“Morgan,” I said quietly. “You are a guest in my home.”
He flashed me a quick, guilty glance.
“You came to me for help and I’m doing my best. Hell, the kid has put herself into harm’s way, trying to protect you. I’ve done everything for you that I would have for blood family, because you are my guest. There are monsters from whom I would expect better behavior, once they had accepted my hospitality. What’s more, they’d give it to me.”
Morgan let out a pained sound. Then he turned his head sharply away from Molly and dropped the sword at the same time. The steel of the blade chimed as it bounced off the thin rug.
Morgan settled into a limp heap on the floor, and Molly sagged, lifting her hand and covering the vulnerable skin of her throat for a moment.
I waited until Anastasia sat up to toss her the towel I’d brought from the kitchen. She caught it, her expression neutral, and lifted it to begin drying her neck. Mouse is a great dog, but he has to work hard to control his slobber issues.
“So I take it things almost devolved into violence again,” I said to them. “And Mouse had to get involved.”
“She just came walking in here,” Molly protested. “She saw him.”
I blinked and looked at her. “And you did . . . what, exactly?”
“She blinded me,” Anastasia said calmly. “And then she hit me.” She lifted the towel and wiped at her nose. Some blood came away, though most of it stayed crusted and brown below one nostril. So they hadn’t been in the standoff for long. Anastasia gave Molly a steady gaze and said, “She hit me like a girl. For goodness’ sake, child, have you had no combat training at all?”
“There’s been a lot of material to cover,” I growled. “Blinded you?”
“Not permanently,” Molly said, more sullenly now. She rubbed at the knuckles of her right hand with her left. “I just . . . kind of veiled everything that wasn’t her.”
“An unnecessarily complicated way to go about it,” Anastasia said primly.
“For you, maybe,” Molly said defensively. “Besides, who was the one on the ground getting pounded?”
“Yes. You’re forty pounds heavier than me,” Anastasia said calmly.
“Bitch, I know you didn’t say just say that,” Molly bristled, stepping forward with her hands clenched.
Mouse sighed and heaved himself back to his feet.
Molly stopped, eyeing the big dog warily.
“Good dog,” I said, and scratched Mouse’s ears.
He wagged his tail without taking his serious brown eyes from Molly.
“I had to stop her,” Molly said. “She was going to report Morgan to the Wardens.”
“So you physically and magically assaulted her,” I said.
“What choice did I have?”
I eyed Morgan. “And you staggered up out of the bed you’re supposed to be staying in, grabbed the first pointy thing you could reach, and forced her off of Anastasia.”
Morgan eyed me wearily. “Obviously.”
I sighed and looked at Anastasia. “And you thought the only solution you had was to take them both down and sort everything out later, and Mouse stopped you.”
Anastasia sighed. “There was a blade out, Harry. The situation had to be controlled.”
I eyed Mouse. “And you wound up holding Anastasia hostage so Morgan wouldn’t hurt Molly.”
Mouse ducked his head.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” I said. “So think real careful about where this is coming from. Have you people ever considered talking when you’ve got a problem?”
That didn’t please anybody, and they gave me looks with varying degrees of irritation mixed with chagrin.
Except for Mouse, who sighed and said something like, “Uh-woof.”
“Sorry,” I told him at once. “Four-footed nonvocalizing company excepted.”
“She was going to get the Wardens,” Molly said. “If that happened before we proved who really killed LaFortier, all of us would be up the creek.”
“Actually,” Anastasia said, “that’s true.”
I turned my gaze to her. She rose and stretched, wincing slightly. “I assumed,” she said quietly, “that Morgan had recruited your apprentice to assist him in his escape scheme. And that they had done away with you.”
I made a small frustrated sound. “Why the hell would you assume something like that?”
She narrowed her eyes as she stared at me. “Why would Morgan flee to the home of the one wizard in the Council who had the most reason to dislike him?” she asked. “I believe your words were: ‘that would be crazy.’ ”
I winced. Ouch. “Uh,” I said. “Yeah. I . . .”
“You lied to me,” she said in a level tone. Most people probably wouldn’t have noticed the undertone of anger and pain in her voice, or the almost imperceptible pause between each word. I could see bricks being mortared into place behind her eyes and I looked away from her.
The room was completely silent, until Morgan said, in a small and broken voice, “What?”
I looked up at him. His hard sour face had gone gray. His expression was twisted up in shock and surprise, like that of a small child discovering the painful consequences of gravity for the first time.
“Ana,” he said, almost choking on the words. “You . . . you think that I . . . How could you think that I would . . . ?”
He turned his face away. It couldn’t have been a tear. Not from Morgan. He wouldn’t shed tears if he had to execute his own mother.
But for a fraction of a second, something shone on one of his cheeks.
Anastasia rose and walked over to Morgan. She knelt down by him and put her hand on his head. “Donald,” she said gently, “we’ve been betrayed by those we trusted before. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“That was them,” he said unsteadily, not looking up. “This is me.”
She stroked his hair once. “I never thought you had done it of your own free will, Donald,” she whispered quietly. “I thought someone had gotten into your mind. Held a hostage against your cooperation. Something.”
“Who could they have held hostage?” Morgan said in a bitter voice. “There’s no one. For that very reason. And you know it.”
She sighed and closed her eyes.
“You knew his wards,” Morgan went on. “You’ve been through them before. Often. You opened them in under a second when you came in. You have a key to his apartment.”
She said nothing.
His voice turned heavy and hollow. “You’re involved. With Dresden.”
Anastasia blinked her eyes several times. “Donald,” she began.
He looked up at her, his eyes empty of tears or pain or anything but weariness. “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t you dare.”
She met his eyes. I’d never seen such gentle pain on her face. “You’re running a fever. Donald, please. You should be in bed.”
He laid his head on the rug and closed his eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Donald—”
“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated dully.
Anastasia started crying in silence. She stayed next to Morgan, stroking her hand over his mottled silver-and-brown hair.
An hour later, Morgan was unconscious in bed again. Molly was down in the lab, pretending to work on potions with the trapdoor closed. I was sitting in the same spot with an empty can of Coke.
Anastasia came out of the bedroom and shut the door silently behind her. Then she leaned back against it. “When I saw him,” she said, “I thought he had come here to hurt you. That he had learned about the two of us and wanted to hurt you.”