The Dresden Files/Codex Alera is copyright Jim Butcher. This story is licensed under the Creative Commons as derivative, noncommercial fiction.

I awoke in the early afternoon. After sitting down and doing my makeup, I shot a text to Thomas, and he came over and took the rollers out, trimming the back of my hair and bangs on the balcony.

Afterward, I got dressed, moisturizing my skin and spritzing a bit of perfume. Glancing in the mirror, I used a touch of hair spray to make Thomas's efforts freeze in place.

I pulled on some calf-length silk stockings and slipped my feet into the Jimmy Chou's.

Standing in front of the mirror, I saw Lara Raith, looking like a million, or to be exact, eight-billion, seven-hundred and fifty-seven point three million bucks. My glossy black hair gently tumbled loosely around my shoulders, curling slightly. I touched it with my palms, sliding my fingers through the locks and arranging them perfectly. My white suit perfectly fitted my svelte form, highlighting what needed to be highlighted without over emphasizing or slacking in any one area. My Jimmy Choo white patent leather heels peeked spectacularly from beneath the crisp folds of my white slacks. I brushed invisible lint from my shoulders, and pursed my lips to make sure my lips didn't mar.

Thomas opened the door. "Ready, Sis?"

"Ready," I said. "How do I look?"

"Perfect." Thomas said. I grabbed my Coach purse, and we walked to the escalator.

As we drove, Thomas lit a cigarette. He inhaled, then handed it to me. I inhaled the fragrant smoke, letting it stream out my nostrils before handing it back.

"So," he said. "Plan of attack?"

"She'll be dormant during the day. May even be sleeping."

The top was down, so we had to raise our voicess to be heard. The amazing thing about the BMW i8 however, was my hair wasn't blown to terribly.

"We going to have to kill her?" He handed me the cigarette again.

I inhaled, holding the smoke in awhile. It gave me a pleasant feeling. "No, I'm pretty sure we can just take her where she needs to go. Did you come up with anything in your research?"

"A few. She was a pretty active reporter."

"Anything that might be considered a 'sin?'"

"She outed some people she considered monsters. I think some of them may have lost business, friends, and family as a result."

"How many?"

"Dozens." Thomas said, reaching for the cigarette.

I sighed, running my hand through my tresses after handing it back to him. "Going to take awhile, I suppose."

"If she has to atone for every sin she ever committed, it could take forever."

"Agreed."

The day was bright and sunny and gorgeous. I caught my visage in the review mirror, and I must say, I looked good with the gold-and diamond encrusted Cartier sunglasses. I stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray.

"I didn't know we smoked," I said. "I kinda like it."

"Yeah, we both have quit multiple times. We're getting good at it."

I giggled at that.

Being Lara wouldn't be such a bad thing, I didn't think. I was strong, rich, sexy as hell. No, I couldn't sling fireballs, and no if I tried to punch someone in the face, I'd probably break a nail, but there were far worse people I could be.

I knew the true weakness of the White Court was true love. If someone was truly in love with me, it would burn like the worst of sunburns. But Thomas and Justine worked around it, so maybe there was a way I could? That path wasn't one I wanted to travel down, but if needed…

"So how are you going to explain—" Thomas started.

"What?" I said.

"Um, your Jimmy Choos." Thomas snickered. "You're new outlook on life."

"Oh, shit. Yeah. Almost forgot that bit."

"Yeah, so?"

"Eh, I'll tell her the truth. She knows me too well."

"And Murphy?"

I sighed. "Guess I need to get fitted for a Maid of Honor Dress."

"As the maid of honor, you have certain expectations."

"Pfft, yeah."

"Planning the venue, helping with a color palette, hiring a planner…"

"Sounds like I'll need to be in contact with Karrin quite a bit, doesn't it?"

"Mhmm, gives you plenty of excuses to go over and see her."

"Right," I said, smiling.

"Perhaps reduce the hold Harry has on her."

"You should have seen her. She was gobsmacked. What the hell did he do to her?"

"Common thrall spell, Lara. You probably know at least the mechanics of it."

I thought about that. "Yes, I do, actually."

"In many ways, you're going up against your worst adversary."

"How so?"

"Well, he has all your memories, he possesses all you magic. He has Murphy locked down…"

"True. I'm going up against…myself."

"Exactly."

"But I'll be by your side through it all, Lara. Don't you worry."

"Thanks, little brother."

As we sped down the freeway, I felt strangely positive given the entire situation. Sure, I'd lost everything, but I hadn't lost everyone. Sure, the bitch had my life partner, my magic, my body, but she couldn't take away what made me, me. She couldn't take away that I was Harry Fucking Blackstone Copperfield Dresden. No matter what I might look like on the outside, or what fuckery had been planted to rearrange my insides, I was still me.

We pulled into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn Express where Susan was staying. I pulled the sunshade down, and fixed my lipstick, and fluffed out my hair.

Lara Grace Romany Raith. I would be coming for you.

And I would win.

end part one

Thank you to everyone who's read or commented. Part Two is also complete, and I'll start posting tomorrow!