I stopped dead on the sidewalk, the overnight bag in my hand threatening to take a tumble to the snow-covered yard. I was supposed to be traveling to see my mom and siblings at a secondary location at least one more time before taking off. At least, that was the story I was selling everyone. In reality, I was going to be hiding under a veil at Shedd Aquarium within the hour, aiding Namshiel in getting the greater circle set up.

Sanya, my father, Lieutenant Murphy were gathered on the front lawn, about to head into the mounting blizzard to meet with Nicodemus at the Archive's chosen location. There'd been three possibilities, all of which the others had been busy preparing for. It was why Nicodemus had sent me in long before anyone else arrived. Preparations like that took time. Time enough for a Knight or two to bumble their way in and ruin everything.

I had received a staged phone call on the landline in the kitchen from Hannah, who'd been prompted by Nicodemus. She'd talked to my father. Charmed him as only Hannah was capable. Shared war stories with and about me and had actually claimed to be my two-year girlfriend, which had made my father turn an interesting shade of pink. Especially after I'd shown him our group photo (taken at a distance with an old-school model), with Hannah hanging off of me in a bikini. It had effectively curbed the questions about where I was going and why I was eager to leave. Why stay in snowy, dangerous Chicago when there was a sexy, sunkissed (supposedly) half-vampire woman waiting for me in a tropical paradise?

Sanya approved, clapping me on the back with a hearty: "Good for you. You get some."

They were only supposed to be waiting on the Captain of the Wardens-also known as the real reason I was eager to leave.

So why the hell was there a vampire on our front lawn? That vampire in particular?

He lounged arrogantly against the side of the vehicle, looking like he was there to sell my father's van to some woman thinking with her libido instead of her wallet. All of the assembled Avengers turned to face me as my steps crunched to a halt. My father's smile dropped a fraction, and there was a touch of sadness in his eyes. Murphy looked pleased to see me. Sanya still had a smirk plastered all over his face, like he was picturing the date I supposedly had planned when I arrived in Belize.

And Thomas Raith blinked at me once in shock. I stared back, equally nonplussed.

Lasciel made a kitten-like sound of frustration that was far too cute than the situation actually called for.

"I told you."

"Yeah, yeah. Rub it in later. Damage control now."

I slapped a smile onto my face and continued down the drive, stopping when I was level with my father's elbow.

"I'm about ready to head out," I told him, leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Who's the new guy?"

Thomas was looking from dad to me with mounting trepidation. He wisely kept his handsome mouth shut while dad pulled me in for a hug.

"This is Thomas. He's a friend of Harry's. Thomas, this is my eldest, Molly. She's just come home. She's been working alongside the Fellowship for the last two years."

"The one that was missing?" Thomas said. With the suspicion in his tone, he sounded a lot like Harry. "The one Daniel got the Doom for? I thought she was dead."

He said it coolly, as though I'd held a gun to Daniel's head and forced him to raise an army of zombies. I scowled back, regretting my decision to jump into bed with him more and more. This was the man I'd decided to lose my virginity to? Tragic. I'd never drink again.

"She's Red Court infected," Harry said, mirroring Thomas' skepticism. "Bianca's stragglers had been lying in wait. Took her as revenge for Michael's part in it."

"Hm." Thomas's brows shot up. "Right. Got any other bags, Miss Carpenter? I can help you."

"I'm good."

"Show me to the kitchen then? I'm about to run Summer's goons around in the hopes that Harry'll live long enough wise up and get laid. I need a Coke."

"Thomas!"

Thomas' grin was unrepentant, though it faded by degrees as he turned it on me. Those gray eyes positively scorched me.

"How bout it, Miss Carpenter? One more for the road?"

Heat flooded into my cheeks at the innuendo. I couldn't help the full-body wiggle that resulted from just the memory of his hands on me. Surreal as the experience had been, it was probably good that Anduriel had kissed me. It helped me have some sort of comparison and convinced me that Thomas's touch was not the most pleasurable thing I'd ever experienced.

It was still really, really nice, though.

His message was clear. We can talk about it here or in the kitchen. Your choice, kid.

"Sure. The drinks are in the fridge. I'll show you."

I hiked my bag up on my shoulder and trooped right back inside. What was I going to have to do to keep his mouth shut? Promise to let him feed on me again? It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. But it would be running things close if I was going to make it to the parley.

Well, finding me bent over the counter being plowed by a White Court vampire was one way to keep my father away from Shedd Aquarium. Though not the one I'd have chosen. I wasn't sure if it was possible for him to rip Thomas apart with his bare hands, but he'd try.

Thomas swung the doors shut the second we were alone and rounded on me in the next.

"So who are you really?"

"You know I'm getting really sick of people asking me that. I'm not lying. Daniel soulgazed me. He knows I am who I say I am."

"You gazed me as well, Carpenter. More than that, my demon touched you. I don't know what that thing inside you is, but it's not a Red."

I darted a panicked glance out the window. Had anyone been standing near enough to overhear?

"That's none of your business."

"It is my business if its putting people in danger. What is it?"

"The only person in danger is you," I informed him coolly. "What do you think my father or Harry will do if they find out you fed on me? It'll be a contest to see what kills you first. Fire or blood loss. Or maybe Murphy will arrest you instead. I've only recently turned seventeen after all."

Thomas, somehow, managed to get paler. Those gray eyes bled to silver as he glared at me.

"Seventeen?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"In August."

His face screwed up into an expression of extreme disgust, though I wasn't sure who he was more furious with, himself, or me.

"Empty night."

"I'm leaving in under an hour. Keep this to yourself and we won't have problems. I won't tell if you won't. We'll blame it on the alcohol and go about our merry way." I raised a taunting brow at him and, unable to help myself, sneered; "Unless you still want one more for the road, lover?"

"Don't call me that."

"What? You don't want my father to know exactly how I moaned your name when you were-"

"Christ alive, I'm not going to tell!"

"And that thing that you do with your-"

"Are you done?" he snapped. "You've made your point."

I lifted a brow. "Your word on that?"

Somehow he made even the furious grinding of teeth sound sexy.

"If you hurt Harry, you'll wish I'd ended you."

The 'bitch' remained unsaid but heartily implied.

"Understood. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make and a cab to catch."

I ducked into the bathroom while he exited, and then pulled out my sending stone. Not the most dignified place to call in, but he'd have to put up with it. I'd barely activated the spellwork when someone opened the door to the bathroom and knocked the thing clean out of my hands. It went tumbling to the floor outside of the bathroom. I scrabbled to recover it but, too late. A pair of calloused male hands beat me to it.

Harry lifted the thing up to the light to examine it, recognition flashing in his eyes before he turned the accusatory stare to me. He knew what it was. And in the greater context of what they were up against, he knew there was one of two groups I'd be contacting.

I lunged, throwing my body into his, and did the only thing I could think of at the time. I threw my arms around his shoulders, slung my legs around his waist and clung on, pressing my lips to his.

Harry was shocked into stillness at the amorous assault and let out a small, almost unwilling moan when Lasciel's seductive draw hit him like a battering ram. He staggered back a step and, before catching himself on the wall. But those confused seconds were all I needed to get the upper hand.

"Dorme, dormius, Harry."

He let out a soft sound of protest before he went down. I ended up sprawled against his chest, half-straddling him. It wasn't as sexy as I'd always imagined it. My fourteen-year-old self had pictured us a little further to the right, in the bathtub. Preferably with a lot of bubble bath. Instead, I had to use most of my Lasciel-fueled strength to drag him the rest of the way into the bathroom. Then I nudged the door shut with my toes.

Damn it, why had he just come bursting in? Now there was very little to be done.

"Help me, Lash. This can't be a hatchet job. They'll know."

Lasciel's sigh caressed the back of my neck as she leaned over me. "Of course, my host. Perhaps we ought to lock the door next time?"

"Chide me later. We're running out of time."

"Just the last few minutes? Or shall we alter his suspicions entirely?"

I shivered. I didn't like the idea of tinkering in Harry's head. An indelicate hand was just going to make the damage worse.

And then the idea struck me.

"Could you fix what's wrong with him?"

"My host?"

"The damage. It's mental. We could heal it, right?"

"Perhaps. But to what point and purpose?"

"Nicodemus wanted him. He could still be useful. You want soldiers? He's a worthy choice. Let me talk to his subconscious while you work. I can sway him."

"My host..."

"I'll place trigger as well. Something to get him out of the fight. Even if he does recover, he's still at our mercy. Nicodemus would like that."

She mulled it over. Briefly. Saw the direction of my thoughts.

"Very well. Speak to him. Quickly."

Minutes later I found myself walking into an elaborate sitting room. And on one of the chesterfields sat a very dapper, very serious version of Harry. He was watching me warily, stroking a cat. He had a freaking goatee.

"This is a little much," I told him with a laugh.

He shrugged. "My head, my choice."

"You're trying to pull off Bond?"

I glanced down at my violet, beaded dress. The slit in the material reached up to my mid-thigh. I caught not-Harry ogling the exposed flesh with undisguised appreciation.

"And I'm Elektra King?"

"Seems fitting."

He patted the empty seat beside him.

"Come on, kid. Sit down. We have a lot to talk about."