Peace Talks (The Dresden Files, #16)(86)

I returned the look with as much of a poker face as I could, and we both looked elsewhere at the same moment, as if we’d planned it. I clenched my jaw. Jerk. I couldn’t think of a time when I hadn’t wanted to punch the guy right in his strong-jawed mouth.

I briefly toyed with the image of Marcone, with several missing teeth, reclining in a dentist’s chair for repair work while Gard and Hendricks menaced the poor DDS with their glowers, and it made me smile. There. Who says I can’t put on a proper party face? I knew the outfit had doctors. Did they also have dentists?

If any underworld boss in the world had a dental plan for his employees, it would be Marcone.

Which reminded me, I should probably be looking into a checkup for Maggie before she went to her new school in the fall, and—No, wait. Focus, Dresden. Survive the evening now; plan Maggie’s dental appointments later.

So I plunged into the party. I exchanged brief words with River Shoulders as he spoke to Evanna. Across from Winter’s blue and purple silks were Summer’s golden and green colors, and I stepped up to the edge of their camp to trade nods with the Summer Lady, Sarissa, and a firm handshake with Fix, the Summer Knight, my opposite number on that side of things and a decent guy, all while being eyed by the Summer Sidhe security detachment they had with them.

I walked past the LaChaise clan and received several dark glares, which I returned with interest. I’m not particularly tolerant on the subject of ghouls, due to the fact that I’d seen them eat some kids I’d been teaching during the war with the now-deceased Red Court. Their particular clan hadn’t been all that easy on people living in the Mississippi delta region, either, and I’d butted heads with them on side cases in the past. Some of LaChaise’s people looked like they wanted to start a fight, but a few glances toward Mab’s still-empty black chair in Winter’s camp seemed to make them think better of it.

I’d be fine with fighting them, if they wanted to start things. I’m not saying that the only good ghoul was a dead ghoul, but I’d never met one that made me think otherwise, and I’d seen too many corpses they’d made to let it bother me. But as long as they respected the truce, they were guests and under the protection of their host. Maybe I could hope for some kind of misunderstanding later on, when the talks were done and everyone was heading home.

There were actually a few folks dancing in the center of the floor, in the open space around the speaker’s podium. Evanna and River Shoulders made a particularly odd couple, with River holding the svartalf lady completely off the ground, with one hand, while walking through the steps of a cautious, stately waltz.

Freydis absolutely slinked up to me, looking fabulous in her white and silver dress. Granted, most ladies wouldn’t have had quite so many fine old scars to show off as she did, but they only lent her a dangerously sexy aura. The red-haired Valkyrie gave me a dazzling smile, ran her hand over my arm, and said, “Hey there, seidrmadr. Who’s a girl gotta stab to get a dance around here?”

I smiled and said, very quietly, “Mab’s not even here yet.”

Freydis ignored my concern and sidled close to me, sliding her left hand up to my shoulder and taking my left hand with her right. “Oh no. You have to dance with a stunning woman for a few extra moments. Whatever will you do, poor bastard?”

Well. She had a point there. So I lifted my arm, put a hand on her waist, and stepped into a simple waltz.

Freydis hadn’t waltzed before, but she picked it up fast and within a minute was flowing gracefully through the steps with me. She squeezed my left hand and asked, “The scars. Burns?”

“Black Court vampire had an office building in a psychic armlock,” I said. “One of her Renfields had a makeshift flamethrower.”

“Just the hand? Or does it go all the way up?”

“To the wrist, on the front,” I said. “Less on the back. I was holding up a shield with that hand.”

“You killed them, I take it?”

“Why would you say that?”

“In my experience, burns make mortals rather vengeful.”

“It’s … a long story,” I said. “Vamp got away. Mavra.”

“Ah, that one,” Freydis said. “She’s earned a bit of a reputation over the years.”

“Oh?”

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this for free, but I adore dancing, I rarely get the chance, and my boss likes you,” Freydis said.

I stopped to glance over at Vadderung in his chair. Once more he was seated across from Ferrovax-and the two were regarding each other steadily.

“He seems like the kind of guy who would tell you to say something like that when he asked you to pass on some information to me,” I said.

Her green eyes flashed with appreciation. “Oh. You just went from a three to a six, seidermadr. I like men who look past the surface of things. And you can dance.”

“Lucky me,” I said. “So?”

“So if you get me drunk enough, and no one else more interesting turns up, I could show you all kinds of interesting scars. Bring your woman and we can skip some of the drinking.”

That made my cheeks feel warm. “Um. I meant Mavra,” I said.

“Just that we last spotted her movements about a year ago,” Freydis said, unperturbed at the change of subject. “If you were counting on her never coming back, you might need to go over your numbers again.”