AN: you all seemed to enjoy this , so I'll keep going.
"Are we lost?"
"I have no memory of this place," I admitted, looking up from the map of Missouri spread across the steering wheel. French fry fingerprints marred the margins. "But I think I know which exit we missed." I folded it and tossed it on the dash, adjusted the seat again but didn't mess with the stereo, set to a classic rock station. "At least you listen to decent music."
"Already tiring of the pop-punk scene? Could be worse." Murphy air-drummed idly along to Radar Love with a red plastic spoon. "Could be boy bands."
"It is boy bands," I grumbled. "Just edgy boy bands with guitars and eyeliner."
"That's nothing new." She hadn't relinquished the driver's seat until we were south of St. Louis, where the riverbank lowlands of the Mississippi gave way to limestone hills, thick forests and muggy air from the storm that had blown through a few hours ahead of us. "The music may change, but the pants stay tight as ever."
"Solid point. Still not a fan." I put the Saturn into gear, pulling away from the Dairy Queen parking lot riddled with rain-filled potholes, in what seemed like the thousandth single-stoplight town between Chicago and our destination. The sign above our heads glowed red against a brilliant night sky. Across the empty highway, a peeling billboard over a vacant tire shop bore a threatening Bible verse. The newer billboard next to it advertised an adult video store called Big Bob's Booby Barn. We had already taken turns trying to say it five times fast, at the risk of summoning Big Bob himself. Murphy had snapped a picture of the sign with her phone to show regular-sized Bob, who was sure to be thrilled.
She took another bite of Oreo Blizzard. "I used to try to put my music on in our cruiser, when I was a rookie."
"I bet Carmichael put a stop to that pretty quick."
"He sang a few lines of No Scrubs while we were picking up coffee. Right in front of the hunky barista. I didn't touch the stereo for months. Feels weird to listen to anything else, now." Her smile faded a little and she stirred her ice cream. "Feels weird to be in this seat again."
It felt weird to be the driver. The air conditioner only made the occasional hiccup, and the backlit dashboard flickered a little at my presence behind the wheel. "Was he really so hunky, or were you just after free coffee?"
"No free coffee after that. It was mortifying." She glanced at me, trying not to grin. "Don't do that unless I'm there to help."
"Molly already thinks you don't like her." And I thought I had issues with authority figures. The kid had run afoul of both mortal and magical law, and Murph had been graciously listening to me vent for the past hour or so about all the terrifying new responsibilities that came with teaching a young wizard. One more youthful indiscretion on Miss Carpenter's part and we'd both get fully Doom-of-Damoclese'd for it.
"Oh, I'm sure," Karrin snorted. "She probably thinks that about all of the women in your life."
All of the women? Including my apprentice, that number could be rounded up to a solidly pathetic three. Maybe four, but I wasn't sure the Xerox copy of a fallen angel living literally rent-free in my brain counted, and I wasn't going to ask.
"I do like her. It's funny, though. She keeps giving me these flashbacks to high school," Murphy continued wryly. "It's a really specific brand of secondhand embarrassment."
I frowned. I couldn't imagine Karrin getting in that much trouble, for anything, ever. She was the kind of person who put her seatbelt on to cross a parking lot. But she was also the kind of person who had no qualms about calling in fake bomb threats when necessary. Maybe I just couldn't imagine her getting caught. I'd seen a few pictures of her as a rebellious teenager and her most questionable fashion choices were a bad shag haircut and one of those black motorcycle jackets covered in zippers and pockets. The latter of which she still wore, so it couldn't have been that embarrassing.
The odometer clicked over another mile, the lights of the little town dimmed behind us as we doubled back along the highway. The Saturn cruised comfortably, collecting its share of splattered bugs on the windshield.
"So did she try it?"
"... What?"
"Molly," she said, matter-of-factly. "Did she try to make a move on you?"
I blinked. Every light on the dashboard flickered in simultaneous electronic dismay and the radio blared a few seconds of static. Murphy raised an eyebrow, waiting for my answer, already knowing it.
"Yeah. She tried." I cleared my throat. "After the whole thing with the Council. I handled it," I added, quickly.
"Handled it?" She grimaced as I explained what I'd done, and stared out the window for another mile, silently watching the fence posts blur past.
"You think I was too harsh," I said.
"No, not at all. Just thinking how different my life might be if somebody would have had the decency to dump a pitcher of ice water on me."
… Well. That was a mental image. I almost missed the highway exit again. "I mean, if you really want—"
"Eyes on the road, Harry." She brandished the red plastic spoon like a weapon, laughing. "It's too late for me. My inappropriate teenage crush took full advantage of my feelings and no one said anything or tried to put a stop to it. My own mother encouraged it. And we all know how that ended."
"... In a court date?" I guessed.
She gave me a sideways look and snorted. It had completely slipped my mind that she had gotten married for the first time when she was seventeen, to someone considerably older. It hadn't lasted long. Her second ex had recently taken up with her barely-legal sister.
So, understandably, she had some… thoughts. Just not the ones I expected.
"Can't fault her for trying," Murphy said as she put the empty Blizzard cup in the crumpled paper bag with the burger wrappers and ketchup packets. "It's like some Catholic schoolgirls cooked you up in a lab somewhere. The magic powers. The long black coat. I'm surprised this hasn't happened before."
"I blame Joss Whedon," I said, my face so hot it could have powered all of Chicago for a week.
She cackled. "I guess I never realized how silly I must have looked at that age until I saw Molly at the hotel, staring at you with those big puppy-dog eyes, and you, making that horrified face." I cringed and she laughed even harder. "Yeah, that face. You looked more scared of her than any of those movie monsters."
"I feel like I broke her poor little heart," I said, and she made a sympathetic sound and patted my arm. I had to wonder if she felt the same way when she shot me down, so practical, so painfully pragmatic: I couldn't do something casual and she didn't want anything serious, and if she ever did, it would be with someone she could build a life with, start a family. Not someone who was going to outlive her by centuries. Not me.
That conversation had lodged in my brain like shrapnel.
"She's a tough kid, she'll be okay." Murphy yawned. "Good on you for having some decency, though. Even if it's only because her mother has that mean right hook."
"Not only."
"Mm-hm," she teased, rubbing at her eyes.
"Do you really think so little of me?" I asked, only half-joking.
"Dresden, you are a beacon of chivalry." Karrin reached between the seats for her gray field jacket. "The very standard of behavior by which all men should be judged."
"You're mocking me."
"I'm not. I mean it." She bumped the lever to make the passenger seat recline a little and wedged the jacket between her shoulder and the window as a pillow. "It's annoying as hell."
I wasn't sure if she was alluding to the fact that I sometimes tried to hold doors for her and pick up the tab at lunch, or the fact that I wanted more than a friends-with-benefits relationship. I bravely changed the subject. "I see how it is. You only wanted me to drive so you could sleep."
"Not only." She settled back into the seat, eyes closed. "You're somewhat less likely to get us permanently lost in the Ozarks."
"Somewhat," I agreed. Things were starting to look familiar, the little farms off in the valleys, the turnoffs that led to tiny dirt road communities way back in the sticks. More than one sign for trailheads in the Mark Twain National Forest, where my own mentor had taken me to learn his style of earth magic. A good place for it — the stony rolling highlands were actually the core of an ancient mountain range that had eroded away millions of years ago. Lots of caves and ravines, and lots of wildlife.
It could be any number of things preying on the farm animals; coyotes, a hungry bear or a mountain lion. I'd read a while back that a few endangered red wolves had even been spotted in the area. If that's what it was, this was going to be a hassle. Maybe it was a good idea to bring my pocket cop after all, just in case I had to deal with the game warden and sheriff.
"Murph. You asleep?"
"Mm. Trying to remember where the closest Dairy Queen is relative to my house—"
"Bloomingdale."
"Savant," she mumbled fondly. "Are we there yet?"
"I will turn this car around."
The radio station began an after-midnight program with a smoky-voiced female DJ who played the kind of stuff you'd pick if you were cruising around after midnight with a woman in the passenger seat. I adjusted the volume but didn't change it. The woman in the passenger seat dozed, features pale in the moonlight, expressionless except for the stubborn furrow of her brow. If she was having trouble sleeping again, she'd never mention it to me.
Steering with my clumsy left hand, I fumbled behind the passenger seat for the White Sox stadium blanket she always keeps in the car. I shook it over her. She sighed softly and curled up underneath it.
"Ugh." I frowned at her. "Stop being cute."
Eyes on the road, Harry.
Lucky I looked up when I did. A dark shape slunk out into the highway at the bottom of the hill; a big, shaggy dog.
"Hell's bells." I stepped on the brake. I didn't want to hit it, but I definitely didn't want to risk a wreck. The Saturn stopped well, even on wet pavement; no squealing tires or fishtailing. Murphy didn't even wake up, snoring softly, warm beneath the arm I had thrown out in reflex when I hit the brakes. I wanted to shake her awake, to ask if she saw it too, but I couldn't move.
The dog didn't move either, except to lower its head and stare back at me, the headlights reflected green-white in its eyes. Bigger than Mouse, huge and rangy and so dark it seemed to absorb light, standing not fifteen feet from the front bumper. Steam rose from the highway, curling in wisps around its paws.
There were any number of predators in the Ozarks, but there were only a few things that could be.
I blinked and it was gone.
stay tuned