Earlier...

Harry patted the chesterfield impatiently. "Sit. We don't have long before your girlfriend starts looking for you."

I snorted. "Lasciel isn't my girlfriend, Harry."

"Ah, but she's screwing you regardless."

It was beginning to feel that way, yeah. I'd known better than to trust her, and yet I'd done it anyway. But still, I felt the need to defend her. Or maybe to just defend myself, so I didn't look half as stupid as I felt.

"She's not all bad, you know. I think there might be some part of her that actually cares."

"Nobody is all bad, Molly. Even Hitler loved his dogs. Even if you're right and there is some part of her that does care for you, it actually makes things worse. She's a demon, so I'm pretty sure she's not capable of selfless love. She can't let you go if it's in your best interest. It means she'll fight to hold onto you. Will probably try to kill you if she can't. Now sit, kid. Before I pull you onto my lap and give you the spanking you're in desperate need of."

I took the seat he'd indicated, reclining lazily so that the slit in the dress opened wider, revealing more leg. Harry eyed the bared flesh, mouth curling into a wolfish grin. My body warmed by a few degrees. It was the goatee that did it, I think. Added a roguish edge of danger to a man I already found unreasonably attractive.

"Good. Now, let's get down to brass tacks. You came here to give me the sales pitch. I'm here to make you a counteroffer."

I snuggled into the plush couch and crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm the one in your head, Harry, backed by a freaking fallen angel. What makes you think that I even want to hear it?"

"She does," he said, nodding toward the far wall.

I followed his gaze back the way I'd come, expecting to find the entryway I'd entered through. Instead, it had been replaced by a heavy steel door, of the sort that one found on bank vaults. Standing in front of it was...me.

At least, she looked a lot like me. But after so long with Lasciel, I knew that I couldn't take anything at face value. Everything I'd learned about illusions I'd learned from her. It could be a construct. The devil on my shoulder, so to speak. Which ironically made Harry the angel. Things had to be bad when the devil on your shoulder always sounded reasonable, and the one playing the lyre was Harry Dresden.

But somehow, I didn't think this was a ploy of Lasciel's. The other woman looked like combat Barbie. With my proportions, though she seemed stronger than me, somehow. Green BDUs, heavy combat boots, my natural blonde hair swept up into a bun and pushed beneath a patrol cap, an M-16 held tight across her body, aimed for the door.

She barely glanced over, and just acknowledged Harry's statement with a curt nod.

"Who...is she?" I felt a little stupid for having to ask the question.

Harry shrugged, and the big gray tomcat on his lap signaled its displeasure at being moved by arching up lazily and stalking off into Harry's mental landscape.

"She's me, sort of. Your version of me, at least. Your id. Your survival instinct. Your gut. Whatever you want to call it. But she's the part in charge of keeping you alive, even when the rest of you is dead set against the idea."

"The Council of Molly," I muttered, recalling a long-ago conversation I'd had with Lasciel's shadow. She'd said I personified more parts of myself than most of her hosts. "So...if she's here, where are the rest of them?"

"The ones loyal to your best interests are out there running interference, so this conversation can take place. But it's a house divided, Molls. A lot of them have thrown in with Lasciel. Gotta admit she's a great motivational speaker. Easy to forget she's an infernal bitch."

A dry chuckle escaped me. "No kidding. Just one thing, though. How did you know about her? I mean, you've been in the know for what? Two minutes now?"

Harry's id snorted out a humorless sound. "I've known since you told that story about the Fellowship. The moron in charge only just put the pieces together. God, I swear I'm the only reason the numbskull has survived ninety percent of the clusterfucks we've found ourselves in."

"How'd you know it was a lie? It could have been possible."

"Possible but not probable. The Reds don't usually blood kids. They like to farm families. Get them addicted to the kiss and turn them into livestock. Let them breed to make more victims. Obviously not going to happen with your family. And if they had taken you, it'd make more sense to ransom you. Force Michael or I into a confrontation. I've been public enemy number one for years. They wouldn't pass up an opportunity to set up a trap and dangle you like bait."

He had a point. I knew all of that, logically. And as much as I disliked the idea of being someone's helpless victim, the plan made a hell of a lot of sense. Harry had started a war over the woman he loved. He'd sure as hell rush into trouble for the daughter of his best friend.

Harry waved airily. "Nah. The timing was the thing. You went missing not long after Nicodemus left town two years ago. I wondered even then, but when nothing turned to more nothing, I let it drop. But then Nic shows his face in Chicago again. Lo and behold, you turn up on your father's doorstep days before, just as I feared he might. I don't believe in coincidences, kid. I knew you had to be in on it somehow. The only question was just how much control he had over you."

"If you've suspected this, why didn't you confide in my father?"

"Because he doesn't get enough sleep as it is. Do you think he could ever have a moment's peace if that scenario occurred to him? I wasn't going to say anything until I was sure."

"Hurry it up," Combat-Molly said tersely. "She's working faster than anticipated. Make your offer, Dresden."

Harry scooted closer to me on the distressed leather and considered me for a long moment, eyes narrowed. There was none of the gentle good-humor I'd seen from him in the past. This man was cool, confident, and dangerous. He'd fight me if it came down to it. He couldn't shove me out of his head, but he could make sure the result of our mental surgery ended up a botch job. He'd destroy himself before he was turned into a weapon against those he loved. I could see all of that in the merciless stare.

"She's right. We do need to wrap this up. The way I see it, this is going to play out one of three ways. One, you continue working for Nicodemus. You hurt people. I'm forced to take you down." He raised a second finger, tallying the next option. "Two, you double-cross Nicodemus at some point and work solo. You're still hurting people. I'm still forced to track you and take you down."

I pursed my lips unhappily. "Any of these options involve me coming out alive?"

He smirked and held up a third finger. "Three. You drop Lasciel's coin. You come back to us. You do the right thing."

I worked hard to swallow. "It's not that simple, and you know it. Nicodemus is holding a hostage against me. If I don't do what he asks, someone is going to die. It shouldn't bother me, after everything I've done. But it does."

"No, it's good that it still matters. It means you're not completely beyond reach. You may come out the other side of this as a somewhat moral person."

"Thanks? But that still doesn't solve my problem. And even if he weren't holding Jordan's life in the balance, I'm not sure I want to let her go. She's...she's done a lot for me, Harry. I've accomplished a lot with her. She's going to help me destroy the Red Court. And after that, we'll part ways."

"You know that's not true, kid. There will always be a reason to keep her around. You're a black magic junkie, and you're in love with your dealer. The only way you get out of this alive is by quitting cold turkey. And it's going to hurt. I've seen outside this room kid. I got a good look when GI Jane brought me in for this talk. It's not pretty. There's damage I didn't know was possible. You don't feel it because she's feeding you a constant drip to keep you placid."

"You're no Billy Mays, Harry."

He smoothed a hand through his artfully tousled hair. Definitely going for the Brosnan look. Along with the suit jacket and slightly upturned collar. Yum. What I'd do to this man if I had an hour and a bottle of gin.

"I'm saying you have options, kid. Here's my deal. I'm going to let you install that sleeper command if you decide to play ball with me."

"I'm listening."

Another wolfish grin flashed across his face. My thighs rubbed together a little. He noticed, and the grin stretched another half-inch.

"You tell Nicodemus you planted a command to drop me. You don't let on it's a one-time trick. You don't let on to Lasciel or Nicodemus that there are, in fact, two other sleeper commands you're putting in as well. One to reveal this conversation to my conscious mind when the time is right. And another to be tripped if you decide you want to get out of the game. You install those nifty pain blocks so I can come to your rescue if need be."

"That sounds...like a good plan, actually. But how the hell am I supposed to keep this from Lasciel? If you haven't noticed, she's sort of co-owner of the space. Not a lot goes on without her knowing."

"No, she's a guest in your home, Molly. You just let her rule the roost. And, as GI Jane tells me, you created this little panic room in your head a week ago. After you had sex the first time, though, I'm not sure why that detail is relevant."

My cheeks flooded with heat. It sort of made sense, given the details I was now privy to. Parts of my brain were trying to stage a coup against Lasciel. What better time to dig out a foxhole than when she was occupied by the vampire's invading Hunger? Thomas's actions had given me enough control to act rationally for the last several days. And some of that control had to have been squirreled away to create this place.

"It's not impregnable," I guessed. "Or she wouldn't be here with us."

"No, not impregnable. But sturdy and unobtrusive. Hidden near a place the demon shies away from. Keep a tight lid on your control, and you should be able to keep it a secret until the time is right."

"She's coming," Combat-Molly informed us grimly. "Decision time, lady. What's it going to be?"

I let out a shaking breath, thought about it for a half a second, and then shrugged. No harm in having a backup, even if I didn't use it.

"Alright. Let's do it. What are our three trigger phrases?"

Harry's smirk only grew. "Well, here's what I was thinking..."