A/N: A couple notes. One, I've received a couple requests from folks who would like to write omakes or entire stories based off of the 'Broken' continuity. I'll make a blanket statement right now to anyone who would like to do that: Please do! I don't think anybody would be here without fanfiction, so who am I to say no to fanfiction of fanfiction? I find it flattering, so knock yourselves out. Just let me know when you publish!

Two, a couple people asked me when this fic started what I was thinking when I made Molly the Winter Knight. Well, we're about to have the answer to that… next chapter. Sorry.

Finally, a big thank you to all who have read, enjoyed and reviewed. Not much joy to be had in writing if no one is going to read.

Elaine handed me off to one of the girls we'd rescued. I was pretty much dead on my feet and was only dimly aware of being helped into the back of a minivan, the seats having been ripped out, and flopping down next to Molly. I didn't know how many vehicles we had, or where anyone else was. Mouse climbed in with us. The door was slid shut behind him.

"Hey, teach," she said through a clenched jaw.

"Padawan," I said, eyes closed.

We stayed in silence for a moment. "Are you okay, Harry?"

I popped an eye open. "Seriously, kid? You're asking me? You're the one with the broken leg."

"I know. And it hurts, but… you look done in."

"I'm just exhausted. You've got that Winter Knight superhuman endurance thing going on, so you wouldn't know anything about exhaustion anymore."

She looked away and shuddered. "Believe me, Maeve can be very… energetic."

I found my teeth grinding together. But I did not ask. I would not ask her to talk about that before she was ready. But when she was, I would listen.

And then I would hunt down another Sidhe Lady, and kill her. Maybe have a good talk with her mom, too.

A flush of anger brought back a little consciousness. With it, I heard shouting. Mouse turned his head a let out a low growl.

I heard a vehicle starting and peeling out. At almost the same moment, the driver's door of our van was ripped open, and Thomas jumped in, turned the key and threw the transmission in drive. "Hold on back there!" Mouse instantly dropped flat.

I came the rest of the way awake, and got a hand on Molly's shoulder. Her leg hadn't been braced, and neither of us was strapped down. "Careful, Bo; Daisy and I ain't buckled in!"

"Sorry!" he said, without sounding like it. The van jerked ahead and Molly rolled into me, grunting a little.

"Dammit, Thomas, be careful! What's going on?" I asked.

"Those wolves we put down? They came back."

"What? You said you killed them!" I grabbed a seatbelt, suspended from the ceiling, and pulled it down until it caught, then handed it to Molly to hold onto. She wrapped it around one arm and held onto a cup holder with her other hand.

"We did."

You are in Hell, Harry.

Yeah, so?

Hell exists for one reason: to contain souls. Chicago is in transition, so is not quite Hell, but rather an island within it. Like a bubble beneath a lake of fire. Once killed, they were resorbed, reformed, and sent back.

"Crap," I said.

"What?" Thomas said as he took a corner just a little too sharply. Molly rolled a little, but didn't seem too put out. I crawled up to the front seat.

"Ever see that movie, The Sixth Day?"

"No."

"You didn't miss much, but according Lash, the short version is, the bad guys have unlimited lives."

"Oh, good. It's been a while since I played a bad video game. Why do you like so many bad sci-fi movies?"

"Same reason I make the Alphas tell me all about the internet; to compare to Star Wars, and find it lacking."

I looked through the back window, and sure enough, a large, malformed wolf-like creature was chasing us down. And gaining.

"How far are we from the church?"

"Five minutes, the way I drive."

"Where's everyone else?"

"No idea. Sanya, Lara and Elaine took their vans in other directions."

"Think, Harry, think. Okay. Okay, I've got one bad idea." I turned and rolled out of my seat, crawling to the back door. "How you holding up, grasshopper?"

"Could be better," she said, and she was pale enough that I believed her.

"Molly, I'm not very good with ice magic, but I think the wolf will have a harder time chasing us on a skating rink."

She met my eyes, then nodded. "I see what you're getting at, but I'm not much use right now." To emphasize the point, we hit a bump in the road, bounced, and Molly's eyes all but rolled up into her head.

"I got you covered. I'm very good at drawing in heat for spells."

A few seconds later, I popped the back door open with my left hand, seatbelt wrapped tightly around my wrist, foot braced against the door frame. My right arm was twined with Molly's left, our fingers laced. She held me in a death grip, her right hand extended.

A few months back, I'd tried a similar trick with McCoy. It had worked, but nearly drained me. I drew in my will, and fed it to Molly.

Predominately, the right side of the human body projects energy, and the left absorbs it. There are exceptions, and I've seen wizards toss around magic with their left hands, but I'm not generally that skilled. Ana, who can pretty much weld steel with her left index finger, says it's like a muscle – it has to be flexed and exercised to work, something I've never done. As a result, neither has my former apprentice. She drew in energy as I projected it at her.

Then she turned it into magic. "Arctis," she whispered, and I felt the temperature drop. Ice began to form in our wake, covering the street in a thin sheet.

The wolf responded by going up on the sidewalk. Molly moved her hand, and the wolf leapt back to the street.

Molly dropped her hand. "I can't," she said, breathing hard. "I can't do enough to get in its way."

I made a decision, and held Molly's hand all the tighter. "Try again."

She looked at me, then back at the wolf-thing, which was pretty close now, and obviously looking right at me. The shape of the face gave it away: Phil Denton, twisted into a demon, chasing me down, whether for the thrill, the threat of pain, or simply due to his nature, I would never know.

Molly raised her hand, and I fed her Soulfire.

At her word, a gale of ice and snow coalesced behind the van, instantly covering the street, sidewalks, cars, and walls in a thick sheet of winter wonderland. One of the doors tried to swing shut, and I had to kick out a leg over Molly to keep it out of her way.

The Denton wolf hit the ice and started to slide. "Thomas, any time now!" I shouted.

A moment later, my brother cranked the wheel, and we shot down another street, out of the wolf's way. Molly killed the special effects, and Denton slid, hit the end of the ice, and pitched forward, hitting a parked vehicle face first and losing his footing.

He'd be up again in a moment, but we'd be back at the church by then.

Beside me, Molly took a deep breath. "We did it!" she breathed.

"Yeah," I said, suddenly light-headed. "We did."

I felt myself leaning back, but before I felt the van's floor, I was unconscious.

"Harry," Lash was saying, "you have to be more careful."

"What do you mean?" I asked. I was sitting in my office, behind my desk. It was our favourite meeting place, despite having suffered from a bad case of explosive.

And yes, that's the end of that sentence.

She was perched on the corner of my desk, hair a flaming red, toga a beautiful off-white.

"The Soulfire," she said. "You burn through it more quickly here, so long as the Transit is even partial."

"Is that why I'm exhausted?"

"Partially. Your soul itself is depleted, though not completely gone. Mostly, you are exhausted because you've barely slept in days. And have been using magic almost non-stop. I'm doubtful you could cast a spell right now if you tried."

I thought about it. I didn't have the strength to lift my arm to point at her while I told her off, even here in my own mind. "You… might be right."

"There is little I can do for you now." She paused, looking away from me. "Unless you were to take up the coin."

I tilted my head at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"I know. I said I would not tempt you again, and I am not. I'm simply stating an option." She wouldn't meet my eyes. "It would give you the strength you need. Though… it would destroy who you are."

"It would destroy you, too. You'd be overwritten by Lasciel."

"I know," she whispered. "But you would live, and have the power to finish saving your city. Your friends. Everyone and everything you love." Was that a tear?

"Lash," I said, gently. "It's not an option. And until I have absolutely no other ways of doing what I'm doing, it never will be." I managed to lift a hand, and took hers. It was much easier than I'd expected. "Quite frankly, we both deserve better."

She looked at me, a tiny curve to one side of her mouth. "I've watched humanity from their creation. People like you come along rarely, Harry Dresden. Perhaps only once or twice a generation."

"What can I say? I gotta be me."

She took a deep breath. "Harry, I can slow the… the burn rate. Of the Soulfire. But while doing so, I would be unable to help in any other way. It is… consuming."

I twitched an eyebrow at her choice of words. "Consuming?"

"Of my attention," she said quickly.

"Well, I'll keep it in mind."

I blinked and was back in the van, lying next to Molly as we slid to a hard stop. My head bounced off the passenger chair. "Ow."

"Sorry," Thomas said. "We're here." He sounded completely out of breath, like he'd just been scared.

I came fully awake, rolled over, and forced my way up to my knees. "Are you okay?"

He looked in the rearview mirror. "There were other demons," he said.

I looked out the back window, at the street at the edge of the church's property. There were, indeed, 'others.' Demons. Small, large, twisted, recognizable, multi-limbed and amorphous blobs. Describing them doesn't really help. They were ugly. They never stopped moving, or agitating. There were half a dozen in sight, spread out at roughly equal intervals, all hot-footing from one leg to another to another.

And more were slowly coming into sight from around various corners.

Crap.

They were all ugly, but not one resembled another. And it seemed they were having trouble stepping on hallowed ground. I made a mental note to ask father Fraser if he knew where any other churches, mosques, synagogues and the like were around town. It would be good to have bolt holes.

I took a breath, heaved myself out the door. There was a steady thumping sound at the edge of my hearing, behind the occasional growls and screeches from the peanut gallery. The door was guarded by three Wardens and two wolves.

One of the Wardens, a young woman with Middle Eastern features wearing a long robe beneath her grey cloak, stepped forward, looking worried.

"Warden," I said by way of greeting.

"Sir!" she said in accented English, "I'm glad you have returned. Captain Luccio and Wizard McCoy said they wanted to see you as soon as you came in."

"Thank you. They're in the back room?"

"No. They're trying to calm the crowd."

"Crowd? What crowd?"

She opened the door for me. The sounds of angry shouting rolled out.

Double crap.

I turned back to Thomas, who was helping Molly out of the van. Despite her injury, he looked in control. "Thomas? You okay?"

"Yeah. Those wolf-things were… passionate."

I held up a hand, not wanting the details. "Mouse, stay with Molly." I turned back to the Warden. "Have any other vans arrived?" I glanced at the van Ana and Ebenezar had brought back. "In the last few minutes?" I added.

"No, sir."

"What about a really short blonde woman with a bloodied Sword of the Cross?"

"No, sir."

And triple crap.

"There should be three more vans. Watch for them." If they arrive, I didn't say.

I got a nod from her, then turned and jogged down the hall, past the war room, its door closed. Well, it was more of a shuffle, really. I was too tired to jog. And the action started a headache brewing. I was moving with one arm against the wall by the end of the hall. There, two Wardens and two guardsmen were holding back a huge push of people with verbal and weapon-y threats. One of the Wardens had a partial shield up, bouncing people gently back.

And the people they were holding back did not look happy. From where I stood, I could see most of the Wardens were blocking the exits. Some guardsmen were standing with the Wardens, some were with the crowd. The ones in the crowd did not appear to have their weapons. I caught glimpses of some of the Alphas, mostly in loose-fitting sweats, backing-up the Wardens.

Not all of the lights were on, and it made the whole church proper look like a cave. An ornate cave, but not somewhere people should be cooped up.

It took my cloudy head a second to realize what was going on: a large group of scared people, crowded into a small, dark space? It was just a matter of time. Fear turns to anger very easily, especially when stress runs high, and we were running out of food and power.

Also, the church only had so many bathrooms.

Not everyone was a part of the mob; some people were huddled in corners or up against walls. Many of them were crying. I was now doubly glad we gotten the children out before the walls went up.

I suddenly found myself wondering where the hell all the cops and FBI agents in town had gotten to.

I found McCoy and Ana with my eyes, standing with Billy and Fathers Fraser and Paulo and half a dozen bodyguards in grey cloaks and/or fatigues, all up on the pulpit. Their arms were up, and they appeared to be appealing to the crowd, but I couldn't hear anything they were saying.

"We want out!" one loud voice cried, and others took up the cry, making into a three-beat chant. It was pretty impressive when they started shaking their fists in time to the chants.

Oh, this is at the boiling point. Any ideas how to calm the crowd?

One, but you won't like it.

People are about to get hurt, Lash. What is it?

She responded with a flash of images.

Seriously? In a church? I sighed, knowing I had no time for a differentplan.

You asked. And for the record, if you are afraid of going to Hell, it would be a short trip.

Ha-ha. Fine, let's do it.

"Excuse me," I said to the guards in front of me, and nudged through them politely. They were a little busy holding back a human tidal wave, so they let me through.

As I stepped into the crowd, I lifted my borrowed staff and tapped it firmly against the floor, just once. At the same moment, I tapped Soulfire, and re-created that ball I'd recently mastered. Instead of letting it float away, I mentally anchored it right above and behind my head. It looked like a nimbus.

Some people might have called it a 'halo.' I say nimbus.

The mental and physical effort was like swimming against a moderate current. I could do it, but not for long.

The people right in front of me stopped shouting and moving as I caught their eyes. I'm pretty tall, was probably the tallest person in the place at that moment. I looked down at them, and tried to look benevolent. I leaned on my staff a bit. I tried to give them a small smile as I looked each in the eye, briefly. It was about all I was capable of.

I moved forward slowly, heading for McCoy. A wave of quiet swept the crowd, slowly at first, then more quickly, until I had the awed attention of everyone in the place.

Hoo-boy.

I took the stairs up towards the altar, nodded to McCoy and Ana. They both shook their heads at me. Then Fraser and Paulo looked like I had just spat on them. Nothing to be done about it, though.

I turned to the crowd, and let the Soulfire nimbus fade away. My abilities to think and stand without leaning both came back to me. I also could have sworn I heard a gasp of relief.

I looked out at everyone, and opened my mouth, not entirely certain what was about to come out of it. The way I was feeling, I half expected my improvised dinner from a few hours ago.

Instead, I said, "Please, listen," and my voice carried. Despite all the bodies, and the simple listlessness of the air, my voice carried. I guess that's the way pulpits are designed, though. "Ladies and gentlemen," I said, and resisted the urge to add, 'children of all ages.' I must have been getting punchy. "I know you're tired. Hungry. Scared. I am, too." I glanced at McCoy, who gave his classic 'I hope you know what you're doing' face.

Nope, not a clue, Sir.

I continued, "And maybe the worst part of it all, is the lack of information. You don't know what's going on outside." There was a grumble. Huh. After the spiel in front of the White Council, this was easier than I thought. "You don't know if your families and friends are safe." Another grumble, just a shade louder. "And you don't know why no one will let you outside." The next grumble was more of a cry of 'Yeah!'

"Well, the simple answer is, you can't leave, because you will die." That got a bunch of silent, shocked stares. I guess you can please some of the people some of the time…

"What the hell are you talking about?" a voice asked. I looked for it. A tall, young black man stepped forward, glaring at me. He wore slacks, heavy boots, and a red shirt. He had a Superman 'S' tattoo poking out of his shirt sleeve, which got him a couple points with me. He didn't look scared, or awed. Not even angry. Just exhausted and frustrated. That got him a few more points. A small but diverse crowd cheered a little behind him.

A sharp, low whisper from Anastasia: "Careful." Her hand tightened on her short staff of maple.

I took a breath, let it out. Then I took a step down from the pulpit. Then another. The young man didn't move. I stepped down to the floor and stood near him. "What's your name?" I asked.

"Alex."

"Well, Alex, there are things beyond those doors that you haven't dreamed of. Horrible things, uglier than you can imagine, and more disturbing than any nightmare you've ever had. This entire city has been taken hostage. Those fires – you know the ones I'm talking about – they were put up for a purpose: to isolate us. To limit us. To keep us from escaping, while we are terrorized and abused, hunted down and brutalized. And then slaughtered."

His eyes flickered away from me, then back. I carefully looked at his nose. "By what?" he asked, but his voice had no vitriol, no suspicion. He already knew I was telling the truth. He'd seen something on the way here, something disturbing. Maybe he'd dodged one of Chauncey's co-workers, or maybe just heard something. Or maybe, on some instinctual level, he just knew things were wrong. Hell, if everyone here was letting him speak for them, they knew it, too.

I've seen what keeping people in the dark for their own safety can do to people. Kim Delaney. Murphy (god, where was she?). Kirby. Molly.

In short, it gets them hurt or killed anyway. And people, I feel, ought to have the right to make an informed decision. We're mortal, we all die. But we – all of us, wizard or not – should get to choose where and how.

And for what.

I nodded at Alex. "All right. You want to know what's hiding in the shadows?"

"Hoss," McCoy said from behind me, a warning in his voice.

"No," I said, starting to get angry again. I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the fatigue, maybe it was my own frustration, maybe I was just picking up on the crowd's feelings. "They have a right to know, Sir." I paused, turned to him and lowered my voice. "They have a right to choose."

Conflict swept over his face, but only for a second or two. He glanced at Ana, whose face gave nothing away, then turned back to me, and nodded slowly.

I turned back. "You want to know what's going on?" I asked.

"Yeah," Alex said, and he did sound sure.

"You want to see what's so dangerous?"

"Yeah," he said again, and others backed him up.

"Okay. Follow me." I moved around him and started down the nave, heading for the main door. People moved out of my way.

The door was blocked by three guardsmen and two Wardens, and they all moved when I got there. I put and hand on the door, then turned back to the crowd and said, "Outside. In the parking lot. I'll explain there."

Then I shoved the door open and led the exodus.

Everything is harder when you're tired. Minor aches and pains feel like paralysing spasms. Concentrating is difficult. Your eyes get that weird feeling, like you opened them under water. You lose your balance easily.

I leaned heavily on my borrowed staff as I stood in St. Mary's parking lot, some 1200 people with me, most of them trying to look small. McCoy stood near me, keeping an eye on my sagging form. Ana stood near him.

Nearly everyone's attention was on the edge of the property; they were staring at the demons. It felt like I was a guide at the weirdest zoo in history. Over the growlings and screechings, I could hear a low thumping noise over the northern horizon. I was afraid I knew exactly what it was, but it wasn't too close. I did my best to ignore it for now.

"What the hell are those things?" Alex asked me. His eyes were huge, and his mouth didn't seem to be able to close all the way. He looked like he couldn't decide between pinching himself to wake up, or running and hiding in a corner. In other words, he was perfectly human.

I wasn't all that bothered. I wonder what that says about me?

"They're demons, smart guy," Faith Astor said, emerging from behind him in the crowd behind him. Some of the snark in her voice had been removed, though. "They are demons, right?" she asked me.

"Yeah. The nastiest part of your nightmares, made real." I turned and looked out at the perimeter, watching the mostly-indescribable things dance around, growling and posturing. I spared a moment's fear for Murph, then put it aside. I literally had more people to worry about than I could count right now. I wanted Karrin safe, but going out and looking for her was out of the question. "We're safe, for now," I said, raising my voice.

"You're gonna hurt yourself, Hoss," McCoy said. He whispered a word, gestured at me, and nodded.

"We're safe for now," I said again, and my voice carried, booming out three or four times louder than it should have been. I glanced at my grandfather. He bounced his eyebrows. "So long as this ground is sanctified, you're safe on it."

"This isn't happening," a man said without a lot of conviction. He was youngish looking, probably on the near side of thirty, and judging from his inexpensive suit, just getting his first taste of a real job, real responsibility this year. Ironically, he probably would have been more open to the idea a year or two ago. Now he was too 'mature' for such things. "Those things cannot be real. This is impossible!"

"You want to walk over there and tell them that they don't exist? They might beg to differ." He didn't move, except to look from me to the demons and back. One of them let out a bellow, and he flinched. I turned and clambered up on the roof of a car. It took longer than it should have. I looked out at the crowd. "This is all real, folks. All of it. No special effects. There's no CGI, and those aren't guys in rubber costumes. It's real, and it's been real for a long time."

Lots of confused stares. More than a few disbelieving ones. And maybe, just maybe, a couple understanding ones?

"This can't be happening," another voice, a woman said. "It's like something out of a bad movie."

I continued, "You don't believe me, that's fine. It just means you were raised right."

"But… how can this be real? How can it be happening?" Her voice got quiet. "What did we do?"

"Nothing. We didn't bring this on ourselves. Look, every monster, every fairy, every creature of myth, every legend you were ever told, they're all real, to a greater or lesser degree. And they've been real a lot longer than you've been alive. And they don't much care for human beings.

"The people around you, the ones with the swords? They've been secretly protecting you for generations. When you feel a chill on your spine, they're the ones who make it go away. When something goes bump in the night, they're the ones who bump back." I never thought I'd find myself singing the Wardens' praises, let alone with line from Hellboy, but it had been that kind of weekend.

Now everyone was looking at their nearest Warden. "And I'm one of them. Some of you may know me, know my face. From TV, or walking down the street. This is my town, just as much as it's yours. And the masquerade has fallen here. It's come crashing down, right here, in the middle of Chicago."

Part of the crowd was starting to get on board with me; some of them, Alex, Faith and their friends in particular, nodding along with what I was saying. Hell's bells, I was getting good at this public speaking stuff.

"These things," I said, gesturing to the demons, "are dangerous. But they can't get you, not while you're here." I paused, dramatically. "At least, not yet." That got a few sharp and worried looks. "Now, look at the sky." I waited while everyone did, even if it was just a quick glance. I didn't; the last thing I needed was vertigo. "You see what it looks like? Black and red and evil all over? Left as it is, it's going to get worse. When it gets completely dark, completely wrong, the protection of this ground will be gone. Burned out. And those demons you see will just be the beginning. They will come flooding in here, and they will not hesitate to obliterate us all.

"But it doesn't have to happen. It doesn't have to be like that. Right now, it can still be undone. Some of you might wonder what can be done. Well I can't put it into clear words. I want to say, 'have faith,' but that seems insufficient. This can be beat, but only by people who know it can be beat."

"That doesn't make any sense," another person called out.

"I know. And I'm sorry. I wish…" My concentration was beginning to go. "I wish I could explain it in a way you'd understand… This is all real, but it's not permanent. It can be reversed. But you have to understand that those things out there, this sky… the longer they're here, the stronger they get.

"This is what you're facing. This is why they've been keeping you inside, and telling you nothing. Because anything they could say would be worse than nothing at all." I took a breath, and again heard the thumping noise in the distance. I hoped it was further away than it seemed.

A higher pitched, screeching sound, this one mechanical rather than demonic, cut across my brain. I turned to the street. A large van, mostly blue with faded lettering stencilled in the side, came careening around a corner.

"They're dangerous," I said. "They're evil, and destructive, and powerful." I jumped off the car, stumbled, and McCoy caught me. I pulled my revolver out of my pocket as I started walking towards the parking lot entrance, following the van's progress. "But they are not invincible! Wardens, to me!"

I picked up to a jog, Ebenezar coming with me. I handed him the staff. I could barely pull together my concentration at the moment; magic was out of the question.

The crowd was watching us; we were watching the demons; the demons were watching the van as it turned and dodged in the street, coming ever closer. Other Wardens came up beside us. About ten feet from the property line, we stopped, staves, wands and guns at the ready.

I pulled a few stray rounds out of my pocket and started loading. Some of the demons were literally hopping mad, swiping at us but unable to get closer. Others were moving off at a run or a leap toward the van. I noticed a few of them had been taking swipes at the ground itself, leaving deep furrows in the ground and concrete. Some of the demons' hands (or claws, or flippers, or whatever) showed blisters and burns.

"Ready!" Ana shouted. I could feel the gathering of will and energy around me as every Warden picked a target or two. McCoy probably picked half a dozen. I focussed on a particularly ugly lizard-shaped thing with one wing and goat's horns, and drew aim with my .44. The van came closer.

"Now!" she shouted.

Ever had a neighbour who insisted on mowing his lawn at 7:00 on the Saturday morning after you had a late Friday? Or a guy in the next apartment who would practise his drums all day? Or did you ever hit the volume knob on your stereo before you pressed the power button, so that when you turned it on, it sounded like a marching band was traipsing through your forehead?

The sudden release of fire, lightning, ice, lead and pure, ethereal force was something like that, plus a low-level fireworks display. The demons, those that weren't immediately incinerated, didn't much care for it, and bolted. My lizard-goat just kind of exploded. Actually, the energy feedback almost knocked me over, too, but McCoy got a hand on my arm.

Into the path we blew open, the blue van came bouncing, straight up the driveway like any other day. The Wardens parted, the driver hit the brakes, and it slid to a hard stop in front of the crowd.

The van's driver door popped open, and Elaine Mallory hopped out. I smiled and hobbled over as she got the back door open, letting several of the Velvet Room's former employees out. A few Wardens and a couple of the civilians, including Will, helped them out and towards the church.

"Hey," I called. My voice had stopped booming.

She turned, saw me. "Harry," she said, and there was some relief in her voice. She walked up to me and slid her arms inside my duster, sinking her head to my chest. I wrapped my arms around her. We stayed like that for a few seconds. I felt my eyes try to close and forced them open.

"Good to see you, too."

She pulled back. "The others? Lara, Sanya?" She paused, then added, "Karrin?"

I shook my head. "Not yet."

"Mother of all. They had 3 or 4 of the girls in each van."

"What about Marcone? Gard, Helen?"

"I think Sanya had Gard in his van."

I took a breath. "They'll be okay. Sanya for obvious reasons, and Lara, for all her posturing, cares for Thomas. She won't let a little thing like Hell get between her and her little brother."

She nodded, but she didn't look relieved. I couldn't blame her. Her protective streak was just as wide as mine.

A few demons started screeching again. I saw large portions of the crowd cover their ears and many more start heading back inside. Alex and a few of his posse stood their ground.

Elaine looked out at the street, and the mess of demons, their numbers continuing to swell. "I feel like I'm in a menagerie."

"We are. But Mr. Spock isn't coming to rescue us."

"Hoss?"

I turned to McCoy. He was watching the side of the building.

"What the hell is that?" I heard Alex ask.

"It's a wolf, genius," Faith said. Her snark had returned to normal levels.

"It's Andi," I said, just as the lithe, ruddy wolf skidded to a stop, shimmered, and turned into a naked, buxom redhead. Several people gasped and gaped.

I have no words that can better describe the moment.

"Harry!"

"Yeah?" I was very carefully looking at her face, despite quite a bit of movement just south of there.

"A van just arrived. Out back."

Elaine, McCoy and I went to the back room, which was slowly beginning to feel like an infirmary. Father Fraser informed me that several of the injured had been taken upstairs to the priests' own quarters for rest. That was where Molly had ended up. Hendricks was laid out here, though, across two cots.

Sanya carried Gard in himself and sat her up against the wall near Hendricks. Then Fix came in and set her battle axe next to her. She looked a lot better than she had, her wounds now closed. She put a hand on Hendricks' arm and promptly closed her eyes.

Georgia and a couple of helpful other civilians were patching up the scratches and such on the Velvet Room refugees. Elaine joined them.

Sanya and Fix ushered McCoy and I out into the hall, which was less crowded. "Gard told us something interesting on the way here," he said.

"Oh, what's that?" McCoy asked.

"Reinforcements," Fix said. "She says she might be able to get armed people here."

"Did she get hit on the head?" I asked.

"No. It's the thinness. Between worlds. She says she might be able to call to her people. Once she gets some rest."

"Her people?" McCoy asked.

"Valkyries and einherjar," I told him.

"Da," Sanya said. "I for one would like her to try."

"Can't argue," I said.

McCoy nodded. "Okay, once she's able, let's get her whatever she needs. Keep an eye on her." Fix nodded.

"I have to go check on Molly," I said. "The ride in was a bit rough."

McCoy handed me the staff. "See you in a bit, Hoss."

I hadn't taken two steps when I heard a voice near the door; the young Warden I'd spoken to earlier. "The last van just arrived!"

I continued up the hall to the stairwell that led to the priests' dormitory. This hall was empty. The third door on the left was Father Fraser's, and I nudged the door open to find Molly on the bed, her broken leg stiff and exposed, tied tight with strips of cloth, the rest of her covered in a blanket, Mouse lying on the floor next to her, and Thomas in a chair, which was turned around backwards, of course. Molly's jeans were on the floor. They all turned as I came in. The room was very small.

"Hey," I said by way of greeting.

"Harry," Molly said, trying to sit up.

"Easy, kid," Thomas said, and gently pushed her back down.

"Lara just got here," I said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." I glanced at my former apprentice. "She'll probably be wondering where you are."

"True." He sighed. "Okay, I'll go talk to her."

He slapped me on the shoulder as he walked past. I took his place in the chair, and gave Mouse a pat when he lifted his head.

"Hey, boss," Molly said. She didn't sound weak, exactly. More like… distracted. Literally bone-shattering pain will do that, I suppose.

"How you holding up?"

"It hurts. But not as bad as it should." She blinked, her face suddenly sad. "It's nothing, really."

I grunted. "I guess we can thank Mab for that."

"Don't be too bitter, Harry. I chose this. I accept that."

"Molly…" And, I realised, we were at that moment. "What Mab and Maeve did to you - "

"Please, don't." I stopped. She looked away, then pushed herself into a sitting position. I didn't stop her. "No, they didn't treat me well. They… they take what they want. And mark what they leave behind." She glanced down at the brand on her hip, just poking out of her blanket. "It was… painful. But the choice was pain or death. And I made the only choice available. It wasn't a good choice, but it was mine."

I gritted my teeth. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

"Harry… one of the lessons you tried to teach, that I learned slowly from you, was to always do the right thing, whatever the cost. Or you won't be able to live with yourself."

"True." I did not like where this was heading.

"Well, I wouldn't be able to do any good if I was dead. I knew you'd try to find me. Protect me. Just like you did for Morgan, and you hated him."

"Also true." Liking it less and less…

"But I couldn't let you do that. I had to take responsibility for myself."

Damn it. I hated it, but I couldn't take that responsibility away from her. She was an adult.

"I thought… I thought if I could just endure it for a while, just tough it out… then I'd still be able to do some good. I mean, we're mortal, right? We can still make decisions, think for ourselves. I'd answer to the Queens, but I'd still be who I am. I'd still be me." She turned her head back to me, and there were tears running down her cheeks.

"They tried to convince me that wasn't true. That I had to do what they told me. That I had no choice. That it would hurt when I tried to choose for myself. Everywhere. Inside and out."

I made a fist tight enough that my wrist cracked. They'd broken her, like a wild filly.

"Mind and body. And they did hurt me. For a while, I resisted, but Harry… Once they're inside your head, your body…" She shuddered. "I believed them. I couldn't choose. A big part of me was relieved. Not having to choose was easier, you know? But another part, a tiny little piece, was terrified. Of what they'd make me do. What they did make me do. Target practice." She put her head in her hands. "They made me kill, Harry. Fair folk. Wyldfae. Any citizen of Winter who displeased the Queens. The first one was so hard, but each one after… They changed time there; I spent weeks destroying things, Harry. Weeks murdering. I was so scared of when they would send me back, of what I'd do once I returned… Then they did send me back, to Chicago."

She looked at me. "To you. And I remembered. I remembered that I can say no to them." She shook her head, eyes closed. "It just hurts so much to do it. I hate them, Harry. Both of them. I wish I could kill them. I've never thought that about anyone, human or not, before. But I'm not strong enough. I can't kill. I can't even fight like this."

Mouse let out a growl, and I jumped, spinning to face the door and bringing up a shield.

"It is a boon, then," Maeve said, leaning against the doorframe, "that we no longer need you to."