“Little . . . Winter Knight stuff?”
“Pretty much,” I said. “Mab . . . kinda gave me the tour during my recovery.”
“What happened?” she asked.
I found my eyes wandering to Bob’s skull. Telling Molly what was going on would mean that she was involved. It would draw her into the conflict. I didn’t want to expose her to that kind of danger—not again.
Of course, it probably wasn’t my sole decision. And besides, Molly had intervened in an assassination that had been really close to succeeding. Whoever was behind the swarm of piranha pixies had probably seen it. Molly was already in the fight. If I started keeping things from her now, it would only hinder her chances of surviving it.
I didn’t want her involved, but she’d earned the right to make that choice for herself.
So I gave it to her, straight, succinct, and with zero editing except for the bit about Halloween. It felt sort of strange. I hardly ever tell anyone that much truth. The truth is dangerous. She listened, her large eyes steadily focused on a point around my chin.
When I finished, all she said was, “Turn around.”
I did, and she started working on the cuts on my chest, arms, and face. Again, cleaning the wounds was a little uncomfortable, but nothing more. I watched her tending me. I couldn’t read her expression. She didn’t look up at my eyes while she worked, and she kept her manner brisk and steady, very businesslike.
“Molly,” I said, as she finished.
She paused, still not looking up at me.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I had to ask you to help me . . . do what I did. I’m sorry that I didn’t make you stay home from Chichén Itzá. I never should have exposed you to that. You weren’t ready.”
“No kidding,” Molly said quietly. “But . . . I wasn’t really taking no for an answer at the time, either. Neither of us made smart choices that night.”
“Maybe. But only one of us is the mentor,” I said. “I’m supposed to be the one who knows what’s going on.”
Molly shook her head several times, a jerky motion. “Harry—it’s over. Okay? It’s done. It’s the past. Let it stay there.”
“Sure you want that?”
“I am.”
“Okay.” I picked up a paper towel and dabbed at a few runnels of peroxide bubbling their way down my stomach. “Well. Now all I need is a clean shirt.”
Molly pointed at one of the oak doors. “In there. There are two dressers and a closet. Nothing fancy, but I’m pretty sure it will all fit you.”
I blinked several times. “Um. What?”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Harry . . . duh. I knew you were alive. That meant you’d be coming back. Lea told me to keep it to myself, so I got a place ready for you.” She took a quick step back into the kitchen, opened a drawer, and came back with a small brass key. “Here, this will get you past the locks, and past the svartalves’ wards and past my defenses.”
I took the key, frowning. “Um . . .”
“I’m not asking you to shack up with me, Harry,” Molly said, her tone dry. “It’s just . . . until you get back on your feet. Or . . . or just as long as you’re in town and need a place to stay.”
“Did you think I couldn’t take care of it myself?”
“Of course not,” Molly said. “But . . . you know. I guess I think that maybe you shouldn’t have to?” She looked up at me uncertainly. “You were there when I needed you. I figured it was my turn now.”
I looked away before I got all emotional. The kid had gotten this place together, made some kind of alliance with a very suspicious and cautious supernatural nation, furnished a room for me,
“I’m impressed, grasshopper,” I said. “Seriously.”
“This isn’t the impressive part,” she said. “But I don’t think we have time to get into that right now, given what you’ve got going.”
“Let’s survive Halloween,” I said, “and then maybe we can sit and have a nice talk. Molly, you shouldn’t have done this for me.”
“Ego much?” she asked, the ghost of her old, irreverent self lurking in her eyes. “I got this place for
“Yours?” I suggested.
“Stable,” she said. “Quiet. And mine. Not that you aren’t welcome here. While you need it.”
“I suppose you didn’t get those clothes for my sake, either.”
“Maybe I started dating basketball teams,” Molly said, her eyes actually sparkling for a moment. “You don’t know.”
“Sure I do,” I said.
She started putting the kit away. “Think of the clothes as . . . as a birthday present.” She looked up at me for a second and gave me a hesitant smile. “It’s really good to see you, Harry. Happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’d give you a hug, but I’d bleach and bloodstain your clothes at the same time.”
“Rain check,” Molly said. “I’m, uh . . . Working up to hugs might take a while.” She took a deep breath. “Harry, I know you’ve got your hands full already, but there’s something you need to know.”
I frowned. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She rubbed her arms with her hands as though cold. “I’ve kind of been visiting your island.”
In the middle of the southern reaches of Lake Michigan lies an island that doesn’t appear on any charts, maps, or satellite images. It’s a nexus point of ley lines of dark energy, and it doesn’t like company. It encourages people who come near it to get lost and wander away. Planes fly over the thing all the time, but no one sees it. A few years back, I’d bound myself to the island, and the world-class genius loci that watched over it. I’d named it Demonreach, and knew relatively little about it, beyond that it was an ally.
When I’d been shot and plunged into the dark waters of Lake Michigan, it had taken Mab and Demonreach both to preserve my life. I’d woken up from a coma in a cavern beneath the island’s surface with plants growing into my freaking veins like some kind of organic IV line. It was a seriously weird kind of place.
“How did you get there?” I asked.
“In a boat. Duh.”
I gave her a look. “You know what I mean.”
She smiled, the expression a little sad. “After you’ve had someone like the Corpsetaker pound your mind into pomegranate seeds, a psychic No Trespassing sign seems kinda slow-pitch.”
“Heh,” I said. “Point. But it’s a dangerous place, Molly.”
“And it’s getting worse,” she said.
I shifted my weight uneasily. “Define ‘worse.’”
“Energy is building up there. Like . . . like steam in a boiler. I know I’m still new at this—but I’ve talked with Lea about it and she agrees.”
God, she was dragging this out, making me wonder what she knew. I hate that. “Agrees with
“Um,” Molly said, looking down. “Harry. I think that within the next few days, the island is going to explode. And I think that when it does, it will take about half the Midwest with it.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Of course it is,” I said. I looked around and grabbed the first-aid kit, then started stomping toward the indicated guest bedroom. “I
