"You think he had something to do with that murder?" Billy asked.
"Of course not," Georgia said. "But I think he might have been working on a case and gotten involved with the victim in some way. You know how he is. He probably blames himself for her death."
I swallowed and tried not to think of a pretty, dark-haired woman bleeding to death while the hold of her boat slowly filled with water. She'd made enough bad choices to get herself into trouble. But I hadn't been able to protect her from the creature that had taken her life.
"If he's in trouble we're going to help him," Billy said.
"Yes," Georgia replied. "But think about this, Billy. Getting involved might not be the best way to do it."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that he didn't want us to take him to the apartment," Georgia said. "Do you know why?"
"No, I don't. Neither do you."
She made a disgusted sound. "Billy, he's afraid the apartment is being watched."
"By who?"
"By what, what," Georgia said. "We haven't seen or heard or scented anything. If there's magic at work here, it could be more than we know how to handle."
"So what are you saying?" Billy said. "That we should just abandon him if he's in trouble?"
"No." She sighed. "But, Billy, you saw what he was capable of doing. We saw him mow through an army at the faerie battleground. And you tell me tonight that he flipped a car onto one of these other wizards, and that the man blew it off. I don't think we're weak, but running off ghouls and trolls and the occasional vampire is one thing. Mixing it up with wizards is something else. You've seen what kind of power they have."
"I'm not afraid," Billy said.
"Then you're stupid," Georgia replied, her voice blunt but not cruel. "Harry isn't what he used to be. He's been hurt. And I don't care what he says, his injured hand bothers him more than he lets on. He doesn't need any more handicaps."
"You want to just leave him alone?" Billy asked.
"I don't want to weigh him down. You know him. He'll protect other people before he takes care of himself. If he's operating so far out of our league, we might not be anything but a distraction to him. We have to understand our limits."
There was a long silence.
"I don't care," Billy said then. "I'm not just going to stand by if he's in trouble."
"All I want," Georgia said, "is for you to listen to him. If he doesn't want our support, or if he thinks it is too dangerous for us to be involved, we have to trust that he knows what he's doing. He knows things that we don't. He's trusted us before, and he's never led us wrong. Just promise me that you'll return the compliment."
"I can't just...turn away," Billy said.
"I wouldn't want you to," Georgia said. "But...sometimes you think with your fangs and not with your head, Will." There was the soft sound of a kiss. "I love you. We'll help him however we can. I just wanted you to consider the idea that he might not need us for violence."
Billy took a couple of heavy steps. One of the kitchen chairs creaked. "I don't know what else we can do."
"Well," Georgia said. She opened the fridge. "What about these masked wizard types. Did you get close enough to scent them?"
"I tried," Billy said. "And I was closest to them. But..."
"But?"
"I couldn't get a scent. Harry did something. He flipped the car over. There was a flash of red light and after that all I could smell was..."
I heard Georgia take a couple of steps, maybe to touch him. "What did you smell?"
"Sulfur," Billy said, his voice a little weak. "I smelled brimstone."
There was silence.
"What does it mean?" Georgia asked.
"That I'm worried about him," Billy said. "You should have seen the look on his face. The rage. I've never seen anyone look that angry."
"You think he's...what? Unstable?" Georgia asked.
"You're the psych grad," Billy said. "What do you think?"
I put my hand on the door. I hesitated for just a second and then pushed it open.
Billy and Georgia both sat in a rather roomy kitchen at a small table, with two bottles of beer set open but untouched on the table. They blinked and straightened, staring up at me in surprise.
"What do you think?" I asked Georgia quietly. "I'd like to know, too."
"Harry," Georgia said, "I'm just a grad student."
I went to the fridge and got myself a cold beer. It was an American brand, but I've got no palate in any case. I like my beer cold. I twisted the cap off, then walked over to the table and sat down with them. "I'm not looking for a therapist. You're a friend. Both of you are." I swigged beer. "Tell me what you think."
Georgia and Billy traded a look, and Billy nodded.
"Harry," Georgia said, "I think you need to talk to someone. I don't think it's important who it is. But you have a lot of pressures on you, and if you don't find some way to let them out, you're going to hurt yourself."
Billy said, "People talk to their friends, man. No one can do everything alone. You work through it together."
I sipped some more beer. Georgia and Billy did, too. We sat in silence for maybe four or five minutes.
Then I said, "About two years ago I exposed myself to a demonic influence. A creature called Lasciel. A fallen angel. The kind of being that turns people into...into real monsters."
Georgia watched me, her eyes focused intently on my face. "Why did you do that?"
"It was in a silver coin," I said. "Whoever touched it would have been exposed. There was a child who had no idea what it was. I didn't think. I just slapped my hand over it before the child could pick it up."
Georgia nodded. "What happened?"
"I took measures to contain it," I said. "I did everything I could think of, and for a while I thought I'd been successful." I sipped more beer. "Then last year, I realized that my magic was being augmented by a demonic energy called Hellfire. That's what you smelled tonight, Billy, when I flipped the car."
"Why do you use it?" Billy asked.
I shook my head. "It isn't my choice. It just happens."
Georgia frowned. "I'm not an expert on magic, Harry, but from what I've learned that kind of power doesn't come for free."
"No. It doesn't."
"Then what was the price?" she asked.
I drew in a deep breath. Then I started peeling the leather glove off my scarred hand. "I wondered that too," I said. I slid the glove off and turned my hand over.
The scarring was the worst on the insides of my fingers and over my palm. It looked more like melted wax than human flesh, all white with flares of blue where some of the veins still survived-all except for the exact center of my palm. There, three lines of pink, healthy flesh formed a sigil vaguely suggestive of an hourglass.
"I found this there when I got burned," I said. "It's an ancient script. It's the symbol for the name of Lasciel."
Georgia drew in a slow breath and said, "Oh."
Billy looked back and forth between us. "Oh? What, oh?"
Georgia gave me a be-patient look and turned to Billy. "It's a demon mark. Like a brand, yes?" She looked at me for confirmation.
I nodded.
"He's worried that this demon, Lasciel, might be exerting some kind of control on him in ways that he cannot detect."
"Right," I said. "Everything I know tells me that I should be cut off from Lasciel. That I should be safe. But the power is still there somehow. And if the demon is influencing my thoughts, pulling my strings, I might not even be able to feel it happening."
Georgia frowned. "Do you believe that to be a probability?"
"It's too dangerous to assume anything else," I said. I held up a hand. "That's not hubris. It's just a fact. I have power. If I use it unwisely or recklessly, people could get hurt. They could die. And if Lasciel is somehow influencing me..."
"Who knows what could happen," Billy finished, his tone sober.
"Yeah."
"Damn," Billy said.
We all took a sip of beer.
"I'm worried," I said. "I haven't been able to find any answers. I've gone through spell after spell. Rites, ceremonies, I've tried everything. It won't go away."
"Jesus," Billy breathed.
"An influence like this is detectable, and against the Laws of Magic. If the Wardens found out and pushed a trial on me, it might be enough to get me executed. And if I get near the Knight of the Cross I told you about, he'll be able to feel it on me. I don't know how he'd react. What he would think." I swallowed. "I'm scared."
Georgia touched my arm briefly, then said, "You shouldn't be so hard on yourself, Harry. I know you well enough to know that you would never want that kind of power, much less abuse it."
"If some part of me didn't want it," I asked, "why didn't I pick up the kid instead of Lasciel's coin?"
A heavy silence settled over the kitchen.
"You've been friends to me. Stuck it out by me when times were rough," I said a moment later. "You've made me welcome in your home. In your life. You're good people. I'm sorry I haven't been more open with you."
"Is that what tonight was about?" Billy asked. "The demon?"
"No," I said. "Tonight was different. And I can't tell you about it."
"If you're trying to protect us..." Billy began.
"I'm not protecting you," I said. "I'm protecting someone else. If I'm seen with you, it could get them badly hurt. Maybe even killed."
"I don't understand. I want to help..." Billy said.
Georgia put her hand over Billy's. He glanced at her, flushed, and then closed his mouth.
I nodded and finished the beer. "I need you to trust me for a little while. I'm sorry. But the faster I'm out of here, the better."
"How can we help?" Georgia asked.
"Just knowing that you want to is a help," I told her. "But that's almost the only thing you can do. For now, at least."
"Almost the only thing?"
I nodded. "If I could get something to eat, and maybe a ride back to my car, I'd be obliged."
"We can do that," Billy said.
"Thank you," I said.
Chapter Ten
I raided the refrigerator and divested it of a small plate of cold cuts while Billy made a call to his apartment. Moments later one of the other Alphas called back, confirming that the furor around Bock Ordered Books had begun to die down. raided the refrigerator and divested it of a small plate of cold cuts while Billy made a call to his apartment. Moments later one of the other Alphas called back, confirming that the furor around Bock Ordered Books had begun to die down.
"Only one patrol car still there," Billy reported. "Plus the guys with the wrecker."
"We shouldn't wait any longer," I said. "With cops around, any neighborhood monsters will lie low for a while to be careful. I want to be back there and gone before they get moving again."
"Eat in the car," Georgia suggested, and we all piled back into her SUV.
Georgia parked on the curb behind the Beetle and let me out. I had my keys in my hand, ready to get in and get gone. But when I saw the car, I stopped.
Someone had smashed out the remaining windows in the car. Glass littered the street and the car's interior. Parts of the windshield were missing, and the rest clung together in a mass of fracture lines that made the whole mess opaque. The back window had already been broken when I used my force ring on that zombie earlier in the evening. The doors and the hood were dented in dozens of places, and the door handles had been entirely smashed off. The tires sagged limply, and I could see long, neat slashes in them without difficulty.
I approached the car slowly.