervous.

i don't know if… if i'm going to be cutout for this kind of thing, harry." "thank god," i said. "you're sane." i took a few more bites of food and then said,"but i need to know how much you want to know." molly blinked and leaned toward me a little. "what?" "there's a lot i can tell you," i said. "some of it is just business. some of it is going to be dangerous for youto know about.

it might even obligate you in ways you wouldn'tlike very much." "so you won't tell me that part?" she asked. "didn't say that," i said. "i'm willing. but some of this stuff you'd be safer andhappier not knowing. i don't want to endanger you or trap you intofeeling you have to act without giving you a choice about it." molly stared at me for a minute while i gobbledcereal. then she frowned, looked down at her handsfor a minute, and said, "maybe just tell me

what you think is best. for now." "good answer," i said quietly. and i told her about the white court, aboutthe challenge and the duel, about vittorio's betrayal and how he gated in the ghouls andhow i'd had my own backup standing by in the nevernever. molly said. "how did you do that?" "thomas," i said.

"he's a vampire, and they have the abilityto cross into the nevernever at certain places." "what kind of places?" molly asked. "places that are, ah," i said, "importantto them. relevant to them in a particular way." "places of lust, you mean," molly said. i coughed and ate more cereal. "yeah. and places where significant things have happenedto them.

in thomas's case, he was nearly sacrificedby a cult of porn-star sorceresses in those caves a few years a—" "i'm sorry," molly said, interrupting. "but it sounded like you said 'cult of porn-starsorceresses.'" "oh," she said, giving me a skeptical look. "sorry, then. keep going." "anyway. he nearly died there, so i knew he could findit again.

he led marcone and murphy there, and theywere camped out, waiting for me to open a gate." "i see," molly said. "and you all ganged up on this vittorio guyand killed him?" "not quite," i said, and told her what happened,leaving out any mention of lasciel or cowl. molly blinked as i finished. "well. that explains it, then." "explains what?"

"there were all kinds of little lights goingby the windows all night. they didn't upset mouse. i thought maybe it was some kind of sending,and figured the wards would keep it out." she shook her head. "it must have been all the little faeries." "they hang around all the time anyway," isaid. "it just takes a lot of them before it's obviousenough to notice." i chewed cheerios thoughtfully. "more mouths to feed.

guess i'd better call pizza 'spress and stepup my standing order, or we'll have some kind of teeny faerie clan war over pizza rightson our hands." i finished breakfast, found my back stiffeningagain, after sitting still, and was stretching out a little when murphy arrived. she was still in her party clothes from thenight before, complete with a loaded backpack. after kneeling down to give mouse his hug,she surprised me. i got one, too. i surprised myself with how hard i huggedback. molly occasionally displayed wisdom beyondher years.

she did now, taking my car keys, showing themto me, and departing without a word, firmly shutting the door behind her. "glad you're okay," i told murphy. "yeah," she said. her voice shook a little, even on that oneword, and she took a deep breath and spoke more clearly. "that was fairly awful. even by your usual standards. you made it out all right?"

"nothing i won't get over," i told her. "you had any breakfast?" "don't think my stomach is up for much, afterall that," she said. "i have cheerios," i said, as if i'd beensaying "dark chocolate caramel almond fudge custard." murphy sighed. "how can i resist." we sat down on the couch, with murphy's heavybag on the coffee table. murphy snacked on dry cheerios from a bowlwith her fingers.

"okay," i told her. "first things first. where is my gun?" murphy snorted and nodded at her bag. i got in and opened it. my .44 was inside. so was murphy's boxy little submachine gun. i picked it up and eyed it, then lifted itexperimentally to my shoulder. "what the hell kind of gun is this?"

"it's a p90," murphy said. "see-through plastic?" "that's the magazine," she said. "you can always see how many rounds you haveleft." "it's tiny." "on a hyperthyroid stork like you, sure,"murphy said. i frowned and said, "full automatic. ah. is this weapon precisely legal?

even for you?" she snorted. "no." "where'd you get it?" "kincaid," she said. "last year. gave it to me in a box of belgian chocolate." i took the weapon down from my shoulder, flippedit over, and eyed a little engraved plate on the butt.

" 'we'll always have hawaii,' " i read aloud. "what the hell is that supposed to mean?" murphy's cheeks turned pink. she took the gun from me, put it in the bag,and zipped it firmly closed. "did we ever decide who blew up my car?" "probably madrigal," i said. "you stood him up for that cup of coffee,remember?" "because he was busy kidnapping you and attemptingto sell you on ebay," murphy said. i shrugged.

"vindictive doesn't equal rational." murphy frowned, the suspicious-cop look onher face something i was long used to seeing. "maybe. but it doesn't feel right. he liked his vengeance personal." "who then?" "vittorio wasn't interested in drawing outthe cops. neither was lord skavis's agent. lara raith and marcone don't do bombs."

"exactly," murphy said. "if not madrigal, then who?" "life is a mystery?" i suggested. "it was probably madrigal. maybe one of the others had a reason for itthat we don't know. maybe we'll never know." "i hate that." "harry, wouldn't a decent human being be inquiringafter his wounded friends and allies about

now?" "i assumed if there was bad news, you'd havetold me already," i said. she gave me a steady look. "that," she said, "is so archetypically male." i grinned. "how is everyone?" "ramirez is in the hospital. same floor as elaine, actually, and we'rewatching them both. unofficially, of course."

we meaning the cops. good people. "how is he?" "still had some surgery to go, when i left,but the doctor said his prognosis was excellent, as long as they can avoid infection. he got his guts opened up by that knife. that can always be tricky." i grunted, and had my suspicions about wheremolly had gone when she borrowed my car. "he'll make it.

what about that poor no-neck you abused?" "mister hendricks is there with two of thosemercenaries. marcone has some of his people guarding them,too." "cops and robbers," i said. "one big, happy family." "one wonders," murphy said, "why marcone agreedto help." i settled back on the couch and rubbed atthe back of my neck tilth one hand, closing my eyes. "i bribed him."

"with what?" murphy asked. "a seat at the table," i said quietly. "huh?" "i offered marcone a chance to sign on tothe unseelie accords as a freeholding lord." murphy was quiet for a moment, and then shesaid, "he wants to keep expanding his power." she thought about it a minute more and said,"or he thinks his power might be threatened from someone on that end." "someone like the vampires," i said.

"the red court had defacto control of prostitutionin chicago until bianca's place burned down. and an agent of the white court has just shownup and killed one of his prostitutes." "are we sure it was madrigal?" "i am," i said. "no way to prove it, but he was the raithinvolved in this mess." "that was more or less an accident," murphysaid. "taking out one of marcone's people, i mean." "she's just as dead," i replied. "and marcone won't stand by when someone—anyone—killsone of his own."

"how does becoming a… what was it? and how does it help?" "freeholding lord," i said. "it means he's entitled to rights under theaccords—like rights of challenge when someone kills his employees. it means that if a supernatural power triesto move in on him, he'll have an opportunity to fight it and actually win." "are there many of these lords?" "nope," i said.

"i had bob look into it. maybe twenty on the whole planet. two dragons, drakul—the original, not babyvlad—the archive, the ceo of monoc securities, some kind of semi-immortal shapeshifter guruin the ukraine, people like that. the accords let them sign on as individuals. they have the same rights and obligations. most people who consider the idea aren't willingto agree to be a good, traditional host for, let's say, a group of black court vampires,and don't want to get caught up as a mediator in a dispute between the major powers.

they don't want to make themselves the targetsof possible challenges, either, so not many of them even try it." i rubbed at my jaw. "and no one who is just a vanilla human beinghas tried it. marcone is breaking new ground." murphy shook her head. "and you were able to set him up for it?" "you have to have three current members ofthe accords vouch for you to sign on," i said. "i told him i'd be one of them."

"you can speak for the council in this?" "when it comes to defending and protectingmy area of responsibility as a warden, i damned well can. if the council doesn't like it, they shouldn'thave dragooned me into the job." murphy chewed on some cheerios, scrunchedup her nose in thought, and then gave me a shrewd look. "you're using marcone." i nodded. "it's only a matter of time before someonelike lara raith tries to push for more power

in chicago. sooner or later they'll swamp me in numbers,and we both know si will always have their hands tied by red tape and politics. if marcone signs the accords, he'll have astrong motivation to oppose any incursion—and the means to do so." "but he's going to use his new means to securehis position here even more firmly," murphy said quietly. "make new allies, probably. gain new resources."

he's using me, too." i shook my head. "it isn't a perfect solution." "no," murphy said. "it isn't" "but he's the devil we know." neither of us said anything for several minutes. "yes," murphy admitted. "he is."

murphy dropped me off at the hospital andi headed straight for elaine's room. i found her inside, dressing. she was just pulling a pair of jeans up overstrong, slender legs that looked just as good as i remembered. when i opened the door, she spun, thorn-wandin hand. i put my hands up and said, "easy there, gunslinger. i'm not looking for any trouble." elaine gave me a gentle glare and slippedthe wand into a small leather case that clipped to the jeans.

she did not look well, but she looked a lotweller than she had the last time i'd seen her. her face was still quite pale and her eyeswere sunken and bruised, but she moved with brisk purpose for all of that. "you shouldn't sneak up on people like that,"she said. "if i'd knocked, i might have woken you up." "if you'd knocked, you'd have missed out onan outside chance of seeing me getting dressed," she shot back. "touche."

i glanced around and spotted her bag, allpacked. my stomach twisted a little in disappointment. "shouldn't you be in bed?" "have you ever tried to watch daytime television? i was glad when the set finally blew. i'd lose my mind just lying here." "how you feeling?" "a lot better," elaine said. "stronger.

which is another reason to leave. i don't want to have a nightmare and havemy powers kill some poor grampa's respirator." "so it's back to california?" i've done enough damage for one trip." i folded my arms and leaned against the door,watching her brush back her hair enough to get it into a tail. she didn't look at me when she asked, "didyou get them?" she closed her eyes, shivered, and exhaled. "okay."

"that shouldn't make me feel better. it won't help anna." "it will help a lot of other people in thelong run," i said. she abruptly slammed the brush against therail of the bed, snapping it. "i wasn't here trying to help a lot of otherpeople, dammit." she glanced down at the brush's handle andseemed to deflate for a moment. she tossed it listlessly into a corner. i went over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "this just in.

elaine isn't perfect. news at eleven." she leaned her cheek on my hand. "you should know," i said. "i got reparations out of the white court. a weregild for their dependents." she blinked at me. "how?" "my boyish charm.

can you get me contact information for thevictims' families? i'll get somebody to get the money to them." "some of them didn't have any dependents. like anna." i grunted and nodded. "i thought we might use that money to buildsomething." elaine frowned at me. "oh?" "we use the money.

we expand the ordo, build a network of contacts. a hotline for middle-class practitioners. we contact groups like the ordo in citiesall around the country. we put the word out that if people are insome kind of supernatural fix, they can get word of it onto the network. maybe if something like this starts happeningagain, we can hear about it early and stomp on the fire before it grows. we teach self-defense classes. we help people coordinate, cooperate, supportone another.

we act." elaine chewed on her lip and looked up atme uncertainly. "we?" "you said you wanted to help people," i said. "this might. what do you think?" she stood up, leaned up onto her toes, andkissed me gently on the lips before staring into my eyes, her own very wide and bright. "i think," she said quietly, "that anna wouldhave liked that."

ramirez woke up late that evening, swathedin bandages, his injured leg in traction, and i was sitting next to his bed when hedid. it was a nice switch for me. usually i was the one waking up into disorientation,confusion, and pain. i gave him a few minutes to get his bearingsbefore i leaned for-ward and said, "hey, there, man." "harry," he rasped. "thirsty." before he was finished saying it, i pickedup the little sports bottle of ice water they'd

left next to his bed. i put the straw between his lips and said,"can you hold it, or should i do it for you?" he managed a small glare, fumbled a hand up,and held on to the bottle weakly. he sipped some of the water, then laid hishead back on the pillow. "okay," he said. "how bad is it?" "alas," i said. "you'll live." "where?"

"hospital," i said. "you're stable. i've called listens-to-wind, and he's goingto come pick you up in the morning." "we win?" "bad guys go boom," i said. "the white king is still on his throne. peace process is going to move ahead." "tell me." so i gave him the battle's last few minutes,except for lash's role in things.

"harry dresden," ramirez murmured, "the humancannonball." "bam, zoom, right to the moon." he smiled a little. "you get cowl?" "doubt it," i said. "he was right by his gate. when he saw me running for the exit, ten toone he just stepped back through it and zipped it shut. in fact, i'm pretty sure he did.

if there'd been an open gate there, the blastwould have been able to spread into it. i don't think we would have been thrown sofar." "how about vitto?" "vitto was pretty far gone even before thebombs went off. i'm pretty sure we nailed him, and those ghouls,too." "good thing you had that army on standby,huh," ramirez said, a faint edge to his voice. "hey," i said, "it's late. i should let you get some rest." "no," ramirez said, his voice stronger.

"we need to talk." i sat there for a minute, bracing myself. then i said, "about what." "about how tight you are with the vamps,"he said. "about you making deals with scumbag mobsters. i recognized marcone. i've seen his picture in the papers." ramirez shook his head. "jesus christ, harry.

we're supposed to be on the same team. it's called trust, man." i wanted to spit something hostile and venomousand well deserved. i toned myself down to saying, "gee. a warden doesn't trust me. that's a switch." ramirez blinked at me. "don't worry about it. i'm used to it," i said.

"i had morgan sticking his nose into everycorner of my existence for my entire adult life." ramirez stared at me for a second. then he let out a weak snort and said, "allhail the drama queen. harry…" he shook his head. "i'm talking about you not trusting me, man." my increasingly angry retort died unspoken. "uh.

what?" ramirez shook his head wearily. "let me make some guesses. one. you don't trust the council. you never have, but lately, it's been worse. especially since new mexico. you think that whoever is leaking informationto the vampires is pretty high up, and the less anyone in the council knows about whatyou're doing, the better."

i stared at him and said nothing. "two. there's a new player in the game. cowl's on the new team. we don't know who they are, but they seemto have a hard-on for screwing over everyone equally—vampires, mortals, wizards, whoever." he sighed. "you aren't the only one who's been noticingthese things, harry." "what do you call them?"

"the black hats, after our ringwraith-wannabebuddy, cowl. you?" "the black council," i said. "oooh," ramirez muttered. "yours is better." "thanks," i said. "so you can't trust our own people," he said. "but you're cutting deals with the vampires…" he narrowed his eyes.

"you think you might be able to find the traitorcoming in from the other side." i put my finger on my nose. "and the gangster?" ramirez asked. "he's a snake," i said. "but his word is good. and madrigal and vitto had killed one of hispeople. and i know he isn't working for cowl's organization." "how do you know that?"

"because marcone works for marcone-" ramirez spread his hands weakly. "was that so damned hard, dresden? to talk to me?" i settled back in my chair. my shoulders suddenly felt loose and wobbly. i breathed in and out a few times, and thensaid, "no." ramirez snorted gently. "idiot."

"so," i said. "think i should come clean to the merlin?" ramirez opened one eye. he hates your guts. he'd have you declared a traitor, locked up,and executed before you got through the first paragraph." he closed his eye again. "but i'm with you, man. all the way."

you don't have much endurance after goingthrough something like ramirez had. he was asleep before he realized it was aboutto happen. i sat with him for the rest of the night,until senior council member listens-to-wind arrived with his team of medical types beforedawn the next morning. you don't leave an injured friend all alone. the next day, i knocked on the door to theoffice at executive priority and went in without waiting for an answer. "tonight you will be visited by three spirits,"i announced. "the ghosts of indictment past, present, andfuture.

they will teach you the true meaning of 'youare still a scumbag criminal.'" marcone was there, sitting behind the deskwith helen beckitt, or maybe helen demeter, i supposed. she wore her professionally suggestive businesssuit—and was sitting across marcone's lap. her hair and suit looked slightly mussed. marcone had his third shirt button undone. i cursed my timing. if i'd come ten minutes later, i'd have openedthe door in medias res. it would have been infinitely more awkward.

"dresden," marcone said, his tone pleasant. helen made no move to stir from where shewas. "it's nice to see you alive. your sense of humor, of course, remains unchanged,which is unsurprising, as it seems to have died in your adolescence. presumably it entered a suicide pact withyour manners." "your good opinion," i said, "means the worldto me. i see you got out of the nevernever." "simple enough," marcone said.

"i had to shoot a few of the vampires, oncewe were clear of the fight. i did not appreciate the way they were attemptingto coerce my employees." "hell's bells." i sighed. "did you kill any of them?" "unnecessary. i shot them enough to make my point. after that, we had an adequate understandingof one another—much as you and i do." "i understand that you settled matters withanna's killers, mister dresden," helen said.

"with help, of course." marcone smiled his unreadable little smileat me. "the people who did the deed won't be botheringanyone anymore," i said. "and most of the people who motivated themhave gone into early retirement." i glanced at marcone. "with help." "but not all of them?" helen asked, frowning. "everyone we could make answer," marcone said,"has answered.

it is unlikely we could accomplish more." something made me say, "and i'm taking stepsto prevent or mitigate this kind of circumstance in the future. here and elsewhere." helen tilted her head at me, taking that in. then she nodded and said, very quietly, "thankyou." "helen," marcone said. "would you be so good as to excuse us fora few moments." "won't take long," i added.

"i don't like being here." helen smiled slightly at me and rose smoothlyfrom marcone's lap. "if it makes you feel any better, mister dresden,you should know that he dislikes having you here as well." "you should see how much my insurance premiumsgo up after your visits, dresden." "and they call me an extortionist. helen, could you send bonnie in with thatfile?" "certainly." helen left.

healthy brunette bonnie, in her oh-so-fetchingexercise outfit, bounced in with a manila folder, gave me a colgate smile, and departedagain. marcone opened the folder, withdrew a stackof papers, and started flicking through them. he got to the last page, turned it around,slid it across the desk, and produced a pen from his pocket. "here is the contract you faxed me. sign here, please." i walked over to the desk, took the entirestack, and started reading it from page one. you never sign a contract you haven't read,even if you aren't a wizard.

if you are one, it's even more important thanthat. people joke about signing away their soulor their firstborn. in my world, it's possible. marcone seemed to accept that. he made a steeple of his fingers and waitedwith the relaxed patience of a well-fed cat. the contract was the standard one for approvinga new signatory of the accords, and though he'd had it retyped, marcone hadn't changeda word. probably. i kept reading.

"so you suggested the name demeter for helen?" i asked as i read. marcone's expression never changed. "yes." "how's persephone?" he stared at me. "persephone," i said. "demeter's daughter. she was carried away by the lord of the underworld."

marcone's stare became cold. "he kept her there in hades, but demeter frozethe whole world until the other gods convinced him to return persephone to her mother." i turned a page. "the girl. the one in the coma, who you're keeping ina hospital somewhere, and visiting every week. that's helen's daughter, isn't it. the one who got caught in the cross fire ofone of your shoot-outs." marcone didn't move.

"newspaper file on it said she was killed,"i said. i read several more pages before marcone answered. "tony vargassi, my predecessor, i suppose,had a son. marco. marco decided that i had become a threat tohis standing in the organization. he was the shooter." "but the girl," i said, "didn't die." marcone shook his head. "it put vargassi in an awkward position.

if the girl recovered, she might identifyhis son as the shooter, and no jury in the world would fail to send a thug to jail who'dshot a pretty little girl. but if the girl died, and it came back onmarco, he'd be looking at a murder charge." "and someone who murders little girls getsthe needle in illinois," i said. "exactly. there was a great deal of corruption at thetime—" i snorted. marcone's little smile returned for a moment. "pardon me.

say instead that the vargassis exerted theirinfluence on official matters with a heavy hand. vargassi had the little girl declared dead. he convinced the medical examiner to signfalse paperwork, and he hid the girl away in another hospital." "if marco got identified as the shooter andput up for trial, vargassi could produce the little girl. look, she's not dead. mistrial."

"one possibility," marcone replied. "and if things went quietly for a while, hecould simply delete her records." "and her," i said. "whatever happened to old tony vargassi?" i saw a flash of marcone's teeth. "his whereabouts are unknown. as are marco's." "when did you find out about the girl?" "two years later," he said.

"everything was set up through a dummy corporation'strust fund. she could have just…" he looked away from me. "just lain there. indefinitely. no one would have known who she was. known her name." "does helen know?" i asked him.

he was quiet for a moment more. "i can't return persephone from hades. the child's death almost destroyed helen—andher world is still frozen. if she knew her daughter was… trapped…just lying there in a half-life…" "it would shatter her world, dresden. and i shouldn't wish that." "i've noticed," i said quietly, "that mostof the young ladies working here would be about the same age as her daughter." "yes," marcone said.

"that isn't exactly a healthy recovery." "no," marcone said. "but it's what she has." i thought about it while i kept reading. maybe helen deserved to know about her daughter. hell, she probably did. but whatever else marcone was, he was no fool. if he thought news of her daughter's fatemight shatter helen, he was probably right. sure, she should know.

but did i have the right to make that decision? probably not—even if marcone wouldn't dohis best to have me killed if i tried. hell, i probably had less right to decidethan marcone. he had way more invested in the girl and herfate than i did. because that was the secret i'd seen in asoulgaze with gentleman johnnie marcone, years ago. the secret that gave him the strength andthe will to rule the mean streets. he felt responsible for the little girl who'dtaken a bullet meant for him. he'd taken over chicago crime with ruthlessefficiency, always cutting down on the violence.

a couple of people had been hurt in gang-relatedcrimes. the gangsters responsible hadn't been heardfrom again. i'd always assumed it was because marconehad decided to manipulate matters, to make himself appear to be a preferable alternativeto more careless criminals who might take his place if the cops took him down. i'd never even considered the idea that hemight actually give a crap about innocents being harmed. granted, that didn't change anything. he still ran a business that killed far morepeople than any amount of collateral damage.

he was still a criminal. still a bad guy. but… he was the devil i knew. and he probably could have been worse. i got to the last page of the contract andfound spaces for three signatures. two of them were already filled. "donar vadderung?" i asked marcone.

"current ceo of monoc securities," marconereplied. "oslo." "and lara raith," i murmured. "signing on behalf of her father, the whiteking, who is obviously in charge of the white court." there was a trace of irony in marcone's voice. he hadn't been fooled by the puppet show. i looked at the third open line. then i signed it, and left without anotherword.

it isn't a perfect world. i'm doing the best i can. "hmmmm." said bob the skull, peering at myleft hand. "it looks like…" i was sitting in my lab, my hand spread openon the table, white the skull examined my palm. i'd worn a mark there for years—an unblemishedpatch of skin amidst all the burn scars, in the perfect shape of the angelic sigil thatwas lasciel's name. the mark was gone.

in its place was just an irregular patch ofunburned skin. "it looks like there's no mark there anymore,"bob said. "thank you, bob," i said. "it's good to have a professional opinion." "well, what did you expect?" bob said. the skull swiveled around on the table andtilted up to look at my face. "hmmmmm. and you say the entity isn't responding toyou anymore?"

and she's always jumped every time i saidfrog." "interesting," bob said. "what's that supposed to mean?" "well, from what you told me, this psychicattack the entity blocked for you was quite severe." i shivered, remembering. "yeah." "and the process she used to accelerate yourbrain and shield you was traumatic as well." "right.

she said it could cause me brain damage." "uh-huh," bob said. "i think it did." "see what i mean?" bob asked cheerfully. "you're thicker already." "harry get hammer," i said. "smash stupid talky skull." for a guy with no legs, bob backpedals swiftlyand gracefully.

"easy there, chief; don't get excited. but the brain damage thing is for real." i frowned. "explain, please." "well, i told you that the entity in yourhead was like a recording of the real lasciel, right?" "that recording was written in your brain,in portions you weren't using." "right." "i think that's where the damage is.

i mean, i'm looking at you right now, andyour head has been riddled with tiny holes, boss." i blinked and rubbed my fingers over my scalp. "it doesn't feel like that." "that's because your brain doesn't sense injuries. it manages sensing injuries for the rest ofyou. but trust me, there's damage. i think it wiped out the entity." "wiped out… you mean, like…"

"killed it," bob said. "technically, it was never alive, but it wasconstructed. it's been deconstructed, and…" "and what?" "and there's, um, a portion of you missing." "i'm sure i would have felt that," i said. "not your body," bob said scornfully. "your life force. your chi.

your soul." "whoa, wait a minute. part of my soul is gone?" bob sighed. "people get all excited when you use thatword. the part of you that is more than merely physical,yes. you can call it whatever you want. there's some missing, and it's nothing topanic over." "part of my soul is gone and i'm not supposedto be worried about that?"

i demanded. "happens all the time," bob said. "you shared a bunch of yours with susan, andshe with you. it's what protected you from lara raith. you and murphy swapped some pretty recently,looks like—you must have gotten a hug or something. honestly, harry, you really ought to bangher and get it over wi—" i reached under the worktable, drew out aclaw hammer, and gave bob a pointed look. "um, right," he said.

"back to business. uh, your soul. you give away pieces of yourself all the time. everyone does. some of it goes out with your magic, too. it grows back. relax, boss." "if it's no big deal," i said, "then why isit so interesting?" "oh, well," bob said.

"it is energy, you know. and i wonder if maybe… maybe… well, look,harry. there was a tiny bit of lasciel's energy inyou, supporting the entity, giving you access to hellfire. that's gone now, but the entity had to havehad some kind of power source to turn against the essence of its own originator." "so it was running off my soul? like i'm some kind of battery ?" "hey," bob said, "don't get all righteous.

you gave it to her. encouraging her to make her own choices, torebel, to exercise free will." bob shook his head. "free will is horrible, harry, believe me. i'm glad i don't have it. ugh, no, thank you. but you gave her some. you gave her a name. the will came with it."

i was quiet for a moment, then said, "andshe used it to kill herself." "sort of," bob said. "she chose which areas of your brain weregoing to take the worst beating. she took a psychic bullet for you. i guess it's almost the same thing as choosingto die." "no, it isn't," i said quietly. "she didn't choose to die. she chose to be free." "maybe that's why they call it free will,"bob said.

"hey, tell me that at least you got a ponyride before the carnival left town. i mean, she could have made you see and feelanything at all, and…" bob paused, and his eyelights blinked. "hey, harry. are you crying?" "no," i snapped, and left the lab. the apartment felt… very empty. i sat down with my guitar and tried to sortout my thoughts. it was hard.

i was feeling all kinds of anger and confusionand sadness. i kept telling myself that it was the emotionalfallout of malvora's psychic assault, but it's one thing to repeat that to yourselfover and over, and quite another to sit there feeling awful. i started playing. beautifully. it wasn't perfect performance—a computercan do that. it wasn't a terribly complex bit of music. my fingers didn't suddenly regain their completedexterity—but the music became alive.

my hands moved with a surety and confidencei usually felt only in bursts a few seconds long. i played a second piece, and then a third,and every time my rhythm was on, and i found myself seeing and using new nuances, variationson chords that lent depth and color to the simple pieces i could play—sweet sadnessto the minor chords, power to the majors, stresses and resolutions i'd always heardin my head, but could never express in life, it was almost like someone had opened a doorin my head, like they were helping me along. i heard a very, very faint whisper, like anecho of lash's voice. everything i can, dear host.

i played for a while longer, before gentlysetting aside my guitar. then i went to call father forthill and tellhim to come over, so that he could pick up the blackened denarius as soon as i dug itout of my basement. i picked up thomas outside his apartment andtailed him as he crossed town. he took the el over toward the loop, and hitthe sidewalks again. he looked tense, and paler than usual. he'd blown an awful lot of energy killingthose ghouls, and i knew he'd have to feed—maybe dangerously—to recover what he'd lost. i'd called him the day after the battle andtried to talk to him, but he'd remained reticent,

remote. i'd told him i was worried about him, afterblowing that much energy. he'd hung up on me. he'd cut short two more calls since. so, being as how i am a smart and sensitiveguy who respects his brother's feelings, i was tailing him to find out what the hellhe was trying so hard not to talk to me about. this way, i was sparing him all the effortand trouble of telling me about it by finding out all on my own. like i said, i'm sensitive.

and thoughtful. and maybe a little stubborn. thomas wasn't being very careful. i would have expected him to move around thecity like a long-tailed cat at a rocking chair convention, but he sort of trudged along,fashionable in his dark slacks and loose, deep crimson shirt, his hands in his pockets,his hair hiding his face most of the time. even so, he attracted more than a little feminineattention. he was like a walking, talking cologne commercial,except that even silent and standing he was making women look over their shoulders athim, while coyly rearranging their hair.

he finally stalked into the park tower, andwent into a trendy little boutique-slash-coffee shop calling itself the coiffure cup. i checked a clock, and thought about followinghim in. i could see a few people inside, where a coffeebar backed up to the front window. a couple of fairly pretty girls were gettingthings set up behind the counter, but i couldn't see any more than that. i found a spot where i could watch the doorand loomed unobtrusively—which is easier than you'd think, even when you're as tallas i am. a couple of women whose hair and nails screamed"beautician" came in later.

the boutique opened for business a few minutesafter thomas got there, and immediately began doing a brisk trade. a lot of evidently wealthy, terribly attractive,generally young women started coming and going. it put me in a quandary. on the one hand, i didn't want anyone to gethurt because my brother had exerted himself so furiously on my behalf. on the other, i didn't particularly care togo in and find my brother lording it over a roomful of worshipful women like some darkgod of lust and shadow. i chewed on my lip for a while, and decidedto go on in.

if thomas had… if he had become the kindof monster his family generally did, i owed it to him to try to talk some sense into him. or pound it in. whichever. i pushed open the door to the coiffure cupand was immediately, pleasantly assaulted by the aroma of coffee. there was techno music playing, thumping bouncilyand mindlessly positive. the front room contained the coffee bar, afew little tables, and a little podium next to a heavy curtain.

even as i came in, one of the young womenbehind the bar came out to me, gave me a bubbly, caf-feinated smile, and said, "hi! do you have an appointment?" "no," i said, glancing back at the curtains.' "um, i just need to talk to someone. one second." "sir," she said in protest, and tried to hurryinto my path. my legs were longer. i gave her a smile and outdistanced her, pushingthe curtain aside.

the techno music grew a little louder as iwent through. the back room of the boutique smelled theway boutiques always do, of various tonsorial chemicals. a dozen styling stations, all in use, stoodsix on a side, marching up to a rather large and elaborate station on a little raised platform. at the base of the little platform was a pedicurestation, and a young woman with a mud mask, and cucumber slices, and a body posture ofblissful relaxation was lounging through a pedicure. on the other side, another young woman wasunder a dryer, reading a magazine, her expression

heavy and relaxed with that postcoiffure glow. on the main chair on the platform, a deluxenumber that leaned back to a custom shampoo sink, another young woman lay back with ablissful expression while having her hair washed. by thomas. he was chatting with her amiably as he worked,and she was in the middle of a little laugh when i came in. he leaned down and said something in her ear,and though i couldn't hear the substance of it, it came across in an unmistakable just-us-girlskind of tone, and she laughed again, replying

in a similar manner. thomas laughed and turned away, practicallyprancing over to a tray of… styling implements, he came back with a towel and, i swear togod, a dozen bobby pins held in his lips. he rinsed her hair and started pinning. "sir!" protested the coffee girl, who hadfollowed me into the room. everyone stopped and looked at me. even the woman with the cucumbers over hereyes took one of them off and peered at me. thomas froze. his eyes widened to the size of hand mirrors.

he swallowed, and the bobby pins fell outof his mouth. all the women looked back and forth betweenus, and there was an immediate buzz of whispers and quiet talks. "you have got to be kidding me," i said. "o-oh," thomas said. "ah-ree." one of the stylists glanced back and forthbetween us and said, "thomas." (she pronounced it toe-moss.) "who is your friend?"

friend. oy vey. i rubbed at the bridge of my nose with onehand. i was never going to get away from this one. not if i lived to be five hundred. thomas and i sat down at a table over cupsof coffee. "this?" i asked him without preamble. "this is your mysterious job?

this is the moneymaking scam?" "it was cosmetology school first," thomassaid. he spoke in a french accent so thick thatit barely qualified as english. "and night work as a security guard in a warehousewhere no one else ever showed up, to pay for it." i rubbed at my nose again. "and then… this ? here i'm thinking you'vecreated your own batch of personal thralls while running around as a hired killer orsomething, and… you're washing hair ?" it was difficult to keep my voice quiet, buti made the effort.

there were too many ears in that little place. thomas sighed. yes. washing, cutting, styling, dying. i do it all, baby." "i'll bet." then it hit me. "that's how you're feeding," i said. "i thought that took…"

"sex?" thomas asked. "intimacy. trust. and believe me, next to sex, washing and stylinga woman's hair is about as intimate as you can get with her." "you're still feeding on them," i said. "it isn't the same, harry. it isn't as dangerous—more like… sipping,i suppose, than taking bites.

i can't take very much, or very quickly. but i'm here all day and it…" he shivered. "it adds up." he opened his eyes and met mine. "and there's no chance i'm going to lose controlof myself. they're safe." he shrugged a shoulder. "they just enjoy it."

i watched the woman who'd been under the hairdryer come out, smile at thomas, and pick up a cup of coffee on the way out. she looked… well, radiant, really. confident. she looked like she felt sexy and beautiful,and it was quite pleasant to watch her move while she did. thomas watched her go with what i recognizedas his look of quiet possession and pride. "they enjoy it a lot." he gave me one of his brief, swift grins.

"i imagine there's a lot of husbands and boyfriendsenjoying it, too." "but they're addicted to it, i'd imagine." he shrugged again. "some, maybe. i try to spread myself around as much as ican. it isn't a perfect solution—" "but it's the one you've got," i said. "what happens when you try to wash somebody'shair and it turns out that they're in love? protected?"

"true love isn't as common as you'd think,"thomas said. "especially among people rich enough to affordme and superficial enough to think that it is money well spent." "but when they do show?" "that's why i've got all the hired help, man. i know what i'm doing." "all this time and…" i snorted and sipped at some coffee. it was amazing.

smooth and rich and just sweet enough, andit probably cost more than a whole fast-food meal. "they all think i'm your lover, don't they." "this is a trendy, upper-class boutique, harry. no one expects a man with a place like thisto be straight." "uh-huh. and the accent, toe-moss?" he smiled. "no one would pay that much money to an americanstylist.

please." he shrugged. "it's superficial and silly, but true." he glanced around, suddenly self-conscious. his voice lowered, and his accent dropped. "look. i know it's a lot to ask…" it was an effort not to laugh at him, buti managed to give him a hard look, sigh, and say, "your secret is safe with me."

he looked relieved. "merci ." "hey," i said. "can you stop by my place tonight after work? i'm putting something together that mighthelp people if someone else starts something like those white court bozos just tried. i thought maybe you'd want to be in on it." "um, yeah. yeah, we can talk about it."

i sipped more coffee. "maybe justine could help, too. might be a way to get her out, if you wantto do it." "are you kidding?" "she's been working for a year to get closerto lara." i blinked up at him. "hell's bells, i thought she was acting weird,"i said. "she came on all zonked out, like the mindlessparty girl, but she dropped it a couple of times, where i could see.

i just put it down to, well. weirdness." "she's been getting information to me. nothing huge, so far." "does lara know about her?" thomas shook his head. "she hasn't tipped to it yet. justine is, as far as lara is concerned, stillone more helpless little doe." he glanced up.

"i talked it over with her. she wants to stay. she's lara's assistant, most of the time." i exhaled slowly. if justine stayed in place, and was willingto report on what she knew… intelligence gathered at that level could turn the entirecourse of the war—because even if the white court's peace proposal went through, it justmeant a shift in focus and strategy. the vamps weren't about to let up. "dangerous," i said quietly.

"she wants to do it," he said. "i take it you've been in touch with lara?" "of course," thomas said. "given my recent heroism"—his voice turnedwry—"in defense of the white king, i am now in favor in the court. the prodigal son has been welcomed home withopen arms." "really?" "well," thomas amended, "with reluctant, irritatedarms, anyway. lara's miffed about the deeps."

"guess the bombs weren't good for them." thomas's teeth showed. "the whole place just collapsed in on itself. there's a huge hole in the ground, the plumbingat the manor got torn up, and the foundation cracked. it's going to cost a fortune to fix it." "poor lara," i said. "no more convenient corpse-disposal facilities." he laughed.

"it's nice to see her exasperated. she's usually so self-assured." "i have a gift." he nodded. "you do." we sat quietly for a few minutes. "thomas," i said, finally, gesturing at theroom. "why didn't your tell me about this?" he shrugged and looked down.

"at first? because it was humiliating. i mean… working nights to put myself throughcosmetology school? starting my own place and posing as…" he waved a hand down at himself. "i thought… i don't know. at first i thought you'd disapprove or…laugh at me or something." i kept a straight face.

never." "and after that… well. i'd been keeping secrets. i didn't want you to think i didn't trustyou." "in other words you didn't trust me. to understand." his cheeks turned very slightly pink and helooked down. "um. i guess so, yeah.

sorry." "don't worry about it." he closed his eyes and nodded and said, "thanks,harry." i put a hand on his shoulder for a second,then dropped it again. nothing else needed to be said. thomas gave me a suspicious look. "now you're going to laugh at me." "i can wait until you've turned your back,if you like." he grinned at me again.

"it's all right. i sort of stopped caring about it after igot fed steady for a few weeks straight. feels too nice not to be starving again. laugh all you want." i looked around the place for a minute more.

the coffee girls were having a private conversation,evidently discussing us, if all the covert glances and quiet little smiles were any indication. i couldn't help it. i burst out laughing, and it felt good.

steel toe snake proof boots 2017-06-27T04:31:00-07:00 Rating: 4.5 Diposkan Oleh: PaduWaras