“There wasn’t time for a good one.”

He grunted. “November is not a good time to be sailing on Lake Michigan, Harry.”

“The aftermath of a nuclear holocaust isn’t a good time to be sailing there, either.”

Thomas frowned. “You aren’t just running your mouth, here, are you? You’re serious?”

“It’s a worst-case scenario,” I said. “But Nicodemus could do it, so we’ve got to proceed under the presumption that his intentions are in that category. The Denarians want to disrupt civilization, and with the Archive under their control, they could do it. Maybe they’d use biological or chemical weapons instead. Maybe they’d crash the world economy. Maybe they’d turn every program on television into one of those reality shows.”

“That’s mostly done already, Harry.”

“Oh. Well. I’ve got to believe that the world is worth saving anyway.” We traded forced grins. “Regardless of what they do, the potential for Really Bad Things is just too damned high to ignore, and we need all the help we can get.”

“Even help from one of those dastardly White Court fiends?” Thomas asked.

“Exactly.”

“Good. I was getting tired of dodging Luccio. There’s a limited amount of help I can give you if I have to stay out of sight all the time.”

“It’s necessary. If the Council knew that you and I were related…”

“I know, I know,” Thomas said, scowling. “Outcast leper unclean.”

I sighed and shook my head. Given that the White Court’s modus operandi generally consisted of twisting people’s minds around in one of several ways, I didn’t dare let anyone on the Council know that Thomas was my friend, let alone my half brother. Everyone would immediately assume the worst—that the White Court had gotten to me and was controlling my head through Thomas. And even if I convinced them that it wasn’t the case, it would look suspicious as hell. The Council would demand I demonstrate loyalty, attempt to use Thomas as a spy against the White Court, and in general behave like the pompous, overbearing assholes that they are.

It wasn’t easy for either of us to live with—but it wasn’t going to change, either.

We got to my apartment and I rushed inside. It was cold. The fire had burned down to nothing in the time I’d been gone. I lifted my hand and murmured under my breath, the spell lighting half a dozen candles at the same time. I grabbed everything I was going to need, waved the candles out again, and hurried back out to Thomas’s car.

“You’ve got Mom’s pentacle with you, right?” I asked him. I had a matching pendant on a silver chain around my own neck—which, other than Thomas, was my mother’s only tangible legacy.

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll find you. Where now?”

“St. Mary’s,” I said.

“Figured.”

Thomas started driving. I broke open my double-barreled shotgun, which I’d sawed down to an illegal length, and loaded two shells into it. Tessa the Mantis Girl had rudely neglected to return my.44 after the conclusion of hostilities at the Aquarium, and I have rarely regretted taking a gun with me into what could prove to be a hairy situation.