Peace Talks (The Dresden Files, #16)(78)

We didn’t speak. I moved slowly, sluicing warm water over dried-out skin where necessary, and let her soak in the warm water for a while. There was some gentle soap on hand, and after a time, I used that, with just my hands, being as careful as I could to get the area clean without stripping up layers of skin down to the raw new stuff at the bottom in the process.

Karrin watched me at first. After a while, she closed her eyes and just sort of sank back into the tub, her limbs loose. Her hair spread out a little in the water. She looked drawn, gaunt, in the face and neck—and peaceful.

“I love you,” I said.

She opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times. Then she lifted one ear out of the water and said, “What did you say?”

I smiled at her. Then I went back to running my hands gently down her arm, encouraging some of the dead stuff to come off. It would take a few days for her to get back to normal.

“Oh,” she said, studying my face.

Then she sat up in the water, twisted a little toward me, and slid both of her arms around my neck. She pulled my mouth down to hers with a strength that no longer surprised me.

But the sudden, sweet, almost desperate softness of the kiss that followed nearly knocked me into the tub.

And in the middle of it, she breathed, “I love you, too.”





23


We were about halfway to Chateau Raith when Murphy asked, “You seeing this?”

“The Crown Vic behind us?” I asked. “Yeah.”

“Yeah, them,” Murphy said impatiently. “And also the other two cars.”

I frowned. I was driving the Munstermobile, which Murphy hated riding in because the custom-sized seat wasn’t adjustable, and her feet couldn’t reach my pedals. By almost a foot. The old car wasn’t exactly built with the driver’s lines of sight in mind, but I scanned the early-morning traffic, frowning.

It took me a good minute of looking to spot what Murphy had already alerted me to—a dark blue Crown Vic was following about three cars back. Probably Rudolph and Bradley, in one of Internal Affairs’ vehicles. Behind them, maybe three more cars back, was a battered old Jeep that looked like it would have been happier and more comfortable in the Rocky Mountains somewhere. And then there was a third car, a silver minivan, following along a ways behind the Jeep.

“You’re a little popular,” Murphy said.

“Hell’s bells,” I muttered. “Is it a whole surveillance team?”

“They’d be the worst one in the world,” Murphy said. “If they had three of them working together, there’s no reason for all of them to keep us in sight the entire time.”

“Huh,” I said, and watched the cars for a few minutes more. “They aren’t working together. Three different parties tailing us?”

“Rudolph and Bradley are here for me,” Murphy said. “Who are the other two?”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek for a second, thinking. “Um. Well, I suppose I could start driving like a lunatic and find out.”

“In this old death trap?” she asked, and shuddered. “No, thank you. Should we let them follow us?”

“Tough to know that if we don’t know who is back there,” I said. “Rudolph I don’t much care about, but I’d rather not have Bradley stick his head into a noose. He’s just trying to do his job right.”

“Well, you aren’t going to lose a Crown Vic in this boat.”

“True,” I said. “So maybe we do this the other way.”

“Magic?” she asked. “I don’t really feel like walking the rest of the way, either.”

I shook my head. “This old death trap was manufactured damned near a century ago,” I said. “The whole point of driving it is because it can endure exposure to active magical forces and keep going vroom-vroom.” I squinted at the road. “You know. For a while.”

Murphy sighed. “What’s your plan, Harry?”

“We’re going to get out of sight for a second, and then I’m dropping a veil over us,” I said. I thought about it for a second. “We’ll have to stay on the highway. If we pull off to the side, there’s no way I can veil the dust and debris we’d kick up driving on the shoulder.”

“But other cars won’t be able to see us,” Murphy said.

“And we won’t be able to see them very well, either,” I said. “Be like driving in heavy rain.”

She grimaced, clearly unhappy at the entire situation. “And we’re riding in a brick with no handling.”

“A brick that’s heavier than a lot of the trucks on this highway right now,” I said, “and made from all steel. Might not handle or accelerate like a modern car, but it’s not made of drywall and cardboard, either.”

Murphy gave me an impatient look. “Harry, do you even understand that modern engineering means that the lighter cars are actually considerably safer than cars like this one?”

“Not when they hit cars like this one,” I noted.

“Yes, they’re not meant to take dinosaurs into consideration,” she growled.

“Exit coming up,” I said. “Here we go.”

I cut into the right-hand lane and accelerated smoothly and without noticeable effort from the old car. Between my old mechanic Mike and the tinker elves Mab had on call for maintenance and repairs, the Munstermobile purred like a three-thousand-pound kitten.