Cold Days (The Dresden Files 14)

"And it's got nothing to do with facing Maggie," Thomas said.

I looked away, out at the grey water of the lake.

Fix knew that Maggie existed. If he wanted to hurt me . . .

"She's with Michael because he's got an NFL lineup of angels protecting his house and family," I said. "And Supermutt, too. Am I going to be able to provide a real home for her, man? An education? A real life? What's her college application going to look like: 'Raised on Spooky Island by wizard with GED, please help'?" I shook my head. "And when the fallout from the White Council about Molly and about this place starts hitting, it's going to be a nightmare. I might as well have a target tattooed on her forehead as keep her near me."

"Michael is awesome," Thomas said. "Hell, I wish he'd raised me. But he isn't her dad."

"I had sex with her mother," I said. "That's not the same as being her father."

Thomas shook his head. "You'd be a good dad, Harry. You'd spoil her and you'd indulge her, and you'd embarrass her in front of her friends, but you'd do right by her."

"This is me," I said. "Doing right by her. For now. Maybe someday things could change."

Thomas eyed me. Then he shook his head and said, "Kids change. Into adults. Way faster than it seems like they should. Don't take too long deciding how much change is enough."

Hell, he was right about that much, at least. I sighed and nodded slowly. "I'll keep it in mind."

"I know," he said, and smiled at me. "Because I'm not going to shut up about it."

I rolled my eyes and nodded. "Good. Don't."

I offered my fist for bumping.

Thomas ignored me and gave me a rib-cracking hug, which I returned.

"Glad you're back," he whispered. "Loser."

"You gonna start crying now, wuss?" I said back.

"See you in a few days," he said. "We'll get the cottage finished off. Make it someplace Maggie won't need to learn shape-shifting to survive in."

"Just don't forget the books," I said. "Or the pizza for the guard."

"Won't." He let go of me and hopped up onto the Water Beetle. "Any messages?"

"Molly," I said. "When she gets back, ask her to send Toot and Lacuna to me. And . . . tell her that when she's ready to talk, I'm here."

Thomas nodded, untied the last line, and tossed it to me. I caught it and started coiling it. Thomas climbed up onto the bridge and took the ship out, chugging away at the sedate pace he would use until he cleared the stone reefs around Demonreach.

Karrin came out of the cabin and stood on the deck. Mouse came with her, looking solemn. She leaned back against the cabin's wall and watched me as she went.

I watched, too, until I couldn't see her anymore.

Thunder rumbled over Lake Michigan, unusual in November.

I settled the new black leather duster over my shoulders, picked up the long, rough branch I'd cut from the island's oldest oak tree a few hours before, and started back up the hill, toward the former lighthouse and future cottage. I had preparations to make.

There was a storm coming in.