He put his hand on my head, and for that brief second I was a child again, tired and small and utterly certain of my father's strength.
"My boy. There's so much still ahead of you."
"So much?" I whispered.
"Pain. Joy. Love. Death. Heartache. Terrible waters. Despair. Hope. I wish I could have been with you longer. I wish I could have helped you prepare for it."
"For what?" I asked him.
"Shhhhh," he said. "Sleep. I'll keep the fire lit until morning."
And darkness and deep, silent, blissfully restful night swallowed me whole.
Chapter Twelve
The next morning my brain was throbbing with far too many thoughts and worries to allow for any productive thinking. I couldn't afford that. Until I knew exactly what was going on and how to stop it, the most important weapon in my arsenal was reason.
I needed to clear my head.
I got my running clothes on as quietly as I could, but as tired as Butters looked I could probably have decked myself in a full suit of Renaissance plate armor without waking him. I took Mouse on his morning walk, filled up a plastic sports bottle with cold water, and headed for the door.
Thomas stood waiting for me at the SUV, dressed as I was in shorts and a T-shirt. Only he made it look casually chic, whereas I looked like I bought my wardrobe at garage sales.
"Where's the Beetle?" he asked.
"Shop," I said. "Someone beat it up."
"Why?"
"Not sure yet," I said. "Feel like a run?"
"Why?" he asked.
"My head's full. Need to move."
Thomas nodded in understanding. "Where?"
"Beach."
"Sure," he said. He hooked a thumb at the SUV. "What's with the battleship?"
"Billy and Georgia loaned it to me."
"That was nice of them."
"Nice and stupid. It won't last long with me driving it." I sighed. "But I need the wheels. Come on. It's after dawn, but I still don't want to leave Butters alone for long."
He nodded, and we got into the SUV. "You want to tell me what's going on?"
"God, not until I can blow off some steam running."
"I hear you," he said, and we remained silent all the way to the beach.
North Avenue Beach is one of the most popular spots in town in the summer. On a cloudy morning at the end of October, though, not many folk were about. There were two other cars in the parking lot, probably belonging to the two other joggers moving steadily on the running trail.
I parked the SUV, and Thomas and I got out. I spent a couple of minutes stretching, though it probably wasn't as thorough as it should have been. Thomas just leaned against the SUV, watching me without comment. From what I've seen, vampires don't seem to have a real big problem with pulled muscles. I nodded to him, and we both hit the running trail, starting off at the slowest jog I could manage. I ran like that for maybe ten minutes before I felt warm enough to pick up the pace. Thomas matched me the whole time, his eyes half-closed and distant. My breathing hit a comfortable stride, hard but not labored. Thomas didn't breathe hard at first, either, but my legs are a lot longer than his, and I'd developed a taste for running as exercise over the past few years. I shifted into a higher gear, and finally made him start working to keep up with me.
We ran down the beach, past the beach house-a large structure built to resemble the top few decks of an old riverboat, giving the impression that the vessel had sunk into the sand of the beach. At the far end of the beach we would turn and come back. We went all the way down and back three times before I slowed the pace a little, and said, "So you wanna hear what's going on?"
"Yeah," he said.
"Okay." There was no one nearby, and by now the sun had risen enough to touch the top of the Chicago skyline behind me. Mavra couldn't have been listening in herself, and it was unlikely any mortal accomplice could, either. It was as close to ideal privacy as I was likely to get. I started with the arrival of Mavra's package and told Thomas of the events of the entire evening.
"You know what we should do?" Thomas asked when I was finished. "We should kill Mavra. We could make it a family project."
"No," I said. "If we take her out, Murphy will be the one to suffer for it."
"Yeah, yeah," Thomas said. "I'm pretty sure I know what Murphy would have to say about that."
"I don't want it to come to that," I said. "Besides, whatever this Word of Kemmler Word of Kemmler is, there are some seriously nasty people after it. It's probably a good idea to make sure they don't get it." is, there are some seriously nasty people after it. It's probably a good idea to make sure they don't get it."
"Right," Thomas said. "So you keep it away from the nasty people so you can give it to the nasty vampire."
"Not if I can help it," I said.
"So Murphy gets burned anyway?" he asked.
I narrowed my eyes. "Not if I can help it."
"How are you going to manage that?"
"I'm working on it," I said. "The first step is to find The Word of Kemmler, The Word of Kemmler, or the whole thing is a bust." or the whole thing is a bust."
"How do you do that?"
"The map," I said. "I don't think these guys are running around working the major black magic for no reason. I need to check out where they've been and figure out what they were doing."
"What about Butters?" Thomas asked.
"For now we keep him behind my wards. I don't know why Grevane wanted him, and until I figure it out he's got to keep his head down."
"I doubt Grevane was looking for a polka afficionado," Thomas said.
"I know. It's got something to do with one of the bodies at the morgue."
"So why not go there?" Thomas asked.
"Because the guard was killed there. There's blood all over the place, maybe the guard's body, and God only knows what Grevane did to the place after we left. The cops will have it locked down hard by now, and they'll definitely want to have a nice long talk with anyone who might have been there. I can't afford to spin my wheels in an interrogation room right now. Neither can Butters."
"So ask Murphy to look around," Thomas said.
I ground my teeth together for a few steps. "I can't. Murphy's on vacation."
"Oh," he said.
"I'm watering her plants."
"Right."
"While she's in Hawaii."
"Uh-huh," he said.
"With Kincaid."
Thomas stopped running.
I didn't.
He caught up to me a hundred yards later. "Well, that's a bitch."
I grunted. "I think she wanted me to tell her not to go," I said. "I think that's why she came to see me."
"So why didn't you?" he asked.
"Didn't realize it until it was too late. Besides, she's not my girlfriend. Or anything. Not my place to tell her who she should see." I shook my head. "Besides...I mean, if it was going to be right with Murphy, it would have been right before now, right? If we got all involved and it didn't work out, it would really screw things up for me. I mean, most of my living comes from jobs for SI."
"That's real reasonable and mature, Harry," Thomas said.
"It's smarter not to try to complicate things."
Thomas frowned at me for a moment. Then he said, "You're serious, aren't you?"
I shrugged. "I guess so. Yeah."
"Little brother," he said, "I simply cannot get over how stupid you are at times."
"Stupid? You just told me it was reasonable."
"Your excuses are," Thomas said, "but love isn't."
"We're not in love!"
"Never gonna be," Thomas said, "if you keep being all logical about it."
"Like you're one to talk."
Thomas's shoes hit the trail a little more sharply. "I know what it's like to lose it. Don't be an idiot, Harry. Don't lose it like I did."
"I can't lose what I haven't ever had."
"You have a chance, chance," he said, a snarl in his words, and I had the sudden sense that he had come precariously close to violent action. "And that's more than I've got."
I didn't push him. We got to the end of the trail and moved off it, slowing to walk down the beach, winding down. "Thomas," I said, "what's wrong with you today, man?"
"I'm hungry," he said, his voice a low growl.
"We can hit a McDonald's or something on the way home," I suggested.
He bared his teeth. "Not that kind of hunger."
"Oh." We walked awhile more, and I said, "But you fed just yesterday."
He laughed, a short and bitter sound. "Fed? No. That woman...that wasn't anything."
"She looked like she'd just run a marathon. You took from her."
"I took." He spat the words. "But there's no substance to it. I didn't take deeply from her. Not from anyone anymore. Not since Justine."
"But food is food, right?" I said.
"No," he said. "It isn't."
"Why?"
"It isn't like that."
"Then what is is it like?" it like?"
"There's no point in telling you," he said.
"Why not?"
"You couldn't understand," he said.
"Not if you don't tell tell me, dolt," I said. "Thomas, I'm your brother. I want to understand you." I stopped and put my hand on his shoulder, shoving him just hard enough to make him turn to face me. "Look, I know it's not working out the way we hoped. But dammit, if you just go storming off every time you get upset about something, if you don't give me the chance to understand you, we're never going to get anywhere." me, dolt," I said. "Thomas, I'm your brother. I want to understand you." I stopped and put my hand on his shoulder, shoving him just hard enough to make him turn to face me. "Look, I know it's not working out the way we hoped. But dammit, if you just go storming off every time you get upset about something, if you don't give me the chance to understand you, we're never going to get anywhere."
He closed his eyes, frustration evident on his face. He started walking down the beach, just at the edge of what passed for surf in Lake Michigan. I kept pace. He walked all the way down the beach, then stopped abruptly and said, "Race me back. Beat me there, and I'll tell you."
I blinked. "What kind of kindergarten crap is that?"