When Harry Met Eve

Chapter 2

By Evelyn Raith

After a few more moments of him awkwardly not shaking my hand, we made arrangements to meet at St. Mary of the Angels in two hours. That gave me time to make a few calls and change into something less comfortable. As much as I like the looks and feel of modern clothing, the protection of my long, grey hooded cloak and its ability to hide my sword underneath it make it worth the hassle and weird looks.

I arrived at St. Mary's a little later than I had hoped. I took the front stairs a few at a time and swung open the large, heavy doors and into the Sanctuary. A quick glance around and it looked like I wasn't the only one running late. I made my way up the center aisle of the large church, letting my hand run along the edges of the right hand pews as I went forward.

As I approached the alter I could see up into the large dome above it and the large, beautiful mural just behind it. An artist's concept painting of Christ's mother, Mary, being raised into Heaven to be made Regina Angelorum, Queen of Angels, the other angels rejoicing around her.

My blood boiled at the sight.

Mary has ONE special kid and she gets raised to Angel status. I give birth to humanity, get one bad rap and I'm stuck down here in my own personal Hell. My hands were balled into fists and my teeth clenched when the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I could feel someone coming up behind me. I spun on my heel and drew my sword at the same time… and scared the bejeezus out of Harry Dresden.

He had thrown up a shield with his left hand faster than I could have brought my steel down on him. I took a deep breath and mentally told myself to chill out.

"Christ, lady! What gives?" he blurted as he released the power from his shield.

I shook my head, "Sorry, I'm just a little… out of sorts. Maybe this wasn't a good place to meet." My gaze moved back to the fresco of Mary and the Angels as I sheathed my sword.

Dresden stepped up at my side, carefully watching me in his peripheral vision as he also took in the painting. "Old friend?" He gestured to the image of Mary with his head.

I couldn't help but smile a little. "No, I hardly knew her." I turned left away from the altar and walked to where I could no longer see the offending portrait. Dresden followed a few steps behind and when I sat in the far corner of a pew, he joined me.

That's when I noticed the smell.

"Sweet Moses, what was your last appointment, Dresden? You smell like the Plagues!" I covered my nose with the arm of my cloak, hoping to filter some of the vile stench with the thick fibers.

I heard him grumble as he shuffled a few feet down the pew from me and he answered, "Mold Demons again. If you think this is bad, you should see my car." He rubbed his neck with his hand, using his elbow to block his face, which I'm sure was a bit pinker than it had been a moment before.

"I'm quite sure seeing your car wouldn't be a problem. Being downwind of it, that could cause some serious chemical burns to nasal passageways." I brought my hand down off my face and tested the air to make sure he was far enough away for the smell to be tolerable.

"You obviously haven't seen my car then." He gave me a cocky smile as he dropped his arm back down to his side. He was a good looking man, though he didn't quite know it. The random scars and evidence of a broken nose only added to his looks and none of it hid the fact that his heart loved to smile.

"True. I consider myself warned then." I cleared my throat and pulled an envelope out of my cloak and set it between us.

"As was our deal. " I nodded at the envelope full of cash.

He looked at the envelope and then up at me.

I didn't really know a lot about the man sitting in front of me. Rumors whispered by cloaked men in the dark, TV news reports of destruction and what his half-brother Thomas had told me. I had known his mother well and it appeared that the apple certainly fell close to her tree.

To some, he was a hero in a big dark coat. To others, he was a huge pain in the ass with a smart mouth. I figured he was probably somewhere in the middle. It's hard to be a hero without breaking a few eggs. I was very worried that he'd find my case a bit too high profile for someone who consistently was in the cross hairs of various factions. That he might choose self-preservation over an envelope full of cash.

I sat for a second, irritated, and then said, "What is the problem now? You won't touch me, you won't touch my money. We've just met, Mr. Dresden, I haven't even had the time to offend you properly yet, so would you do me the favor and share your concerns?"

He leaned back with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling. "Well, let's start with the fact that you just pulled live steel on me."

Alright, alright… the boy had a point there.

"Just because your paranoid doesn't mean Lucifer doesn't want your soul," I said. If only the poor child had any clue how true that was… for both of us.

"Okay, I can buy that." He conceded. "What I can't shake is your aura. You're something I've never felt before. Human, but… not." He shook his head indicating he couldn't quite put words to it. "My first impression was that you were Faerie."

Ah, so that explained his initial reaction to me when he opened the door. My aura coupled with my white hair. One plus one equals… "You thought I was Mab." He nodded in agreement and I had to laugh. "I'm human. I just have a nice juicy curse on me. One put on me by The Almighty for my transgressions against Him. You're probably not feeling the curse though. What you're sensing is the result of that curse, my life force. It's infinite, so it packs a punch on your senses. "

"So you're human, but you will live forever." He rubbed at his eyes. "How is that a curse?"

"Ever been in such emotional pain that all you thought you wanted was to die and get it over with?"

With weary eyes he replied, "Yeah." I realized how tired he looked now. How much older than his years he appeared to be.

"Imagine every day like that. Imagine every child you've brought into this world and loved dying and you are forced to watch it. Imagine watching all the pain in the world and knowing… it's all your fault."

He winced at the mental image I had provided then nodded. "Right, curse, got it."

I put out my hand to him. "Harry, take my hand. I promise I only bite if you ask really nicely and say please." I gave him a sly grin of my own and a wink.

He returned the smile, looked down at my hand and then slowly reached his right hand to me. I stopped him. "No, the other one."

I knew the glove that he wore on his left hand hid horrible burn scars. The hand could barely move and he felt very little in it, eventually he would regain most of his motion and senses in it. Wizards bounce back from such injuries given enough time. I had to prove something to him, I needed him to trust me.

For a moment, I thought he would balk and we'd be back at square one. He lowered his right hand, and defiantly shoved his left hand towards me. He tried to curl his fingers menacingly, but the hand just wouldn't play along with him.

I reached over and began to carefully remove the glove. He stared at my forehead as I worked it off his deformed fingers, not daring to look at it himself. I set the glove down and turned his hand upright by his wrist. There was one spot on his palm that was unmarred.

I looked up into his face and he started to pull the hand gently away from me. Before he could succeed, I placed my palm against his and wrapped my fingers quickly around his wrist. He nearly jerked his hand free as our skin touched. I closed my eyes and let my power move through my hand into his. It's difficult to explain the sensation. Like someone is pulling off strips of skin, but without the pain.

When I let go, he slumped back away from me. He was out of breath and looked a bit dazed. I was feeling a bit light headed as well. The boy had such power and had reflexively pushed back quite a bit with his will.

I handed him his glove back and he took it without a word. Then he looked at his hand again, and flexed his damaged fingers into a manageable fist. He blinked at it a few times, tested it again, and then looked up at me with his jaw slack.

"No charge." I said with a smirk.

A deep voice came from not too far behind me. "You really can do miracles, Eve." Michael Carpenter hobbled forward, heavily relying on his cane to do so. "It's clearly the miracle of a saint that leaves Harry Dresden speechless."

I stood to greet him. "Michael, it is good to see you again." He grabbed me up into a huge bear hug that, despite his weakened state, crushed the air out of me.

Harry stood up, still silent and began to look around the room.

"Is there a problem, Harry?" Michael asked as he released me.

"I'm just looking for the hidden cameras." He deadpanned and looked under a pew.

Michael put a hand on Harry's shoulder and gave him a hearty smile. "You'd just short them out if we tried such a thing."

Harry still looked puzzled. "How did you know we were here? How do you know her?" He jabbed a finger in my direction.

I was starting to get a little self-conscious now. I crossed my arms over my chest. "I asked Michael to come by and help me chip through that tough guy exterior. He assured me there is a soft center."

"… and not just his head." Michael joked.

Harry grumbled something that probably would be best not said in church and Michael frowned at it. "So you sent her my way with this crazy death quest?"

"No, she did not come to me until after she spoke to you earlier today. I know her story though and I think you should at least listen to her before you judge."

"How in the… " Harry paused to correct his language, "…HECK do you know her?"

"We had the same sword maker." Michael answered with a grin.

"The Archangel Michael made Amoracchius and…" Harry gestured at my hip.

"Hell's Bane." I supplied him. "Yes, he made them both and offered them both to those he thought worthy."

It seemed fairly clear to me now that Harry knew at least something of my plight. I was banned from Heaven. Forced to walk the earth for all time to witness the pain I had brought upon humanity. The Archangels were all given orders to destroy me should I even make an attempt to reach the Pearly Gates (which aren't actually pearly at all). The fact that one of those Archangels, the Prince of Hosts no less, had given me a tool that might work against that plan had the little hamster in his head spinning hard in its wheel.

A little light finally came on. "That's why you want me to shield this from The Watchman."

"Precisely."

"And you approve of this, Michael?" Harry turned to his friend.

"I think you know me well enough to know that I believe everyone deserves a second chance."

Harry stuffed his hands into the pockets of his mantled leather duster, still wiggling the fingers of his left hand absent mindedly. He was a tall, rugged, good looking man on the outside, but a hurt little boy on the inside. I slowly reached for his arm, like you would reach out to a strange animal, and laid my hand on it.

"Harry, you don't have to help me, but right now, all my roads lead to you." I sighed. "I need a good detective, a powerful wizard and someone who's not afraid to tell God and the White Council to stuff it." I moved to face him square on and looked into his scruffy face and smiled. "Help me, Obi-wan Kenobi, you're my only hope."

I knew no chivalrous nerd as big as Harry could resist that line. His shoulders slouched in concession as all the resistance melted out of him.

"Fine, but if I'm in for a dime I'm in for a dollar. I'm not getting killed without knowing what we are up against and if it gets too hot, I'm out. I have the Doom of Damocles over my head and an apprentice to protect."

I bounced a little as he spoke, the smile on my face almost hurt but I was too happy to care. When he paused to take a breath, I jumped up and wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. Then remembered clearly why I had been keeping my distance in the first place, hopped back and held my nose again.

Michael chuckled a little, "Ok, how about we talk about this over dinner over at my place?" He paused and sniffed. "Meet up in enough time that it takes Harry to shower and burn his clothes?" We all agreed, and Michael turned to leave in a hobble.

Harry bent down and picked up the envelope from the seat and stuffed it, without looking, into his pocket. He shook his head, "Lady, you don't play fair."

"You're right," I grinned, "but most women don't."

Halfway up the aisle to the doors, Michael turned and said "Oh, and Eve? Charity is making apple pie for dessert."

Could this day get ANY better?

Disclaimer: Harry Dresden and all established characters, settings, etc. are the property of Jim Butcher and ROC publishers. The original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.