Something I should have mentioned before, this is all un-beta-ed. So, please, if you find something that should be fixed, something that I made a mistake with from the original-Butcher series, please do not hesitate to let me know!! Thanks for putting up with me :)

Also, some minor swearing in this chapter.

As I walked downtown towards the local police station, my mind couldn't help but mull over what Bob had said. As much as he was an annoying, nagging, smug, insufferable know-it-all...he was right. This was another case that would poke at me, that would bother me until I solved it. This wasn't just some random act of possible lawless magic, it was a lost and most likely frightened girl, and "damsel in distress" is sort of my gig. Unintentionally, of course, since most of the "damsels" would prefer to knock my teeth in if they knew I was thinking of them in such a "delicate" way.

Women these days.

I sighed to myself, rubbing the back of my head absentmindedly, and waited on a street corner to cross. My stomach growled at me, reminding me that I haven't eaten yet today, and that the day was almost done. Food first. I shifted my shoulders beneath the weight of my coat, shaking at the arm sleeves to free up my left hand and reached into my pocket. Empty stomach, empty wallet; I was starting to pick up on an unhealthy theme here. My stomach growled again, and I started down the street, heading in the opposite direction from the grocer's.

First, visit Murphy, and pick up some cash. Then food.

The first precinct of Chicago. A busy place; full of cops hustling off to wherever they're going, phones ringing off the hook constantly, and papers piled sky high to navigate around. If you can find a chair, you're considered lucky. A desk, a miracle. And a particular cop...well...

"Murph—" I said, putting a smile on my face and raising my hands in a friendly, open-palm gesture. She held up a finger (let you guess which one...no, you're wrong, she was clean) and spoke into a phone cradled between her shoulder and her ear. I made an "oh!" face, ducked my head and turned to leave. Right, like I was going to leave before checking to see if she had any more information or my cash. On cue, as I knew she would, Murphy snapped her fingers at me, waited for me to turn around, and then jerked her thumb at an empty chair beside her desk. I feinted innocent confusion, pointing at my chest and then the chair, then back at myself. She glared up at me, "uh-hu"ing the person at the other end of the phone, and wrote something down on paper. I eased myself down into the chair, moving some loose papers around, and waited. If Murphy wanted me to stay, that either meant she had more information for me (possibly a new case) or she really was worried about this kid.

"Harry..." Murphy started in on me the second the phone reached it cradle and I knew that tone. That particular tone spoke volumes of a bad day made worse by being hounded and ground down by superiors who really didn't like her in the first place. Add that to the long hours, harsh shifts, and lack of sleep or decent food; mix together, pour, and you have one pissed off Lt. Karrin Murphy.

"Nothing yet, Murphy." I held up a hand, cutting her off before she could have a chance to unleash some of that unholy cop fury on me. Her dark look increased, so I elaborated quickly. "I went down to the site, took a look around. Not much to go on, but definite on the something...spooky...happening." I paused, choosing a replacement word for magic that she'd feel more comfortable with.

"Spooky." Murphy nodded. "Spooky is just about on top for you, isn't it. Spooky is good, right?" Her words were rushed, coming out in bursts, distraction pulling beneath the words. I felt my brow scrunch up, confusion written across my face.

"Murph, something going on?" I asked the obvious question, leaning forward to speak low enough for the surrounding officers to not overhear us. But she shook her head, dismissing the conversation before I got a chance to ask anything more. Standing up, Murphy loomed over me and dug into her pocket. Pulling out a wad of bills, she counted out the total, stuffed them into my hand and told me three icy words,

"Go home Dresden."

Yikes. Well, there's only one thing you can do when a five-odd-foot female police officer says that with a fridged glare while managing to loom over you. Pretty much exactly what she tells you to do. I stood up coolly, not allowing my frustration and confusion to rise to the bait of the smart-ass that hangs in the back of my personality and like to open his big mouth unnecessarily. My frame easily towered hers as I stood, yet her gaze remained as cold as before. I could easily press the matter. I could easily use some of my powers to find out what was bothering her, even without breaking one of the laws. But I couldn't do any of it and keep our friendship or professional relationship easily.

"Ok, ok...I'm gone." I told her, backing down on the battle of wills, holding my hands up in a peaceful gesture. I stepped away from her cluttered cubical, my hands still held up. "But it you need any help...if you need anything...you call me, alright, Murphy?" I tossed the words over my shoulder as I left, heading for the exit.

I stepped out of the precinct feeling worse than I did when I walked in. The sun was starting to set already and I had more questions (and less food) than when I started out this morning. I backtracked, headed over to the grocery section of the block, and made a fast run though of the whole area. Fruits, veggies, bread, stuff in cans—---those usually had a decent shelf life, and with a lack of major electricity in my apartment, they were pretty much essentials. I ducked into the mega-mart grocery store to grab a few colder items; beer, a couple large bags of ice, and some frozen pizzas. What can I say? The pixies that clean my place love pizza. Of course, I'm not supposed to talk about them, or they'll disappear and stop cleaning for good. Good thing most people wouldn't believe me anyways, keeps me from accidentally spilling.

Like I would.

One lap around the block and five grocery bags full later, I'm making my way home from a very long and aggravating afternoon. A small amount of money was left, and hopefully that would be enough for my landlord to let me keep staying in my place while I scrape up some more cash for the rent. And last months rent. And the bill for the hole in the front walk, which wasn't entirely my fault. Making a mental note to call Murphy tomorrow about any new cases, I set several of the bags down long enough for me to dig out my set of house keys and moved to unlock the door.

The sound of feet pounding the pavement reached my ears first. I turned, raising my hand to shield my eyes from the glare of the setting sun, and when my vision cleared, I saw a girl running for her life. Straight towards me.

Shit.

I immediately scooped up the bags and dumped them inside, right beside the door. Grabbing my hockey stick-staff, I stood with a braced stance, and shielded my eyes again from the sun. The kid was fully, flat-out running; her head thrown back, her arms pumping back and forth, her hair (blond, honey blond) blowing back from her face like a flag behind her. Whatever she was running from, she was scared big time.

"Keep the door open!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, the words clipped with lack of breath. "Please, for the love of all things, keep the door open!" I stood on the front step, the door wide open behind me, trying to see what she was running from. Nothing. There was nothing there behind her. The streets were completely clear of people, pets, everything. But as she got closer, I started to feel something. A bad something. Coldness started to settle down in my chest, spreading like an ice crystal, stretching out jagged tentacles across the inside of my chest. Icy cold claws scratched up the insides of my ribs, and I knew there was something unseen here, chasing her, and the panic I could see in her eyes confirmed the same feeling. At the last second, I turned to the side, ushering her past my door, and stepped in behind her, firing up my door's protective wards to their highest level. For a second, it felt like a large...something...smashed against the door, blotting out the world in a hazy darkness, and then it disappeared. I waited another minute, waiting to see if it would try to break through the wards again, and then relaxed the grip on my staff.

I turned to look at the girl. She was sprawled across the floor, having tripped on the door jam at the last possible second, and was curled up against herself, murmuring something as she tried to catch her breath.

"Miss...Hey, miss. Are you alright?" I asked her, crouching down to check and see how badly she had smacked her head into the wooden flooring.

She looked up at me, a very scared look in her wide, violet eyes.