Cold Days
Page 73

 Jim Butcher

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Thomas snorted and slipped a white plastic card out of his pocket. It was utterly unmarked except for a few stamped numbers and a magnetic strip. He flicked it across the table to Molly. "When you get your pizza, have them run that."
Molly studied the card, back and front. "Is this a Diners Club card or something?"
"It's a Raith contingency card," he said. "Lara hands them out to the family. Once they ring up the first charge on the card, it'll be good for twenty-four hours."
"For how much?" Molly asked.
"Twenty-four hours," Thomas repeated.
Molly lifted her eyebrows.
Thomas smiled faintly. "Don't worry about amounts. My sister doesn't really believe in limits. Do whatever you want with it. I don't care."
Molly took the card and placed it very carefully in her secondhand coin purse. "Okay." She looked at me. "Now?"
I nodded. "Get a move on."
She paused to draw a pen from her purse. She scribbled on a napkin and passed it to me. "My apartment's phone."
I glanced at it, read it, and memorized it. Then I slid it to Thomas, who tucked the napkin away in a pocket. "You're going to just send her out there alone?"
Molly regarded Thomas blankly. Then vanished.
"Oh," Thomas said. "Right."
I stood up and crossed the room to the door. I opened it and glanced out, as though scanning suspiciously for anyone's approach. I felt Molly slip out past me as I did. Then I closed it again and came back inside. Thunder rumbled over the lake, but no rain fell.
"I noticed," my brother drawled, "that you didn't leave her a way to contact you."
"Did you?"
He snorted. "You think Fix would hurt her?"
"I think she won't give him much choice," I said. "She's come a long way-but Fix is exactly the wrong kind of threat for her to mess with. He's used to glamour, he can defend against it, and he's smart."
"Molly's not too shabby herself," Thomas said.
"Molly is my responsibility," I said.
I hadn't meant for the words to come out that cold, that hard. The anger surprised me, but it bubbled and seethed still. Some part of me was furious at Thomas for questioning my decision regarding my apprentice. Molly was mine, and I would be damned if some chisel-jawed White Court pretty boy was going to-
I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw. Pride. Possession. Territoriality. That wasn't me. That was the mantle of Winter talking through me.
"Sorry," I said a moment later, and opened my eyes.
Thomas hadn't reacted in any way, to my snarl, my anger, or my apology. He just studied me. Then he said, quietly, "I want to suggest something to you. I'm not trying to make youdo anything. You just need to hear it."
"Sure," I said.
"I'm a predator, Harry," he said. "We both know that."
"Yeah. So?"
"So I recognize it in others when I see it."
"And?"
"And you're looking at Molly like she's food."
I frowned at him. "I am not."
He shrugged. "It isn't all the time. It's just little moments. You look at her, and I can see the calculations running. You notice every time she yawns."
I didn't want what Thomas was saying to be true. "So what?"
"When she yawns, she's showing us that she's tired. It makes us take notice because tired prey is easy prey." He leaned forward, putting one arm on the table. "I know what I'm talking about."
"No," I said, my voice getting cold again. "You don't."
"I tried going into denial like that when I was about fifteen. It didn't work out too well."
"What?" I asked him. "You think I'm going to attack her when she goes to sleep?"
"Yeah," he said. "If you don't recognize what's motivating you and control it, you will. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But eventually. You can't just ignore those instincts, man. If you do, they'll catch you off guard some night. And you will hurt her, one way or another."
I wasn't sure what to say to that. I frowned down at my empty bottle of ale.
"She trusts you," Thomas said. "I think some part of you knows that. I think that part sent her away from you for a damned good reason. Take this seriously, Harry."
"Yeah," I said quietly. "I'll . . . try. This stuff keeps catching me off guard."
"Nature of the beast. You've always been good at keeping things right between the two of you, even though she's carrying a torch the size of a building. I admire you for that. I'd hate to see it come apart."
I rubbed at my eyes. My brother was right. I'd been forcing myself to look away from Molly all morning. That had never been an issue before. That was part of Winter, too-hunger and lust, a need for heat in the darkness. It had driven Lloyd Slate, just as it had several other Winter Knights over the years.
It had driven them insane.
I had to learn to recognize that influence before someone got hurt.
"Yeah, okay," I said. "When I get done sprinting from one forest fire to the next, I'll . . . I'll figure something out. Until then, feel free to slap me around a bit if you think I need it."
Thomas nodded very seriously, but his eyes sparkled. "I'm your brother. I pretty much always feel free to do that."