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     Thankfully, Molly and I were spared the awkward and never wracking experience of having to jointly attend Sunday night dinner with her parents while hiding our relationship for a third week in a row.   Molly received a summons from Mab in the early hours of the morning, giving me a hasty kiss before dashing away. I drifted back to sleep and wasn’t too surprised when she wasn’t back by the time I woke up, but I had an uneasy feeling. It was less than a week to Halloween and that had never been a good time of the year for me. Still, it wasn’t uncommon for her to be gone all day, so I didn’t panic.  When dinner time came I headed across the street, played with the kids, helped Maggie with her homework, and ate dinner.  Afterward, I did the dishes and came home. There was still no sign of Molly.

    I sat in bed, reading the first in a series of books that Will had told me I had to read. So far I hated every single character I’d met, but he assured me it got better as it went on, so I trusted him. At one in the morning, I finally gave up, turned out the light and went to sleep.  I found a note on the bedside table in the morning which read:

      Jerk,

         Going to be out of town on business for a while. Came home to grab some things. You were asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you up. Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’ll be home in time for the party. Shh, it’s a surprise, don’t tell Harry.

                                                                  All yours, always ♡

     I tried to decide what to make of it. I was no handwriting expert but if this was a forgery it was a good one. Mab had set her to some task that would keep her in the Nevernever for enough time that she needed to let me know she’d be back in time for Halloween. She hadn’t signed her name or mine and to an outside observer, this note might not have even been written to me. After all, it mentioned not to tell me about my own surprise party.

      Monday was impossibly slow. I had no cases to work on, everyone else was at work. Once school let out, I picked up Maggie (after letting Charity know, of course) and took her to a mall about an hour outside of town. She had casually suggested that it might be nice to have clothes that weren't hand-me-downs a few times and it was a good excuse to spend time with her. The entire car ride she told me about her friends, her teacher, her classes. She liked English and science and math. She didn’t like history or gym class. She liked listening to music, she informed me as we walked across the parking lot, but she didn’t like music class because she couldn’t play any instruments, so they just gave her the tambourine.

     “That’s not even an instrument. It’s just something that makes noise.” She grumbled, and she sounded so much like me that I couldn’t help but laugh. She shot me a glare that was 50% Susan, 50% Charity and I sobered up quickly.

    “Have you ever tried to play the guitar?” I asked.

    “I tried it once, but I have stupid fingers and they don’t do what I want them to do.” She stared down at her hands.

     “Everybody has stupid fingers when they start out. You have to practice to teach them.” I glanced over at her quickly then casually said, “You know, I could show you some stuff on the guitar if you wanted.”

     “Really?!?!” Two big brown eyes stared up at me like I was the whole world for one moment, and my heart swelled.

    “I-if you wanted to. Maybe you could come over to Molly’s house after school sometimes, and we could practice.” I sounded way too relaxed for how hard my heart was pounding.

    “Yes please!” she hugged my arm tightly, like she would never let go and that would have been just fine with me. I didn’t need that arm. I just needed my little girl.

     “Okay, well let’s get you some clothes and then on the way out, we’ll stop by the music store and see what they have, okay?”

    I made a critical error as we entered the mall, one which I’ve since been careful never to repeat. I’ve learned that much like when you’re dealing with fae, when you’re dealing with children, especially young Dresden-spawn, you must be very careful about what you say and how you say it. The words that left my lips were “Sure, get whatever you want.” And my daughter took me at my word.

      If there were ever any doubts that she was my kid, they were erased the moment she made a bee-line to the bookstore. “I thought we were clothes shopping?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

      “You said whatever I wanted.” She gave me a sheepish grin. “I’ll be quick.” I laughed, knowing that for the lie it was from the many times I’d said it myself. Someday soon I’d have to teach her the wonders of a used bookstore. These big commercial chains smelled like plastic and chemicals instead of dust and aged paper, but for today I was content to follow her around the store while she browsed.

     “Blech. No.” I said when she reached for a Harry Potter boxed set. She withdrew her hand quickly, looking abashed. “Oh, hey, no, I was just teasing. You can read whatever you want to.”

     “A-are you sure?” She kept her eyes averted. “Cause Missus Carpenter says we’re not allowed to read them.”

    Hmm. “Does she really?” She nodded. “And why’s that?”

    “It glorifies witchcraft.” She intoned in a passable Charity impression. I ground my teeth, trying not to let my face show it.

     “Well, I say you can have them. If Mrs. Carpenter doesn’t like it, she can take it up with me.” I grabbed the set off the shelf and tucked them under one arm. “Come on kiddo, this will tide you over for now.” I had to force myself not to storm over to the counter and checked my anger when the lights started flickering.

     We went to about half a dozen different clothes stores, where she bought a variety of outfits. New shirts, new shoes, new dresses. While she shopped, I was lost in thought. For not the first time, I wondered if leaving my daughter in the care of devout Catholics was the best choice. Angelic protection, plus the warmth, stability, and support of a family and kids who were basically her siblings were really great benefits, as someone who spent most of his life without any of that. But I’d also seen what growing up in that house had done to Molly.

      Maggie was a good kid. She was smart and clever, and tremendously sweet and kind. She was shy, not in the awkward standoffish way I had been as a child, just quiet and timid. She didn’t make friends easily, though she got along well with other children when she needed to. But she was also stubborn and willful. Once she'd gotten an idea in her head, you had better be very persuasive if you wanted to change her mind.  It wasn’t rebellion, she wasn't trying to be contrary, she just wasn’t going to follow orders if she didn't understand why.  Having witnessed Molly’s teenage rebellion and the screaming matches that had ensued when she questioned authority,  I was skeptical about Charity's ability to manage a soon-to-be teenage Dresden.

     Plus, there were emotional issues to consider. Maggie had been through a lot for a 10-year-old. Hell, she’d been through a lot for a 90-year-old. While she'd come out of it physically unharmed, she wasn’t free from it entirely.  We were still figuring out some of the things that triggered her PTSD, and when it happened, she'd run anywhere from light tears to catatonic staring and shaking. Panic attacks were down to a weekly occurrence from hourly. She would sometimes wake up screaming and be completely inconsolable for hours after. Michael and Charity handled it as best they could but, was I more qualified to deal with that? I definitely had more personal experience in dealing with it.

     And the biggest concern: there was strong magic running through her veins. Only time would tell for sure, but I really doubted that she’d prove to be just a vanilla mortal. I knew in my bones that she would inherit my “gift”. It could happen any day now. Molly had been 14. Elaine and I had been younger than Maggie. Of course, we’d gone through a good degree of trauma but…but. So had she. Hell, for all I knew…

     We left the current store with three additional bags. I was starting to consider fastening a luggage rack to Mouse to carry everything. I grabbed her hand as she started off and steered her over to a seating area.  It was perfectly out of the way, a small bench with a very fake tree behind it, nestled in an alcove between two storefronts. I sat on the bench and she climbed up next to me. She didn't say anything, but she watched me curiously as I tried to decide how to phrase my question. 

     “Maggie, have you ever read any of these Harry Potter books before?”

    “Oh,  well, ummm-" She immediately got flustered and I tried to hide my smile.

    “It's okay,  you're not in trouble,” I said encouragingly.

     She gave me a crooked, reluctant smile. “Well, I maybe borrowed the first one from the library. But they don’t have the second one.”

    “Well now you’ve got a more complete collection than the library, so there’s something to be proud of.” I grinned, meeting her eyes for just a second until she grinned back. “And, have you ever, um, done anything like Harry Potter?”

    “You mean, like, magic?” She whispered.

    “Mhm. I mean just that.”

    Maggie shook her head. “I wish! That would be so cool!” She stared at her feet, kicking one foot lightly with the other. “Miss Molly says you’re a wizard.”

    “I am,” I conceded,  answering her unasked question. “And so is Molly.”

   “Awesome.” She said with a quiet smile. “Miss Molly is so cool. I want to be just like her when I'm a grown-up.”

     “No!” My panicked yelp was too loud, and I found myself involuntarily reaching for my daughter as if I could hold her back from going down the same roads Molly and I had been down. I caught myself and could see I’d startled Maggie and forced myself to calm down before responding. “No, honey, you don't want to be just like Molly when you grow up, trust me. But there’s a really easy way to be as cool as she is. Want to know the secret?” She nodded fervently. “Be yourself. Nothing is cooler than being the real, happy, true you. Trust me on that one kid.”

    She was quiet for a while, thinking. Slowly she took on a look of solemn consternation, her small brow furrowed, her lips pursed. The expression was too old for such a young face. Finally, just as I was about to ask if she was ready to go, she said: “I know I’m supposed to respect and listen to them, but I don’t think Mister and Missus Carpenter are right about some things.”

     “Mr. Carpenter is the kindest, wisest man I’ve ever met, and Mrs. Carpenter is both a fierce, brave warrior and a loving, loyal mother and wife. In general, you'll listen to them and take their advice to heart if you’re smart, which I know you are.”

    “But they say that magic and witchcraft are sinful. And I thought about…stuff…when they said that, and it made sense. But, now, I don’t think that’s true at all. Is it?”

    I sighed. Christ, I was not equipped to have this kind of conversation. No person, child or otherwise, should have to come to me for moral guidance. I passed a hand across my face. “I honestly don't know,  Maggie. I don't…The Carpenters and I don't practice the same religion. I know that what they're teaching you is what their church says is true.  It's true for them.”

    “Well, I don't think it's true at all.” She set her jaw, her face determined. “Miss Molly is good. She’s nice, and she watches after us, and she helps me when I get lost in the dark places.  She taught me how to count my breaths until I make it to the other side. And you’re my daddy. You fight the monsters and you keep us all safe. I don’t think  either of you would do something if it was bad.”

    “Nobody’s perfect kiddo. ‘Specially me.” I wiped at my eyes. Stupid allergies, making me tear up out of nowhere like that. “And I’ve seen a lot of people use magic to do some really bad stuff in really bad ways. But I agree. I think magic is an energy, a force. It’s what you do with it that matters.” I touched my pentacle where it rested beneath my shirt for a moment. “I also think, that I am very hungry. What say we get some grub,  huh?”

    We made a pit stop at Burger King, where we each proceeded to shovel three Whoppers and large fries into our faces. Clearly, she was a growing girl. Afterward, we loaded up the car and headed back to the city. The music store was closed by the time we finished eating, but I promised Maggie she could practice on mine to start out. Our return trip was comfortably silent.  When I glanced over the first few times,  I noticed her staring out the window, lost in thought. By the time we were back in city limits, she was asleep. 

      My tires crunched on gravel as I pulled up to the house. The streetlights still hadn’t been repaired, but the moon was almost full and the porch light was on, so our path was well illuminated.

     I opened the back door and Mouse managed to grab most of the bags in his thick jaws, careful not to damage any of the contents, and waited patiently until I'd scooped Maggie up to bring her inside before trotting back. Charity shot me a silent glance from the living room as I passed on my way to Maggie’s room. She stirred as I started taking off her shoes. I figured she could sleep just fine in her clothes but the shoes might be a problem.

    “I can do that,” she said with a yawn, eyes bleary from sleep. She looked around. “Are we home already?”

    “Yes, and it seems someone is ready for bed. I hope you didn't have homework?”

    “I already did most of it during class. I'll get the last one done over breakfast tomorrow.”

    “Okay, kiddo.” I kissed her forehead.

    “Thank you for taking me out today. It was a lot of fun.”

    “Anytime. I had fun too.” I hugged her as tight as I could without hurting her. “You’re a pretty great kid, do you know that?”

     She hugged me a little tighter. “Well, you’re a pretty great dad.” Allergies, again?

    “Even if I'm not as cool as Molly?”

    She rolled her eyes. “No one is as cool as Miss Molly.” She thought about it for a moment. “But you're pretty close.”

     I gave her another goodnight kiss and told her I'd talk with the Carpenters to figure out a day next week for her to come over for guitar lessons. My warm happy feelings lasted all the way back to the living room.

     “You shouldn't keep her out so late.” Charity chided.  I looked at the clock. It was just after 9:00.

    “Sorry, I guess we lost track of time. I'll have her back earlier next time.”

    Charity heaved a ‘what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you-?’ sigh. “She's your daughter. You don't have to apologize to me. I'm just trying to help.”

    There was an awkward silence while I tried to think of an appropriate response and came up with none. “She mentioned that she wasn't enjoying music class, so I offered to teach her to play the guitar. I thought I could bring her over to Molly’s a night or two a week if that wouldn't interrupt her schedule too much. Probably not until next week with Halloween coming up and all. I'm not busy yet but, I'm sure something will come up. It always does.”

     Charity gave a short nod. “Let me look at her schedule and we’ll work it out.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you and Molly living together, Harry?”

    “W – what?” I stammered, unprepared. “Living together?  I-“

    “No, no, of course you’re not living together. It just seems like you've been over there more than not lately. Are you living there?”

     “Oh, yes,  I'm sorry.” Some of the tension left my shoulders,  even though part of me wondered exactly what she meant by ‘of course’. “I’ve been looking for a more permanent home for a while now and Molly suggested that I move in. It seemed more convenient.”

     “Good.” She smiled at my surprised look.  “She could use some company. She's becoming more and more odd. I'm sure you've noticed. She's always been the strangest of my children, but ever since she was shot and now with this new job…anyway, even as much of a bad influence as you are to everyone around you, you seem to have a positive effect on her.” A decade ago, this conversation never would have happened. Even a few years ago,  her words would have been barbed and begrudging. But on that day, they were warm and teasing, reminding me that I was part of her family.  Even if she didn't know exactly how involved in the family I was.

      “Did you see her come home?” I asked, absently trying to see if there were any lights on from out of the living room window.

     “No,  I haven't seen her in a couple of weeks. She was supposed to watch the younger ones tomorrow night so that Michael and I could go to bible study, but she called a couple of hours ago to say she was out of town on a business trip.”

    “Did she say when she was coming back?” I asked. Be calm Harry,  be casual. “I'm sure she told me before she left but you know me.”

     “No,  but I'm sure she’ll be back before…Friday.” She finished awkwardly, looking away. “She always loves dressing up for Halloween.”

   “Ah right.” I agreed, pretending I hadn't noticed her almost slip and mention my not-so-surprise party. “Well,  I’ll get out of your hair. Good night,  Charity.”

     “Good night,  Harry.”

     The bed was too cold and empty,  so I went down to tinker in the lab. Bonnie and I conversed about my day,  about Maggie, whether or not she would have magical talent,  and, more realistically, when she'd first use it. We briefly discussed Molly,  but I couldn’t dwell on it too long. She'd been okay enough a few hours ago to call Charity,  so I at least knew that. I tried not to panic.

    I woke up Tuesday morning curled up under the table in the lab. The floor was cold against my face, and my body was stiff. Not a good way to start a morning. I checked the bedroom even though I knew what I’d find. No surprise, the bed was empty, the sheets hadn’t been disturbed. I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that loomed over me as I made my way downstairs and made coffee. It was almost Halloween,  which always meant trouble. So, when the phone rang, I equally wasn’t surprised to hear John Marcone’s voice on the other end.

     “Good morning Harry,” He drawled before I’d even said anything. “I trust you slept well. Hurry up and finish your coffee. There’s a car outside waiting for you. We have business to discuss.” I opened my mouth to tell him where he could go with his presumptions, but he’d already hung up on me. Just to be petty, I took my time finishing my cup of coffee and considered another before deciding that would be overkill.

     “Hey there Cujo,” I said, climbing into the backseat. “You two play fetch now? That’s cute.”

     “I’ve asked you before not to hassle my associates.” I nearly jumped out of my skin when Marcone suddenly appeared across from me.

     “Hells bells! Giving me a heart attack is a great way to catch your car on fire, you know.” I looked him up and down. “Invisibility potion?”

     “Something like that.” He agreed, avoiding the question. He deftly tucked something into the pocket of his suit jacket. “So…this tryst of yours, is it a ploy or genuine?”

     “It’s none of your damn business is what it is,” I replied automatically.

    “Knowledge is my business, Mr. Dresden. For a man like me, it’s the surest means of power.” He glanced at me over steepled fingers. “To be frank, I’m going to go straight to your Queen with this if I even so much as begin to suspect that it’s a plot of some kind. My position is too precarious to risk her ire by keeping secrets, least of all for you.”

     I nodded. Certainly more honesty than I was used to getting from Baron Marcone. I considered carefully. “You know me, Marcone. What do you think?”

    “I think if I were in your position I would do anything to break my yoke. Servitude doesn’t suit men like us.” I tried not to let the surprise show on my face at his assertion that we were the same in any capacity and said nothing. “I would use anything and everything at my disposal to ensure that happened. Including, if necessary, my allies.”

    “I believe that,” I said, nodding slightly. He watched me for a moment more.

    “Whatever else you’re planning, you genuinely have feelings for the girl. You wouldn’t intentionally lead her on otherwise.”

   “Heh. Not intentionally, no.” I agreed. Then, without knowing why, I continued. “I’m not planning anything. I wish I could say I was, but I’ve accepted this. I planned and fought and scraped and it cost me my home, my job, my autonomy, more than one person I cared about, hell, it killed me once. I’m done with plans.” The bitterness in my own voice surprised me. I realized that this was something I hadn’t been able to admit out loud before. How could I, when everyone expected me to be the one that solved everything, that always bounced back? In an odd way, I thought Marcone might be the one to understand without being weighed down by it. I smiled. “But you’re right. This thing with Molly and me? It’s the real deal. I love her.”

    “Yet you say you don’t have a plan.” He scoffed. “Either way…I'm not going to mention anything.  Which means you're in my debt.”

     I sighed heavily. “Of course. And what do you want me to do?” From his briefcase, he produced a series of file folders and handed them to me. They appeared to be profiles on several notable denizens of the Nevernever. I couldn’t see any obvious connections from them, other than the fact that they were all part of Winter; a grogoch named Nechtan so old he looked more like a pile of sticks with eyes than a living being, a very handsome young man named Doug with dark hair who, until he smiled looked human, but his pointed teeth gave him away as a kelpie, a minor sidhe noble that I recognized by face but not by name (it was apparently Athal), an elf with a kind face named Ralolei and a sylph named Zevah, who looked identical to every other sylph I’ve ever seen. Each folder contained a series of photos,  both posed and candid,  a brief summary of the entity including known associates and aliases, and a sheet of notes in neat,  concise handwriting that I knew right away was Marcone’s. Most of the notes, while legible, made little sense to me, things like bene tinker and 16715: Expense – chunk of gin ×35. Preference? “I-is this thieves cant?” I asked in disbelief. 

      “Yes, after a fashion. I'm surprised that you're familiar.” I hid my face inside a folder, not willing to tell Gentleman Johnny Marcone that I had recognized his street cant from playing RPGs with the Alphas.

      “A lot of mid-level power players here, John. None so powerful that they pose a threat, but powerful enough to hold their own in the Nevernever. I have to admit, I'm not seeing the connection other than that.” And the fact that John Marcone associates with all of them, I thought. What little I could glean from his notes made it very clear that he'd been engaged in business dealings with all of these beings,  and nothing good would come of that. He produced another file and handed it to me wordlessly. 

     I was greeted by a close-up photo of the gentleman from the second-to-last profile, the handsome elf, with his neck opened from ear to ear, blood staining his bare shoulders.  The next photo was further away, giving a view of the entire body. He was lying on a bed, wearing nothing but his own blood.  His body appeared otherwise unmarred and it didn't look like he'd struggled much.  There were more photos of the room he was in,  what appeared to be his combination bedroom/living room/kitchen, but nothing jumped out at me.

     “An exceptional man,” Marcone murmured. “I was saddened by the news of his death.”

    “All too easy in the Nevernever to get mixed up with the wrong person,” I replied, although typically this wasn’t how feuds ended. For most fae,  bloodshed was too simple of a solution. You had to play the game,  to outwit your enemy and humiliate them.

     I kept going and found a second set of photos, this time in an alley. I recognized the sylph from her profile as well. She had bruising on her neck and shoulders and her face was badly burned. Her wings had been sheared from her body and were thrown at her feet. A large metal spike (it looked like a railroad tie) had been driven through her heart.

     “Iron,” Marcone confirmed. “Her I don’t miss so much,  but it's still concerning when your associates start turning up dead.” He gazed out the window,  watching Chicago whip past us.  “This is not the favor I had in mind the other day,  but it's more important. The elf was dispatched Sunday evening,  obviously by someone close to him.  The sylph last night.”

     “Any relevant connections?”

    “Well, I met with each of them less than 24 hours before these photos were taken.” He said calmly. “What’s more, I was supposed to be meeting with Nechtan yesterday morning, but he neglected to show and we’ve been unable to find or connect with him since.”

     I grunted, rifling through the folders. “What were you meeting about?”

     His lips curled up into a feline smile. “You know I’m not going to tell you that.”

     “I know. But I need to know anyway.” After a solid minute of him just staring at me with his shit-eating grin, I made an exasperated noise. “Fine, were you discussing the same thing with each of them or different things?”

      “No connection between subjects other than the fact that I stood to gain from the arrangements I was making with each person.”

       “What were you hoping to gain?”

      “A variety of goods, services, and resources.” He flexed the fingers of his right hand where it rested on his knee, as though clenching and unclenching a fist. It would have been a harmless enough gesture on another man, but on always cool and controlled Marcone it jumped out at me. He was furious. “More importantly  the strengthened connections the deals would give me.”

     There it was. Power. The biggest motivator around. I flipped through the profiles a few more times. “So far you’ve mentioned three. You’ve got five folders here.”

     “Yes. I thought it prudent to include everyone I’ve been in negotiations with.” I gave him a skeptical look which he returned with an indulgent smile. “Everyone of a similar profile that I’ve had negotiations with.” He amended.

     “Have you heard anything from these others? Have you reached out to them?”

    “No, I have an appointment with Athal tomorrow morning and Doug tomorrow night. So far their operations have been as normal.”

    “Did you at least warn them to keep their guard up?” He stared at me blankly. “If someone is targeting your known associates, don’t you think they should know?”

     He fixed me with a level gaze.  “Mister Dresden, have you ever assumed that it was safe to do business with me?”

     “I don’t do business with you.” I retorted.

     “I would disagree, but even so, were you to do business with me, would you assume you were safe? From both outside sources and myself?”

     “No, I wouldn’t, but that’s not the same as-“

    “And if you were doing business with any of the individuals in my profiles – I know you wouldn’t, but if you were,” He continued. “Would you assume you were safe?”

     “No, not for a heartbeat, that’s why I don’t treat with fae when I can avoid it.”

    His toothy grin returned “Oh no of course. You would never enter a bargain with one of the sidhe. Just like you’d never welcome one into your bed.”

     He’s trying to goad you on. I told myself. Just ignore him. It was good advice. “At least I have a woman in my bed. Can you say the same? One who’s willing and not on your payroll?”

     His eyes went cold, his fingers twitching again, this time I’m sure toward a gun. “I’m even less eager to discuss the details of my personal life than I am to discuss the details of my business engagements, least of all with you. But my point stands. Doug and Athal know the risks. No, I haven’t called to warn them. That would only serve to drive them to ground and I’d have to restart negotiations all over again when they surface. My hope is that you can head this off before it becomes an issue in the first place.”

      I said nothing, looking over pictures, trying to decipher his notes. I thought over my options, followed lines of thought to possible conclusions and implications. “I’m sorry, but you know I can’t get involved in this.”

     “You can’t afford not to get involved in this.” He replied, simply.

     “Even so. These are all Winter fae, Marcone. If you think these murders are connected, tell the Queen. But if I get involved in Winter business at the behest of a different signatory…” I left it hanging for a moment. Be careful to never wound her pride Kringle had warned. I was confident this would fall into that category.

     “I’m not asking you to kill for me, Harry. I’m just asking for your services as an investigator. Tell me who or what is happening and I’ll take care of it myself.”

     “Look, if she finds out about Molly and I, that’s going to be rough. I don’t know how she’ll react but I’m guessing it won’t be well. But if there’s Court politics going on and I jump right into the middle of it, working for John Marcone, I know it won’t end well for me. Maybe for all of us.” I thought of Lloyd Slate’s eyes as he begged me to kill him and suppressed a shudder.

     Marcone eyed me coolly, looking me up and down slowly. I would have said he was undressing me with his eyes but the look went deeper than that. He was skinning me with his eyes, pulling back muscle and tissue, trying to see into my mind and soul. “Are you so far gone, then?” He asked quietly.

     “Come again?”

     “I’ve told you that two beings have been murdered, a third is missing, more could be in danger. One was killed in his own home, in his own bed, with no defensive wounds or signs of struggle. The other was killed slowly and painfully, right here, in the Chicago streets. Now, I will not stand for that. This is my city, and I will protect it.” Both hands gripped his knees as he leaned forward, sneering as he spoke. “I used to know a man who felt the same way.” I flinched, refusing to meet his gaze. “You’ve never been a coward. An idiot, an idealistic fool, an arrogant bastard, but never a coward, Dresden. Has she succeeded in making you so thoroughly her creature that she’s changed who you are entirely?”

     “I’m not her creature.” I snarled through gritted teeth.

     “Then prove it. You would never have turned down this case, even if I was the one asking.”

     I thought about it. He wasn’t wrong, but there was more to it. No, this wasn’t the mantle controlling me, corrupting me, but it didn’t need to be. He was right. Before everything, I would have given him a hard time about it but ultimately I would have taken the case. Even knowing that it involved sidhe politics. Even knowing that it might involve a brush with Lea or the Winter Court. I would have risked their ire. But it was different now that I was part of it. It was her influence changing my actions, even if it wasn’t magical just practical. Still, my decisions were my own.

    “Okay. I’ll look into it. I’ll need to investigate the scenes if I can and I’ll need some time to review these profiles. But, I need you to know that I truly might not be able to help. If I even start to suspect that this is political, or if the Queen gets involved in any way, I have to bow out. That’s not cowardice, it’s survival instincts.”

    “The Harry Dresden I know never had survival instincts either,” He said with a smile.

     I couldn’t help but smile back. “I just never used them. I’ve got more to survive for now, I guess.” His smile widened just slightly and when he opened his mouth to respond I felt a little leap of panic.

     “Boss,” Hendricks called through the window. “They found Nechtan in his cave.”

    “Alive?” Marcone quietly asked. Hendricks said nothing. “porca puttana!” He punched the seat next to him. “Fine. Take us there.”

Chapter Text

      We had walked around Undertown for what felt like an hour before we finally made our way to the scene. A section of wall had partially collapsed at one point, leaving an opening just large enough for a person to walk through. Beyond there was a short tunnel made of packed earth, which opened onto a small room. The walls and ceiling were made of stone. Water trickled down the far wall, like the world’s thinnest, slowest waterfall. The smell of mud and loam was pervasive, which made sense since everything in the room – a small table with two chairs, a set of bookshelves, the cauldron in the fireplace, the fireplace itself, and the corpse on the floor – were all covered in moss and dirt.

    Nechtan had lived a long life if his accumulated filth was any indication. Grogoch were one of the least terrifying creatures one could encounter in all of faerie, especially in Winter holdings. They resemble small elderly men and they're covered head to toe in thick, coarse hair. Unfortunately for anyone hapless enough to get near them,  they tend to live in caves and dense forests and aren't big on things like “grooming” or “basic hygiene.” Any twigs, leaves, brambles or whatever else gets stuck in their fur on their travels tends to stay with them forever. Nechtan had gotten a lot of stuff stuck to him in his time on earth.

     And all that time hadn’t helped him prevent someone from crushing him to death.

    It looked like someone had hurled him against the wall, as there was a smattering of detritus stuck to it in a roughly Nechtan-ish size and shape. That alone wouldn’t have been enough to kill him, but might have been enough to prevent him from escaping. Grogoch are not known to be particularly good fighters and while I’d never tested it to be sure, I didn’t think they were much more resilient than an actual elderly human, if at all. Once he fell from the wall to the floor, someone had decided to crush him to death. I didn’t see anything around that was large enough to be our murder weapon, so the killer was either smart enough to take it with him or had used magic of some kind. Whether magical or mundane, the force had been so great that he essentially just exploded, creating a blast pattern of muddy blood and body parts that spread out from the puddle of goop that was left of his torso.

     “This doesn’t make sense,” I muttered, searching for any magical residue and finding none. “Why crush him?”

    “To keep him from finalizing our bargain.” Marcone snarled. He’d spent the last few minutes swearing at the wall in English, Italian and a variation of East Asian that I didn’t have enough knowledge to identify while I examined the room.

     “No, I mean, why crush him? It’s messy, which increases the likelihood that some incriminating bit of Nechtan made its way onto our killer. And it's not as though it was a slow death.  It would have been just as quick to shoot him or slit his throat like the first murder.”

     “The first time she was in a position of trust. Nechtan knew he was a potential target. It wouldn't have been as easy a second time.” Marcone reasoned.

     “Mm. True, but there were still better, quicker, easier ways than whatever did this.” I paused for a moment. “And the killer still needed to be someone he trusted. Grogoch only show themselves to people they trust. If he had expected this, he’d have stayed invisible. Which means even with his guard up he still trusted the killer enough to show himself.”

      “Trust has been the downfall of many a man.” Marcone sneered, his feelings on the subject evident on his face.

      I thought suddenly of Molly. Was she home by now, or was she still ‘out of town?’ What was she doing while she was away? For a horrible moment, it occurred to me that she had been called away the same day of the first death, and these were all Winter subjects. We didn’t discuss Winter business when Mab called for either one of us. Would she do something like this? “What’s life without trust, Marcone? No friends. No meaningful relationships. The problem isn’t trusting, it’s trusting the wrong people.”

     “All people are the wrong people, given the right motivation.” He gave me a cool look. “You should know that by now.”

     I shook my head but said nothing in response. “You should get somewhere safe. If you’re not going to warn your other associates, at least reschedule. Go to ground yourself for a few days until we figure this out.”

     “Unacceptable.” He immediately responded. “And unnecessary. My security force is more than capable of handling any threats, as am I personally.”

    “Listen, I don’t personally care what you do. You want to get yourself killed, be my guest, saves me the trouble. But don’t you think your friends here also felt comfortable in their protective charms and wards? I’ve seen sylph literally bathing in the blood of their enemies. She was capable of handling herself as well.”

     “…I'll take extra precautions.” He begrudgingly conceded.

     I gave the room another once over, searching for anything that might be helpful. Nechtan had few possessions, just what he needed to survive day to day. There were no scuff marks in the dirt. Nothing had been disturbed beside Nechtan himself. “Did you have anyone watching this place?”

     “Give me some credit, Dresden. Of course. I’ve had eyes on the entrance since yesterday morning. We saw him leave yesterday afternoon, and we haven’t seen anyone leaving or entering since. One of my men noticed a strange smell and went to investigate to find this.”

    “And they didn't hear anything at all last night?” My best guess put his death around sometime in the early hours of the morning.  I wasn’t a forensics expert but I'd been around enough crime scenes.

    “Nothing but the normal sounds of Undertown. Dripping water, rats scurrying  etcetera. Nothing like footsteps or a struggle.”

    “There’s no way to crush someone to death without making at least some noise. Provided your men are professionals and we can trust that their observations are accurate and that they didn’t fall asleep on the job-“ I glanced at him and he nodded his agreement “someone must have used magic to block sound. Either specifically for your guards or, more likely, for the room overall.”

    “So we’re looking for a wizard, then?”

    “And not just anyone. This would take a considerable amount of power. We’re looking at someone with enough talent to make the Council.” And a subtle hand. And a gift for illusory magic. And no alibis for the last few days. I pushed the thoughts aside. I’d always trusted Molly before, I wasn’t about to stop now. “I’ve seen everything I’m going to see here. I’m going to go take a look at the other two crime scenes. I’m doubtful that I’ll be able to find any magical traces this long after the fact, but at this point, anything would be helpful.”

     Marcone left me with his profiles and directions to both murder scenes and dropped me back at Molly’s front door. I knew I'd find an empty house before I walked in,  but I still checked every room anyway.  She wasn't home but she had been recently.  The shower was still damp in our bedroom,  and there was a wet towel on top of the dirty clothes hamper. There was a new note sitting on the bed as well which just read ‘Miss you!’ and was signed with a kiss. I pressed my lips to the page, then felt extremely foolish and stuffed it in the bedside drawer with the first note. No indication of where she'd been, what she was doing or when she’d be back.

    “Wake up, Bonnie. We’ve got work to do,” I called, coming around the landing on the stairs. I threw the profiles down on the table. “I need you to research these people. Tell me what they have in common. Any known associates that aren’t included on this list. Any hobbies, habits or business endeavors they might have that are unsavory. Why someone might target them for murder.”

    “Good afternoon, Harry. Always a pleasure to see you too. I slept well, thank you for asking.” Her normally-bright voice was groggy and she yawned theatrically.

    “We don’t have time for sarcasm. I need you to tell me everything you know about what’s going on here as quickly as you can.” I filled her in on what little I’d determined so far as she reviewed the documents.

     “Have you mentioned this to Molly yet?” Bonnie asked, scanning quickly over the last file then starting back at the beginning.

    “I haven’t seen Molly since Sunday morning. She got a call and said she’d be back in a few days.”

     “Oh.” She sounded flustered. “Well, that’s. Oh.”

     “It’s work, not anything between us,” I assured her.

    “No, I understand. I just…well, I’m sure it’s just a coincidence, right?” Her voice was small and hopeful.

     “Yeah. Yeah, me too.” I ground my teeth, set my jaw.

     “Well, okay. Have you said anything to the Queen of Dark and Spooky yet?”

     “No.  Are you insane? Here’s how our relationship works: I try my best to pretend we don’t have one until she inevitably calls on me for something, and then I dance for her and try my best to do it in a way that makes me feel the least like her puppet. If she’s not calling, I’m not eager to do anything to remind her that I exist, especially right now.” I buried my face in my hands and groaned. “I have nothing to go on here other than the laundry list of people, myself included, who wouldn’t want to see Marcone profit.”

     “Well, we know it wasn’t you. That narrows it down. And you're right, there had to be a practitioner involved with considerable skills. Someone the victims trusted enough to let them get close,”

      “Or someone wearing the face of someone they trusted,” I suggested.

     “Possible, but unlikely. Fae are adept at seeing through veils and glamours. You’d need to actually shapeshift to be convincing for any real length of time.”

     “Good point.” I sighed. “I need more to go on. I’m going to investigate the first two crime scenes. While I’m gone, can you look into this? I give you permission to leave the house to do research if you need to.”

      “Excellent! I’ll see what I can do.” She paused for a moment before adding. “Try not to worry too much. Molly will be home soon enough.”

     “Thanks, kid.” I gave her the most convincing smile I could muster, which still didn't feel like much.

    Ralolei’s house was comfortable, minus the bloodstains. Someone had removed the body, but nothing else had been touched yet from what I could tell. It was a plain house for an elf, from what little experience I’d had with them. If they were all like this one had seemed to be, maybe I'd have been more inclined to increase my experience. The floor was covered by a soft, cream carpet, except in the bathroom and kitchen areas, where hardwood was exposed. He had bookshelves lining one wall, filled with a variety of texts and tomes in a multitude of languages. Many seemed to be medical texts or writings on magical herbs and remedies. Not surprising, he’d been known for his healing skills according to Marcone’s notes.

      An empty wine bottle sat on the table, next to two mostly empty glasses. I was disappointed but not surprised to find that both glasses had been wiped clean of any fingerprints or saliva residue. I was struck with the sudden conviction that while the killer was not a professional, this wasn’t their first time killing either. No magical residue, no traces of evidence. The killer had been careful and had left nothing behind.

     But then why not make the deaths look more natural? Surely if you didn’t want to be caught, there were easier ways. And this had not been a job for the faint of heart. The killer had been in bed with Ralolei when she killed him, judging by the splatter pattern of the blood, the way it pooled. It didn’t look like he’d been sleeping either. There was a trail of clothing leading from the table to the bed, all his. If the killer had shed any clothes, she was careful to pick them up before she left.

       I searched the house top to bottom, desperate for anything that might give me a hint. I found several dozen varieties of medical implements, many of which looked like medieval torture devices, and a few vials of illicit substances that had medicinal applications when used properly. Another drawer held a stack of receipts for services rendered, contracts for a few people who’d kept him on retainer. A bedside drawer turned up a whole host of *ahem* marital aids, some of which looked like you’d need medical treatment after you used them. I closed it quickly and moved on.

     The most interesting item I found was a shoebox hidden under the bed. Here we go I thought This is what he was killed for. But alas, it just contained a bunch of drawings and photos of people. It was a box of mementos, like a regular vanilla human might keep. A snapshot of him and a young woman standing on a pier at sunset, drinks in hand. A drawing of him and another elf, arms around each other’s shoulders, grinning. A ticket stub from a flight to Los Angeles. A Polaroid of-

     I froze, staring at the photo. It was fading, the colors washed out and darkening like older Polaroids do. Judging by the clothes Ralolei and his female companion were wearing I thought it had to be taken sometime in the late 60s or early 70s. It couldn’t be much later than that because I recognized the woman he was with and I knew when she had died: October 31^st, 1974. The day I was born. I traced her face with shaking fingers. Margaret Dresden, more commonly known as Margaret LeFay. My mother. 

     “Her Majesty was surprised to see you in this realm.” A voice,  just behind and to my right said.  I jumped,  and quickly slipped the photo into my duster pocket before turning around.

    “Grimalkin.” I addressed him, inclining my head slightly. “How long have you been following me?”

    He smiled. “You visit so rarely. The Queen worries.”

    “She knows where to find me if she needs me.” I retorted.

   “Oh, indeed she does.” The malk’s voice sounded entirely too pleased with himself and for a moment I was afraid that they'd found out about Molly and I. “And apparently that is in the home of one of her recently deceased subjects, rifling through his possessions.”

     I mentally breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes,  that's my job. I'm a private investigator. I investigate crimes.”

    “Not in this realm. Here your job is to serve and obey.”

    “I haven’t received any orders or requests. Unless you’re about to change that?” I stared him down, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

   His tailed swished once. Twice. Then he looked away with a noise of disgust. “No, she sends no orders. She bid me tell you that the matter is being handled in accordance with Winter Law and that you need not involve yourself in his death any farther.”

     “Ah, so you’ve caught the murderer?”

     “The situation has been handled.” He replied with a nod.

     “That wasn’t really an answer to my question.”

     “It was an answer, just not the one you wanted.” He flashed me a predatory grin, his lips peeling back from razor-sharp teeth.

   “Fine. Keep your secrets. I’m out of here anyway.” I brushed past him as I walked out, trying to keep my back straight and to keep my instinctual need to run from a predator in check.

     I didn’t need to worry about it since he just appeared in front of me when I’d passed, blocking my exit. “The Lady gave me a message as well.”

     “Oh? You mean, Molly?” the giant malk rolled his eyes.

    “Who else?”

     I waited a moment, and when he said nothing, I prompted “So what was the message?”

     “Oh,” He feigned surprise “She only bade me carry the message. She didn’t specify that I needed to deliver it. Shame. Maybe in the future she will learn that I am not her carrier pigeon.”  I tried to kick him but he disappeared leaving nothing behind but ghostly laughter.

     It was pouring rain and late in the evening by the time I got back to Chicago. It hadn’t taken that long to navigate the Ways back,  but time worked weird in the Nevernever. I debated my options for a moment,  then headed towards the alley the sylph had been found in. Mab had specified not to investigate Ralolei’s death,  she hadn’t mentioned anyone else.  Of course, there was less to investigate here. Even in a city as large as Chicago, a dead body pinned to a fence with a railroad spike eventually attracted the attention of CPD. When they showed up and saw dismembered wings and blue skin, it would inevitably have been routed to the boys in S.I. They’d already been through, taken the body and cordoned off the area with police tape.

    I gingerly stepped over it and approached the spot where her body had been found. It smelled like burning electrical products and blood, a metallic miasma hanging in the air. There was a bloody handprint on the ground, but from the angle, I assumed it belonged to the victim. Had I gotten here earlier, maybe first thing in the morning, I might have been able to get something useful but at this point, all of the evidence had already been hauled away and the magical residue had all but faded, washed away by the rain. I was able to tell that a lot of magic had been flung around in the narrow alleyway, as if the chunks of missing wall and asphalt hadn’t been enough of a clue, but I couldn’t pick up more than that.

    There was a sharp bang from out on the street and I ducked on instinct, covering myself with my duster. After a moment’s huddled panic I realized it had just been a car engine backfiring. Still, I reasoned, better safe than sorry. I straightened up, steadying myself on the fence and came face to face with the best evidence I’d found so far. Wrapped around the chain link, about shoulder-height on me, were a few strands of dark hair. I never would have noticed if I hadn't been right next to it, but there they were.  Too fine to belong to the sylph, and, I noted with some relief, too dark to be Molly’s. I untwined and pocketed the hairs, then headed back home.

       I don’t know why I even bothered checking the house. I knew she wasn’t home. There were no new notes, which wasn’t a surprise either. After my sweep, I went straight to the lab and made several attempts at a tracking spell with the hairs I’d found. Unfortunately, each attempt was unsuccessful, the hair spinning in a few lazy circles before just pointing back at me. It wasn’t unusual, of course. The owner could be in the Nevernever, or deceased. She could have anticipated something like this and shaved her head or made some other drastic change that prevented tracking from working. I threw my chalk across the room in frustration and reread the folders that Marcone had given me until I’d memorized them, trying to find anything to work with.

     Somewhere around midnight, I decided to go to bed and hope that looking at it with a fresh eye would make a difference. Only, I found once I was in bed that sleep eluded me. I stared at the ceiling, mind racing, feeling like the silence and emptiness in the house was a tangible force that threatened to consume me. What message had Molly sent? I didn’t think Grimalkin would do anything to harm the Winter Lady. They didn’t have another vessel readily available and it would cause too much turmoil. But that didn't mean it wouldn't harm Molly.

    Was she involved in all this? Mab had all but said that Ralolei’s death had been Court politics. I didn't think the Ladies typically were executioners (that's what us Knights were for) but it didn't seem likely to be a coincidence that Mab had needed her right when the murders started. I didn't believe in coincidences anymore,  especially not in my life and especially not the week of Halloween. It was shortly after 1:30 when I decided sleep was not coming any time soon. I slid out of bed, dragging on a pair of sweatpants and went downstairs to see about feeding myself either a late dinner or an early breakfast. I opened the fridge to find it almost as empty as the rest of the house and made a note to go grocery shopping. Then, deciding what I really needed was another brain to go through the details with,  I picked up the phone.

     She answered on the second ring, her voice all business. “Is something wrong?”

     “Hey, Murph. Can't a guy just call to say hello?”

     “Harry,” The relief was evident in her tone. “Usually if a guy’s calling at this time of the night, someone’s dead or it’s a booty call. Since you're calling from Molly’s house, I hope to god it’s not the latter.”

     “You caught me. Someone is dead. Several someones. I was hoping you’d be willing to come over and go through the case with me. Hopefully, you’ll see something I’m not.”

     “…yeah. Sure.” I wasn’t sure what to make of the way she hesitated before responding. “Give me a few and I'll be right over.”

     I heard Murphy’s bike pull up about thirty minutes later and went to meet her. I’d have to talk to Molly about getting ward tokens set up for her and Thomas now that I was living here so they could get in if needed. Karrin stood on the porch, one hand poised to knock, the other cradling two boxes of pizza with a 6 pack of beer sitting on top as I opened the door.

   “You are a gift to the world, Murphy,” I told her, my mouth watering at the mere thought of pizza. She gave me a strange look as she passed, heading into the living room.

    “Oh, Molly redecorated. It looks nice.” She remarked, taking off her jacket and throwing it across the back of the couch. She was wearing her usual pajama clothes – a pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt, and I was glad I’d decided to light a fire in the hearth. “Is she down in the lab or…?”

    “Oh, no. Molly’s been out of town for a few days. Winter stuff. So, it’ll just be you and me tonight.”

    “Oh. Okay.” She was quiet for a moment and kept looking at me with that same strange look. “So, you said you have a case you need help with?” I gave her the profiles and the case details as we sat, tearing through the pizzas and working on the beers slowly.

      “So, final summation, I’m grasping at straws here.”

     “Hmm.  Yeah,  this is a tough one.” She ran through the folders again. “You said you think these are to stop Marcone from gaining power?”

    I shrugged. “He thinks so.  And the timing doesn't look good. Why?”

    “Well, it's just a thought,  but these don't look like what I'd expect. These people were all killed violently. If I had to guess, I'd assume the motivation was revenge.  I mean,  you have to want someone dead to shove an iron spike through their heart. Jesus,  she would have had to look the elf in the eyes while she slit his throat. That takes strength and a hell of a lot of motivation.”

    “Yeah,  you're right.” I choked on the phantom stench of ancient blood and death,  wrung my hands together to try to erase the feel of Susan’s life pouring out hot and thick over them.

     “Or she's doing it to make an example out of them. Possibly both.” She added, bringing me back to reality.

    “No two kills the same but each gruesome. Careful not to leave evidence but makes sure to leave the bodies where they'll be found. Yeah,  that makes sense. You think our killer’s female?”

     “I’ve got a feeling she is, yeah. That first death, slitting his throat in bed, I’m betting she honey potted him. And you said you found a long hair where the sylph was killed. Could be the elf was gay and our killer is a long-haired man. But these feel personal, vindictive, traits more common to female kills than men. Don’t you think?”

     “I do, but I wanted to hear your thoughts, make sure I wasn’t jumping to conclusions. I just wish I had a list of suspects. I've been looking at their known associates and there's nothing here. They share very few in common and those that they do share aren’t capable of committing the crime. But the killer has to be someone the victims trusted.” We were both quiet for a long moment,  thinking over the details,  trying to come up with a suspect.

     “Why are you even working with Marcone anyway? Is this more Winter business?” Murphy eventually asked.

     “I owe him a favor.” I almost gagged on the words. “Plus,  people dying in strange ways? It almost feels like old times.”

     She smiled sadly. “Almost.” Another pause,  this one tense and uncomfortable. Her breath came shakily as she breathed deep. “Do I get to meet the girlfriend tonight?” We hadn’t mentioned anything about it since I’d seen her after the first night Molly and I were together, but she’d noticed that the marks hadn’t stopped appearing and she could put two and two together.

     “No, she's not around tonight.”

     “…Is she the one that gave you all those bruises?” She asked, becoming suddenly interested in her own hands. I looked down. Ah. I hadn’t bothered putting a shirt on (after all, Karrin had seen me wearing much less before) and I still had a smattering of fading handprints, claw marks and other bruises from the last time Molly and I were together.

    “Yeah. She’s uh, she’s pretty strong.” I rubbed one hand along the back of my neck self-consciously.

    “I’m pretty strong. I never left bruises on you.” Suddenly she was too close, even though she hadn’t moved. The air was filled with the scent of her, familiar and comfortable and painful. Dandelions and sunshine. “I always thought you’ve had enough pain for one life.” Her eyes were lingering on my chest, and she reached out to place her hand over a handprint. It looked miniature compared to the imprint Molly left. The touch of her against my skin was like fire, and I bit my cheek so hard I could taste blood to ride the wave of lust it inspired in me.

    “Murph.” Her name was thick in my throat and she looked up at me, her eyes meeting my own without fear.  Her hand slid up my chest slowly and I fought hard to maintain control over the mantle and my own actions.

    “Harry.”  She leaned closer, and before I could stop it she'd kissed me. Her lips were soft and small, pressed against my own.  Everything in me screamed in exaltation.  Yes! This! But I didn't kiss her back.  With every ounce of will in my body, I pulled back,  taking her wrists firmly in mine and guiding her away.

    “I can't,  Karrin,” I said as gently as I could. “I'm sorry.”

    “No, I'm sorry. I knew but…” She laughed bitterly to herself. “I just thought,  empty house,  you're half-naked. That maybe you…I mean, who wanders around a friend's house in the middle of the night in just low-rise sweats?” I knew she was trying to tease me,  to recover the situation and put it back on familiar ground but if I stopped myself now, I’d never say it.

    “I live here,” I told her quietly.  “I moved in three weeks ago. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.”

    “You’ve practically lived here since July anyway, “ She snorted dismissively. “Why worry about telling me you moved in with Molly?” She asked, a laugh in her voice.  I said nothing, and her smile slowly faded,  eyes widening slightly. “Because you moved in with Molly. Three weeks ago.”

     “Karrin,  I'm sorry. I-“

    “You are unbelievable, do you know that?” She screwed up her face and put on a  deep voice “‘Karrin, you're crazy, she's a kid’, ‘Karrin, she's my apprentice’, ‘Karrin, she's just a friend’. You fucking pig!” She came to her feet,  grabbing her coat.

     “Murph, please sit down.” I should have been getting angry but instead, I just felt calm and cool. I understood her pain, I knew where her anger was coming from. “Just, give me a chance to explain. You can even leave some bruises of your own if it makes you feel any better. But please don't go like this.”

     “You don’t need to explain anything to me, Dresden. I'm familiar with the concept of men wanting a hot piece of barely-legal ass. You're not the first guy to want to sleep with someone young enough to be your daughter. Hell, you’re not even the first one I've been dumb enough to fall for.”

     “Karrin. It's not like that.” I rubbed my face in my hands in frustration. My words were muffled between my fingers. “I hate Halloween. Nothing good ever happens in October.”

    “Fine. Tell me what it’s like.” She still didn't sit but stood standing with her hands on her hips, watching me. 

     “I always thought you were the one,  Karrin. My end game, my forever and always. I only had eyes for you. The first time we kissed.  The first time you told me you loved me.  That first night we were at your house together. I remember them like they were my first ever, maybe clearer, better. I loved you with everything in me.” I heard my voice as if from a distance. I knew the words should hurt, but I couldn't feel them, immersed in my well of calm. “But I was wrong.  At the end of the day, we weren't right for each other and we both know it.  Even if it hurts. Even if it breaks my heart over and over each time I think about you.”

     “Why?” She slumped down in the chair across from me,  blinking away tears. “Why lie? Why not just tell me you wanted to be with her instead?”

    “Because I didn't. Karrin, I swear by my power that I never cheated on you. I didn't realize I had feelings for Molly until months after we broke up, and even once I did, it still took me a while to get past our respective ages. In fact, I'm still not past it. I mean, she doesn't even remember the Challenger explosion, or the day Cobain died.” Despite herself,  Murphy smiled just a bit. “I'm sorry. I should have told you right away. I should have told you before anything happened. But it all happened pretty suddenly, and I was afraid, so I put it off. I don't like hurting people, especially you.”

     “You're actually together with her, aren't you?” She asked. “At first I just thought this was a rebound. She reached out to you when you were needy and vulnerable and…but that’s not what it was at all, was it?”

    “No, it wasn't. If anything, I came on to her. Wait,  bad phrasing. I reached out to her.-“

    “I’ll bet you did.”

     “-And asked to start something. I wasn’t sure at first what we were doing but...”

    “Yeah, I figured.” Her sad smile shone through the tears. “You don’t ever do anything half-way.”

   “I’m sorry. Murph  I really-“

   “I’m such an idiot. You never would have realized if I hadn’t said something, would you? You never would have even looked at her?” She was shaking her head in disbelief, but her smile remained.

     “I mean, if we were still together I wouldn’t have given it any thought but once we were split…No, you’re right, I wouldn’t have ever even thought about it if you hadn’t put the idea in my head.”

    Murphy laughed lightly. “Story of my life.”

    “I'm sorry, Karrin.” The words were insufficient, but they were all I had. Sorry it didn’t work out. Sorry that I’ve moved on. Sorry that I’m with the one person who would hurt you most. Sorry for everything.

     “Are you happy?”

    I sighed. “It’s complicated. She’s complicated. We've got so much going against us and I haven't seen her in almost 3 days now and I'm going out of my mind, worried about where she is, what she’s doing, if she’s involved in all this. It’s such a bad idea. I mean, there are so many different ways for this to go to hell and between our power and our mantles, we might end up taking half of Chicago with us when we go. She – there is nothing funny about this!”

    Murphy had started laughing – giggling – hysterically as I spoke. “Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just, how the tables have turned.” The confusion must have been written clearly across my face because she giggled again. “You don’t see it? Of course you don’t. Do you know how many times I’ve worried about whether or not you would come home? Do you know how many bodies I’ve seen and thought ‘is Harry involved in this, somehow?’ How many times I’ve wondered how big that handbasket to hell is going to be, to hold all of us that are going down with you if you go?” She smiled fondly. “She’ll be fine, and she’ll come back in one piece. She’ll keep fighting. She learned from the best, after all.”

     “That’s what scares me the most,” I muttered, half to myself. “But to answer your question, yeah, despite all of that, I am happy. Molly’s...I never would have expected it to feel so comfortable,  so natural between us. The big things are complicated, but the little things are so easy. When I’m with her I feel like a normal human for the first time in,” years I thought. “a long while.”

     “Good. You deserve that, Harry.” If Murphy’s voice trembled slightly when she said it, I pretended not to notice. “Just know that –“ A faint, tinny rendition of Fur Elise came to life from her jacket pocket, startling both of us. She shot a warning glance at me, and I leaned back,  trying to think non-magical thoughts. “Murphy…okay…mm…alright. Thanks, I'll be there shortly.”

     “Booty call?” I asked hopefully when she hung up.

     “Yeah,  from Rawlins. You might want to put a shirt on for this.”

Chapter Text

    We pulled up in front of an abandoned church, one of the older ones that looked more like a castle than an actual place of worship. Part of the roof had caved in towards the back of the building and it looked like the rest wasn’t too far away from following. There was a single cop car with a lone occupant. As we got out of the car, he pulled out a notebook and started peering intently at it, pointedly ignoring us.

    When we climbed around the police tape barring the door,  a familiar voice called, “Gosh,  I'm so busy admiring the graffiti up here, I'd hardly even notice if a couple of civilians happened to wander into my crime scene.” Rawlins was standing in the front of the church proper, facing the wall behind the altar. “If they did, I’d tell them to avoid that section to the right where the pews are smashed, because they wouldn't want to see the dead body there. And to be careful of the glass.”

     “CPD’s finest at work,” Murphy said dryly with a smile. We picked our way over to the aforementioned corpse. The floor was littered with the general detritus that collected in abandoned buildings, but with the added fun of large splinters of what used to be pews and shards of glass from one of the stained glass windows. The victim was big, taller than me by at least half a foot and with limbs like tree branches. He also had chunks and spikes of stained glass embedded throughout his body, many poking through to the other side. “Too small to be an ogre,” Murphy remarked, frowning. “A changeling?”

     “Yeah. Doesn’t look like he chose to embrace his heritage though.”

     “How can you tell?” She carefully moved around, examining him from every angle.

    “If he had, he’d still be alive. Glass wouldn’t have been enough to pierce his skin.”

    My skin prickled from the magic here. If the still-congealing blood wasn’t enough of a tip-off that this was recent, the amount of lingering magic would have done it. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, my skin crawling with goosebumps that had nothing to do with how creepy the empty, rotting church was (which, by the way, was ‘very’.) This was dark magic, born of rage and hatred. Whoever had been wielding it had allowed it to explode out of them, unchanneled, unrefined, but tremendously powerful. 

     “Any witnesses?” I asked, doubtful.

    “Strangest thing about this case?” Rawlins remarked, still staring at the graffiti. “Got a girl says she heard a noise,  came out of the back room, saw the victim taking swings at thin air. She figured he was high. Then he just stood still and started screaming, staring at the window. She decided to leave him alone and went back to not shooting heroin in the back room. A few seconds later she heard the crash of the glass and found him like this.”

     Murphy and I exchanged a look. “Did she see anyone with him? Or anyone nearby?”

    “He was completely alone. Must have just been some freak thing that caused the window to implode with enough force and precision to sever all major arteries.” Rawlins drawled. “Kids playing football, ball goes through the window at the wrong time, bam, dead guy according to the official report I’m about to file.”

    “Football? At three in the morning?” I asked.

    “You’d be surprised by all the unexpected things happening at 3 in the morning according to official SI reports,” Murphy said with a sad smile. “Any idea what happened?”

     “Hard to say exactly. But there's a lot of magical residue here. Someone was throwing around a lot of power. Dark stuff, fueled by anger.” I looked around.  “And they weren't trying to be subtle about it either.”

  Murphy stalked through the rubble, scanning every angle.  “Why shatter the window? The killer had to know that it would make a ton of noise and the cops would be called. Couldn't they have just magicked up a heart attack or something?”

     “They could, but that would violate the First Law. The council would behead them before they could even confess.” I peered into the darkness on the other side of the shattered window. It looked like there was a little courtyard out there with an overrun garden. 

     “But they killed someone with magic anyway. What difference would it make?”

     “Technically, they killed someone with glass. The magic may have directed it, but it wasn't magic that killed him.” I said quietly.

     “So, the Council would have killed Molly for doing something she didn't know was wrong for the right reasons, but they have no problem with someone using their power to shred this guy?” Karrin’s tone was hard, and I couldn't disagree.

    “A lot of people would have a problem with it, but by our Laws, we couldn't do anything. We'd watch her closely, wait for her to screw up but there's nothing in the Council’s laws that prevents you from killing someone if you do it intelligently.”

     “How do you know it was a woman?” She asked after a moment’s consideration. 

    “I don't.” I admitted “But this has the same feel as the rest of our list, doesn't it? It might be a coincidence but…” I shrugged.

    “I was thinking the same thing.” She agreed. “It’s our killer’s m.o. She made a scene, killed him violently and with an unnecessary amount of pain and bloodshed, left him where he'd be easily found.”

     I nodded. “There's only one problem. This guy isn't on my list. What does he have to do with…my client?” I wasn’t eager to say ‘Marcone’ in front of a cop, even if that cop was Rawlins.

    “Maybe something. Maybe nothing. Maybe none of this is about your client at all and he's just got a guilty conscience.” She picked her way over the empty window frame and moved cautiously into the courtyard. I followed after, illuminating our way with the soft glow from my pentacle. The rain had already started to wash away some of the magical residue out here but it was still strong – impressively strong. Maybe stronger than what I could have mustered when push came to shove. Definitely stronger than Molly could have managed on her own. Could she have done it with Winter’s help? Probably. But it just didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like her.

   We spent another ten minutes digging up anything we could. There were three different noticeable sets of footprints in the muddy courtyard, but no way of knowing which, if any, belonged to the killer. The victim’s ID named him Oran Barclay but we didn’t have much else to go on. He had no record anywhere. The home address listed on his license was an abandoned lot. He had no family or friends that we could find, no known associates.

     Murphy dropped me off back at the house with assurances that she would do all the research she could and let me know if anything came up that matched the profile. I called the number Marcone had given me and left a voicemail, then decided I should try to catch some sleep.

     Of course, that was easier decided than done. I wound up stretching out on the couch, which I told myself was so that I was closer to the phone and had nothing to do with sheets that smelled of frost and elderberry and a bed that was too big for one lonely wizard. I closed my eyes shortly after the grandfather clock ticked over to 5 A.M. and opened them again when the phone rang. It had felt like only a few minutes, but the clock assured me it was just after 8. I shuffled toward the phone and grunted by way of greeting.

   “Have you identified the person in question?” Marcone’s crisp tone filtered through the handset.

   “Slept fine. Thanks for asking.” I mumbled, followed by a yawn. “Not yet. I’m still working on it. What can you tell me about Oran Barclay?”

   “Should I know who that is?” He didn’t sound like he was feigning ignorance but it was hard to tell with him.

   “You tell me. He had a terminal collision with a stained glass window in an abandoned church last night.”

   “I fail to see why you think I would be involved.” He drawled. “My men aren’t above defenestration, but I’d never condone desecration of holy ground.”

    What a fascinating line to draw. “I wasn’t fingering you for the killer, but way to jump to conclusions. Guilty conscience much?” He scoffed. “He wasn’t pushed through a window, he had the window pushed through him. Definitely done by someone from my side of the tracks, and around this time of year, I stop believing in coincidence. If these murders have something to do with you, I want to know how this guy fits in.”

    Marcone made a thoughtful noise. “I don’t recognize the name, but I’ll see what I can find out.” He hung up on me. I glared at the receiver before hanging it up and making coffee. I had enough time to choke down the last of the cereal and grab my second cup before the phone rang again.  I picked it up, waited until I heard Marcone’s voice, and hung it right back up. I took a few more sips of coffee and waited. It was a full five minutes before the phone rang once more.

    “Are you ever going to stop being such a child?” Irritation dripped from every word. I took another long sip and smiled to myself. It’s the little things in life.

    “Nah. It’s suited me just fine so far. Too old to change now.”

    “…one day I’m going to get you in a pair of thorn manacles and slug you square in the jaw until you’re missing teeth.” He growled. I leaned back a bit, surprised.  It's not that I thought we were friends or that he'd never hurt me. I’d love to beat him to a bloody pulp and I'm sure the feeling was mutual.  But he usually kept himself calm,  cool and collected and his threats were at least thinly veiled. That simple threat let me know more than anything exactly how on edge Marcone was about this whole business.

    Of course, he'd kill me if he realized I'd figured that out.  “Enough with the dirty talk, big boy. I'm spoken for. Tell me what you found out about Oran.”

     “Not much, I'm afraid. We tried to recruit him a few times but he didn't want to get involved with the outfit. Not the brightest gentleman around, but plenty of muscle and perceptive. He used to be something of an informant but he got out of the business about fifteen years ago. He’s been lying low ever since.”

    “Lying very low now,” I remarked, trying to piece it all together and coming up empty. “So what was he doing in an abandoned church at 3:00 in the morning?”

    “I believe that is your job to figure out, Mister Dresden.” He replied, despite the fact that we both knew it had been rhetorical. “And while you’re at it, you may want to figure out who the young blonde woman that followed him into the church is.”

    I frowned. “There was only one witness and she said she didn’t see anyone but the victim at the scene.”

    “There was only one witness foolhardy enough to stick around when the police arrived,” Marcone replied blithely. “There were others less eager to spend the evening in a cell. Or to get caught in the crossfire. I have it from a fairly reliable source that our victim came in alone but was joined shortly thereafter by a young woman. She appeared ‘as if out of thin air’” I could hear the quotes through his derision. “Tall. Pale blonde, almost white hair. Strange, almost alien in appearance. Still a ‘hot piece of ass, though’, I’m assured. Tattoos. Piercing blue eyes. Sound like anyone you might know?”

     “It’s not her.” My mind was racing, and I was doing my best to keep my breathing and heart rate from joining it. “It can't be.”

    “What was that you said yesterday, about trust?” His tone was cool but not harsh. 

    “No,  I mean she can't be the killer. Oran was a changeling, but he hadn’t Chosen yet. The Queens can’t kill outside of their Court. That’s why they have Fix and me.”

     “That restriction would not have applied to any of the prior victims.” Marcone helpfully pointed out. 

     “Yes,  thank you. I'd already figured that much out myself.” I ran one weary hand over my face. “How reliable is your source?”

    “I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I wasn’t reasonably certain it was true.”

    “But you’re not 100% sure?” I tried to keep the desperate hope from touching my words.

   He hesitated. “One can never be sure. Even if I’d observed her myself, there’s no guarantee that it wasn’t an illusion of some kind. There are no shortage of factions that would love to foment tension between the Baron of Chicago and the Unseelie Court.”

    I waited, but when he wasn’t forthcoming I prompted “Buuut…”

    “But you don’t know where your girlfriend is, or where she’s been, do you?” There were a dozen ways he could have said it that would have pissed me off, but I wasn’t prepared for the gentle, solicitous tone of inquiry he used. It cut me to my core, heading straight for my deepest fears. “I think Ms. Carpenter was there last night. I think she is involved in this business and I think you think the same thing.”

    “Shut the fuck up, John.” My words were barely more than a whisper.

    “Harry,” He hesitated again “Perhaps you were right. If the Lady is involved, it’s unlikely that she’s acting alone. At this point, it would be advisable for you to withdraw. I have my own resources and –“

    “No.” I stopped him short, my tone brooking no argument. “People are dead. Some of them here in my city. I don’t care who is involved, I will stop this. No one else is dying on my watch.”

    The Baron was silent for a long moment but when he spoke I could hear the crocodile grin spread across his face. “And what, Mister Dresden, do you plan to do to stop it?”

     To say that Athal was a first-class rotten son of a bitch is an insult to rotten sons of bitches everywhere. He had a face that you just wanted to punch, stuck in a perpetual haughty sneer. The urge only became stronger when his mouth opened, pouring out a never-ending stream of fae-supremacist bullshit, half-baked philosophy and what he thought passed for humor. It didn’t help that he had a whining pitch to his pompous voice or that I’d been sitting in a small room with him for the better part of a day and had only slept a handful of hours in the past week.

    “I don't understand,” He complained for the twelfth time in as many hours, “What you mortals are so worked up about.”

    “Well gee Athal, do you think it maybe has something to do with all the dead bodies?”

    He sniffed indignantly. “My defenses are more than adequate.”

    “You’re probably right,” I agreed around a yawn. “Now that I've added actual defenses, they're probably more than adequate. But I've got this funny thing where I believe it’s better to be cautious and alive than arrogant and dead.”

    “I’d rather be dead than confined to this room, being babysat by you primitives at the behest of the so-called Baron.”

    I pinched the bridge of my nose, suppressing the urge to fulfill his wishes. “He's not the ‘so-called’ Baron. He is the Baron. I know. I was there when he signed the Accords. And primitives? Really?”

    “Primitives.  Savages.  Lower life forms.  Vermin.  What do you call creatures with fleeting lifespans that scurry under your boots, always doing one irritating thing after another?”

    I imagined choking the life from him. I imagined it so hard that I found myself actually standing with him pinned against the wall by the throat. “Lower life form?” I snarled. “Buddy,  I'm a Warden of the White Council and the goddamn Winter Knight. I've survived things you haven't even seen in your worst nightmares. I laid low an empire with one stroke of my hand. I've led the Wild Hunt and killed two, count ‘em, two fairy Queens. You really think one pissant boot-licker like you would be an obstacle?”

   He cringed away from my words but said nothing. I tightened my grip until he squealed. I would have gone until he pissed himself but at that moment the phone rang,  jarring me to my senses. “Yes?” I snapped into the receiver.

     “Doug just tripped the silent alarm. There is someone attempting to infiltrate his defenses.” Marcone said through the static on the other end.

    “I'm on my way.” I hung up and snatched my staff from the corner where I'd been sitting. On my way out the door, I glanced at Athal,  huddled with his knees against his chest. “Do not open this door for anyone, understood? If any ‘mortal ape’ comes to save your ass they'll have the keys to get through both the wards and the security doors.” He nodded sullenly, rubbing at his throat where a bruise was already starting to form. And didn't I just feel terrible about that?

    Doug’s wards had been picked to pieces, dissected to allow a narrow passageway to the panic room he was living in. That wasn’t a good sign. I started pounding on the door, calling for him to let me in. I had a key (and enough brute force to throw the thing off its hinges if need be) but it was always a good idea to give fae creatures advance warning before entering. When Doug didn’t answer I assumed the worst and pushed in.

    Did I say I assumed the worst? Yeah, that was a lie. I assumed he was already dead. The worst is what I found. The distinct scent of burnt hair, meat and metal greeted me as soon as I opened the door, which made sense because holy shit Doug had been turned into a kelpie-shaped torch. His head was thrown back and gouts of white flame spurted up from his throat. I quickly moved in to disperse them. Quenching fires wasn’t my strong suit but I managed.

     “Hells fucking bells, what did she do to you?” I muttered, inspecting him. Broken nose, jaw, cheekbone. Most of his teeth were missing. It looked like she’d dumped iron shavings down his throat since there was still a fine powder on the floor and he had a speckled burn pattern across his face. “Hang on, you're going to be alright, just hang on, okay?” Doug’s arm was wrapped tightly around his abdomen, which turned out to be hiding a nasty gash where his insides were all clamoring to become outsides. I held back my bile just barely, deciding it would not help the healing process. I really wished I'd gone and studied more with Listens to Wind because my healing knowledge was almost non-existent. Still, I tried. “Doug? Dougal, can you hear me?  I need you to stay with me.”

      Doug rolled his head slowly left and right. He tried to respond but only managed a gurgling wheeze of air and a twitch of his blackened lips. I knew what he was trying to say anyway, and while I didn't blame him  I was determined not to let him go.  “No, come on, don't give up.” I cajoled.  I made the mistake of trying to, as lightly as I could, pat his face to keep him awake and alert. It sort of worked, in that it caused enough pain to elicit a groan from him. “That’s the spirit. I know fae are tough bastards, just hang in there and I’ll get you patched up, okay?”

      It didn't look good. I'm no doctor but I'm a seasoned patient and maybe the gut wound would have been survivable. Maybe the burns all down his throat would have been survivable. Both combined?  I put his chances just above a snowball in hell. Damnit. The wounds were fresh.  If I'd just stayed with Doug instead of Athal. If I'd headed over a little bit faster. I mean, I couldn't have been more than a minute or two behind the attacker or he'd have turned to ash before I got through the door. While I pressed my hands to his wound, trying to ignore the blood on them and focus on the green energy of life surging through them, unfamiliar and awkward for me, I inspected the room.

     There were no other exits.  The room was warded from opening portals. So where the hell was the attacker? I scanned the room, including the ceiling, but there was nowhere to hide. Perhaps she was veiled?  I really didn't want to, but I started to open my Sight when I felt smooth,  cool hands trembling against my own and looked down. Dougal’s voice was a horrible rasping croak, something straight from your nightmares. “S-s-stop.”

     “What? No.” I drew more power in, channeling more energy toward stopping the blood flow, knitting his flesh.

   “St – stop. P-p-point-less.” Even saying that much seemed like a monumental effort for him.

  He was right, but I didn't want to agree. “Nah, come on. Just give me a chance. You'll be dragging teenagers to their watery deaths again in no time. And then I'll kill you for that.  But we'll heal you up first so it's a fair fight.”

   “Liar.” He croaked. He started coughing and when he subsided, he said, “Want to. Stop.”

   I sighed and sat back on my heels, wiping my hands on my jeans. Yeah, okay. A man should have the right to decide when enough is enough. “Damnit. I'm sorry. If I'd gotten here sooner...I'm sorry.” I passed one hand over my face, not surprised when it came back wet with frustrated tears.  “Who did it? If I can't save you at least let me track her down.”

    Doug looked away for a moment, then met my eyes.  “M-muh-Mmm.” Oh god.  My heart stopped beating,  I held my breath, everything froze. Don’t say Molly. Anything but Molly. “Mar-grt.” Oh, haha.

   “Margaret?” I asked, eyes narrowing. That was Molly’s Name, though I could count on one hand the number of times I’d heard someone use it. Then a terrible thought occurred. What if he meant my Margaret?  Not as a killer of course, but what if he was warning me that Maggie was a target? I almost bolted but I reminded myself that the best way I could protect her and everyone else was to get to the bottom of this. Mouse and the Carpenters were experts.  They'd handle it. Doug’s head lolled forward in an approximation of a nod. “Margaret who? It’s kind of a common name.”

    Not sure what I expected, but I definitely didn't expect him to choke out, “Lef-fay.”

    My heart sped up, confused but intrigued. “Margaret LeFay? You knew my mom?”

    Despite being too bloodless to even pull his head back upright, and obviously in an unreal amount of pain, he managed to glare at me irritably and gasp, “No.” He looked away from me again, staring off into space. He didn't look too good.  His eyes refused to focus,  his skin was almost iridescently white and under the crackling skin and soot his lips were a trembling pale green, like a frog’s underbelly.

   “Oh. Okay.” Why the hell bring up my mother if he didn’t even know her? What possible relevance could she have? Of course, I knew better than anyone the sort of strange things your brain could do when you were dying. He probably was past the point of coherent thought. “Never mind. Tell me about your attacker. Did you see her? Can you-“ It was pointless. Dougal developed a wracking cough and never recovered. I tried to help but he waved me away, trying to choke out words but only succeeding in meaningless sounds. His eyes started bulging as he struggled, without success, to get enough air in his lungs and then suddenly he went still.

      “Dougal?” I called, knowing damn well he wasn’t going to answer. “Come on, Doug?” Desperate, I slapped him a few times, trying to get him to respond, to breathe. When that didn’t work I started shaking him. And when that didn’t work I had a breakdown. “GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!” I hurled the closest object, a desk chair, at the opposite wall where it shattered into thirty or so pieces. I could hear a little voice in the back of my head which sounded suspiciously like Murphy complaining that I was contaminating a crime scene. “Shut the fuck up. What does it matter? I’m the only one investigating and she’s too damn good.” I muttered under my breath to myself, doing a slow spin around the room to try to find something, anything to go on. It was difficult since my stupid eyes kept tearing up, exhausted, frustrated and confused. I raked my hands through my hair. “Fuck. Nothing but dead ends and more fucking questions!” I plunged my left fist up to the elbow in the wall with a primal scream of rage. It would hurt later but at the moment I couldn’t even feel it.

   Throwing a temper tantrum won’t help. I told myself. You’ve got to think. Shut off all of this rage and worry and just think. No one is perfect. There has to be something to go on. I let go of as much anger as I could, but the worry stayed. Because as much as I hated to admit it, I could smell Molly’s scent all over the room. She’d been here, recently. And who better to delicately pick apart wards that I’d built than my nimble-fingered apprentice-turned-lover. I trusted her. I trusted her? I trusted her. Yes. But there was no denying she was involved. Maybe she was trying to save the victims too. Maybe she had no other choice. I could only guess.

     “Damnit Molly,” I exhaled to the empty room. “I don’t know how the hell you’re involved in this mess, and I’m too tired to care. Just be safe, wherever you are and come home to me.” It was a wish. A prayer. A hope. And it made me feel twice as old and tired to give voice to it.

    Shaking my head, I pulled the business card with Marcone’s number out of my pocket and made a call I really didn’t want to make. “Dougal?” Marcone inquired softly from the other end.

   I shook my head again. “It’s too late. He was gone when I got here.”

   “Try to resuscitate him. We may be able to find out more about the attacker.”

    I scowled at the receiver. “Gee, what a great idea. Why didn’t I think of that? Oh wait, I did because I’ve been doing this my entire adult life. I tried but he was too-“

    “Have you found Ms. Carpenter? Heard from her?” He asked.

    “No.”  

    “Are you lying to me,  Dresden?” He practically purred the words, like we were old lovers. “If you're covering for her-“  

     “No.” I cut him off.

     “And you've found no evidence here either to implicate anyone, of course. Especially not your precious Molly.” 

      “I already told you she couldn’t have-“  

      “Killed one person. Who she was witnessed in the company of just before death. Yes. But Dougal was one of her subjects.”

     “Yes, but-“

     Marcone sighed. “You’re a detective Dresden. Which sounds more likely to you – a seasoned private investigator known for solving unsolvable cases can’t find a single scrap of useful evidence across multiple crime scenes and shows up just in time to find a cooling body or a man lies, either to his client or to himself, about what he’s found to protect his eager young lover. Or his boss, depending on how you look at it.” If I opened my mouth I was going to scream at him so I said nothing. “I don’t blame you. I expect the same loyalty from my men. And they aren’t bound to serve me quite as literally as-“

    Alright, that was enough patience. “Listen here you son of a bitch. You asked for my help. You want someone to tell you what you want to hear, send one of your yes-men to babysit. But if you want the truth, then listen to what I'm saying.  Your buddy Doug drank a metric fuckton of iron shavings.  It's all over the room.  It would be against Winter Law for Molly to use iron to kill him.”  

    “That's…” He made a soft frustrated noise. “Fine. Then who would be able to use iron? You said the killer needs to be White Council or equivalent.  Who has that kind of power and is willing to do this kind of work?”

    “I don't know. I don't know!” I shouted, frustrated with myself as much as with him.  “There's nothing useful here or anywhere else.  I'm a wizard, not a psychic.  I can't make evidence appear out of-“   

     “Enough excuses,  Dresden.” Marcone snarled. “Enough dramatics. People have died. My people. If you can’t do your job and keep them alive or find their killer, at least stop wasting my time with-“ I slammed the phone down, as it started to spark and smoke. Fucking Marcone. If it was so easy, why didn’t he do it? Like I wasn’t trying. Like I would cover for Molly if I had evidence of her being the killer. I let the door slam shut behind me on my way out, heading back to check on Athal.    

      I was still in a state of fury when I entered. Athal took one look at me as I came through the door and promptly closed his mouth. He must have had some kind of survival instincts because he kept it closed until he fell asleep. I don’t know how much time passed. I ignored the clock. I ignored everything but my charge. I may have failed everyone else,  but I'd be ready for this one. I kept my blasting rod in one hand, facing the door, and my revolver sat in my lap. I just needed something, anything to go on. I needed a connection between our victims. I needed a motive for our killer.  I needed to talk to Molly.

     I needed to talk to Molly.

     I needed for her to tell me she wasn’t involved.

     I knew, in my gut, she wouldn't be able to.

Chapter Text

     It was a long night.  Or day.  Or days. However you choose to look at time from the Nevernever. My mind spiraled through dark thoughts, filled with images of the dead.  Deaths I'd failed to prevent. Maybe I was losing my touch.  How long had it been since I’d had a real case like this? I didn’t know. I’d always had bad luck when my cases started involving the fae. It had, historically, not ever worked out well for me. And I was usually one step behind the entire way. But hell, I was the entire staircase behind on this one. I reviewed every fact I had related to the case,  going over my memories of each crime scene,  the information I’d gleaned.  Maybe I was looking at it from the wrong light. Maybe it had nothing to do with Marcone. I could ask around Faerie. Maybe there was a connection I missed. Maybe Marcone had incomplete information. Nothing was going to bring back the victims, but at least justice could be served. 

     I don't know when I drifted off. For all I know, I may have just fallen asleep with my eyes open. The point is I woke up mid-snore just as a long slender leg slid through the door.  I stayed where I was,  gathering power,  too mentally and physically drained to be scared, just ready. The rest of the woman, clad in a skirted business suit, appeared and I let go of some of the tension. “Gard.” I acknowledged.

     “Harry.” She replied in a hushed tone, mindful of the still sleeping sidhe on his cot. “The Baron sent me to relieve you.”

     My eyebrows shot up. “Really?  He cares enough about this SOB to forgo his personal Chooser?”

     “No. He just assumed you wouldn't leave your post if he sent Hendricks.” She raked her eyes over me.

     “And he thinks I will, for you?” I snorted.

     Gard’s smile had a bit too much teeth. “One way or another. Yes.”

    “Ah.” I gripped my blasting rod a little tighter. “Well, then I guess we have a problem because I'm not leaving here until I catch the killer.”

    “Baron Marcone has closed the case. Your services are no longer required.”

    “What?  He's solved it?  Who-“

    She shook her head.  “No,  he has closed it. He's concluded that the attacks have stopped,  and there is no longer a need to pursue it.”

     “Right, so now that he knows his ass isn't on the line,  he doesn't need it solved? That's what you’re saying?” I growled.  “Unbelievable.”

     “He has never pretended to be other than what he is.” She spread her hands in what I would have called a helpless gesture on anyone else. “Either way, he considers your debt fulfilled. You are dismissed.”

     I settled down further into the chair. “Great. Then on my own time,  I'm going to sit here and guard this pompous asshat until the killer, who is still out there and unidentified,  comes to claim him. My willingness to keep someone alive isn't dependent on their usefulness to me, and certainly not something I do at Gentleman Johnny’s pleasure.”

     “The sidhe is not in imminent danger, but to be safe I will stay with him tonight. You, Mr. Dresden, will go home and leave this behind you.”

    “You said I'm dismissed from his service.  I'm free to do as I please. You can stay here if you want,  but I'm not moving.”

     She sighed. “Do you know what day it is, Mr.  Dresden?” I tried to judge how long I’d been there,  but she didn't wait for my answer. “Halloween. Think carefully. On this night of all nights, do you desire to watch over one sidhe noble who is unlikely to come to harm, or would you rather be home,  watching over your companions?” On this night of all nights.  I suppose a Chooser of the Slain would know perfectly well what Halloween night meant. With everything that had happened, she was right, I wanted to be home with Molly.  It was the one night a year I could truly lose her forever and I didn't want to let her out of my sight. Gard laid one hand on my shoulder. “Your loved ones wait for you. Go home,  Harry.”

    I fully intended to take her advice. I did. So I was just as surprised as Hendricks when I kicked in John Marcone’s office door. Marcone did not look surprised at all, or even interested for that matter. “Sir Dresden.” He inclined his head and gestured for the seat opposite his desk.  “Gard said you left.  Was there traffic? I expected you a full ten minutes ago.”

    “What did you find out?” I stayed standing.

    “Does it matter? Your debt is fulfilled, Knight. Your case is closed.”

    “People are dead. Justice must be served. The victims deserve that much.”

    Because he is intent on being as close to a real-life supervillain as possible, Marcone looked at me over steepled fingers. “Whose justice, Mr.  Dresden? How many children and tourists will not meet a watery grave this year due to Dougal’s death? How many people will be spared Zevah’s talons?”

     “How many books will go unread, now that Oran isn't around to savage them? How many cups of tea undrunk by Nechtan?” I suggested. “This was important to you. You wouldn't have come to me if it wasn't. What changed?”

     He considered me for a moment,  scrutinizing me with eyes the color of old wrinkled dollar bills. “If you were investigating this independently, and you saw that the last person many of these victims had talked to prior to death was a representative for my empire, what would you assume?”

     “That you took them out. But that obviously wasn’t the case. You-“

    “Obvious to you. But if you were outside. If I refused to answer your questions. If you didn't have my intel?”

    I sat down after all. “I'd think it was you. Not you directly of course.  You'd never dirty your hands.” He made a non-committal noise. “So that's how you're going to play this. You get the reputation boost,  which you need in the Nevernever. They're fae, so if you claim you found they were cheating you or plotting against you, everyone will believe it.  And they'll be more likely to deal honestly with you in the future.”

     “I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.” He replied with a grin.

      “You give dirt-bag mobsters everywhere a bad name,  John.” I shook my head in disgust. “What happens when the killer comes for you?”

     “She won't.” He assured me, with calm certainty.  “But this was never about protecting me. If she comes for me,  I'll be ready.”

     “Where have I heard that before? Oh right, other victims.” He just smiled smugly and said nothing. I sighed. “So that’s it? That’s what I get? We still don’t know who was killing these people, we don’t know why, and you’re done looking because taking the blame works out for you?”

     “I stand to receive greater gains from this than I would have if the deals went off without a hitch.” He replied, leaning towards me slightly with a conspiratorial tone.

    “Ugh. You’re-“ I didn't get to tell Marcone exactly what he was because Hendricks came over to whisper in his ear and his already gleeful grin became simply wicked.  He held up one finger to me and picked up the receiver for his desk phone.

    “Yes?... Why, Lady Molly,  to what do I owe this,” He hesitated for a moment while I sat up straighter “pleasure?... Harry Dresden?... Sarcasm is not a becoming trait for a young Lady such as yourself.” He looked at me, propping his feet up on the desk and leaning back in his chair. “Harry Dresden? No,  Ms.  Carpenter,  I haven't seen him.”

     “Liar!” I yelled “I'm right here Molly! I'll be home soon!”

     “What a thing to suggest.” Marcone continued like I hadn't said anything. “I'm as honest as you are, Lady Molly…Are you asking me to do you a favor?” He asked her, all sugar sweet. “…Extremely.  Good day.” He laughed softly as he hung up. “Oh, Harry. Did you teach her nothing?”

    “What the hell did you just make her agree to?”

    “I didn't make her agree to anything.” He shrugged. “And it was much less than I could have asked for. She sounded desperate to find you. Almost as if she was afraid you might have left.”

    I ground my teeth. “I swear to god if you-“

    “Yes, yes, fire and brimstone. I know.” He cleared his throat. “Harry Dresden, you are to return home as soon as possible. People are waiting for you.”

    “I'm going to kill you someday. You know that.” I told him,  gathering my staff and heading for the door.

    “I know you're going to try.” He smiled at my back. “Happy birthday,  Sir Knight.”

     “Surprise!” Shouted a chorus of voices as I opened the front door to my house. Even knowing it was coming, I still jerked back for a moment, instinctively drawing in my power before I remembered what was happening and relaxed. A collective exhaled breath left the assembled crowd, all of whom evidently had not thought about what a bad idea it would be to startle me until it had already happened.

   “You should all know better!” I said with a laugh. I scanned the group before me.  Waldo and Andi stood front and center, his arm around her. It was astounding how much different he looked, carrying himself with pride and confidence. He was, of course, wearing Jedi robes and had a fake lightsaber strapped to his side. I’m sure his real one was hidden somewhere on his person. Andi was dressed as Wonder Woman and wore it well.  Will and Georgia stood next to them dressed like the wizards in Harry Potter, their little one clinging to Georgia’s leg. She was a pumpkin. Thomas and Murphy were both there, as well as Charity, Michael and half of the Carpenter brood and none appeared in costume.

     In the very back of the group, with a satisfied smile spread across a tired face, was Molly. My eyes met hers and a tension that I hadn’t even realized I was holding relaxed instantly. I had questions, sure. And plenty of concerns. But those would wait. The important part was she was alive and safe.

     “Happy birthday, Harry,” Molly said softly and for a moment it felt like it was just the two of us in the room. I wanted nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and never let go, to keep her safe and close, to shout my love for her until my voice was hoarse. But then the crowd of party guests, including her parents, started echoing the birthday wishes and I was pulled away from her gaze for hugs and slaps on the back and conversation.

     Maggie hurtled around the corner from the living room into the hallway, skidding across the hardwood floor on her grass-stained socks, and slamming into my side. Mouse was hot on her heels and thankfully managed to stop his slide with a little more grace and dignity than my daughter. “Oof. Did we miss the surprise?” Maggie asked, looking up at me. I started laughing so hard I thought I was going to pass out from lack of oxygen. My daughter was wearing a pair of dirty jeans with a tear in one knee, a plain black t-shirt, a floor-length black coat, and a pentacle necklace.

      “She wanted to be a superhero. I helped her get the costume together.” Molly said, coming over and putting one hand on Maggie’s shoulder fondly, discreetly rubbing her other along the small of my back. It was just the three of us in the hall, everyone else having headed back to either the kitchen or living room, but we were still within view,  to my disappointment. 

     “I'm surprised you had time, it seems it’s been a busy week for you,” I said lightly. Molly went still for a moment,  frowning.

    “We put it together over a month ago. ” Maggie interjected. “Look, I've been practicing “ She struck a pose, feet planted,  hand outstretched and yelled “Fuego!” proudly.

    “That's…I…great job, kiddo.” I ruffled her hair while Molly chuckled quietly beside me. I could feel her grin without even looking.

    “It looks better with my staff, but I left it in the backyard because Missus Carpenter says sticks aren't allowed in the house.”

    “That's probably for the best. Besides, you never know when you might be suddenly disarmed in a fight. A good wizard should learn to handle herself without any tools.” I told Maggie, giving her my best wise and sagely voice.

    “Also, don't cast fire spells in the house,” Molly added. “One arsonist is more than enough for this family.”

    I absently scratched Mouse behind the ears and he drooled on me fondly. I looked down and peered closely. “What is on my dog’s face?”

    “He's not your dog, he's mine.” Maggie retorted in a haughty voice. “And those are his whiskers because today he's my loyal cat, Mister.” The poor dog had what looked like thick fishing wire affixed to the sides of his nose. He gave me a long-suffering look before his tongue lolled out in a doggy grin. 

     “I wanted to dye his fur multicolored and give him a little skirt, dress him as me, but Maggie thought he wouldn't care for the process,” Molly added. Mouse snorted as if to say No, he most certainly wouldn't. 

     “I'm glad. That might have been awkward.” I cast a glance in Molly’s direction and saw her blush slightly. Mouse looked back and forth between us suspiciously  then let out a short whuff of happiness and continued his grinning, tail thumping so hard against me that he almost knocked me over. I hugged Maggie to my chest. “Alright, why don’t you go do battle with the forces of evil? I've been out all night and I think I should probably change my clothes and take a shower really quick before I continue to socialize.”

     “You should probably do that in the opposite order,  shower and then change clothes. Otherwise, it defeats the purpose.” My child told me with a perfectly straight face. I glared at her and she shrugged. “Just trying to help.” She looked away, thumbs in her pockets. 

     “You do a wonderful Harry Dresden impression,” Molly told her. 

     “Buddy, I am Harry Dresden.” She replied, trying (without much success, which honestly made it better) to give Molly the glare I had just directed at her. “Hells bells, don't you know anything?” Molly promptly collapsed in on herself and I questioned all of the decisions and life choices that had led me to this point. 

     “Get out of here. Go, I banish thee, child.” I told her with a laugh, pointing toward the back yard where I could hear the joyful screams of the other Carpenter kids playing. “And don't say hell. Especially not in front of Mr. & Mrs. Carpenter.” I called after her as she and Mouse bounded back outside. I surreptitiously scanned the vantage points of the other guests, and, determining that everyone was lost in conversation and paying Molly and I no mind, I grabbed her hand and quickly pulled her into the spare bedroom, locking the door behind us with one hand. My other pulled her so close against me that I knocked the breath out of her. Desperate, like a drowning man searching blindly for air, my lips found hers and I kissed her fiercely.  Her arms snaked around my neck, hands clutching my hair, pulling my head harder against hers. By the time I stopped for air, I was short of breath and her hair was tousled.

    “Good to see you too,” Molly panted, equally breathless. “I missed you so much!” She was pressed close against me still, her arms around my waist,  staring up at me. When my expression hardened she looked crestfallen. “I'm sorry,  I know-“

    “Not now. We need to have a conversation, and I need answers. I have been worried sick about you and wondering what exactly you've been up to.  People are dead and I think you know something about that.”

     She looked away guiltily and my heart sunk into my stomach. “I know,  I know,  I know.” She clutched frantically at her own hair. “I just-“

    I kissed her softly. “Not right now though, Molls. Whatever happened, we can talk about it later, once there’s not a house load of people and it’s just the two of us.”

     “…you'll stay?” Her blue eyes came up to search mine. “I…I was worried you might…”

    “Molly. I’ll always stay. No matter what.” I took her hands in mine, running my thumbs over her knuckles and squeezing slightly. “No. Matter. What.” I repeated.  “No matter how worried, pissed off, terrified and confused I am – which are not small amounts right now, by the way - I'm not going anywhere. Now, I'm going to get changed, and then let's go enjoy this party that you planned.”

     “I'm sorry I spoiled the surprise.  Everyone wanted to do it but I didn't want my house burned down so I thought I'd give you a heads up.”

     “Hah. Did you see my reaction? It almost didn't help.” I stripped down as I spoke. “Thank the gods I didn't have my rings on,  I might have sent the party to the hospital. HEY! Stop that!” I batted her hands away as she tried to fondle my junk. In her mild defense, she had been pressed up against me, the mantle made it so a stiff breeze was enough to get me going, and I'd been without sex for almost a week, after several weeks of getting it at least once a day, so my state of arousal was painfully obvious. I turned slightly, trying to keep out of her reach. “Seriously, the house may be silenced but this room isn't. Do you think our friends and family won't hear you? People five states away can hear you.”

      “So why don't you shove something in my mouth to shut me up?” Molly challenged. She started to sink to her knees and I wrapped one hand in her hair, jerking her back up by it,  which surprised both of us. I mean, I meant to stop her but I'd intended to just, y’know, put a hand on her arm or something. A thrill of arousal ran through my body.

     “That. Can also be for later. When we don't have guests.” Her eyes were a little unfocused and I could hear her pulse racing. Apparently, we had both liked that. Duly noted. I let her go and she whined but didn't stop me. I found one solitary set of clothes in the closet, which I had forgotten was empty until I’d opened it. “You're always prepared. Were you a boy scout when you were younger?” I teased, pulling on a pair of jeans that were much tighter than I would have picked out for myself.

   “I’d say I was more of a man scout.” Her eyes raked over me, half-dressed. I had to admit the jeans looked and felt good on my legs, but they also hugged my crotch in a way that required me to rather gingerly pull them past my erection. Once zipped, you might not notice if you weren't looking, but it was plain enough to see for anyone who happened to glance down. “You look good like that. You don’t need the shirt.”

     “Considering I still have your claw marks down my back from the shower the other day, I think I do.” The shirt was also very snug. It fit,  but it was thin and clung to my arms and chest in a way I wasn’t used to. I plucked at the front of it. “What is this?”

    “Your Halloween costume,” Molly told me, trying to hide a grin.

    “Absolutely not. I don’t do costumes. Especially not on Halloween. And what exactly am I supposed to be? The world's worst male escort?” I caught my reflection in the window as I turned to take the shirt off and paused. “Molly. Whose clothes am I wearing?” I asked slowly.

     “Your clothes, Harry. I bought them for you.” Her voice was so sweet and innocent. I fixed her with a level stare and waited. “Oh come on, I thought it’d be cute. Maggie’s already running around as you. Now you dress up as Thomas.” She traced the waistline of the jeans where they fell across my hips. “I have to say, I think you wear this look better than he does.”

    “No, I don’t. Because I’m a scarred, hairy, 40-year-old human. And Thomas is an ageless, sleek, unmarred Adonis who naturally oozes pheromones.”

     “I like you better.” She ran one hand along my arm,  tracing the muscles outlined by the thin white fabric. “Thomas was born with his body. You earned yours, with blood, sweat, and tears. Every scar is a symbol of a time when you could have been defeated but weren’t. When you beat the odds and emerged victorious.”

     “This one’s from when I damn near broke my jaw tripping over Mouse’s food bowl one morning and very courageously smacked my face into the kitchen counter on my way to coffee.” I pointed to the thin white line under my chin,  where I'd split it open. 

    “If you don't want to wear it you don't have to, “ She told me, sliding both hands along the plane of my chest. “It might be for the best, I'm not sure I'll be able to keep my hands off you like this.”

    I watched her,  considering for a moment, then said: “Bring me a Sharpie.”

    Everyone had migrated to the living room, as pizza had arrived while I was getting dressed. The moment I walked through the doorway, the conversation halted to a stunned silence. All eyes turned to me and I almost ducked and ran on pure instinct, but I forced myself to stand still with a look of casual indifference. Georgia gave me a once over and it looked like she was reevaluating something in her head. Andi glanced at me sideways and looked pleased, but snuggled in closer against Butters on the couch. Even Charity took a moment to appreciate the look, her eyes roaming over me in a way that made me feel intensely uncomfortable. I didn’t know Charity was even capable of looking at men that weren’t Michael. Murphy took one look and almost choked, laughing her ass off.

     “'Ask me about my awesome younger brother’” Thomas read off my chest. He snorted. “I think we both know I’d never wear that.”

     “It was going to be 'save a horse, ride a vampire,' but I didn’t want to have to explain it to the kids,” I added with a grin.

      “Just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean I can’t hit you.” He growled, but his eyes were their normal shade and he was fighting a losing battle with his face over whether or not to grin back.

    “That’s true. If anything people seem to hit harder on my birthday.” I’d been aiming for a joke but it fell flat on my audience, who all seemed to be thinking of the various Halloweens they’d been unfortunate enough to experience in my company. “Oh look, food to stuff in my face to keep me from talking!”

     I started eating and sat down in my favorite chair, a big cushy wingback. Butters, sitting closest nearby,  brought up a new expansion that was just released for the RPG we'd been playing and how it changed the rules of combat slightly. Soon, half the room was involved in a heated debate about whether we should keep the old rules or the new ones. As we spoke,  I watched Molly drift in from the kitchen and settle on the floor next to the fireplace on the other side of the room.

     I took the time to get a good look at her.  She looked tired but otherwise whole and hale. It took me a moment to determine what looked different – She was wearing her piercings again and had dyed (or more likely glamoured) her hair back to the same half cotton candy pink, half baby blue it had been before she first became my apprentice. She was talking with her parents quietly. I couldn't hear what they were saying but it seemed like a friendly conversation. She glanced my way,  mid-sentence and smiled when she saw me staring before continuing her conversation. 

     “Do they know, yet?” Thomas asked over my shoulder,  barely even a whisper.

    I shook my head.  “Just you and Murph so far.”

    “You should probably stop staring at her then. Michael looks confused.” I glanced over to find Michael watching me almost as intently as I had been watching Molly. Oops. I smiled at him and he returned it. He laid one hand fondly on Charity’s shoulder and came over to me. Thomas, being the supportive older brother that he was, disappeared to ‘go get a drink.’

      “Happy Birthday, Harry,” Michael’s voice was warm and loving. “I hope it’s a good one?”

    I looked around the room at my friends, all talking, laughing, smiling together. My little girl was sitting in the corner, still wearing her ridiculous costume, playing a board game with Molly’s siblings. I didn’t dare look at Molly but I didn’t need to. I could feel her warm presence across the room, like a beacon pointing me home. “It started out rough but, yeah, it might be the best one I’ve had in years.”

     “Charity says you’re living here now,” Michael commented.

     “Yeah. I mean, I was already here 3 nights out of 5. And I want to be more involved in Maggie’s life. Molly practically insisted.” I had never been very good at lying to Michael (or anyone else really.) Even when I didn’t say anything, he still somehow always knew the things I was afraid to tell him. “I think it’s good for her to have some company in this big house anyway.”

      Michael was silent for a moment and we both looked toward Molly. “Just be careful.” He said finally. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that she’s always had feelings for you. I’d hoped she’d grow out of it but…Try to let her down easy if she acts on it, okay?”

     “Michael, I.” I shut my mouth, not sure what it had been about to say but sure it wasn’t the right thing. I thought for a second. “You know I would never do anything to hurt her, not if I could avoid it.”

      He nodded. “I know.” We both continued watching Molly. “You’ve always looked after her.”

     “I’m surprised she isn’t wearing a costume,” I remarked. She was in a very animated conversation with Charity and Murphy, the three women laughing together.

    “She said she’s dressed as a ‘goth raver’” He informed me as if the words were a foreign language. “It’s a strange comfort to see her like that again, isn’t it?” He glanced over and smiled at my confused expression. “Molly was such a difficult teenager. We weren’t prepared, which is the nature of parenthood, I think. At the time, I wanted nothing more than for it to pass. But she’s changed so much since then. She’s a woman grown now. Older than her mother was when we had her. That’s the hardest part of having children, they grow up before you know, and you don’t even see it until it’s already happened. It would be nice to get a chance to see her again, as she was then, to tell her how proud she makes me, both then and now.”

     “I know what you mean,” I told him, thinking on it. There were a lot of things I’d tell 17-year-old Molly if I could. A lot of things I’d tell 30-year-old me too for that matter.

     The Carpenters and Maggie left around 8:00, to get the kids wound down and settled in time for bed. Molly and I both saw them to the door, giving hugs all around and bidding them farewell and goodnight. The moment the door shut behind them Molly threw herself on me, her arms around my neck and legs around my waist as she attacked me with kisses. I stumbled back, bracing myself against the door and kissed her back with all the pent up fervor of a week apart. Her tongue twined with mine and I felt a strange jolt each time her piercing collided with my flesh. I wanted to ask her what enchantment she’d used on it but that would have required us to stop, and I just didn’t see a realm of existence where that was going to happen.

     “Hey, Molly, where do you keep your – Aah! Is everything – oh. Umm. Uh.” Butters stood dumbfounded in the middle of the hallway, staring at us like a deer in the headlights. His hand was frozen inside his robe at the waist, hovering near where I assume Fidelacchius hung. Molly either didn’t notice him or didn’t care, since we didn’t pause for a moment. Slowly he withdrew his hand and tapped gently on the glass of his fake lightsaber, which started glowing with an all-too-familiar orange light. I smiled to myself and decided, what the hell? And kept right on doing what I was doing.

    “Did I miss the party? How many people did Harry accidentally murder when you surprised him? I – Hot damn! It’s about time!” Bob let out a low whistle. “Now that’s a birthday present. Come on Harry, unwrap your gift, let’s see what she’s got!” I felt Molly smile against my lips.

     “You wouldn’t know what to do with me, even if you got the chance, Bob.” She said, slowly sliding down off of me. She turned to face them, running her fingers through her hair to straighten it up. “And trust me, Harry already knows what I’ve got. Don’t you?” She winked at me over her shoulder. I cupped her ass lightly with both hands, making her squeal in surprise.

    “I may have previously unwrapped you, yes.” Bob started laughing, deep and rich. Butters still seemed stunned. I took Molly’s hand in my own and as we walked back toward the living room I put my other arm around Waldo’s shoulder, guiding him back to the couch. “Hey, everyone. Can I have your attention please?” For the second time in a day, silence fell and all eyes were on me. “Thank you. I’d like to thank everyone for coming out here and for making this a wonderful birthday. Also,” I squeezed Molly’s hand and glanced over at her. “Molly and I-“

      “They're finally banging!” Bob announced loudly. My face was instantly flushed, my cheeks burning. Thomas snickered.

      I cleared my throat and continued. “Molly and I have started dating.”

     You could hear a pin drop in the room for a moment before Will finally said “Each other?” Thomas snickered harder.

     “Um. Yes?” I responded, lamely.

     “Yes, each other,” Molly added with fervor, squeezing my hand tightly in reassurance.  “We've been together for about a month now and,” she smiled radiantly at me. Her face looked so young and carefree and for a moment the familiar panic of ‘oh no, what am I doing, she's a child!’ leapt in my chest before I shoved it down. “I've never been happier.”

      “I know the feeling,” I replied, forgetting that there was an entire room full of people watching, and I shoved my lips hard against hers.

     “Okay, okay, settle down now,” Murphy called from the back of the room. “We're all very happy for you but some of us just ate and this display is nauseating.”

Chapter Text

     We were the topic of conversation for the majority of the night. I had an awkward conversation with Butters and Will assuring them that no, it had nothing to do with our mantles, no, it had just started recently, it hadn’t been going on ‘the whole time.’ Yes, I felt fine and this was consensual. “Hells bells, guys. It's me, okay? I'm not taking advantage of her, I never have and never would.”

     “I can confirm that. And believe me, she’s given him plenty of opportunities.” Bob piped up.

     “That’s not so much what I was worried about,” Waldo admitted with a small frown. He kept his voice low and glanced across the room to where Molly was laughing with Andi and Georgia. “Molly’s made no secret of her feelings for you and you’ve made no secret of the fact that they weren’t reciprocated. Suddenly you break up with Murphy, who you’ve been playing cat and mouse with for years, and you end up in her arms?”

    “I’m not sure I care for your insinuation, Butters,” I growled, the mantle flaring to life inside of me before I knew what was happening. I took a step closer, within range to strike, even as I tried to rein myself in.

    “I’m sure I don’t care how you feel about it, Harry,” Waldo replied calmly, standing his ground without so much as a blink. If I wasn’t so busy trying to stop myself from murdering him, I would have been impressed.

    “Hey, let’s all take a breather here,” Will interjected, placing a hand on each of our chests. I forced myself to visibly back down, looking away. “Look, we all like Molly, right? She’s saved our hides. And she’s generally a good kid.”

     “She’s about five minutes younger than you, I’m not sure you’re in a position to call her a ‘kid’,” I grumbled.

  “Whatever, you know what I mean. She’s a good friend. But…you have to see how this looks from our side. It’s kind of out of the blue. And well, she’s been known to be a bit, err, ‘off’ before. And you weren’t exactly yourself when you first became the Winter Knight, so…” I wanted to be angry. I was angry. But suddenly I saw what they were seeing. I hadn’t said why Murphy and I broke up, and I doubt Murph had either, and it must have seemed sudden to people who weren’t on the inside of it.

     Now here, apparently out of nowhere, I was moving in with and dating someone half my age. A young witch known to have a history of tampering with minds when she saw fit, who’d been carrying a torch for me for a solid half of her life. She had gone off the deep-end while I was ‘dead’, more so than anyone else. She and I knew there was more at work there, but the others didn’t. Now she was the Winter Lady, unfathomable power at her fingertips and a natural inclination for tricks and seduction. 

  The fight went out of me in an instant. “I'm sorry,  you're right.  I mean, you're not right about Molly and me but, I can see why you’re concerned.” I wiped a hand over my face. “Listen, this surprised us too, okay? But it's real. I haven't been tampered with,  I'm still in my right frame of mind.  Murphy and I was a mutual thing and Molly and I…it just happened. I think it would have happened a long time ago if our circumstances were different.”

    “You mean if you weren't so hung up on your puritanical ideals of right and wrong?” Bob asked. “'Bob she's a teenager’, ‘Bob she's my apprentice’, pah. What a waste of time.”

    “Shut up, Bob,” I told him, practically on reflex. We’d had this conversation before.

    “Come on, you had to wait until I couldn’t watch? That’s not fair. Just tell me,  is she as kinky as she looks or is it just an act?”

    “Shut up before I make you shut up.”

     “You’re not my boss any more. I don't have to listen to you.”

   “I still have a hammer and am still willing to use it.”

    “Bob, drop it. Harry, please don’t break either my sprit of intellect or my lightsaber.” Butters chided us both. I felt a pang of regret, remembering that Bob was no longer my spirit, but given that Mab wanted him dead and Molly and I were technically her right and left-hand men, that was probably for the best. Waldo searched my face, and I felt naked before him.

     It felt strange to feel his evaluating gaze on me. It reminded me of Michael, how he always seemed to just know what I was thinking and I wondered if it was a perk of Knighthood or just training. Apparently he decided he liked whatever he saw since a slow grin broke out across his face. “Alright, well as long as no one’s been brainwashed or compelled, congratulations!” he clapped me on the shoulder. Will followed suit and suddenly the moment had passed and we fell into comfortable conversation.

      There was some light ribbing from pretty much everyone – I was robbing the cradle, Molly was well out of my league, what exactly had I been “teaching” her down in my lab, but all good-natured. Thomas recounted our impromptu visit after our date night, which had everyone laughing. Georgia and Will left around 10:00 because their little one was getting tired, but the rest of us set to drinking and revelry. I was worried that it might be awkward between Murphy and Molly. They were clearly not going to be best buddies any time soon, my ex and my current, and there’d been a rift between them since my brief stint in the spirit world that hadn’t mended. But to my surprise they seemed to get along pretty well, often sharing in jokes at my expense.

     Of course, it didn’t hurt that Murphy (who I was relieved to find had come over with Thomas) had started drinking early on in the evening and that at some point her and Andi decided to see who would drink the other under the table. 

      Dread set in when the doorbell rang just shy of midnight, but Thomas told me it was probably just Justine, who had Lara business to attend to but said she’d stop by if she could. I relaxed but still pulled on my duster to be safe. I tried to keep from laughing as Molly (who had barely been drinking) convinced Murphy (extremely intoxicated) to join her in dancing on the coffee table to Bonnie Tyler’s “Holding Out For A Hero.” The two were singing into empty beer bottles as though they were mics when I entered the hall. With some trepidation, I pulled open the door to find a large dark-skinned man in a Batman mask with a sword hilt sticking up over his shoulder.

     “Trick or treat,” He drawled in a thick Russian accent, grinning. “And, if I'm not mistaken, happy birthday, da?”

     “Sanya! Yes, thank you.” I stepped back to let him in and led the way. “Everyone’s in the living room, just through here. What are you doing-“

    “Somewhere after midnight, in my wildest fantasy, somewhere just beyond my reach there’s someone reaching back for me, racing on the thunder, rising with the heat, it’s gonna take-“ There was a loud crack as the table gave way. I immediately rushed to Molly, who as it turned out, didn't need my help at all. She made falling seem graceful, rolling into a crouch. As an afterthought, I looked over to Karrin to find her lying in Sanya’s arms, eyes wide. It seems she’d almost fallen backward where she would have cracked her head open on the end table, but Sanya had stepped in to catch her as she fell.

     “I did not know that you were a dancer as well as a fighter,” The Knight said, smiling down at her. He carried her effortlessly like she was no heavier than a pillow. You could practically hear her heart racing, mind reeling, trying to recover from the shock of almost dying as she stared at him. Once his words caught up with her, she blushed.

    “Mm not. Molly’ssa bad influence.” She glanced over the side of his arm. “Could you please put me down now?”

     “If that’s what you want, yagodka.” He set her down in front of the couch, and held her, guiding her to her seat before sitting down next to her. “You people really know how to throw a party.”

    I laughed. “Well, it’s the first birthday in at least ten years that no one’s tried to kill me, so we’re celebrating. Usually our parties get derailed before it gets to this point.” I returned to my wingback chair and Molly, after a moment’s indecision, climbed up to sit on my lap, her legs dangling over one arm. Sanya raised an eyebrow but said nothing as I wrapped an arm around her.

    “We weren't expecting you to make it,  Sanya,” Butters said. “I thought you were on a mission in Alaska?”

    “I was supposed to be, but my plane had a mechanical failure and we had to make an emergency landing in Chicago. When they said there were no flights to Juno until tomorrow afternoon, I decided to stop and visit. Perhaps it's a good thing I did, da?” He elbowed Murphy lightly. 

    “Perks of the job.” Molly smiled. “You're always where you’re needed most.”

     “It would be nice if we had that bonus, wouldn't it?” I mused, half to myself. “Certainly would have come in handy this week.” I could feel Molly tense up, but it wasn't visible.  I made small circles against her back with my hand, pacifying. 

      We continued talking late into the night, but eventually everyone decided it was time to go. I thanked everybody in turn, and we walked them to the door, which felt very “couple-y” and nice.  Before they left,  we pulled Waldo and Sanya aside and asked that they not say anything about our relationship to Michael and Charity, just to give us time to tell them in the right way. Sanya winked and pulled us both into a single bear hug. Butters looked uncomfortable but begrudgingly agreed. I breathed a sigh of relief when we finally closed the door behind us and we were alone again.

    Molly pounced, much like she had after her parents had left, but I caught her and set her down with just a gentle kiss. “No Molls, we need to talk first and if we start that we won’t stop until one or both of us falls asleep.”

     “You've seen through my clever plot.” She ran her hands over my hips and ass, refusing to look at me. “But honestly, can’t this conversation wait til morning?” She toyed with the button on my jeans. I considered it for a moment before I grabbed her wrists, halting her. I could feel her heartbeat quicken beneath my fingers this time and was again surprised to find myself enjoying that reaction. I let her go. 

     “No,  it can't. I need answers,  Molly.” There was a hard edge to my voice and she flinched from it.

     “Please don’t do this. Can we just pretend it never happened? That I was here the whole time?” When I said nothing, she sighed in frustration. “Okay, fine, but let's not do this here in the hallway. Can we at least sit down?” We made our way back to the living room, sitting down opposite each other. Splinters of the coffee table still sat between us.

     “You know what I'm going to ask.” I folded my hands in my lap to keep them under control. She nodded once but didn't say anything. “Fine, where were you for the last week?”

     “Out of town, on business for the most part. ” She replied calmly, staring at her feet. 

     “Where were you when you went out of town?”

     “I traveled.”

     “Where?” My voice had gone cold. “And don't say out of town. Be more specific.”

     “I…” Her mouth worked soundlessly. “The Nevernever.”

      “I'm not in the mood for playing games with you, Molly!” I found myself shouting and forced myself to calm down. “I’ve already said I'm not going anywhere, no matter what. I just want to know what happened, where you were and why.” She started crying but said nothing. “Fine, what do you know about the murder of Ralolei the elf?”

       “I know the Queen told you to leave it alone, that Winter Law was upheld.”

      I ground my teeth. “Do you know who killed him?”

     “Yes.” No further information volunteered.

     “Do you know why he was killed?” I prompted

     “Yes.” It was barely a whisper, forlorn. 

     “Did you kill him?” I didn't want to ask, but I had to. She started crying harder, hiding her face in her hands.  

    “N-no. I d-d-didn’t kill him.” I watched her for a moment, debating my next question when she added. “I know who did but, Harry, I can't. Please drop it. It's over. Just let it go.”

     “No, I can't just let it go. Innocent people have been killed, brutally, and with magic.”

     “No, none of them were killed with magic.” She said quickly. If she had been capable of lying I would have said it was too quick, but the upside of a sidhe girlfriend is you know she’s not outright lying to you, just likely being manipulative and deceptive. “There were no violations of the Council’s laws, Winter’s laws, or the Accords.”

      “I saw the crime scenes, Molls. I could feel the magical energy there. Don't tell me magic wasn’t used.”

     She huffed in frustration.  “I said none of them were killed with magic.” She clearly enunciated each syllable, sounding annoyed.  “Do you remember what Luccio said, about your mom?”

      “I- what?  Don't change the subject!”

      “Think, Harry! What did Luccio tell you, about Margaret.”

      “A lot of things but I don't see how that's relev…” I looked up suddenly. “She was big on grey magic. She would do things that violated the spirit of a law, but not the letter. You're saying that's what you did?”

     “I didn't kill them.” Her frustration was evident. “I know who did. We can't discuss it further.”

     “Whatever you know, I-”

    “Harry.” Her eyes blazed, fingers clenched tight against her knee. Her words came harshly around gritted teeth. “We can’t. Discuss it. Further.”

    Realization hit me like a ton of bricks. “You mean you literally can't discuss it further.” She gave me a ‘Well, duh!’ look. “Okay, we can work around this. Umm. Were you there at the time of death for these victims?”

     “Yes.”

     “Were you alone with them?” She screwed up her face but didn’t answer. “Okay, I'm going to assume you wouldn’t need to be told not to say anything if there wasn’t someone else there.” She smiled but said nothing. “What's Marcone got to do with this?”

      She blinked. “Criminal scumbag Johnny Marcone?”

     “Uh, yes. That's how I got involved in the first place. The victims were all his people.” She stared blankly at me. “He told me this was his favor, to keep his mouth shut about us.”

    Molly frowned. “To the best of my knowledge, this wasn’t about Baron Marcone or his business dealings. Although…no, never mind. It’s irrelevant.”

     “Can you tell me what it was about?” She shook her head. “Okay, let me tell you what I think and maybe you can at least confirm or deny it. Somehow all of these victims managed to offend the Queen. She didn’t want to dirty Her hands, so She sent you and at least one other person to dispatch them. Either the Queen told you to make a spectacle of each death or it was personal for the other person. You were there to mitigate damage and to help ensure that there were no witnesses. Am I on the right track?”

     “You are a P.I for a reason, Harry.” She said with a smile.

     “Alright, great. But then what’s the connection? And why hide it from me? Why not just ask me to do it, for that matter? Killing people she wants dead is what she hired me for. Why not have me do it?”

     “Well, Harry, you do things your way,” Molly told me. “A hammer is a useful tool, but not all problems are nails. Sometimes you need a screwdriver instead. And don’t take it personally. I can’t talk about anything I do for her with anyone who isn't…related to the business. And even then I'm limited.” She grabbed my hands.  “Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be away for so long and I didn't mean to worry you.  I wish I could tell you everything, but even if I could…I'm not sure I'd want you to know the things I've done. Not just this week but in the last two years. I haven't once broken a Law or directly done something against my will but…she likes to play me against myself, to put me in positions to make impossible choices. I’m not sure if it's part of my training, or she's trying to break me, or it's just her nature.”

      She choked back a sob. “This is my life now, Harry. She calls and I answer, whether I want to or not. And I do what she asks, whether I want to or not. I do my best to do it my way, on my terms, but at the end of the day, it’s mostly trying to decide which of several bad options is the best one. I’m not,” she gestured down at her outfit “this girl anymore. Sometimes I’m going to leave with no notice, and when I come back, I probably won’t be able to tell you where I’ve been, or what I’ve done. There will always be secrets between us. If we continue with this, that’s something you’re going to have to accept.”

     “I’m not going anywhere. If that’s how it has to be, then so be it.” I caught her eyes with mine. “But know that I’ll never give up on finding a way around it. Of finding a way to fix this.”

    “I know.” She smiled sadly. “I love you more for it, even if it’s futile.” She hesitated for a moment. “I want you to know, you’re right to worry. I worry about the things I’ve done, and about the fact that they get easier with each decision I make. I worry that even if you did find a way to get us out from under her thumb, you wouldn’t like who I’ve become. I’m not the person you used to know.”

    “Molly, I will love you no matter who or what you become,  no matter what you do. Because I know that you will always make the best choice possible,  even when your choices are ‘worst,’ ‘worster,' and ‘worstest.’” That coaxed a small laugh out of her.  “I’m in no position to judge. I’ve made bad choices, I’ve done things I’ll never forgive. There’s so much blood on my hands, they’ll never wash clean.” I sighed. “Listen, we can't all be Knights of the Cross, okay? We don't all get to have that assurance that we’re always doing the Right Thing. I'm not the man I thought I'd be at 40. The world is a lot less black and white than I thought, and I think I'm my biggest example of that. I used to believe we were all heroes and villains and now I think we're all just people trying the best we can to stay alive, stay sane and maybe find some kind of happiness.”

     “But you always make the right choice. When there are no good options you find new options.”

     “Is that right?” I asked her levelly. “You don't think I've made any bad choices? Come on, Molls. You know better than anyone that that's not true. ”

     “That was different. You were being influenced. I should have-“

    “No. There was nothing you should have done differently.  I made a choice. It was an ill-informed choice, but a choice none the less. I made a lot of choices that night and almost none were good ones. They weren't my first bad choices and I'm sure, despite my best efforts, they won't be my last. All I can do is try to learn, try to be better, try to fix the damage I've done.” I leaned in to kiss her forehead. “If you can't tell me everything, I can live with that. If you have to do things I wouldn't like, I can live with that too. As long as you keep trying to do the best you can to mitigate damage, to choose the best option you have. As long as you keep coming back to me, no matter how changed you may be.”

      “I’ll always come back for you, Harry.” There were tears in her starry eyes. “I'll always be yours. No matter what happens, I'm yours until the end of days.”

    “Only then?” I asked with a smile. “Because the way my life goes, that might be next Tuesday.”

    “Fine,  jerk. How about forever?”

  I pretended to think about it. “Yeah, forever sounds good.” We started off kissing soft and slow, but that didn't last long before our hands started to get involved as well, caressing, groping and stroking. I was pleasantly surprised to find that there was nothing on under her ridiculously short skirt as my hand slid up her thigh.

    Molly pulled away for a moment. “Are we done talking now? Because I'd really like to give you your birthday present.”

   “Talking done,” I confirmed,  breathless, trying to pull off her top. She pulled further away.

    “Okay, good. I'm going to hop in the shower. I'm a mess.” She gave me a quick, chaste kiss. “I won't keep you waiting long, don't worry.”

     Before I knew it,  she'd left me sitting on the couch by myself,  jeans so tight I thought I might get zipper-shaped scars on sensitive areas. After a minute or two of waiting,  I decided to start cleaning up the living room. I gathered up the shards of the coffee table and shoved them in the trash. I brought empty cans and bottles out to the recycling bin. Satisfied with the cleanliness of the living room,  I turned off all the lights (I really had to ask Molly how she managed to wizard-proof everything) and started on the dishes. I was just putting the last plate in the drainboard when I heard the click of the bathroom door opening. “I'll meet you upstairs in just a moment!” I called but turned at the whoof of a fire igniting in the fireplace in the living room. Slowly I walked back into the room and saw candles were lit everywhere.  And standing in front of the fire,  wearing her long brown apprentice robes and nothing else was Molly.

     “What’s this now?” I asked, with a quirked smile. I’d seen this before, the firelight glinting off her piercings, damp pastel hair hanging around her face. A touch of pink even rose high on her cheeks. She looked young and vulnerable.

    “’You looked into me, and I looked into you’” She said, and I heard the echo of her younger self. “I saw the sort of man you are. Kind and gentle. Lonely…and hungry.”

    “I’m definitely at least one of those things,” I came over to stand close to her, admiring the way the light danced across her skin. She brought one hand up to touch my chest, pressing under my shirt. “You’re getting bolder, Grasshopper. I don’t remember you touching my bare skin the last time I saw you like this.” She ducked her head to hide a grin for a moment before composing herself, her face a perfect match for the look she’d given me on the night she became my apprentice.

      “You saved me.” Molly shrugged her shoulders slightly and the robes fell to the floor, exposing her in all her naked glory. I groaned somewhere low in my throat, remembering that first night, remembering how hard it had been to keep myself from giving her exactly what she wanted. She’d filled in a little more since then, but it wasn’t a detraction by any means. Tattoo ink danced across her pale skin in an elaborate pattern that traced its way down to her stomach. Her piercings were simple but plentiful and I wanted to run my tongue over each one, to savor the comingled taste of metal and her skin. “I want to thank you. To learn from you.” Her voice was small, and it trembled noticeably. Those deep blue eyes, so honest and open, trusting me completely. For a moment I forgot that it was a game, that she wasn’t a teenager anymore or my apprentice and that still wasn’t going to stop me. “I want you to teach me things.”

    “What things?” I asked, playing along. I ran one hand along her bare shoulder and she shivered. 

    “Everything. Show me everything.” Oceans of blue stared up at me, filled with longing, not just for the carnal acts that were about to take place (and oh, they were) but for everything I had to give. I thought, looking at her reverent gaze as she trembled ever so slightly, that I wasn’t the only one getting lost in the memory of that night. At that moment, I wasn’t looking at Molly Carpenter, Winter Lady, and accomplished witch. I was looking at Molly Carpenter, a young girl who wanted desperately to be just like me, to please me and to impress me. Want and need were undisguised, written plain as day across her delicate features. I watched her lips slowly form whispered words. “Teach me.”

     I reached out to caress her face with my right hand, a much more tender gesture than I’d given her originally, but I couldn’t help myself. She didn’t need to be nervous. I’d seen her wear confidence like a second skin, especially in the bedroom. But she was, nervous and vulnerable, perfectly open and trusting. This was a gift, no mistake. I’d told her before that I’d thought about her offer on more than one lonely night. But I thought maybe this was something else too, something important for her. “Close your eyes. Kneel.” My voice had grown thick with arousal and her breath caught, as though she hadn’t been expecting that.

    She knelt slowly, with an unconscious grace, knees spread slightly apart. She closed her eyes and waited, lips parted, chest rising and falling rapidly. Because I’m not a nice man, I kept her waiting while I took off my shirt, carefully folding it and placing it on the arm of the couch. I took off my pentacle as well, gingerly laying it on top. I was getting caught up in the moment and had to remind myself that this was a game. It was okay to touch, to give her what she wanted and to take what I wanted in return. I let a little steel harden around my heart, around my natural instincts, and felt myself slipping into the role of mentor, not as I’d been but as she’d expected me to be. I lifted her chin with one finger to stare at her face.

      “Lesson one.” She took a deep breath, steeling herself, undoubtedly remembering what lesson one had been. I kissed her open mouth, hard and fast and her eyes snapped open. “Lesson one is that you are mine. Get that through your head right now, Molly. I’m never, ever going to let you go.” With one finger I traced her tattoo up from her chest along her neck and she shivered beautifully. Something dark took hold of me then, all my hidden desires fighting to come out, and I let them. Grabbing her hard by the wrist, I shoved her hand against the denim-clad bulge of my erection, slowly massaging her fingers until they moved of their own accord, stroking me. “Magic is an art of balance. Of give and take.” I told her, fighting to keep my voice controlled, “What will you give? What can I take?”

      “Everything.” She brought her other hand up, locking her wrists together and offering them to me. “Anything you want, it’s yours. Take me.”

      I did exactly that, lifting her by just the wrists and pinning her to the wall. I used one hand to hold her while the other explored. I took my time, feeling every inch of her, sometimes touching soft and gentle, others hard, groping grasps. She moaned every time I encountered a piercing, and they all caused the same jolt of energy to rush through me like a wave of fire. “Mm, what kind of enchantment did you put on these?” I asked before laving her nipple.

     “No enchantment.” She gasped from a strained voice. “Just regular metal.”

     “Doesn’t feel like it,” I said between suckling. I ran my tongue over the metal again, feeling the shock of it.

     It was hard to focus on conversation, or on anything other than the feel of her body, prone beneath my hands, so it took a moment to register the implications when she said, “They’re just normal stainless-steel studs.”

      Once it finally dawned on me, I looked up in shock. “Steel? You’re wearing steel piercings?”

     Her eyes glittered. “It’s what I had lying around.”

     “But. Iron. Is in steel. Doesn’t that…” I looked over her body, to the dozen or so rings that glinted back at me. She wiggled out from under my now-limp grip and placed her hands on my waist.

    “Hurt?” Molly looked down, focused on undoing the button of my pants. She rolled a shoulder. “It burns. But it’s not pure iron, it doesn’t cause my skin to turn black.”

     “Still. Jesus, Molls.” I touched the ring in her brow. “Why…?”

    “Because it’s Halloween night. A night when we can be whoever we want.” She sank back to her knees, pulling my pants and underwear with her. “And for tonight, I just wanted to be Molly Carpenter for you. Your Molly and no one else’s.” Suddenly our surroundings changed and for all appearances, we were standing in the living room of my old apartment, with the mismatched rugs and second-hand furniture. The scent of old books and that faintly musty basement smell lingered in the air. My vision grew blurry and I realized there were tears in my eyes. Molly knelt before me, her pupils dilated wide, begging for acceptance and the touch of skin. “Please Harry, let me thank you. Let me please you. Let’s rewrite our story, if only for tonight.”

      I started to say something, to tell her she already pleased me, that she was already mine and I was already hers, but then her mouth was on my cock, taking me in and words became impossible. My knees buckled halfway through and I met her on the ground, her head bobbing over my lap. I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t last long, but the feeling of that tongue ring when she swirled it around – god, it was too much. She pumped me hard, working her throat muscles. My breath stopped completely as I emptied into her, shuddering, and she swallowed me down.

     “That’s uh, that’s a very important lesson for a young apprentice to learn.” I panted and she laughed.

     “I bet there’s so much more you can teach me.” She took my hands and pulled me to the floor, on top of her. She looked so delicate in the firelight, flushed with pleasure and hair askew. The soft robe she’d been wearing was in a pile beneath us. She looked like innocence and sensuality rolled into one, her creamy skin begging for someone to touch it, even if she didn’t know what that touch would imply. Come corrupt me, it said, claim me for your own.

      I ran my hands over every inch of exposed skin. Her shoulders were smooth as silk. Her ribs pressed gently against her sides, gliding under my fingertips. The soft curve of her stomach, with the sparkling pierced navel. Her breasts, pert and luscious. I traced her areolas until the flesh stiffened at my touch and she whimpered. I slid my hands down to hold her hips, rolling circles against her pelvic bone with my thumbs. My fingers wandered down to do the same to her clitoris, lazy slow circles of pressure. A gasp escaped her and she reached out to me desperately, trying to pull me closer.

     “Such an eager student,” I growled, lowering my face to her neck while I continued teasing her pleasure center.

     “I have-mmm-an excellent-ungh-teacher.” Molly raked her fingers up my back, dragging her nails lightly. I stroked her thigh, applying gentle pressure until she spread her legs open to make room for me. “Teach me more, sir.” I made a noise somewhere between a groan and a roar. Fuck. Sir. It felt dirty and wrong but that somehow only made it hotter. I lost any remaining cool I had and plunged myself inside her. Her legs entwined with mine, our bodies quickly becoming slick with sweat. Molly’s voice was high and strained with need, urging me on,  deeper, faster, harder. “Take me, Harry,” she cried “Take all of me, I'm yours.”

     “My Molly, “ I crooned, loving the way that sounded. “You really are fucking perfect, do you know that?” I pushed a strand of hair out of her face and rolled my hips as I thrust. She rose to meet me each time and it was like heaven. I kissed her deep then, cradling her head with one hand. Her orgasm came like the break of dawn, ever so slowly then suddenly the sun had risen and she completely shattered. I let go and finished quickly, watching her unravel in the afterglow before collapsing on top of her.

Chapter Text

    At some point, our surroundings had turned back into our living room. I wasn’t sure how long that had been the case but I commended her for being able to keep the glamour up as long as she had. I would have needed all of my concentration to pull off something half as impressive for half as long. Molly made a soft sound and when I moved to investigate I was alarmed to see her crying. Immediately I sat up and pulled her close to me. “Whoa, hey, Molls, what’s wrong?”

     “Nothing, you big goof.” She gazed up at me with eyes of liquid sapphire, a radiant smile splitting her face even as the tears kept coming. “That was just…I love being with you. It still seems too good to be true. It’s been a hard week and I needed this so badly. Needed you.” She snuggled closer to me, laying her head on my bare chest.

      “Well, I’m happy to take one for the team, any time you need me,” I winked and she laughed. “I needed this too. I missed you so much. I thought I was going to go crazy without you here.”

     “I’m really sorry. I didn’t think it would be so long.” She nuzzled against my chin and I felt the jolt of an eyebrow piercing and flinched.

    “Couldn’t you have found silver or gold for these instead? Something that wouldn’t hurt?” I ran the smooth metal of her lip ring under my fingers.

     “Of course,” She looked up at me like I was an idiot. “But that wouldn’t have helped. What good are they without iron?”

    I raised an eyebrow. “What good are they with iron?”

    The look was upgraded to stunned disbelief at my utter stupidity.  “Harry, the sidhe can’t stand cold iron. Okay, you remember the day you came back, you got shot full of nails and it almost incapacitated you?”

    “I try not to, but unfortunately yes.”

    “Well, that’s because iron weakens the mantle’s power and therefore its hold on you. One piece of pure iron piercing your skin is enough to shut off about 80% of your access to its power – and also its influences. If you get multiple pieces in, the effect is multiplied.” The more she spoke, the more excited she became. “Now, my mantle has a much more…hands-on relationship. A much stronger influence on me. Hence why you still make electronics explode and my veils are a million times more awesome. So,  while iron does weaken my mantle, it also sets my skin on fire when I touch it, and I need more of it. I’ve experimented around with a couple different things. Iron that's been plated with another metal sort of helps,  but mostly it just pissed her off and itches. Stainless steel is perfect. It burns but like sunburn instead of actual fire so it's manageable. It’s not as effective as plain iron but I've got no shortage of places to pierce.” Her grin was manic and terrifying, too wide and toothy for a girl of her size. “Enough of these babies shuts that bitch up entirely.”

     I didn't know what to say. I looked at her as if for the first time and saw things I’d missed throughout the course of the night. Her skin was warm, not just in the comforting way I was used to, but in the real, living, breathing, human way. Beneath the makeup, her eyes were tired, small bags visible and there was a tightness to them. Earlier I’d assumed it was stress and worry, and I'm sure that was part of it,  but it was also pain. The same for the slight tremble that still existed in her hands. I smoothed her hair back from her face,  looking down at her, looking into her eyes. For the first time that we were together, I realized, I was looking at Molly, just Molly, soft and fragile and perfectly human. “You're so beautiful, “ I breathed and watched her face flush. “And crazy. What the hell are you doing? Take those things out,  you're obviously in pain.”

     “I don't like your face,” Molly replied, as though it were a reasonable, perhaps even wise response. I stared at her for a moment. “It's Tuesday, February 30^th, and I'm the king of Gondor.”

     “Oooookaaaaay.” I scrambled to try to keep up then suddenly realized what she was doing. “That's a lie! You can lie!”

     “Of course it’s a lie, I love your stupid face.” My mind started racing with the implications and the possibilities. She kissed me then settled back against my chest, idly toying with one of her earrings. “I don’t want to take them out yet. It’s not just lying, it’s everything. There are so many things I didn’t even realize I was missing. I feel everything more. Being with you, like this, tonight it felt…better than anything I’ve ever felt, with you or anyone else. I know it’s early but, I love you so much I feel like, like I can’t possibly fit all of these emotions in my chest. I feel so alive. I’d almost forgotten how it feels to be human.”

     I stroked her head, enjoying the warmth of her against me. “You don’t need to wear jewelry that burns just to be human. You are human.”

    “If I was human, the jewelry wouldn’t burn.” She said with a small laugh, sitting up and combing out the tangles in her hair with her hands. “It’s okay, Harry. I’ll survive. I’ve gone through worse.” I could see the difference in her now clear as day. Her movements were still graceful, but there was a hesitant, nervous quality to them, as though she wasn’t quite sure of herself. Her body was the same shape I was now familiar with, all the same curves and lines, but it seemed softer somehow. She lacked the ethereal, unnatural beauty that the mantle had bestowed, and she looked twice as lovely for it. My Molly. I could get used to this. “Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked, blushing.

    I slowly gave her a once-over, smirking when I managed to make her turn a darker shade of red. “Oh me?  Just admiring a beautiful girl. My beautiful girl.”

    “You’re stupid.” She said, but she smiled none the less. Her eyes roamed over me, everywhere but my own, before finally settling on her own fidgeting hands where they sat in her lap. “D-did you like your gift?” Her tone said she was teasing, and my natural inclination was to make a sarcastic comment about how I hated every moment of it but I could tell from her rigid spine and tight shoulders that she was genuinely asking and decided I'd said enough stupid things to hurt her in the past.

      “Best thing anyone's ever given me.” I pulled myself up, using the arm of the couch. Courtesy of some combination of being a wizard and being the Winter Knight, I was still spry for my age, but I was finding that I was starting to get a little too old for long periods of sitting, kneeling or laying on the floor. I expected her to protest  (as she usually did) when I pulled my jeans back on, but she continued kneeling, just staring at the carpet. “Hey, you okay?”

      Molly stirred, clearly drawn out of her thoughts,  and looked up at me with a ghost of a smile.  “Yeah,  just…thinking about how much different things might have been if…”

    “If that's how the night after your trial had gone?” She nodded quietly.  “Well,  for starters I imagine at least three different people would have tried to kill me for being an unrepentant scum bag.  And I’d probably have let them.” I sunk down onto the couch and gestured for her to join me. She brought the robes with her, wrapping them around her like a blanket, and settled against me. “I don't think either of us would have liked the man I’d have become if I’d taken advantage of you, that night. I've seen that kind of thing first hand, Molly, from the apprentice side. There's a difference between the fantasy and the reality.”

      She sat up and looked at me, confusion and surprise etched across her face. “Ebenezer didn’t…?”

     “God, no. That’s…we need to have a talk about Ebenezer later, but no. I’m talking about my first mentor. Justin. And he didn’t take advantage of me in that way, no. Elaine, I think, though she’s never said, but not me. But there’s more than one way to take advantage of a person, especially a teenager who’s so eager for your approval and wants so desperately to make you proud that he or she would do anything you asked.” I watched the firelight dance for half a heartbeat. “Well,  almost anything.”

     “You’re not like that though,  Harry. You wouldn't-“

    “I would.” It was a cold, hard statement of pure fact. “Molls, I've held black magic in my hands. I've done things that violated multiple Laws at a time. That sort of thing,  it’s like a drug. The thrill.  The power.  The knowledge that anything you want you can take, you can bend the universe and everything in it to your will. That's a part of me. I can feel it.” My hands twitched involuntarily. “I'm not like that,  because I do my best to resist doing things that feed the monster in me.  If I'd given in that night, I wouldn't have been able to turn back from that path.”

    “And I would have followed.” Molly mused, a terrible certainty in her tone. “Hmm. Maybe you're right.”

     “I'm always right, “ I kissed her forehead,  lingering. She nuzzled against my lips and face.

     “I still like lesson one better this time around.”

      “You caught me by surprise this time.  I didn't have any ice water handy.” She glared at me but twined one of her hands in mine. “I’m sorry for that,  by the way.  I should have been more gentle,  I was just afraid that if I wasn’t strong enough about it,  you'd try again.”

    “I did anyway.  Repeatedly.” She gave me a rueful smile.  “I just learned to be a bit more subtle about it.  Which was, of course, a wasted effort on you, since anything short of a flashing sign that says ‘Take me,  I'm yours. This means you Harry Dresden.’ is too subtle for you to notice.”

   “Hey.  That is…entirely accurate,  yeah. Okay.” I conceded with a nod and a smile. 

     She sat back a little bit and looked at me,  hesitantly.  Her mouth worked wordlessly for a few beats before she finally settled on a simple “Thank you.”

    “For what?” I asked,  rubbing her back lightly. She was so easy to read – to know when she was nervous or upset – yet it was so difficult to tell what was wrong.

     “For saving me from myself back then.” Her fingers tightened around my other hand. “Even if it hurt.  Even if I didn't understand. And for making up for it tonight.”

     “Molls, if anyone should thank anyone for tonight, I should be thanking you. The party, your gift, everything.”

    She shook her head impatiently. “No, Harry. That was whatever. I wanted to do something sexy for you for your birthday, I just thought it would be something you’d enjoy –“

      “You weren’t wrong,” I interjected emphatically.

     “-But you made it feel so real. I didn’t expect you to remember everything. I mean that was easily the most mortifying night of my entire life. I remember every word you said like I’d had my Sight going when you said it. But…” She sighed, pursed her lips, clearly trying to decide how to articulate her thoughts. “I’ve played that conversation over and over again in my head. ‘Lesson one, this is never going to happen. Get that through your head right now’.”

     “Well, obviously I was wrong about that.” I kissed her head,  smoothing her hair back from her face.

     “I thought you were always right?” She teased. “No, I know.  You meant it at the time but things change.  Still,  there was some part of me that couldn't shake those words,  even now. Even after we've been together. Some part of me that was worried this was all a test or a dream or I don't know, something.” The tears that had been welling in her eyes started to fall freely,  running down her cheeks in rivulets, but she smiled.  “Now when I think back on that night,  I'll always think of this night as well. Of your skin against mine,  reassuring me that I'll always be yours and that you'll always be there.  Warm and fierce and alive.” She practically hurled herself against my chest and wrapped her arms around me. I wrapped one arm around her,  the other up and down her back,  soothing. 

      “I'm sorry Molly.  I don’t even know what to say. You're right,  things change. I'm here now,  and I always will be.” I licked my lips. “You're mine. And,  I'm also yours. Yours entirely. Come hell or high water.” Her fingers dug just a little tighter into my skin. It was hardly noticeable – with the piercings in, she wasn’t strong enough to leave bruises unless she was trying.  We sat like that for a long time. I just watched the fire dance,  lights and shadows flickering over the pale expanse of her back.  At some point, I felt her breathing slow as she fell asleep,  and I pulled the apprentice robes closer over her. I thought about carrying her up to bed, settling in beside her and falling asleep myself. I was exhausted enough for five men, having slept only in snatches for almost a week. 

      But it was Halloween night, the night when immortals come out to play, when power can be lost or gained.  The only night when an immortal, like a Lady of Winter or Summer, can be killed. Until the break of dawn, Molly was vulnerable and I wasn’t going to sleep until she was safe again. Although, I mused, with the steel piercings, I was willing to bet she was vulnerable either way. I’d have to have a talk with her in the morning. She didn’t need to do that. We’d find another way, one which didn’t cause her pain. Still, if enough iron could silence her…was there a way to get rid of her entirely?

      Of course, it wouldn’t be a good solution. Even if we somehow managed to remove the mantle from her, it would need to be passed on to someone else, a different vessel. I couldn’t justify inflicting this curse onto someone else, even if it meant saving Molly, and I doubted that she would be able to either. We couldn’t just destroy the power, both because I didn't think it was possible and because it would cause an imbalance of power between Winter and Summer, which would result in accelerated global warming. We could maybe talk with Sarissa, see if she also wanted to give up her power, that way there wouldn’t be an imbalance. But that still left us with the impossibility of destroying the power before it entered another vessel. Could they both just give up their powers and store them somewhere, hide them?  And how would they even do that?  I spent the rest of the wee hours of the morning pondering and weighing options. 

      I still wasn’t any closer to finding a solution when Molly started stirring. “Mm. Did I fall asleep?” She mumbled, her voice thick. I laughed lightly.

      “No, you just closed your eyes for,” I glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner “four and a half hours.” She made a noise of indignation and sat up, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

     “Why’re you still up? Lessgo bed.” She pulled lightly on one arm. I turned around to glance out the kitchen window. The sky was a very light purple, fading into blue. Birds would be up soon, if they weren’t already, signaling the start of the day. I waved a hand and muttered an incantation, snuffing out the fireplace. The candles had either gone out or burnt down completely. I pulled on my pentacle and infused it with enough will to light our way. She climbed into bed immediately but didn’t climb under the covers, she just lay there, a vision of perfect curves and glowing metal where her piercings caught the light. My breath caught in my throat for a moment as I stripped out of my pants. “Could you grab the bottle of peroxide and the little bowl that’s sitting on my desk?”

     I blinked, pulled away from thoughts about exactly what I’d like to do for the last few minutes of All Hallows Eve (and maybe the first hour or so of November) but obliged before climbing into bed next to her. “What is that for?”

     “The piercings. Once I take them off, I'll need to sterilize them before wearing them again.” She fidgeted with the one in her right ear, heaving a frustrated sigh. “I wore them too long, the skin started to burn to the posts. It's going to be a bitch to get these out.” She looked to me. “Do you mind taking them out?  It'll be like a band-aid, it's always easier if you have someone else rip it off.”

     “Uh, sure, if that’s what you want.” I steeled myself. Despite how it may seem, I’m really not a fan of inflicting pain on people, especially not women, especially not women that I’m in love with. But I can do what needs doing. I reached up with my thick, clumsy fingers and caressed her ear lobe before finding the piercing there. “Just start here?”

    “Yeah, that’ll work.” I nodded and started to pull the ring apart when she tensed and her hand came up to rest on my arm, stalling me. “Wait, Harry. I can’t…” She took a deep breath. “The victims of the killings all knew the same person. They…” Her mouth opened like she was trying to speak or cough, but no sound came out. She tried for a few seconds then slumped. “Sorry, I had to try. Okay, rip it out, let’s let her loose.”

    I wanted to ask more but her expression warned me off. I got the impression that she’d just given me more information than she was supposed to, maybe more than she would have otherwise been able to say without the steel embedded in her but I didn’t think I’d get anything more. She’d been compelled not to speak. And if I pushed too hard, I could cause damage to her already-fragile psyche. “Alright, hold still.” There was a sizzling noise as I pulled the piercing free and Molly huffed out a breath. There were bits of blackened flesh still clinging to it and I gagged.

      “It’s not that bad,” she chided. “Just drop it in here.” She’d filled the bowl with peroxide which also sizzled and foamed when I dropped the earring in.

      “Christ, Molly. You shouldn’t have worn these.” She hissed through her clenched teeth as I pulled out her eyebrow piercing and dropped it in the bowl with another plink, hissss. “It’s not worth it.”

      “It was definitely worth it.” She said fiercely, followed by swearing when her left earring pulled, not wanting to come out. I was worried I was going to take half of her ear lobe with it, but it eventually came free. The sweet scent of cooked meat, like bacon on the grill, lingered in the air. My mouth started salivating, heedless of the screaming in my mind, or the flip-flops that my stomach was doing. “Faster, please. The less iron, the stronger she gets and the stronger she gets the more the remaining ones burn.”

      Her voice was tightly controlled, but I knew her well enough to hear the urgency she was trying to hide and worked faster. By the time I got to the last piercing, there were tears in her eyes and her fists were clenched tight against the sheets, back bowed. I worked my fingers, trying to remove it as quickly as possible while still being as gentle as I could manage. When it finally came free she let loose a choked sound,  somewhere between a scream of pain and a cry of pleasure before slumping back in the sheets, panting heavily. “Thank you.”

      I set the bowl aside and went to the bathroom to wash my hands, feeling a bit like a surgeon. When I came back,  she looked more relaxed, though she was noticeably back to her Winter form, all harsh angles, and perfect grace. I made a point of kissing each and every one of the spots that she'd pierced with the steel as I crawled into bed next to her. I lingered a bit on a few choice locations, causing her to gasp each time, but ultimately we ended up just going to sleep. We’d both had a long week and nothing felt quite so good as drifting off with Molly safe and secure in my arms.

      Bum. The note echoed throughout the downstairs. “Okay, great. Now put them all together, ready?” Very slowly and falteringly, she went through the chords. Bah Bah Bah bum, Bah Bah bum, Bah Bah bum. It was way too slow, but unmistakably the opening riff to Don’t Fear the Reaper. I’d given Maggie several songs to choose from to start learning, with simple beats and chord progressions and she had done an old man proud by going for a classic. “Very good. Just a bit more practice to get you a little more comfortable with switching your fingers around and I think you’ll have mastered it.”

     “I’m still too slow.” Her face was screwed up in frustration as she moved her fingers through the notes without actually strumming. This had only been our third session and Maggie had shown considerable promise as a guitarist. She learned quickly and threw herself entirely into it with a firm dedication. But, as I was learning, she was not patient with herself. Progress was not enough. She wanted to be perfect, right away, and anything less than immediate perfection was unacceptable.

     “You’re still learning,” I said, ruffling her hair. “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

     “What does Rome have to do with my sucky guitar playing?”

    “I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t say sucky. And anyway, it’s an expression. It means you need to have patience, some things take time. This is one of those things.” I caught her eyes for just a moment and smiled at her, looking away before I could traumatize her forever with a soulgaze. “You are doing a great job. Instead of worrying about how far away you are from where you want to be, look at how far away you are from where you started. Last month you didn't know a single chord. Now you can go through your scales like that.” I snapped.

     “Did I hear someone playing Blue Oyster Cult in here?” Molly appeared in the doorway. She'd been out when Maggie arrived,  but I’d felt her come back through the wards about fifteen minutes ago.  She had her hair up in a messy bun on top of her head and was wearing a pair of tattered sweatpants and an old t-shirt from her high school P.E. uniform. I gave her a curious look but she just smiled.

     “I’m trying to play it,” Maggie said, glaring at her own fingers. “Daddy says I sound good, but I think he's just lying to make me feel better.”

      “You do sound good,” I protested, indignant.

      Molly struggled to keep a straight face. “What I heard sounded good to me. Would you play it again, so I can hear it from the beginning?”

     Maggie actually blushed. “If you really want me to. But I'm warning you I suck at it.”

     “You're definitely not allowed to say ‘suck’, right?” I glanced at Molly, but Maggie ignored me, situating herself to begin playing. She took a deep breath and played through the riff again. It was still too slow but much faster this time. “Keep going.” I encouraged her when she reached the end, and she started over. With each repetition, she got a little bit quicker until the fourth try when she was at just the right tempo.

    “All our times have come.” Molly started singing along and Maggie faltered for just a moment before continuing on, more determined than ever. “Here but now they’re gone.”

      “Seasons don’t fear the reaper, nor do the wind the sun or the rain.” I joined in. My voice wasn’t as melodic as Molly’s. I’d been dragged to enough church services with her family to know that she’d always had a lovely singing voice. The mantle took that to a new level, refining it into something crystalline and flawless. In comparison, my own rough singing, in my rumbling bass, was crude. But somehow I thought we blended together into something beautiful. Maggie started grinning fiercely, playing her heart out while we sang. It wasn’t perfect. She slowed down at points or placed her fingers just slightly off, producing a different note, but for only three weeks of practice, she was phenomenal. Unfortunately, we were interrupted halfway through the second verse by a knock at the door.

    “That was so awesome!” Molly declared as I stood up to answer. “Maggie, you’re like, a superstar, kid!” I smiled to myself, knowing how much that praise would mean to her. I took up my blasting rod from the umbrella stand just to be safe but wasn’t surprised when I found Alicia standing on the porch.

    “Hey, I came to grab Maggie. Mom says it’s almost dinner time. You guys are welcome to join if you want.”

    “I’ve already got plans and I think Molly’s working on stuff for tomorrow. Thanks though.” I replied, before turning back down the hall and raising my voice slightly. “Hey Maggs, time to go!”

     Alicia shook her head slightly. “I still can’t believe that mom agreed to let Molly cook Thanksgiving dinner. Have you ever eaten her cooking?”

     “It’s gotten better,” I said, defensively. “Most of what she makes is at least edible now. Sometimes it’s even good.”

     “Wow, high praise.” She gave me a sly look. “So, you’re living here now, eating her cooking, almost like you’re her boyfriend.”

    “What would you know about boyfriends?” Molly asked coming into the hall and grabbing Maggie’s coat from the closet. “You’re terminally single.”

     “Oh, 'cause you’ve got guys just lining up around the corner, right?” She retorted with a snort.

     Molly’s eyes flashed, and her tone went cold. “I could if I wanted to.”

    “Yeah, if you ever got over your crush on a certain someone long enough to notice other guys.” Alicia glanced at me pointedly, in case there'd been any doubt.

     “So, we'll see you guys around 5 tomorrow, right?” I interjected, not particularly wanting to see where this conversation went. Molly helped Maggie into her coat and gave her a big hug.  I knelt down to give her a hug and kissed her forehead as well.  “You did great today, munchkin. You should be very proud. I'm proud.” She hugged me just a little bit tighter. We all said our goodbyes and I watched from the front window until I saw them cross into the Carpenter’s front yard.

     “Oh, she left her guitar,” I remarked,  heading toward the sound of banging pots in the kitchen. “Should I take it over to her?”

    “No,  if you go over now they'll browbeat you into staying for dinner, and I need your help here.” Her tone was crisp and irritated,  as though she couldn't believe I would even ask. “She’ll just have to wait until tomorrow.”

    “Okaaay.” I watched in silence for a moment as Molly pulled out every single pot and pan she owned and set them on the counter. “What can I do to help?”

     “We still need to dust, scrub, sweep, mop and vacuum the entire house because it looks like a pigsty. We need to move some of your stuff into the spare room to make it look like you’re staying there. I need to prep the turkey and bake the pie. We need to find the stuff to set the table. Oh, we should find a table cloth, right? Who sets a table without a table cloth? And we’ll need to-“

      I kissed her soundly, lingering, one arm wrapped around the small of her back. Her words had been coming at a mile a minute and I could tell she was on the verge of a panic attack. I’d learned by now that this was something her mother always brought out in her. Even if Charity would just be stopping by briefly to drop the kids off for babysitting, she had to clean the entire downstairs and make cookies and make herself look presentable and find five other impossible tasks to worry over. I had once pointed out the irony here, since she spent her entire life up to this point going out of her way to make her mother upset and disappointed. She fixed me with a glare that would have made a lesser man melt into the floor and yelled at me for ten minutes straight to mind my own business. I figured it was entirely about context. Molly was okay with disappointing her parents when she was trying to, but it was different now. This was real.

    My kiss deepened, and I found my hands reaching lower, pulling her closer to me. Her hands, in turn, ran across my stomach and up my chest, her fingernails dragging lightly along my skin. I made a low groan and she giggled,  pushing me slightly away. “Hey, we don't have time for that.”

    “We’ll find time,” I assured her, lips tracing their way along her jaw to her neck. 

    “No, Harry, we have so much to do.” The irritation in her voice was doing nothing to hide her amusement. She playfully batted at my chest.

    “I’m something to do,” I assured her, teasing her collarbone with my teeth.

    “Been there, done that.” She retorted, in a breathy little gasp that she had to know only encouraged me. “Mmm. We’re never going to get everything done if we start this.”

     I yanked up her t-shirt and for all of her protests, she lifted her arms to help. “It’s fine. We’ll just tell your parents we were too busy having premarital sex in the kitchen to get to everything else. They’ll be so shocked, they won’t notice the state the rest of the house is in.” Despite her best efforts,  laughter bubbled out of her.

     “I don't think we'll need to go that far. They'll be shocked enough when we tell them we’re together.” For the hundredth time since Molly had come up with this plan,  I frowned, my brow furrowing.

      “Yeah, you're right about that.” I ran one hand through my hair. We had to tell her parents, of course. For starters, the longer we went without telling them, the greater the risk one of the Carpenters would stop by unannounced and catch us together or that Butters or Sanya would accidentally say something. Also, it felt wrong to have to lie about our relationship to anyone, most of all to Michael, who probably hadn’t told a single lie in his entire adult life. Most importantly, we were ridiculously deliriously happy with each other and we just didn’t want to have to hide that.

     But that didn’t make it less nerve-wracking to actually do it. We'd gone back and forth about it, whether to tell them individually or together, whether it would be better if just Molly told them, or just me, or each of us told one. I deferred to Molly who finally decided we should tell them together, both of us, and that we should do it at dinner. Charity was less likely to make a scene in front of the kids, she reasoned. But it made more sense to have them over to our house, since that way they could leave if they needed time to process, or they could take the kids home if tensions got too high, rather than having to ask us to leave (or having one of us storm out.) It made sense. 

     Still, I wasn’t relishing the reactions we'd get. I finally felt like part of the Carpenter family. I didn't want to lose that feeling, especially, ironically, over being in love with one of them. Michael would understand, I reasoned.  He probably already knew. He seemed to always know. Charity would be less understanding but eventually, I thought, she'd probably come around. Ultimately, they'd both be happy to see their daughter happy. They knew I wouldn’t take advantage of her or treat her poorly. Right?

     “Hey, are we going to do this or not?” Molly playfully cajoled, caressing my face before meeting my eyes, bringing me out of my worried head. “It's going to be fine. They love you. Don't worry so much.”

     “Pot to kettle.” I murmured, as she pressed herself against me, pushing me back against the counter. 

     “True, “ She quirked her lips in a sly little smile that went straight to my libido. “I guess we'll just have to find some way to distract ourselves from all this worry.” She kissed me fiercely, standing between my legs so that the length of her body collided with mine as she stretched out.

      “Did you have something in mind?” I asked mildly when we stopped for breath. “Maybe cleaning or-” She ground her hips against me and I groaned involuntarily.

     “I'm sure we’ll think of something.” She assured me.

Chapter Text

    Sometime later, after ensuring that we'd need to bleach basically every surface in the kitchen before cooking, we set about our household chores with a renewed vigor.  Molly steadfastly refused to let me help her cook anything, so I used my repertoire of cleaning spells combined with good old-fashioned elbow grease to take care of the rest of the house. Molly claimed I was cheating by using magic. I asked her how she'd gone from burning a bowl of cold cereal to being able to produce an entire Thanksgiving meal that wouldn't give her family food poisoning overnight and she confirmed my suspicions with a glare but dropped the subject.

     I moved my books and most of my clothes back to the downstairs bedroom. I really didn't think it would make a difference. Michael and Charity weren't stupid. They had to know two people who were in a relationship didn't live together if they weren't knocking boots. I understood not outright telling them but her insistence that we keep up this charade just seemed ridiculous. I had just finished putting my last shirt away when I heard Molly come through the door. I'd learned that she had the ability to move completely silently when she wanted to, but she made a point of doing her best not to sneak up on me. I thought that showed tremendous survival instincts for a woman who was willingly engaging in a relationship with me.

      “It looks nice.” She slid her arms around my waist from behind and planted a kiss on my shoulder. “They’ll never believe this. They were both over at your old apartment.”

     “Maybe I’ve gotten tidier in my old age.” I protested, turning around. “Or maybe all I needed was a woman to keep me in line.”

     She snorted, one beautiful eyebrow arched derisively. “Yeah, okay. Like there’s any woman on the planet that could keep you in line.” She gave the room a critical eye, then started pulling apart my neat rows of books and tossing them haphazardly around the room. She did the same thing with half of the clothes in the wardrobe, bunching them up, turning pant legs inside out. When she was done, she surveyed the damage. “That looks closer. Hold on.” She disappeared and came back a moment later with a couple of empty Coke cans from the recycling, setting one on the bedside table and crunching the other up and tossing it in a corner.

     “Oh, come on, I’m not that bad.” I protested again. But I had to admit that it did look much more like my bedroom when I was single and living alone than it had before. And I would have no trouble believing that the guy living in this room was not sleeping with anyone…ever.

      “Not presently, no.” She smiled sweetly. “Must be that woman’s touch you mentioned.” She brushed one thumb over my hip bone and my breath hitched.

      “Mm. Well, I find myself eager to please.” It came out as significantly more of a growl than I’d intended but that was fine. Her eyes sparkled.

     “Is that so?” She ran her hands up my sides. “Maybe I should touch you more. See what else I can make you eager to do.”

     “Only one way to find out.” I met her eyes, an open challenge, and before I knew it, she tossed – tossed, as in lifted off my feet and bodily-hurled – me on the bed. Some part of me was deeply unsettled and a smidge emasculated by that, but I didn’t have much time to dwell on it before she was on top of me, and she found out exactly how eager I was to please.

     I woke up the next morning, confused and uncomfortable but feeling deeply satisfied. One arm was asleep, and I realized it was hanging off the edge of the bed, as were both feet. I was laying on a diagonal, and a mostly naked Molly was sprawled across me, hair still half-up in her messy bun, her lean limbs tangled with my own, an ass like an oversized peach, perfect and supple, on display for the whole world to see. A sleepy smile crawled its way across my face, and I considered staying exactly where I was for the entire day, just watching her sleep on top of me. But alas, my body informed me that, now that I was awake, I was in urgent need of both putting circulation back into my arm and urinating. Also, a quick glance toward the window let me know that the sun was up, evident by the light peeking around the edge of the curtain, and I had no interest in sleeping in too late and having the Carpenters arrive to find us in this state.

      I knew it was futile, but I tried my best to work my way out from underneath of her without waking her up. I got about halfway free when she stirred just enough to grab ahold of me around the torso in a grip that took my breath away. That was definitely going to bruise. I tried to pry her off of me but was unsuccessful. Which was almost as concerning (and equally emasculating) as her tossing me into bed the night prior. “Molls. Hey.” I shoved against her a bit. “Wake up. Wizard needs oxygen.”

        Molly mumbled incoherently but released me to rub at her eyes. Not willing to take the chance if she decided to wrap me in her vice-like embrace again, I slipped out from under her and out of bed. “Mm. S’cold.” She complained. “Come back to bed.”

    “I’d love to, but we’ve got plans, remember?” I grabbed a robe from off the floor. She wasn’t kidding, it was definitely cold.

     “No plans. Just sleep.”

     “There is no Molly, only Zuul.” I intoned, admiring the sight of her stretched out on her stomach across the bed. After a second of indecision, I gave into temptation and ran one hand up the length of her leg, fingers caressing her inner thigh before settling in a small smack against one beautifully rounded cheek. She gasped and jerked, suddenly awake. “Come on, it's already after 10. Do you want to still be in my bed when your parents get here?”

     She groaned. “Call them and tell them we’re sick. Or dead. If we're dead, we never have to tell them.”

     “We live across the street. I think they might figure out that we’re lying. Also, you're immortal.”

     She rolled over onto her side and glared at me. “They don't know that. And if we tell them we’re dead and then run away together, they'll never have to find that out either. It’s a win-win situation.”

     “Except for your heartbroken parents. And my abandoned daughter. And Chicago in general.”

     “Why do you have to rain on my parade?” She stretched out, her body arching like a taut bowstring, breasts thrust out and eyes closed tightly for a moment.

     “Because you need to get up.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Because we need to put together something resembling a turkey dinner so that your  parents will be too doped up on tryptophan to murder me for corrupting you.”

      Molly snorted. “If anything, they'll probably accuse me of corrupting you. Mom has an outstanding talent for finding a way to blame me for anything and everything under the sun. And God forbid she approved of anything that brings me happiness.” She stood up and immediately cuddled up against me, huddling inside my robe so her skin was flush against mine, sharing my warmth.

     I frowned down at her. “I thought you two had been getting along?”

    She shrugged. “More or less, but it’s mostly that I’ve pretty much stopped caring what she thinks anymore so I don’t bother fighting her.”

     “I must have misheard you,” I said, feigning shock. “For a moment there it sounded like you said that you used to care what your mother thought about you. That can’t be right. I’m sure you told me on a number of occasions that you didn’t give a damn what she thought.”

     Molly smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I’m sure you were a reasonable, non-rebellious teenager who never said anything stupid.” I thought of my teenage years and repressed a shiver. Yeah, you could say I’d rebelled pretty hard. Hard enough to get slapped with the Doom of Damocles. But I knew she wasn’t thinking of that when she said it and tried not to let it show on my face.

     “Ebenezer would probably disagree with you.” Was all I said.

    “The point is, it’s different now. I know who I am, what I am. It makes no difference to me whether she approves or disapproves of me and my choices. I mean, hell, I’m Lady Molly of Winter, y’know? She’s just…” She stopped halfway through her sentence, as though her brain finally caught up with her mouth.

    “Just your mother?” I suggested. She looked at me guiltily, and I doubted that was what she’d been about to say but she nodded anyway. “Good, so then you’re not nervous about tonight?”

     She sharply exhaled with a little laugh. “I’m more nervous about tonight than about anything I’ve done in my entire life.” She cupped my face in both her hands, caressing me with the cool smoothness of her skin, delicate as a snowflake. “I don’t care what they think of me. But you’re my…my whole world, Harry. The only thing that’s ever been important enough to make me this nervous.”

     Unexpectedly there were tears in my eyes. Fuck. I didn’t need her to see this, to know what a weak, sentimental fool I am. But as I met her gaze, she didn’t seem surprised, just happy. She ran her thumbs gently under each eye, wiping them away. I cleared my throat but my voice still came out rough. “Thank you.”

    “For what, weirdo?” She teased, as though she hadn’t just bared her soul to me. As though she hadn’t given herself to me a thousand times over. As though she hadn’t always stood right beside me, supporting me with all she had and more.

     “For everything.” I brushed my lips over hers, tender and gentle. “For being my Molly. For loving me.”

    Whatever she’d expected me to say, it hadn’t been that. Her smile widened in surprise. “No thanks needed. Being yours, loving you? That’s the simplest thing in the world. Easier than breathing.” I pulled her tighter against me and she lay her head against my shoulder. The scent of her was intoxicating, and I found myself aching to stay just like that all day, wrapped around her, breathing her in.

     Then my body reminded me that I’d originally gotten out of bed because nature had called. And it was calling again, more urgently now that I was out from under the warm comfort of the blanket. With regret, I let her go, planting a quick kiss. “We should get dressed.” She groaned, but followed me out of the spare bedroom, careful to pick up her discarded clothes on the way out. It wouldn’t do to go through all the trouble of arranging my fake bedroom if we left her lacy bra thrown over the headboard of the bed.

      Molly refused to let me help her cook, much to my chagrin. True, I’d never cooked a full-on Thanksgiving feast before, but it wasn’t like I couldn’t cook. I had just never had much occasion to do so. Molly, on the other hand, had a history of creating culinary abominations. Her skills had improved lately, something which I was attributing to the newfound abilities and innate knowledge she gained from her mantle, but that still just brought her up to being a basically capable cook. And she was not prepared for the sheer volume of food that needed to be made to host Thanksgiving for the full Carpenter household. An hour into the process she was clearly overwhelmed, trying to do fifteen things at once, and combined with her already frazzled nerves, I suspected it was likely a matter of time before she set the whole place on fire.

     “Please let me do something,” I asked for the fifteenth time, pulling the few wispy strands of hair that had come out of her ponytail back from her face, tucking them behind her ear.

     “I’ve got this.” She said with more heat than I was used to in her voice. “I can handle one dinner.”

    “I’m sure you can, Molls, but that doesn’t mean you can’t use some help. I can chop vegetables or peel potatoes or I don’t know, whatever you need.”

    “I said, I’m fine!” She snarled, bringing her knife down hard enough on the celery she was chopping that she split the cutting board in two. She growled in frustration and hurled the knife into the sink with a clatter. It seemed like an inopportune moment to point out that between the angry snarl, the flour sprinkled haphazardly down the front of her, and the apron she had tied at her waist, she looked strikingly like her mother, so I kept my mouth shut. I must be getting smarter with age. “Aren’t men supposed to drink beer and watch football on Thanksgiving?”

    I shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve never had a real Thanksgiving until your parents started inviting me along. And I always just show up in time for the food. Plus, I don’t watch football.”

     She gave me a forced smile and between gritted teeth, in a falsely sweet tone said: “Then let’s start a new tradition, where you go find something else to do Thanksgiving day that keeps you out of my fucking kitchen while I’m cooking.”

    “Sheesh. Alright, don’t have to tell me twice. You just needed to say something.” Her entire body was tense, and her cheek was covered in a sheen of sweat, but I kissed it anyway. She looked heavenward, as though she was trying to summon the patience of a saint.

    “Harry, I love you, but I’ve got too much to do to have you underfoot. For the tenth time, no I don’t need help, please just leave me be. I’ll yell if I need you.”

    I kissed her again quickly and did as she asked, a bit bewildered. Can’t blame a guy for trying to help. I decided I’d spend the day tinkering in the lab, maybe make a few potions. Were there any potions to help with telling one of your dearest friends and his terrifying wife that you were involved romantically with their daughter? Glumly I thought an escape potion might be what I’d need most. I understood Molly’s nerves. I was nervous myself but doing my best to hide it for her. I tried to talk myself down. Michael had told me more than once that I was a good man. From him, that wasn’t just a meaningless platitude. He meant it. He’d asked me to protect and look after Molly throughout her life and trusted me with her. Why shouldn’t that trust extend to courtship? And Charity herself had said that she was glad I was living here, had recognized that Molly needed company. I’d also heard her all-too-casually grill Molly about her love life, all but outright asking her when she was going to settle down and give them grandkids.

      I felt an unexpected pang of grief, knowing that would never happen. I mean, it was for the best. Our lives were both too dangerous and complicated to add another child to the mix. Keeping Maggie safe was enough stress for me, thank you very much. But I’d seen Molly in our soulgaze, surrounded by a brood of blonde-haired children, looking proud and satisfied and happy in a way that I hadn’t ever seen her since. It hurt that she couldn’t have that. I found myself growing angry just thinking about it, railing at my own powerlessness to give her the life she deserved.

     So far, my research had all been fruitless. While there had been countless Winter Knights before me (all of them horrendous monsters, I’d noted, gripped with a cold fear) with a fairly clear trail of the men who’d held the title, there was little to no knowledge of the Ladies. While I couldn't tell you why, I felt confident that Maeve had not been the first Winter Lady, but I could find no record of anyone prior nor of how power had passed between them. I assumed the same way the power had passed to Molly, but who knew. Certainly not any of the scholars, wizards and other creatures that had written any of the texts I'd been pouring through, and certainly not me. 

      “Anything new,  Bonnie?” I asked, striding down the last few stairs, trying to keep my anger in check. Dwelling on my inadequacies wouldn’t accomplish anything positive. 

      “There are many new things every day, Harry.” She chirped pleasantly, glowing to life.

     “Have you learned any new information that might help Molly and I regarding our mantles?” I clarified.

     “Ah, then no. You're both still tied to your mantles until the event of your deaths.”

    “Assuming she ever lets me die,” I mumbled. “Okay,  thanks kiddo. Let me know if you learn anything that might be helpful in that regard.” I moved the pile of books that was sitting on my chair onto the already sizeable heap of books on the ground beside it and sat down. I buried my face in my hands, my elbows resting on my knees,  and willed myself to relax.

     “Your aura seems…weird. Is everything okay?” She flitted around me, oozing concern. It was touching, and I found myself smiling.

     “We're telling Michael and Charity tonight. Molly is freaking out and won't let me help with anything for dinner and I don't know what to do with myself in the meantime.” I looked up at the floating green orb. “This is big. I really don't know how they're going to react, and I don't blame them.  I mean, I wouldn't want Maggie to end up with someone like me, especially not someone fourteen years older than her.”

     “Wizards typically live to be several hundred years old. Why would 14 years make a difference?”

     “It does to vanilla mortals. Especially when one of the people involved is very young. Ten years ago, that fourteen year age difference made it immoral, not to mention illegal, for Molly and I to be together. It wasn’t the only thing that kept us apart, but it was definitely a major factor.”

    “But that was because she was still a child, correct?” I got the impression she was tilting her head sideways in confusion, despite the fact that she didn’t have a head as such and hadn’t moved. “Why should it matter now?”

     I sighed. “I guess it shouldn’t. But I’m worried they’ll think it’s been going on longer than it has, or that they’ll think I’m too old for her. And they won’t like that we’re living together but not married. She thinks they’ll believe us if we tell them we’re not sleeping together, but Michael always knows. And if he was disappointed in me for sleeping with Susan before marriage, I can’t imagine how he’ll react when it’s his daughter.”

    “If it has so much potential for failure, why tell them at all?”

     “Because they’re family. Just like you and me and Maggie. You shouldn’t keep secrets from family. Especially not when it’s something good, like being in love.” I caressed her gently, feeling the cool pressure of her. It reminded me of ruffling Maggie’s hair.

      Bonnie seemed to consider my words for a moment. “Is Molly family?”

     “Of course,” I answered immediately. “Since we’re in a relationship, she’s part of our family. Don’t you remember our conversation about family? People we love and who love us. People who will stand with you, who Show Up when you need them, remember?”

    “I remember every conversation I’ve ever had with anyone.” She blinked in agreement. “But you and Molly keep secrets from each other. There are things I’m not supposed to discuss with her.”

     “That’s…true. You’re right.” I ran a hand over my face, trying to think of how to best explain. “But that’s different. It’s not that I don’t want Molly to know some of the things we discuss, it’s that I don’t want the Winter Lady to know. Because she won’t like it.”

    “But Molly is the Winter Lady, isn’t she?” Bonnie sounded a heartbeat away from screeching ‘does not compute!’

     “Yes. She is. And that’s why we keep secrets from her sometimes. Once we find a way to get rid of her mantle, we won't need to keep secrets from her anymore.” I hoped. 

     There was a pregnant silence before she quietly asked: “Will she also stop keeping secrets?”

      I frowned. “Does she ask you to keep secrets from me?”

    “No, she keeps them secret from me too.”

     “Then how do you know she's keeping secrets?”

     “It’s the way she talks.  The way she looks when she's talking. I think that the words that come out of her mouth sometimes surprise her like they weren't what she meant to say. Don't you think?”

     I wanted to deny it, but I couldn't. I’d thought the same thing, frequently. Especially after her disappearance last month, when she'd been unable to tell me about the murders. I mean, I knew for a fact that she was hiding things from me – a lot of things, judging by how frequently she was out of town and how seldom she was willing and able to discuss what she did or where she’d been. And yeah, if I was being honest, it bothered me. But there wasn’t anything we could do about it. “Yeah, you’ve got a good eye for details, kid. And hopefully, yes. Once she’s no longer the Winter Lady we won’t have secrets between us, either of us.”

     “That will be nice. I hope we find a way to fix her soon.” It was such a simple, hopeful statement. It still sounded strange to me, to hear that voice filled with wonder, hope, and love. She sounded just like Lash but at the same time so different. Her voice, my spirit. It was a distant pain, like an old bone that had once been broken and didn’t heal quite right so it still ached now and again on cold, rainy days.

     “Me too, Bonnie.” I rasped out the words, thinking of my daughters, and how I’d failed them both. I’d allowed both of their mothers to sacrifice themselves. If I'd been faster,  smarter,  better…no,  I had enough on my mind without reviewing all of my past mistakes. I shook my head slightly. “I think it's a good time to brew up some potions. Where's my recipe book?”

       I really hadn’t intended to make any potions for the dinner. I had been mostly joking with myself when I suggested it. Potions were just something that took up time and focus without suffering too many consequences if your concentration faltered for a moment. A good way to kill time if you were anxious. But as I flipped through my list of potions, copied down from Bob’s suggestions and with my own notes on the efficacy of each, I found one that caught my eye: a potion of confidence. 

      I'd made it shortly after I became a Warden. They were sending me in to teach new recruits and I was terrified. I had no idea what to do, what to say, how to lead these kids. I'm not a speechmaker. Hell, I was still reeling from the fact that they made me a Warden. My nerves were getting the best of me, which in turn made me angry, and (as Bob politely pointed out to me) I expressed it by being ‘a bit of a dick’ to everyone around me. So we made a batch of this potion.

     It was not good for combat. I’d guessed that before taking it and had, unfortunately, had to put it to the test unexpectedly on my way to my new recruits. Too much confidence in combat will get you killed way faster than healthy paranoia. But it was great for social situations. It was like an instant charisma boost. Suddenly, I wasn’t worried about saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, and as luck would have it, when I stopped worrying about it, it stopped happening. Every action felt smoother, with the knowledge that whatever I was doing,  I would do my best at it and that would be more than enough. 

      I ran through the pros and cons in my head and decided it was worth a shot. I didn't expect to be engaging in combat tonight, and if the situation somehow devolved to the point where someone did start throwing punches, I certainly wasn’t planning on doing anything but putting up my shield. I really didn't think it would come to that, but Charity had slugged me in the jaw the last time she'd thought I was sleeping with her daughter. And I’d do better as a calm and confident wizard with a charming smile than the awkward, uncomfortable, nervous, sweating man-child I was currently.

     Bonnie hovered just over my shoulder the entire time I worked. She was still learning about the potion-making process, I'd discovered. It was based too much on the individual and on emotion for her to entirely understand what made an ingredient work. She didn't have Bob’s centuries of experience with people. I had to improvise on some of the ingredients since my old lab had burned down with all the contents inside. I dumped a bottle of Mac’s ale (what, you don't keep beer in your lab?) in as the base for my liquid courage. For sound, I dumped in trumpets playing triumphant fanfare. For smell, a rather strong cologne that I would never actually wear, but which smelled sharp and masculine. Mouthwash went in for taste, and I conjured just the tiniest bit of soulfire for sight. A rather nice silk tie (another item I'd never wear) was shredded and dropped in for touch. I had to rummage around a bit before I found what I needed for mind – several pages from one of those motivational self-help books about how to be a better you in five easy steps. One of many books in a box that I only use for reagents.

      Spirit was a hard one to replace. Before, we'd used a bullet casing. Back in a time when a gun made me feel safer,  more confident. I had since developed some different associations with bullets,  and I wasn’t sure it would work the same way still. After a moment’s consideration, I found the note Molly had written me, saying that she loved me, and crumpled it up, putting it in. If anything gave me spiritual confidence, that would do it.  Now it was just a matter of letting it stew until it was ready.

     “While we’re waiting, did you ever find a link between those killings from last month? Molly said they all knew the same person, and I think it was important, but Marcone’s files don’t show a record of anyone in common but him.”

    “Oh, yes!” She glowed a shade brighter, obviously excited. “Marcone only had records for the past thirty years.  But I talked to Bob –“

    “What did I tell you about talking to him? He's a bad influence!”

    “Waldo was there with him. You said I wasn’t allowed to talk to him alone.”

    “I meant without me there.”

    “Then you should have said what you meant.” She said it simply, no trace of anger or sarcasm. I sighed. I’d have to be more careful with how I worded things with her. She continued like I hadn’t interrupted her. “I talked to Bob and he talked to his contacts and he said I should tell you that you’re not going to like what he found.”

    “And what did he find?” I was trying to be patient but finding it hard.

    “He said before I tell you I should tell you that it’s probably a coincidence. Then he said you’re paranoid and you’ll read too much into it and he told me not to tell you that part but since we’re family I thought you should know.”

     “I appreciate that sweetie, but what did he find out?”

    “The only other person that all of the victims prominently associated with besides Baron Marcone was Margaret LeFay.” If I wasn’t already sitting, I’d have collapsed. My mind immediately started racing at a million miles a minute, my heart hammering away in my chest. Margaret LeFay. What did this have to do with her? She’d been dead for forty years – complications from the birth of yours truly, helped along by a jilted lover’s entropy curse. What could she possibly have to do with this? Molly had all but confirmed that she'd been at the scene of these crimes on Mab’s orders. Why would Mab want a bunch of my mother's associates dead? And why now? And why not order me to do it? She had to know I’d hear about mysterious deaths, especially when a few took place on this side of the Nevernever. If it was unrelated to either me or my mother, then why keep me out of the loop? Not to mention, hadn’t Dougal brought up my mother then said he hadn’t known her? What did she…

     My potion started boiling over and I quickly removed it from the heat source. It went into two plastic sports bottles and each got slapped with a label reading “Charisma +10”. Molly insisted any potions left in the lab were to be labeled.  It was already something I usually did anyway after my first date with Susan when she'd nearly killed us both trying to jump my bones in the middle of a fight with a demon. But Molly had demanded it, which is always the surest way to get me to be contrary, so I'd give her labels, but I made no promises that they wouldn't be silly.

    “Harry, are you busy?” Still lost in thoughts of my mother and strange murders, I almost knocked over both bottles at the sound of Molly’s voice. She had called down from the top of the stairs. 

     “Just wrapping up a batch of potions. What's up?”

    “I have to step out for a few minutes. Maybe an hour.” I could tell she was not pleased. “Can you watch the food for me, make sure nothing burns?”

     “Uh,  yeah. I'll be up in just a moment.” I made sure all flames were out, and then after a moment’s indecision,  chugged an entire bottle. This was a slow burn. It should last anywhere from 3-5 hours normally. Plenty of time to make it through dinner. It felt like the first drink of whiskey, burning its way down my throat and infusing every limb and digit with a pleasant heat. It felt like I should be glowing. I turned my head to look at Bonnie and felt a swell of pride come over me. I made her. That was my daughter. She was unlike anything the world had ever seen,  filled with immense knowledge and I had helped create her. 

     “Does it work as intended?” She asked.

     “You bet it does. Thanks for the help and the information,  kiddo. You're the best!” She glowed a brilliant green, almost blinding at my praise and my heart soared. Good, she should be proud. I came up the stairs two at a time, caught Molly in a tight embrace and swirled her around once before kissing her passionately. “I was an idiot not to fall for you sooner.”

     “Ooookaaay.” Her face contained equal parts confusion,  concern and amusement. “I have to go. I’ll be back as soon as I can. She said it shouldn't be more than an hour at most.” I kissed her again, still not letting go. “I’ve been sort of dodging Her calls all day. I shouldn't keep Her waiting longer.”

    “Let Her wait. What's an hour, or a day. You’re both immortal.” I kissed her again.  “For now.”

    Her concern only deepened as she frowned at me. I could see pain in her eyes, regret, and I kissed her forehead gently to try to ease it away. “I have to go.” She repeated. “Like it or not, it's my job.”

     “Take a vacation day.”

    “Oh, like you know what a vacation day is,” she snorted. She’d already changed into her work clothes, I noted. White jeans practically painted on her and a navy-blue suit jacket,  perfectly fitted, over a white button-down that she'd only buttoned up the minimum possible number of buttons on.  As it was, the fabric strained to keep her from popping out.

      “I’d quit working entirely if it would make you happy.” I kissed along her neck, felt her quiver in my arms. “I’d do anything for you.”

    “Enough, Harry.” She laughed, pushing me firmly away. “The sooner I leave, the sooner I return. I need to go,  and you need to go make sure that turkey doesn’t burn before you have to worry about two angry, hostile Carpenter women tonight instead of just one.”

     I gave her my best smile and smoothed back her hair. “Don't worry Molly, everything is going to go just right. We’ll be fine.”

     She looked bewildered but had relaxed quite a bit. “You sounded just like my dad, for a minute there.”

     “That's because I have faith in you and in us. Everything is going to work itself out in the end. We’ll weather any storm,  together, and come out the other side stronger for it. We can-“

    “Okay, okay, “ She cut me off, just as I had really started to build momentum. “I don't know what you're hopped up on right now, but we'll talk about it later. I have to go. Try not to burn the house down while I'm out.” She kissed me, first on my lips then, standing on her tiptoes, on my brow. “I love you.”

    “I love you too!” I replied, and just like that she was gone,  stepped through a portal to the Nevernever that closed up behind her.

    I looked at the time as I stepped into the kitchen. We had just about two hours until the rest of the family was supposed to arrive. Molly had done a great job so far, I thought, like everything else she did. God, what an amazing woman. She had been through so much in such a short life – more than I’d been through by her age, even, though the parallels were striking– but she still shone so brightly.

     I tasted everything as I went along, adding spices here or there. There was something soothing about cooking, especially knowing that I was cooking for family. This was a meal that would be presented in our home, that we made together. It wasn’t going to be perfect, but it didn’t have to be. We weren’t perfect. This meal would be just like us.

     Distantly, some part of my brain noted that this was the potion talking and that I wasn’t really like this. The rest of me told that part to shut up. Shouldn’t I be like this? After everything I’d survived, everything I’d overcome. No matter how dark things got, I always managed, with the help of friends and family, to persevere. Also, we needed more pie.

Chapter Text

     It was almost an hour and fifteen on the dot when Molly came home. I felt her the moment she crossed over, then a second later I heard the shower running. She was quick, like usual unless we were in there together, and came gliding into the kitchen within ten minutes or so. “It smells amazing in this house. What have you been up to?” She looked around the kitchen curiously.

    “We needed more pie,” I said by way of explanation, bending over the oven.

    “I see. So you made…” She counted “Three more?”

    “Yes. And cookies.” I gestured to the pan I’d just removed. “In case anyone doesn’t eat pie.”

    Molly’s look was 75% amused, 25% ‘what the fuck’. “That’s very…thoughtful of you.” She came up behind me, wiggling her arms around my waist and stealing one of the cookies off the spatula as I transferred them from sheet to plate. “Ommmph. Oh my god. Harry. This cookie.”

     “Good?” I asked with a laugh. I knew it was.

    “Mmmm. How long have you been hiding this from me? When did you learn to bake?” She tried to grab another but I swatted her hand with the spatula.

    “I have a lot of skills that might surprise you,” I said, my voice suddenly gravely and rough as I turned to look at her. “Baking is just one of many talents.”

    A wicked grin flashed across her face as she hooked her fingers in my belt loops,  pulling me against her. “Don't I know it.”

    “You’re in a better mood,” I observed, taking her ass firmly in both hands. She’d changed her shirt to a thick black sweater with a cowled neck but left the jeans, to my immense pleasure.

    “You have that effect on me.” Our lips met, long and slow, and I found myself aching for more when I felt the jolt of a steel tongue ring.

    “You’re the first person to ever say that.” I smiled wryly. “The piercings, again?”

   She flushed. “Not all of them. I don’t want to overwhelm the parental units, have them think I’m still in some kind of post-teenage rebellion. But in the event I’m asked a direct question, I’d like to be able to answer it. And maybe give a less than perfectly honest answer, if need be?”

    “We don’t need to lie to your parents about anything,” I told her calmly, running my fingers over the line of piercings along her right ear. The spark of them felt strangely erotic, and from the little shiver she gave and her quickened breathing, I knew Molly felt the same.

    “We have been over this.” She ran her hands up my back, gently kneading my shoulders and the associated muscle groups. “We cannot tell my parents we’re sleeping together. They’re Catholic. Very Catholic. Like, the most Catholic you can be without being the Pope.”

     “I don’t think the Pope is very Catholic, actually. Too much opulence.” I cupped her face and stared into her eyes. “Seriously Molls, don’t worry so much. The worst they’ll do is be unhappy about it for a while. Trust me, everything will go well. We’ll all be a happy family. You’ll see.”

    “There you go with the ‘have faith’ speech again.” She eyed me suspiciously. “What's gotten into you?”

     “I'm much more interested in what could get into you,” I smirked, and she smacked me lightly on the shoulder. “Okay,  I made a confidence potion this morning. I've found it to be extremely effective.”

     “Oh great, you're doped up. We're going to tell my parents we’re dating, and you're high.”

    “I'm not drugged. I’m still within my right frame of mind,  I'm just less nervous.” I kissed the corners of her frown until she finally sighed. I surprised myself by adding. “I was really worried about tonight,  and when I get worried or scared my mouth has a tendency to say things that are even dumber than usual. I just didn't want to mess this up.”

     “Stupid jerk,” She said fondly, smiling at me with a ‘what am I going to do with you?’ look.

    “There's another bottle downstairs if you want it.”

    “I'll pass. That stuff seems to lower your inhibitions and I uh, well I need my inhibitions to keep some of the, er, louder whispers from my mantle in check.”     

      “Even with the piercings in? What whispers still get through?” She flushed and glanced away.

      “Oh, the urge to rip your clothes off, throw you down and ride you right here on the kitchen floor until I've had my fill of you.” Even through the potion, my mantle reared its ugly head at that, rippling waves of lust coursing through me.  Act first. It said. Take her before she takes you. I growled low in my throat, an inhuman, purely instinctive noise and reached for her. Molly took a step back, anticipating. “Yes, a lot like that. It's Winter’s nature,  you know. We're all like that.  And I’m afraid of what I'll do if I let down my guard.”

     “I'm not.” I met her eyes in challenge, passion blazing forth. I took a step toward her. Her look grew steely.

     “You should be. All of your power is nothing compared to the tiniest sliver of what my mantle grants me and if I gave it free rein, I think I would break you in a heartbeat.” It wasn’t a threat (even if my beast kept screaming that it was) just a statement of fact. A distant part of me registered the pain on her face, the pure terror her admission had caused. She was on the verge of tears. Comfort her the small voice said before hastily adding with something other than your penis.

     “There's only one way to find out.” You. Idiot.

     Her breath caught, and her eyes widened a bit, surprise mingled with arousal. “N-no. Harry, let this go. I'll hurt you. Bad.”

      “Good.” A voice barely recognizable as my own, rich and melodic, rolled the word out over my tongue. “I've been longing for a good…fight.” The little voice in my head was screaming at me.  Hells bells, she wasn't talking about love bites and spanking, and I knew that.  But still, I wanted it.  I wanted to let our mantles run wild and fight for dominance. I wanted blood and fire and skin and teeth. And I knew with a terrible certainty that while my mantle was in agreement,  this didn't come from Winter. It wasn't some side-effect of the potion, though I certainly would have never given voice to it without it. This came from me. 

     Molly was struck speechless, staring slack-jawed at me. Her breathing was labored, her expression pained, and her eyes were dilated before she closed them tightly. “L – let’s h-have this conversation later. When you're not drunk on swagger potion, and my family and Maggie aren't set to arrive any minute.”

     I glanced at the clock. Ah, right. The Carpenters would be here soon, along with my daughter. Best not to start anything sexually explicit,  particularly something dangerous.  But later….”You're right. Now is not the time. But we will talk about it later.”

     She swallowed, her throat bobbing and nodded. “Later. For now, let's get the table set.”

    I brought out plate after bowl after plate of food, filling the long table. Molly carefully laid out napkins, cutlery, and glasses for everyone. It might have been the potion, but I felt a warmth spreading over me. Here I was, preparing the table with the woman I loved, in a house we shared, for a Thanksgiving dinner with family. It was totally new to me. It felt…normal.

     Satisfied that everything was arranged to her liking Molly stepped back and admired her work before turning a critical eye to me. “Are you going to get changed?” I looked down. I was covered in flour and other cooking debris, and the clothes hadn’t exactly been my finest before the mess.

      “What’s wrong with these?” l tried to keep a straight face, but she laughed anyway.

    Molly had just finished buttoning the cuff on my shirt when there was a knock at the door. Her eyes darted to me, panicked, and I kissed her softly. “Go let them in. Relax. Everything will be fine.”

     She nodded hesitantly, as though unsure of whether or not she believed me. “Right. I’m just telling my parents I’m in love with you, my former teacher, the wizard who lives with me. And that you love me back. What could go wrong?”

     “Nothing compared to what we’ve been through. It’ll be okay.” I took both of her hands in mine, smoothing over the knuckles before kissing each. “I love you, Molly Carpenter.”

    “I love you too, Harry Dresden.” We shared a kiss, too quick, then she dashed to the door as someone knocked again. There was a mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door (not a bad place, all things considered, if you were going to have a mirror) and I took a moment to make sure I looked as good as I felt. I had opted for a white button-down dress shirt and was pleased to see that it accentuated the thick muscles of my arms and back. I’d always hated wearing formal dress clothes when I was younger and scrawnier but now I thought it looked oddly appropriate. I had drawn the line at slacks, instead wearing my usual jeans. My mother’s pentacle with the ruby glued to it rested in the center of my chest, just to the right of my heart. I touched it briefly, watched it glow in the mirror, and then took a deep breath and headed out to greet our guests.

     I've had worse nights. For instance, three years prior I’d, among other things, made a Faustian deal for power, convinced the mother of my child to become a monster, killed her, gave my daughter up for adoption and then been shot and sort of died. Thanksgiving was comparatively not as bad. But it was hard to keep that perspective.

     “Harry,” Michael hailed me as I entered the dining room. Molly was still taking coats from the younger guests and everyone was getting settled in. “You look good. Are you going somewhere else tonight?”

    “No, I just thought,” I shrugged “It’s a special occasion. I should wear special attire.”

    “You clean up well, Dresden.” Charity said, approving. Thankfully, the potion kept the blush I would normally have exhibited from displaying. She had said it in the exact same tone as Molly had on our first date, and I noted with a mixture of amusement, pleasure, and discomfort that she gave me a muted version of the same look of appraisal.

    “I did the best I could with the resources at my disposal.”

    “You look just like a prince!” Maggie declared, half-tackling me with her hug. Fortunately, years of Mister had prepared me and I stayed standing.

    “A prince?” I asked. “I don't think so.  I'm pretty sure they're supposed to be young and handsome.”

     “Miss Molly, don't you think so?” Molly went completely, unnaturally still for half a heartbeat before forcing a smile and a laugh.

     “I don't know about that, Squirt. I think he looks more like a Knight.” Charity made a choking noise that I'm fairly sure was to cover a laugh. Michael looked uncomfortable. Alicia grinned. The rest of the brood ignored us. “Anyway, I’m starving. Who's ready to eat?”

       There were rumbles of assent from around the table and we all sat down. Michael and I had a bit of an argument over who would sit at the head of the table. He thought I should since it was my residence. I thought he should because he was the undisputed patriarch of the clan and no one would ever refer to me as ‘the head of the house.’ I also knew it would be easier for him to lean his cane nearby and get up and down, but I didn't say that. Eventually, Molly joined me, and he relented.  Charity sat to his left, and  I sat to his right, with Molly beside me.

     We had debated whether it would be better to be closer or farther away but eventually decided closer was better. That way if shouting broke out, at least we wouldn’t be shouting over the children’s heads. Molly grabbed my hand under the table the moment we sat down and squeezed it tight. Her palm was sweaty and clammy, feeling impossibly hot against my own cool skin. I squeezed it back, then rubbed one hand reassuringly back and forth across her thigh. It seemed to calm her a little, but she was still wound up tighter than a watch spring.

      “Michael,” I heard myself saying. “Would you like to say grace before we begin?” He was almost as surprised as I was. I mean,  I knew he'd have stopped us if we'd started without saying grace, but normally I did it anyway. Me and the White God might be on the same side of the fence, but we weren't part of the same team. I didn't go to his services unless Michael dragged me. I didn't follow his rules unless they fit with my own moral code. I didn't pray to him or ask for his blessings. And I didn't suggest that anyone else should do so. Yet here we were. 

     “I'd be happy to. Dear Father, on today of all days, let us give thanks for the bounties that you have provided. Thank you for the abundance of food that we are about to eat. May it nourish us well so that we can go out and do your will. And thank you for the blessing of family, both blood and otherwise, that we can all be together today, healthy and happy. May you keep us safe in the year to come. Thanks be to God. Amen.”

    “Amen.” I echoed. Sure, at its core concept I disagreed with everything he just said. I didn’t think our family was a blessing from capital – G God. I think it was the result of hard work, sacrifice, and seeing things through. We had worked to build this life, Michael and I, Molly and Charity too. Even the kids had helped from time to time. And people who weren't here – Murphy, Thomas, Sanya and Butters, the list went on. But I could agree with the general sentiment.

     I could remember sitting in a hospital, wondering if Michael would pull through. I could remember storming Arctis Tor (before I was part of its Court) with Charity beside me, hoping to keep her safe and hoping beyond hope that we'd find Molly alive and well. I remembered Alicia kidnapped by a mad-man,  wrapped in explosives, Maggie on a sacrificial altar, the strange sensation of a bullet ripping through my chest, knocking me off the boat. There were a lot of things that could have prevented us from all being here, together. Yet here we were. 

      Everything was passed around and plates were loaded up with turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, four different vegetables, cranberry sauce, rolls, sweet potatoes – every Thanksgiving-y item you could think of was there. Molly took care not to leave anything out. We ate in a mostly companionable silence,  with the exception of the giant ball of tension that was my girlfriend. So far, Molly had pushed her peas back and forth with her fork and drawn lines in her mashed potatoes but hadn't actually eaten anything.             

      “Everything is really good,  Molly!” Hank said when he was halfway through his plate. Everyone nodded their agreement.

     “Yeah, where’d you buy it from?” Alicia asked

     “I made it myself,  Leech,” Molly told her, with a bit more heat than usual.

     “Oh. Did you magic it up? Is that how you managed to make it edible?”

     “Alicia.” Charity’s tone was a promise,  not a threat. Turning back to her eldest daughter she added, “It is very good, Molly.”

    “Oh. T-thank you. I didn’t ‘magic’ it up. But I did have help.” She looked at me with a smile. Our eyes met, and I returned it briefly.

    “I didn’t magic it up either. You can’t just conjure up food.” I informed Alicia with a wink.

    “I didn't know you cooked, Harry.” Charity sounded far too shocked. Did everyone think I just lived off of fast-food and take-out from Mac’s? I mean, I mostly did but still.

     “Molly did most of the work. I just added some finishing touches.” I nudged her with a playful elbow and her smile deepened. “But I can cook when necessary. I’ve been single for most of my life. I’ve learned to feed myself.”

    “I’ve seen what you feed yourself.” Michael’s disapproval was clear. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you need to find a wife.”

      “Well-“ I started to tell him that I’d at least found a girlfriend and funny enough, she’s right here, and we hadn’t talked marriage yet but…but Molly cut me off.

   “He’s also an amazing baker! He made like, five pies in an hour and these spice cookies that are just, insane.” She looked around. “Where did you put the cookies, Harry?”

     “They’re out in the kitchen with the other desserts. Don’t you think you should eat your dinner first, though?” I glanced down the table and said in a lower voice “Little eyes are watching.”

     “I must have gone insane. I thought I just heard Harry Dresden lecture me on being a bad influence.” She teased. I gave her an indulgent smile but looked pointedly at her plate, and she sighed and started eating.

    I looked back up to find Charity staring at me with narrowed eyes. Even with the confidence potion still bubbling its warm way through my veins, I struggled not to visibly gulp. She looked back and forth between us, and I knew she at least suspected the truth if she didn’t know for certain. She opened her mouth to say something when a chill ran through the room. I immediately looked to Molly, her eyes wide and nervous. It was not coming from her. The small part of my head that existed underneath the potion’s effects was screaming at me that danger was afoot, to take everyone to the panic room and hide.

     “Please do forgive me for dropping by unannounced.” An all-too-familiar voice, hauntingly melodic, painfully beautiful, said from the previously empty seat at the far end of the table. “You have not been answering my calls.” Mab, Queen of Air and Darkness, Monarch of the Winter Court, one of the most terrifying creatures to ever walk the face of this planet, and my and Molly’s boss, sat in our dining room. She was capable of elaborate glamours which would make her appear as a normal human. I’d seen her use them on more than one occasion. She would also frequently dress in normal human attire, to blend in better. She had elected for none of that today. Today her hair was up in an elaborate bun, a coronet fitted around it, and she wore a black gown that would have looked perfectly at home on any Disney villain. Molly’s fear was a palpable thing, and I understood why – Mab only wore black when she sat in judgment.

     “We’re finishing up our Thanksgiving dinner,” I said lightly, my voice tight, controlled. “Could this wait until we’re done?”

     “Insolent whelp.” Her black eyes flashed. “Do you think I care what your schedule is?” Her voice was like hail on a metal roof, stabbing into my ears.

     “Hey guys, why don't you go on into the living room,” Molly said, just the slightest tremor to belie her calm,  friendly tone. “We're going to see to our guest here and then we'll all have dessert, okay?” The Carpenter children didn’t need to be told twice. When strange things happened, they knew to listen and not ask questions. Alicia herded the rest ahead of her, hurrying them along.

      Maggie,  however, was not a Carpenter. She stood from the table with the rest of the kids but stopped next to Mab and looked up at her. Her mouth was a hard line, her dark eyes fiery. She stood proud, back straight, shoulders back, her hands clenched into fists at her side, not an ounce of fear to be found. “Excuse me.”

    My stomach lurched and I was on my feet, hurtling around the table in the blink of an eye. “Maggie, go into the living room. Now.”

    My daughter firmly ignored me, staring at the Winter Queen with undisguised fury. Ever so slowly, Mab turned her head down to look at the little girl, one eyebrow arched in amusement. “Yes, child?” Her tone was gentler than I’d ever heard it. My heart was hammering so hard the veins in my neck were twitching as I clamped my hands firmly on Maggie’s shoulders.

      I should have put them over her mouth. “You shouldn’t talk to people like that.” She said in a clipped, hostile little voice. God, she was so tiny. How could she even pack that much aggression into a simple statement? Genetics, I guess. “Especially not when you’re a guest in their home.”

    I hauled her around to look at me, pulling her closer in the process. “MARGARET. LIVING ROOM. NOW.” My voice cracked like thunder in the small room, and Maggie Dresden, who had shown nothing but defiance in the face of Queen Mab herself, the portrait of evil incarnate, looked like someone had slapped her. I’d never yelled at her before. I’d never had a reason. My heart broke at the fear and hurt I saw in her eyes, but I couldn’t address it now. I just gave her a light shove in the direction of a very wide-eyed Alicia.

     “Oh, she is quite right though. I have forgotten my manners. Thank you…Margaret.” She looked directly at me as my daughter’s name rolled off her tongue, drifting over her lips like a seductive whisper. Molly closed the doors into the living room behind the kids, leaving the two of us, her parents, and the Unseelie Queen. “She’s rather like her namesake, isn’t she, Dresden?”

    “I wouldn’t know, Milady.” It hadn’t been what I’d intended to say, but apparently the adrenaline rush hadn’t completely burned off all of my potion like I’d expected it to. “I imagine you’re in a better position to know than I am.”

     “Hmm. Yes, I suppose so. Still, I like her.” She laughed, a deep throaty noise that had no warmth or happiness in it. “Passionate. Willful. A bit foolish, perhaps. It seems to go with the name. Do you disagree?” She turned to glance at Molly.

    “I’ll agree that we see eye to eye on many things, us Margarets.” Molly snarled, her eyes flashing dangerously. She’d removed her piercings at some point in the confusion, at least the visible ones, and it showed, her eyes a bit too light, her face a bit too angular.

     “Molly.” Michael’s voice was soft, but commanding. He stood his ground at the end of the table. His grip was steady on his cane, though his stance said he wasn’t holding it for support.  “Mind your tongue. This creature is not to be taken lightly.”

    Mab’s frozen berry lips curled into a malevolent grin as she realized that Michael didn’t know. “Your father is wise. Perhaps you should take his advice more often in the future.”

     “What are you doing here?” Molly retorted, not backing down in any way. I could feel her starting to gather power, subconsciously. It pooled around her clenched fists, invisible currents of energy.

    “I tried to summon my servant to Court for a matter of grave importance, only to find our communication had been cut off. I came to ensure that nothing tragic had happened.”

    “Harry. Is that true?” Michael asked.

     Before I could answer, Mab folded her hands on the table before her and said simply “You know who I am, White Knight. You know I cannot lie.” Her shit-eating grin displayed a mouth full of sharp teeth.

    “Of all of the foolish things you’ve done to endanger my family, Dresden,” Charity growled. “This is too much. Just give her what she wants so we can get on with our night, please.”

     “Oh, but I did not call for my Knight. I am here for the Winter Lady.”

     “The Winter Lady?” Charity asked, confused “Why would she…” Michael laid a hand on his wife’s arm. Whether it was to draw her attention or to steady himself, I couldn’t have told you. Possibly both. His eyes drifted across the room and Charity followed, and the two saw their daughter as if for the first time. I couldn’t do anything but watch as they took in the too-white skin, her sharp, jutting cheekbones, and washed-out hair. Her fists were covered in a thin layer of frost, and there was ice forming on her bare feet, neither of which she seemed to notice.

  “Moll-“ Charity’s voice cracked on her daughter’s name, staring at the creature she’d become. Michael wrapped one arm around her, pulling her close.

    “Momma, I’m sorry, I-“ The power dispersed almost immediately like she’d had the magical breath knocked out of her. She started toward her parents, her eyes still fever-bright and inhumanly pale.

    “My patience grows thin.” Mab stepped in front of her. “Your presence is needed at Arctis Tor. Now!” As she spoke the last word, a sound like boulders grinding against each other as they tumbled down a mountainside, the two disappeared into a ripple in reality.

     The only sound in the room for a long moment was that of Charity’s soft sobs, her face buried in Michael’s chest. He held her to him, saying nothing, staring at the spot where Molly had just been.

    “I’m sorry.” The words were out of my mouth before I knew I was going to speak. They seemed woefully inadequate.

    “When?” Was all Michael said. Just a simple, calm question, as though this had been an average day for him.

    “A little over two years ago. She was there when we took down Maeve. She was the closest suitable vessel and…I’m sorry.”

    “I knew it.” Charity turned her red-rimmed eyes to me, full of fury. “You’ve been dragging her into danger since she was just a child, I knew that one of these days you were going to get her killed or worse. Michael told me to trust you but look at where it’s gotten us.”

     “That’s not fair, darling. Harry has always wanted what’s best for her. You know as well as either of us that you can’t keep Molly from doing something she wants to do.” Michael’s reasonable tone hurt worse than Charity’s accusation.

    “You’re both right. I tried to keep her off the island, away from danger, but she wouldn’t listen. Still, it was my responsibility to keep her safe. My godmother had been shaping her for years without my knowledge, preparing her for this. I should have noticed sooner, should have been better, faster. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t enough to keep her safe and I can’t ever forgive myself for what’s happened. I don’t expect you to either. Just know that I’m truly sorry and I’m doing everything in my power to find a way to fix it.”

    “I’m sure you did everything you could, Harry.” Again, Michael’s voice pierced me like a dart. I wanted him to scream, to rage. Anything but his kind-hearted acceptance. “I’m sure you’ll do everything you can.”

     “I didn’t see it.” Charity said in a quiet, broken voice. “My baby has become that thing and I didn’t even notice.”

    “Don’t beat yourself up about it,” I assured her, thankful for the potion’s effects to keep my voice steady. “Most of the time when she’s around you she uses a glamour to make herself look less Wintery. It’s very subtle magic, the kind she’s always been good at. Even with my own abilities and the knowledge of her power, I still don’t notice it half the time. But she does it so that she doesn’t upset you or the kids.” It was hard to see the pain on her face. Call me old-fashioned but I can’t stand to see a woman hurt. “She’s definitely changed in more ways than you can count but she’s still our Molly. She’s still got the same sarcastic, mocking sense of humor. She still wants to curl up on the couch and watch old sci-fi shows when she has a moment of free time. She still loves her siblings and the two of you with all her heart. In all the ways that really matter, she’s still herself.”

    “For now,” Michael said. It wasn’t a question, but I caught his eye and nodded anyway.

     I might have said something reassuring, made a promise of how I’d never let her go, how we’d find a way to stop her transformation, but before I could decide how to respond, Molly half-stepped, half-stumbled out of thin air, and I rushed to meet her. I caught her in both arms, steadying her and without thinking, I brushed her hair back, examining a gash that ran across the side of her face “Molls, what happened? Are you okay? Are-“

     Standing there, with both her parents openly staring at us while I held her in my arms, she stretched up on her toes and kissed me hard and fierce, like she was afraid I might disappear. I returned it with fervor, stopping short of inserting my tongue, mindful of our audience. She pulled away, ignoring Michael and Charity and looked up at me. “She knows. She sent me to bring you back. She wants to address us both.”

     I nodded again. I’d expected that. Mab was many things but she wasn’t stupid. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, a calm settling over me. I looked to the Carpenters. “This is not how I wanted you to find out about any of this,” I said apologetically. “We have to go. But I’ll try to make it as brief as possible, and when we come back, if you’re still here, we’d love to discuss everything with you. If you need some time before you’re ready to talk, we’ll understand that as well.” I kissed the top of Molly’s head and noted with clinical detachment that Michael’s jaw tensed and his nostrils flared as I did so but he said nothing. “Aparturum.” I swiped my hand down and created a hole in the middle of reality, large enough for Molly and I to step through into the Nevernever. As soon as we were through I willed it closed and looked around.

Chapter Text

    We were in a lavish sitting room, all of the furniture made of dark woods and the deep, plush sofas were upholstered in vibrant blue. The floor was covered in a luxuriously soft carpet, thick enough to sink your toes in, that was a creamy-beige. The walls were painted a dark purple with black pinstripes running down it, and dim, recessed lighting shone down along it, giving the room a cozy, intimate feel despite the gothic design choices. “Where are we?”

    “My rooms, in Arctis Tor. It’s more convenient to have them meet up like this. The throne room is right around the corner.” She embraced me tightly. “Harry, I don’t know what’s going to happen. She’s...be careful. I think I pushed her too far this time.”

     “Everything will be fine,” I told her, certain that it was the truth despite having no logical reason to believe it. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle this. Take me to her.”

     She led me out of her rooms, through a series of winding corridors. I tried to memorize the path, in case we needed to beat a hasty retreat. As we walked into the throne room, she tried to let go of the hand she’d been holding, but I grabbed on and held tightly. “She already knows. There’s no sense hiding it.”

    “There’s no sense flaunting it either.” She whispered but didn’t fight me. The throne room was completely empty save for the beautiful monster sitting in her icy throne. I strode out calmly, as though I was there of my own volition, and Molly hastened to keep up with my long legs. When I reached the center of the room, I turned on one heel to face Mab, and then dropped to one knee, kneeling before her. I waited until she acknowledged me with a short nod before speaking.

    “Your majesty. I believe you summoned me?”

     “So courteous.” She purred. “Rise. Come closer, both of you.” I did as she commanded, my back straight and head high. I felt Molly respond to my confidence, felt her stand a little straighter, a little less frightened. “Do you know why I have called you here, Sir Knight?”

     “I can’t be sure until I’ve heard it from your lips. But I assume it’s regarding my relationship with Lady Molly, my Queen.”

    Mab’s eyes bored into me like lasers but still, I stood my ground. “It is indeed.” She leaned forward to look at us both and the sheer force of her power made my knees weak. “Did you think you could keep secrets from me? That I do not know where you are and what you are doing at all times?” I was blown back by her words, as if in a gale. It took everything I had to stay standing. “You are both MINE. You share no secrets that I do not know about.” She appeared suddenly beside us and started walking in a slow circle. “You leave marks upon each other. She arrives in my Court day after day reeking of your scent. Even now, you are tracking my movements in relation to her, ensuring that you can defend her if needed.” She wasn't wrong. The next thing I knew she'd disappeared and reappeared again, this time several feet behind me, with her hand around Molly’s throat.  “You forget your place. Both of you.”

     “Take your hand off of her.” I snarled, gathering my will.

     “Or what, Sir Knight?” She laughed and Molly wheezed as she tightened her grip. “We are here at the heart of my power. I could unmake you in the time it takes you to draw your next breath.” She paused to consider it. “I wouldn't, of course. You've seen what I do to those who conspire against me.”

    “I've done nothing to conspire against you.” I looked pointedly at her skeletal fingers wrapped around my girlfriend’s pale throat. “Although the night is young.”

     “Threaten me again, and I will visit such torments upon you that every second of the rest of your existence will feel like its own eternity.”

    “Is this conversation the start? Because it feels like we’ve been here forever.”

     “Think very carefully about how you proceed. Think of what befell the last Knight and Lady who sought to keep secrets and threaten my power.” I did. I truly did.  And I felt a pang of sympathy for a moment, thinking of what it must be like for her, to know that her two best pawns were both only begrudgingly loyal to her and were intensely loyal to each other.  Still...

     “I wasn’t aware that romantic involvement was a threat to your power.” I sneered, sarcastic. The image of Lloyd Slate, utterly broken and begging me for death, flashed before my eyes but it didn't tame the fire in my belly. Mab stared me down for a long moment, saying nothing before finally releasing the girl.

   “Harry,” Molly croaked. “Please. Just shut the fuck up.” She came to stand near me. “Please excuse his insolence. You know he's an idiot, especially where women are concerned.”

    “I don't need you to make apologies for me!” I snapped.

     “Harry. I will compel you if I have to. Shut. Up.” Her eyes were hard to look at, a harsh silver-blue, like moonlight on fresh snow. It wasn’t an idle threat, I knew, and I felt like I was going to be sick. But I also saw the pleading in her gaze. She didn’t want to do it. She only would if she had to. And she felt that if I kept talking, she would have to. Keep your mouth shut. Just roll with it. I heard her voice clear as day in my head and tried not to register my surprise. I didn’t like it, but I obeyed. She turned back to Mab. “I’m so sorry, your Majesty. I try to keep him in line, but you know how he can be.”

       “I know how you both can be,” Mab replied coolly.

      “That’s…fair. But I can assure you, I didn’t mean any harm in our sport. I could not find anything in our Law or otherwise that forbade it. And while I know Maeve was far from an ideal role model (no offense intended) I’ve come to learn that she had...entanglements…with multiple Knights and never suffered for it.”

    “Never at my hand, no. But she also never kept her affairs a secret. On the contrary, she flaunted them. She was never afraid of me.” Mab mused. “I thought you were a wiser Queen, yet here I find you keeping secrets. If you didn’t find any wrongdoing in your actions, then why not admit to it? Why not tell me right away?”

    “I…” A blush crept up Molly’s cheeks. “My lady, you know how hard I’ve been struggling since I came into my power. I’ve been more careful ever since…since Alaska. But, I mean, it’s not a secret that I’ve wanted Harry, well, since before I would have known what to do with him if he’d said yes, quite frankly. And when he came over late one night I couldn't resist. I... I was embarrassed. I thought you’d think I was weak for giving in to my more…human desires.” I almost believed her. Not her words, those were all true or she’d never have been able to say them. But her tone, her act.

    Mab laughed delightedly, eating it up. “I wondered how long it would take you to figure it out. I thought it would be at least a few decades before you would be able to convince him to act on it though.”

     “His willpower isn’t quite so prodigious once his pants are around his ankles,” Molly said slyly, leering at me.

     “And what do you have to say about it, Sir Dresden?” Mab turned her amused gaze to me.

    “I like to think that what I lack in willpower, I make up for in enthusiasm.” That drew another laugh.

    “Fine. I have no quarrel against this tryst of yours,  however ill-conceived it may be. But remember your stations, both of you. You are both part of my Court now.  You are beholden first and foremost to me. Do not think to put each other above your duties. If I even suspect that you have allowed this to interfere in your responsibilities or if I find you are hiding things from me in the future…” She did her teleportation trick again and was back on the throne, all business. “You are MY Lady. MY Knight. Neither of you is the first. You can both be replaced with minimal time and effort if you fail to serve your Queen and our Court properly. Am I understood?”

   “Yes, My Queen,” Molly replied, then elbowed me in the ribs, hard.

   “Ah, yes. We get it.”

   “Good. I would so hate to waste more of my time securing new vessels for you.” She waved her hand. “You are both dismissed. Send the White Knight and his woman my regards.”

    “Wait, one moment,” I said. Molly had turned to leave, taking my hand, and when I started talking she tried to pull me along but I pulled free. “You haven’t talked to me in months. No missions, no orders. Why?”

     “Are you saying you want to serve me more, Dresden?” Mab folded her hands in her lap and cocked her head.

    “No, but, I don’t think Molly does either. Still, she’s off almost every day doing something or other, and then she comes home and can’t talk about the blood on her clothes or the bruises she’s sporting. Why not send me with her?”

     “Part of our agreement was that I would not force you to do anything to violate your ethical code.” She said simply.

     “But it’s okay to send Molly to do the same?”

     “I have no such agreement with her.” Mab retorted. “And she is no longer mortal. She is not as short-sighted as your kind. Her values have always been more fluid than yours, now especially.”

    “Harry,” Molly tugged my arm. “Can you not? Let’s just go.”

    “Sure, in just a second. Look, I know Molly’s capable but I promised her parents that I’d keep her safe. I’m not saying I want to tag along for everything but if it’s something dangerous,” I shrugged. “I’d rather come along  for the ride than sit at home waiting for her.”

   She drummed the fingers of one hand against the arm of her throne, her fingernails clicking into the ice. “Fine. I thought it would be best if I left you to your own devices unless a situation arose that required your attention but if you want to be more involved of your own volition…you can accompany the Lady on any Court business that she sees fit, provided I do not specify otherwise. If you’re accompanying her in an official capacity, you will defer to her judgment in all matters. You will not interfere with her business, even if you find it distasteful, and you will not discuss it with anyone other than myself and each other. Are these terms agreeable to you, Sir Knight?”  

    I thought over her words carefully before responding. “Yes. I agree to the terms.”

    “And Lady Molly? Do you agree?”

    “It’s my choice whether or not he comes with me on any assignment?” She asked, thinking it over.

     “Correct. And if you accept his assistance, he will be your subordinate, bound to put your will before his own.”

    “Ugh. You’re such an idiot, Harry. Sure. Fine. I agree to the terms. Can we please go now? Or do you need to push this envelope a little more?”

    I thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, one more thing. Don't show up at our house unannounced again. If you can't get ahold of Molly, you can give me the telepathic phone call. Or use an actual phone to make an actual phone call. We have a phone. But if you come near my daughter again,  I'll–” I couldn't breathe over the pain, sudden and intense. I was cold to my bones, which creaked and ached like they might spontaneously snap. It felt like every cell in my body was on fire. If I could have screamed I would have. There was no room for thought, for comprehension. Meaningless sounds echoed around me and the room spun.

     An eternity later, it stopped just as suddenly as it had started. I found myself on all fours on the cold floor of the throne room. It was a convenient position since I violently upended the contents of my stomach almost immediately. I wiped my mouth on the sleeve of my shirt, and after a moment of confusion when I saw blood, I realized my nose and consequently, the lower half of my face was crusted over in it. I blinked tears out of my eyes, rocking back to sit on my heels, and slowly the noise I was hearing resolved itself into voices.

     “–no use to you dead!” Molly was hysterical. Her voice was too shrill and it hurt my ears.

    “Peace, child. He is fine. Tell her, Sir Dresden.”

    “Mmhmm. Mm’fine.” I mumbled. I tried to get up but decided, nope, the ground was the place for me for a bit. My mouth tasted like blood and vomit. My head spun.

    “Good. Then listen and understand.” The timbre of her voice made the ground shake. Or maybe that was just me shaking? Either way, the words carried a solemnity to them, and my foggy brain cleared up enough to remember that a Queen of Faerie was sitting before me on her throne, clad for judgment. “You both gravely mistake the nature of our relationship. Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do. I do not have time for mortal games, for your petulance or idle threats. I fight for the very existence of our reality. Do you forget that?” She ramped up to a fever pitch, her eyes wild. “Your lives do not matter. We serve a greater purpose. I have been patient. I have been lenient. You have been keeping secrets and still, I relented. You completely cut off communication, completely ignore my summons, and still, I relented. You waste my time, and come into my home and threaten me. Still, I relented. I am not going to have this conversation with either of you ever again. We are not friends. I am not your mentor, parent, or even your adversary. I am your Queen. You will respect that and you will follow my commands, or I will replace you like those that have come before you. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

   “Yes’mm.” I managed to choke out. Molly said something too quiet to hear, but it must have been assent since Mab nodded her approval.

    “Then get out of my sight, both of you, before I lose my temper.”

    “Yes, ma’am.” Molly hurried over to me, offering a hand, and when that didn’t help, basically picking me up. She set me on my feet, then draped one of my arms over her shoulders, wrapping her own around my back. My entire body trembled violently and I found myself weeping and unable to stop as we moved. “Just a little bit further. Hold on. Okay.” She guided me down to a sitting position on one of the plush blue sofas we’d seen earlier. I heard the sound of a faucet running from somewhere behind me, and when she returned she was pressing a glass of lukewarm water into my hand. “That’s the best I can do until we get back home. I don’t have a whole lot on hand here.”

      I tried to smile at her but my face felt wrong. “Th-thank y-y-you.”

    “Christ. What the hell did she do to you?” She knelt in front of me, checking my vitals.

     “I don’t know. It was…I’ve never experienced pain like that. Ever. And I don’t ever want to again.” I gulped down the water greedily. It didn’t do much, but it helped steady me a bit. “Some of this is the after-effects of the potion too, I think. Like that crash after an adrenaline rush?”

     “You have got to be the dumbest person on the face of this planet, you know?” Satisfied that I was still alive and not in imminent danger of that changing, she set about cleaning me up with a warm washcloth. Apparently, in addition to vomit and a bloody nose, there had been blood trickling out of my ears too. Never a good sign when that happens. “I’m going to leave you here for a moment to go home and see if everyone is still there. If so, I’ll send them home and then come back to get you, okay?”

     “No, Molly, we can’t just send your parents home. We need to talk about everything.”

     “Yes. And we will do that. Later. But it’s been a rough day and–” I awkwardly crooked one arm around her shoulders, pushing her towards me until I could kiss her face in the general vicinity of her lips. She took pity on me and moved into a better position so that I could hit my target.

    “I’ll be alright. It’s not my first time on the ass end of an ass-whooping. It won’t be my last.” I told her, managing a real smile this time.

    “If you ever behave as stupid and recklessly as you did tonight, I'll see to it personally. You are dumping the second half of that potion down the drain when we get home.”

    “That’s probably for the best.” I looked down at my bloodstained shirt. “What are the odds that we’re close to my lair?”

    “Uuuhhh. It’s possible. I don't know where your ‘lair’ is.”

    “Right. And you don’t happen to keep spare men's clothes in your room?”

    “Since you’re the first guy I've brought into my quarters since I got here? No, not really any call for it. Oh, wait, hold on, I'll be right back.” She disappeared through an ornate door on the opposite side of the room that I assumed (correctly) was the bedroom and came back out a moment later with a t-shirt in hand. I was surprised to find that it was actually an old Batman shirt of mine. I hadn’t seen it in months. “I um. I keep it here so I can...I snuggle with it when I have to spend the night here.”

    I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. I hastily removed the ruined button-down and slid into the t-shirt when a thought occurred to me. “I haven’t seen this shirt in months.”

    “R-right. I’ve had it here.” She looked away but didn’t succeed in hiding her flaming cheeks.

    “But I haven’t seen it since before I moved out of Karrin’s house. In July.”

    “Yeaaaah. I’ve um. I’ve had it here?”

   Despite everything, I started grinning. “So you were snuggling up with my t-shirt for months before we started dating?”

    “Yes.” She agreed, quickly. “Just for a matter of months. I mean, it would be really creepy if I’d been periodically stealing t-shirts and sleeping with them for years before we were dating because they smell like you, and then sneaking them back into your dirty clothes once they lost that smell.”

     I wasn’t surprised  but it still made me laugh to picture it. “It would have been creepy, but now that we’re together it’s just romantic.”

    “Oh good.” She took a deep breath. “Alright, are you ready to go home?”

    “As ready as I’m going to get.” I stood, and I felt like our kiss and conversation had left me more invigorated, or at least steadier. I still felt tired, aching, and every bit my age but the worst of the shaking was gone and I was able to stand and walk with only minimal support.

    “You’re sure you don’t want me to go first and send my parents home?”

    “No, we owe them this conversation. The longer we put it off, the worse it’ll be.”

     “Okay, here we go.” She opened a rift and we both stepped through, back into our dining room.

     The grandfather clock told me it had only been about twenty minutes since our departure. Time worked differently in a lot of the Nevernever, and apparently, Arctis Tor, or at least Molly’s rooms there, must have run slower than our time, as by my estimation we were gone for at least an hour. Plus however long I’d been writhing in pain on the floor.

    The dining room was empty and the lights had been turned off, but it looked like the table had been cleared and we could hear the sound of running water from the kitchen. “Mom,” Molly said, managing to sound both relieved and stricken at the same time. She looked at me.

    “Go on in. Talk to her. I'll check on the kids.” I headed for the living room, where I could see the soft glow of the lamp under the door.

     Michael sat in the wingback chair, his cane still resting in one hand and my daughter curled up on his lap. It was just the two of them. He was telling her a story in his soft, gentle voice, recounting one of our exploits from bygone days, and his free hand absently stroked her dark hair. My heart ached, looking at the tender moment that passed between them. Shouldn't I be the one telling her stories, sitting by the fireplace in my chair and holding her? Instead, I’d put her in a position to insult the Winter Queen, then almost gotten myself killed doing the same. I stood leaning in the doorway, just watching them. “...And the city was safe again.” Michael finished. His eyes drifted up to mine. “Isn’t that right, Harry?” I couldn’t help but notice that he hadn’t relaxed his grip on his cane. Maggie squealed and jumped down off of him. I caught her before she could slam into me (which would probably have knocked me over at that moment) and held her close.

    “Sure. We all lived happily ever after.” I looked around. “Everyone else?”

   “Home. We thought they’d had enough excitement for one night. But someone refused to leave until we knew you got back safely.”

    “Is that so?” I looked down at the girl in question. “What have I told you about listening to Mr. And Mrs. Carpenter?”

    “I know, but–” She started to explain.

   “No.” The word cracked like a whip and I saw her flinch, which in turn made me wince. I sighed, exhausted, and tried again, kneeling down so we were eye-level. “No. No buts. Listen, I know what it’s like, okay? You’re a smart kid, and you think you know better. Adults just don’t get it, right? Why follow rules if they don't make sense? Why listen if there's no harm in doing what you want instead?” Maggie stared at her feet then hesitantly nodded. “Here’s the thing. Rules exist for a reason. Even if you don't understand what that reason is right now. If me, or Mr. and Mrs. Carpenter, or Molly tells you to do something, I need you to trust that we might know something that you don't and listen.”

    She thought about that for a moment. “What about other people? Do I have to trust them too?”

    “Most of them. Your teachers. Uncle Thomas. Ms. Murphy. How about this – anyone that Mouse doesn’t bark or growl at, yes, you should listen to them when they tell you to do something and follow their rules.”

   She groaned and I covered my mouth with one hand to hide my smile. “Okay, if you say so.”

   “Thank you. And…” I hesitated,  not wanting to scare her but not wanting to leave it unaddressed.  “If you ever see that lady who was here earlier–”

    “Head straight for the panic room. Mister Carpenter already told me.” I glanced at him and nodded. 

   “That's exactly right.” I ruffled her hair and she giggled. “Now, Mister Carpenter and I need to have a private conversation, just the two of us. Why don’t you grab your guitar and go practice for a while? If you want, go down to the basement and ask Bonnie if she wants to help you. You know how to open the door?” She nodded. “Okay. Don’t go down the stairs, but you can open the door and call for her, okay?”

    “Does Bonnie know how to play the guitar? She doesn’t even have fingers!”

   “Bonnie’s mom is the one who taught me how to play so well.” My smile didn’t quite meet my eyes, but Maggie didn’t notice. I kissed the top of her head and stood up, knees creaking as I did. “Why don’t you go find out what she knows?”

    “Are you sure it's a good idea for her to spend time with that…thing?” Michael asked quietly as we watched her disappear through the basement door. 

    “That thing is also my daughter, Michael.” I didn't have the energy to express anger, only a world-weary disappointment.

   “With a fallen angel.”

   “With the shadow of a fallen angel who saved my life. Maggie’s mother was a half-vampire. My mother gave me a sidhe godmother and was a bigger pariah to the White Council than I could ever hope to be. We're a complicated family.”

    “And where does my daughter fit into that picture?” I looked at him finally and found him staring at me,  as though sizing me up.

    “Let's sit down.” I was uncomfortable under the weight of his gaze, but we sat across from each other, he in the wingback, me on the couch. “Michael, look, I…I don’t even know where to start.”

    “Let’s start at the beginning then. How long have you two been…involved?” His words were clipped, precise, with a hard edge.

    “Just about two months.”

    “Which includes your birthday party a month ago. When you didn't say a word about it.”

    “Molly wanted to wait until the right time to tell you.” It sounded feeble even to me.  Sure it was the truth but…

   “The right time.” He nodded, giving me a gimlet eye. “Is that what you were waiting for all along, Harry?  The right time to get your hands on my little girl, to seduce her?”

    “I–what?–Listen–”

    “All those nights she was at your apartment, just the two of you, until the early hours of the morning.” I flinched involuntarily when he moved, leaning closer to me. “Were any of those nights the ‘right time’?”

   “Stars and stones Michael, give me some credit. I swear to you this is something recent. I would never take advantage of a child, you have to believe that.”

   He stared at me for a long time, and I could see the conflict in his face. He wanted to believe me. Until tonight he would have laughed at the mere suggestion that I'd be capable of something like that. But I'd lied and kept secrets. And he'd watched me kissing his daughter. Who I lived with. Finally, he said, “Is it because she's the Winter Lady?”

    I blinked. “What?”

    He shrugged. “Are you bound in some way because of your positions? Are you compelled to…?”

    I laughed.  I couldn't help it. “Uh, no. Until today the Queen didn't know about this either and uh, well, she wasn’t exactly thrilled about it. If anything us being together has just made me more determined to find a way to get rid of Molly’s mantle.”

   “Her mantle?”

   “The power that makes her the Winter Lady.”

   “Can that be done?”

   “Well, so far everything says no. But I’m not willing to accept that as an answer. I’ve been researching some possible solutions. No good leads yet but...” I shrugged.

    Michael nodded. “Is she…is she okay?”

    “Honestly, yeah. I think she’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her. And not just because of, well, us. Being part of Winter is…complicated. We don’t – can’t – talk about work much and I’m sure she has to do things that neither one of us would condone, but at the same time…she’s making a difference. She’s fighting for the survival of our whole world.” I hadn’t thought about it until I started speaking but I realized with a start that it was true. “She’s been more confident, sure of herself. It has its downsides, definitely, but, yeah, she’s okay for now.”

    “But she’s not human, is she?”

    I might have lied or sugarcoated it for anyone else, but Michael deserved to know the truth. “No. Not entirely. She’s fighting it but it’s part of the mantle. Eventually, if we don’t stop it, she’ll become entirely sidhe.”

   He bowed his head, a silent prayer on his lips, before looking back up at me. “What can I do?”

   “Just keep doing what you’ve been doing her entire life. Give her your love and support. Don’t treat her differently. Try not to agitate her or get her upset, it makes it harder to keep control. Be careful not to make any deals or promises, she is one of the fae, but otherwise, just treat her like you always have. If I come up with anything else,  I'll let you know.”

    Michael sighed. “Life is certainly full of surprises. I never would have expected…any of this. Anything else you'd like to tell me, while you're sharing secrets?”

    “Yeah, just one thing.” I toyed absently with my pentacle before looking Michael in the eyes.  “I know it's not, well, I'm not…what you would want for your daughter. The whole situation is weird as he–” I caught myself “–ck. But you should know, I love Molly. I'm in love with her.”

   “Oh.” His surprise was evident. There was a pause before he asked, “Have you told her that?”

   “Yes.” I smiled. “Frequently. I find it hard to stop saying it.”

    He needed another thoughtful pause to process that. “And does she feel the same way?”

    “Yeah.”

    He nodded, then cleared his throat. “And have you…” He hesitated, either unwilling or unable to ask the question. Here we go, I thought. I really didn’t want to lie to Michael again. I didn’t want to give him any cause to not trust me. But Molly had been very insistent about not telling him that we were sleeping together and from the pained look on his face, I knew it was what he was trying to ask.

    “Stars, Michael, do you really want to have this conversation?”

    “No.” He admitted, whole-heartedly. “Least of all with you. But she’s my little girl. Just you wait until the boys come sniffing around for Maggie.”

    “That’s impossible. Maggie isn’t allowed to date until 10 years after I’m dead.”

    That got a wry smile from Michael. “Of course. And I said Molly wasn’t allowed to wear makeup or kiss anyone until she was at least 40 and married. How well is that working out?”

    “Listen, Molly and I…” What was I going to say? “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted. Living together…it makes it hard to resist. I respect your daughter and I respect you, but I don’t want to make you a promise if I don’t know for sure I can keep it.” I felt sleazy, tiptoeing around the truth, but at least I didn’t need to outright lie.

    “That’s not what I wanted to hear, but I can appreciate your honesty,” Michael said with a sigh.

    “For what it’s worth, we haven’t discussed it yet and I don’t know how she feels about it, but when I look at Molly, I see a future, in a way that I never have before. Man, I see her walking down the aisle. A house with a white picket fence and 2.5 kids playing in the yard.” I scared myself, admitting it out loud. “I know it’s too soon for all of that. She’s probably too young to want to settle down right now anyway. And as things stand now, there’s a lot that would prevent that. But…I want what you have Michael. I want that life for myself and I want it for Molly. She deserves a life of happiness and I want to be the man to give it to her.”

     “Sounds serious,” Michael said solemnly. I grunted. “I never thought I’d live to see the day when Harry Dresden finally settled down.” His smile was like the break of dawn, radiant and warm, soothing my aching soul. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. My world turned upside down when I fell in love with Charity, and Molly is nothing if not her mother’s daughter.” He settled himself on his cane, preparing to stand. “Speaking of, I haven’t heard a single raised voice coming from the kitchen. That’s either good news, or one of them killed the other. Let’s go see which it is.”

     I stood, hovering nearby to help if he needed it, but not wanting to offend him by offering needlessly. He managed on his own but surprised me by gathering me up in a big bear hug. “You’re a good man, Harry. You deserve a lifetime of happiness too. I pray that you and Molly can build that life, together.” I hugged him back as tight as I dared, and did my best to blink away my tears.

Chapter Text

     No one had been killed in the kitchen, as it turns out. We found the two Carpenter women had migrated to the dining room and were laughing together while drinking coffee and eating cookies. It was an unusual sight for the two of them in general, and doubly-so considering Molly had been lying to her mother both about her love life and her job, and Charity was not the sort of woman to take kindly to being lied to.

    “I take it you two have worked things out?” I said lightly, leaning in the doorway. Michael stood slightly behind me, surveying the scene.

    “You know I had half a mind to skin you alive, Dresden.” Charity said, eyes narrowing at the sight of me. Molly just grinned a goofy smile my way, and I saw Charity’s mouth twitch as well when she glanced sideways at her. “But Molly says you’re not half-bad as a boyfriend, so I’ve decided I’ll let it go, if and only if, you’ll give me the recipe for these cookies.”

    “Hmm. Well, it’s a secret family recipe.” I made a show of thinking about it.

    “Then I guess it’s a good thing we’re all family,” Molly said, and I winked at her.

    “I really don’t think they’re that good. Your expectations are just low. But I’ll get you the recipe. Small price to pay for your blessing.”

    “My blessing.” Charity snorted, pushing away from the table. “Molly has always done what she wanted, whether I let her or not. It’s certainly not going to change now. You two didn’t need our blessing.”

    “What can I say, I’m an old-fashioned guy.” I shrugged. “I feel better knowing you’re okay with this.”

    She came over to join Michael and I. “I don’t know if I can say we’re okay with it. It...I still need time to process the thought of you two. But it’s not the biggest shock I’ve had today. Goodness knows she’s pined after you long enough. And I guess she could do worse.” Charity wrapped me in her own embrace. “If you hurt her, I will make you regret it.”

    I didn’t think she was joking. “I wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am.”

   “Ma’am,” She scoffed, turning to her husband and kissing him. “I’m exhausted and Harry looks like death warmed over. Let’s go home. Where’s Maggie?”

   “She’s downstairs, but why don’t you leave her here, for the night?” I looked to Molly “If that's okay with you?” Molly shrugged, indifferent, and I looked back to Charity and Michael. “I was going to ask if it would be alright to take her out tomorrow for her birthday anyway unless you had plans?”

   “Harry. She’s your daughter. You don’t have to ask for our permission to spend time with her. We don’t have any plans that are more important than having her father in her life.” Charity smiled. “I’ll send Mouse over with pajamas and a change of clothes. Goodness knows he’s like to break both doors down if we try to make them sleep in separate houses.”

     “That sounds great. Thank you,” I looked to Michael. “Both of you.”

     We walked them out and then decided to sit on the front porch steps, waiting for Mouse. No sense in locking up for the night until then. I’d grabbed my duster just to be safe, and as we sat there Molly snuggled her way under one arm, leaning gently on me. It was a cold night, even by November in Chicago standards, but that wasn’t really a concern for either of us. “Well, that went…”

    “Horribly.” I finished, with a laugh. “Catastrophically tits up in the most spectacular manner.” She laughed alongside me.

    “It really did. God. We can’t even have a family dinner without all hell breaking loose.”

   “Hell breaking loose might have been better. Your dad knows how to deal with things from hell. Queens of Faerie on the other hand…” We kept laughing.

   “Was he…was he mad?” She rubbed one hand casually up and down my chest, over my heart, as if to reassure herself that it was still beating.

    “Not at you. He wasn’t too happy with me. He accused me of trying to seduce you.”

    “That’s ridiculous.” Molly giggled, kissing me. “You’ve never had to try to seduce me.”

   “Yes, I’m sure that knowledge would have been comforting to him.” I pulled her tighter against me. “He came around though. What about Charity?”

    “I think she might be a doppelganger. I don’t know who was in that kitchen but it was not my mother.” Molly said, shaking her head. “She grabbed hold of me as soon as she saw me and wouldn’t let me go for like, ten minutes. She started crying, apologizing for not noticing and for making me think I had to hide it from her, and then I was crying and it was like a Hallmark movie for a while. I’m pretty glad you weren’t there to see it, actually. And then we got on the topic of you and uh. Well. She was skeptical. She asked if it was because of our mantles–”

    “Michael asked the same thing!”

   “–And I told her about everything. Well, not everything but I told her everything PG-13 and under. And she just sat there quietly for a minute then told me she was happy for me. Like, I think she meant it. It was the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

    “Really?” I threw every ounce of disbelief I could muster into the question. “You’ve never had anything weirder happen to you than your mom telling you she’s happy for you?”

    “Nope. Not a single thing.” She grinned. “Okay, well as much as today was a total suckfest, at least we can breathe easier.”

    “You’re not kidding. Not just your parents but knowing that you-know-who doesn’t care. I can stop looking over my shoulder waiting for her to appear and smite me every time we’re in bed together.”

    “Can we not talk about her or what happened in Arctis Tor for at least a day?” Her tone had sobered up quickly. “I just…If we start talking about it, we’re going to argue, and I really don’t want to argue tonight.”

    “Okay, but what are we going to argue about?” She rolled her eyes at me. “I mean, how do you know I'm going to argue if we haven't talked about it yet?”

    “Alright,” She sighed,  sitting up. “One, you're not coming on any missions with me, ever and it was stupid to make that deal with her. Two, what the hell were you thinking talking to her like that? Three, I don't need your protection or intervention on my behalf. Four, no,  I'm not going to talk about Alaska, don't ask.”

    “Hmm.” I processed her points. “I'm not going to fight you on most of that. As per usual when my lips are moving, I wasn’t thinking and you’re right, you don't need me to protect you anymore. That doesn’t mean I won't try, but I agree with your point. But yeah, okay, we’re definitely going to have some discussions.”

    “Of course,” She conceded.  “But not tonight. For tonight let's just settle for the knowledge that we’re alive and well and that neither of my parents tried to drag me to a nunnery.”

    “I’ll drink to that.”

     It wasn’t long before Mouse loped up to us, a tote bag held gingerly between his teeth. He didn’t even pause for a moment when he passed us, instead going straight for the storm door and batting at the handle with one paw. I hastened to let him in. He dropped his bag at the entrance and bounded for the basement door, letting out a loud bark that rattled my teeth in my skull. In answer, there was the hammer of little feet coming up the stairs and the door was thrown open.

    “Mouse!” Maggie squealed with delight as the dog covered her in slobbery kisses. “What are you doing here?” She looked down the hall to where Molly and I stood, my arm around her, and then looked the other way. “Where’d Mister and Missus Carpenter go?”

    “They’re old and tired. They went home for the night.” Molly said. “But your dad and I thought maybe you’d like to spend the night over here.”

    “Like a sleepover?” Her eyes were wide with excitement at the prospect of a sleepover with the ever-cool Molly.

    “Exactly like a sleepover.”

    My daughter emitted a sound that I’d previously thought could only belong to birds of prey and the raptors in Jurassic Park. Molly later assured me that other tiny humans, especially of the female variety, do in fact make similar noises to express joy, elation or ‘fangirling’. “Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes!!!!” She jumped up and down. 

    “Sweet,” Molly said. “First order of business?  Cookies!” I smiled as the two ran into the dining room and the awaiting cookies, slowly trailing after them with Mouse at my side.

    “She’s good with her,” I said quietly to the dog. “Better than I am.” Mouse nuzzled against my hand. “You're right, she's had more practice.” We headed for the kitchen first, where I grabbed a slice of pie for me, two glasses of milk for the girls and a plate of cold turkey for Mouse.

    “But how can you eat pie when these cookies exist?” Molly asked, mouth full. “How can you eat anything but cookies, when these cookies exist?”

   “I prefer pie,” I said with a shrug.

    “It’s okay. You don’t have to be right.” Maggie told me, sipping at her milk. Molly gave her a high-five.

   I waited until there was a lull in the conversation before broaching the topic of Molly and I. I debated how I wanted to discuss it, but finally settled on “Hey, so, Maggs, I wanted to get your opinion on something.”

     “I'm listening,” She replied, intrigued. 

     “Well, I like Molly a lot. And for some reason, she likes me a lot too. I was thinking about asking her to be my girlfriend. Would that be okay with you?”

     Maggie looked back and forth between us. “I just assumed you guys were already boyfriend and girlfriend.”

    “What?” Molly’s voice echoed my own.

     “Well yeah. When you’re in a room together it’s like you’re both always watching each other, even when you’re looking at other people. And you tease each other constantly. And you live together.” She chewed her cookie thoughtfully. “Plus, you guys were kissing each other pretty seriously in the kitchen yesterday when I came back to get my guitar, so I figured you were probably more than friends.”

    “Oh.” I flushed, thinking of how seriously we’d been ‘kissing’ in the kitchen yesterday and wondering at what point my daughter had walked in and how much therapy I’d need to pay for. “Okay, well. Yeah. So.”

    “What Harry’s trying to say is that you’re right. We’ve been boyfriend and girlfriend for a while now. But we wanted to make sure that you were okay with it because you’re really important to both of us.”

    “Okay with it? This is awesome! Alicia owes me and Hope $10.” She gave me a sideways glance “And I guess it’s cool to see you guys both happy, too. Or whatever.”

     After destroying the entire plate of cookies so thoroughly that there weren’t even crumbs to be found, we took the party to the living room. Maggie and Molly painted each other’s nails. Then Mouse’s nails. Then, begrudgingly, and only due to a lot of puppy dog eyes (four figurative, two literal), my toenails. While Maggie changed into her pajamas, Mouse and I managed to arrange every last pillow, blanket, sleeping bag and couch cushion in the entire house into a serviceable pile on the living room floor, large enough for all of us to lay side by side and watch a movie.  Maggie, as was her right as birthday queen, declared that we should watch her favorite movie, so we rented it and she snuggled in close to me.

      It started off cute. A story about two princesses, and oh look, one’s using magic to build a snowman. But by the time Molly got done changing and joined us, it had gotten really heavy really quickly. “Alright,” Molly flopped down on the other side of Maggie. “What are we watching?”

     What followed was an hour and a half of torture. Don't get me wrong, it was a cute movie, the songs were catchy, it was filled with lessons about love and family and I chuckled at least a few times. But, as my daughter quickly pointed out excitedly, the ice princess bore a striking resemblance to a certain someone. And not just in appearance. I could feel Molly cringe inwardly every time she was on screen.

    I reached out around Maggie and rested my hand on Molly’s shoulder, lightly stroking the bare skin of her arm. She smiled and scooted closer until my arm was fully around both of her shoulders and she was able to place one hand at the small of my back. Maggie just snuggled up close between the two of us, singing along with every word. When the movie finally, mercifully, ended we declared it bedtime. After some debate, we all decided to just stay on our makeshift bed on the floor. I lay on my back, watching the fireplace glow in my peripheral vision. Maggie curled against my side, her head on my chest. Tentatively, as though afraid she might break her (or, more likely, that she might protest,) Molly wrapped herself around the little ball of Maggie that lay between us so that her head was next to mine. For her part, Maggie just seemed to enjoy it. Once we were settled, Mouse spun in circles a few times then plopped himself down at Maggie’s feet, his head laying on my legs, and tail thumping happily against the floor a few times.

     It wasn’t long before the sound of quiet little snores drifted to my ears and I smiled but kept absently stroking her soft sable locks. In that moment, something stirred deep within me, a welling of emotions that I was wholly unfamiliar with. Family. This was my family that I held securely within my arms. Happiness, pure and unadulterated, filled my heart until I thought it might burst. All my life, this is what I’d been searching for. This moment of perfect contentment. Of course there were things to worry about, things that could go wrong, there always were. But for this one beautiful moment, I wasn’t thinking about what could go wrong, or what had gone wrong. I wasn’t stressed about mantles and sidhe, or the things that go bump in the night. There were no life or death stakes. There was only the sound of a crackling fireplace and my daughter’s soft, sweet, snoring as she lay sleeping between me and the woman I loved, our happy little family.

    It’s been my experience that generally, I can only get about ten consecutive minutes of happiness before something comes crashing in to ruin it. So, when I woke up suddenly an indeterminate amount of time later, I naturally panicked, assuming the worst. I knew I was being watched, and instinctively tightened my grip around Maggie and…empty air. My eyes darted wildly around the room, but it was hard to see much from my vantage point. Mouse opened one eye to look at me then huffed dismissively and closed it again. That single gesture did more to calm my nerves than anything else could have. If there were any kind of supernatural threat, he'd have leapt into action before I even woke up. Still, something had woken me up.

     “Go back to sleep.” A familiar voice spoke softly from somewhere behind me. I sat up, mindful not to jostle Maggie in the process. Molly was curled up in one of the armchairs under a blanket, a mug in one hand. Something glowed a sickly pale blue in her lap.

    “Y’okay?” I mumbled sleepily, the panic not quite knocking the fogginess from my brain. 

     “I'm fine, Harry,” She gave me a fond smile. “Everything is okay. Go back to sleep.”

    My brain chugged along, trying to determine whether or not I should do as she said. I think I can, I think I can. By the time I determined that I should stay up and investigate further despite how good the prospect of going back to sleep sounded, it became a moot point.  My body informed me that we were now awake and therefore needed to urinate. Don't get old kids. Well, I guess it's better than the alternative. Molly protested when I stood up, but I waved one hand at her in what I hoped was a placating gesture and availed myself of the lavatory.

   When I came back, Molly’s face was illuminated by the soft glow of what I now realized must be her cell phone. She usually made sure to keep it turned off near me, often even keeping it in another room just to be safe, so it was strange to see her with it now, tapping away at the tiny screen. I tried to think non-magical thoughts as I approached, peering over her shoulder. “You kids and your newfangled technology,” I whispered.

     “You’re just jealous gramps.” She grinned, continuing to tap. Chat bubbles appeared on the screen in alternating colors.

    “Who are you even writing to at this time of night?”

     “Can’t you tell from her contact photo?” She turned the phone slightly, so I could see it better. In a little square at the top of the page was a picture of a plump animated woman in a purple dress and cape, with a happy smile and a magic wand.

    “Very cute,” I said dryly. “Next question, why are you writing to Lea at this time of night?”

     Molly’s smile faded and she typed one final message before turning off the phone. “I couldn't sleep, so I figured I might as well check my messages. I’ve been slacking on that since you moved in. Not that I’m complaining.”

      “What did Lea want?” I asked, sitting down on the edge of the coffee table. We’d gotten a much sturdier one after the incident at my birthday party.

     “Nothing in particular. She heard rumors about what happened, wanted to know what was true, the nature of the bargains made, if you were alright.”

    “You were gossiping with the Leanansidhe?” Disbelief echoed in every syllable.

    She thought about it. “Huh. Yeah, I guess you’re right. This is a pretty normal routine for us. She gives me rumors and in exchange, I confirm what I can. I get tips about potential enemies or allies and the general movements of both groups. She gets mostly accurate information to use as desired.”

     “Stars and stones, Molly. Don’t make deals with her. Don’t even talk to her if you can avoid it. She’s dangerous, big time. Christ, aren’t apprentices supposed to learn from your mistakes?”

   To my surprise, Molly actually laughed. “Harry. Think for a moment about who you’re talking to. Of course I talk with Lea. Of course I make deals with her. And of course she’s dangerous. But she’s not a Queen.” A log shifted in the fireplace and light danced across her eyes, making them glint maliciously. A shiver ran through me before I could stop it. “I am. You should be more concerned with the deals you and I make than any made with her.”

     “I thought you didn’t want to talk about Arctis Tor until tomorrow?” I said with a sigh.

     “I don’t. But that’s not the only deal. You make deals and bargains all day long. You make offers. You give me gifts.” She leaned over and gave me a kiss, her teeth gliding gently over my bottom lip as she pulled away just enough to look up at me through heavily lidded eyes. “And I have to repay them. You know how we are.” Her voice was like liquid velvet pouring into my ears and rushing straight to all points south.

    “Is that right?” I smiled. “How careless of me.”

     Her expression was conflicted for a moment and she sounded distracted when she said. “Yes. It is.” But just as quickly her smile returned. “What am I going to do with you?”

    “I don’t know, but I think we should go upstairs and find out.” She kissed me again, languorous and lingering. “Or maybe the spare bedroom. The basement. I’m not picky.” She gave me the pleasure of a throaty little laugh, rich with sinful delight. There was a wealth of promise in each exhalation of breath and my mind and pulse raced with the possibilities.

      I'll tell ya, nothing kills the mood faster than a child's terrified scream. In an instant we were both alert, power drawn up, ready to unleash hell on whatever had caused my daughter’s blood-curdling shriek. I spun, turning back toward where she lay and found…nothing but Maggie. She still laid curled up where I’d left her, but her small form was rigid and shaking, her mouth open in horror. Tears formed in the corners of her tightly shut eyes.  Mouse nuzzled at her face gently, but it didn't seem to be helping. I closed my eyes, letting the energy I'd gathered ebb away.  I didn't need to unleash hell on the monsters making her scream, because I'd already done it.

     The night terrors weren't as frequent as they used to be, but it killed me every time. I sat back down on the makeshift bed and gently scooped her up into my arms. Her screams had turned to sobs and I held her close to my chest, smoothing her sable locks away from her tear-stained face.  I gripped one small hand. “Shh. Maggie. It's alright. You're okay kiddo. You're safe.” Her eyes fluttered open, filled with a terror that could have driven a grown-man mad, and she stared unseeing at me.

     “Ayúdame! Mamá! Los demonios! Ayúdame! Mamá! Dios! Ayúdame! Ayúdame!” Her voice was ragged from the screams and broke between sobs. I shook her lightly.

      “Hey, hey, you’re okay, hey, look at me, look at me.” I kissed her cheek. “I've got you, Maggie. Daddy’s here.”

    “D-daddy?” There should be some universal law that prevents any voice that small and innocent from sounding so pained.

     “That's right. You were just having a bad dream.  I'm right here. No monsters, just us.”

    Her breathing slowed some, but her eyes were still wild, and she clung to me. “I was back there. With them. They had me. I c-couldn’t see and they…”

     “Shh. I know honey, I know.” Darkness. Unnatural cold. Things with leathery black skin and wrinkled snouts. Inhuman screeching and the smell of blood and fear. “It was just a nightmare. They can’t get you, ever again.”

     “But…I was…they were…”

     “I know Maggs. But you’re okay. They’re all gone. Every last one of them.” Bianca. Paolo and Arianna Ortega. The Lords of Outer Night. Kukulcan himself. Every last filthy Red who had ever tried to hurt my family. 

     “Are you sure?”

      Beautiful brown eyes turning to pure black. A lifeless body on a sacrificial altar. Blood, hot and slick, covering my hands, dripping from the blade I still held. “Yes, baby. Your mom and I made damn sure of it. No one will ever hurt you like that again. Not while I'm still breathing.”

    It took a while for her to calm down enough for the tears to stop. Deciding that sleep was coming anytime soon for either of us, I lit the candles scattered about the room. My wizardly ability to make electronics go haywire seems to get worse when I’m upset or angry and since I was feeling a good measure of both, I didn’t want to risk lamps and light bulbs. The additional light seemed to dry out the last little sniffles and Maggie relaxed her death grip on my arm, sitting up slightly.

    “S-s-sorry to wake you guys up like that.” She wiped her face on the sleeve of her shirt.

    “We were already awake, but even if we weren’t you don’t need to apologize.” I cupped her cheek. “Everybody has nightmares.”

    “Not like mine.” She shivered. “I know it’s silly. I feel stupid. But when the nightmares come I just...” Her breathing started to quicken again before she caught herself, forcing herself with visible effort to calm down. “It’s hard to think. It’s like I’m right back there only…”

    “Only there’s no end.” I finished for her. “No one comes to rescue you. You’re left there, cold and alone in the dark, surrounded by monsters, forgotten.”

     “Exactly!” She sounded surprised. I nodded and gave her a half-smile that didn’t reach my tired eyes.

    “I know what you mean. I have those nightmares too.” Her eyes widened. “Ever since I was little. But as I grew up, I learned how to become someone that made the monsters afraid of me. So that I could keep everyone safe. Especially you.”

    “Will you teach me to be like that when I grow up?” Too eager, too excited. I almost dismissed her out of hand.  I didn't want my little girl to grow up to be a fighter. I didn't want her to walk the roads I’d walked. I didn't want her to have a life of hard choices and scraping by and only surviving through sheer will and a little bit of luck.

      But as I opened my mouth to say it, I caught her eyes, filled with fire and determination. I'd seen that look before, too many times to count. I could tell her no, but it wouldn’t stop her from trying. Either I would teach her what she wanted to know, or she'd find someone else who would. “It’s not exactly something you can teach and it’s…I hope you never need to learn to be like me.” I swallowed past a lump in my throat. “But I can teach you what I know about monsters. I’ll show you how to avoid them, detect them, and defend against them. Whe–if your magic manifests, I’ll teach you how to use it responsibly.” I caught myself. Just in case, better not to give her false hope.

    “You mean…I might be a wizard too?” Her eyes glowed brightly, all fear forgotten for a moment.

    “Maybe. Maybe not. The art is hereditary, and there’s no denying that you’re part of our bloodline. But there’s also no denying that you’re your mother’s daughter. You might take after her.”

      She slumped, frowning. “Oh. Okay.”

     “Hey now, there’s nothing wrong with that, if it’s the case. Your mom,” My voice cracked a little and I cleared my throat. Keep it together, Harry. “Your mom was one of the most extraordinary women I’ve ever met, and that’s saying something because I’ve met quite a few of them. She was so brave, and strong and clever too.” I found myself smiling slightly even as my vision started blurring, suddenly watery. “She always wanted to learn more, and to help people with that knowledge. She was passionate and stubborn and irresistibly charming.” I chanced a quick look at her eyes. “She gave everything to keep you safe because she loved you more than anything and everything. That's the kind of person she was. A hero.”  Maggie touched my face, wiping away a few tears which only made it worse and I pulled her tight against me. I could at least keep her from seeing me cry if I couldn’t keep her from feeling my body shake. “No matter what you do in life, you’re going to be great, okay? And I’ll be right there behind you, helping in any way I can. So, don’t you worry.”

      I heard Molly’s feet scuff on the floor as she came into the room. She could have been silent, but she wanted us to know she was there. We both looked up, and she was standing there with two steaming mugs in her hands. “I um.” She looked down at the mugs sheepishly then back up at us. “I thought hot chocolate might be in order?”

     Maggie scrambled off of me to grab her mug eagerly. “Thanks, Molls,” I said quietly, my voice thicker with emotion than I’d have liked. She flashed me a wan smile and handed my cup over. As I took my first sip, I noticed her making a hasty exit. “Hey, where are you going?”

    “Oh. Umm. I was just going to go out to the kitchen for more tea?” She sounded unsure and seemed to puzzle over each word. I gave her a questioning look which she promptly ignored, fleeing. Well, that wasn’t odd or anything. 

    I glanced to Maggie, where she sat sipping happily away, leaning against Mouse. “Are you okay if I go help Molly in the kitchen for a minute? I'll be right back.” She nodded over her cup, evidently unwilling to stop drinking long enough to respond verbally. Her nightmares appeared to be completely forgotten for the moment, so I slipped out to follow Molly.

    I found her in the kitchen as promised, bent over the kitchen sink, tea kettle in hand. The kettle was overflowing, but she still hadn’t shut off the faucet. Her body shook silently. Without a word, I came over and turned off the sink, taking the kettle from her and setting it aside. I wasn’t surprised by her red-rimmed eyes when she turned to look at me. We shared a small kiss and she looked up at me, her eyes pleading. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t handle…not both of you.” She touched my chest, above my heart and slowly stroked back and forth.

     I nodded my understanding. “It must be hard, being so sensitive. I can’t imagine.”

     “It’s kind of like being a teenager. A whole bunch of emotions running through your body and they all feel alien.” Her lips quirked in a half-smile. “The mantle actually helps a lot. I don’t feel anything as strongly, which sucks when it’s my own emotions but really helps when it’s not.” Her eyes met mine, searching. “But you’re both in so much pain. I haven’t felt anything that strongly in years, mantle or not. She was so afraid and…” She looked away. “I wanted to be there for her. But I couldn’t find the words to say. Not the right words. Not for a human child.”

      A chill ran through me, but I tried not to let it show. “Hey, it’s alright. You were overwhelmed, it’s understandable. I was there to help and–”

     “No, Harry. You don’t understand. I always knew what to say when the Jawas were upset. I’m good at that kind of thing. I know what they’re feeling and what they need to hear. But now…my first thought was that a frightened child makes for an easy target. I could exploit her fear to quickly obtain anything I wanted from her – her loyalty, her love, her obedience.”

      “You would never do that, Molly. We both know that.” I assured her. “I have dark thoughts sometimes too. It’s how we act that’s important.”

      “…I felt your pain. Even through the fog of the mantle, it's overpowering, a heavy, crushing weight. I don’t know how you can bear it. Even if it comes and goes.” Her hand stilled, pressed hard against my heart. “I know how to use that too, Harry. It would be the easiest thing in the world. I could make you betray everything you care about, break every law, bleed and kill and destroy as I saw fit, just by pulling on those strings. It would feel so good to do it. And if I played my cards right, you wouldn’t even realize I’d manipulated you.”

     I ground my teeth, weighing my next words carefully. “I suppose you could. But why tell me?”

    She gave an exasperated shrug. “Because I love you. And my first thought upon seeing you in so much pain shouldn’t be how I can use it to my advantage.”

    “You’re right. It shouldn’t.” I said quietly. She recoiled as though I’d hit her and I pressed on. “But you can’t help what’s in your nature. Do you know what my first thought was when I came into the kitchen?” She shrugged. “I saw you were crying, and my natural instinct was to attack now, while you were weakened, and your back was turned. I could have my hands around your throat and your pants around your ankles before you even knew I was here.” I saw steel flash in her eyes for a moment before she relaxed. “I’m not afraid of you, Molly. Not because I think you can’t hurt me. I know you can. But because I know you. You’ll always be in my corner, no matter what we face. Even ourselves.”

     “That’s an awful lot of trust to put in a Faerie Queen.” She said. Her tone was playful, but her eyes were still shadowed.

      “I’ve already put all of my trust in you.” I kissed her forehead, just between the brows. “See, the thing is, you don’t need to be Sidhe to hurt or control me. You don’t need to exploit my daughter or my pain over her mother to get me to do whatever you want.” I held her gaze. “I would already do anything for you. You just have to ask.”

    I watched her soften, like the springtime slowly melting away the snow, revealing patches of green life beneath. “You’re a sap. But thank you.” We embraced, and I inhaled deeply, finding comfort in the familiar scent. I was honestly more than a little disturbed by her confession but as long as those thoughts remained thoughts and not actions, we were fine. “You know, if you ever want to talk to someone about Susan, I’m here. Sometimes it can help to get it off your chest.”

     “Ah, no thanks. I’m fine. Dealing with it.” I rolled a shoulder. “Come on, let’s go put Maggie back to bed and catch a couple of hours ourselves.”

Chapter Text

    As it turned out, Maggie had already put herself back to bed. Her mug emptied, she curled up against Mouse and was fast asleep. Rather than disturb her, we decided to just head upstairs. Our normal sheets and blankets were part of the pile Maggie slept on, but Molly produced a throw blanket that covered most of me and all of her as we climbed into bed. I had intended to go right to sleep but as I lay there my mind raced, recounting the day’s activities. It seemed like an entire week had passed since that morning when we’d woken up in the spare bedroom.

     “Bonnie told me something interesting this afternoon.” I finally said. Molly gave an inquisitive grunt, sounding halfway to sleep. “Those people that were murdered last month? Apparently, they all knew my mom.”

     She rolled over to look at me. “I see.” No denial or confirmation. “Do you think that means something?”

    “I’m more interested in what you think.”

    “I think it’s very late at night to start speculating about a killing spree that is over and done with. Especially one that the Queen herself told you to stop investigating.” Her tone sounded tired and bored, but her eyes were bright and alert.

    “Yeah, I think it’s relevant.” I sighed, raking one hand through my hair in frustration. “I’m not sure how yet. But it feels important.”

     She pursed her lips and I could practically see her trying to figure out what she was able to say. “It certainly seems like an odd coincidence.” She furrowed her brow, concentrating. “Although I think it might be harder to find people who don’t know her.” She let out a breath of frustration.

      “I guess that’s probably true. She spent a lot of time cataloging the Ways, I'm sure she was in the Nevernever a lot.” Molly frowned but said nothing.  “But it’s still worth looking into further, right?”

    She smiled, obviously pleased. “There's nothing wrong with having an inquisitive mind. If you ask the right questions to the right being, you never know what she might be able to tell you.”

     “I don’t suppose you’re the right person to ask though, are you?” I mused, half to myself.

    “It depends on what you’re asking.” She purred, stirring beneath the blanket until the full length of her naked body was pressed against mine. “If you ask the right questions, I might say yes.”

    “Only might?” I laughed. “I’ve never known you to say no.”

     “Not when you’re asking.” She stretched out, so she could reach my face, pressing her lips against mine. The rest of her body moved in very interesting ways, silky skin and soft flesh gliding over my leg, hip, and chest.

    “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to distract me,” I told her. I tried not to let her hear how well it was working, but her hands glided over my chest, down my stomach and…she must have gotten a pretty good idea.

     “Damn. You saw through my clever plan.” Her fingers were cool as they curled around my member, but it did nothing to dampen my ardor. “And I was so subtle about it too.” She started to pump me, and I grunted involuntarily.

    “I’m not – umph – going to forget – that easily.” I managed to choke out between breaths.

    “I didn’t think you would, Harry.” Her unoccupied hand stroked my face lovingly while the other kept up its maddening pace. “But I know you. You’ll worry about this all night, maybe even stay up making calls and doing research, if I let you. So,” she grinned, “I’m going to tire you out, so we can go to sleep.”

   She removed her hands and I groaned at the sudden loss. “Fuck. You tricky faeries,” I said, voice rough and wild. “Think you can just have your way with me to keep me occupied?” She froze for a second, halfway on top of me, then caught my eye and smiled.

     “I think I can have my way with you for whatever reason I want.” She settled astride me with an arch look. “And tonight, that reason is that I spent all day thinking about what I wanted to do to you and being unable to and if I have to wait one more minute, I’m going to scream.”

    “Mm. Well, I don’t mean to burst your bubble, but I fully intend to make you scream anyway.” I growled, locking our legs and rolling us both over so that I was on top.

    “You’re welcome to try.” She shot back, defiance in her eyes. “But I’m not sure what a mortal man could do for a faerie queen.”

    I genuinely laughed. I’d just been teasing her earlier but if that’s how she wanted to play, I could do it. “It won't be the first time I've made a Lady scream.” I pushed her arms roughly over her head, pinning both slender wrists in one hand. “Ask Aurora.” I saw her eyes flash again, real anger showing for just a moment before Molly got herself back under control.

     “You won't find Winter as weak, Knight.” She sneered. “If you want to hear me scream, you’re going to have to work for it.” She pretended to struggle, bucking beneath me, moving her arms as though she meant to break free. I wasn’t holding her that tightly and even if I was, she had strength to at least match my own, if not surpass it, but we both played along. 

     I forced my lips against hers, raking my teeth over them, biting and devouring. She tried to turn her head, to deny me, but I used my free hand to shove her face back toward me. “I want to see the look on your face when you're shouting my name.”

    Molly gave a theatrical yawn. “Oh, are you still here?” She smirked. “You'll need to go farther than first base if you – Aahng!” She broke off with an inarticulate noise of surprise as I slid three fingers inside of her. I took advantage of the surprise and laid siege to her mouth again, running my tongue against the back of her teeth. I worked my fingers in and out of her until they were slick with her desire.  I could feel her need growing, but she did her best not to let it show. Her face was a mask of haughty anger which only occasionally flickered. Her flaring nostrils were the only indication that her breathing had quickened, and she pressed her lips into a tight line, biting off any of her usual moans and sighs.

    “Give it up now and I won't make you beg,” I whispered in her ear, nipping at her neck.

     “Funny, I was just about to say the same to you.” I switched to a full-on bite and she gasped, rocking on my fingers as her hips bucked. I glanced around, looking for something to bind her wrists with so I could get both hands on her. My amulet lay on the side table and I reached for it without thinking, wrapping it around her wrists. As soon as the metal made contact with her skin it left a mark.

     “Shit, sorry Molls,” I pulled the chain away, dropping the act immediately and panicking.

    “No, leave it, just, don’t stop now.” She said in a strained version of her normal voice before switching to the colder velvety tone she’d been using. “Don’t think that binding my hands will keep you safe. You can use my body, but you’ll never have me.”

     Okay, that probably shouldn't have been quite so erotic.  I've got some issues, I guess.  The bottom line is the rebellion in her eyes and the determined set of her upturned jaw was enough to send me into a frenzy. “You asked for it, Tinkerbell.”

     I shoved her legs apart, wider than necessary just to make her uncomfortable. I buried my head between them, working my mouth until she whimpered, despite herself. I ran my tongue over and around her pearl of pleasure, tasting her salty sweat and desire. I gripped her hips in each hand, tracing the delicate lines of her hip bones and I felt her tremble under my touch.  She was close, even if she pretended otherwise.  When I glanced up at her face, I could tell she was biting her cheek to remain quiet, struggling to keep her expression controlled and I grinned.

    I withdrew from her completely, without so much as a warning, and her eyes snapped open.  I sat patiently, just watching her, smirking. She narrowed her eyes. “Have you given up so soon?”

    “Oh no. I’m just waiting.” I told her calmly. I inspected my fingernails.

   “For what?” She squirmed, and I could hear the chain from my amulet sizzle as new skin touched it.

    “For you to beg.” I ran one hand along the curve of her side, calloused fingers just barely touching her alabaster flesh.

    “You’ll be waiting a long time then,” She returned my smirk.

    “Mm. I don't think so.” I brushed my knuckles across one nipple, then the other. She stiffened but said nothing. I twirled her pale pink flesh between my fingers, feeling them harden at my touch. She gasped but covered it well with another fake yawn and a look of indifference that almost hid her quivering lips. 

    “Is this all it takes for mortals?” She glanced up and down the length of me with disgust. “Pathetic creatures.”

    “That's funny coming from something like you.” I felt her back start to arch as I raked my fingers down her body, over the swell of her tits, the soft curves of her hips, along her thighs. “Calling us that.”

     “Creatures?” Her smirk was hard, edged in anger.

     “Pathetic,” I growled, sneering down my nose at her.  Some distant part of me was revolted by the cruel set of my own features, the loathing dripping from my voice.

    She hissed at me, baring her teeth like a wild animal. “Remove these chains and I'll show you pathetic, apeling.” I forgot that we were playing for a moment. For one fraction of a second, I felt fear creep up my spine and transform into real anger, the kind that usually ended with blood and fire. My throbbing erection evidently didn’t get the memo, since it insisted that I should listen to her and see where it goes. I saw her façade falter for a moment, her eyes a little too wide, and I realized I'd been drawing in power without meaning to. I reeled myself in.

     “Nice try,” I leaned back over her, positioning myself so I could grind my hips slowly, almost leisurely against hers. A moan squeaked its way past her lips and I brought my face close to hers, our noses almost touching. “You can call yourself a queen, but you'll beg like a peasant.”

     She spit in my face. 

     I lost my goddamn mind.

     “Alright, sidhe bitch, let me show you how a mortal does it.” I slammed my dick into her with enough force to bruise us both. I didn't care.

      “One would assume it’s like your lifespan – brief and with a messy yet generally unsatisfying end.” Her voice was tight and strained as she fought to control it. Her fingers clenched at the bedsheets as I kept going. There’s a man that lives under my skin, who thinks with blood and rage and speaks with smoke and flame. He was there long before any Knight’s mantle or fallen angel’s kiss. I'd spent over half my life trying to keep him at bay. But he was loose now, and nothing I could do was enough. I wanted. I needed.  Skin, flesh, heat, exquisite pain and agonizing pleasure. I intended to take my fill.

      “Say my name.” I spit the words through gritted teeth.

      “Make me, wizard,” she spat back.  Despite her best efforts, I could feel her back arching, her hips rising up to meet mine and I drove harder but slower.  Drawing all the focus I could muster, I whispered a spell and when I released it a small flame,  no bigger than that of a candle, rested comfortably in my palm.    

     “Say my name,” The words rolled off my tongue,  the command echoing.  I held the flame close to her face, enough that she could feel the heat coming off of it. I expected it to scare her, at least under the persona if not outwardly, but it only seemed to steel her resolve. I turned my palm over, flames licking up around my fingers. I’d coated my hand in a thin layer of frost to prevent damage,  but it still itched and tickled. Holding my hand about half an inch above her, I ran it down the center of her chest. I was close enough for her to feel the heat but didn't linger long enough to actually give more than a hint of a burn. “It would be a shame to leave marks on your perfect skin.” I could hear her heart hammering in her throat, but her eyes were excited and wild, a mirror to my own fervor.

     When she spoke, her words were precise, like she was speaking to a small child. “I believe I said, Make. Me.”

      I growled, a bestial wordless noise, and slapped her with a flaming hand, hard enough to turn her head to the side. I scared myself and the flame quickly went out, but she bucked up underneath me with a gasp. When she turned back to look at me her eyes were smoldering pits of ire…and arousal. I forced an even, steely voice, recovering from my shock. “Thrice I command thee, Say. My. Name.”

    She laughed. “That only applies to questions,  Knight. You can’t compel me thusly.”

    “Alright.” I pulled out, stood up and went into the bathroom. 

    “Are you so easily defeated?” She called. I ignored her. After a moment she added, “Your games won't work on me. My patience is infinite.” After another moment of silence, in her regular voice, Molly said “Harry?”

     I poked my head around the door, smirking. “I'm sorry, my hearing isn't what it used to be, mortal ears you know, did the Queen have something to say?”

     “We’re not finished here.” Her tone was not amused.

     “Oh, aren't we?” I stalked back into the room, slowly approaching the bed.   

     “No. We aren't.”

     “Hmm. Well,  I was given to understand that you were having an awful time. I assumed you'd just want to take care of it yourself.” I ran one hand up and down the length of my aching cock, slick with her arousal and my own eagerness. “That's what I'm doing.”      

     She huffed. “My hands are still bound.”

      “So they are,” I hummed thoughtfully. “I guess that would make this difficult for you, wouldn’t it?”

      “You're a miserable bastard.” She wiggled, trying to get her hands free without success.

     “I'm feeling pretty content right now.  Almost,” I grunted, the perfect emphasis as I stroked myself, watching her struggle. “satisfied.” Molly’s cussing alternated between her normal voice, full of frustration, and the cold velvety voice she'd been seducing me with. “I mean, I suppose I could try to help. If you were in need of my assistance.”

      “I will make you pay for this.” It sounded like she meant it

     “That doesn’t sound right. I’m offering to help you with your predicament. You should be telling me what you offer in return.” Her eyes narrowed, but they were sparkling, trying to hide a smile.

    “A bargain?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. I inclined my head. “And what are the terms?”

    “I will resume our sport, and continue until you are satisfied. If, and only if, you ask nicely.” I gave her a toothy smile that Marcone would have been proud of.  “I told you, I'll have you begging before we’re through.”

     Queen Molly stared daggers at me for a long time, but as my hand glided along the length of my member her eyes tracked the movement, hungrily. She licked her lips and finally said. “Fine. I agree.” She rolled her eyes. “Please, wizard, won't you help me?”

    “You have to ask nicer than that. That just sounded bored.”

    “I hate you.” She sighed. “Please, Knight, please, please, help me. I need you.”

    I climbed onto the bed, poised over her. “That one sounded better, but it's still missing something. I think maybe you should,” I shrugged one shoulder. “Say my name.”

    “That wasn't part of our bargain.” She looked up at me with desperate eyes full of fire and passion and a Cheshire grin “If you want to hear me say your name, then please,  please, pretty please. Come make me say it.”

    “That can be arranged.” I kissed her and felt a little tremor of power run through us both. The deal was made.

    I picked up where we left off with renewed vigor, losing myself in her. This wasn’t the sweet, passionate lovemaking we usually shared. This was hard, demanding, animal rutting. With each thrust her breathing became more labored, huffing with the effort of suppressing sound. “That’s it. You know you like it.” She opened her mouth to reply but all that came out was a choked gasp of pleasure. “So close. Beg for it.”

    “Not. The deal.” She gasped.

    “Oh I know, but I think you’ll do it anyway, won’t you? Tell me you want it. Beg.”

    “I,” Her expression flickered, pupils blown and cold haughtiness crumbling. “But. I.” At last, she finally caved in a moment of passion, and I heard her voice ring out with a sweet cry of pleasure. “Yes. Please, I want you. Please, take me. Use me. Fuck me.”

     “Good,” I purred, following her urging. I could feel the pressure building and I hoped she came soon because I was fairly sure I no longer had any control over my own orgasm at this point. “Now you know what I want, my queen.”

    “Oh, you son of a bitch. God, yes, fuck. Okay. Please, please Harry, I need you. Please. Oh god. Harry. HARRY!” Her body bowed and stayed that way for a long moment, shudders running through her as she shouted my name. Her voice cracked and her mouth worked silently for a moment before she fell back to the bed, gasping for air. I kissed her forehead, removing my amulet from her wrists and returning it to my neck. I pulled out and lay on my side next to her, watching her slowly regain her breath. I was still painfully erect, something that the rise and fall of her chest and the associated jiggling was doing nothing to help, but it felt wrong to disturb her post-orgasm repose. I started to roll over, thinking I would go take care of it myself in the bathroom while she recovered, but she caught my wrist. “Hey, you didn't finish.”

     “That wasn't part of the deal.” I gave her a lopsided smile and she snorted. 

     “Well I'm not satisfied until you're satisfied so I think it is.”

     I gave her a once over. Her hair was a tangled fan behind her, her face flushed,  pupils dilated, limbs loose and sprawled out. “Funny. You look thoroughly satisfied.” But her hand groped blindly until it found its mark and I wasn’t about to argue. Even in her state, she made embarrassingly quick work of it. Afterward, we both just lay there, quietly content.

    Molly eventually broke the silence. “So. That was a thing that happened.”

    I flushed. “Uh. Yeah. Yep.”

    “You called me a sidhe bitch. And slapped me. With fire.” Her voice was filled with suppressed laughter but I still winced.

    “I did,” I admitted. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just–”

    “I may never be able to orgasm again.” She rolled over onto her side so that we were face to face. She was grinning ear to ear with delight and it made her look (to my discomfort) ten years younger. “I mean, I've seen you be the big bad wizard, ready to fight the forces of evil, and I knew it was hot from this side but, damn. Maybe you'd have fewer enemies if you didn't look so sexy when you're ready to light someone on fire.”

    “I think it's probably got more to do with my charming personality.” I mused, kissing the tip of her nose. “Seriously, are you okay? That was…I got carried away.”

    “Yeah you did,” Molly made it sound like an innuendo. “Harry, I'm fine. I'm great. That's the whole point of role-playing. You lose yourself in it.” She trailed one finger down my chest,  playing with my dark hair. “…Are you okay?”

    “I don't know,” I said slowly. “I mean I've always known that I had…darker desires. But…”

     “Oh come on, you never got a little kinky with anyone else?” She teased. “Murphy has a motorcycle, you're telling me she doesn't bring the leather into the bedroom?”

    “I. Yes. She does. But um, well, we err.” I was red-faced and stammering. Great. “No, I never hit her.”

    Molly took a little too much interest in that implication. “I never would have guessed you’d be into that. You’re really not the submissive type.” I tried to shrug nonchalantly, or to shrug out of my skin to avoid this conversation, whichever came first. I didn’t come close to either. “Still, I get maybe not Luccio, because if you even thought about slapping her she’d probably rip your dick off, but not even with Susan or Elaine?”

     I sighed. “I was a  teenager when Elaine and I were fooling around. The basics were new, we didn’t really need to expand our horizons much and Susan…we had some wild nights. God, the night we made Maggie was…” My chest seized for a moment as the thought of Susan caught up to me. I took a deep breath and shoved those feelings aside. Molly squeezed my hand, grounding me. I smiled. “You know, in a way Maggie is sort of your fault.”

     “How could I be involved in any way with you knocking up Susan?” She asked, laughing. “I didn’t even know where you lived. Was I just such hot jailbait that you saw me and had to grab the first legal woman you saw and nail her?”

    “Yuck. You were like, 12 when Maggie was born.”

    “Or 15.” She corrected, rolling her eyes.

    “Same difference.”

    “Really? Was it?” Molly threw in extra skepticism, just to be safe. “Because I seem to remember a certain twenty-something started paying a lot more attention to me and what I was or wasn’t wearing around about that time.”

    “That’s – I didn’t – the point is, it’s your fault because you were a disturbingly knowledgeable teen and told me I should tie Susan up. And I did. And then, well, we went from there and nine months later – Maggie.”

    “Oh my god, in the treehouse! I almost forgot about that.” She smiled at the memory. “Why were you wearing handcuffs?”

    “Why did you have handcuff keys?”

    “You didn't want to know then, are you sure you want to know now?” She smirked. “You're not the first guy to bind my wrists.”

    “But you were a kid!” I protested, outraged and disturbed at the thought.

    She arched an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, remind me, how old was Elaine when you popped her cherry?”

    “Touché.” I ran one hand down the length of her arm, tracing the lines of irritated flesh around her wrist. “I've never intentionally hurt a woman in that way before, no. I know you were just pretending but the more you hated me, the more you resisted, the more you wanted to kill me? The harder I got. I wanted to hurt you, to break you. And the worst part is…it felt unbelievably good to do it. I’m getting hard again just thinking about it. What kind of a man gets an erection at the thought of hitting his girlfriend?”

     “A shitty one, if you’re just sitting around thinking about hitting me for no reason. But in bed with a willing partner? Harry, I love you. I love sleeping with you. I love how gentle and sweet you can be. But this, tonight, I love this too.” She kissed me softly. “You don't have to be ashamed or afraid of what you want. I trust you, completely.”

    “That makes one of us.”

    “You are way too hard on yourself. Listen, if you ever go too far, or you try to do something I don't want to do, I'll tell you. I'll bring you back down.”

    “What if you can't stop me?”

    Molly laughed, giving me a pitying smile. “Trust me. I can stop you.”

    “It’s a legitimate concern.  I know you're stronger now but so am I and-“

    “I'm significantly stronger than you. I can crush every bone in your body with no more effort than you'd put into crumbling a dried leaf. But even if we put that aside,  I am actually a Queen of Winter. I could make you stop in a thousand different ways even if you weren't our Knight. And I know your Name.” Her tone was calm, without any trace of threat. These were just facts. It was 12:17 am, 34 degrees outside and my girlfriend,  the Winter Lady, had ultimate power over me. 

    “Well, when you put it like that.” I swallowed. 

     “You're not a threat to me,  Harry.” She traced the lines of my face, my furrowed brow,  my various scars. “But it will never come to any of that. You can let yourself go as wild as you want, you'll still stop the second I tell you to. It’s who you are.”

   I thought about that. Would I have stopped earlier,  if she'd told me to? If she said something in her regular voice? Yeah, she was probably right. “…You really enjoyed yourself?”

    “What do you think?” She quirked an eyebrow.

    I frowned “I think that's not really an answer to my question.”

    “Yes, you big idiot. I really enjoyed myself. I've got some pretty damn dark desires too.  And since becoming the Winter Lady? Let's just say my tastes haven't gotten tamer. Oh, and the bargain?” She made a noise somewhere between a growl and a moan. “Bargains are like, it’s like, I can’t...it’s its own kind of lust. Like, drugs and alcohol and candy and sex all rolled into one. Combining that with actual sex?” She shivered with delight. “Perfect. That was perfect.”

     I wanted to hate myself and to hate what we had done.  I wanted to say that I’d never do it again, never raise my hand against her, never threaten her. I wanted to shove that side of me way down deep inside and never let it surface again.  Or at least I wanted to want those things. But knowing that she liked it and even wanted more made it hard for me to hold myself to that conviction. I yawned, my eyes growing heavy as we reclined, feeling very warm and comfortable and alive. “Damn you, I think your dastardly plan worked.”

     She pushed me lightly so that I was laying on my back, threw the blanket toward the dirty clothes hamper, and rested her head on my shoulder, snuggling in just under my chin, over my heart.  “Thank you.”

    “You started it. I just–”

     “No. I mean. For everything. For all the stupid, brave, stupid, wonderful and stupid things you did for me today.” She traced the outlines of scars across my chest like she was connecting dots. It felt comfortable and familiar after so many nights together.

    “But what about all of the stupid things I did?”

    I felt her grin without even looking.  “Yeah, those too, doofus.” She nuzzled my cheek and the smell of her was almost intoxicating enough to make me consider another round. But it had been a long day. My limbs didn't want to move and neither did my head so I settled for just pulling one arm around her. We lay together in comfortable silence for a while. When she spoke again, her words were a drowsy mumble. “I told my mom that I love you.”

    “I figured that was probably part of the conversation, yeah.” I teased, rubbing her back.

    “I like telling people that. I like not having to be embarrassed about how I feel.” She gripped me tightly. “I like how you make me feel.”

     “I like how you make me feel too,” I said quietly, blinking tears out of my eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “I told your dad I love you.”

    “Sssa weird thing to say to my dad,” Her voice was slightly slurred from sleep and I couldn’t tell whether she was giving me a hard time or too tired to understand. I chuckled either way. Her breathing had slowed down, and she looked peaceful, either already asleep or almost there. I envied how quickly she could manage that.

    “I told him I wanted to marry you,” I whispered, kissing her head. There was no reaction, so I guessed she was asleep. “That I want to give you everything, a lifetime of happiness.” And if we could survive today, I thought to myself then I have to believe it’s possible to do it.

Chapter Text

      I’ve never gotten into the habit of locking my bedroom door. I’ve lived by myself for most of my life, and the few times I didn’t I either lived with other guys that kept to themselves so I didn’t need to lock it, or I lived with Elaine and left the door unlocked intentionally so I could be easily accessible. So I woke up in a panic the next morning when I heard Maggie’s voice from outside of the bedroom door, and the jiggling of the door handle.

    Fortunately, Molly grew up in a house with six younger siblings and had frequently needed her privacy. “Relax, it's locked,” She mumbled, barely lifting her head off of my chest. Her hair was a tangled mess, spread across her face, and she didn't look like she planned on moving any time soon. 

    “Do we pretend I'm not in here?” I whispered

    “I think she'll be able to figure out that you're in here.” She said quietly to me, then yelled. “Good morning Birthday Squirt! We’ll be down in just a moment, okay?  Meet you in the kitchen for birthday pancakes.”

   “Oh, okay!” Piped a small, excited voice. Tiny footsteps padded back down the stairs.

    “What are birthday pancakes?” I asked around a yawn.

    “I’ll tell you once I figure that out.” With a groan, she rolled over and stretched herself out. “What’s the plan for today?”

     The plan, as it was, went surprisingly well. After we got dressed, we went downstairs to greet the birthday girl. I consumed a pot of coffee mixed with half a jug of milk and a bowl of sugar. Molly made birthday pancakes, which she decided were regular pancakes with a dollop of cake icing instead of syrup. Maggie loved them. I was only allowed regular pancakes because, after all, it wasn’t my birthday. I thought that was unfair but Maggie assured me that I was wrong. If Maggie had thought it strange that we slept in the same bedroom, she didn’t say anything about it.

    After breakfast, we went to the zoo. Molly took my arm as we strolled past the exhibits, Maggie and Mouse darting back and forth between them. We'd made this trip a few times before, sans Molly, and it had always been nice. But now it felt a hundred times better.  At first, I was chalking it up to general happiness combined with that warm fuzzy feeling of actually having a family just putting me in a better mood.  I felt more relaxed, more comfortable. It wasn’t until we were on our way out of the park when I accidentally bumped into a woman and she just smiled pleasantly at me and told me not to worry about it when I apologized, that I figured out the major difference between this trip and all the others.

     I leaned close to Molly. “Did you…”

    “Put a glamour on us to make us look a little less interesting?” She supplied, then shrugged. “I thought it might be a good idea for us to keep a low profile. Between you and Mouse, we’re a pretty distinctive group, which makes Maggie an easy target.”

     I let out a low whistle. “Damn you’re good. I didn’t feel a thing. Not to mention to hold something that complicated, for so long, in broad daylight. Color me impressed, Grasshopper.”

      Her eyes sparkled with delight at both the praise and the nickname. “I’m a very talented girl, Boss. Maybe later I can show you some other tricks I’ve learned.” Umph. She’d called me ‘Boss’ a hundred thousand times before, but not since we’d been together. It took me back to long days that had turned into long nights of working together in my lab. Nights when my resolve had weakened just enough to allow me to consider rescinding the 'don't touch’ portion of my standard ‘(as long as no one’s watching) it’s okay to look but don’t touch’ policy. Usually, those moments occurred courtesy of a pair of cut off jean shorts or a tattered, low-cut shirt that just barely covered the essentials combined with a lengthy lack of carnal activities with someone other than my own hand. I never acted on them, but in my head, I’d bend her over the table, or push everything off of my desk and…the point is, I quickly decided I liked it when she called me Boss, now more than ever.

     We stopped at Mac’s for lunch. He inclined his head slightly to both me and Molly when we walked in, then slowly turned his gaze on Maggie. For a moment I was sure he was going to tell us to get out. I'd never seen a kid in Mac’s before and I wasn’t sure what his policy would be. Then he smiled, which looked a bit unusual on his face, and headed straight for the grill without bothering to ask what we wanted. Four steak sandwiches, one in a bowl for Mouse, and one with a cupcake next to it were slid onto the counter in short order. “Cute.” He grunted when I came up to grab everything.

     “Gets that from her mom,” I agreed.

      “Looks happy.” He glanced sideways at me, polishing a glass. “You too.”

      I watched Maggie and Molly, sitting at the table chatting away, both nothing but smiles. “What can I say, I’m a lucky man.”

     Mac snorted. “The only luck we have is what we make ourselves. What you are is stubborn.”

     “You got me there,” I admitted, starting back toward our table with an armful of plates and marveling over the fact that I'd managed to get a full sentence out of him.   

     “Be careful with her, Harry. You’re courting a world of trouble.” His low rumbling voice was like thunder on the horizon and it made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Two whole sentences and neither of them was reassuring.

     I looked back over my shoulder at him and he met my eyes, holding my gaze. I wasn’t sure in that moment if he meant Maggie or Molly or both, but I nodded solemnly. “I know. I will.” He returned my nod then pointedly went back to polishing the glass in his hand.

      After lunch, we went to the movies. Maggie chose a cartoon about superheroes, much to my approval. I dropped a small fortune at the concession stand and purchased just about one of everything they had. The three of us had a veritable smorgasbord of sugar and popcorn spread out in front of us as we settled down in our seats.

    “You’re going to rot her teeth out,” Molly chided. I noted her objection didn’t stop her from snagging the entire box of Junior Mints.

    “She’s fine. She’ll brush her teeth tonight, right munchkin?”

   “Mm-hmm!” Maggie agreed around a mouthful of popcorn.

     Molly shook her head, rolling her eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”

    “Hopefully not the same thing you did the last time we went to the movies,” I said slyly, causing her to choke and cough.

    “What happened the last time you went to the movies?” Maggie asked me, swinging her feet.

     “Oh, uh. Molly kept talking. We had to leave the theater.” I turned my head away so she wouldn’t see me blush, wishing fervently that the lights would go down. 

    “I seem to recall you making a lot of noise yourself.” Molly quipped, impishly grinning. 

     “Well, I hope you both behave yourselves better today.” Maggie huffed.  “I don't want to miss the movie.”

     “Yes, ma’am,” I said, with a perfectly straight face.

     “I think your daughter has been spending too much time with my mom,” Molly whispered, giggling.

     The movie was pretty good. Afterward, we grabbed pizza at a nearby shop and Maggie reenacted several scenes with Mouse while we waited. Molly entwined her fingers with mine as we watched them play, and I was hesitant to let her go when food finally arrived. However, it’s a bit of a challenge to eat greasy pizza with just your non-dominant hand, so I eventually relented.

      The only problem we encountered all day was traffic on the way home. There was an accident blocking all lanes on the highway, and cars were at a standstill. The entire trip should have only taken us twenty minutes, but after a half-hour, we’d only moved a quarter of a mile.

    “Looks like we tired her out,” Molly whispered. I glanced back and saw Maggie was completely zonked in the back seat using Mouse as a pillow.

    “Well, we were up late last night and early this morning, especially with her nightmare. Can’t blame her for being sleepy.” Molly’s hand settled on top of mine where it rested on the gear shift.

    “I hope you’re not sleepy. I have plans for you.” She rubbed her fingers across my knuckles.

    “Why am I not surprised?” I asked, leaning over to kiss her. The car ahead of us moved about three feet forward and I followed before braking again.

     “It’s nice, having Maggie over, isn’t it?” I glanced over and saw Molly was still watching her sleep in the rearview mirror.

     “Yeah,” My voice felt too thick, too rough and I didn’t trust myself to say anything more. I'd been thinking all day about how nice it was, all of us together. I mean,  I saw Maggie pretty routinely.  Usually at least once a week for dinner at the Carpenters’ and a day or two for guitar lessons, plus the odd night here or there when she'd have one of her nightmares and I’d need to talk her down. We'd taken day trips together before too. But today was the first time that I’d really felt…comfortable. I’d felt like her father instead of just the guy who had slept with her mom. And when I had her and Molly both with me, no need to hide, it was too good for words. Family. I had a family. 

     “Have you ever thought about having her live with us?” Molly asked quietly. Her voice was soft, hesitant.

     Pretty much constantly, I thought. “A few times,” I said out loud. “I was already thinking about getting my own place so I could move her in with me before we got involved.”

     “'Involved’” She teased in a playfully mocking tone. “Do you still want that?”

     “Want it? Hell yeah.” I inched the car forward another few feet, eyes firmly on the road. “But I keep asking myself if it's the right thing to do.”

     “…Because of me?” She asked, sounding tired and resigned.

    “No. Because of me.” I thought for a moment. “Because of us. Because what life would we be able to provide her?”

    “You can give her a home, with love and family.”

    “She already has a home with love and family. And they’re a hell of a lot more stable than I am. Plus,  I don't know the first thing about taking care of kids or raising them, and she's already got Michael, Mr. Super Dad. How can I compete with that?” Despite my best efforts, my words came out harsh and bitter. I'd had this conversation with myself enough times and it always ended the same way. At the end of the day, did I want Maggie with me because it was what I thought was best for her, or just because it was best for me? 

     “It’s not a competition Harry. You're her dad. You'll always be her dad. If you want to take care of her full time, you should do it.” Her grip on my hand briefly tightened, reassuring. 

     I considered her words for a moment. I would have given anything to talk to my own dad right then, to ask his advice. I was pretty sure he'd say the same thing as Molly. But then again, it was easy for Molly to say that blood was the important factor in family. Her father was the best husband, father, and friend in the world. He had a literally divine knack for showing up exactly where and when he was needed. Who wouldn’t think that living with your biological father was the best option when your dad was Michael?  But I was willing to bet my brother, raised in a house of monsters with a father who routinely tried to kill him, thought otherwise.  That was an extreme example,  but…

      “She’s safe with Michael and Charity. With us? I've got more enemies than I can count. Even if she doesn't get caught in the crossfire from some attempt at my life, there's no shortage of people who would use her to get what they want from me.”

    “Those dangers exist no matter where she’s at. But you'll protect her, that's what you do. You'll keep her safe.”

    “Like I kept you safe?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

    “You have kept me safe, Harry.” She ran her hand up my arm, rubbing up and down. “I'm still here.”

     “I didn't keep you safe enough,” I growled and slammed the steering wheel with my fists. “Every time I've set out to protect someone it just ends with them in the hospital or the morgue. Or, I guess,  scrambling to hold on to the vestiges of their humanity.” I instantly regretted it, but Molly ignored the comment. 

    “You've set out to protect the entire city of Chicago, the entire world sometimes. You can't always keep everyone safe. You can't stop people from making their own choices. But that little girl? Don't tell me you wouldn't do anything to keep her safe. I know what you'd do, what you've already done.” She squeezed my shoulder.

      I was silent for a long time. We had crawled almost a mile before I spoke again. “Do you want her to live with us? I mean, it’s your house.”

    “It’s our house. Our home.” She withdrew her hand, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. “Honestly, the thought terrifies me. I'm…volatile. I've been better with you here but…I'm worried that given enough time I might be one of the things you need to protect her from.”

     “That would never happen, Molls, you know that.”

     “I don't know that, actually.” She gave a bitter laugh. “I love Maggie. I love her like she was one of my sisters. I like having her around. It's like having a mini you.”

     “Heaven help us all,” I muttered, drawing a laugh.

     “Today is the most normal I've felt without the piercings since I assumed the mantle. Being with you guys, I felt like a completely different person, but in a good way.”

     “I know what you mean. Like you're part of a family.”

     “Like I'm part of your family.” She paused for a moment before adding, “Like I'm a normal human again.” I moved my hand from the gear shift to her knee.

     “Just because you're not mortal doesn’t mean you're not human.” I reminded her. “But I understand. So, maybe we should?”

     “But we don't know the first thing about being parents. I'm not, I mean, look at me. I'm not capable of being someone’s parent or step-parent or whatever.”

     “You? You're great with her. I'm the one that still eats cereal for dinner and can't figure out when to keep my mouth shut. You’re half my age and still twice the adult.” I sighed “So, she's probably better off with your folks, right?”

     “At the end of the day, she’s not my daughter, even if…” She shook her head, evidently deciding against whatever she’d planned to say and continued on before I could ask. “Whether or not you want to raise her full time, that's your decision. God knows, a house with two servants of Winter is not ideal for anyone, least of all a child and there's a whole bunch of reasons why it’s a stupid idea.”

    “But?” I prompted. 

     It was her turn to sigh. “But doing stupid things because you listened to your gut and your heart is sort of your M.O. isn’t it? I mean, none of us would be here if you always did the logical thing.”

    “Maggie certainly wouldn’t be,” I smiled wryly. “You think she should live with us.”

    “I think you don’t have to make any decision tonight. I just wanted you to know, I'm okay with whatever you decide. I don't want to keep you from your daughter. If you want her to move in with us, we'll start rearranging the spare bedroom. If you…if you wanted your own place for just the two of you-”

     “Molls, I don't-”

    “If you do, I'm okay with that too. I mean, it might be what's best for her, to keep her away from me. And I…look, Maggie comes first, okay?”

     “Of course Maggie comes first. She will always come first with me.” I snapped.

     “I know, that’s what I’m trying to say.” She retorted in clipped tones. “Whatever you decide, whatever you think best, I just wanted you to know, I understand. I’m okay with it, you know? Or whatever. I’m just trying to be supportive.” She sighed in frustration and ran one hand unconsciously through her hair. It was an oddly enticing gesture.

     I thought about what she was saying. As much as I didn’t want to I understood. I understood what she was offering and why she was offering it and I wanted to dismiss it out of hand but part of me couldn’t. I could try to pretend that Molly was the same old girl I’d always known, but at the end of the day, she wasn’t. She was a Queen of Winter, and while it remained to be seen whether she was truly sidhe, she certainly had many of their mannerisms. She was dangerous, even if I tried to ignore it. I accepted that risk, that danger, because it was worth it. Even if things went awry in a big way, it would be worth the joy of being with her. Plus, what’s one more girlfriend trying to kill me?

     But it was different when it was Maggie on the other end of those risks. It was one thing to say “I want Maggie to live with me and the woman I love.” But put differently it was “I’ll let Maggie live with the Winter Knight and Winter Lady.” True, in my mind those titles still conjured different images, different people but…

     “No. I appreciate what you’re saying Molls but, no. I’m not going to move out. I’m not sure what we’re going to do yet but whatever we do, we'll decide it together and do it together.” I glanced back at Maggie,  still asleep despite my outburst. “Besides, it might not matter what we want. Who knows if she'll even want to-”

     “Of course she'll want to.” Molly smiled at me. “Harry,  that little girl is crazy about you. She'd follow you anywhere.”

     “How well did things work out for the last girl that did that?” I gave her a wry smile, but the question still hurt to ask. 

      “She was a different kind of crazy about you,” Molly said. Even in the dark of the car, I could see the flush tinging her cheeks. “But all things told, I'd say it worked out pretty well.  She's a Queen, with her Knight by her side, living happily ever after. It's like her own private fairy tale.”

    Maybe it was just exposure to it deadening my reactions.  Maybe I was starting to get more comfortable with the idea.  I wanted to be appalled, but instead, I was fighting a smile. “Don't let her hear you say that. They don't like it when you call them fairies.”

     “That’s only when mortals say it. That’s our word. I’m taking it back.”

     I pulled her hand to my lips, kissing the back of it. “Happily ever after, you say?”

    She nodded emphatically. “Absolutely. Happily ever after.”

     “So, does that mean we’re not going to fight about yesterday?” I asked hopefully. When she said nothing I sighed.  “They lived frequently happily ever after might be more accurate then.”

     “Happily ever after except for when the Knight does something stupid.” I didn't care for the heat in her tone.

      “Well, if the Queen’s unhappy anytime the Knight does something stupid, you might as well just say they lived ever after and leave out the happily.” I didn't bother hiding my irritation, gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. 

     “The Knight is just lucky that after yesterday I don't have to leave out the ‘lived’ part.” The windshield started to frost over and at the same time the heater gave a little pop and wheezed out a puff of smoke before it stopped blowing entirely. I raked one hand through my hair,  forcing myself to calm down. I didn’t want to get in a screaming match with Molly, especially not in the car with Maggie asleep in the back seat. I counted to ten. Then twenty. Then thirty. I got up to 163 when traffic started moving in earnest and I breathed a sigh of relief for the distraction.

     The frost had receded enough for me to see after a few spritzes of deicer and a couple of passes of the wipers.  As we exited the highway, I glanced over to find Molly hugging herself and staring out the window. I patted her knee, trying to be reassuring, but she ignored it. Great.

     Mouse nuzzled Maggie awake as we pulled up to the Carpenters’ house. It was bitter cold, cold enough that even I noticed it. Maggie and I were halfway up the walk when I realized that Molly hadn’t joined us.  I thought about trying to persuade her but felt my anger rising again at the thought.  Why should I have to persuade her to come inside and see her own family for a minute? If she wanted to sulk because I wanted to protect her, more power to her.

      Michael opened the door before we even made it onto the porch. Light spilled out, chasing away the shadows. Warmth washed over us, sending a shiver through me. The smell of cinnamon and nutmeg wafted through the open doorway, inviting and enticing. “Good to see you again, Harry,” Michael said, thumping me on the back as we stepped inside. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled at me, the laugh lines near his mouth deepening. “And Maggie. Happy birthday! Was it a good one?”

      “Yes!” She excitedly told him all about our day while she took off her shoes, placing them at the end of a neat row. Once that was done she scampered into the kitchen,  following the siren song (or smell) of whatever delicious dessert Charity had made. Michael peered out the door, then seeing Molly was still in the car, shot me a questioning look.

     “She's uh. She's in a mood.”

     “It’s good to know she hasn't changed that much then.” He said with a short chuckle. “Did you do something?”

    “No. Well. Yes. But I had to, whether she likes it or not.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “It's complicated.”

     “Ah. I would imagine a lot of things will be for the two of you.” He placed one hand on my arm. “Would you mind if I give you some advice?”

    “Why not? You always have before. I don't see why anything should change now.”

    “Because this time I'm giving it to you as Molly’s father, not as your friend. If you disregard my friendly advice, that's one thing. But if you disregard my advice with regards to my little girl,” He flexed the hand that rested on his cane. “Well, I’d really rather you listen and take it to heart.”

    I tried not to gulp. Angry fathers and monsters are a lot alike – never let them see that you’re afraid. “Uh sure, Michael. Of course.” Look at that, my voice didn't even tremble. Am I good or what?

    “Apologize.”

    “What?” I immediately scoffed at the idea. “You don't even know what she's upset about. If you were in my position you’d have done the same thing, and–”

     “I don't care.” He didn't raise his voice in any way, but there was something about the way he spoke that commanded attention and I shut up. “I'm not saying you should apologize for what you did. If it was the right thing to do, stand by that. I trust your judgment. But you should apologize for making her upset.”

    “But I–”

    “Harry. Trust me on this. You can argue about whatever this is until you're blue in the face. It's not going to accomplish anything. Molly already knows why you acted the way you did. She might even agree with it at the end of the day. But that doesn’t mean she has to like it. Tell her you’re sorry for upsetting her.”

      I ground my teeth and said nothing. I got away with that for about ten seconds while Michael fixed me with a stern disapproving dad stare before I caved. “I'll think about it.”

    “You'll do it.” He said it with the kind of calm certainty he used for matters of faith. He knew that I would. He lowered his voice a bit before continuing. “I’ve been in your shoes more than once with Charity. Trust me, you’ll apologize. The sooner you do it, the happier you’ll both be.”

     “…Thank you, Michael.” I didn't think an apology would cut it with Molly, and I seriously doubted that he'd ever been in my exact shoes. But I appreciated the advice either way. I glanced out the door then back at him. “Wish me luck?”

     He just smiled. “Good night, Harry. We’ll see you Sunday for dinner?”

    “Yeah, probably.” If we haven't killed each other by then.

    “We'll see you then. Maybe you could even come by earlier, come to church with us?”

     I rolled my eyes. “You know I’m not going to do that.”

     He shrugged. “The offer stands.” He hesitated for a moment, suddenly looking very much his age and somehow more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him. “Tell Molly, please? I know she… just tell her she’s invited if she wants to come?”

     I nodded dumbly, not trusting myself to speak. I really doubted that Molly would be attending services any time soon, and I could see that same doubt reflected in her father’s face. Pain gripped my heart and guilt followed soon after. How could I tell a man whose faith and family were everything to him that he no longer had to worry about his daughter’s mortal soul since she probably didn't still have one? “Yeah,” My voice was too quiet and I suspected Michael knew what I was thinking. “Yeah, I’ll tell her.”

     He nodded back, smiling weakly before pulling me into a tight embrace. I returned it awkwardly, patting him on the back. “Goodnight, Harry.”

    “Goodnight, Michael.” He shut the door behind me as I stepped back out onto the porch. After being inside the Carpenters’ house, the dark felt a little darker and the cold felt a little colder.

     I started up the car and drove a whole ten yards down the way to park in our driveway. Neither one of us said anything. We exited the car in silence and entered the house the same way. Molly moved woodenly, as if she were on autopilot. It was easy to tell that she wore no glamour. Her hair was flaxen and fell in graceful waves down her back. Her skin almost glowed in the near-darkness of the hallway as she took off her coat. The air around her hummed with power. 

      I moved around her, giving her space. The longer the silence drew on, the more irritated I grew. I heard her moving in the kitchen while I gathered up the pillows and blankets piled on the living room floor, returning the couch cushions to their rightful places. What right did she have to be angry at me? She’s the one that preemptively decided we were going to argue. I headed upstairs, dropping most of the linens into the laundry basket and putting the remaining ones back on the bed. So I wanted to be able to go with her when she got called away on “business trips”. Why was that such a big deal? Of course she didn’t need my help but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be helpful. I fluffed the pillows angrily, frowning at them (which, honestly wasn’t fair. The pillows were innocent in all this.) What had she expected? Even if we weren’t together, I’d have made the same deal. She never would have been in this mess if it weren’t for me. The least I could do was watch her back.

     Molly slipped into the room as I was smoothing out the comforter. She made no noise, but I could feel her presence. Energy buzzed through the room, invisible but so strong it was almost tangible, and the temperature noticeably dropped a few degrees. Some instinctive animalistic part of me recoiled in the face of that power, telling me that this was something much higher on the food chain and that I should get out now while I still had a chance. I had an equally instinctive and no less primal response to strike, to rise up and rage against the threat of subjugation, to establish my dominance. Mostly I just felt angry and tired and worn out.

     “Alright,” I sat down on the edge of the bed, taking off my boots. “Where do you want to start? Because honestly, I’m exhausted, my whole body hurts and I’m really not in the mood for this. Let’s just get it over with so we can go to bed.” Molly leaned against the wall. She had a steaming mug in her hand, some type of tea from the smell. She took a pensive sip, watching me with pale eyes. I refused to let it unnerve me. “So, what? Are you not talking to me now? Because that’s going to make this discussion twice as difficult.”

     She took another sip, eyes tracking my movements like a cat stalking its prey. My mantle advised me that the best way to keep from becoming prey was to act like a predator, in less elegant terms. Just when I was about to start screaming at her, she said “How many times do you have to make a deal with one of the sidhe before you learn your lesson? It’s a fixed game, Harry. You have to know that, right?”

     “It’s the only game in town,” I said with a shrug. “I’m not ever eager to make a deal, not even with regular mortals let alone sidhe Queens. But what was I supposed to do?”

     “Literally anything else.” She exclaimed, exasperated. “When the Queen Who Is shows up at your house in all black, and then summons you to Court, you grovel and bow and thank your lucky stars if she doesn’t kill you. Or worse.”

     “You must have me confused with some other guy. I don’t bow. Not for her or anyone else.”

     “Then you should call Kincaid right now and tell him to finish what he started.” I was too shocked to even be angry for a moment, both from what she said and from how she said it. Her words were harsh and her voice was cold, unlike anything I’d heard from her before. “You’re only prolonging the inevitable if you continue to play these games with her.”

     “Playing games? Is that what you think I’m doing?” The shock wore off and anger flooded back in twice as strong.

     “It’s what I know you’re doing, whether you intend it or not. You’re clever. Really clever for someone who makes such astoundingly bad decisions, actually. But you’re just not equipped to make deals with the fae, especially the Queens.”

     “It wasn’t a perfect deal, but I got what I wanted. I can hold my own.”

    “There are a hundred different ways she could exploit your deal, or that I could. Our minds don’t work the same way. I don’t have to think about how to word a deal to get the upper hand. I think of what I want and the words just come out right. You have virtually no hope of outwitting us. And do you want to know the worst part?”

    “Is it that I have to listen to more of this condescension?” I rolled my eyes, eliciting a hard exhale from her.

     “No, you fucking moron, it’s that she didn’t even have to do anything that clever to outwit you. You did it for her.”

    I frowned at that. “What are you talking about?”

    “If I had wanted you to come along on my missions, I would have asked. You’re my Knight too. I have the right to use your services as I see fit. You negotiated with the Winter Queen during the height of her power for something that was already possible, embarrassing yourself and me in the process.”

     “Oh, I'm so sorry to embarrass you,” I sneered. Rage screamed in my head, the mantle fighting for control. I needed to calm down. I couldn’t think. Couldn't process everything she was throwing at me. My own power was building up around me like a storm cloud, responding to her energy. Letting myself get angrier at that point was dangerous, but I couldn't stop it. “Maybe in the future don't hide important information from me and I won't do that.”

     “Maybe in the future, you should tell me your fucking batshit crazy ideas before you try them so I can tell you when they're bad plans. Spoiler alert: Always!” She started yelling and I knew there was no turning back at that point. There would be no peaceful resolution.

    “What can I say? Apparently, I’ve got a thing for batshit crazy!” I shouted back. She screamed with rage and threw her mostly-empty coffee mug at my head. I ducked just in time and it smashed against the wall over the headboard.  It shattered into pieces and before my brain could catch up to my body, I had grabbed the largest shard and lunged at her. One fist slammed into the wall beside her head and the ceramic shard pressed against her throat. Two full moon eyes stared at me, wine-red lips peeled back in a too-toothy smirk. 

     “Do you think I'm afraid of you, Harry?” She turned her head slightly, baring more of her slender white neck. “Go ahead, do it then.” My mind was a blur of chaos, and I fought a losing battle for control. The back of my brain was screaming in abject horror, but there was ice in my veins and a storm in my heart. I pressed the shard harder, drawing a trickle of blood. I watched it drip down her alabaster skin, watched the pulse that lay beneath jumping with fear – no – excitement. She was breathing shallowly, trying to keep as still as possible. A dark thrill ran through me and I knew she felt it too. If I pressed just a little harder….blood welled up against the jagged edge of ceramic and she made a small noise that wasn’t exactly pleasure but wasn’t exactly pain either. The red heat of her life force spilled over the improvised knife, running down my hand and arm. I wanted to taste it, to bathe in it. I wanted to sink my teeth into her flesh and tear. I wanted – the sight of my bloody hands brought me back in an instant. A world gone mad. Leathery black skin and a whimpering child. Susan…

Chapter Text

     All at once reality rushed in and I dropped the shard of the coffee mug, my hands shaking. My stomach heaved, threatening revolt, and I stared aghast at Molly. Blood continued to flow freely down her throat, soaking into the collar of her pure white shirt. Her expression was conflicted, equal parts sympathy and disappointment. “You see? You carry the mantle but you’re too afraid to use it.”  

      I bristled. “I could have killed you just now and I’d have enjoyed it. Reining that in isn't cowardice,  it's being prudent.”

     “You don't listen at all. You could have tried to kill me. You wouldn't have succeeded.” She placed one hand on my chest, just over my heart, looking every bit the tender lover for half a second before she met my eyes, and then suddenly I was thrown across the room. I landed on the other side of the bed, flat on my ass with my head on the ground and my feet on the edge of the mattress. I scrambled to my feet and saw her standing in the same spot. She hadn’t even moved her hand. “I don’t need you to coddle me anymore, Harry. I don’t need your protection.” She snarled as I stumbled around the edge of the bed toward her. My head spun, either from hitting the floor or from standing too quickly, maybe both, but I navigated just fine.

    “It’s not about need, Molly.” I snapped. “Hells bells, wanting to go with you has nothing to do with protecting you.” She raised her hand slightly and I raised both of mine in a placating gesture. “Fine, it’s about protecting you, but not because I think you're not strong or capable enough to handle…whatever you do on your own. I just want to be there to help.”

     “I don't want your help!” She roared. “You’re not…you wouldn’t even be able to help.”

    “Yeah, I’m pretty useless, what with being a wizard and the Winter Knight and all. That couldn't ever come in handy.”

    She laughed bitterly. “Are you really the Winter Knight, Harry? You wear the mantle, you hold the title but you refuse to use the power.”

    “Did you see what happened just now?” I shouted.  “I refuse to let the power use me. All the power in the world is no good if I only want to fuck, fight and kill when I'm using it.”

     “Maybe you should have checked the job description before you applied,” She was looking at me, but her hands started slowly undoing the buttons on her shirt, one by one from the bottom up. I tried not to notice. She caught me noticing anyway and smirked. “Fucking, fighting and killing is exactly what the Winter Knight is supposed to do.”

     “I've always managed to do all three just fine without the mantle before.” I felt cool anger enveloping me again and let it trickle out in my words. “Unless you've got complaints about the way I...fight?”

     That maddening smirk returned, so cold and out of place on my lover’s face. “You are who you are. I wouldn't want to change you.” I gritted my teeth. 

    “Then why are you trying so hard to goad me into losing control?”

    Her eyes softened a little, surprised but pleased that I saw through her, I think. “Just proving my point.” She ran one hand over her hip, dragging her fingers lightly up her stomach, leaving trails of scarlet along the way, until they toyed with the next button. A rush of lust hit me hard and my fingers twitched, itching to finish the job for her. “I am who I am as well. When I'm on a mission, I don't hide from my power. I’m Lady Molly of Winter and I carry those responsibilities with me.”

    “Is there a point buried somewhere in there?”

     “You can be impossibly dense sometimes. The point is that I can’t afford to look weak or to make our Court look weak.”

     “So, what, you don’t want me to come with you because you want to prove that you can hold your own on the job?” She heaved an exasperated sigh and realization dawned on me. I laughed in disbelief. “No, you’re saying you don’t want me to come with you because…you’re saying I’m weak? Is that it? I would make you look weak?”

     She gave me a cool eye, her lips pursed. “For the work I do? Yes.”

     “You have got to be kidding me!” The bulb in the bedside lamp exploded, plunging us into darkness, and I realized I’d instinctively drawn in my power, ready to demonstrate exactly how 'weak' I was. “Hells fucking bells,” I muttered. “Flickum bicus.” There were a few candles scattered throughout the room, for just such an occasion, and they jumped to life. It wasn’t enough to light the room well, but it was better than pure darkness.

    “Harry,” Molly’s voice had softened a bit, and she sounded almost hesitant. “It's not…I don’t mean…”

    “No, please, spare my delicate feelings. I’m awfully weak, after all. I can’t take it.” I was being unreasonable and I didn’t care. Weak? I was a heavyweight champion of magic. Even before the mantle, I was one of the most powerful wizards alive.

    “Oh don’t get all macho on me.” She snapped. “We both know what you’re capable of. I’ve seen the things you’ve done. This isn't about that.”

    “So then what is it about? I’m getting a little tired of talking in circles.”

    “You should probably find a normal, mortal girlfriend then. See if Karrin’s still available, or hey, Elaine hasn’t seen you in a while.”

    I pinched the bridge of my nose, where a headache was steadily forming. “Your point. Get to it. Now.”

    “Or what? What will you do?” She stepped forward until our faces were almost touching. “You’ll yell at me? Will you hit me? Hurt me?” Her eyes glinted menacingly by the candlelight.

    “No. I’ll go to sleep and try to have this conversation again tomorrow when you’re less…” I made a vague gesture at her. “Sidhe-y.”

    “You mean when I hold back? When I hide what I really am from you?” She shook her head. “If you can’t stand a simple argument, how would we possibly make it on a mission?” She caressed my face, something she’d done a thousand times before, but the touch felt alien and I flinched away on reflex. “That’s my point, Harry. You can’t handle Winter. You’re not suited for round-about conversations, or cold, practical actions.” She ran her hands up my back, her fingernails dragging against my skin, and she pulled my t-shirt up with it. It felt like a violation, in this context, but I didn’t stop her. “It hurts you to see me like this, doesn’t it? I see it sometimes when you look at me.”

    She took that moment to yank my shirt over my head and I assisted, struggling out of it, before responding. “What do you want me to say? Of course, it hurts.”

    “This is what you’d be working with. It’s not going to be like the good old days, where you threw fire at things and I ran backup. When I’m fulfilling my duties, I’m not your sweet little Molly.” Her fingers kneaded my shoulders, applying just a little too much pressure. It made me tense rather than relaxing me but if she noticed she didn’t care. “I’m the future Queen. Maeve may not have taken that seriously but I do. After her, I can’t afford to be anything less than the full Winter Lady.”

   “I wouldn’t expect you to be,” I said through gritted teeth. She hit a nerve and my knees went weak for a moment before steadying.

    “Oh, but you would.” She turned me around wordlessly to continue her assault on my shoulder blades. As soon as I bared my back to her my skin started crawling and I had to remind myself that, no, Molly was not going to actually stab me in the back. She was not a predator…or at least I wasn’t going to be a target. “The things I’ve had to do…the things I’ve willingly done…”

    “Like Alaska?” I guessed. It was a shot in the dark but her hands stilled for a moment before she continued.

    “You wouldn’t approve. If you knew half of what I was doing, you’d stop me. You’d have to.” She had worked her way down to my lower back and the discomfort had turned to a sweet pain. My body ached from her touch, in more ways than one.

    “That wasn’t an answer to my question.”

    “It was and it wasn’t.” I could hear her smile.

    “That’s infuriating, you know,” I growled.

    “Yes, I’d imagine so.” She pressed her lips to the base of my neck. They were so cold it burned. “So is that tired sexism you call chivalry, but you don’t hear me complaining about it.” She continued kissing a line down my spine.

    “So is your plan to distract me with sex any time a serious conversation comes up? Because that’s going to be a problem for me.” I was in a predicament here. On the one hand, I really wanted to continue this argument until we’d hashed it out or at least until I’d gotten out my anger. On the other hand, her distraction was working pretty well, and my body was suggesting that shouting was not the only way to work out my aggression.

    “I don’t need to distract you. We’ve already said all that needs to be said on the subject. I’m not taking you with me on any Winter business. End of discussion.” Her body pressed against me from behind and her hands came around my waist, undoing the button on my jeans.

    “No, it’s not.” I grabbed hold of her wrists, stilling her. “Not until you give me a good reason for keeping me away.”

     “I’m the Lady. You’re my Knight. I don’t owe you an explanation of my decisions.” I twisted, switching my grip on her wrists. I looked her in the eyes and could feel the fire building in me.

    “Bullshit. You’re my partner and I’m yours. That comes before any title. You want me to stay on the sidelines, you better have a damn good reason for it, kid.”

    I watched her jaw tense, and she pulled her hands from my grip effortlessly. “Because you think like that.” She snapped. “Because you’re too soft for the work we do. Because there’s no room for moral grandstanding when it comes to our missions. And most importantly,” She kicked my leg out from under me and I went down to one knee. “Because I’m your Queen, and my wish is your command, Knight.”

    “With all due respect,” I snarled, looking up into her eyes. “Go fuck yourself.”

    “I think I’d rather you do it, while you're already on your knees.” I was beyond anger, somewhere that surpassed livid and irate, consumed by rage on a level that I’d rarely experienced before. I was in pain,  physically and otherwise,  wounded in more ways than I could count, down to my very spirit. I stared up at her haughty expression and the floodgates to Winter burst open inside me. I welcomed it in like an old friend.  If she wanted to play the Winter Lady card and pull rank so be it. I'd show her how to play.

    I swiped for her leg, but she must have been expecting it, her reflexes as quick as mine. She sidestepped away from my grasp and delivered a swift kick to my ribs. I responded by hurling myself at her and managed to wrestle her down to the ground with me. “That's it, keep struggling,” My own voice sounded strange, harsh and manic, as I leveled each word between gnashing teeth.  “I like a woman with some fight in her.” She drove one knee up, aiming for my crotch, but I blocked her with my leg.  Now that I had her down, I worked my way over her, pinning both of her arms at her side. 

     “Oh please, I'm supposed to believe that you're going to have your way with me?” She snorted.  

    “Believe whatever you want. But I'm tired of playing games with you.” I held up one hand for her to see and the candlelight glinted off of crystal claws. I thought I saw a ripple of fear cross her face before quickly disappearing. “I'm going to get exactly what I want from you tonight. Starting with answers.”

     Molly rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay. You were almost paralyzed with guilt after we pretended to do this last night but sure, I’m really–” I backhanded her.

    “Shut up. Unless I ask you a question, just shut up! “ She reared up with a howl, getting her hands free and pushing against my chest. I shoved her back roughly, covering her mouth with my own. Her lips tasted sweeter when they were stolen.  She caught my bottom lip between her teeth and bit hard enough to draw blood.

    “So you finally want to play?” She purred when I pulled back. I ran my tongue over the wound, catching the droplets of blood that welled up. My lips were stained red and I gave her a toothy grin.

     “Playtime is over. Now it’s my turn.” I pinned her arms against her sides again, under the weight of my legs.  Her fingers clawed at me, but I barely registered it.  I pushed her face aside with one hand, mushing her against the carpet. Starting just behind the ear, I dragged an icy claw down the line of her neck. A fine red line appeared beneath my touch and she gasped aloud when I reached the thin skin stretched over her collar bone. “Now you’re starting to understand. You try to pull rank, but you know I can have you whenever I want.”

     “Treacherous knave,” Molly snarled, the heat in her voice somewhat diminished by the way her words were garbled from having her face half-buried in the rug. “I am your Queen. I could kill you right now if I wanted to.”

     “Not before I ripped out your throat.” I laid one clawed hand over the soft white flesh there. So easy to just apply a little pressure and then I'd be bathing in her blood.  There was power there, just under the skin, and it could be mine if I took it from her. I felt her breathing quicken and could smell fear on her. It was intoxicating and if I wasn’t already fully erect it would have guaranteed it. “Tell me, little Queen,” I pushed her harder into the ground, felt her fragile cheekbones grinding under my hand. “What secrets are you keeping from me?”

      “If I told you,” she grunted, trying with all her apparent strength to push me off her, “They wouldn't be secrets.”

    “Cute.” I tightened the hand around her throat, choking her slightly. The tips of my claws sunk sweetly into her flesh. “Tell me about Alaska,”

    “Make me.” She gasped. I squeezed harder, cutting off her oxygen supply completely. 

    “Tell me.” Her eyes bugged and she struggled harder to no avail. I stopped just short of her passing out. After all, if she wasn’t conscious I couldn’t hear her scream. I let go and she took a gasping breath. She was a mess. Her neck and throat were bloody from my claws and apparently, there had been remnants of the former mug under her face on the carpet because her cheek was cut up underneath the purpling imprint of my hand. “Now I’m going to ask you questions, and if you give me wordplay instead of answers, I’m going to make you regret it, do you understand?”

      “Oh no. I’m so scared.” Her voice was rough.

      “What makes you think I can’t help on a mission?” I asked, ignoring her.

      “Common sense and experience.” She sneered. I backhanded her again.

     “Wrong. Try again. Why don’t you want me to come with you on your missions?”

      “They’re my missions. I can choose who does and doesn’t accompany me as I please.” Another backhand.

     “Last chance. Thrice I ask, why?” She stared at me for a moment, backed into her corner. Her lip was split and her eyes glowed with hatred. I slashed down through the remaining buttons of her shirt and bared her breasts, tracing her areola with a razor-sharp claw. She gasped, eyes welling against her will.

    “I already told you. You would get in the way. You’d interfere with our business.” She hissed. “Now let me fucking go before I make you let go.”

     I shifted, continuing my slow drag down her body. She squirmed when I reached her belly and I lingered there, running my hand back and forth. “What happened in Alaska?”

     “Harry, I told you I don’t want to talk about it.”

      “And I told you I want answers.” I ripped her skirt away.

      “Too fucking bad. Let me go. We’re done with this conversation.”

      “I thought you wanted this?” I growled, drawing crimson lines across one milky white thigh, eliciting a harsh gasp. “You told me not to hide from my mantle, that I’m just here to fight, kill and fuck.” Her panties went next, and she tensed when I drew close to her sex. “What’s wrong, lover? I thought you had sharper tastes?”

    “I guess I just prefer it when I can nail you instead,” and with that, she dug the fingernails of both hands, grown till they were almost talons, into my thighs. I yowled, rearing back on instinct and she wasted no time, lunging toward me and tackling me to the ground. I snarled and she slugged me across the face. “This is your place, Knight. Don't ever forget it.” She took hold of my wrists, trying to pin me like I'd pinned her yesterday but her hands were too small to use just one, and she struggled to keep me from pushing her aside.

     “You still haven't answered my question.”

     “And I'm not going to!” She yelled.  “Now let it go.” Sweat was forming on her brow from the effort of keeping me restrained. I let loose a dark chuckle and stopped struggling entirely. With a wuff of surprise, she fell on top of me. I rolled, using her grip on my arms as leverage and wound up on top of her again. 

      “I told you, you’re more powerful now, but you still aren't stronger when we're both using our full power. I will have what I want.”

     A slow smile spread across her face. “Oh honey, did you think I’ve been using my full power?  This isn't even a tenth of what I can do. I didn't want to hurt you but if you insist.” She brought up her head suddenly, cracking her skull against mine. I flew up, my back slamming against the ceiling.  I came down in a confusion of limbs and pain,  thankfully landing knees first rather than head first. She didn't give me a moment to orient myself before throwing me back against the bedroom door.  My pants had come down in the struggle and I almost tripped over them where they pooled around my ankles. I stepped out of them as gracefully as possible and charged at Molly. She waved her hand dismissively and I was slammed into the closet. “You’re not a threat to me, Harry. You never could be.”

     “Then what are you so afraid of?” I yelled, charging back toward her again. She made another deflecting gesture, but I dodged. She muttered something that I didn’t quite catch and suddenly fire erupted in the middle of the floor between us. I drew up short and she laughed, hurling me back across the room with another gesture. The flames went out just as suddenly as they appeared and I realized it had been an illusion.

     “Why do I have to be afraid? Perhaps I just don’t want to share my personal business with you.”

     “Then maybe you should find a different boyfriend. Is Nelson still available? I bet you two would hit it off really well now. Or at least hit up someone closer to your age, like Ramirez.” She faltered, stunned, and I grinned. I hadn’t expected that to hurt her quite so much but I was glad for the opportunity. I was across the room in a moment, grabbing her hands. As I had the night before, I bound her with the chain from my pentacle before she could stop me. She hissed and I pressed my body against hers. “Tell me about Alaska, my Queen.”

      “It’s cold there.”

      I laughed. Now that we were so close, our skin touching, the delicious scent of her arousal filled my nostrils. “You can’t fool me, I know what you want.” I placed open-mouthed kisses along her neck, lapping up the blood with my tongue. She shivered and made a quiet moan. “I know what you always want. And I’m prepared to give it to you, as soon as you tell me what I want to know. I ask again, tell me about Alaska.”

    She moaned again as I ground myself against her. “You can’t actually see Russia from it, no matter what the politicians say.” She gasped out. “Please, Harry, if you already know, why do I need to say it?”

     Somewhere in the back of my mind, the part of my brain that had been hiding at the ‘atrocities’ I was committing sat up and took notice. She thinks we already know what happened? Why? A minute ago she wasn’t going to tell us anything, what changed? But the mantle just snarled. More tricks from the little fairy, eh? “Fine, you want to keep playing games, let’s play.” I flipped her around and shoved her against the bed, wrenching her arms behind her back.

     “Why? Just let it go, Harry. It doesn’t concern you.” As she spoke, I melted my claws with a bit of concentrated effort and removed my boxers.

     I yanked her hair until her back was bowed and I bent over her to peer into her face. “Last chance, tell me now and I’ll make it easy.”

   “No thanks, I think I prefer the hard way.” She snarled. I was disturbed at the Cheshire grin that spread across my face.

    “Oh Grasshopper, I’m so glad you said that. Because there’s something I’ve been thinking about doing to you for a long time.” I let go of her hair and kicked her legs apart. The only thing keeping her standing was her precarious balance on the bed and my hands clutching her hips. I hauled one hand back and smacked it against the soft swell of her ivory ass cheek. Molly made a delightful noise of shock and pain, followed by a shuddered whimper. I waited until she’d just barely caught her breath and laid into the other side, eliciting a louder grunt. “Just remember, you chose this, My Queen.”

     I drove myself into the hot shaft of her tight asshole, and I think it overloaded the pleasure center of my brain. She screamed, the pure anguish of the sound driving me to greater heights. I moved within her and each movement elicited a new gasp or cry. “What’s wrong, didn’t you want the hard way?” I growled and slammed into her over and over with all the force I could muster, holding her hips tightly.

    “I-I…ungh.” She was crying, I noted with pleasure.

     “What’s that?” I snarled. “I couldn’t hear you.”

     She gasped in pain again, biting off a wail. “I said, are you in yet?”

     I jerked on her hair again and picked up the pace. Despite her complaints, I found after a few minutes that she was moving back against me in rhythm to my thrusts. Some tension that I wasn’t consciously aware of relaxed and I drove myself harder against her. A pleasure so sharp it almost burned infused my every limb. I felt like I’d be consumed by liquid fire but I was too close to stop. My cock ached and I desperately sought release, plunging into her in a frenzy. I lost all sense of presence. It didn’t matter who we were, what we’d been doing. I knew it had felt important but that seemed so ridiculous now. All that mattered was this, this infinite moment of pure satisfaction and bliss. The connection of my skin and body with hers.

       When I came, it was like awaking after an unexpected nap – uncertain of where you are or how long you’ve been out. Had it been hours, days, years? Who knew. I was back to my usual self, and it took me a minute while I caught my breath to realize why that was important. I looked down at Molly, blood smeared over her back, hands bound, my dick slowly going limp inside of her. It came back to me like a bad nightmare and I stumbled backward.

     Molly whimpered when I pulled out. “Have you had your fill yet?” She called back, traces of amusement in her tone.

     “Oh god, Molls,” I scrambled, unwrapping her wrists. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I repeated it over and over, too in shock to say anything else. As soon as she was free she eased herself around to face me, wincing. “God, I’m a monster, what have I–”

    “Shut up. Later.” She kissed me fiercely, wrapping her arms around my neck. She pulled back, panting, and looked at me with desperate red-rimmed eyes. “God, I need you, right now.”

     I nodded wordlessly and eased her back onto the bed. She kept both arms wrapped around my neck and I kept one around her shoulders. My mind was racing, and I didn’t think it was likely that I’d be able to get myself past half-mast at best, so I used my free hand. I started slow and gentle, a contrast to what we’d just done, but found her already warmed up and ready to go. It didn’t take long before she was gasping and panting with desire. I saw with a panic that she was still crying and almost stopped but she looked at me with her sweet baby blues and an adoring smile and I kept going. She clung to me when her climax took her, pressing her lips against mine until her limbs went limp and for some time after.

      When she finally pulled away, my heart ached at the sight of her. “Stars and stones, Molly,” I whispered. It was hard to tell where the bruises ended and the blood started on her face. I immediately started crying, unable to even look at her.

    “Harry, I’m so sorry.” She said quietly, unshed tears in her own voice. She ran her hand over my (very tender, I noticed) ribs, my still-bleeding thighs.

    “You have nothing to apologize for. I,” I swallowed, trying to force the words out of my throat. “I violated you. I hurt you. I…Molls, I could have killed you. Over a stupid argument.”

    “Hey, look at me.” Her tone was sharp and I did, not quite meeting her eyes. “We both got carried away. But…I meant what I said. You can’t kill me. You can’t hurt me against my will, Harry. If I had wanted to, I could have stopped you, okay?”

    “But I…you were screaming and…”

     She flushed. “You know how it feels when you let the mantle take over? Those desires?”

     I shivered. “Yeah?” After tonight, I knew them all too well.

     “That’s part of Winter. And for me, Winter always has at least one hand on the wheel. I um…” She hesitated then in a quiet voice said. “I liked it.”

    “You liked…what?”

    “Um. All of it.” Molly traced the mark I’d left with the ceramic shard on her neck. It was already fading to nothing but a white line. “I liked you taking what you wanted.”

     I tried to decide if my stomach was squirming with desire or the need to vomit. The feelings were fighting to decide which won out. “I wasn’t in control, Molly. That wasn’t me. I was just–”

     “I hate to break this to you, Harry but yeah, it was. The mantle increases your impulses, like rage and lust and aggression, but it’s not like being possessed. You’re not a puppet for the mantle. It just amplifies what’s already inside you.” She ran her hand gently down my chest and it was her turn to look away. “But umm. If it was anyone’s fault, it was mine.”

     “What? No, I should be able to control myself.”

     “Yeah, about that.” She became suddenly fascinated by a spot on the ceiling just over my left shoulder, refusing to look at me. “So, you know how the Knight has different responsibilities to each Queen?”

    “Uh, yeah, I think Bob said something about that once. I'm supposed to be Mab’s hitman for anything she needs done outside of the Court. Presumably, I have similar duties for you and Mother Winter if you ever decide to call on them.”

    “Exactly,” It was hard to tell under the bruising (which was thankfully already fading) but it looked like she was blushing.  “And um, did Bob tell you what the Knight’s responsibility is to his Lady?”

     “No. I just assumed it was to be something like her companion and bodyguard from what I've seen of Fix. He and Lily were always together, and Lloyd and Maeve had their own special….relationship.”

     “Maeve and Slate hated each other with a passion that would rival the sun,” Molly said calmly. “And they also fucked like very angry, aggressive, violent rabbits.”

    “Huh. You learn something new every day. I mean, I sort of got that vibe from them but it seemed like Maeve would sleep with anything that moved so…”

    Molly laughed. “I’m sure she wanted to. But that’s not the point. The point is you’re partially right. The Knight is usually in the company of his Lady, as her bodyguard and her companion and umm,” She swallowed. “Her consort.”

     I blinked. “Her what?”

     “You know. Her uh, lover?” She winced as she said it, as if she expected me to get mad.

     “Oh. Okay, so I guess that explains why this wasn’t such a big deal to the Queen. Heh. At least there’s one Knightly duty that I’m in favor of.” I grinned and winked at her.

     Molly fought to hide her smile. “Yes and no. We’re not supposed to date, you’re just supposed to erm, help scratch my itches?”

     I considered it. “Which is why you kept your wording neutral when talking to the Queen yesterday. It’s expected that we’ll sleep together, but you don’t want her to know that we have feelings for each other.” I thought some more. “And I ruined it by making it very obvious that I have feelings for you multiple times, which is part of why you’re so upset with me.”

    “So you can figure things out on your own,” she teased. “Yes, it’s a little late to maintain that you don’t have any feelings for me but I think I have her convinced that it’s one-sided, that you have feelings for me, but I’m using you for sex.” I frowned and she quickly added “No, captain paranoia, I’m not actually just with you for the sex. I love you, idiot.”

    “I knew that,” I said. But it didn’t hurt to hear her say it again. “But that doesn’t explain how it’s your fault that I Hulked out.”

    She flushed again. “Well, I noticed that your mantle responds to my mantle. Like calling to like, you know? And um, well, the more upset I get the more my power grows and the more my power grows the less control I have over it and...I sort of accidentally…intentionally…used my power to activate yours.”

    “Oh.” I blinked again. I mean, I knew she’d been goading me on but, magically manipulating my mantle was, hell, depending on how you viewed it not only was it immoral but it might also be in violation of the laws of magic. I wasn’t sure quite how to feel about it. “Why?”

    She winced before she even spoke and kept up that expression. “Oh god. Um. Because I was pissed off and upset which means I had less control and the less control I have the more I want to err, well, do what we just did, and it seemed like a good distraction and I wasn’t thinking clearly and I’m really sorry, I just–” I took her face in my hands and kissed her until I could feel her smile under my own.

     “I’m sorry, for yesterday,” I said, distantly remembering my conversation with Michael earlier and making a note to thank him properly. “I should have just said that from the beginning. I’m not, that is to say, I don’t regret my actions. I made the best decisions I could with the knowledge at hand. But I’m sorry that I didn’t stop to talk to you first and,” I thought over our conversations, our argument, her reactions, and expressions, “I’m sorry that I worried you. I can’t promise I won’t do it again. I can almost guarantee that I will.” She laughed at that, chasing away tears. “But I’m sorry either way.”

    “Who said I was worried?” Molly scoffed, but she nuzzled her head against mine affectionately, relaxing visibly.

    “Yeah, okay Molls.” I kissed her forehead. “Are you okay?”

    “Never better. Don’t worry about me. I like it rough and I heal quickly. Are you okay?”

    “I’ll tell you once I’ve processed…everything.” I worked at a knot of tension that had formed between her shoulder blades, eliciting a soft hum of pleasure. “Hey, Molls?”

    “Mmm?”

    “I don’t want to start arguing again, but…what exactly do you do as Winter Lady?”

    “It’s a lot of attending meetings and functions, parties, auctions, things like that. I’m sort of the figurehead for Winter so that the Queen can stay on the front lines where she’s needed the most.”

    “And what else?” She was silent, purposely looking away. “Come on, you come home with bruises and ruined clothes all the time. Those must be some wild parties if that’s all you’re doing.”

    “You know we party hard in Winter. Didn’t you murder a bunch of people at your birthday party the year before last?” Molly teased.

    “Only a few. And how do you know about that?”

    “I was there. I mean, not me but the Winter Lady. I can…remember isn’t the right word. It’s kind of like Googling something.” I stared at her blankly. “Err. It’s like accessing microfiche?” She got a distant look for a minute then arched an eyebrow at me. “I think maybe I should try that outfit on. The one with the diamonds?”

     I choked on air, my cheeks heating. “I don’t think you should wear anything that touched Maeve. Ever.”

     “Because of the risk of contagion?”

    “Because of the risk of herpes.” I continued kneading her back. “But that’s not the point. You don’t want me to come with you on missions, at least in part because you think I won’t approve, right?”

     “I know you won’t.” She agreed sadly.

     “So, what do you do?”

     She sighed heavily, sitting up and running her hands through her hair. “I help our citizens, resolve disputes, protect our lands, quash rebellions, collect tribute. It’s different every time.”

    “When do you save the princess from the dragon?” I asked. She smiled indulgently. “Okay, but so far that all sounds fine.”

  “That’s because I didn’t get too specific and you don’t really know or understand Winter Law.” Molly chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. “I…how much do you know about what happened in Alaska?”

     “Nothing, other than the fact that you apparently went there and you were more cautious afterward.”

     “Oh. But you said – you haven't talked to Carlos?”

     “Ramirez? A few times for Council business. He's doing okay, last I heard. Still doing physical therapy, but he's out of the wheelchair now. Why?”

     Molly looked like she was going to be sick. “Out of the wheelchair, huh? That's good. Good for him. I just thought he might have mentioned…” She drew an unsteady breath. “He sort of helped me on my first assignment as the Winter Lady.”

     “Which I'm guessing was in Alaska?” A few tears rolled down her cheeks and she nodded wordlessly, obviously pained. “Molly, look, if you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to talk about it.”

    “No, it’s okay. I just didn’t know he’d been in a wheelchair.” She took a couple of steadying breaths. “I’m glad he’s doing well.” More tears. “It was my fault, y’know? His ‘accident’.”

     The hair on the back of my neck stood up. “Did it have something to do with your assignment? I mean, you weren’t sent there to hurt him or anything, right?”

     “No, of course not.” She quickly assured me. “That would violate the Accords. And while I’m not a big fan of the White Council, I wouldn’t willingly hurt a Warden, especially not Carlos.”

    “Hey,” I protested, not comfortable with the way she practically purred his name. “I'm sitting right here.”

    “Don’t worry. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Even if I was interested, I don’t think he’ll ever want to see me again.” She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Anyway, I’m getting off track. You wanted to know what I do? That first assignment is a perfect example.” She laid out the story in vague terms, struggling in a few places to get around the restrictions imposed by the mantle. It was enough for me to get the gist – She’d rescued children from being sacrificed only to turn around and tear them from their parents, sending them to train for the endless war. “That’s what tribute is for Winter. Everyone has to contribute.”

   I let everything sink in for a minute before responding. “That’s a lot of responsibility to rest on your shoulders. It must be hard.”

     “It gets easier with time, which also makes it harder because it really should be a hard choice. But the mantle makes it simple – better to sacrifice a few dozen younglings than to lose all of existence to Outsiders. And the people I’m collecting from usually get that too. They're part of Winter. No one likes it but…” She shrugged.  When I said nothing she added “That's just an example. Those are the kind of decisions I have to make, the things I have to do. That's why I don't want you coming with me, Harry. Because I can't stand to have you look at me like the monster that I am.”

     “You're not a monster.” I drew her closer, cradling her against my chest.

     “You're only saying that because you're not required to pay tribute,” Molly stated, hollowly. “You'd think differently if I was coming to collect Maggie.”

     She wasn't wrong. If someone tried to take Maggie from me, it wouldn't matter if it was a Queen of Faerie or Almighty God Himself, I’d fight with every last breath in my body to stop it. I’d almost lost her once, before I'd even known her, I wasn’t going to let that happen again.

     It was a few minutes before I could speak. “I understand.” I rubbed up and down her back with one hand, reassuring both of us that I was still here. “I'm still coming with you.”

     “No. Harry, it's one thing to know I'm doing these things, it's another to see them.” She clutched tightly at my arm. “You'll try to stop me and I can't stop. I don't want to fight you.”

    “Is that what happened between you and Ramirez? Did he try to stop you?”

   “No, he was…” She stopped and shook her head. “I fucked up, really bad. I didn't understand the mantle yet and Carlos paid the price for my inexperience…If it’s alright with you, I'd rather not talk about it. I mean, I will but–”

     “No,” I said quickly. “No, that's fine. We all make mistakes. If you don't want to relive it,  I understand.” I took a deep breath. “But I am coming with you on your next assignment.”

     “No, you're not.” Molly sounded as tired as I felt. “You can say it as many times as you want but it's my decision to make and I'm not letting you tag along.”

     I shrugged. “Then I'll follow you anyway.”

     She laughed. “That isn't how the deal went, remember? Maybe you could have done that before you negotiated with the Queen but now you're specifically only allowed to come along if I give the okay. And I don't.”

     I gave her a level look, my face grim. “Then I guess I’ll have to break the deal.  Because I'm coming with you.”

     All color drained from her face. “You can't. You'll lose your power, your mantle.”

    “Yeah. My spine will probably be broken again. That's what happened the last time I tried to defy Winter Law.” I never broke eye contact. “You probably don't want me falling through a portal into the Nevernever with a broken back and no magic, but it's up to you.”

    She stared in disbelief for a moment, then shook her head.  “You’re not bluffing, are you?”

    “Only one way to find out,” I told her, nonchalantly. 

     “You are the king of stubborn idiots. Of course you're not bluffing.” She closed her eyes tightly, swearing under her breath. “Damn you. Please don't make me do this, Harry. I don't want to lose you.”

     “Molly, I'm not going anywhere.” I gave a light laugh.  “You can't scare me away. I love you.”

     “Fine.” She grumbled. “One assignment. But promise me that after that, if I don't think you should come with me on more, you'll respect my wishes.”

     “You told me not to make any promises with you.”

     “You told me I didn't scare you.” She squeezed my arm. “This is just doubling down on the oath you already made.”

    I weighed my words carefully. “I promise, once we've gone on one assignment together, that I won't try to join you on any future missions if you can honestly tell me that you'll be better off without me there.”

    “That's not what I said,” She told me with a smile.

    “No, but it's what I can promise.” I returned her smile. “You know me well enough to understand that.”

   “I do.” Molly agreed. I bit my tongue to keep from telling her that I liked the way those words sounded on her lips. Too soon, Harry. Way too soon. “Fine, I agree to your terms,  jerk.” She kissed me and I felt the same tingle of power that I’d felt the night before. 

     “Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I have had a very long couple of days. I am going to curl up in these sheets and sleep for the next decade or so.” I closed my eyes and resolved that I wasn’t going to move again ever. My body ached in ways both pleasant and painful. I was completely exhausted. Nothing short of an emergency was going to make me leave this bed.

    “Oh, that’s a shame.” Molly drawled, climbing over me to stand up. “Because see, I’m absolutely filthy, and I was really hoping you’d join me in the shower. Help me wash all of the places I can’t reach.”

    “Begone succubus,” I muttered. “You’ve already sucked all the energy out of me.”

    “It wasn’t your energy I was planning on sucking, Boss.”

     I opened one eye to look at her. “That’s just wrong.”

    “But you like it anyway, you old perv.” Molly grinned “You practically made a boinging noise earlier today from how fast you pitched that tent at the zoo.”

    “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I muttered, not quite able to hide my matching smile.

    “'There’s something I’ve been thinking about doing for a long time, Grasshopper?’” She teased. “You only ever had to ask, Boss.”

      I rolled onto my side to get a better look at her. Even covered in blood and bruises (hell, maybe especially because of it) she was a vision of beauty. “You are absolutely filthy.” My smile turned wicked.

    “Guess you’ve gotta help me get cleaned up.” She smirked and disappeared into the bathroom. The water was already running by the time my feet hit the floor, and I followed her in.

Chapter Text

     I didn’t sleep for the next decade as planned, but we did take it slow for the next few days. We slept in on Saturday and spent the better part of the day in bed even once we woke. Eventually, we made our way downstairs, and I spent some time reading (leisure, for once, not research) while Molly lay with her head in my lap, tapping away on her phone. It seemed ill-advised to me but she felt confident that as long as I was relaxed it would be fine, and lo and behold, she was right. It was a pleasant way to spend an afternoon.

     “You know what we need?” Molly asked, rolling her head back to look up at me as it started to approach dinner time.

    “What’s that?” I asked, face still buried in my book. One hand held the paperback, the other was buried in her hair, gently massaging her scalp.

     “Cookies.”

     I glanced down at her. “Oh?” She nodded solemnly. “Then I guess you’d better go make some, huh?”

     “Oh, I don’t know. I mean, I’m pretty bad at things like cooking and baking. I’d probably just make a mess of the whole thing.” She let out an exaggerated sigh. “If only there was someone in this house who made amazing cookies and loved me enough to make them for me.”

    “Yeah, sure sucks that there isn’t.” I turned my eyes back to the book. After a minute or two, I glanced over to see that she was still staring at me with the most ridiculous pouty face anyone has ever mustered and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, you win. Let me finish this chapter.”

    A few minutes later we migrated to the kitchen. She sat on the edge of the island, watching me prepare the dough and glamouring her hair different colors. “This is so much cheaper than dye. And look, I can get whatever color I want, perfect hue.” I turned around to find her hair was lime green with black streaks.

  I raised an eyebrow  “And yet you chose that?”

 She stuck her tongue out and changed it to hot pink. I raised the other eyebrow. “Okay, fine. What color do you like?”

  “I like your natural color,” I plucked the baking soda from the top shelf. “That honey-blonde. It suits you.”

    “Oh, you mean this?” I glanced back to find her long golden hair flowing gracefully down her shoulders.

    “Yes.” I smiled over my shoulder at her. “I like that.”

    “That’s not my natural hair color anymore, Harry.” She chided then hastened to add “But I can wear it like this if you want.”

    “Molly, you don’t have to change to impress me, okay? You’ve already got me. Relax. I’m not going anywhere, no matter what your hair looks like.” I looked around “Where are all of our – ah, never mind, found them!” I grabbed a wooden spoon and started mixing my dry ingredients into the wet.

    “Sorry. Old habits I guess.” She muttered sheepishly from behind me. I frowned into the half-mixed bowl.

    “What’s that mean?”

    She chuckled softly. “It means I’ve spent too long planning my style based on what I thought would impress you the most to stop just because of something trivial like you actually being my boyfriend.”

   “Heh. That’s a waste of time and energy.”

   “How so?” She asked. I scooped a tiny bit of dough into my hand and rolled it into a ball, then turned around to pop it in her mouth. She gave a hum of appreciation. 

   “Because I like you best in nothing at all.” I kissed her.

    I felt her lips curl up under mine. “I tried that. Didn't work.”

    “Oh,  it worked.” I fervently assured her, kissing her again before returning to the cookies. “You spent so much time trying to impress me you missed what was right in front of you.”

    “You wouldn't know anything about that.” Molly mused “But I'll bite, what did I miss?”

    “You've never needed to work to impress me and your looks have nothing to do with it. You have such an amazing talent for magic. At 18 you were pulling off feats I couldn't even hope to accomplish on my best day.” I continued balling up the dough. “And you've always had my back, even when I would have rather had you stay at home.  I…I used to have a hard time trusting people. I guess I still do sometimes.  But I've always known you'd be there, any time I called.”

     “Easy thing to do.” Molly’s voice was soft, as though she didn't want to disturb the quiet that had settled over the house.  “Anything to be close to you. The only thing worse than seeing you and knowing I couldn't have you was not seeing you at all.”

    Tray one went into the oven. It scared me, hearing her talk about when she was younger. I’d known she was attracted to me.  It had been pointed out on a few different occasions by different people, and even without help, she'd given me some not-so-subtle clues.  But I'd always thought of it as a crush. I mean, I'd been a teenager, I could remember being equal parts reckless and hopeless over someone.  Hell, I'm not sure I ever grew out of that phase. But Molly had been on a completely different level. She'd spent a decade obsessed with me. It was flattering and humbling but my heart ached.  How much had I hurt her? It’s not like I'd flaunted my pathetic excuse for a love life but she'd seen me with Luccio and Susan and above all Karrin.

     Arms wrapped around me, holding me tightly from behind, and I leaned back against her slightly for a moment before turning around to face her. She'd changed her hair again.  It was short now, one half jet black, the other the exact shade of electric blue that my pentacle glowed when lit.  I ran my fingers through it and was still unable to detect the illusion. She buried her face in my chest. “Molls, what's wrong?”

     “You tell me.” She said gently. “Is it Susan again?”

     I realized with a start that she must have been feeling my emotions – guilt, pain,  love. Despite myself, I laughed.  “No, for once not Susan. I just…” I took her face in my hands. “I'm sorry. If I’d understood your feelings for me before…”

     “Things wouldn’t have been any different between us,  Harry. I wish it were otherwise but I know they wouldn't. If anything, you would have just felt guilty and ended up pushing me away.”

     “You're probably right. But still, I didn't realize until right now,” I felt sick to my stomach just thinking about it. “All these years you've been in so much pain. And it’s my fault.”

     “Don't be melodramatic,” She chided. “People fall in love all the time, and it’s not always on both sides. You couldn't help it any more than I could.”

     “I guess you're right.  I still wish I'd been more sensitive about it,  gentler.”

     “Fuck gentle.  Haven't I taught you yet that I like it when you're rough and hard with me?” She arched an eyebrow suggestively and I laughed. 

     “Aren't I supposed to be teaching you things, instead?” I kissed my way down the side of her neck, the soft black hair tickling my face.

    “Absolutely. You teach me all the time. About yourself. About myself.” She moaned, then put a hand on my shoulder, pushing me back slightly so she could look into my eyes. “Harry, all of that is in the past, right? I'm not just some mid-life crisis?”

    “You think I'm only going to live to 80? I'm a wizard!” I grumbled.  “Wait, do you know something I don't?”

    “I think the fact that you made it to 40 is nothing short of a miracle. But you know what I mean.”

    “Yeah, I do.” I kissed her forehead, trying to smooth out the wrinkles of her furrowed brow. “And yes, I'm really here, I really want to be with you, I'm really in love with you. I don't have the sudden urge to buy a sports car.”

    “How about the urge to hook up with a girl half your age?” She smirked.

    “Well, Alicia’s cute but I don't know if–” Molly smacked me in the chest so hard it knocked the air out of my lungs and I grinned around the pain.  When I got enough breath to speak again I wheezed, “Just kidding, of course. She's not even old enough to drink yet, is she?”

     “I was drinking when I was her age.” Molly shrugged. 

     “Legally?”

     She grinned and repeated, “I was drinking when I was her age.”

    “Yeah, that's what I thought.” She claimed a kiss and I took one back until we were making out like high schoolers against the kitchen counter. “Oh, speaking of your sister,” Her eyes flashed silver and I was quick to continue. “Your dad asked us over tomorrow.”

    “Our first Sunday dinner as ‘us’,  huh?” She smiled “Did you tell him yes?”

     “Well, asked might have been a strong word.  He said he'd see us tomorrow for dinner.” Molly giggled. “He also wanted us to come to church with them tomorrow morning. He wanted me to invite you.”

     Her face fell. “What did you say?”

     “I told him he knew what my answer would be, but that I'd tell you.” I took one of her hands in mine. “I don't think he expected you to say yes but he wanted you to know that you were invited.”

     “Of course.” She closed her eyes, pained. “Of course he would.” She took a deep breath. “We’ll go over for dinner. That’s going to have to be enough for now.”

     The sun wasn’t quite up yet when I woke to a soft set of cool lips pressed to my brow. “Sure hope that's you,  Molls,” I mumbled, opening my eyes. 

    “Maybe. Or maybe I'm a big bad evil guy who broke past two sets of wards, mortal security measures, and a halfway-decent threshold to sneak into your bedroom and give you a kiss.” Molly said softly. 

    “A sinister kiss?”

    “No,  just a regular one.” She kissed my lips this time.  “You think these big bads always want to kill you,  but secretly they all just need love.”

    “Ah, okay, that makes perfect sense.” She was already dressed in a short grey skirt that hugged her hips and a matching jacket over a dark blue ruffled shirt. “Going somewhere?”

    “Yeah,  just heading out for a little bit,” I noted her hair was back to her natural – or formerly natural – color. I'm sure that had nothing to do with me.

   “An assignment?” I asked, moving to get up and join her,  but she laid one hand on my arm.

    “No, nothing like that.  Just some business to take care of.”

    “Give me a minute,  I'll come with you.” Her grip on my arm tightened, urging me back down to the bed. 

     “I'm just going to talk to a few members of Court. No bloodshed or monsters to fight. Go back to sleep.”

    “I could still keep you company.” I tried not to sound as sulky as I felt, but added, “That is if you want me to.”

    “I always want your company,  goof.” Molly flashed a knowing smile. “But I think this conversation will go better without you present. I love you but you’re not the most diplomatic guy.”

    “I'm a wizard, I put all of my points into INT,” I said defensively. 

    “I think you've still got plenty of charisma.” She purred, stroking my face lovingly.

    “God, you’re so perfect it’s like I made you myself.” I groaned. A gorgeous, sexy blonde who engages in wordplay about role-playing games? Come on.

    “Well  you had a profound impact on my formative years, it’s sort of like you did.” She teased. Well, that thought killed my mood faster than a cold shower. My frown must have given me away because she laughed. “I won’t be gone long, definitely back in time for dinner.”

    “I’m getting déjà vu. You sure you’re not going to disappear for an entire week again?” I intended it to be a joke but as I thought about it, it came out a little anxious.

   “Would you relax? It’s just a quick trip. The sooner I leave, the sooner I’ll be home. Go back to sleep.”

    “Too late, I’m already up,” I told her, stretching. “Be careful. Come home soon. Don’t do anything I would do.” With that she disappeared, leaving nothing but her echoing laughter behind. I glanced at the clock. 5:30. With a groan, I climbed out of bed, pulled on some clothes, and headed downstairs to make a phone call.

     Thomas, as I’d expected, was already on his way to the beach for his morning jog. When I’d first started joining him, I hadn’t really understood why he did it. After all, he was already preternaturally strong and fast. It’s not like he really needed to work out. I had thought maybe he did it to convince me to join him (since I desperately needed it) but he did it even when I wasn’t with him. After a few laps I understood part of it – there’s something freeing, relaxing even, about putting your body through its paces. Once you get past the “huffpuffpuffughohgodI’mdying” part, you hit a comfortable zone where your mind is free and clear and you can listen to the sounds of the world around you and your own body with a peace that can rarely be obtained otherwise.

    Now, as the Winter Knight, I think I understood in full. I continued working out, despite the fact that I was capable of feats of strength and dexterity that younger me couldn’t have even imagined in a human being because I could always be better. In the same way that I didn’t stop doing research or practicing my spellwork just because I was knowledgeable and capable, I didn’t stop exercising. I could always be faster. Stronger. And there was a simple human joy to be gained in earning that additional speed, the additional strength and endurance. It made me feel less like a monster and more like a man. Yeah, I was starting to understand my brother a lot more these days.

    He was waiting by his car when I pulled into the lot, leaning against it and looking for all the world like he was posing for the cover of a magazine. We didn’t say much, just headed for the trail together. We kept pace with one another well now. If I really pushed myself I could even get him to break a sweat keeping up with me, but I didn’t. After a few laps, when we’d hit our stride, Thomas quietly said “I’m glad you called. I was starting to think you’d become housebound.”

    “I leave the house plenty.” I protested. “We took Maggie out for her birthday.”

    “Ah, right. I have a gift for her at home if you want to head over to my place after this and grab it.” He shrugged. “If you have the time.”

     “Sure. Molly’s out on business so my morning is –”

     Thomas gave a short laugh. “I should have guessed. Of course, she's out.”

    “And just what the hell does that mean?” I snarled. 

     “You know exactly what it means.” He replied coolly. “And you know I'm right, which is why you’re pissed off.” Damnit. He wasn't wrong.

    I grumbled to myself.  “I’ve been busy. It’s not just Molly.” Thomas said nothing. “I’ve been spending more time with Maggie. I had a few cases. And Thanksgiving was…eventful, to say the least.” He grunted, an acknowledgment that he heard me but no more. “It’s not like she’s keeping me held hostage. I just…” I sighed slowing down for just a moment to look at him. “It’s harder to drag myself out of a warm, occupied bed than it was when I was alone, y’know?”

    “Yes, I do.” He smiled. “I had not one but two young women in my bed when I left it this morning, confident in the knowledge that they'll still be there when I get back. Or at least one of them will. If Justine wakes before I get home, I assume she'll hurry the girl on her way. She's good at that.”

    “Unbelievable and unfair,” I complained, but we both knew my heart wasn’t in it. If bringing someone else to bed with us was the only way we could touch, I knew Molly would have done it in a heartbeat. Hell, if I just asked she'd probably say yes. Tantalizing as that sounded, I shoved the thought aside. For one, I wasn’t sure that I’d get much enjoyment out of sharing my affection or Molly’s attentions. More importantly, now was definitely not the time or place. “I’m sorry, it’s not personal. I keep meaning to get up and meet you here but... I’ve just been caught up in everything.”

   “It’s fine.” He said, pretending very hard that he meant it. “And anyway, you don’t need to come jogging if you don’t want to. Just, pick up a phone once in a while, yeah?” He punched me lightly on the arm. “Not that I worry about you or anything.”

    I grimaced, thinking about how long it had been since we last spoke. Had I talked to him since Halloween? He’d called to ask if we’d had plans for Thanksgiving a few weeks ago. I’d invited him and Justine to join us but once we’d warned him of Molly’s plan to tell her parents he politely declined. We hadn’t spoken much more because Molly had started, well, let’s say distracting me and I’d politely ended the conversation before I could make any embarrassing and potentially traumatizing noises. Had I had a real, actual conversation with him since we'd started dating? Damn. “Yeah, okay, I hear you. I'm an asshole. I suck.”

    “That’s nothing new.” He smirked and I returned his shoulder punch. After a moment his face fell just a bit. “Should I worry about you, Harry? I mean, is everything…okay?”

   “Oh yeah! Yeah. Yes.” My voice sounded artificially cheerful, like the voice you use for watercooler small talk with the guy who got the promotion you were hoping for. “Everything's just great. I'm, I'm really happy, you know?  And Molly’s happy.” I kept the smile plastered in place, trying not to think of the events of the last few days. I didn't want Thomas to think I'd only come out to ask for his advice or to unload on him.  “We had a great time with Maggie. They really get along so it's…everything’s going really well for me right now.”

    Thomas was silent for a minute before he nodded and said “Okay, great. Now, do you want to tell me what’s wrong? Because that was a painfully pathetic cover-up.”

   “Can’t a guy just be happy with his life?” I asked, and picked up the pace again. Thomas effortlessly kept up with me.

    “Alright. Sure. You’re happy. You’re head over heels in love. You’ve got your happy little family. Good for you.” He said. “But that doesn’t mean everything’s fine. Is there trouble?”

    “No, there’s no trouble. Really. I’m just in a bad mood, okay? Can you drop it?”

    “Did things not go well with Michael and Charity?” A hint of a growl touched his voice, anger coloring his words. “Did she hit you again? Or was it him?”

   I heaved an exasperated sigh. “Things went strange with Michael and Charity but they’re both in our corner, I think. And they know about Molly’s...new job as well now. ”

    “Empty night. You didn’t want to let them down too easy, did you? Of course it went badly if you threw everything at them at once.” He shook his head. “But still, nothing to throw punches over.”

    “No one threw punches, what are you talking about?”

     He frowned harder. “You should really make a habit of looking in the mirror sometimes. You’ve got a shiner on one cheek, and I don’t think you tripped down some stairs to get it. So what kind of trouble are you in, and why are you hiding it from me?”

    I touched my cheek with probing fingers and winced. Right. Molly had slugged me during our tussle Friday night after she’d dug her nails into my legs. I hadn’t realized it bruised. “It’s not trouble. I’d rather not talk about it. It’s kind of embarrassing.” See, this is what happens when you grow up without siblings and then suddenly realize you have them. You don’t learn all the lessons, like lock your bedroom door and never admit that you’re embarrassed by something. In my experience, siblings exist to provide a source of never-ending support and equally unending torture.

    “Oh, now I have to know.” He stepped in front of me, jogging backwards down the track so that he could watch me. “Who hit you?”

  I scrambled to come up with a lie, but my stupid mouth just went ahead and said “Erm. Molly.” Thomas stopped dead in his tracks and I almost crashed into him. He’d gone from teasing and smirks to still and solemn in an instant. “It’s not what it looks like though. No trouble, really.”

     “Ooh. I wouldn’t say that. There’s going to be trouble for someone.” I had never really been scared of Thomas before. I knew he was an apex predator by nature, an excellent marksman, handy with a knife or a sword, and generally a ferocious opponent. There had been a few times when I worried that I would need to fight him, due to a variety of misunderstandings, and I didn’t relish the prospect. But I’d never felt true fear looking at him. I knew that we were brothers, that that meant as much to him as it did to me, and that he’d never do anything to hurt me.

     I knew that right up until that moment when he was standing in front of me, fixing me with a hard, angry, pale silver stare. He’s about half a foot shorter but I felt like he was towering over me. I judged it as some innate talent that had nothing to do with being a whampire and everything to do with being an older brother. “See, I can see two scenarios where Molly ever punches you. Either you lost control of your mantle or she did. If you lost control and hurt her so bad she had to defend herself, I will personally beat the sense back into you. If she lost control and hurt you instead,” He cracked his knuckles with emphasis. “I don’t have your compunction about hurting women. Especially ones that aren’t mortal. So which is it?”

    I’d like to say that I calmly talked my brother down and explained what happened at that point. My left brain was actually VERY insistent about that being the correct course of action. I love my brother.  I’ve been known to behave irrationally where he's concerned. I would do just about anything to keep him safe and defend him from danger. Rationally I understood that he felt the same way and was just looking out for me. But he’d just threatened Molly, my Molly, and it's possible that I wasn’t thinking too clearly when I said: “If you lay so much as a finger on her I'll remove it at the wrist.”

     “If she's hurting you, I won't bother with my hands.  I've got my shotgun in the back, loaded with iron buckshot.”

    We stood on the beach bristling and trying to intimidate each other. From a distance it probably looked comedic, our hair blowing in the cold wind off the lake, leaned toward each other in a very intense staring contest. Now that I was building muscle mass at an accelerated rate my looks had started to change from “freakishly tall, awkward and gangly” to “freakishly tall” and I suspected it might be easier to see the family resemblance now, so any bystanders might even assume we were related if they saw us.

      You had to be close up to see the danger. Thomas’s eyes were impossibly pale and shining, his Hunger ready to strike. I returned his glare with ferocity, my lips drawing back in a snarl. My hands were clenched into fists at my sides. It had already been a cold day,  but the temperature had dropped considerably surrounding the two of us.  Energy pooled between us as we both waited, ready for action. It felt like we spent an eternity facing off like that. 

    A young woman, maybe a year or two younger than Molly and obviously insane came jogging past us on the trail. I say obviously insane because it was well below freezing but she was out there anyway in a pair of extremely tight tights and a matching sports bra.  She'd thrown a fleece jacket on over top of it but hadn't bothered to zip it up. I noticed this due to my keen observation skills and not at all due to the fact that my eyes were glued on her ample cleavage which bounced along as she went past. I was so busy clinically noting details that I turned my body slightly so that I could watch the way her butt jiggled in those tights for…reasons. Wizardly, investigatory reasons. Ahem.

    The point is when I turned back I found my brother equally distracted, staring in the direction she’d gone off before I accidentally caught his eye and we both glanced away, sheepishly. “Someone should really go tell that girl to zip up. It would be a national tragedy if she caught frostbite.” Thomas drawled, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen between us. We both laughed lightly. The tension fled as suddenly as it had come, leaving behind just guilt and embarrassment.

   “Maybe you ought to go help her out. Take her home to that warm bed of yours. You've got room for a third, right?” I glanced sideways at him, noting that his eyes were already shifting back to their normal grey.

    “Ah, I let Justine do the shopping for me. I find that avoids any jealousy on her part.” He hesitated for just a second before embracing me.  It wasn't something we did often and it felt strange to start now,  but Thomas didn't give me a choice,  so I patted him gently on the back. “Whatever is going on,  you can tell me.  If she's hurting you–”

    “She's not,” I interjected. “You don't understand.”

   “Are you sure?  You can tell me.  You don't need to be embarrassed. This is serious. I can help.”

   I stepped back, half-pushing him off of me. I let my irritation filter into my voice but was careful to control the still-burning coals of my rage. “Stars and stones Thomas,  I'm not some frail battered wife lying to protect my abuser.” I rubbed at the bridge of my nose, trying to banish the headache that was forming there. “It's a long story. If you’re going to insist on hearing it, I'm going to need coffee first.”

    “Alright.” He reluctantly agreed. “Back to the cars then?” I nodded and we turned around to head back.  As we approached the lot Thomas started toward his car and I laid a hand on his shoulder.

    “We should probably take my car. Less electronics to mess up and I'm in a mood. I'll drop you back off here later.”

     “Less likely to be bugged too.” He said glumly as if reading my mind.  He waved a hand at the car.  “I'll have someone pick it up and bring it back to the apartment.”

    “Fancy.” I teased as we climbed into my old Caddy.

     Thomas waited patiently while we drove to the nearby convenience store and I purchased breakfast sandwiches and coffee for us both.  I took my time eating, mulling over how much to tell Thomas. I was starting to think that maybe I was, in fact, out of my depth. We'd had so much go on in the past few days, and I didn't know how to process or feel about it all. I felt like I'd been wound up into a tight ball of conflicting emotions and like I might unravel at the slightest provocation.  Talking to my brother might help me sort things out. He was a pretty good sounding board.

     On the other hand, he already was worried enough to threaten violence. If I told him how I’d gotten my bruises, I might only add to that worry. Not to mention how disappointed he'd be that I let go of my mantle.  He'd spent most of his adult life keeping control of his demon, I couldn't hold on to mine for a couple of years without beating and raping my girlfriend? How the mighty have fallen.

    “I told you before, brooding is my job. You want to brood you better go find Mavra, get yourself some fangs.” Thomas said lightly over the rim of his Styrofoam cup. 

   “Vampires don't have a market on brooding.  Wizards can brood too.” I argued. I coaxed the car to life and started driving, more for something to do with my hands while I spoke than out of any real need to go somewhere. I drove aimlessly and once we'd hit the flow of traffic, I said: “I've done some stupid stuff this week.”

    “Must be bad if even you think they were stupid.” He said with a smirk. 

    I couldn’t match his humor. “Yeah. I've done some pretty bad things too.”

    “Harry, melodrama is another one of those things that I, as a vampire, am entitled to. You are not.” He reclined his seat, putting his feet up on the dash. “Just tell me what fucking happened already. The suspense is killing me.”

     I sighed and started out with Thanksgiving day, from taking the potion through Arctis Tor to Maggie’s nightmare. I told him how Molly and I had agreed to table our discussion of the bargain until we were alone.  In as few details as possible,  I told him about how I’d slapped her with the fire during our roleplay and I could feel him trying not to laugh.

    “It's not funny!” I argued, feeling a flush creep up my neck. That was apparently the last straw since laughter poured out of him.

   “Oh come on.  Of course it’s funny. You're so bent out of shape about this, but I bet she liked it,  right?” I could feel him grinning at me,  even without taking my eyes off the road. 

   “Yes.” I finally admitted between gritted teeth. “But that's hardly the point. She likes a lot of things that no one should ever do to her.”

    “You can't be a prude and kinky at the same time, Harry. She liked it. You liked it. Just relax.” He leaned back again, closing his eyes like he intended to sleep in my car. “Next time tell her not to hit you in the face though. People start to ask questions when they see the bruises and you’re such a girl about talking about it, they’ll get the wrong idea.”

     “…Actually, she punched me the next night. To keep me from holding her down.” He twitched a shoulder in what might have been a shrug. “We weren't exactly playing.” He opened his eyes and looked over at me, not saying anything. I filled him in on the argument in the car on the way home and the ensuing fight.  I kept waiting for him to interrupt or react but he was just very quiet and still, taking it all in. I didn't give him a blow by blow, but he got the picture.

   “That's a lot to process.” He said slowly,  as if he had to think about each syllable of each word. “Is that why she's gone?”

  “Heh.” There was no humor to it, just an exhaled breath. “No. She thought it was great. Said she would have stopped me if she’d wanted to. Said she likes me,” I squirmed uncomfortably “Taking what I want.”

    He let out a low whistle. “Damn. That's.” He stirred in his seat and when I glanced at him in the rearview mirror,  his eyes were getting lighter.

   “Disturbing?” I suggested,  although I couldn’t deny my own similar reaction to the memory.

   “Sure. Let’s go with that.” He sat up completely. “But really, I’m not seeing your issue. If it was consensual–”

    “It wasn’t! I didn’t know until it was already done that she wanted me to do it. I just reacted without thinking.” I drew a shuddering breath. “She said my mantle reacts to hers.  That the more Queen-y she gets the more my Knight wants to come out and play.” I left out the part about her intentionally goading me into it. I knew how I’d react if someone had done the same to Thomas and I didn't want to see Thomas and Molly come to blows. 

    “Makes sense I guess. The predator in you responding to her challenge.” He sounded conflicted, almost pained as he spoke.

    “That’s definitely a part of it. But also apparently it’s part of my job now. Responding to her…needs.” I cleared my throat. “Apparently us Knights have certain duties to each Queen and I uh, I have been fulfilling my duties to her without realizing it.”

    “Huh.” He said in that ‘well whaddya know’ sort of way. “Not a bad job,  considering. Do you have that obligation to all three of them or just her?”

   “I...I didn't ask.” My eyes went wide and my stomach churned. “I hope just her. Surely one of them would have said something before now if it was otherwise.” I thought of old, hobbled Mother Winter and shuddered. 

     “Probably right.” Thomas agreed. “So what, you’re all shaken up at the thought that you tried to violate her against her will but you're not concerned about the fact that you’re contractually bound to fuck her?”

    “I’m very concerned about both.” I rumbled. I eased on the brakes as we approached a stoplight, and refused to look anywhere other than straight ahead. “I'm scared, Thomas.”

     “Of Molly?” There was no judgment, just an honest question.

    “…A little. And of myself. What I might do.” I looked at my hands, gripping the steering wheel like it might try to escape. “It’s so much harder to control around her. We feed off of each other. I get upset, she’s sensitive so she feels it and it makes her more Wintery. I sense that and my mantle starts fighting twice as hard to take the reins, which in turn makes her vamp harder and…it’s a self-perpetuating cycle and it can only end poorly.”

     Thomas murmured his assent but was otherwise silent. After a beat, I quietly asked the question that had been screaming in my head but which I’d been afraid to ask out loud. “What if that’s all there really is between us? What if this is all just our mantles?” A honk behind me let me know that the light turned green and I accelerated through the intersection.

    “Do you think this is just about your mantles?” Thomas asked.

     I let out an explosive breath. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. It’s the first question everyone asks when they find out about us and I’ve just been dismissing it out of hand but…” I shook my head. “I can’t always tell until it’s too late when the mantle has one hand on the wheel. What if I was just too arrogant to see it?”

    “You? Never.” Thomas drawled in a wry tone. I glared and he laughed. “It’s a good question. But I think you’re missing the point.”

    “Which is?”

    His voice was deadly quiet. “Does it matter?” I sputtered incoherently for a few seconds. “No, really.” He pressed. “Does it matter why this all started? You’re together now.”

    “I kinda think it matters if my mantle manipulated me into falling for the Winter Lady. Call me crazy, I don’t like finding out that my relationship is built on a lie.”

    “Empty night. You should work at the salon, you’re such a drama queen.” He rolled his eyes. “Your mantle didn’t make you fall in love, dumbass. It might have made you notice and, uh, appreciate things you tried to pretend you didn’t want to appreciate in Molly, but that’s a far cry from falling for her.” I made a noncommittal noise and he nudged my shoulder with his. “You know I'm right.  Just like you know this thing between you two has been building since way before she became the Winter Lady.”

    “Seemed out of the blue to everyone else. Even Molly.” I sounded sullen and hated it. 

    “I guess it’s not as surprising when you can taste the pheromones, but even if it weren’t the case, does it really make a difference? Who cares how it started, all that matters is what you have now. Believe me. I sort of know what I'm talking about here, okay?”

    “Yeah, I suppose you would.” I agreed with a nod. “You’re right. Winter doesn’t feel love. There’s more between us than just our mantles. I’m just not thinking straight. This whole situation has me messed up.”

     “Isn't ‘messed up’ your normal state of being?” He teased. I laughed lightly and could feel the tension in my shoulders relaxing at least a bit. I turned to head toward Thomas’s place.