Peace Talks (The Dresden Files, #16)(88)

“For that, I shall hardly need to invoke a dramatic muse,” Mab murmured. But she thrust her chin toward the door Lara had just departed through and then turned her wide dark eyes back to mine. “This is a public pantomime. You play for high stakes.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Do not bring me embarrassment with your failure.”

“No, my queen,” I said, loud enough for the room to hear. I stepped back from her and bowed deeply at the waist, before putting on an expression that I assumed looked angry and chagrined, and hurrying after Lara.

“What good is it going to do us to get into the gym?” Lara asked. “I’ve seen it. There’s no way down to the holding cell from there.”

Murphy smirked. “Like I said. You visited the place a few times. I lived there. Especially in the gym.”

One of Marcone’s people in the red jackets looked like he might disagree with me going up the stairs to the gym, but I pacified him with upraised hands and said, “I need to sort this out or my boss is gonna kill me. Just give me a minute.”

It was one of the same guys from the night before. The guard looked from me over toward Marcone’s camp. Marcone didn’t look up from his conversation, but Hendricks, at his right hand, gave the guard a nod.

The guard stepped back with a grimace and said, “Watch that Freydis, man. She’ll gut you as soon as look at you.”

“Spoken like a three,” I said. He looked confused. I kept moving.

I came up the stairs to the soft sounds of Freydis’s sobs. Lara was standing by the nearest corner of the boxing ring with her arms around the Valkyrie’s shoulders. I checked the stairs behind me to be sure that they were empty, closed the door, and said, “Clear.”

“Od’s blood, I should have been an actress,” Freydis said in a pleased voice, standing clear of Lara.

“Well. The Einherjaren weren’t buying it,” I said. “Everyone knows you’re up to something.”

Lara smirked at me. Vampiric allure completely aside, the woman had a smirk that was to die for, and her little black dress was stylish and stunning. She flexed her hands like claws and said, “Getting my hooks into Mab’s Knight, of course.”

“Obviously,” I said. I started for the back of the room, where the towels were stacked on a shelf, ready to be used. I shrugged out of my suit coat and vest as I went, and then out of the shoes, pants, and shirt, until I was left in just boxer briefs, an undershirt, and socks. It was necessary.

“I still believe this is a serious breach of security planning,” Lara complained as she lifted her dress over her head and tossed it on a bench. She added her shoes, more carefully, and was wearing nothing else. Excellently. I averted my eyes.

“You don’t know Einherjaren,” Freydis insisted in a firm tone. “Once they get it in their heads that something needs to be one way, that’s it. That’s how it needs to be.”

Lara sounded as if she was speaking with her nose wrinkled up. “Still. An old privy shaft?”

“Once they realized they could use it to drop their towels right next to the laundry room in the basement, instead of carrying them down in hampers, there was no stopping it,” Freydis said. “They just knocked holes in the wall with the dumbbells and started dropping towels down the shaft. Marcone had to give in with grace and installed dumbwaiter doors.”

I went to said door, flipped a latch, and opened it. It rolled up smoothly to reveal a shaft that began overhead and led straight down into the darkness. It was not excessively large.

There was an incredibly wonderful smell, flowers and cinnamon and something darker and sweeter, and then Lara was standing next to me, her bare shoulder against my elbow. My elbow approved, ecstatically—but Lara jumped and let out a little truncated sound of discomfort.

She glanced down at her shoulder, where a patch the shape, I guess, of the end of my elbow was turning red, as though she’d brushed it against a hot pan.

Vampires of the White Court had a severe allergy to sincere love, the way the Black Court doesn’t like sunbathing. Skin-to-skin contact with people who love and who are loved in return is hardest of all on the White Court.

Which meant that …

Oh.

Well. I hadn’t been thinking about having that aura of protection around me when Karrin and I got busy, but it was nice to have it.

And it was nice to know it was real. Very nice.

“Ouch,” Lara said, her tone annoyed. Then she glanced up at me and her expression became suddenly pleased. “Oh. You and the policewoman? Congratulations, wizard.”

“My relationships are none of your beeswax,” I responded in a grumpy tone.

Lara nodded at the old privy shaft. “We’re both about to crawl down that together, so I’d say I have a minor need to know if I’m going to receive second-and third-degree burns for bumping into you.” She regarded the space gravely. “Small. Are you going to fit?”

“Stop setting me up for dirty jokes,” I complained. “I’ll manage. Are you sure you can handle the guard?”

Lara turned her head slightly toward me, her eyes down, and caught her lip between her teeth, before slowly looking up at me. Suddenly the light fled from the room, except where it touched the pale perfection of her skin.

I just about started howling and pounding my chest, I suddenly wanted her so badly. It took me a good long breath to get control of myself and force myself to avert my eyes.