Proven Guilty (The Dresden Files #8) - Jim Butcher Page 0,24

much in their bearing, expression, and movement as it did in their appearance. Charity was a rose wrought of stainless steel. Molly could have been her younger self.

Of course, I doubted Charity had ever worn an outfit like Mollys.

Molly stood facing me in a long, gauzy black skirt, shredded artistically in several places. She wore fishnet tights beneath it, showing more leg and hip than any mother would prefer. The tights, too, were artfully torn in patches to display pale, smooth skin of thigh and calf. She had army-surplus combat boots on her feet, laced up with neon pink and blue laces. She wore a tight tank top, its fabric white, thin, and strained by the curves of her breasts, and a short black bolero jacket bearing a huge, gaudy button printed with the logo SPLATTERCON!!! in dripping red letters. Black leather gloves covered her hands.

But wait, thats not all.

Her blond hair had been dyed, parti-colored, one half of her head bubblegum pink, the other sky blue, and it had been cut at a uniform length that ended just below her chin and left most of her face covered by a close veil of hair. She wore a lot of makeup; way too much eye liner and mascara, and black lipstick colored her mouth. Bright rings of gold gleamed in both nostrils, her lower lip, and her right eyebrow, and there was a bead of gold in that little dent just under her lower lip. There were miniature barbell-shaped bulges at the tips of her breasts, where the thin fabric emphasized rather than concealed them.

I didnt want to know what else had been pierced. I know I didnt, because I told myself that very sternly. I didnt want to know, even if it was, hell, a little intriguing.

But wait, thats still not all.

She had a tattoo on the left side of her neck in the shape of a slithering serpent, and I could see the barbs and curves of some kind of tribal design flickering out from the neckline of her tank top. Another design, whirling loops and spirals, covered the back of her right hand and vanished up under the sleeve of the jacket.

She watched me with one eyebrow arched, waiting for me to react. Her posture and expression both made the effort to say that she was way too cool to care what I thought, but I could practically taste the uncertainty she was working to hide, and her anxiety.

Long time, no see, I said, finally.

Hello, Harry, she replied. The words came out a little thick, and I saw more gold flash near the tip of her tongue.

Of course.

Its odd, I said. From here, it doesnt look like youre in jail at all.

I know, she said. She managed to keep her voice mostly steady, but her face and throat colored pink in a guilty flush. She shifted her weight restlessly, and an odd clicking sound came from her mouth. Good grief. Shed picked up a tic of rattling her tongue piercing against her teeth when she was nervous. Urn. I should apologize, I guess. Uhhellip;

She floundered. I let her. A long silence made her look more flustered, but I had no intention of politely helping her out of it.

Mouse sat down between me and Molly, watching her intently.

Molly smiled at the dog and reached down to pet him.

Mouse tensed up, and a low rumbling came from his chest. Molly moved her hand toward him again, and my dogs chest suddenly rumbled with a deep and warning growl.

The last time Mouse had growled at anythingfor that matter, made much noise at allit had been a crazed sorcerer who made fair headway toward eviscerating me, and summoned a twenty-foot-long demon cobra to kill my dog. Mouse killed it instead. Then, at my command, Mouse killed the sorcerer, too.

And now he was growling at Molly.

Be polite, I told him firmly. Shes a friend.

Mouse gave me a look and then fell quiet again. He sat calmly as Molly let him sniff her hand and scratch at his ears, but his wary body language didnt change.

When did you get a dog? Molly asked.

Mouse was spooked, though not the way he was when serious bad guys were around. Interesting. I kept my tone neutral. Couple years ago. His name is Mouse.

What breed is he?

Hes a West Highlands Dogasaurus, I said.

Hes huge.

I said nothing, and the girl floundered some more. Im sorry, she said, finally. I lied to you to get you to come down