JIM BUTCHER - SMALL FAVOR

“As would I,” Luccio agreed.

“Is she really that dangerous?” Michael asked.

“Yes,” Luccio said calmly. “The Council regards her as a significant power in her own right, on par with the youngest Queens of the Sidhe Courts.”

“If anything, I think that profile in the Wardens’ files underestimates her,” I said quietly. “She had barely anything to work with, and she was making Tessa and her crew look like pygmies trying to capture an elephant. If she hadn’t been cut off so entirely, I think she’d have eaten them alive.”

Luccio frowned, disturbed. “Truly?”

“You had to have seen it,” I said. “I’ve never seen anyone…You had to have seen it.”

“If she’s that powerful,” Michael said quietly, “can she be contained?”

“Oh, yes,” I said. “Absolutely. But it would take a greater circle-heavy-duty ritual stuff in a prepared location. And it would have to be freaking flawless, or she could break it.”

Molly screwed up her face in distress. “She won’t…won’t take one of the coins. Will she?” She glanced back and forth between Luccio and me and shrugged a little. “Because…it would be bad if she did.”

I looked at Michael. “The Fallen can’t just jump in and overwhelm someone, can they? Outright, nonconsensual possession?”

“Not normally,” Michael replied. “There are circumstances that can change that, though. Mentally damaged people can be susceptible to it. Other things can open a spirit to possession. Drugs, involvement with dark rituals, extended, deliberate contact with spiritual entities. A few other things.”

“Drugs,” I said tiredly. “Jesus.”

Michael winced.

“Sorry.”

“Even if a soul is made vulnerable to assault,” Michael said, “the mind and will can fight against an invasive spirit. Surely the Archive qualifies as a formidable mind and will.”

“Sure. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that Ivy does. Since she was born she’s been the Archive. She’s never had a chance to develop her own mind, her own personality.” I stood up, shaking my head, and started to pace restlessly around the room. “She’s going to be helpless, probably for the first time since she could walk. Alone. Scared.” I looked at Michael. “You think that those…people…won’t know how to terrify a little girl?”

He grimaced and bowed his head.

“And then along comes the Fallen and tells her how it can help her. How it wants to be her friend. How it can make the bad people stop hurting her.” I shook my head and clenched my hands. “Maybe she’ll know the facts. But those facts aren’t going to be much comfort to her. They aren’t going to feel tr-”

I blinked and looked at Michael. Then Molly. Then I stormed past them into the kitchen and grabbed the pad of paper Charity kept stuck to the fridge with a magnet to use to make grocery lists. I found a pencil on top of the fridge and sat down at the kitchen table, writing furiously.

Ivy,

You are not alone.

Kincaid is alive. I’m all right. We’re coming after you.

Don’t listen to them. Hang on.

We’re coming.

You are not alone.

Harry

“Oh,” said Molly, reading over my shoulder. “That’s clever.”

“If it works,” Luccio said. “Will she know it?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I don’t know what else I can do.” I rubbed at my forehead. “Is there any food?”

“I made pot roast,” Molly said.

“But is there any food?”

She swatted me on the back of the head, though not too hard, and went to the refrigerator.

I made a sandwich out of things. I’m an American. We can eat anything as long as it’s between two pieces of bread. With enough mustard I almost couldn’t taste the roast. For a few minutes I paid attention to eating, and was hungry enough to actually enjoy part of the experience-the part where Molly’s pot roast finally terrified my growling stomach into silence.

The phone rang.

Michael answered. He listened for a moment and then said gently, “It isn’t too late to seek redemption. Not even for you.”

Someone laughed merrily on the other end of the phone.

“Just a moment,” Michael said a breath later. He turned, holding his hand over the phone, and said, “Harry.”

“Him,” I said.

Michael nodded.

I went to the phone and took it from him. “Dresden.”

“I’m impressed, Dresden,” Nicodemus said. “I expected the Hellhound to make a good showing, of course, but you surprised me. Your skills are developing quite rapidly. Tessa is furious with you.”

“I’m tired,” I replied. “Do you want to talk deal or not?”

“I wouldn’t have called, otherwise,” Nicodemus replied. “But let’s keep this a bit simpler, shall we? Just you and me. I have no desire to drag Chicago’s underworld or the rest of the White Council into this ugly little affair. Mutually guaranteed safe passage, of course.”

“We did that once,” I said.

“And despite the fact that you betrayed the neutrality of the meeting well before I or any of my people took action-which I take as a highly promising act on your part-I am willing to extend my trust to you once more.”

I bit out a little laugh. “Yeah. You’re a saint.”

“One day,” Nicodemus said. “One day. But for now, let’s say a face-to-face meeting. A talk. Just you and I.”

“So you and your posse can jump me alone? No, thanks.”

“Come now. As you say, I do want to talk deal. If you’re willing to extend your word of safe passage, we can even have it on your own ground.”

“Oh?” I asked. “And where would that be?”

“It doesn’t matter to me, as long as I don’t have to be seen with you while you’re wearing that ridiculous borrowed ensemble.”

The hairs on the back of my neck started crawling up into my hairline. I turned my head around very slightly. The windows to the Carpenters’ backyard had blinds and curtains, but neither was wholly drawn. The kitchen lights made the windows into mirrors. I couldn’t see beyond them.

“What is it going to be, Dresden?” Nicodemus asked. “Will you give me your word of safe passage for our talk? Or shall I have my men open fire on that lovely young lady at the kitchen sink?”

I glanced over my shoulder to where Molly was drying dishes. She watched me out of the corner of her eye, clearly interested in the discussion, but trying not to look like it.

I couldn’t possibly warn anyone before Nick’s men could open fire-and I believed that he had them there. Probably up in the tree house. It had a reasonably good view of the kitchen.

“All right,” I said, speaking so that everyone there could hear me. “I’m giving you my word of safe passage. For ten minutes.”

“And hope to die?” Nicodemus prompted.

I gritted my teeth. “At the rate we’re going, someone will.”

He laughed again. “Keep the subject matter of this conversation between you and I, and it won’t have to be anyone in the kitchen.”

The phone disconnected.

A beat later someone knocked at the front door.

Mouse’s growl rumbled through the whole house, even though he’d remained in the front room.

“Harry?” Michael asked.

I found my shoes and stuffed my bare feet into them. “I’m going out to talk to him. Keep an eye on us, but don’t do anything if he doesn’t start it. And watch your back. The last chat with him was a distraction.” I stood up, pulled on my duster, and picked up my staff. I met Michael’s eyes and said, “Watch your back.”

Michael’s head tilted slightly. Then he looked past me, to the windows to the backyard. “Be careful.”