“Point,” she said, and sighed. “Maybe instead we just let him rest.”
“Maybe we should let him make beer,” I said. “What about Thomas?”
“Woke up. Ate.” She frowned and clarified, “Ate
“There’s always someone bigger than you,” I said.
She gave me a look.
“More true for some than others,” I clarified.
She rolled her eyes.
“So,” I said, a moment later.
“So,” she said.
“Um. Should we talk?”
“About what?”
Mouse looked back and forth between us and started wagging his tail hopefully.
“Quiet, you,” I said, and rubbed his ears. “Bad guy made of
Mouse grinned happily, unfazed, still wagging his tail.
“Don’t be so hard on him,” Karrin said. “There’s always someone bigger.” Then she shook her head and said, “Wow, we are such children. We’ll grab at any excuse not to talk about us right now.”
My soup did a little flip-flop. “Um,” I said. “Yeah.” I swallowed. “We . . . we kissed.”
“There’s a song about what that means,” Karrin said.
“Yeah. But I don’t sing.”
She paused, as if her soup had just started doing gymnastics, too.
Then she spoke very carefully. “There are factors.”
“Like Kincaid,” I said, without any heat or resentment.
“He’s not one of them,” she said. “Not anymore.”
“Oh,” I said, a little surprised.
“It’s you, Harry.”
“Pretty sure I’m supposed to be a factor.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Just . . . not against.” She took my hands. “I’ve seen things in you over the past day that . . . concern me.”
“Concern you.”
“They scare the holy loving fuck out of me,” she said calmly, by way of clarification. “This Winter Knight thing. You’re not changing. You’ve already changed.”
I felt a little chill. “What do you mean? Tonight? Hell, Karrin, when haven’t we done monsters and mayhem?”
“We’ve done it a lot,” she said. “But you’ve always been scared of it before. You did it anyway, but you thought it was scary. That’s the sane thing to think.”
“So?” I asked. “What was different about it tonight?”
“The way your erection kept pressing into my back,” she said wryly.
“Uh,” I said. “Really?”
“Yeah, a woman kind of notices.”
I hadn’t.
Gulp.
“It’s just . . . Karrin, look, that thing hardly ever does something that isn’t ill-advised. Doesn’t mean it’s going to make the calls.”
“I will never understand why men do that,” she said.
“Do what?”
“Talk about their genitals like they’re some other creature. Some kind of mind-controlling parasite.” She shook her head. “It’s just you, Harry. It’s all you. And part of you was really loving everything that was going on.”
“And that’s bad?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. Then she made a short, frustrated sound. “No. Maybe. It’s a
“Do changes have to be bad?”
“Of course not. But I don’t know if this one is bad or not yet,” she said. “Harry . . . you are the strongest man I know, in more than one sense of the word. And because you are . . . it means that if you
“You think I’d be some kind of monster,” I said.
She shrugged, and squeezed my hands with hers. “I’m not saying this right. It’s not coming out right. But I
“So am I too much of a monster or are you?” I asked. “I’m getting confused.”
“Join the club,” she said.
“You’re saying that the problem is, you think I could go bad,” I said.
“I
That much sure as hell was true. “You aren’t wrong,” I said. “But we haven’t even gone on a date yet and you’ve already skipped ahead to the ugly breakup?”
“There are factors,” she repeated in a firm, steady voice.
“Like what?” I asked.
“Like this thing with Molly,” Karrin said.
“There’s no thing with Molly,” I said. “There’s never going to be a thing with Molly.”
She sighed. “You’re a wizard. She’s a wizard. Now you’re the Winter Knight. And she’s the Winter Lady.”
“Karrin,” I began.
“And I’m going to get old and die soon,” Karrin said very, very quietly. “Relatively soon. But you’re going to keep going for centuries. And so is she. The two of you are close—and even if nothing ever happens . . . it’s one more thing. You know?”
We held hands and the fire crackled.
“Oh,” I said.
She nodded.
“So there are things stacked against us,” I said. “What else is new?”
“You are the captain of disaster in the supernatural world,” she acknowledged. “But I’m the one who has repeatedly taken relationships into icebergs. I’ve done it enough to know that you and I are the
“We’re people,” I said. “Not some fucking ship.”
“We’re also people,” she said. “A kiss when we’re both ramped up on adrenaline is one thing. A relationship is harder. A lot harder.” She shook her head. “If it ends in tears, I’m afraid it could destroy us both. And there’s a lot on the line right now. I don’t think this is something we should rush into. I need time to think. To . . . I just need time.”
I swallowed. She still wasn’t wrong. I didn’t like what she had to say, not one bit, but . . .
She wasn’t wrong.
“Is this where you tell me we need to be friends?” I asked.
She blinked and looked up at me. She touched my face with her fingertips. “Harry, we’re . . . We went past that a long time ago. I don’t know if we can . . . if we should be lovers. But I’m your friend. Your ally. I’ve seen what you want, and what you’re willing to sacrifice to make it happen.” She took one of my hands between hers, pressing hard. “I feel lost since they fired me. I don’t know what I’m meant to do or who I ought to be. But what I do know