She let that sit in the air for a long moment of silence.
“Why does Mab think you need revenge?” she asked.
“Said it would make managing the Winter mantle easier.”
“You having problems with it?”
“I…no. Not so much. I mean, the exercise, the routine, the discipline. And I’ve gotten better at…I dunno. Compartmentalizing? Or maybe figuring out which is the mantle and which is actually me.”
“Ah,” she said. “So if you’re aware that it’s the mantle that wants vengeance, why are you even asking me about it?”
“Oh,” I said.
“Do you?” she asked. “Is that what you want? To do unto Rudolph as he did unto Murphy?”
I flinched again.
I didn’t like it when the shade pointed out that she wasn’t…
Wasn’t…
“I…” I swallowed. “When it happened. I wanted to crush him. Slow. Painful.” The blue pinpoint lights blurred. “And I’d never felt so certain about anything in my life. It was like everything in me was all aligned, pointing in the same direction.” I shook my head. “It was like fighting a child. Wasn’t a damned thing he could do.”
She was sitting in the one chair in the room. She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. “Then what happened?”
“Two Knights of the Cross showed up to stop me,” I said. “I fought them. My friends. And I lost.” I held up the arm that still bore the burn scar from the Sword of Faith. “And the Sword that only smites the wicked did this to me.”
“My God,” she said. “You’re not even Catholic.”
I frowned. “Eh?”
She smiled at me. “I suppose we don’t have a monopoly on carrying shame, but we’re definitely number one.” She paused and mused, “We. You’d think I’d not be Catholic anymore given my circumstances. But here we are.”
“I’m not ashamed of the fight,” I said quietly.
“But you’re ashamed of the burn,” she said.
“I’m ashamed I failed y…” I swallowed and took a deep breath. “Her.”
The shade sat back slowly. I could see her face now. Her eyes. Her hair. Exactly like Murph. Her expression was pensive, intent.
“I failed her,” I said quietly. “I loved her and I failed her.”
“A great many people died that night,” the shade said quietly. “Mortals. Supernatural folk. It was a war. And no one was in control of what was happening.”
“Ishouldhave been,” I said viciously. “I should have been.”
Her eyes glistened with tears. “Oh,” she said quietly. “Oh, Harry.” She folded her hands and said, “I have all of her memories, you know. Iremember that you told her to stay under cover. That she was in no shape to go to war. You did that, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“But she didn’t listen.”
“Course she didn’t,” I said. “You know how she was.”
“More than anyone, I suspect.” She sighed. “What is it, exactly, you think you should have done?”
“Bonked her on the head and dropped her off at McAnally’s,” I said.
