Cold Days by Jim Butcher Read Free Book Online Page B

my expression and let out a low, rumbling chuckle. It wasn’t one of those ironic snickers. It was a rolling, full-throated sound of amusement, and it made his stomach shake like . . . dare I say it?
    Like a bowl full of jelly.
    “And this,” Eldest Gruff said, “is Mab’s new Knight.”
    “Uh,” I said. “Sorry. I . . . uh. Hi.” I stuck my hand out. “Harry Dresden.”
    His hand engulfed mine as he continued to chortle. His fingers could have crushed my bones. “I know who you are, Dresden,” he rumbled. “Call me Kringle.”
    “Wow, seriously? ’Cause . . . wow.”
    “Oh, my God, that’s adorable,” Sarissa said, smiling. “You are such a fanboy, Dresden.”
    “Yeah, I’ve just . . . I hadn’t really expected this kind of thing.”
    Kringle let out another rumbling laugh. It absolutely filled the air around him. “Surely you knew that I made my home among the beings of Faerie. Did you think I would be a vassal of Summer, lad?”
    “Honestly?” I asked. “I haven’t ever really stopped to think it through.”
    “Few do,” he said. “How does your new line of work suit you?”
    “Doesn’t,” I said.
    “Then why did you agree to it?”
    “Seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”
    Kringle smiled at me. “Ah. I didn’t much care for your predecessor.”
    “Ditto,” I said. “So do you come to all of these?”
    “It’s customary,” Kringle replied. “I get to visit folk I rarely see elsewhere.” He nodded toward the Erlking and Eldest Gruff. “We take a few moments to catch up.”
    “And hunt,” the Erlking said, showing sharp-looking teeth when he smiled.
    “And hunt,” Kringle said. He eyed Eldest Gruff. “Would you care to accompany us this year?”
    Gruff somehow managed to smile. “You always ask.”
    “You always say no.”
    Eldest Gruff shrugged and said nothing.
    “Wait,” I said to Kringle. “You’re going hunting?” I pointed at the Erlking. “With him ? You? ”
    Kringle let out another guffaw and, I swear to God, rested his hands on his belly while he did it. “Why wouldn’t I?”
    “Dude,” I said. “Dude. You’re . . . freaking Santa Claus.”
    “Not until after Halloween,” he said. “Enough is enough. I’m drawing a line.”
    “Hah,” I said, “but I’m kinda not joking here.”
    He grunted, and the smile faded from his features. “Lad, let me tell you something here and now. None of us is what we once were. Everyone has a history. Everyone comes from somewhere. Each moves toward a destination. And in a lifetime as long as mine, the road can run far and take strange windings—something I judge you know something about.”
    I frowned. “Meaning?”
    He gestured at himself. “This became the tale with which you are familiar only in fairly recent times. There are wizards enough alive today who knew of no such person when they were children awaiting the winter holiday.”
    I nodded thoughtfully. “You became something different.”
    He gave me a wink of his eye.
    “So what were you before?”
    Kringle smiled, apparently content to say nothing.
    I turned to Sarissa, asking, “You seem to know these guys, mostly. What . . . ?”
    She wasn’t there.
    I looked around the immediate area, but didn’t see her. I moved my eyes back to Kringle and the Erlking. The two of them looked at me calmly, without expression. I darted a glance to Eldest Gruff, whose long, floppy right ear twitched once.
    I glanced to my left, following the motion, and spotted Sarissa being led onto the dance floor underneath the replica of my original Star Wars poster. The poster was the size of a skyscraper mural now, the dance floor beneath it the size of a parking lot. For the most part, the Sidhe were dancing, all fantastic grace and whirling color, with the occasional glitter of jewellike feline eyes sparkling as they turned and swayed.
    A young male Sidhe was leading her by the wrist, and from the set of her shoulders she was in pain. You couldn’t have