“If I am to call you Dresden, it is only fair that you should call me Archleone.”

“Archleone?” I asked. “As in ‘seeking whom he may devour’? Kinda pretentious, isn’t it?”

For half of a second, the smile turned into something almost genuine. “For a godless heathen, you are entirely too familiar with scripture. You know that I can kill you, do you not?”

“We’d make a mess,” I said. “And who knows? I might get lucky.”

Really, really, really lucky.

Nicodemus moved a hand in acknowledgment. “But barring luck.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“And you offer such insouciance regardless?”

“Habit,” I said. “It doesn’t make you special or anything, believe me.”

“Oh, I picked the right coin for you.” He started to walk in a slow circle around me, the way you might a car at the dealership. “There are rumors that a certain Warden has been flinging Hellfire at his foes. How do you like it?”

“I’d like it better if it came in Pine Fresh and New Car instead of only Rotting Egg,” I said.

Nicodemus completed his circuit of me and arched an eyebrow. “You haven’t taken up the coin.”

“I would, but it’s in my piggybank,” I said, “and I can’t break the piggy, obviously. He’s too cute.”

“Lasciel’s shadow must be slipping,” Nicodemus said, shaking his head. “It has had years to reason with you, and still you refuse our gifts.”

“What with the curly little tail and the big, sad brown eyes,” I said, as if he hadn’t said anything.

One of his heels hit the ground with unnecessary force, and he stopped walking. He inhaled through his nose and out again. “Definitely the proper coin for you.” He folded his hands carefully behind his back. “Dresden, you have a skewed image of us. We were operating at cross-purposes the first time we met, and you probably learned everything you know about us from Carpenter and his cohorts. The Church has always had excellent propaganda.”

“Actually, the murder, torture, and destruction you and your people perpetrated spoke pretty loudly all by themselves.”

Nicodemus rolled his eyes. “Dresden, please. You have done all of those things at one time or another. Poor Cassius told me all about what you did to him in the hotel room.”

“Gosh,” I said, grinning. “If someone had walked in on us in the middle of that sentence, would my face be red or what?”

He stared at me for a second, and the emotion and expression drained out of his features like dewdrops vanishing under a desert sunrise. What was left behind was little more than desolation. “Harry Dresden,” he said, so softly that I could barely make it out. “I admire your defiance of greater powers than your own. I always have. But tempus fugit. For all of us.”

I blinked.

For all of us? What the hell did he mean by that?

“Have you not seen the signs around you?” Nicodemus asked. “Beings acting against their natures? Creatures behaving in ways that they should not? The old conventions and customs being cast aside?”