I froze. I was simply unable to move. My concentration cracked, and the shield dropped. I had failed. I had failed in the worst way it was possible to fail: I had failed my child. "This is impossible," I heard myself say, but my voice was tiny and weak.

I heard cries and screams, growls and shouts, the sounds of walls and furniture being smashed. None of it mattered. None of it was important; for those few seconds, all that mattered was that I had failed. Later, I would reflect that those feelings were a good thing, an indicator that I had not slipped too far down the slope into the Winter mantle. At that moment, however, I couldn't think. I couldn't feel. I couldn't do anything but stare.

The moment passed.

"Wizard, get down!" Connie threw herself at me, and stunned as I was, I dropped like a wet noodle, and she landed on top of me.

A freaking harpoon sailed through the space we'd been occupying and sank into the wall next to the remains of the door. I saw her snap her head up, a look of sheer terror on her face, eyes wide and breathing heavy.

By not looking at Maggie, I found I was suddenly able to think. And seeing Connie's reaction, something clicked. That wasn't Maggie over there, on the floor at all.

It was a phobophage. A fear-eating demon.

Swinging my right arm free of the selkie, I rolled up onto my left elbow and took aim at a man in a wetsuit - with no face - holding the harpoon gun. "Forzare!"

The phobophage blew backwards into a bedroom, taking out a large portion of the doorjamb as it went.

I heard a howl and a scream from the back of the house, then a shout and the song of metal on metal. I turned that way and saw the Maggie impersonator. "Get out of my head! Fuego!"

I had just a half-second to question whether I should have sent fire screaming across the room – what if it really was her?! – and then the creature dashed to the side, catching only about half the blast. The remainder touched the wall and set it alight. She – it? – rolled to the floor, growling in defiance. Its head turned around completely to look at me before each of its limbs popped and bent backwards. Screaming, she started to scuttle away.

I pushed Connie up to her feet. "Help the others in the back!" I said, and hopped to my feet to chase the thing that dared to use my daughter's face.

The harpoon gunner lumbered out of the bedroom as I passed. Before I could react, Connie's hands grabbed it around the neck and it lurched into the air, harpoon and all. She pulled it up in a surprisingly graceful arc, then slammed it back down, face first, into the floor. There was a 'crack' that I was sure had nothing to do with the subfloor.

"Go," the selkie said, and started past me, heading for the kitchen. I turned and saw Maggie's backwards-pointing foot vanishing through a doorway. Two steps brought me to the top of a set of dark stairs.

"Of course," I mumbled. "Another freaking basement." I didn't give myself time to think. The anger I was feeling was keeping any fear I might have had at bay, and stopping to think would let the fear get a foothold. I took a couple steps and fumbled for a light switch. I found it, and the light actually came on. Then it promptly burned out. Wizard!

Without taking it off my neck, I willed energy into my amulet, and the stairwell – which sat against one wall, on the left, and was otherwise open, including between the stairs – lit up with faint blue light.

I stomped down, turning my back to the wall to let the light shine in every direction, and readied a shield. Unlike the floor above, the basement was quite average; concrete walls, and full of the usual detritus. I saw a washer and dryer in a far corner, some chairs and a table, all broken, stacked together with some boxes in the middle of the floor. Two tiny windows, on the far wall and the rear wall, caked with dirt and letting hardly any light through. I ignored the sounds of scuffle from above, and continued to the bottom of the stairs.

The phobophage was most likely hiding behind the pile of boxes and stuff. So, the question became should I go around to the right, or the left? Two choices.

I hate having only two choices.

"Forzare!" Taking the third option, I just knocked the pile over. The Maggie-abomination skittered to the right as everything came down on it. "Not so fast! Fuego!"

It danced backwards, and the fire hit the wall, rather harmlessly, though it did instantly get warmer in the basement. I backed up to the stairs to prevent it from getting away. It wasn't a vampire, but it was a demon, and it had stolen my daughter's face. It was not getting away from me. The Winter Mantle growled its approval, and I felt my eyes widen, and the darkness fade a little.

The little phage had vanished behind one of the spilled boxes. Boxes, made of cardboard. Surrounded by wooden furniture. "Your mistake, bitch," I said, and sent flame licking at the whole pile. The phage jumped out, screaming with Maggie's mouth mounted on a spider's body. I kept up the fire, moving in an arc to make sure I got the whole area and it had nowhere to go. "No one uses that against me!"

It jumped up to the support beams and changed form as it hung, suddenly looking like a little girl again, albeit one with spikes for fingers. The face took on Maggie's innocence and youth again. "Daddy?" it said. "What are you doing?" It sounded scared.

I choked off the fire as my breath caught in my throat. I hesitated for a second.

"Dresden!" I heard Carlos shouting from the top of the stairs. "We got to go! I need you up here!"

I snapped back to reality. This was not Maggie, not even a little bit. I looked around. Everything was burning. The boxes, the chairs, the ceiling. I looked the thing in the face again as the fire continued to grow. I shook my head. "You'll have to do better than that."

The face contorted into something grotesque and inhuman, and hissed at me. I sent one last blast of flame at it, then turned and dashed up the steps.

I emerged into a warzone. The kitchen was a disaster, with the fridge turned over and several cupboards ripped from the walls. A big pile of rapidly evaporating ectoplasm left no clue what the others had been fighting, but if it was that big, I didn't want to know. The kitchen table – which, oddly, had a table cloth – had been turned over, too.

Marci was human, crouching over Andi, who was sprawled on the floor. There was blood on her skin from a dozen or so shallow flesh wounds. Connie had a nasty bleeder from her scalp, and was helping Ramirez stand. "Hell's bells," I cursed.

"My leg's giving out," Carlos said.

And on top of all that, the fire I'd accidentally lit in the living room had already swallowed the front end of the house.

"She took a hit to the head," Marci said. "She's kind of out of it." I tossed my staff to Marci, then knelt down and picked up Andi's naked, bloody form. Her eyes were glassy, but she got her arms around my neck and made a weak sound that might have been my name.

"Let's get the hell out of here! Marci, grab that tablecloth!"

I kicked what was left of the back door and it blew off its hinges. I carried Andi into the back yard, which was enclosed by a tall fence. Marci spread the cloth and I placed Andi down, as gently as I could. Connie dropped Carlos and pulled out the cell phone. I checked Andi over as quickly as I dared, paying as little attention to her skin as I could. That was… difficult, but keyed up as I was, I managed to focus. Oddly, some of her cuts seemed to be closing already.

"How the hell?"

"It's a technique we've been working on for a while," Marci said. "Most flesh wounds are no problem." She stroked Andi's hair away from her face.

The redhead's eyes fluttered open. "Ow," she said, and closed them again.

I shook my head and looked at Ramirez. "What did you go up against?"

He shrugged. "I haven't got a damn clue. It was big, and furry, and angry. That's all I know."

"It was a wolfman," Marci muttered. "The Lon Chaney version. Only huge. It's… it's…" She trailed off.

"It's a fear you all have. Makes sense," I said. "Those were phobophages."

"Son of a bitch," Carlos said. "Obviously. Damnit."

I looked at Connie, who was just hanging up. "Did you call for the car?"

"He'll be here in two minutes. We need to get out front." She took a step closer.

"Wait. Call my… call the other team."

She backed away and started dialing again.

"Spider-sense tingling?" Carlos asked.

I nodded. "I don't like to think it, but I'd lay dollars to doughnuts we were set up. And if we were, what happened to the other team?" Fighting down fear and anger, I wrapped Andi in the tablecloth and lifted her again. "Marci, help Carlos get out front."

By now, the smoke was starting to billow out the door. I headed for the side of the house and moved between the fence and the brick. One of the windows blew out not five feet in front of me, and I turned to keep my duster between Andi and the glass.

In the front yard, I found the gate and kicked it. It didn't let go on the first try, and that made me angrier. So, I kicked again. And again. The third one did it, and while the padlock held, the bracket itself tore from the fence. The limo pulled up not five seconds later. I saw two faces poking out from a window across the street and tried not to let them see my whole face. Mr. Large jumped out and opened the back door for us, and Marci helped me get Andi inside.

Ten seconds later, we were in motion.

"Connie? Did you reach them?"

She nodded. "Aye. Mr. Raith is fine. Two of his men died, though. And another one's iffy. And Krejetzy wasn't there."

I ground my teeth and made fists.

"Harry? You okay?" Carlos asked.

Through teeth that did not separate, I said, "No. No, I am not. I hate being used, Carlos. But more than that, I hate when a friend of mine gets hurt because some fucking vampire bitch decided to play a game."

He grunted. Very quietly, he said, "Last time that happened, didn't you start a war?"

The sides of my mouth pulled up, but judging from Marci and Connie's looks of discomfort, the expression on my face could not have been called a smile. "Yes," I said, "that it exactly what happened. And you know how it ended." I pushed my way to the front of the limo and knocked on the glass. It came down. "I need to talk to your lady-boss," I said.

According to Lara, it took about half an hour to get to Danicka's mansion, in Hughes Grove. I took almost two hours because I had to make a couple of stops first.

But I still looked plenty pissed off when I blew the front door off its hinges with a blast of fire.

The place was nice, at the end of an exclusive cul-de-sac in a gated community, less than a two minute walk to the ocean. It was mostly hidden by expertly-planned and maintained foliage. Lots of windows. I understood it had seven bedrooms.

Thomas drove me in the Humvee. The guard at the gate hadn't been a problem once he realized the guy had been fed on before. "You sure you don't want me to come in with you?" he had asked once we were parked.

"I'm sure. For this part, I need to go alone."

"Be careful." I'd given him a devil-may-care grin, hopped out, and door, hinges, fire.

"Danicka!" I shouted. Five armed guards appeared with automatic weapons in hand. They were easier to deal with than the einherjaren, but only because I was ready. A solid shield before I even stepped out of the doorway, followed by a couple of quick force spells put all five of them on the floor. The main floor was mostly open, and there was no one else coming for me. "Danicka!" I shouted again. "It's rude to ignore me!"

I took a few steps inside, and felt the barest tingle of a threshold. No mortals had lived here for a while, so I didn't have to leave any power at the door. Every light in the front hall blew out, some of them aggressively, leaving a carpet of glass. As I stepped through it, crunching now the only sound, I found could see into the backyard, where a huge in-ground pool was surrounded by more armed guards, who were snapping into action.

Then, for a moment, everything was silent, and the mortal guards, who had disappeared from view, were nowhere to be found. Thoughts interrupted me: Where are they? Can they see me? What are they doing?

My head snapped around at a sudden noise, and my heart rate shot up. I was afraid…

And the instant I noticed, its hold was gone. I forced myself to bark out a laugh, and that made an actual laugh easier. Recalling old mental exercises, I erected barriers in my mind, and the sensation of fear completely subsided.

"Nice try. But I'm a little too angry to be scared. And if you keep ignoring me - " two guards, dressed in matching cheap suits, stepped around the end of the hall, guns trained on me – "Forzare!" They flew backwards, one of them shattering a window and covering them both in glass. "As I was saying, if you keep ignoring me, I'm going to think you're afraid to face me." I paused for dramatic effect as I rounded the corner and started down the hall to the garage. "And so will everyone else," I finished.

I moved quickly down the hall, my left hand in my pocket. "Trying to make a break for it?" I shouted. "Do I have to burn this place down, too?" I reached the garage and shoved open the door. The two car-sized doors were closed, and only one vehicle was present; Danicka's own brand-new, solid black Lamborghini.

I chuckled to myself and stepped close to the car, running my hand over one of the fancy vents, my fingers darting just inside and squeezing. "Well, someone certainly knows how to live large."

"I do," a voice said from behind me. I turned to see Lady Malvora leaning against the door jamb. "Can I help you with something, Winter Knight? Problem, perhaps?"

Gritting my teeth, I very quietly said, "You set me up."

She said nothing, and didn't move a muscle, just gazed at me.

"You sent me and mine in to clear out a phobophage infestation. You used me to kill some competition."

She lifted an eyebrow.

"You must be so proud of yourself."

"You know how the game is played." She did finally smile and take a step into the garage. "One does not get ahead by letting opportunities slip by."

"I've got a damn fine opportunity to incinerate you where you stand."

"Try it. I'm faster than you. But feel free to destroy anything else you want, obviously."

"Obviously?"

"Of course. The whole Court knows that House Raith shares a bond with you, Sir Knight. Hell, one of them drove you here. Your failure today, and your sad little attempt to even the scales by force, will tarnish House Raith. So please," she said, spreading her arms, "give me more to show them. My car, perhaps?"

I let energy flow through me and into my staff, lighting up the carved runes with golden light. I looked at the car, and appeared to seriously consider it. Then I let the light fade. "You're not worth it." For another moment, I just stood there and seethed. Finally, I took a step towards her and looked down. "If you ever - " I began.

She rolled her head back. "Oh, empty night, you are a walking cliché. Get out of my house, Wizard. Before I remove you."

I grinned at her. "And get your hands dirty?"

"Who said I would use my hands?" She stepped to the side and held out an arm towards the door like Vanna White.

I gave her one last withering look, and stomped off down the hall, around the corner and out the front door.

All the while, trying to hide my smile.

I clambered into the Humvee, and Thomas got us moving right away. I glanced into the back where Marci, Carlos and Connie were waiting.

"Did it work?" Carlos asked.

"I think so," I said. "Lara was right; Danicka drives herself everywhere, and only has one car because having another would look weak." I pulled my pocket watch out, its chain now half the length it used to be. "The links are stuck to the inside of her car. That epoxy will hold, right?" I asked Marci.

"Absolutely. Fastest on the market," she said.

"I hope so; it was expensive enough."

"Isn't Karrin going to be mad about the whole 'no direct confrontation' promise you made?" Thomas asked.

"You heard that?" I asked.

"Vampire," he said.

I sighed. "Don't worry. This wasn't a direct confrontation. It was a misdirect. A misdirect confrontation."

"You honestly think she'll buy that?"

I hesitated.

"Women are a lot smarter than you might think, Dresden," Carlos said. "Tougher, too."

I felt a spike of guilt and turned in my seat. "How's Andi?"

Marci spoke up. "She should be fine. I spoke to the doctor right after you went charging in there. They said it was mostly bruises, some soft tissue damage and maybe a mild concussion. No internal bleeding." She shook her head. "It's kind of nice that the Court has doctors on stand-by. It would have been impossible to explain everything at a vanilla hospital."

"We don't have them everywhere," Thomas said, "but if you're in one of the ten biggest cities in the country or so? Yeah. You're covered." My brother pulled us off the road, and into a Burger King parking lot. He carefully parked behind the building, making it difficult to see the road – and thus, to be seen from the road.

I sat in the back of the truck, weaving the tracking spell, focused on my watch. I suspended it from a hook in the ceiling. Once the spell was released and I broke the circle of sand I had laid out, the watch, against gravity, leaned east, back towards the rest of the chain. And it stayed there for a while, just hanging, lazily leaning in the same direction. I had begun to wonder if I'd miscalculated, if my hunch about Danicka Malvora was wrong as the sun beaded down. But I couldn't afford to think that way. I had to send Marci and Carlos into the Burger King for food, while I sat and waited.

"You really think you're right about this?" Thomas asked.

"I had better be. We don't have any other leads."

"But you heard Lara. Krejetzy hates the White Court. Why would he work with any of us?"

"I don't know, honestly. But it's the only thing that makes sense right now."

Most of the food was gone before the watch suddenly jerked and moved.

"She's moving," I said. I had a map of the city laid out before me. "She's leaving her neighborhood."

"Are we sure it's even her?" Connie asked before shoving fries in her mouth. "Couldn't someone else be driving the car?"

"Sign of weakness," Thomas said. "No decoys, no misdirects; goes against the fear-monger instinct. All White Court are manipulative liars, but they all do it differently. Raiths are subtle and seductive, Skavis are brutal and mouthy, Malvora like to be physical and in your face."

"Why?"

He gave her a mirthless grin. "It's so that you can't see the knife in your back. They like to be very upfront about themselves, but have the actual damage done by others. They like forcing people in to situations, backing them into corners, then watching as they get played with by others. They consider anything less to be unworthy. The rest of us consider them to be base, crass assholes."

"Delightful family you got," Carlos said, finishing his Pepsi with a big slurping sound.

"Yeah," I said, "the reunions get a bit explosive, but you already knew that." Carlos snorted. "She's heading north. Should be passing by us shortly."

Thomas shoved the big truck into gear, and waited. I watched the watch as it began to swing in a quick arc. I looked through a window at a small slit of road visible from our parking spot. An expensive, Italian-designed black blur shot by. "There she goes. Head north."

He hit the gas. The chase was on.

A/N: If you're enjoying this story, thank you for reading, and reviews are most welcome!

Now for a shameless plug: If you're interested, I recently had an original piece published as part of the anthology Love, Loss, Longing, now available on Amazon. A lot of good, up-and-coming authors are represented in there, so I encourage you to take a look!