Quotes

[notevendarkyet]

Murphy leaned down and rested her forehead gently against mine. "You are such an enormous pain in my ass, Harry. Don't scare me like that again."

Her fingers found mine and squeezed really tight. I squeezed back, too tired to do anything else.

Something brushed my foot, and I nearly screamed. I sat up, reaching for power, raising my right hand, while invisible force gathered around it in shimmering waves.

A corpse floated in the water, nude, facedown. It was a man I'd never seen before, his hair long, grey, and matted. His limp, outstretched hand had bumped against my foot.

"Jesus, Harry," Murphy said, her voice shaking "He's dead. Harry, it's okay. He's dead, Harry."

My right hand remained where it was, fingers outspread, ripples of light flickering over them. Then they started shaking I lowered my hand again, releasing the power I'd gathered, and as I did I felt my fingers tingle and go numb once more.

I stared at them, puzzled. That wasn't right. I was fairly sure that I should be a lot more worried about that than I was at the moment, but I couldn't put together enough cohesive thought to remember why.

Murphy was still talking, her voice steady and soothing I dimly realized, a minute later, that it was the tone of voice you use with crazy people and frightened animals, and that I was breathing hard and fast despite the lack of any exertion to explain it.

"It's all right, Harry," she said. "He's dead. You can let go of me."

That was when I realized that my left arm had pulled Murphy tight against me, drawing her across my body and away from the corpse as I'd gotten ready to do... whatever it was I had been about to do. She was, at the moment, more or less sitting across my lap. Wherever she was touching me, I was warm. It took me a moment to figure out exactly why it was a good idea to let her go. Eventually, though, I did.

***

Sanya came along behind Michael, soaking wet, his chest bare underneath his coat. Never mind Michael's pecs. Sanya made us both look like we needed to eat more wheat germ or something. He was carrying Esperacchius and Amoracchius over one shoulder—and Kincaid over the other.

***

"Nothing a few days in a hospital, a new set of lungs, a keg of Mac's dark, and a pair of feisty redheads couldn't cure," I mumbled. I tried for cavalier, but it came out a little flatter and darker than I'd meant it to. "I'll live."

***

"After," I said. "First things first. War council in the kitchen. And if someone doesn't make me a cup of coffee, I'm going to shimmy dry all over everything, like Mouse."

"Mouse is too polite to do that in my house," Michael said.

"Like somebody else's dog then," I said. "Crap, I forgot my staff."

***

To my amusement, Murphy had insisted on accompanying Kincaid—which meant that the cops were about to learn the location of another of Marcone's secret stashes, maybe even the name of whatever doctor he had on his payroll. And since it was Murphy's car, and Murphy was with me, and Gard needed my help, there wasn't diddly Gard could do about it.

That's my Murphy, manufacturing her own damned silver lining when the clouds didn't cough one up.

[Murphy: Thank you, Harry. I'm glad you can appreciate that.]

***

"That isn't much of a plan," Luccio said. "You could have chosen any one of a dozen neutral arbiters."

Murphy snorted. "But it's Dresden. He's lived in the same apartment since I first met him. Drives the same car. Drinks at that same little pub. Favorite restaurant is Burger King. He gets the same damned meal every time he goes there, too."

"You can't improve on perfection," I said. "That's why it's called perfection. And what's your point?"

"You're a creature of habit, Harry. You don't like change."

***

Murphy sat beside the bed, looking worried. I'd seen the expression on her face before, when I'd been the one lying horizontal. I expected to feel a surge of jealousy, but it didn't happen. I just felt bad for Murph.

***

Kincaid shuddered, and his breath rasped harshly for several seconds.

Murphy's shoulder went steely with tension.

The wounded man's breathing steadied again.

"Hey," I said quietly. "Easy."

She shook her head. "I hate this."

"He's tougher than you or me," I said quietly.

"That's not what I mean."

I remained silent, waiting for her to speak.

"I hate feeling like this. I'm tucking terrified, and I hate it." The muscles in her jaw tensed. "This is why I don't want to get involved anymore. It hurts too much."

I squeezed her shoulder gently. "Involved, huh?"

"No," she said. Then she shook her head. "Yes. I don't know. It's complicated, Harry."

"Caring about someone isn't complicated," I said. "It isn't easy. But it isn't complicated, either. Kinda like lifting the engine block out of a car."

She gave me an oblique glance. "Leave it to a man to describe intimate relationships in terms of automotive mechanics."

"Yeah. I was Linda proud of that one, myself."

She huffed out a quiet breath, squeezed her eyes shut, and leaned her cheek down onto my hand. "The stupid part," she said, "is that he isn't interested in... in getting serious. We get along. We have fun together. For him, that's enough. And it's so stupid for me to get hung up on him."

I didn't think it was all that stupid. Murph didn't want to get too close, let herself be too vulnerable. Kincaid didn't want that kind of relationship either—which made him safe. It made it all right for her to care.

***

I just leaned down and kissed the top of her head gently.

She shivered. Her tears made wet, cool spots on the back of my hand. I knelt. It put my head more or less on level with hers, where she sat beside the bed. I put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against me. I still didn't say anything For Murph, that would be too much like I was actually in the room, seeing her cry. So she pretended that she wasn't crying and I pretended that I didn't notice.

She didn't cry for long. A couple of minutes. Then her breathing steadied, and I could feel her asserting control again. A minute more and she sat up and away from me. I let her.

***

"They shouldn't have suspected you," Murphy said. "I'm a paranoid bitch, and I gave up suspecting you a long time ago."

***

Her fingers found my hand and squeezed tight once. "We're all imaginary friends to one another, Harry."

***

She snorted gently. "There's a surprise. Dresden forgets that he's not invincible."

***

"They know that Michael and Sanya and I are going to be out there. They'll know that there will be someone here, unprotected. Whether or not they get the coins, Nicodemus might send someone here to finish off the wounded."

Murphy stared at me for a second, then looked back at Kincaid. "You bastard," she said without emphasis.

***

She scowled at Kincaid. Then she said, "Trying to guilt me into playing worried girlfriend, domestic defender, and surrogate mother figure, eh?"

***

"The girl is important to him," Murphy said. "More important to him than anything has been for a long time, Harry. He'd die to protect her. If he was conscious, he'd be demanding to go with you. But he can't do that. So I'll have to do it for him."

***

Once we were in the car and moving, Murphy said, ''I like Luccio."

"Yeah."

"But she's all wrong for you."

"Uh-huh," I said.

"You come from different worlds. And she's your boss. There are secrets you have to keep from her. That's going to make things difficult. And there are other issues that could come up."

"Wait," I said. I mimed cleaning out my ears. "Okay, go ahead. Because for a second there, it sounded like you were giving me relationship advice."

Murphy gave me a narrow, oblique look. "No offense, Dresden. But if you want to compare total hours of good relationships and bad, I leave you in the dust in both categories."

"Touché," I said. Sourly. "Kincaid was looking awfully paternal in there, wasn't he?"

"Oh, bite me," Murphy said, scowling "How's Michael?"

"Gonna make it," I said. "Hurt bad, though. Don't know how mobile he's going to be after this."

Murphy fretted her lower lip. "What happens if he can't... keep on with the Knight business?'

I shook my head. "I have no idea."

"I just... I didn't think that taking up one of the swords was the sort of job offer you could turn down."

I blinked at Murphy. "No, Murph. There's no mandatory martyrdom involved. You've got a choice. You've always got a choice. That's... sort of the whole point of faith, the way I understand it."

She digested that in silence for a time. Then she said, "It isn't because I don't believe."

"I know that," I said.

She nodded. "It isn't for me, though, Harry. I've already chosen my ground. I've taken an oath. It meant more to me than accepting a job."

"I know," I said. "If you weren't the way you are, Murph, the Sword of Faith wouldn't have reacted to you as strongly as it did. If someone as thick as me understands it, I figure the Almighty probably gets it too."

***

When we got there she parked next to the Blue Beetle. "Harry," she said, "do you ever feel like we're going to wind up old and alone? That we're... I don't know... doomed never to have anyone? Anything that lasts?"

I flexed the fingers of my still-scarred left hand and my mildly tingling right hand. "I'm more worried about all the things I'll never be rid of. I eyed her. "What brings on this cheerful topic?"

She gave me a faint smile. "It's just... the center cannot hold, Harry. I think things are starting to fall apart. I can't see it, and I can't prove it, but I know it." She shook her head. "Maybe I'm just losing my mind."

I looked intently at her, frowning "No, Murph. You aren't."

"There are bad things happening," she said.

"Yeah. And I haven't been able to put many pieces together. Yet. But we shut down some of the bad guys last night. They were using the Denarians to get to the Archive."

"What do they want?"

"Don't know," I said. "But it's going to be big and bad."

"I want in on this fight, Harry," she said.

"Okay."

"All the way. Promise me."

"Done." I offered her my hand.

She took it.