I simply froze for a second. I had a thousand thoughts, each one scarier than the last, in the span of about 6 seconds. I had no idea what to say, or how to react. So, I froze. I realized pretty quickly that simply sitting there staring at Molly wasn't going to solve my problem, so tried going in a completely different direction.

"What do you think of 'Grace'?" I asked.

She blinked and looked confused. "Uh, I'm sorry, what?"

"For a name? For the little one? It's been a month and I can't really come up with one."

"Harry, did you hear what I said?"

"Clearly. But I'm trying really hard not to think about it. I'm trying not to think about how, if you were the Queen, I'd have told you to shove it, or reminded you that I'd be just fine with dying instead."

"Harry - "

"But you're not Mab. You're Molly. I've known and worked with you for years, and I like to think I know you pretty darn well. And I also like to think that you wouldn't willingly ask me to go commit a murder."

"Harry - "

"And I'm only saying this because I want to make sure you completely understand what it is you're doing here."

"Stop talking!" she shouted.

I stopped. Not because I really wanted to, but because, for a second there, I literally could not speak.

She clamped a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. She gathered her composure, but did not look at me. "That was mean." She looked up. "But I'm not asking you to commit murder. I would never have agreed to relay that command."

I sat back in my seat, though I had no memory of leaning forward. "Well, now I'm confused."

She finally looked at me again. "You and me both. About so many things." She reached down into a satchel at her feet (which were wrapped in shoes even I knew cost more than my old office's rent) and pulled out a manila folder. She leaned forward to hand it to me and ended up on her knees in front of me.

Something in my loins started screaming that I could keep her there, and force her forward. I'd seen a Winter Lady stand up to a Winter Knight before, once a long time ago. She wasn't stronger than me. I could have her down, head first, in no time and she wouldn't be able to stop me from -

6 times 7 is 42. 7 times 8 is 56. 9 times 7 is, uh, 63…

Molly pulled herself up into a third bench seat, running the length of the car.

I held the folder without opening it. "Is this the target?"

She nodded.

I didn't want to open it and did want to open it at the same time. I didn't want to kill anyone… except, I kind of did.

On one hand, I didn't want to be a party to an execution; been there, done that, hated it every time. On the other hand, if I rejected the job, Mab would find some other way of killing this person. If I saw who it was, maybe I could protect them? Usually, that was the Summer Knight's job, but I liked to think of myself as season-neutral.

I flicked open the folder. My brow furrowed.

"Who the hell is this?" The picture was not a close-up. It looked to have been taken from a block away. It was a slightly grainy black and white photo of a very thin, tall, yet broad-shouldered man, gaunt looking. Bad toupee. Suit hanging off him. A sign behind him was in Cyrillic.

"His name is Olan Krejetzy," she said. "And he's a Black Court vampire."

I gasped out a laugh. "Vampire? Black Court?"

"Can't commit murder if the target is already dead, can you?" She had a slight smile back.

"Oh, Molls, you have no idea how much of a relief this is for me."

"About as much of a relief as it was for me when the Queen explained the whole thing?"

"Touche. I mean, the world would definitely be a better place with fewer reanimated corpses eating people. So, I guess I'm not definitely saying no, but I hope I'm getting an explanation."

She nodded. "The short version is: some recent events have convinced the Queen that now is a good time to make some peace. Krejetzy is attempting to undermine that initiative."

"And Mab thinks it's a solid idea to kill the opposition to her peaceful ideas?"

"Bottom line? Yes. And, try not to use her name again."

I blinked. Right. Three uses would basically act as a summoning, or at least get her attention. And if we called while she was putting on her make-up or something, she'd be royally pissed.

"All right. So, M – the Queen, is arranging a peace conference? And Krejetzy is, what? Telling everyone it's a waste of time?"

"We're pretty sure he's making better offers, most of which include blackmail and threats. Or murder. The Queen has few true allies under the Unseelie Accords. When they came into being, it was like the United Nations; didn't really impose peace, as much as a formal, controlled method of dispute. She's hoping to do better."

"When is the conference?"

"Oh, months, at least, maybe a year. Scheduling in the supernatural world is… exceedingly difficult."

"Mm-hmm."

"And it's even worse when someone actively tries to undo your work. Will you take the job?"

"This peace that she's hoping to impose… would it include the Fomor?"

Molly held up both hands, with fingers crossed. "Part of the Fomor's problem is that they've been sitting on the sidelines for centuries, constantly being overpowered, or worse, ignored. The Queen is hoping that by offering them a seat at the table, they'll get some of the recognition they want, and a lot of the recent feuding will die down."

Realization and hope both blossomed in my voice. "With the pleasant side effect that the mortals caught in the cross-fire won't be anymore."

"Win-win. But the problem is, we believe that Krejetzy is working for the Fomor."

I looked up at her. "Why would they have him doing that if they're getting the recognition they want?"

"Honestly, we don't know. Maybe they think the conference is a waste of time, and they can get a bigger slice of the pie this way, maybe they do mean to attend, and want more bargaining chips before they do. In the end, it doesn't matter. Krejetzy is undermining Winter's interests, and needs to be stopped."

"And that's where I come in."

"Sorry, boss," she said, and she actually sounded like Molly, old Molly, my apprentice. Maybe that little sense of nostalgia convinced me. I'm not sure.

"Where is he?"

She took a breath. "That picture is three weeks old. He has a private ship, which he keeps in Greece, the Ceres."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, it's a little on the nose. The point is, he left Greece 18 days ago. We lost track of him for a while, but 4 days ago, a selkie found him in Miami."

My head rocked back. "Lara's on a cross-country tour. Miami is White Court territory."

Molly nodded. "I doubt it's a coincidence."

"Dammit. I'll have to call Thomas. And I guess asking Lara to come home is out of the question."

Molly nodded. "It would be a show of weakness she can't afford."

"I guess I would need to get to Miami. If I did this."

"You would have to be very careful. Krejetzy has an entourage."

"More Black Court."

"A few, but the big hiccup is a contingent of bodyguards, hired from Monoc Security."

I dropped my apple and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

"Wish I was."

"Well, that's awkward. On the other hand, most them are already dead, too."

"So you'll do it?"

I found myself nodding. And thinking. A chance to undermine the Fomor… "Would Fix stand in my way?"

She sighed. "Ultimately, that's up to Titania. Usually, yes, but Summer has an interest in seeing the peace conference go ahead. It's possible there are some machinations in play that I don't know about. And of course, there's the personal thing."

"Personal thing?"

"He's… not the same person you remember, Harry. Lily's death was a blow to him. Sarissa is his Lady, now, but… it's not the same."

I nodded for a few more seconds, considering everything. Major stakes, check. Possible personal grudge match, check. Pretty much guaranteed misery, check. It was starting to sound like something I would do. "I'll need a little time to make some preparations."

"You accept?" That was the third time she'd asked, and I felt an odd need to give her an answer.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. The potential payoff… definitely worth it. Though, I guess we won't have time for lunch, after all. No time to have an actual conversation."

She sank back in her seat. "I know you worry."

"You still go to Sunday dinners at home?"

She nodded, a smile growing. "Yeah. Still give the hobbit piggy-backs, still help my mother with the dishes. Still scratch Mouse behind the ears until I lose feeling in my fingers."

"Well, then I'm less worried. You promised to explain everything to your parents, and I trust you to keep that promise."

She sighed, and some of her tension seemed to vanish. Her shoulders slumped, just a little. "As soon as I'm ready. As soon as I can wrap my own head around it. Oh, and for the record, Grace is a lovely name. But if you're going for some sort of dichotomy, what about Persephone?"

I shook my head. "Putting aside the recent encounter with her husband, I'd say good idea, but I already nicknamed someone else Persephone. And before you start on other virtues, I already know a Faith, a Hope, and a Charity."

"Huh. Well, I'm sure you'll come up with something."

"Eventually." We were quiet a moment. "I guess I should go back now?"

She stretched and knocked on the glass partition, and we almost instantly changed direction. I'm not saying the car turned; I'm saying it suddenly was going a different way, with no sensation of movement. "Just do me one favor?"

"Sure."

"Don't be reckless."

"Reckless? Me?" I'm sure I sounded genuinely offended.

"Your plan of attack last night was completely irresponsible."

"What are you talking about?"

"Frontal attack? Walking straight up the driveway?"

"I had a shield ready. I needed to draw attention to let everyone else get in position. And we had the layout of the house, and the ward locations. And where did you hear this?"

"And your conversation with Thomas? What if the servitors heard something they could use against you?"

"I never say anything I'm not prepared for my enemies to hear. Did you talk to Thomas last night?"

"Of course. I've got him on speed-dial."

One of my eyebrows lifted. "On your cell phone."

"Yes, he's number 6."

"On your cell phone," I repeated, more slowly.

She leaned back in her seat yet again. "Yes, Harry. I have a cell phone. And it hasn't fried on me yet."

"Wizards, technology, boom, you know the drill."

"I do."

"But it isn't happening."

"No. And I know what you're trying to say: The Lady's Mantle is influencing me."

"I was more thinking it might be changing your fundamental nature, but why split hairs?"

"Harry, I'm still me."

I didn't say anything. I just looked at her. I considered everything she had said. I thought about the fact that she still maintained contact with her family, still smiled, still felt uncomfortable occasionally… still seemed human.

"I… I know you are, grasshopper. But knowing how Mantles work – I mean, having real, scary, first person experience – I'm always going to worry a little. I won't be able to let this go, not completely. Knowing you're still you, mostly, I worry less, but I know how easy it is to…" I struggled with the grammar. "Be changed."

She took my hand. "I won't lie. I still can, but I won't. I'm scared. Freaking terrified, if I'm completely honest. But knowing that you're in this too, going through something similar, knowing that I can call you, and you'll…"

"Show up?"

"Yeah. That all makes it easier. Just a little less scary. And I have to say, it's nice being able to use some modern conveniences again without having to go back to my apartment. The internet can be really useful."

"Will's been showing me the best parts for years. But he says it's 90% porn, or arguing. But rarely arguing about porn, for some reason."

"Yeah, the arguing is annoying."

My other eyebrow lifted in reaction to what she didn't say.

"The point is, I know there's been a change, but it's mostly external. It's not who I am, it's just the type of magic I use."

I took a deep breath. Let it out. "Let's make a deal."

Suddenly deadly serious, she said, "Careful."

"I know. But this one is simple. We'll watch each other's backs, and faces. And we'll let the other one know if we see them changing. Agreed?"

She considered for a moment. And I mean an actual, dictionary-definition moment, taking about a minute and a half, before she spoke. In a very quiet voice, she said, "Agreed."

I tried to ignore the slight shiver that went up my back.

Molly dropped me back at Karrin's house. I walked inside and she poked her head out of the kitchen. "Hey. Did you eat? You were barely gone half an hour."

"Eat, no. But I think I got exactly what we need."

Karrin came out of the kitchen, Mister at her heels. She'd dressed in shorts and one of my smaller shirts – which I found damn sexy on her – and her leg brace. Mister ran at me. "She's going to give you Winter footsoldiers?"

"No." I stooped down and swept up my extremely over-sized cat in one arm right before he tackled me. "But if we play our cards right, we have a chance to bitchslap the Fomor, and put the White Court in our debt."

"Seriously? How?"

I handed her the Krejetzy file from my non-cat-occupied hand. "Read that. I want your tactical assessment."

"What are you going to do?"

"I have some phone calls to make," I said, stepping past her into the kitchen. "And some dishes to do."

Two hours later, allies had been called, arrangements had been made, and the crock pot was cleaner than it had been in weeks.

There were also four extra-large pizza boxes sitting empty in the recycling bin.

I stood in the doorway to the living room, leaning against the wall; Karrin, Marci, Andi and Thomas sat in various chairs.

Thomas looked great as always, the ass, so I assumed his previous night had been… invigorating. He was talking. "This is stupid," he said.

"I have to agree," Marci said.

"Just the four of us?" Andi asked. "To hunt a Black Court vampire? Aren't they, like, the nastiest things out there?"

"Not quite, but they are straight out of Stoker," Thomas said. "Hell, the White Court arranged for Stoker to publish so that everyday folks would know how to deal with them."

"Which the rest of us are all very grateful for," I said. "Bottom line, even one blampire is worse than a dozen Fomor."

Thomas' head tilted. "'Blampire'?"

"That's the scientific name."

His eyes narrowed. "Do you call me a 'whampire'?"

"Only when you're not around. Back on topic, yes, only the four of us. Butters is already out of town, the professional mercenaries I know are all too expensive or hard to find. And Will and Georgia aren't risking making Carlie an orphan. End of discussion. Even with access to a badass babysitter, it's better if they stay home. It was long conversation, but I convinced them."

"But you're still bringing your brainchild?" Marci asked. She quickly slapped a hand over her mouth to hide a smile, like she had just realized what she said.

"Okay, five points for surprising yourself with an accidental joke. But yes, I'm bringing her along."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Andi asked. "I mean, didn't you tell Waldo that bringing the other skull out was a bad idea?"

"Yes, but I'm not planning to use her. It's just…" I trailed off, unsure of my words.

Andi eyed me. "It's just what?"

Karrin answered for me. "She won't respond to anyone else's touch."

"Say what?"

"She won't come out of the skull, or even light up, unless I'm the one who touches the skull, okay?" I said. "And having been inside one while I was doing the ghost thing, I… I don't want her to get lonely, all right?"

Everyone was quiet for a second as, I guessed, they all tried not to laugh at me. Finally, Marci spoke up. "But Karrin's not coming?"

"Still have a war to manage here," she said.

"Yes," I said, "especially since the Fomor are already super-angry, but if we succeed, they'll be ultra-super-angry."

"I'm not much use in the field right now, anyway," she said, giving the knee brace a solid rap. "I'm better put to use coordinating, planning."

"Like Batgirl when she turned into Oracle," Marci said.

"Ten more points for the bat-reference," I said. "Thomas, did you reach Lara?"

"Yeah, just before I got here. She's safe and sound, landed in Miami just after 4 this morning. No attempts on her life yet, no threats, no anything. But she definitely can't leave."

"Why not?" Andi asked. "That's the first thing a sane person would do."

"Preaching to the choir, Red. But Miami is a House Malvora holding."

"What does that mean?"

"They feed on fear," Karrin said. "The Raith family feed on lust - "

"Intimacy, actually," Thomas said.

Karrin gave him a look. "Right," she said, though her tone said the opposite. "Intimacy. The various Court Houses like different emotions. But I'm guessing showing fear to the Malvora is even worse than showing it to anyone else."

"Never show a predator an easy target," he said, and made it sound like a proverb. "Particularly one they will actually draw strength from. Main reason she's there is to face them down. The other Houses need to be reminded who's on top from time to time. She's not going to doing anything stupid, because she never does, but if anything happens to her…"

"That would be bad, right?" Andi ventured.

Thomas and I exchanged a glance. Lara was the power behind the throne; she'd held their father in a psychic thrall for years, and I couldn't say I blamed her after he had done the same to her for decades. But if anything happened to her, Lord Raith would not be able to function, and another House would usurp power. But no one else really knew that, and it was better if it stayed that way.

"It would be a huge blow to House Raith," I finally said. "Possibly destabilizing. And let's just say the other Houses are less interested in maintaining the peace."

"We'd have more predators on the ground," Marci said.

"And thus, more victims." I let that sink in for a second. "Now, we aren't going to be completely alone. We will link up with Lara's people, and Ramirez is going to meet us there tomorrow if his duties allow."

"Um, Harry?"

"Thomas?"

"Lara doesn't exactly travel with a full regiment of bodyguards."

My heart sank just a notch. "What are you saying?"

"She might have a dozen people. Including herself and Justine."

"Seriously?"

"Again, taking a lot of soldiers into a Malvora stronghold… not a way to earn their respect."

I took a breath and scratched the back of my neck. "Okay. We can still work with this."

"Sure, it's easy," Karrin said. "Just kill Krejetzy before he gets to Lara."

Thomas scratched his chin. "Well, when you put it that way, I'm sure the four of us, ten vanilla guys and a single Warden should be able to take out a centuries-old murder machine and however many mini-murder machines and psycho-slaves he cooks up."

"Which takes time. Black Court vamps are nest-makers. They like to gather their forces before making a move."

"She's right," I said. "Unfortunately, he's been there for 4 days. He may already have nested. And the White Council is stretched too thin to loan us any more Wardens. Ramirez already asked."

"Oh," Thomas said. "Well, when you put it that way, what are we waiting for?"

Apparently, nothing. A few minutes later, I loaded a couple bags in Thomas' vehicle, laying them next to the Alpha's bags. He had swapped the Mercedes for something even bigger; an older, gray, military spec Humvee. Hey, if you're heading into battle, better to bring armour.

I came back to the house to grab my staff. Karrin was at the door, holding it. She handed it over slowly. "You'd better come back."

"I will."

"I'm serious. If you die in Chicago, I can at least claim the body. If something happens in Miami…"

"Oh, Karrin." I took her in my arms. "If something happens in Miami, there probably won't be a body left to claim."

She pulled back and punched me in the chest. "Don't joke."

"Hey. I'm going to try things your way. I'll be subtle. No direct confrontation. Pinky swear." I held up the baby finger on my right hand.

She wrapped her same finger around mine, then tugged. I bent down, and she kissed me. "Be less stupid than usual."

"Promise." Then I kissed her again, and headed for the car.

I hefted myself into the passenger seat.

"You sure this is going to work?" Thomas asked.

"It did in the Chronicles of Amber. I can't think of a good reason why it wouldn't work for us."

"You do know that you're why I don't use the radio or the Bluetooth, right?"

"Yeah. I got that." I took a breath. "Okay. We have one more stop to make before we go."

Thomas nodded and got the engine rumbling. He already knew where I was talking about.

It was Saturday, and Maggie was playing with her foster siblings. Young Harry and big sister Alicia were teaching her – somewhat successfully – to use a baseball glove. Alicia… looked a lot like Molly, only with darker colouring. Same infectious smile, same athletic build, wearing the hell out of those shorts…

I looked away while I still could, before anything else inside me could notice her.

As I watched, Maggie tossed a ball at Harry with that weak, over-hand technique everyone starts with. He had to drop almost to the ground to catch it. "You throw like a girl!" he said.

"I am a girl!" she shouted back, and she looked so proud of herself, I decided right then and there that 'throw like a girl' was the dumbest expression I had ever heard.

"Good job, Mags, you keep practicing," Alicia said. She saw me standing next to her mother and took a few steps closer. "Hi, Mr. Dresden."

"I think you can call me Harry, now," I said, extending my hand. "I understand belated congratulations are in order."

She shook. "Thanks. Yeah, University of Portland. First choice, early acceptance." She smiled and shrugged, but seemed to be vibrating with excitement.

"That's awesome for you. Keep it weird."

"Oh, guaranteed. Whoop!" Her eyes snapped to the side and her glove hand shot out like lightning – she caught the baseball a second before it would have taken out my nose. She smiled again, a little embarrassed.

Charity laughed and took the ball. "Nice one."

"Wow," I said. "Nice reflexes. My face thanks you."

"Sorry!" came a little voice.

"That's okay, Maggie," Charity said. "No one got hurt. Just be more careful next time, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. Now come over here for a minute. Your dad needs to talk to you."

I bent down next to Mouse as she walked over. The dog had been lying in the sun, basking a bit, but now he lifted his head. Alicia very diplomatically took a few steps away and she and her mother started tossing the ball with Young Harry.

I addressed Maggie and Mouse. "Hey, kiddo. I just wanted to stop by and let you know, I'll be out of town for a couple of days."

"Why?" Her face sank, and with it, my soul.

"I have to go help some people. It's… it's my job."

She looked down. "Oh. So no story tonight?"

"I'm sorry, Maggie, not tonight."

She looked me in the eyes, and I had to blink. "But you'll come back, right?"

"Yeah, yeah I'll come back."

"Promise?"

…Don't you dare…

Fuck it. I dare.

"Pinky swear." I held up my hand, little finger out.

She grinned and grabbed it with her whole throwing hand. "Okay?" I asked.

"Okay." She nodded.

"See you soon, kiddo. Now go play. You have to teach Harry how to throw."

"Oh, yeah!" She spun and charged back on to the lawn.

I turned to Mouse. He was staring at me, looking a little worried. "Black Court vampire," I said.

He groaned. Then he huffed, and stood.

"No, no, I have back up. I appreciate it, but your job is here, now."

He looked at Maggie, and groaned again, but it was a little one. He turned back to me, sat, and huffed again.

"Thanks. It makes doing what I have to easier, knowing you're watching her." He tilted his head, and I rubbed it. "You're my family. Both of you. Will you be good?"

He sneezed. I took that as a yes.

"This is where the Way opens?" Thomas asked.

"Yup."

"I've driven down this road a hundred times, and I've even seen it."

"That's the way it works."

"This is an empty lot," Marci said. "Isn't it? Looking this way is making me gr cross-eyed. But I thought the Ways had to have connections to significant things?" Thomas had parked on the road. There were no other cars for about fifty feet in either direction.

"They do." I looked out at the quarter-acre lot, with several large dirt heaps up front blocking the view of the relatively flat area behind. "And we need a clear path, which is hard to find in a city with this much traffic. Open the sunroof."

Thomas just looked at me. "What makes you think I haven't tried yet?"

I sighed, and tried to make it sound indignant. So much for my General Patton moment. "Fine. Just drive through that gap." I pointed at a dirt pile that was slightly smaller than the others. A sign on one of the piles, mostly faded now, advised that this was private property, and trespassers would be yadda yadda. The White Council had owned the lot for about forty years, and some strategically placed charms and wards kept people from asking why it hadn't been developed, or even remembering that there was an empty lot in the neighborhood at all.

Thomas put us in a lower gear and trundled into the lot, sandwiched between a gated condo development, and, uh, another gated condo development. I tried to ignore the roller-coastery feeling I got as we lurched over the mound. He paused once we were on level ground again. "Which way?"

I touched the amulet on my neck, with a magnificent, star-shaped red gemstone affixed to it. The stone was my mother's legacy; a lifetime spent exploring the Ways and the Nevernever itself, all recorded in her voice, accessible only to my touch. The information was permanent, but the access points to the various Ways she had known occasionally shifted. The gemstone always provided info on the metaphysically nearest Way unless I asked it a specific question. An echo of her voice started rolling through my mind.

For some reason, the lands here are calm, relatively immutable. It's kind of boring, if I'm being honest. But I guess if you're looking for a vacation spot where the sun literally never sets, you could do worse…

I felt a slight tug to the right, and pointed.

"Vacation spot?" Thomas mumbled.

My head snapped around. He looked about as confused as I felt. "You heard that?"

"That was… her voice."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. She must have tuned it so we both could…" I trailed off, so as not to ruin the moment. A small smile crept across his face. He had more memories of our mother, which is to say, any, since she died the night I was born. But the chance to hear her voice again…

"Are you two okay?" Andi said.

We looked back. Both women looked concerned.

"We're fine," I said. "Just a magic thing."

They exchanged an uncertain glance, but stopped staring at us.

Thomas cleared his throat. "Right. That way." He got the big truck positioned, and I hopped out.

I stood about ten feet in front of the Hummer, and raised my staff. "Aparturum," I said, and brought the staff down in a quick arc. A red line of energy remained hanging in the air. I put my hands together and sank them into that line, like I was trying to open an elevator door. Then, with a little more willpower, I pulled it apart.

The line widened into a circle, and even as the edges moved away, beyond my reach, I kept up the mental push. The portal widened in a rough circle, sliding into the ground soundlessly. On the other side, I saw a grassy field, with a simple dirt road running down its middle. Large trees, some with purple leaves and orange bark, and none of them familiar, flanked the field from about 100 feet on either side. The sun was shining, far brighter on that side than on this.

I took in the sight for a second, then turned and jogged back to the truck, and clambered inside. As I closed the door, I heard Andi say, "That is so cool."

Thomas produced a pair of sunglasses. "And we're off," he said.