Skin Game (The Dresden Files 15) - Page 94

“Cool,” I said, and offered her my closed fist.

She shook her head and said, “Not very respectful of you, sir Knight.”

I waggled my fist and said, “Come on. You know you want it.”

That drew a quick, merry laugh from her. She bumped my fist with hers, and turned away—and as she walked away from me, I saw her pull a cell phone out of her pocket and turn it on.

That stopped me in my tracks.

Cell phones were some of the technology that was absolutely the most sensitive to the unbalanced fields of energy around a mortal wizard. When one of us got near a powered-up cell phone, it was likely to kick the bucket right there.

Inhuman practitioners, on the other hand, had no problem with that effect whatsoever.

And I suddenly felt very afraid for Molly.

She was hiding a lot of things from her parents. And now I had to wonder how many things she might be hiding from me.

More things to keep an eye on in the future.

I traded a greeting with Rawlins and walked into Karrin’s room, to find Butters sitting in the chair by her bed, his feet on the seat, his butt on the back, waving his hands animatedly as he spoke. “. . . and I looked at him and said, ‘Mister, where I come from there is no try.’ And I went straight at him, and the evil son of a bitch bailed.”

Karrin looked like she’d been beaten with rubber hoses after a double triathlon, but she was sitting up, and if she looked a little bleary, she also looked composed. One of her arms had been wrapped up and immobilized in a sling fixed to her body. Her hair was a lank mess, and she had an IV line running to her unwounded arm. “You are telling me lie after lie, Waldo Butters,” she said. She turned to me and her smile widened. “Hey, Harry. You look terrible.”

“I’m in good company,” I said, and put my hand on her head for a second, grinning.

“Tell her,” Butters said. “Harry, you were there, right? Tell her.” He blinked. “Oh, God, you were pretty out of it. Don’t tell me you don’t remember.”

“I remember,” I said. “Butters went full-on Jedi Knight on us. Sword. Vomm. Vroom, krsoom, kazark, skreeow.”

Karrin gave me a suspicious glance, and looked back and forth between us. “You can’t be serious.”

“Got it with you?” I asked Butters.

“Are you kidding?” he said, grinning. “I may never put it down again.”

“So show her,” I said.

“You think that’s . . . you know. Okay? To show it off like that?”

“You aren’t showing off,” I said. “You’re confirming her faith.”

Butters screwed up his face and then said, “Yeah. I guess that’s okay, then.” He reached into his coat and produced the hilt of Fidelacchius. The moment he drew it from his coat, the blade of light hissed out to its full length, banishing shadows from the room and humming with power.

Karrin’s eyes widened. “Mary, Mother of God,” she said. “And . . . he just ran?”

“Not right away,” I said. “He took a swing at Butters here, first. And that thing sliced through Nick’s sword like it was made of pasta.”

“Yeah,” Butters said. “Seemed to catch him totally off guard. And even if he’d still had a sword, I don’t think it would have helped him much. I mean, lightsaber. Actually, it was kinda unfair.”

“That guy’s earned it,” I said.

“Butters,” Karrin said, shaking her head. “That’s . . . that’s really amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

If Butters could have floated up off the floor, Karrin’s words would have made him do so. “Yeah, I . . . Thanks, Murph.”

Murph.

Well, look at you, Butters. One of the boys.

“Well deserved,” she said. “But . . .” Her face turned grim. “You don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, you know.”

Butters frowned and moved to return the handle to his coat. The blade vanished seemingly of its own accord. “Why wouldn’t I keep it?”

“Lot of responsibility, bearing one of those,” Karrin said.

“Lot of travel, too,” I said, just as seriously.

“Bad guys,” Karrin noted.

“Hopeless situations you’ll be expected to overcome,” I said.

“Monsters, ghosts, ghouls, vampires,” Karrin said.

“And all the Knights of the Blackened Denarius will want to stuff you and mount you on the wall,” I said, my voice harder. “Butters, you took Nicodemus by surprise on what was probably the worst day he’s had in a couple of thousand years, when his only backup was a woman twisty enough to marry him, who had spent the past two days trying to derail his plans. He retreated because he was facing a new and unknown threat and it was the smart thing to do. Next time you see him, he won’t be running away. He’ll be planning to kill you.”

Butters looked at me uncertainly. “Do . . . do you guys not think I can do it?”

I stared at him, expression suitably grave. Karrin too.

“Michael and Charity said they’d train me,” he said seriously. “And Michael said he’d show me how to work out and eat right and help me figure out what the Sword can do. I mean . . . I know I’m just a little guy but”—he took a deep breath—“I can do something. Make a difference. Help people. That’s a chance a lot of people never get. I want it.”

Karrin glanced at me and asked, “What do you think?”

I winked at her, and we both grinned as I said, “He’ll do. I mean, he routed Nicodemus Archleone and all. I guess that’s something.”

“Yeah,” Karrin said. “That’s something.”

Butters grinned in relief. “Oh,” he said. “There is one thing I . . . I sort of have an issue with.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

He spread his hands and said, “A Jewish Knight of the Cross?”

Karrin burst out into something suspiciously like giggles. Later, she would swear that it had been the drugs.

* * *

Butters left Karrin and me alone a little while later. We had a few minutes until some polite nurse would be along to kick me out.

“You’re going to have to take care of yourself,” Karrin said quietly. “Over the next few weeks. Rest. Give yourself a chance to heal. Keep the wound on your leg clean. Get to a doctor and get that arm into a proper cast. I know you can’t feel it, but it’s important that—”

I stood, leaned over the bed, and kissed her on the mouth.

Her words dissolved into a soft sound that vibrated against my lips. Then her good arm slid around my neck, and there wasn’t any sound at all. It was a long kiss. A slow one. A good one. I didn’t draw away until it came to its end. I didn’t open my eyes for a moment after.

“. . . oh . . . ,” she said in a small voice. Her hand slid down my arm to lie upon mine.

“We do crazy things for love,” I said quietly, and turned my hand over, fingers curling around hers.

She swallowed. Her cheeks were flushed with color. She lowered her eyes.

“I want you to rest and get better, too,” I said. “We have some things to do.”

“Like what?” she asked.

I felt myself smile. There might have been something merrily wolfish in it. “Things I’ve only dreamed about.”

“Oh,” she breathed. Her blue eyes glittered. “That.” She tilted her head. “That was . . . was me?”

“That was you,” I said. “Seems fair. It was your bed.”

Her hand tightened on mine and her face broke into an open grin. I lifted her hand and kissed her fingers, one at a time.

“I am on so many drugs right now,” she said.

I grinned. She wasn’t really talking about her IV.

The nurse came in while we were kissing again. She cleared her throat pointedly. Two or three times. I let her. The kiss wasn’t fin

ished yet. The nurse went out in the hallway to complain to Rawlins, who appeared to listen politely.

Karrin ended the kiss with another little laugh.

Tags: Jim Butcher The Dresden Files Suspense
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