feels a death

He let out a scream that didn't sound anything like human, and tried to bite me. I rolled out of his way, helping him along with a stiff shove to his back.
Mouse came down on top of him, and that was that.
I eyed Thomas as Mouse made sure that the remarkably resilient vampire wasn't going to be getting up again for anything, ever. It had been a close call. The Skavis had timed his move just right. Another second, give or take, and he'd have broken my neck.
"Well," I told Thomas, my breathing still quick. "It's about time."
"Better late than never," Thomas replied. He glanced at the bleeding Elaine, licked his lips once, and said, "She needs help."
"It's on the way," Murphy said. "Response is slow here, but give them a couple of minutes. Everyone's okay up there, Harry."
Thomas let out a breath of relief. "Thank God."
Which was odd, coming from him, all things considered. I concurred with the sentiment, though.
Molly sat behind the wheel of the Beetle, breathing too quickly, her eyes very wide. She couldn't quite see Mouse or his grisly chew toy from where she was sitting, but she stared as if she could see right through the Beetle's hood to where my dog was finishing up his deadly, ugly work.
"So," I asked Thomas. "How'd Lara get you to promise not to talk?"
My brother turned toward me and gave me a huge grin. Then he wiped it off his face and said, in the tone of a radio announcer on Prozac, "I don't know what you're talking about, Warden Dresden." He winked. "But hypothetlcally speaking, she might have told me that Justine was in danger and refused to divulge anything else until I promised to keep my mouth shut."
"And you let her get away with that kind of crap?" I asked him.
Thomas shrugged and said, "She's family."
Molly suddenly lunged up out of the driver's seat of the Beetle and was noisily sick.
"Seems a little fragile," Thomas said.
"She's adjusting," I replied. "Madrigal and his Malvora buddy are still out there."

White Night Chapter 31, Page 317-318


There was a sudden, sharp sound as the leather strand of her bracelet snapped of its own volition. Black beads flew upward with so much force that they rattled off the ceiling and went bouncing around the apartment for a good ten seconds. Mister, still batting playfully at his gift sack of catnip, paused to watch them, ears flicking, eyes alertly tracking their movement.
I went up to the girl, who was staring at them, mystified.
"It was the vampire, wasn't it," I said. "Seeing him die."
She blinked at me. Then at the scattered beads. "I... I didn't just see it, Harry. I felt it. I can't explain it any better than that. Inside my head. I felt it, the same way I felt that poor girl. But this was horrible."
"Yeah," I said. "You're a sensitive. It's a tremendous talent, but it has some drawbacks to it. In this case, though, I'm glad you have it."
"Why?" she whispered.
I gestured at the scattered beads. "Congratulations, kid," I told her quietly. "You're ready."
She blinked at me, her head tilted. "What?"
I took the now-empty leather strand and held it up between two fingers. "It wasn't about power, Molly. It was never about power. You've got plenty of that."

White Night Chapter 34, Page 349-351