winter healing

 “Fine,” I said, rolling my eyes. I shrugged my way out of the ruined tux.
“Jesus,” Molly said softly, looking at me. She leaned around me, frowning at my back. “You look like a passion play.”
“Doesn’t feel so bad,” I said.
“It might if one of these cuts gets infected,” Molly said. “Just . . . just stand there and hold still. Man.” She went to the cabinet and came back with a big brown bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a couple of kitchen towels. I watched her walking back and forth. “We’ll start with your back. Lean on the counter.”
I did, resting my elbows on the granite, still watching her. Molly fumbled with the supplies for a second, then bit her lower lip and began to move with purpose. She started dribbling peroxide onto the cuts on my back in little bursts of cold liquid that might have made me jump before I’d spent so much time in Arctis Tor. It burned a little, and then fizzed enthusiastically.
“So, not one question?” I asked her.
“Hmmm?” She didn’t look up from her work.
“I come back from the dead, I sort of expected . . . I don’t know. A little shock. And about a million questions.”
“I knew you were alive,” Molly said.
“Yeah, I sort of figured. How?” She didn’t answer, and after a moment I realized the likely answer. “My godmother.”
“She takes her Yoda-ing seriously.”
“I remember,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. “How long have you known?”
“Several weeks,” Molly said. “There are so many cuts here, I don’t think I have enough Band-Aids. We’ll have to wrap it, I guess.”
“I’ll just put a clean shirt over them,” I said. “Look, it isn’t a big deal. Little marks like that are going to be gone in a day or two.”
“Little . . . Winter Knight stuff?”


Cold Days Chapter 13, Page 120-121