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Some things just aren’t meant to go together. Things like oil and water. Orange juice and toothpaste. Wizards and television.
“You okay?” “I’ve been in house fires I liked better than this.”
There was more laughter and a few catcalls from the crowd. Passages from Carrie and Firestarter sprang to mind, but I restrained myself and maintained the suppression spell. Master of self-discipline, that’s me. But I gave the fire door beside the stage another longing look.
Good evening, Mister Dresden. Come in, all of you.” “Father,” I answered. “You look like my day so far.”
Sanya’s expression became surprised. “You are not a religious man, then.” “I wouldn’t burden any decent system of faith by participating in it.”
My stomach went berserk at the sight of the sandwiches. Heavy exertion coupled with insane fear does that to me.
What do you know about him?” “Not much. Presumably he’s tough.” Bob’s eyelights stared at me for a minute. “Well, Napoléon, I’m sure he’ll never overcome that kind of tactical genius.”
I talked through a yawn. “Nah, it can wait. Thanks for the call, Butters.” “No trouble,” he said. “Sleep is god. Go worship.”
“Hi,” she said. “Hi.” “You know, it’s hard to tell through the door, but your eyes look sunken and bloodshot. Did you sleep last night?” “What is this thing you speak of, ‘sleep’?”
My mouth kept running without checking in with my brain. My heart maybe, but not my brain.
There are things you can’t walk away from. Not if you want to live with yourself afterward.
Change. Maybe that’s what this was really about. Susan had changed. She’d grown. She was more relaxed than I remembered, more confident. There had always been a sense of purpose to her, but now it seemed deeper, somehow. She’d found a place for herself, somewhere where she felt she could do some good. Maybe I should have gone with her after all.
Mickey Mouse woke me up, my alarm jangling noisily, his little hand on two and the big hand on twelve. I wanted to smack the clock for waking me up, but I reined in the impulse. I’m not against a little creative violence now and then, but you have to draw the line somewhere. I wouldn’t sleep in the same room with a person who would smack Mickey Mouse.
“Internet,” she said sagely. “Expanding the frontiers of adolescent knowledge.”
Shiro smiled. “Fighting is never good. But sometimes necessary.” I blew out a deep breath. “Yeah. I guess I know what you mean.”
“Life would be unbearably dull if we had answers to all our questions.”
“I guess you were a psychoanalyst before you were a sword-swinging vigilante against evil.”
I am just another blind man. I do not get the whole picture of what transpires in all places. I am blind and limited. I would be a fool to think myself wise. And so, not knowing what the universe means, I can only try to be responsible with the knowledge, the strength, and the time given to me. I must be true to my heart.”
I caught a glimpse of myself in a polished brass column. I didn’t look half-bad. There’s a reason the tux has weathered a century virtually unchanged. You don’t fix what isn’t broken. Tuxedos make anyone look good, and I was a living testament to it.
“What a charmer you are,” Susan murmured. I grunted. “Such diplomacy.” “Me and Kissinger.”
We went up a flight of stairs and Susan opened a door on a pair of gorillas in red security blazers. They tried to stop us. Susan threw a right and a left cross, and we walked over them on our way out. I kind of felt bad for them. Getting punched out by a dame was not going to pad their goon résumés.
“You’re afraid of me,” I said. “Boy, you’ve destroyed three rival practitioners of the Arts, a noble of the vampire Courts, and even one of the Faerie Queens. They underestimated you as well as your allies. I don’t. I suppose you could think of your current position as a compliment.”
The Blue Beetle was still in the nearby lot, and it hadn’t been stolen, vaporized, or otherwise mishandled.
“I thought the whole point of the Knights was to deal out justice,” I said. “The Fists of God and all that. So why is it that Nicodemus can slaughter them wholesale?” “For much the same reason any man can kill another,” Forthill said. “He is intelligent. Cautious. Skilled. Ruthless. Like his patron fallen angel.” I guessed at the name. “Badassiel?”
The blood on their hands does not make it right to bloody my own. My choices are measured against my own soul. Not against the stains on theirs.”
I’m only human. I’d flirted with dark powers before. Made stupid deals. Bad choices. I’d been given a chance to work free of them, or I’d have been dead long ago.
“Leave it to me,” I said. “You’ve already got something on your plate. I can handle things. I’ll meet you at the airport afterward and help you find Shiro.” “If you live,” Sanya said. “Yes. Thank you, Comrade Obvious.” The Russian grinned. “Was that a quarter you gave Cassius?” “Yeah.” “For the phone?” “Yeah.” Michael noted, “Phone calls cost more than that now.” I slouched back and allowed myself a small smile. “Yeah. I know.” Sanya and Michael burst out laughing. Michael pounded on the steering wheel. I didn’t join them, but I enjoyed their laughter while I could. The February sun was
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Murphy let out a harsh little laugh. “There are times when you can be a clever man, Harry. It takes me by surprise.” “Why, thank you.” “What else can I do?”
“Apocalypse is a frame of mind,” he said then. “A belief. A surrender to inevitability. It is despair for the future. It is the death of hope.”
“My faith protects me. My Kevlar helps.”
“I’m dealing with a lot of scary things,” she said. “I think you have to react to them. And you either laugh at them or you go insane.
Marcone was still a black hat. The pain and suffering of the criminal state he ruled accounted for an untold amount of human misery. Maybe he’d been doing it for a noble reason. I could understand that. But it didn’t change anything. Marcone’s good intentions could have paved a new lane on the road to hell. But dammit, I couldn’t hate him anymore. I couldn’t hate him because I wasn’t sure that I wouldn’t have made the same choice in his place. Hate was simpler, but the world ain’t a simple place. It would have been easier to hate Marcone. I just couldn’t do it.
It isn’t good to hold on too hard to the past. You can’t spend your whole life looking back. Not even when you can’t see what lies ahead. All you can do is keep on keeping on, and try to believe that tomorrow will be what it should be—even if it isn’t what you expected.
