Cold Days
Page 132
I opened it by tearing paper and snapping string, and a long leather garment unrolled.
"Dunh nuh nah nah nunh," Molly sang, singing the opening riff from "Bad to the Bone."
I found myself smiling and held up a long coat of heavy black leather, like one of those old cowboy dusters, except for the long mantle hanging down over its shoulders. It smelled like new leather and shone without a scuff mark to be seen. "Where the hell did you find an Inverness coat?" I asked her.
"Internet," she said. "Security Guy helped me shop for it."
"You don't know his name?" I asked.
"His name is Guy, and he's building security," Molly said. "Security Guy."
"And he did this for you why?" I asked.
"Because I'm pretty and because he might have gotten a gift certificate out of the deal."
"Remind me to never give you one of my credit cards," I said, and I put the coat on.
The weight of the leather settling around me was familiar and comforting, but this coat wasn't the same as my old coat. The sleeves were a little longer, and fit better. The shoulders were a little narrower, and actually matched up with mine. The mantle hung down a bit more. The pockets were in a slightly different place. Most significantly, it didn't have the layers of protective enchantments that took about half a working week to lay down.
But . . .
Yeah, I decided. I could get used to it.
I looked up to see my apprentice grinning widely.
I put my hand on her shoulder for a moment, smiled, and said, "Thanks, Molls."
Her eyes shone.
Mouse piled out of the car and hurried over to sniff the coat, tail wagging.
"What do you think?" I asked him.
"Woof," he said seriously.
"He thinks it suits you," Molly said, smiling.
"Goofy motorcycle cowboy meets Scotland Yard?"
Mouse wagged his tail.
I grunted as Karrin pulled in and parked her Harley far down the row from the Munstermobile, in a motorcycle parking space. She eyed me as she came walking up to us, then Molly, and gave her an approving nod. "That's more like it," she said.
"Feels good," I said. I nodded toward the water, where the Water Beetle was chugging slowly back into its berth. Thomas was at the wheel, maneuvering the tub deftly. I waved at him and he replied with a thumbs-up gesture. The boat was ready to go.
I turned to speak to the others, but before I could, I felt my concentration disrupted. An eerie, cool frisson rolled down my spine, all the way down my body to my legs. There was a flicker and a chill from the little wound, and the pain became a little less. At the same moment, I sensed the air grow a fraction of a degree colder, something I would never have noticed on my own.
Sundown.
"That's it," Isaid a second later. "Sun's down. It's on."
"What if you're too late?" Sarissa asked. "What if they're starting right now?"
"Then we're wasting time talking about it," Molly said. "Let's get to the boat." She beckoned Mac and Sarissa. "This way, please."
I glanced at Mouse and jerked my chin toward Molly. He heaved himself up and went after her, walking just behind our two unknown quantities.
Karrin had opened a storage compartment on her Harley. She shrugged out of her jacket, and then slipped into a tactical harness and clicked it shut around her. She added a number of nylon pouches to it, then took out a gym bag and dropped heavy objects in before shutting the compartment and locking it. She looked up at me and nodded. "All set?"
"I miss my gear," I said. "P90 in there?"
"His name is George," Karrin said. "You want my backup gun?"
"Nah, I've already got the finest killing technology 1866 had to offer on the boat. Glad I didn't name it George. How embarrassing would that have been?"
"George isn't insecure," she said.
"What about, ah . . . ?"
"The Swords?"
"The Swords."
"No," Karrin said.
"Why not?"
She frowned and then shook her head. "This . . . isn't their fight."
"That doesn't make any sense," I said.
"I've wielded one," she said. "And it makes perfect sense to me. To use them tonight would be to make them vulnerable. No."
"But-" I began.
"Harry," Karrin said. "Remember the last time the Swords went to the island? When their actual adversaries were there? Remember how that turned out?"
My best friend, Molly's dad, had been shot up like a Tennessee speed limit sign. The Swords had a purpose, and as long as they kept to it, they were invulnerable, and the men and women who wielded them were avenging angels. But if they went off mission, bad things tended to happen.
"Trust me," Karrin said quietly. "I know it doesn't make sense. Sometimes faith is like that. This isn't their fight. It's ours."
I growled. "Fine. But tell the Almighty that He's missing His chance to get in on the ground floor of something big."
Murphy punched my chest, but gently, and smiled when she did it. The two of us turned toward the dock and began to follow Molly and the others. I was just about to step out onto the dock when I heard something. I stopped in my tracks and turned.
It started low and distant, a musical cry from somewhere far away. It hung in the darkening air for a moment like some carrion bird over dying prey, and then slowly faded.
"Dunh nuh nah nah nunh," Molly sang, singing the opening riff from "Bad to the Bone."
I found myself smiling and held up a long coat of heavy black leather, like one of those old cowboy dusters, except for the long mantle hanging down over its shoulders. It smelled like new leather and shone without a scuff mark to be seen. "Where the hell did you find an Inverness coat?" I asked her.
"Internet," she said. "Security Guy helped me shop for it."
"You don't know his name?" I asked.
"His name is Guy, and he's building security," Molly said. "Security Guy."
"And he did this for you why?" I asked.
"Because I'm pretty and because he might have gotten a gift certificate out of the deal."
"Remind me to never give you one of my credit cards," I said, and I put the coat on.
The weight of the leather settling around me was familiar and comforting, but this coat wasn't the same as my old coat. The sleeves were a little longer, and fit better. The shoulders were a little narrower, and actually matched up with mine. The mantle hung down a bit more. The pockets were in a slightly different place. Most significantly, it didn't have the layers of protective enchantments that took about half a working week to lay down.
But . . .
Yeah, I decided. I could get used to it.
I looked up to see my apprentice grinning widely.
I put my hand on her shoulder for a moment, smiled, and said, "Thanks, Molls."
Her eyes shone.
Mouse piled out of the car and hurried over to sniff the coat, tail wagging.
"What do you think?" I asked him.
"Woof," he said seriously.
"He thinks it suits you," Molly said, smiling.
"Goofy motorcycle cowboy meets Scotland Yard?"
Mouse wagged his tail.
I grunted as Karrin pulled in and parked her Harley far down the row from the Munstermobile, in a motorcycle parking space. She eyed me as she came walking up to us, then Molly, and gave her an approving nod. "That's more like it," she said.
"Feels good," I said. I nodded toward the water, where the Water Beetle was chugging slowly back into its berth. Thomas was at the wheel, maneuvering the tub deftly. I waved at him and he replied with a thumbs-up gesture. The boat was ready to go.
I turned to speak to the others, but before I could, I felt my concentration disrupted. An eerie, cool frisson rolled down my spine, all the way down my body to my legs. There was a flicker and a chill from the little wound, and the pain became a little less. At the same moment, I sensed the air grow a fraction of a degree colder, something I would never have noticed on my own.
Sundown.
"That's it," Isaid a second later. "Sun's down. It's on."
"What if you're too late?" Sarissa asked. "What if they're starting right now?"
"Then we're wasting time talking about it," Molly said. "Let's get to the boat." She beckoned Mac and Sarissa. "This way, please."
I glanced at Mouse and jerked my chin toward Molly. He heaved himself up and went after her, walking just behind our two unknown quantities.
Karrin had opened a storage compartment on her Harley. She shrugged out of her jacket, and then slipped into a tactical harness and clicked it shut around her. She added a number of nylon pouches to it, then took out a gym bag and dropped heavy objects in before shutting the compartment and locking it. She looked up at me and nodded. "All set?"
"I miss my gear," I said. "P90 in there?"
"His name is George," Karrin said. "You want my backup gun?"
"Nah, I've already got the finest killing technology 1866 had to offer on the boat. Glad I didn't name it George. How embarrassing would that have been?"
"George isn't insecure," she said.
"What about, ah . . . ?"
"The Swords?"
"The Swords."
"No," Karrin said.
"Why not?"
She frowned and then shook her head. "This . . . isn't their fight."
"That doesn't make any sense," I said.
"I've wielded one," she said. "And it makes perfect sense to me. To use them tonight would be to make them vulnerable. No."
"But-" I began.
"Harry," Karrin said. "Remember the last time the Swords went to the island? When their actual adversaries were there? Remember how that turned out?"
My best friend, Molly's dad, had been shot up like a Tennessee speed limit sign. The Swords had a purpose, and as long as they kept to it, they were invulnerable, and the men and women who wielded them were avenging angels. But if they went off mission, bad things tended to happen.
"Trust me," Karrin said quietly. "I know it doesn't make sense. Sometimes faith is like that. This isn't their fight. It's ours."
I growled. "Fine. But tell the Almighty that He's missing His chance to get in on the ground floor of something big."
Murphy punched my chest, but gently, and smiled when she did it. The two of us turned toward the dock and began to follow Molly and the others. I was just about to step out onto the dock when I heard something. I stopped in my tracks and turned.
It started low and distant, a musical cry from somewhere far away. It hung in the darkening air for a moment like some carrion bird over dying prey, and then slowly faded.