'It's an illusion!' Came a roar. 'Whatever it's showing you, it's bullshit! Snap out of it!'

And I did.

When you can find anything just by focusing, you start thinking you can't be fooled or tricked. Stupid. Sloppy.

Whatever this thing was, this thing that only looked like a house, it had managed, however briefly, to ensnare my mind.

Jason Wolfe had saved my life. I owed him a favour now, and I always paid my debts. Beside, I'd owed worse people in the past. Jason seemed like a decent chap, too, for a not-werewolf. I'd have to look into that...

But, first things first.

I opened my third eye, my private eye, that lets me see the world as it truly is, not as we like to think it is. Vaguely, I realized that the Harrowing, the monstrous, faceless agents of my enemies, had not attacked me at all during this case, despite the fact that I had used my gift thrice in quick succession.

But, you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

With my third eye open, I could see the power of the thing that looked like a house. Dark tendrils of energy, wrapped around my companion's eyes and heads and hearts...except Joanna's.

I looked at her, startled, and saw her true face.

Or, rather, the lack of one.

Joanna's features melted away, fading into blank flesh. Her hair fell away like old, brittle leaves, and I gasped.

A Harrowing, or something like it. Cathy Barret had said the truth, despite all:Joanna was not her mother, because there had never been a Joanna Barrett.

This angered me. Had this all been a ploy by my enemies? Fashioning a strong, yet still vulnerable woman, to lure me to this place so it would consume me?

And it had almost worked, too. Thank you, Jason.

I glared at the tendrils of power, prepared to reach out and break them... but I didn't need to.

Sandman Slim took out his twisted black knife and stabbed himself in the chest with it. The tendrils around him withered away, like dying weeds. Stark sighed, sounding almost pleased. He was not bleeding, and the hole in his chest was already closing. He shot me a toothy grin and nodded.

Harry Dresden took a deep breath that, for some reason, steamed on the air. He shook his head rapidly, from side to side, like a dog clearing water from its ears, and the tendrils froze and shattered.

Chris Gordon suddenly blazed with his purple aura, and the tendrils around him were cut apart, before drifting away in the aethereal wind.

And Suzie Shooter, Shotgun Suzie, lifted her namesake and shot the ceiling. The tendrils fell apart, quivering as if in pain. I nodded. Suzie had never listened to anyone, not even her own fantasies, whatever they were.

Mine had been... my father Charles had still been alive. He had been reunited with my mother, but she... I could not remember her, not even this illusory version of her. I still couldn't see her.

I would learn the truth, one day.

I concentrated on the house itself, seeing beyond its disguise. Not a house, indeed. Not that it had ever been one. This thing was alien, in every sense of the word:a monster from Outside, from a place where life had walked a different, twisted path. But, still a monster.

And every monster had a weakness.

I could see its heart, its core, not in our universe, but in another reality altogether.

I closed my private eye. My eyes, nose and mouth had started bleeding. Even without my enemies' pursuit, using my gift was still straining.

I knew what I had to do. 'Someone grab my hand, then someone grab theirs! I've seen its weakness!'

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

'The fuck do you wanna do, sing kumbaya?' Stark asked, knife still in hand. I shook my head.

'Hold my damned hand so I can share my gift with you! I can't do this alone!'

Stark grumbled mutinously, but he took my hand. His was calloused and scarred, and filled with inhuman strength. Dresden took his hand, and soon, we formed a chain.

I opened my third eye, and they saw as I did. We were in the realm that hosted the house's heart. I could see it, blazing above us like a false sun, like an evil eye. Around it spun a pillar of energy, the life it had drained from its previous victims. Those poor fools who had been lured here, who had been consumed and had died without even knowing it.

Dead, but not departed.

The house's victims appeared around us:vague, transparent shapes, but I could still make out their faces. I could still see their desire to be avenged, to see the house destroyed and justice done. They grasped our hands, and lent their strength to ours.

Joanna appeared, too: a woman who had never been, but could have.

I grasped their power and will, and it was the easiest thing in the world for me to throw it at the house's heart, and destroy it. It fell appart, or shattered, or melted. It was unmade, and we were back in our reality.

The house was shuddering now. It had already died, it just didn't know it yet. It would soon fall apart, I knew.

'We have to get out,' I said, then looked at the floor, at Cathy. 'I-' But before I could say anything, Chris blurred across the room and gathered her in his arms. She was no longer mad now: the house dead, she was now dazed, eyes clouded and unfocused. Chris muttered something soothing to her, and was gone, out of the room, down the stairs and out of the house, in less than a heartbeat.

'Come on,' Stark said, gesturing at a large shadow. 'Take my hand, and try to keep up.' And so we did. We followed Stark through the shadow... and into a large room I knew wasn't part of the false house. It contained nothing apart from thirteen strange doors: one was made of fire, one of mist, and one was covered in chains and locks. And more besides, strange and eldritch.

I raised an eyebrow at Stark. He smirked. 'Showing you lot this is enough. Don't you start asking questions.' He walked through a door that constantly changed colour, and we followed. And like that, we were back on Blaiston Street, just in time to see the house fall apart and dissapear, like it had never been there.

Walker showed up soon after, alongside some of his people. Walker, that impeccable city gent in his suit, old school tie and bowler hat, which he tipped in greeting as he arrived.

Dresden stepped protectively in front of Cathy, still held in Chris' arms. 'We saved her, Walker. There's no need for you to be here.'

Walker smiled coldly. 'I think you'll realise there is quite a need, Mr. Dresden...'

'Why do you care about this kid so much?" Suzie asked bluntly. "What is she to you?'

Walker turned to her, nodding, but Stark spoke before he could. 'Bait in a trap, I bet. Send us chasing after a kid he knew had been trapped by a monster, so we would be trapped and killed. You knew what the house really was, didn't you, Walker? You're said to know everything.' Slim was smiling now, his shapeshifting weapon in his hand. 'Four people show up in the Nightside at the same time, and start fucking up your precious status quo. Then, an old sensation returns, ready to help around again, and Shotgun Suzie joins up, too. Why not kill six birds with one stone, and avoid some headaches later on?'

Walker was still smiling. 'Paranoia is a terrible thing, Mr. Stark.'