the fortunate ones

by killbothtwins

Harry gets caught up in another case for the Wardens. Murphy has to deal with her sister marrying her ex-husband. They agree- Harry has the better end of the deal. Case fic.

The Beetle died outside Murphy's house, which was embarrassing but not wholly unexpected. It— and I— had taken a pretty nasty head-on collision with a troll a week or so ago, and we were both still bruised.

My car wheezed and rattled, making it up mostly onto the driveway, and I patted the dashboard. "That's okay," I told it. "Sometimes I feel like that too."

It was only then that I noticed the three or so extra cars in Murph's driveway, unfamiliar to me and not the kind of cars cops drive on their days off either. I frowned. I didn't think Murphy had many friends other than her fellow officers at SI, plus me of course.

I knew I was paranoid for doing it, but I took my blasting rod out of the car and looped it on the little hook inside my coat, then reached into the center console and found a few cloves of garlic. Things had been slightly tense lately. So sue me.

Then I sauntered up to the door and knocked, since leaning on the doorbell was likely to get something broken. Possibly me, if Murphy found out I'd wrecked something else in her house. She hadn't been that happy after the previous Halloween when I'd hid out there, doing, among other things, bleeding on her stuff and eating all the ice cream out of her freezer.

I scanned the street as I waited and leaned against the wall. There was no answer for a moment, then two. I considered breaking in— I've got a standing invitation at the Murphy threshold; no leaving power at the door— but then it swung open and a pleasant-faced blonde woman peered out at me.

It wasn't Murphy, and I felt my hand go for the blasting rod under my duster before I recognized her.

It was Murphy, just the wrong one. Marion Murphy was as pretty as her daughter, if a little more time-worn, and she looked frazzled but mostly not in distress. She squinted at me for a moment before her eyes lit with recognition.

"Oh!" she said. "I recognize you! Mr. Dresden, yes?"

"That's what they keep telling me," I said. "Hello, Mrs. Murphy. I was hoping to talk to Karrin?" My voice went up a little on the question, as I registered the sounds coming from inside. A lot of female voices, giggling and talking among themselves. The air smelled a lot like champagne and orange juice, and there was some kind of soft music playing that skipped a beat when I leaned a little inside the door.

"I'll get her," Mrs. Murphy said, with a smile. "Come on in."

I came in.

I'd been expecting a party, but the house wasn't so much decorated as it was the epicenter of a very frilly explosion. Garments of clothing and cloth covered almost every surface, flowers bloomed up in the corner like a small greenhouse, and quite a few women looked at me and giggled. A table had been set up in a corner with some suspiciously-colored drinks in pitchers and a few finger snacks. It was the kind of female atmosphere that made me want to go kill a steak or hunt a beer or something, just to remind myself that I was really a very manly man.

Mrs. Murphy left me to the wolves, where several of the women were whispering behind their hands and looking at me. I could feel myself going red.

"Mimosa?" asked a blonde woman, another in the Murphy clan, I judged.

I almost said yes. "Sorry," I said instead. "I'm not staying for that long. Actually, I need to use the phone."

She pouted. She had Murph's chin, but she was a lot pointier than the Lieutenant I know and love, and had browner hair, and she was wearing a nice floral dress thing. "Go ahead," she said. "I don't know how long Karrin will be."

I went to the kitchen for the phone without being directed, which incited another round of whispers and titters. Feeling my ears burn, I used Murphy's landline and called Mike the wonder mechanic, who promised to send a tow.

I finished up and went back into the living room just in time to see Murphy emerging from one of the bedrooms, doing a sort of scowl thing masquerading as a smile. She spotted me and made a beeline, looking suspiciously grateful at the scruffy wizard intruding on her gathering.

I found out why a second later when two other people came out of the bedroom: Marion Murphy and Murph's younger sister, Lisa.

Lisa had been decorated as Bridezilla Barbie, complete with a dress that looked like she'd taken a header in a tulle monster's nest and come out the other side only mostly having won. There was also a tiara, sparkly and kind of disappointing once you've met a faerie queen or two.

"Wow," I told Murphy, as the hordes of women rushed forward to fawn over the dress. "Did I come at a really good time or a really bad time?"

Murphy put a hand over her eyes. "Ask me in a few days. The bridal party has decided my place is the closest to the venue, and that Grandma Murphy would have wanted them to use this house as their staging ground."

"Wow," I said. "I've only ever heard staging ground in the context of battles before. Does that say something bad about me?"

"Don't ask me," Murphy said, and took her hands off her eyes just in time to give her expectant mother and sister a thumbs-up.

"Speaking of wars," I said, "Will you eviscerate me if I tell you that you look nice?"

"Don't push it, Dresden," she growled, but the elbow she shoved into my side only had bone-breaking force, not lethal, so I figured that meant she wasn't that mad.

She wasn't wearing a dress, like most of the others in the room, but she'd opted for a nice pink blouse and much more girlily fitted slacks than I was used to her wearing. She was barefoot, and had her hair up in a style that absolutely had to be for the big day, given that I don't think Murphy has ever even gone near a curling iron with as much enthusiasm as the curling iron seemed to have gone near her.

Lisa did a twirl that looked vaguely like a whale turning on its belly. I turned back to Murphy. "When's the wedding?"

"Tomorrow," Murphy said. "Please tell me the city's going to be destroyed before then?"

I grinned. "Sorry. No can do. But I did need to talk to you."

She nodded and gestured for the side door into the backyard. Me and Murphy have fought our way through a lot of war zones together, which meant that we came out the cloud of bridal-obsessed women only a little the worse for wear.

We stepped into the backyard and Murphy took a big gulp of air.

"Sorry," she said. "I'm already so damn frustrated by this whole thing— I just know Lisa wanted to set up here on purpose. Mom thinks it's going to make us closer, or something."

I was going to make some kind of tactless joke about how much closer two sisters could get than sharing the same guy, but then I remembered Murphy has swords and guns and knows how to use them. "If this is a bad time…"

She rolled her eyes. "What do you need?"

"One of the Wardens called," I said. "The Council lost track of some magical artifact, they need it back."

"Wardens," Murphy said, visibly searching her memory. "Magic cops?"

"Magic cops," I confirmed, with some distaste, even though I'm technically one of them now. "Anyway, Ramirez says the Council was about to scoop up the artifact from a private auctioneer, but it got stolen before they could."

"You're kidding," Murphy said. "Some kid stole the Holy Grail or whatever right out from under the Warden's noses?"

"Uh-huh," I said. "And boy are they embarrassed." Actually, embarrassment for most of the Council presents as murderous rage, usually with the addition of those sharp and pointy swords they still won't give me one of. That was mostly why Ramirez had called me. I don't have to worry about pissing them off further because they already hate me.

"But it's not the Grail— they've got that already." I grinned and let Murphy sputter. "It's something low-level. We're not even that sure what it is, except that it's a scroll of some kind that used to belong to a mid-ranging supernatural baddie."

"Okay," Murphy said, nodding. "What do you need me for?"

"There's a suspect," I said, patting down my duster pockets until I found the picture Carlos had given me. "This guy. Roman Hahn. Cameras caught him ducking in and out of the room at that time."

"Cameras?" Murphy asked with a frown. "Not a wizard, then?"

"No clue," I said. "Supernatural tracking's come up empty on him, the pixies can't pick anything up, etc, etc. The Council has no file on him, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have some kind of small talent."

"Got it," Murphy said. "I can run and pick up his file today." Then she paused. "You're kidding about the pixies, right?"

I gave her an annoying smile.

"I'm sorry I asked," she muttered, taking the picture and flipping it over where I'd already written Hahn's name and all the information we had on him— namely, the gallery he'd worked for and that his boss had considered him a slightly churlish young man. "Churlish?" Murphy read, looking up at me with an amused smile.

"Word for word," I confirmed. "She also gave me cookies. She was a good witness."

"I swear, all those people trying to lure you to the dark side could have succeeded a long time ago if only they'd offered cookies," Murphy said. "Did you drive here?"

"Yeah," I said. "But the Beetle gave up the ghost on your front lawn. I was going to wait for Mike, maybe snake a few of those little sandwiches."

She snorted. "Don't worry about it— I'll just run down to the station now and drop you off at home on the way."

I raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think you should stay here?"

"Not with this urgent case, I shouldn't," Murphy told me seriously. "People could die, Harry. Die."

"Why, what a kind and conscientious police officer you are," I told her, sliding the glass back door open and gesturing her through. "I sure wish I could grow up to be you."

Inside, the radio or iPod or whatever had begun to play Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. Murphy looked so immediately pained that I took pity on her and released a little surge of magic towards the source of the sound, resulting in a small puff of smoke and, tragically, no more Cyndi Lauper.

Murphy stifled a smile and dragged me over to her mother and sister. Apparently I hadn't garnered enough good will to get out of this conversation. Some people are so ungrateful.

"Hi, Mom," Murphy said. "Lisa, you look nice."

She did look nice, in an artificial way, like a model of a woman instead of a real one. I couldn't imagine her ever dressing up in a stolen Red Cross uniform to go kill vampires. Then again, not a lot of women would.

Lisa preened. "Oh, no, do you think so? Because I was thinking these heels are too short." She stuck them out for us to look at. Sparkly. Pointy. If Murphy wore them she might come up to my nose. "See?" she looked at me for the first time, clearly wanting an opinion.

"They'd make a good close-range weapon," I said. "Long range, if you threw hard enough."

Murphy strangled a sound that was suspiciously akin to an ugly laugh.

Lisa stared at me, then looked at her mother. "I think they're fine, dear," Mrs. Murphy said. "Karrin, are you ready for your makeup trial? Your hair looks lovely."

"Sorry," I said, taking pity on Murphy. "I'm actually stealing Karrin away— there's a really important case I really need her help on."

Murphy nodded earnestly. "Sorry, guys. I'll be back tonight, at the very latest."

Lisa sniffed. "We still need the napkins folded."

"And I would love nothing more than to fold the napkins," Murphy said, gritting her teeth. "When I get home."

"I want them in the shape of swans," Lisa said.

"Swans it is," Murphy said. "Come on, Harry. My bike's in the garage."

"Aww, Murph," I said. "I don't want to ride bitch again. It makes me feel very unmanly."

"Boo-hoo," Murphy said. "Did you want to walk, Daddy Longlegs?"

Lisa bent over in a tsunami of white dress and glitter and came up for air holding a designer purse. "Just take my car, Karrie," she said. "That way you can pick up the balloons on the way back."

"Isn't that nice of her to offer!" Mrs. Murphy said, taking the keys out of Lisa's hand and giving them bodily to Murphy before she could refuse. "Here you go, honey. I'll save you some sandwiches."

At the mention of sandwiches, I looked wistfully at the snack table, but Murphy was already herding me out the door. "Stop thinking with your stomach," she told me in an undertone. "Take the escape route while we still have it."

Most of the women in the room had stopped the pretense of whatever they were doing to openly stare. It seemed the whole wizard thing had made its rounds around the bridal party. Or maybe it was just my handsome face. Or the bruises on it from the troll. Murph stopped for a pair of steel-toes and a purse and we beat feet while we still could.

Lisa's car was a three-row BMW, a model so new I couldn't tell you the year. I levelled a flat look at Murphy.

"What?" she asked me innocently. "Just try real hard not to break anything. Whatever happens, I know you'll do your best."

I clambered into the passenger seat while she yanked the driver's side seat up so she could reach the pedals. "I feel so used," I said. "Accessory to crime, or something. I ought to be charging you."

Murphy rolled her eyes and maneuvered the car around the corpse of the Blue Beetle. The car really was fancy, with a sun/moon roof on top and nice leather seats. In one of the back rows, a little TV screen unfolded from the ceiling and played a loud clip from The Simpsons before dissolving into static and flipping back into the roof of the car. I jumped, going for my hip with my blasting rod before I realized what it was.

"Stars," I said, craning around in my seat to look as Murphy pulled out of her neighborhood. "Do they really make TVs for cars now?"

"Sure do," Murphy said. "You know how I know that? Because I had to watch three damn rom-coms back there while we were driving to the bachelorette party."

I let my heart calm back down and looked back at the road.

Murphy was shooting me a sidelong look. "I saw you brought your blasting rod when you got that picture out of your coat. And you're jumpy today. War not going so well?"

I waved a hand. "It is what it is," I said. "You know? No IEDs in pizza boxes or anything like that lately, but I almost fried Thomas the other day when he woke me up from a nap on the couch."

Murphy shook her head. "At least now you get what it feels like to want to murder the hell out of a sibling," she said. "I know how that is. Does he use your makeup? Leave his bras all over the place?"

"Not his bras," I said sulkily.

Murphy grinned. We were on one of the little side roads that would lead into a freeway into Chicago proper, not a lot of people around, just a couple cookie-cutter houses. That was why I was surprised when the car suddenly jolted forward. I thought for a second someone had been tailgating us and bumped into the back fender, but when I looked, there was no one there.

I looked forward again when Murphy swore, and then ducked instinctively, pulling my arms over my head, when something appeared in the front window.

I'll say this for it— it was not a car.

It was, instead, some type of demon— huge, ugly, hulking, and standing directly in our way.

Murphy veered the car off to the right, sharp enough I cracked my head on the passenger window, cushioned by my upper arm. She swore again and came up onto the sidewalk.

I didn't recognize the specific demon, but I knew the general type. Big, like a troll, but made of some kind of goo that looked like animated dirt, with glowing eyes the color of a blue flame. The demon brought a fist down. If we'd been on the motorcycle, or even in the sturdy but patchwork Beetle, we'd have been dead.

As it was, it punched straight through the open sunroof, almost filling the whole space, and slammed its fingers into the seats. The car whined a moment, then strained forward like a horse against a bit.

"Harry!" Murphy yelled.

"Do you think I don't see it?!" I yelled back, unbuckled, and pulled out my blasting rod. "Vento," I said, willing my power through the tip of the blasting rod until it started to glow blue. "Vento, vento, vento segmentum!"

The spell caught the demon's hand and ripped it directly off. The car shot forward without resistance now, and blackish blood filled the backseat while the hand flopped like a dying fish all on its own. On its own the hand was the size of a medium-ish dog.

"Oh, yuck," Murphy said. "Friend of yours?"

"I don't know," I said, hurriedly climbing back to the sunroof and shutting it. My pants got all in the sticky demon blood, which was unpleasant to say the least. "We've only just met."

"Somehow I don't think he's going to get invited to D&D," Murphy said, white-knuckling the steering wheel. We bounced off the curb and onto the street, where she accelerated to BMW-unsafe speeds. "Get back up here and buckle in."

I did, because it's hard to ignore Murphy when she's like that.

It was lucky I was strapped in, because the next thing the demon did was take a flying leap in front of the car. While many a creature may have been daunted by the idea of 4 tons of iron, steel, plastic, wizard, and cop hurtling at them— would want to avoid it, even— this creature had no such compunctions. Instead it used itself as a battering ram.

The front bumper crumpled, Murphy jerked the wheel, and the rest was history.

Or so I presume, because I hit my head on the window again. I lost consciousness for a minute or two, and I woke up to Murphy frantically shaking my shoulder.

The car was on its side, me on the ground side and Murphy dangling from the top, still strapped in. "Need a little help," she said tightly.

"Guh," I told her.

"Don't you dare make me slap you." As my senses came back online, I noted that she was shaking my shoulder with only one hand, and the other had her gun in it, aimed out the window. As I watched dumbly, she took aim and fired, an ear-cracking shot even with most of the windows shattered.

"Hell's Bells!" I said, shaking it off.

"Yes, Hell's Bells!" she said. "Do something."

"Ventas servitas!" I said in response, and the accompanying gust of wind flipped the car back up on its wheels. It also made me dizzy, if you wanted to know. We bounced for a second and Murphy tried the ignition, but it just sputtered for a moment and went out.

At least now Murphy could get out of her seatbelt, and, as it proved, undo mine as well when I got a little distracted by the cartoon birdies.

"I'm good now," I said. "Ouch. Okay." I opened the door and tumbled out, following Murphy's lead and ducking behind its dubious cover.

"What is it?" Murphy asked me, leaning up over the remains of her window to shoot at the demon, who'd gotten out of the way when we flipped back over, but was now coming back.

"Demon?" I guessed. I popped up on the other door and took out my pentacle necklace, willing a little faith into it. It glowed blue and utterly failed to have an effect on the creature. I frowned. "Not demon?"

"Helpful," Murphy said. The creature flattened a mailbox.

"Guess it's Plan B," I said.

"I hate Plan B," Murphy said.

"Fuego!" I called, and a lance of fire erupted with a crackle from my blasting rod, straight towards the creature.

It squealed in anger and fright and backed away a few steps, absolutely decimating a lawn flamingo. "Scared of fire?" I muttered to myself, then popped up again and shot it with the flame. The fire poured around its shoulder and off it, as if I'd done nothing more than spray it with a hose. "Not scared of fire."

Murphy's gun was running on empty— and I didn't think even she would have had more than two clips in her purse for her sister's wedding preparations. The creature came forward, surprisingly slow for how quickly it had moved before.

"Huh," Murphy said. Then she reached inside the car and slammed on the horn. The creature shrieked, loud enough to rattle the windows of the nearby houses and to make me check my molars for my fillings.

The creature fled.

It got a few feet away and melted down into goo— in a deliberate way, not a destroyed-by-soundwaves way. The goo spread across the street and oozed into the storm drain.

"Sound," Murphy said. "It was scared of the sound of your fire."

I sat down on the street, hard. "Nice detective work, Watson," I said, and put my head between my knees. "You wanna be the wizard?"

"No thanks," Murphy said, lowering herself to sit down as well. "I'm not quite that suicidal yet."

---

"Red Court?" Murphy asked as I squirmed away from the ministrations of the world's most heavy-handed EMT.

"Maybe," I said. "Ouch!"

"Don't be a baby," Murphy told me. The cops had arrived with speed that suggested we were in a richer neighborhood than I'd thought. "It's only a little blood."

It turned out I hadn't cracked my skill open, just bruised and scratched it up a little. I didn't even need stitches, and one of the cops on scene had given me a granola bar, which meant that today was on the up for Harry Dresden.

The EMT gave Murphy a disapproving look, and when she looked away I shot Murphy a smug smile. The creature's blood had sloughed off a little while after the creature did, and then turned into a sheen of disgusting ectoplasm. Even that had melted off around the time the paramedics showed up.

"It could be the Reds," I said to Murphy. "Like I told you, they really don't like me. Then again it could be related to something else entirely. I don't even know what that thing was."

Murphy only had a few cuts and bruises, so she was waiting her turn. "Have to do with the case?"

"Maybe," I said. "Seems a little early in the day for that, but what the hell should I know? I'm just a wizard."

That made the EMT alarmed for some reason, and she seemed to forget her grudge match with Murphy for making fun of the possibly-concussed guy to shoot her a concerned glance.

"Don't worry," Murphy told her. "He's always like this. If he's got brain damage, he got it a long time ago."

"Oh, I love you too," I said.

Murphy made one of the uniforms drive me home, so that Stallings was clear to drive her, and donate his police-auction grade Ford sedan to the noble cause of picking up wedding balloons. I'm sure he was thrilled.

Meanwhile the uniform drove me home, promising to come back again soon with the file Murphy had asked him to get.

I found Thomas asleep on the couch— without any female visitors, thankfully— and ducked into the lab to talk to Bob. He awoke, yawning with a suspicious amount of drama. I cut my eyes over to the one old-fashioned wood shelf in the basement lab. Sure enough, his book stash was looking low.

"Oh, boss," he said. "I didn't see you there, seeing as how I was so deeply asleep."

"Bob," I said, reaching up to grab a spare notebook off one of my very overstocked shelves. To be honest, the air spirit living in a skull is one of the least weird things in there, especially if you consider the secret buried in the concrete inside my summoning ring that I prefer not to think about. "I haven't let you out in two weeks. You're not tired."

It was only then that I realized I'd walked directly into his trap. Hey— clever may we wizards be, but that doesn't always mean we're quick on the uptake.

"You know what?" Bob said. "You're gosh darn right. It has been two weeks, hasn't it?"

Bob using words like gosh darn meant he really was up to something.

"I'm on a case right now," I said.

Bob perked up, or at least his skull gave that impression. "Paying?"

"I get a regular paycheck from the Wardens," I grumbled.

"Not paying," Bob said with a sigh. "Look, boss, I'd love to help you, but—"

I found my notebook and a pen and pointed the pen at him. "No buts, Bob. Just tell me what you want."

Bob grinned. "Busty Asian Beauties is having a summer sale," he said. "As well as a house party, just down the block, actually, and across the river—"

"Ugh," I said. "I can send Thomas out for the magazines, but I'm not unleashing you on a bunch of poor models." My brother having no shame, and my skull familiar being a pervert, and all.

Bob let out a gusting sigh which actually guttered some of the candles in the lab. "You're so boring," he told me.

"Thanks," I said. "It's the magazines or nothing, and either way you're helping me out."

Bob scowled. "What's up?"

I told him about the tip-off from Carlos, meeting up with Murphy, and the construct that had chased us that day.

"Huh," Bob said. "So is the Lieutenant's sister as hot as she is?"

"Bob!"

After I'd searched around for something to throw, and Bob had gone through a few more theatrics, we actually got down to business. Bob said he had no idea what the creature that attacked us was, but that he would be happy to go out, possibly to the magazine cast party, to look into it.

"It doesn't sound like a creature from the Nevernever," Bob admitted at last. "So probably a mortal wizard of some kind called it up. Maybe constructed it from their own power, I don't know."

So not a real creature, sort of like the chlorfiends I'd faced a few years ago— just matter, powered by magic. Except if it was a wizard it wouldn't have the same weaknesses. "How do I kill it?"

Bob's eyes flickered in their sockets. "No iron, no fire, no faith. Try the other tricks. Running water, draw the energy off, something."

I scribbled that down, for however helpful it was. "Okay," I said. "What about the thing stolen from the Wardens— do you think it has to do with that?"

"Might be," Bob said. "Good chance, actually— you need to find out more about it."

"Great," I said. The Warden's information had been frustratingly sparse on the subject; no one had a full account of all the stuff that had been owned by the most recent newly-headless acquaintance of the Council. A lot of it had been sold off by an estate company before we'd gotten there, and a lot of it was nasty.

It was entirely possible Mavra or someone else from the Courts had gotten ahold of it so that they could use it to kill me. I'd keep my head on a swivel for the next few days, because my life was just so boring before.

---

My little escort cop dropped off the file as it was getting dark. I flipped through it, but while Murphy had been thorough it wasn't all that helpful.

Hahn had a minor criminal record, but apparently nothing the auction house had been worried about when they hired him. A few domestic squabbles, a drunken attempt to hook up with a girl who didn't want to be hooked up with and who had had pepper spray, and one or two bar fights.

Presumably there were some cases of petty theft that had never been reported, because he'd been fired from his last two workplaces for undisclosed reasons. Besides, hardly anyone escalates from perfect citizen to art theft without something in between.

He had a list of known hangouts I could set the Alphas on, but they looked like dead-ends to me.

If he was working for someone who'd sent him to steal the object that could help them summon that thing to kill me, there were easier ways to do it. I needed a little help.

---

Thomas was suspiciously happy to make a run to the adult store, so I left him to it while I drove a little ways out of Chicago proper.

I met Ramirez outside a center of tall, abandoned office buildings. It looked like they'd gotten partway through being constructed, then abandoned.

Or maybe the builders had been eaten.

"Hi, Harry," Carlos said cheerfully. There were a couple junior Wardens hanging around him like little ducklings. "Walk and talk?"

"Sure," I said. "Any extra grenades?"

Helpfully, one of the ducklings darted forward to give me some, then went back to her little group. I think they keep getting younger; I swear there were pigtails involved.

We breached the front door of the office building— the nasties almost always expect someone to come in from the back. There were three vampires on sentry duty, but they'd been sitting behind the rotting front desk, apparently giving each other creepily sensual back massages, and they weren't expecting us. I took out one vampire and Carlos took out the other, and the junior Warden ducklings got the third.

"So?" Carlos asked, shooing the ducklings into a phalanx behind us. "What's up?"

"I need more information on the warlock who owned Lot 92 at the auction house," I said. "Whatever was stolen there is already causing trouble for me."

We stopped and Carlos ran a delicate finger along a tripwire. "Hm," he said. "Lee, you had bomb training?"

"Yes sir!" piped up one of the Wardens.

"Go ahead," Carlos said, and moved so she could access the tripwire without setting anything off. "We gave you most everything we have," he told me. "How did you run into trouble already?"

"You know me," I said, grinning.

"Unfortunately."

"All clear," the baby Warden said. "Go ahead."

We did. A vampire dropped out of one of the stairwells and caught itself on my shield, only to be skewered by Ramirez.

Along the way I told Ramirez about the creature. "So I think you can understand why I want to figure out if the stolen object is the thing that's after me, or if someone wants to kill me for an entirely different reason," I said.

"It's fair," Carlos said. The vampires had gotten wind that we were here by now, and they were trying to sneak up on us. Carlos shot one in the chest and gestured for two of the Warden ducklings to go in one door, two in another. He and I continued down the hall. "That's interesting, actually. A lot of the stuff that we did recover was focused on creation, animation, stuff like that."

"So you think it could be related."

Carlos shrugged. "Duck." I did, and he tossed a grenade into a room that looked like it used to be a break room.

There was a short explosion, which I shielded us from, and a couple of vampiric shrieks that made my ears ring.

"It could be related," Carlos said. "In fact, it probably is. I don't think the Courts have the capabilities to summon something like that up. Givani—" that was the dead warlock, "Didn't really care for any creature that wasn't a wizard. I doubt he'd have made something Mavra could use."

That didn't mean Mavra hadn't hired another warlock to come after me, or someone from the Faerie Courts could have done it, or maybe just someone I'd stiffed on a tip (because that's how my life is). But it was at least a little reassuring.

"You always know the right things to say," I said.

One of the duckling Wardens skittered up to us. "They've got hostages," he said.

After that we made less with the talking and more with the butt-kicking.

---

The next day, with the Beetle out of the shop, I took Thomas to the auction house the magic whatever-it-was had been stolen from. I tend to get an early start on the day when someone's trying to kill me, and we arrived just a little while after the place opened.

"What am I here for?" Thomas said, flipping his sunglasses up over his forehead.

"Needed a pretty face," I said. "And Murphy's busy with her sister's wedding."

"You know, it hurts that I was the second choice."

Inside we met with the old lady who I'd talked to last time I was there. She was the manager/owner of the place, and her niece had been the one who hired Roman Hahn, the no-good thief. The manager had had a lot to say on that, and on the Youth of Today.

"More questions?" she asked.

"Just a few, Mrs. Silas," I said. "This is my partner, Thomas." Every good P.I. had a partner, right? Thomas stomped on my foot out of Mrs. Silas' sight. "He has some follow-up questions."

Thomas flashed his ultra-brite teeth at her. "If it's no trouble."

"Oh, of course not!" she said. "Come right on in."

"Can I use your bathroom?" I asked. Yes, I am trained in state-of-the-art investigative techniques. Why do you ask?

"Sure, honey," she said, and pointed me off down the hallway while Thomas made faces at me behind her back. I don't think he believed me about just wanting a pretty face. Oh, well.

The last time I had been here security had been fairly tight; there had, after all, just been a pretty expensive theft. Mrs. Silas had also trapped me with the promise of cookies. This time, with Thomas and his supernatural— literally— ability to be distracting, I had time to snoop.

The auction house was set up fairly simply, for a snooty rich person-type place. There was the reception area, a little back office where Thomas was hopefully currently charming an old lady, a big show hall where the rich people schmoozed and bought stuff.

Finally was a set of two rooms, one where they kept the expensive artifacts and one where the employees took their breaks and stuff. I went through the latter on my way to the former, but then reconsidered.

The artifact room would have security, locks and cameras and all those inconvenient things. The rows of lockers, however, were protected by those little combination locks that couldn't protect your stuff from a fly. Or, in this case, a wizard.

I found Roman Hahn's locker, not yet cleared out. His name was written on the front in Sharpie, and it was a matter of seconds to prod the door into opening.

The inside was exactly what you might expect from a youngish guy like Hahn. Messy, with a few half-eaten food wrappers, a gym bag that smelled like it was used, and other various odds and ends. Hahn had been an usher here, and the only nice thing in the locker was the crisp black slacks and shirt that had been his uniform.

Nothing to indicate where he might have gone to sell the magical object, and no magical paraphernalia either. I guess the cops probably would have found that when they were here if it was to be found.

However, they didn't confiscate Hahn's hairbrush, which was full of unruly blonde-ish hair. I liberated a few tufts into a ziploc baggie and tucked it into my pocket. There was really nothing else interesting, which was a surprise.

If Hahn had known enough about magic to steal the one magical object in the auction house, surely he would have known better than to leave parts of his anatomy around where any enterprising wizard could find them.

Still, my prize obtained, I went to find Thomas before he could overdose on cookies and old-lady perfume. He didn't seem that happy to be rescued, shoving a chocolate-chip cookie in his pocket as I made my excuses to the owner.

"Oh, take a cookie to go," she said, pinching at my cheek. "You're too skinny."

"If you insist." I took two. Just to be polite.

"So?" Thomas asked, when we got back in the Beetle, several pounds of baked goods now stashed about our persons. "Now what?"

"Now I go hunt down someone who tried to kill me, who may or may not be a warlock," I said. I snaked over the center console on my stomach and dug around in the backseat. I finally found my grey Warden's cloak under a fine layer of Burger King wrappers and chip crumbs. I dusted it off. "Want to come?"

Thomas put his sunglasses back on. "I guess."

---

Thomas drove so that I could follow the tracking spell on the hair. We drove for a lot longer than I had expected; I would have bet a lot of money we'd find our ne'er-do-well at a friend's place or hiding out in a bar.

Instead we wound our way out of the city, slowly and circuitously.

Something about this case was bothering me. By all accounts, Roman Hahn was pretty much a nobody. He'd gone after me before I'd even managed to make any headway on the case— I'd barely even started. Why had he decided I was worth the effort, and why now?

We passed Chicago city limits and entered into an affluent area of vacation homes and cutesy little shops. We were definitely not rich enough for this area— even the Beetle was making less dying noises than usual, possibly in an attempt to fit in.

"How the hell is some punk kid affording his hideout in this area?" Thomas asked.

I shook my head. "No clue. Maybe he's working for someone rich."

We passed a few mansions, a Christmas tree farm shut down for the season, and finally the spell pulled us definitively towards a castle-looking property. There was a huge fountain in front, and gardens stretching out on the left and right. Behind the McMansion was a thick clump of dark forest.

There was a circular drive in the front by the fountain, but Thomas ignored that and parked off to the side of the house, under the dubiously covert cover of a few trees.

"This is a lot of ground to cover," I said, looking at the house. I didn't think anyone lived there— more like one of those historical places or something. Maybe we could get a tour.

We got out of the car and went around to the trunk.

"I can hear people around the left side of the house," Thomas said. "A gathering or something."

I nodded. "If the warlock is somewhere around here, it's probably with the rest of the people." Hopefully my cloak would just make him turn himself in; the Wardens are a lot of people's worst nightmares, including me until recently.

Thomas reached into the trunk and pulled out my shotgun, slinging it over his shoulder and then with further consideration grabbing his cavalry sword.

"If you get arrested, I'm disavowing all knowledge," I said, eyeing his gear skeptically.

Thomas grinned at me.

We circled around the house, sneaking, but in a way that hopefully looked less like sneaking and more like a stroll. If we didn't find Hahn here, I was going to have to call in Murphy and ask for her help— snooping around rich people is a lot easier if you have a badge.

The place was recently painted nice, neat white, and the flowerbeds all carefully tended to. There were a lot of rooms inside, judging by the huge number of windows we passed.

In absence of Thomas' enhanced senses, it took me until we were almost there to hear the movement of people in one of the side rooms. There was talking, chatting, music playing. It sounded like…

Was that Girls Just Wanna Have Fun?

With a growing sense of dread, I poked my head up and looked through the window, gesturing for Thomas to stay down.

Inside was quite obviously a ladies powder room, covered in women in various stages of getting ready. There were a lot of pink fuzzy chairs everywhere, and through the slightly cracked window I could smell perfume.

Because I was a gentleman, I would have ducked back down immediately. Really. But I was looking for someone in particular, and unfortunately, I found her.

Murphy caught sight of me at about the same time I caught sight of her. Her face turned murderous, and she said something that judging by the look on the face of the poor little flower girl next to her, was probably nice and polite.

My face must have done something interesting, because Thomas peered up over the windowsill next to me.

"Uh-oh," Thomas said. Murphy pointed at the door, made a throat-cutting gesture, and stomped towards it.

"You know what?" Thomas said. "I'm going to go secure the perimeter. Bye!" Then be scooted away, the little weasel.

I had no idea how to get into this place. Luckily— for a given value of lucky— Murphy poked her head out of the open window next door.

"Harry Dresden," she hissed. "Get in here right the hell now."

I got in there right the hell now.

Climbing in through the window wasn't my finest hour, but I did eventually manage to fold all my limbs inside and she shut it, hard, behind me.

We were in a storage room now, with a few laundry baskets of tablecloths and some round tables flattened and stacked against the wall.

Karrin Murphy is a very beautiful woman; legs of an athlete, face of an angel, and as I'd once accidentally found out, the butt of a Greek god. It's impossible to disguise how pretty she is, but someone had certainly done their best.

Murphy was wearing some kind of floral dress, which hung to about mid-calf. There was a huge bow in the back, with a different floral pattern than the rest, a bustle-type thing, and high heels.

I couldn't help it. I snickered.

That increased us from Glare Level Maximum to Glare Level Start-Making-Out-Your-Will.

She hit me on the shoulder, hard. "Don't you dare!" she said. Then she hit me again for good measure, which I felt was just excessive. "Why are you here? If that thing is after you again, take it somewhere else. This is my sister's wedding, and only I get to ruin it."

Suddenly, everything clicked into place— the strange timing of the attack, the way Hahn didn't seem to have any connection to the magical community at all, even the skittishness of the creature…

"I just tracked it here!" I protested. "I don't think it's after me. Listen, Murph— that car. It belonged to Lisa, right?"

Murphy's eyes grew wide. "Oh, hell," she said.

We hadn't even considered that the monster could be after someone other than me or even Murphy. We'd made a lot of enemies over the years after all, both of us.

"You don't think…?" she said.

"I don't know," I said. "All I know is it's not after me. Do the bride or groom know Roman Hahn?"

She scowled, and kicked out of her shoes, so hard they might have dented a wall. Like magic, she pulled out a pair of plain white sneakers out of her purse. She shook them out and started to put them on. "I hate you so much," she said. I offered an arm so she could balance. "I really hate you. Where's Thomas? I saw him creeping around."

"Opted for self-preservation," I said. "Coward."

"Smart," Murphy corrected. She finished with the shoes. "I get Lisa, you grab Rich. The guys are getting ready down the hall."

Out of the purse next came a gun, which she strapped onto her thigh.

"Why did you bring that to a wedding?" I asked, aghast, and she raised an eyebrow at me. "Fair," I said.

Murphy went towards the girls, and I went to find the boys. I haven't been to a lot of weddings, but even I knew guests would be arriving any time now— in fact, probably already were. Given how many Murphys there are, if the creature got loose at the wedding the casualty list would be half the population of Chicago.

I knew I was getting close when I started smelling cigar smoke rather than perfume and hairspray. I didn't think people did that in real life.

I knocked on the door.

A groomsman who was clearly already drunk opened the door. He looked up— and up— at me, standing there in my Warden's cloak with my staff. His mouth had been open to say something; something probably annoying. Instead he just gaped.

"Hiya," I said. "Need to talk to the groom."

"But—" he said.

I showed my teeth. "Family emergency."

That was the place that the courage of men failed. He squeaked and scurried off into the depths of the room. I leaned against the doorframe and tried really hard not to think about what Murphy would do to me if I let her sister's wedding get ruined.

It only took a moment for Special Agent Rich Boughton to show up at the door, missing his tie and looking annoyed.

"Hey," he said. "I recognize you—"

"Yup," I said, nudging him out the door and shutting it behind him with my staff. "We've gotta go."

He scowled, letting himself be propelled only another foot or so before he planted his feet and made us both stop.

"Look— Dresden, is it? I don't know what you're trying to pull, but you need to leave." We'd only met the once, but apparently I'd made a pretty good impression. I'm real good at that.

"Good point," I said, muttered a spell that made the door to the storage room crash open, and pushed him inside.

Murphy had already wrestled Lisa in, and the soon-to-be bride shrieked when she saw us.

"You're not supposed to see me before the wedding!" she said. She was in a pink silk bathrobe, with her hair and makeup all already done. She was very sparkly already. I feared for the eyes of her guests once she was all dressed up. "Kar-rie."

"Yeah, yeah," Murphy said. She gestured to me. Obligingly, I took the picture of our suspect out of my pocket and handed it over. She showed it to them. "Either of you know this joker?"

Rich folded his arms. "What's going on?"

But Lisa Murphy had started to turn very red. She balled her hands into fists, glaring at her sister. "It's not funny, Karrie. You're just jealous!"

"You know him," I concluded, with my well-honed powers of observation.

Lisa huffed.

"Baby?" Rich asked uncertainly.

"This is the guy who tried to kill me and Harry the other day," Murphy said, showing her the picture closer.

"You said it was a hit and run!" Lisa said.

"They hit," I said. "We ran. Spill the deets."

Lisa huffed. "We used to date. A long time ago."

Murphy and I exchanged looks. "It was serious?" I asked, taking the metaphorical bullet for Murphy. If looks could kill I'd have been taking a literal one too.

Lisa glared. "It was serious. I guess. I broke it off. He got over it."

"I don't think he did," Murphy said.

Rich's eyebrows were drawn. "We should call for backup," he said. "This guy wouldn't come here, would he?"

It can be difficult explaining exactly why you don't want law enforcement around at times. It gets awkward, especially when the groom-to-be is an FBI agent who doesn't believe in wizards. Those guys like to go in guns blazing. But if the mortal cops ran into the creature that had smashed up me and Murph, people would die.

Fortunately we were saved of an excuse. Someone slammed into the window at the far end of the room.

Lisa shrieked, and me and Murph turned on a dime, weapons drawn. Rich stepped in front of his fiancee, which was so sickeningly cute I almost gagged.

Thomas put his face up to the glass and grinned. "Someone looking for this?"

The slam had been Roman Hahn, getting vampire-handled into the side of the building with his arms twisted behind his back. His eyes were huge. I went over and slid the window up. "Where was he?"

"Skulking in the bushes," Thomas said cheerfully. "Didn't put up that much of a fight, which was a little disappointing." I hauled Hahn in by his collar, and Thomas climbed in after, keeping a gentlemanly hand on his cavalry sword to keep it from banging into anything. "Hi, folks."

Lisa and Rich stared.

"Don't suppose anyone has a pair of handcuffs handy?" I asked.

Murphy pulled a pair out of her purse.

---

"Where's the creature?" Murphy asked, standing in front of Hahn, who was cuffed to a frilly white chair.

Hahn averted his eyes. "What creature?"

Murphy rolled her eyes. She pointed at me. "You see the cloak, idiot?"

Obligingly, I twirled the Warden cloak a little.

"Um?" Hahn said. "Yes?"

Murphy, Thomas and I stared at him. "Oh no," I said. "He's even more of an idiot than we thought."

"That's it," Rich said. "I'm calling the cops."

"No," Murphy said exasperatedly. "This idiot sicced a monster on you, and until we find out where it is, you can't have the wedding."

Hahn was now giving Lisa a stupid, love-struck face. "Are you impressed?" he said. "I was just going to get rid of your fiance, so you'd be with me."

"There's easier ways to meet girls, man, trust me," Thomas said.

"You decided to turn to magic?" I said. "Instead of, say, breaking his knees with a baseball bat? There are a million ways a budding psychopath can commit murder."

Murphy was busy patting him down. She recovered a folding butterfly knife, of the kind carried by punks who don't know how to use them, a wallet, some gum, and a rolled-up scroll. She passed the scroll to me, the knife to Thomas, and looked inside the wallet. She let him keep the gum, which was nice.

I opened the scroll with no small amount of caution. It was probably fine, since presumably it had been handled and unrolled a few times by a few different people at the auction house. If it was booby-trapped, we'd probably know. But you never can be sure.

When nothing immediately killed me, I unfurled the scroll the rest of the way.

I've worked with a lot of old manuscripts in my career as a wizard— it kind of comes with the territory when almost everybody is a million years old. Add that to the fact that we can't use technology, and to a lot of wizards, a hundred years old is recent.

That said, I could tell this was very old indeed, and well-preserved. It was definitely what we were looking for.

Around me, Rich and the Murphys started arguing— ah, good old family drama.

"Let's just call the cops and get back to the wedding," Lisa complained.

"How long did you date this guy again?" Rich asked, eyeing Hahn over critically. "And what was so special about him?"

"What did you do with the creature?" Murphy asked, ignoring them and glowering at Hahn. I don't think it looked as impressive as she thought it did. It's hard to take a 5'-something woman seriously when she's wearing a dress like that. Then again, if he had known Murphy, he would have been very scared. "Call it off."

I scanned through the scroll. Great. It was in Latin.

I'm not saying my Latin is bad, per se. In fact, it's probably better than 99 percent of people's. Considering it's a dead language, that's not as impressive as it sounds.

Damn it, was this spell saying to bring forth or to give birth? Well, it's kind of the same thing, right?

"You want me to take a crack at him?" Thomas asked, looking a little too gleeful at the thought.

"No we do not!" Rich said. "Who even are you?"

"It wasn't that serious, baby, I promise," Lisa said. "We were together for, like, two years, max."

"Two years?" Rich said. "Now hang on—"

"Aww, Rich's young little replacement wife is acting like a kid? Oh, wait, maybe because she is—"

"Really, I don't mind taking a crack at him," Thomas said. "Or I could do this guy instead."

"Keep him away from me!" Hahn said.

"EVERYBODY! SHUT! UP!" I said. "I AM TRYING TO REMEMBER HOW TO CONJUGATE THE DAMN THIRD PERSON FORMAL IMPERATIVE!"

Everyone stopped talking and stared at me.

I huffed. "Thank you."

Finally I finished reading the scroll. "Oh, you idiot," I said, staring at Hahn. "You summoned a construct, but you don't even know how to control it."

His face colored. "I created it," he said. "From nothing."

"Uh-huh," I said. "Because you don't even have any damn magic; you just let this creature out of the scroll without even knowing the consequences."

"What does that mean?" Murphy asked me.

"It means he set the construct on a vengeance path. It means," I said, "That unless you were very, very careful with your wording, it's going to blow up in your face really badly."

"What did you tell it to do?" Murphy asked.

Hahn scowled. But he was looking weirded out enough by now— Thomas glowering at him probably didn't help— that it didn't take long for him to crack.

"I wanted it to stop the wedding," he said. "Kill the fiance and stop the wedding."

"Fiance," Thomas repeated. "Fiancee. Pretty thin difference between those two words, buddy."

Hahn looked at us blankly.

"One's male and one's female," I told him. "Did you write it down, or did you just say fiance?"

"Said it," Hahn said slowly. "There's a difference?"

"Yeah, it's definitely going to try to kill them both," Murphy said, putting a hand over her eyes. "Don't suppose it can be stopped at this point?"

"No," I said. "Not even if he tried. It gets the command, it fulfills the command until it dies. Whoever made the scroll made it I think as a backup plan, to be used at the point of death. You know, everlasting vengeance on my enemies, that sort of thing. To be used without magic, so the wizard was still free for their death curse."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lisa said.

Something slammed against the outer wall, big and heavy. We all turned towards the window instinctively, only to catch sight of the creature that had tried to knock off me and Murphy. It was huge, muddy, and the flaming blue eyes were staring right at us.

Rich and Lisa both screamed, which was satisfying to hear in a kind of schadenfreude way.

It slammed a hand through the window, which shattered. Thomas swung around and brought his sword through the wrist, severing it neatly.

"It gonna go after the idiot?" Murphy asked, hustling her sister and ex-husband towards the door.

"Don't think so," I said, and brought up my shield to keep the thing out for another minute.

"Okay," Murphy said. "If we don't die, Roman, we'll be back for you." She pushed Lisa and Rich out the door, and waited for me to back towards it, keeping a hand extended towards the window. Once Thomas and I were clear, she slammed the door shut and we all sprinted down the hallway.

"The people are that way!" Rich said.

"If we go where the people are," I said, chivvying Lisa forward, "The people will die."

Murphy found a door that led to the outside. "We need to get out of here," she said.

"The Beetle's parked down the street," I said.

"And I saw all the other cars in the parking lot on the other end of the mansion," Thomas said. "Too far."

"The getaway car should have the keys in it," Murphy said.

I wondered at the synchronicity of there already being a getaway vehicle arranged for us, until I saw the lone vehicle waiting on the drive this side of the house.

"Empty Night," Thomas said.

"You've gotta be kidding me," I said.

"Nope," Murphy said. "Everybody in."

"Now hold on!" Lisa said. "We're not going anywhere with you!"

There was a roar.

"Okay," Lisa said meekly, and we ran for the car.

The getaway vehicle was a long stretch limo in a tasteful shade of white, decorated with several cans attached to ribbons. The back window was decorated with some kind of paint or marker, all variations on the theme of good luck, just married, or cutesy little hearts.

Murphy went for the driver's seat, and the rest of us piled in the back.

I pulled the back door shut as Murphy started the engine and gunned it, and I got a good look at the creature. It also got a good look at me, and I assumed it would have given me the "I'm watching you" eyes if it had the intelligence or knowledge of what that was.

We peeled out of the drive, and I more or less tumbled back into the limo. Thomas caught me and set me upright. Murphy was all the way in the front, but at least the divider was down, and I could see her yanking the wheel hard to get us out onto the road.

It was a nice limo inside, if a little tacky. Most of the limos I've been in were owned by mob bosses, evil faeries, that kind of thing. They don't go for the white leather and pink aisle lights, probably mostly because it would be difficult to get the blood out like that.

There were a few windows, which we all crowded around to gawk.

The creature was catching up to us, even in the car. I didn't want to see what would happen if it repeated the BMW trick in a limo.

It was also herding us away from the road.

"Uh, Murphy?" I said.

"I see it," she snapped from the front seat.

Thomas stood up, hunched over not to whack his head on the ceiling, and pressed a button that somehow made the sunroof slide open. He chambered a bullet in the shotgun.

Murphy swore, and we went careening away from the road again.

I scrambled and joined Thomas at the sunroof, popping my head out the top to get a look at the surroundings. The wind whipped through my hair, stronger the faster the car started to go. It was pretty out, at least, a very scenic place to die. The construct was still following us, much faster than I would have liked. It was trying to keep us away from civilization— probably an old instinct.

I could see its legs gearing up to jump, so I blasted it in the knees with the old forzare. It tripped ungracefully, skidding across the ground like a kid who'd fallen on the playground.

At the same time all the electronics in the limo went on the fritz; the lights flashed pink, then green, then purple, and the stereo popped on. It was Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, and it was very loud.

"Harry!" Thomas and Murphy complained.

I ducked my head back inside the vehicle. "So-rry," I huffed. "Next time I'll let us get smashed by Hulk Monster, okay?"

"Fire in the hole," Thomas said, and shot the thing in the forehead with the shotgun before anyone could do so much as cover their ears.

Lisa screamed, and the monster stumbled with the force of the blow, but didn't go down. But the music seemed to be disorienting it— loud sounds bothered it, I remembered.

"We just wanna— we just wanna—"

It was, as survival methods went, a little embarrassing.

Thomas and I traded off shooting at the thing with the gun and with magic, while Murphy struggled to get us off the grass and onto the paved road, where it would be a lot easier to drive.

"What the hell!" Rich said. "What the hell!"

"I demand to know what's happening!" Lisa said. "What is that thing? What are you doing?"

"Lisa, shut up," Murphy said.

"My wedding is in half an hour!" Lisa wailed.

"Lisa," Murphy said, and I ducked down again to watch her glare in the rearview mirror at her sister. "If you don't stop complaining, I am going to have Harry turn you into a frog."

I grinned at Lisa, because you have to back up your buddies. Lisa paled.

The lights had started to make a disco ball pattern thing, and Cyndi Lauper was now getting mind-bendingly loud.

Outside, the creature made to jump again, and this time both me and Thomas missed it. "Uh-oh—" I said, which was apparently enough for Murphy. She had been keeping the car under control pretty well, when you considered she had about 26 wheels to deal with.

But now she did something with the wheel and the gear stick that briefly made my life pass before my eyes. The car fishtailed, recovered, did a full 360 spin, and shot off towards the street. We hit blacktop and bounced so hard the entire back end of the limo caught air for a second.

The monster missed us by approximately a mile, possibly because it was just that impressed.

There was a lot of swearing going on now inside the car.

"GIRLS!" the radio shouted— I think it was on a loop.

"Murphy!" Thomas shouted. "Are you actively trying to get us all killed?"

"Though it would probably be less painful, no," Murphy said. "Does anyone have any damn ideas before I slam this thing into a tree?"

"Uhh," I said.

"GIRLS! GIRLS! G̴̛͍͙̬͇͍̭̠̞̪͂̓̓̇͆̊Ḯ̸̛̝̼̼̯̲͓̖̮͕̻̫̑́̓̈̅́͒͝͝R̷͉͓̘̖̺͆̃L̴̡̹̙̱͎̜͈̯̉͛̿̎́͌̕̚͘͘S̷̛̞͉̙̆̎͆̆̓̋̽̃̓̊̂̽͂̕!" said the radio.

"Okay, I got it," I said.

"Is the solution girls?" Thomas asked dryly. Then he pumped the shotgun and fired again. "Because if so, I'm so in."

"Get your mind out of the gutter," I said. "Are there any rivers near here? Running water?" This time I addressed the group.

"Um," Lisa said. "There's a little creek by the house— we're going to take pictures there."

The house, meaning the giant mansion we were rapidly Fast and Furious-ing away from.

"Harry, if you want me to turn around," Murphy said, "I am going to shoot you in the head."

"Okay," I said. "But we might need to go the other direction." Running water was a pretty classic weakness of a lot of supernatural baddies. I don't know exactly why, though I suspect it has something to do with purity, or symbolism.

I might have been overly optimistic, but I thought the construct was shrinking in size, just a little bit. Conservation of mass, or whatever— when bits of you keep getting shot off and growing back, you have to get the parts that grow back from somewhere. Presumably we could wear it down like this over a really long period of time, but that was providing we survived that long. Plus, we did have a wedding to get to.

Either way, I fired off a good old-fashioned fuego at it as it caught up again. The flame spurted out of my staff and shot towards the creature— taking a little heat out of the overworked engine as I did— which took most of the brunt of the spell on its chest.

Thomas' shotgun roared once more, then clicked. He winced. "Out of ammo."

"Well, at least things are looking up," I said, and for some reason everyone glared at me.

"Swap?" Thomas suggested, craning his head to look at Murphy. "I have to assume you have a gun on you. You're the better shot anyway."

"Damn right I am," Murphy said. "Get up here."

So Thomas ducked his head and did that weird crouch-walk you have to do to get through a limousine. He passed the bride and groom-to be on the way, and shot them a grin. "Congratulations, by the way," he said. "Sorry we might be about to get murdered before you can get married."

"Them's the breaks!" I called out. "Whoops." The creature was still running in our wake, and it had managed to get a hand on our back bumper. But unlike the SUV, this thing was apparently made of cheaper stuff, and the bumper separated with a creak and a clatter of tin cans.

I heard Rich swear, and I popped my head back down from the sunroof to watch Thomas and Murphy pull off the smoothest chinese fire drill of all time. The limo barely swerved as Thomas slid behind the wheel and Murphy rolled towards me and the sunroof.

"Don't you dare!" Lisa said. "That thing's going to kill you!"

Murphy shot her a dry look. The lights flashed frenetically, and outside the creature roared. "I think I've got it," she said, and she and I moved in sync to stand side-by-side out the sunroof.

Outside, the frustrated construct scooped up a loose chunk of asphalt, about as big as my head, and heaved it towards us. Murphy didn't even blink, just let me bring up my shield bracelet and kept shooting.

The rocks burst against the shield in a shower of blue light. Murphy leaned around me, and shot the thing in the eye.

"Two points if you get the other one too," I said.

"Hold on, kids," Thomas said, and swung the limo wide— possibly the world's fastest u-turn in a limo. This made our entire side visible to the creature, and also meant that Lisa and Rich got a really good eyeful out the window as Murphy nailed the thing in the other eye.

"What do the points get me?" Murphy asked.

"Huh," I said. "I'll have to think of something. Fozare! Drinks on me next time we go to Mac's?"

The construct started growing its eyes back, which was pretty disturbing to look at.

"Sure," Murphy said.

"You're both crazy!" Rich yelled. "All three of you are crazy!"

"Well," I said, "Girls just wanna have fun."

"Turn here!" Murphy said suddenly. "It's just ahead!"

Thomas complied, taking a sudden turn straight off the road and into the forest. My stomach hit the side of the sunroof, and Murphy crashed into my back.

"You wanna take the corners a little easier, Speed Racer?" I called up. "Some wizards back here would like to remain inside the vehicle, thanks." The creature had been momentarily confused by the erratic twists and turns, but it was getting its feet again. I froze the ground at its feet and it slipped again.

"I'm not taking my hands off ten and two because I'm a good driver," Thomas said. "So just imagine that I'm flipping you off right now."

We kept playing follow-the-leader with the creature, me and Murphy just barely managing to keep it back before it caught up again, then me and Murphy pushing it back, and it happening all over again.

Now Thomas drove us really off the path, into a forest full of trees, logs, and mud. We bounced. A lot.

"PHONE RINGS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!" the radio wailed.

"It's not much further," Murphy said. "Can't you go any faster?"

"I'm sorry, I missed the pursuit driving class where they teach you how to go off-roading in a limousine," Thomas said. "You're lucky we're going forward at all."

The interior lights kept flashing, but now they had acquired some kind of heart pattern that kept swirling across Lisa's bridal bathrobe and catching the glitter in her hair. The bass beat of the stereo was starting to get uncomfortably strong, and the engine was starting to sound not all too good itself.

We went over a large collection of rocks, came out okay, swerved around a tree and scraped off most of the siding, and finally hit a giant divot in the earth. The front wheels went in, and the back wheels stayed out. We stalled for a moment with a whine, then the engine made a ker-chunk and died.

"Whoops," Thomas said calmly.

The radio finally died, cutting out suddenly, though the lights continued to flash a moment longer.

"How far are we?" I asked.

"Within running distance," Murphy said grimly, ducking quickly out of the sunroof and kicking open the back door. "Okay, everybody out."

"I'm wearing slippers!" Lisa said. We all looked. She was.

"Well, run careful then," I said. "Thomas, you take those two up ahead, Murph, back with me."

They nodded, and Thomas ushered the happy couple in front of him. They went, protesting but pale. It was weird— like normal people don't deal with giant monsters chasing them on an everyday basis.

"Got a plan?" Murphy asked me, checking her clip.

"Yeah," I said. "Distract it so the slowpokes can get further away, then run like hell. When we make it to the river, the enchantment from the scroll should be washed away, and the monster should die."

"Should?" Murphy said, and shrugged. The bow thing that was a part of her bustle had started to come loose, and she tugged it off in one impatient motion. I was going to offer to put it in my pocket, but she dropped it on the ground with a kind of vindictive motion that suggested that wouldn't a good idea. "Good enough for me."

I could hear branches cracking.

The woods here were that stereotypical old world feel, like the Big Bad Wolf could be lurking around any corner. We were well into the afternoon by now, but the buckthorn and ash trees above our heads were doing a pretty good job of keeping out most of the sunlight. The ground beneath us was all leaf litter and mud, the kind that makes it admittedly kind of difficult to run through in slippers.

But that was what we were for, me and Murph, distractor extraordinaires. We just had to drive the thing back a little ways so that we could get to our destination without being ripped limb from limb. Hahn's original command hadn't specified that the creature needed to kill us, which is probably why it left us alone after beating up on us a little at the car. But now we were definitely In Its Way, which is never a good thing when you're talking supernatural creatures.

The construct was coming closer— I took out my blasting rod and started to summon up power. Murphy saw and stepped out of my way, ready to provide backup while I got my magical mojo on.

She's a good friend, even when she's dressed like Military Bridesmaid Barbie, and really mad at me. Possibly especially then.

A tree fell, and the construct stepped over it in a clatter. It apparently had given up on tact, and now was just mindlessly rushing towards its goals. In a way, that was a good thing; it meant that the creature wasn't all that smart, and that long-term the enchantment that had brought it to life might be fading.

But that didn't help us now— even if we could wait it out I doubted Lisa would consent to postponing the wedding.

Murphy started shooting. I realized when she kept missing that she wasn't aiming for the creature. That wouldn't do much good, after all— she was aiming just to the sides of its ears. Trying to deafen it while I worked up the power. Well, I could do her one better.

"When I stop chanting, cover your ears," I told Murphy. She nodded. I gathered my will. "Sana, sana, sonus!"

Murphy dropped her gun, I lowered my staff, and the world erupted in sound— the loudest I could produce without busting anyone's mortal eardrums, still loud enough to make my ears thud like I'd stood too close to an erupting firework. It shot out of my staff and directly into the face of the creature.

If it was uncomfortable for me, though, it was pure agony for the construct. It screamed, almost louder than my spell had been, and grabbed at its ears— well, the place its ears more or less would have been on its head. It stopped, tripping over its own feet in agony.

Murphy tugged at my wrist and off we went, into the woods. We're both quick on our feet, as a matter of necessity, though I did slow down a little so that Murphy wouldn't be completely lost by my long stride.

The underbrush was tricky, even with Murphy's heels exchanged for sneakers, and I had to stop a few times to bodily lift her out of the mud, and she helped me up when I fell over a log. It was good we'd sent Thomas and the others up ahead— if it was this slow-going for us, professional monster hunters and run-awayers, it would be a long slog for the civilians.

Sure enough, just as I heard the babbling of the water, we almost ran smack into the bridal party plus Thomas.

Thomas had murder in his eyes but no one was actually dead, which I was counting as a plus. They were running, Thomas taking up the rear with his sword. He caught sight of us and grinned, giving us a friendly wave.

"About time," he said. "I was beginning to think you two had abandoned us."

"Fratricide is frowned on in the police force," Murphy said, not pausing. "At least usually. Lisa if you don't move—"

I finally caught sight of the brook. It was definitely made to be a wedding spot, with a little gazebo on the other side, with a walkway and some flowers growing artfully wild. The river was at least enough to count as running water, though I could probably clear it in one jump.

"Okay, kids, across," I said.

"Is it still back there?" Rich asked, eyes wide. "Did you kill it?"

"No," I said. "Hence, forth to the river. Scoot."

Thomas frowned, stopping at the riverbank to tilt his head. "I hear it," he said. "Coming up fast."

"The bridge is over there!" Lisa said, pointing. It was a good ten feet away, too far with the monster coming up that quick. "I am not crossing here."

"Good point," Murphy said, and pushed her sister into the water.

Lisa shrieked, and went in only up to the knees. I waded in and offered Lisa a gentlemanly arm to help her get to the other side. She swore at me and went on her own. I held back a grin— brat or not, Lisa had the same genetics as her sister, and Murphys had deadly shin kicks.

The water rushed past me gently, about shin-high. But it was dulling my magic a little, an unnerving sensation. My Warden cloak pulled with the current.

"I am so going to kill you, Karrie," Lisa said. With her safely on the other side, I gave my arm as a springboard. Murphy did some sort of ninja thing with my straightened arm as a lever, and half-cartwheeled across without getting more than the hem of her dress wet. Thomas jumped across easily.

The creature crashed through the trees just as we were getting Rich across. I knew it had come because Lisa screamed again, which when I turned saw had actually stalled it for a second with the volume.

I reached out my hands without looking back over my shoulder, and Thomas and Murphy each took one and hauled me out of the water. Between kung-fu Murphy and my brother's vampire strength, I fully left the ground, and my cowboy boots skidded on the dirt for a second before I regained my balance.

I whirled around to look at our pursuer, and got a good look at it as it ran towards us. It was just as ugly as before, though a little smaller, with the same blue glowing eyes. The limo chase had left it a little worse for wear— the mud was interspersed with forest debris and apparently bits of asphalt. It also looked increasingly befuddled as it came closer to the water, as if sensing that it probably shouldn't go across.

Thomas swished his sword a little. "Want me to poke it into coming over here?"

"No need," I said. My usual wind spells push things away from me— that's usually what you want to do when something with big teeth or claws or magic is coming at you— but they can pull too. "Ventas servitas," I said, raising my staff, and a gust of wind yanked the creature towards us at high speed.

This was for some reason alarming to the members of my party that hadn't been warned of the incoming mach-5 goo monster, and everybody screamed and ducked.

The monster, grabbed by my spell, left the ground, hurtled across the brook, and halfway there burst into formless mud. The now non-animated sludge continued its arc across, culminating in a beautiful ker-splat against anything in the vicinity.

Mostly, I was in the vicinity.

Murphy and Thomas, infinitely adaptable and well-used to my ways, had actually ducked behind me, so they only caught a little splatter. Rich and Lisa were cowering some ways away, so they pretty much avoided the carnage.

"Hmm," I said. "Well, at least it's dead."

---

I offered to carry Lisa back through the woods, but she declined even after the mud started drying off into clear ectoplasm. She mostly shuffled back in her little pink slippers, with Rich supporting her every few steps or so.

We were received with much cheering and worry back at the wedding staging area, where a manhunt had been going on for the happy couple.

The girls whisked Lisa away, cooing at her dirty feet and patting her hair anxiously. The men bundled Rich back to the cigar room, possibly for more cigars.

"Gonna see what I can do about the car," Thomas told me, flashing me a white grin, and sensibly escaped from the chaos.

Somehow I found myself with Murphy in another back room while wedding preparations hurried on elsewhere. The high heels, tragically, had been lost, which meant Murphy would be bridesmaiding in her sneakers and somewhat disheveled dress.

Murphy touched up her hair and makeup standing in front of a mirror while I kneeled in front of her, desperately scrubbing mud off the hem of her skirt. A very confused caterer had given us the sponge, but it wasn't really meant for this kind of work.

"Ugh, how did I get a stick in my hair?" Murphy complained, and threw it into the recesses of the room. "How's it going down there, Cinderella? Don't you have a spell or something for that?"

"I could try," I said dubiously. "Only you know most of my spells involve death, destruction, mayhem…"

"I get it, I get it," Murphy said, grinning. "You could have just said you were afraid of stripping my skin off."

"Hey, I know how to talk to a lady," I said with mock offense. The flower pattern at the bottom of her dress wasn't looking all that hot, but the mud at least kind of blended in, like a woodland pattern thing.

"Ha!" Murphy said. "Good one."

I grinned, and, with a flourish, used the sponge to wipe away a fleck of dirt from her leg. Murphy has nice legs.

"Hey," Murphy said, a little softer, and I tilted my head to look up at her. It was weird looking at Murphy from so far down— normally I literally towered over her. It was still a good angle. She grinned at me. "Thanks for saving my idiot kid sister's wedding."

I grinned back on instinct. "Offer's still open."

She raised an eyebrow.

"I could turn someone into a frog," I explained, and she laughed, slightly too long and hysterically.

Someone knocked on the doorframe, and we turned to see Thomas lounging artfully against it. It wasn't his fault; he was literally born that way. "Party's about to start," he said. "You're on."

Murphy huffed. "Any more hideous goo monsters you want to pull out of your pockets?"

I made a show of patting myself down. "Sorry."

Murphy eyed herself critically in the mirror, shook off her tennis shoes— splashing me in the face in the process— and finally shrugged. "If things get too hairy in there, I'm counting on you two to cause a diversion."

"Come on, Lieutenant," Thomas said, with a grin. "Don't you trust us? If there's one thing Harry can be counted on to do, it's start a fire."

"This is true," Murphy said, heading for the door. I recognized the grim set of her shoulders from some of our more hairy situations, the ones where we weren't sure we'd get out alive. "Did you check on the perp?"

"Yeah," Thomas said. "He's begging to confess to the cops. We'll let him go after the party."

Murphy dragged her feet a little more. "Did you—"

"Go!" I said, and directed a little force her way, making her stumble out the door. She continued the next few steps on her own, but then I heard her little sneakers retreating. She stuck her head back in, then her middle finger.

Murphy is the epitome of charm.

---

Thomas and I managed to snag standing room only at the back of the wedding hall. I didn't think anything further was going to happen, not with the creature dispersed, the spell scroll burned, and Hahn tied up in the back room. But it always paid to be safe, especially when you consider the way my luck usually goes.

Thomas had ditched the shotgun, but, confusingly, had decided the sword was appropriate wedding attire. Maybe it was at Raith weddings. I wouldn't be surprised.

I was still wearing the Warden cloak, because underneath I was wearing a t-shirt that said WINE MOM, and I decided the wizard cape was the better part of valor in this circumstance. We got a few weird looks by the people in the back rows, but for the most part people were absorbed in their own conversations.

The wedding hall was set up like an advertisement for a bridal magazine, with more shades of white and cream than I had been aware existed in the natural world. Rich stood boredly at the altar, the cuffs of his pants dirty but nothing else out of place. All the lights and flowers were starting to give me a headache. For some reason, I didn't get invited to a lot of fancy occasions like this.

Either way, Thomas and I held up the wall as a piano started playing, slightly off-tune, and the crowd shuffled in anticipation.

A truly adorable flower girl came out first, tossing petals with reckless abandon. She spotted me and grinned— kids are a lot nicer about tall men wearing wizard cloaks— and flicked a handful of flowers at me. I smiled back at her and murmured a soft spell that made the petals around her feet stir. She giggled and skipped the rest of the way down the aisle.

The bridesmaids came next, Murphy among them. She had been paired with presumably the shortest groomsman, but it was me and Thomas she glared at when she walked down the aisle. All the poor other girls were wearing the same monstrosity of a dress as Murph, and honestly hers only looked a little more careworn.

I waggled my fingers at her, and she didn't flip me off this time. I think because people were taking pictures.

Finally Lisa emerged, with Mrs. Murphy walking her down. She was wearing the same wedding dress she'd been wearing at the party, with her hair and makeup done even more somehow. She looked none the worse for wear for her romp through the woods, tottering on her high heels and grinning with a plastic smile.

The ceremony itself was insufferably boring, although Thomas seemed to be amusing himself with flirting with the other bridesmaids through looks alone.

Awkward looks were exchanged all around when the speak now thing happened, and the discomfort of everyone else seemed to please Murphy enough that she didn't actually object. I wondered what Murphy's first wedding with Rich had been like.

There had probably been less carnage.

Finally, the ceremony was over and they released us into a room with a bunch of tables and, more importantly, snacks. They were all the fussy and tiny kind that I usually can't afford, so I had a great time for a while eating as many as the servers would give me. Thomas wandered off, towards the more attractive members of the catering staff.

Murphy found me a little while later with one of those little hamburgers stuffed into my mouth. "Lord Almighty," she told me, taking the second burger out of my other hand and starting to eat it.

"May he give us the strength not to suplex our siblings into the ground," I agreed. I tried not to look longingly at the burger.

Murphy grinned. She looked a lot more comfortable in the tennis shoes than the heels, and at some point she'd put her hair back in a functional if still quite fancy ponytail. "I guess it all worked out for the best," she said. "Hopefully now they can make each other miserable together."

"We can only hope," I said.

By now Lisa had gathered a gaggle of female wedding guests around her, all listening intently. They walked by me and Murph, and I caught a snippet of conversation.

"—biggest dog you've ever seen!" Lisa was saying. "It was so awful. Tried to take a bite right out of us."

One of the women— a Murphy I thought I recognized from the party— clucked in sympathy. "Oh, you poor dear! On your wedding day!"

"It was terrible; chased us all the way to the river…" Lisa said.

Murphy and I watched them go by in silence.

"Does she really believe that?" I asked. "I mean, I know some people can go to extraordinary lengths to rationalize magic, but."

"I think she does," Murphy said. "Rich seems to be doing his best to forget. Ten bucks that the next time he sees us he won't even mention it."

That was probably true. A lot of people, when confronted with something they couldn't explain, couldn't even bother rationalizing it— they just ignored it. Rich seemed like that type. Maybe it would just manifest in the form of glaring at me a little extra hard next time we met, probably pushing me around at some Murphy family reunion or something. Or with the way things were going he and Lisa would have their first kid on Murph's birthday.

There was music playing now, and Lisa and Rich stepped out to commence a dance that was both highly choreographed and extremely awkward. I saw the look on Murphy's face and fulfilled my duty as best friend by whispering snarky things about them in her ear.

"She does not!" Murphy said, laughing, just as her mother approached us.

I attempted to look respectable, an impossible feat when you're me, holding a giant wizard's staff, and wearing an old-fashioned cloak.

"Karrie," she said, and then, to me; "Mr. Dresden. That's quite the… interesting outfit."

"Thought I'd dress up for the occasion," I said, flashing a grin. "It's my nicest— only the best for the happy couple."

"I invited him, Mom," Murphy said. "I get a plus one, don't I?"

"Sure," Mrs. Murphy said, with a smile that was much more genuine than I'd anticipated. "I'm glad to see you bringing someone around, Karrin. And glad to see you and your sister getting along too— stop off for some bonding time before the ceremony?"

Murphy and I shared a smile. "Something like that, Mom," Murph said.

Mrs. Murphy gave us a mysterious sort of mother look, fond and kind of knowing. I had no idea what the look was about, and decided on dread as the appropriate emotion.

"Okay," she said. "Have fun. Oh, you should go dance." Then Mrs. Murphy, the traitor, put a hand in the small of both of our backs, and pushed us out onto the dance floor just as the next song started.

"Methinks we've been set up," I told Murphy, as other couples started crowding the floor around us.

"Possibly," Murphy said. "Don't step on my toes; I didn't wear the steel tips today."

I grinned at her, a little surprised she was willing to go through with it, and grabbed her hand and her waist. "I will have you know that I can ballroom dance with the best of them. I saw that Swayze movie like three times."

"Ha, yeah, right," Murphy said, and then apparently saw the look in my eye, because she managed to get out "oh, no—" before I suddenly spun her out away from me, us still connected at one hand. I pulled her back in and winked obnoxiously.

"I wish I had one of those flowers for in between my teeth," I said mournfully.

"I hope you choke on the thorns," Murphy said, and then in a whip-quick move, repeated the same twirl trick on me. It was considerably more impressive when she did it, because Murphy is several feet shorter and smaller than I am.

"Wow," I said, without meaning to. Her smile turned a lot more genuine then, and without discussing it, we started dancing for real, that sort of slow half-dance famous of weddings everywhere. No fancy footwork or anything, just two slightly tired friends moving to the music.

"Now, I could be wrong," I said, "But I don't think this was a normal level of danger for a wedding."

Murphy grinned. "You'd be surprised," she said. "I think some of my cousins are a little upset I didn't throw a fit and turn this into a bloodbath. There were probably some side bets involved."

"Remind me never to underestimate a Murphy," I said. "Not that I ever would."

Lisa and Rich were now apparently trying to get so close as to mingle their atoms on the dance floor, pressed up against each other and dancing pretty much only in name. Me and Murphy watched them.

"She loves attention, doesn't she?" Murphy grumbled.

On cue, Lisa and Rich started to make out, and we both groaned. I made a fake gagging face, and Murphy twirled us away from the newlyweds, pretending like she was a brave knight sweeping a princess away.

"Thanks for coming with me," Murphy told me. "I should have made you my plus one in the first place. You definitely make things interesting."

"My specialty," I said.

The slow music stopped; the DJ started blaring Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. A horde of women descended on the dance floor with unholy glee.

I noticed that Murphy had plotted us a tactical exit off the dance floor, in perfect sight of the untouched dessert table. I looked at Murphy, still joined to me by one hand. The desserts were piled high; the traditional cake plus a variety of cookies, pies, and fruits.

"We wouldn't," I said.

"We shouldn't," Murphy said.

We contemplated this for a moment while the stupid peppy pop music played in the background.

"On the other hand she did marry your ex-husband," I said.

"This is true," Murphy said. "I got the pie, you get that plate of snickerdoodles."

"You got it."

As the music hit a high point, Murphy and I ninja'd in and out. I juked left and she juked right, grabbing our prizes and spinning so that we had a clear path away from the wedding party. One of the snickerdoodles hit the floor as I ran, but I couldn't go back for a fallen soldier.

Murphy was more evil than I thought— with the hand not occupied by the apple pie, I saw her swipe a finger through the frosting of the wedding cake. She put her finger in her mouth as we ran.

"Tastes like butt," she told me, clearly holding back giggles. It was rare to see Murphy like this, which set me off into my own laughter, which I at least attempted to stifle. Murph was in hysterics by the time we escaped the wedding completely and found ourselves in a hedge maze garden thing.

We crouched in the bushes and ate our stolen goods, which was where Thomas found us, still laughing hysterically.

"There's something wrong with you two," Thomas informed us, and sat on the ground next to us. "Ooh, snickerdoodles."

We shared with him, because we were generous like that. We had been eating the pie with our fingers, though, which for some reason Thomas declined to try.

"Strike out with the catering staff?" I asked.

"The pretty one was gay," Thomas said, sulkily. "And I assumed it would be suicide to go after anyone else until I found out whether or not they were a Murphy."

"Smart choice," Murphy said.

"Well, I've brought peace offerings," Thomas said, and pulled an entire bottle of champagne out of his jacket pocket.

Murphy wolf-whistled, and I clapped. "You should have led with this," I said, while Murphy took the champagne and wrestled with the gold wrapping.

"I assume you have something to drink this out of in that rat's nest you call a coat," Thomas said. I grinned. One time I'd pulled out an entire slice of pizza in front of him, and the look on his face wasn't one I was likely to forget any time soon.

"A Boy Scout always comes prepared," I said. "Hold out your hands."

Thomas did so, albeit warily, and Murphy finally popped open the champagne.

"Hold these," I said, and started digging through my coat. I knew exactly where I had what I was looking for, but now both Murph and Thomas were watching me in amusement, obviously waiting for a show.

I pulled out a ball of yarn, then a little worry doll, then a piece of barbed wire, wrapped up in a clear glasses case. I gave them to Thomas as I patted my pockets theatrically.

"Why do you have so much stuff?" Murphy asked, laughing already. She took a swig directly from the bottle.

"All of this has come in handy," I said, offended, and handed Thomas a rock. I found a tin of safety pins, a bottle of nail polish, and then let my face light up, as if I'd found what I was looking for.

"Here it is!" I said, and pulled out the cup and saucer I use to feed Toot-Toot and the other fae— about the length of my thumb.

This earned me a chorus of boos and cheers, and they threw some of our pilfered desserts at me.

"You guys are so ungrateful," I said, starting to tuck various odds and ends back into my duster. I got hit with a snickerdoodle, and grinned. "Fine, fine." Finally, I pulled out a tin set of camping mugs, stacked neatly within each other.

"Hooray," Murphy said dryly, taking them from me and starting to pour champagne.

Thomas stared at his dubiously. "What was in these last?" he asked suspiciously.

"Uh," I said. "Nothing harmful."

Both of them paused a moment, then shrugged and threw theirs back at the same time. I followed suit, bubbles tickling at my nose.

I dunked a snickerdoodle in and leaned back into the hedge. Leaves and branches poked down the back of my shirt. The combination of cookie and champagne wasn't terrible, but it wasn't that good either.

"Wedding rating," Thomas said. "On a scale of one to ten. Go."

"Six," I said. "Two points for the goo monster, one for making Lisa climb across a river in her wedding robe, and three for that old guy falling asleep during the ceremony."

"Uncle Albert," Murphy said fondly. "He remembered Rich from my wedding with him, and called Lisa by my name in the reception line."

"Ten out of ten," declared Thomas. "Family drama, possibility of maiming, dessert, and drinks. Checks all the boxes."

"Negative four," said Murphy, and she topped up all our camping mugs. "If I ever try to get married again, shoot me in the head."

Behind us, the music started to play just a little bit louder. We all paused to listen to it.

The beat was peppy, upbeat, familiar…

It was Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.

We groaned.