Kim looked at me, a confused expression on her face. "Harry? How did you get here so fast? And who's the dog?"

It took me a second to respond. My gut was screaming to tell her everything, to protect her, to keep her from being ripped apart tonight by a wild wolf beast. Part of me wanted to go with her, do the spell myself, since I was stronger than her, and I knew exactly what I was up against; Save the girl and universe be damned. Stupid gut.

Another part of me had forgotten what a knockout Kim was. Dark hair, tall, though not as tall as Molly or her mother, Charity. Rather statuesque, with soft skin and, to use the old-world expression, a killer rack. But she was still upset from our last meeting… or what I had always thought had been our last meeting.

The last part of me was calm and rational. It was small, but it was there. I had to let Kim go get herself killed, and I hated myself for it. I hated the universe for it. In a small but growing way, I hated Kim herself for it. If she'd just told me everything…

But I was stalling. "I'm dog-sitting. He uh… he pulled me."

Mouse introduced himself in his usual way, by placing his head directly below Kim's hand and moving it side to side. Good ol' Mouse. Never afraid to do the work himself.

In spite of the anger I could feel coming off her, she smiled. Just a little, but it broke her mood. "It's nice to meet you," she said.

Mouse made a soft snorting sound, his way of saying, 'Likewise,' and sat beside her.

Suddenly, her smile vanished. "Wait… you mean you left him in your car?"

Ah, crap. I'd forgotten Kim was a bit of an activist. "He wouldn't come out when I stopped. You see how big he is. I couldn't move him."

She grimaced, apparently letting this particular reason for hating me go. She took a deep breath. "Look, Harry, I'm sorry for getting angry. I'm just frustrated."

"I know. I mean, I could tell. It's just…" What, Harry? Are you trying to convince her of something?

I blinked. That thought had not been mine. "Uh," I said.

Kim crossed her arms. "Dangerous?" she supplied.

Oh. She thought I was talking to her. Which I suppose I was. "Well," I said, still trying to sort out if that thought had come from where I thought it had, "yes, frankly." In a sudden burst of contrariness, I stepped closer to her and lowered my voice. "Kim, I don't want to say you can't handle it, but, you can't. Hell, I'm not even sure I could." Particularly with your soul so depleted, Harry.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead, expecting a headache for some reason. There was no pain, however.

Lash? You're… you're in here?

Yes, she responded. At least, I thought I heard a response. It's entirely possible I thought that word to myself. Hell's bells, was this my version of wishful thinking? I want the imprint of a Fallen Angel in my head to come back? What the Hell-with-a-capital-H is wrong with me?

She said nothing else… if, indeed, she had said anything at all.

"I get it, Harry," Kim was saying. "You're worried. Well, rest assured, I'm not going to do anything dangerous or stupid."

Liar, I thought. Then the words were coming out before I could stop them. "Kim, I'm sorry." She looked at me, a confused expression on her face. "I'm sorry I didn't give you what you needed. I'm sorry I let you down."

She nodded, then smiled with one half of her mouth. "It's alright, Harry. You're always trying to protect people. Even from themselves. So, thank you, but I'm a big girl. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm late to go meet another friend." She moved around me, heading for a bus as it pulled up.

I wanted to reach out, grab her arm, and tell her Harley MacFinn was going to kill her tonight. I wanted to tell her I'd come with her, help her perform the containment spell that she was about to attempt. I wanted to save her life and the dozen or so others who were going to die over the next couple of days. I wanted to yell and scream about the injustice of having her re-inserted into my life, only to watch her get ripped out of it again. I really wanted to.

But I couldn't. Oh, not because some high moral standing brought me up short, or the fear of destroying the world stopped me. When I say I wanted to, I mean I tried to. When I say I couldn't, I mean something physically stopped me. No metaphors. For the five seconds she took to get on the bus, I was unable to move or speak. Literally paralysed.

Then Kim was on the bus, the bus was pulling away, and I was able to move again.

As I watched her mass transit swan song, my mind was racing furiously, mostly in circles. Ebenezar came out from under his veil in an alley ten feet from me, but I didn't acknowledge him. His expression went from determined to concerned in a blink. "You alright, Hoss?" he asked, stepping close.

"No, Sir. I don't think I am."

"You feel the net?"

"What?" I turned to face him.

"The net, boy. Peabody's security system. You feel it?"

I shook my head. Kim's appearance had momentarily driven everything else out of my mind. "Oh, yes, Sir. I got a feel. Don't walk past the bench."

"Good lad. Stretches out about the same distance on the other side, but barely crosses the road."

"And it stays about 5 feet off the ground."

"Of course. He couldn't have children setting it off, or a mother."

"They would trigger a magical detection net?"

McCoy gave me a look that made me feel like a 16 year old dunce. He'd mastered that look many, many years ago. "What have I always told you, Hoss? A mother's love, a baby's laugh, a lover's smile. All magic, in their way."

I felt sheepish. It had been one of the first lessons he'd taught me. "Of course, you're right."

"I know. Now," he said, turning and walking away from the bus stop and Cicero's, "what is our next move?"

I moved to stay with him. "You're asking me?"

"I could come up with an idea, but I know you well enough to know you've already got one, so why waste the time? Now, out with it."

I smiled and glanced down at Mouse. "I think you need a haircut, boy."

Mouse gave me a nervous look.

*****

We circled the block, and found Peabody's green net stretched out from the restaurant in two long stretches; one out front along the sidewalk, and the other out the back and along the alley running behind the buildings. Ebenezar found that one. I told him I was feeling drained, and I was, but mostly I was distracted. The one-two punch of seeing Kim again and the signals I kept thinking I was getting from Lash had pretty much broken my concentration.

I tried not to think about the fact that, as we stood there, my friend was about to die, and a younger version of me was off with a younger, far less nice version of Murphy, examining a dead body.

This time tomorrow, Murph would be arresting me for Kim's murder, and a day later, MacFinn would hack and slash his way through the holding cells at the police station, killing several prisoners and cops… until I blew him through a wall. And three other buildings. Then blinded him with a little of his blood, a Snoopy doll, and some creative thaumaturgy.

Man, when I say like that, it sounds kind of impressive, doesn't it?

Whatever. People are going to die, and I'm not allowed to stop it. To paraphrase a man greater than myself, 'I canna change the laws of temporal physics'.

We got ourselves worked into space between some dumpsters in the alleyway behind the buildings, and Ebenezar drew a circle without completing it. He also pulled out a pouch of Peabody's personal items. The pouch included some of the traitor's hair and a few of the quills and ink pots he had kept with him at all times.

I took out a Swiss army knife and clipped a little of Mouse's hair. "Just remember," I told him, "don't be seen. Okay? You're really brave, but don't do anything. Just get close, rummage a bit. Stay quiet. Then stay put. We'll do the rest."

He huffed at me.

"Easy for you to say." I stood, and removed his lead. He trotted off down the alley, heading for the restaurant. Mouse was better than three feet tall at his shoulder. Hiding wasn't exactly his forte. But for my idea to work, he'd have to be as inconspicuous as possible.

I could go crawling along the back alley. So could Ebenezar. But then we wouldn't be working the listening spell. We'd have to stand to make the circle, not only setting off the net, but God knows how many employees of the various establishments along here would see us. But a dog rummaging in garbage? Hardly worth noticing.

The spell wasn't overly complicated, but having both of us work it would speed things up greatly, as we could work all the parts of it together. I had a strong connection to Mouse, and McCoy had a connection to Peabody. We both had a feel for the detection spell.

All those things combined would allow us to tap into the detection spell itself, and use it to listen in to its creator… and hopefully, anyone within a couple feet of them. But it was like trying to find a voice in a crowded room. To work, we needed a triangulating focus, a third party, at a set location that we could be tied to and judge the vibrations of the green net against… and if that party didn't set off the net, all the better.

I'm not going to lie. Ebenezar or I, under normal circumstances, could probably have run both the link to Mouse and the reversal spell on our own. But I was distracted, and we were both exhausted; I didn't want to try anything complicated. So, once again, we were sealed in a circle together.

"I haven't worked a spell with you in over a decade, and now I go and do it twice in one day, Sir."

"Hmph. Almost like your old teacher still has something to teach you, eh Hoss?"

I smiled. "You know, Sir, we in the business like to call that a set-up line. I set you up for something like, 'It ain't the same day, lunkhead,' and you completely missed it."

McCoy turned to me with his eyebrows up. "Your jokes are almost as bad as your metaphors, boy. Now shut up and concentrate."

"Yes, Sir."

We stood back to back, working our separate spells, and still trying to keep a sense of what the other one was doing, allowing the forces we were manipulating to mingle. I hadn't done that much; a few times with Ebenezar and once or twice with Molly. Usually, the point of working a spell in a circle is to exclude all other forces, not combine them.

Forming a link between Mouse and the hair I had in my hand was easy – as a PI, finding lost things was my bread and butter. Tracking spells mostly consisted of forming a magical link between two items, and following the trail. But this was two two-way links, that were then linked to each other. A trifle more complicated.

Fortunately, I knew my old teacher's ways. We had a sense of each other's energy, and forming a link between ourselves was almost the easiest part. We both stopped working our forces at the same time, and McCoy broke the circle as we let the magic out.

Instantly, I knew where Mouse was: lying beside a beat-up old Honda parked right beside the rear door to Cicero's. If I poked my head around the dumpster, I could see the back of the car. As long as I held the hair wrapped around my left index finger, I would continue to know.

"Mouse is in position," I reported.

"Good." McCoy took two of the ink bottles, and placed a few strands of Peabody's hair in each, making sure it was submerged in the liquid. Then he offered me one. I took it, not quite sure what to do next, but nursing a nasty suspicion.

"We don't have to drink this, do we?"

"Of course not. Just pour some in your ear."

"Um… what?"

He let out a slow breath. "The more I think back on it, the slower a student you seem in my memory," he said. Then he tilted his head and the ink bottle, dripping a black, sticky fluid into his ear.

I sighed. I'd really hoped we'd just be sticking our fingers in it, or something. Then I closed my eyes, tilted my head and made like my own Claudius.

The feeling was disgusting and only a thrust of willpower kept me from jerking my head away. It overflowed my ear and spilled over my face, some of it running right over my eye and off the tip of my nose. I silently hoped it wouldn't congeal and have to be cleaned out with something even worse. And what a picture we must have made: two grown men, standing in a dark alley, with their heads tilted sideways and their faces covered in black ink. Classiness, thy name is Wizard.

The rush of sound was immediate. I could hear Peabody's voice, though it was different than I remembered. I could hear meat sizzling nearby. I could hear the clink of silverware and glass. I could hear the murmur of voices at surrounding tables and I could hear the tapping of a finger on the table. Everything was distorted and echoing. I tightened my hand on Mouse's hair, fed a little of my will into the spell, and the sound cleared up. I heard Peabody clearly.

"…raise an interesting point, yes. But I don't believe your chosen course of action is justified, yet." His voice sounded deeper and more nasal. Then I got it; we were hearing though his own ears. A very nice touch, McCoy.

A woman's voice, slightly tinny, with an accent I couldn't quite place, answered him. She was whispering, just loud enough for him to hear. I tried to put a colour to the voice. Red came to mind. A bright, light fuchsia. "But you agree; something must be done. Our previous moves have been… countered. I have little hope for the success of our latest enterprise."

"Agent Denton isn't done, yet."

"Son of a bitch," I swore. "Denton's the FBI agent behind all the werewolf problems that go down this week."

"I know, Hoss, hush."

The whispering woman lowered her voice further. "He is corrupted by the power we gave him. His colleagues are even worse. This is Victor Sells all over again."

Victor Sells had been a small-time sorcerer, using some tiny natural talent and skills he picked up from someone stronger to kill and create a drug called Three-Eye. Three-Eye had been powerful because it allowed vanilla people to see, briefly, as though with a Wizard's Sight. Seeing things as they truly are, in all their glory or horror, all the intentions and emotions wrought in them, all the energy and potential, past, present and future, all at once, and unable to forget it. It was, as we wizards say, some potent shit.

With the manufacturer dead (thanks to your friendly neighbourhood wizard) the supply had disappeared, and the addicts had mostly regained their sanity. But the 'someone stronger' who had got Sells going had never been found.

Until now, apparently.

Now Peabody dropped his voice, as well. "Sells was weak. A mistake. That Dresden child got lucky."

True.

"Dresden? Yes… he is a complication."

"I can have him dealt with. There's no need to step up the schedule."

"We will wait. If the good agent fails, put your cat's paw in play."

There was a pause, and I heard a gulping sound. Peabody was taking a drink of water. "Mr. Kravos will be ready soon. Next month, perhaps."

My eyes snapped open. Kravos had been a demon-summoning sorcerer, who, after dying, had moved on to possession. Michael Carpenter and I had put him out of commission twice. Sneaky little bastard had also been in league with the Red Court of vampires.

"If he fails, I will be forced to take more drastic action. We must have Chicago completely to ourselves," she said. "One way or another. The White and Red Courts have held sway here too long. There is too much power in this city. If it comes to it, I am willing to give them New York."

"The Whites are happy in L.A."

"That will not last much longer. Much is in motion, Mr. Peabody. Take heart. A few more years, and we will all get what we want."

There was a pause. I heard Peabody's voice give a little moan. Then a breath. Then a waiter's voice. "Can I get you anything else, Sir?"

Peabody sounded confused. "Oh, no, thank you. Just the bill."

McCoy and I straightened up at the same moment. "She's moving," he said, but so was I. I ran down the alley, finger in my ear, trying to work out all the ink. Peabody's voice and the din of the restaurant vanished, replaced by the cacophony of the street I was running for. I slid to a stop at the corner of the alley, and poked my head around. I counted to ten, getting my breathing under control, then extended my senses down the street to the front door of Cicero's. The green net was fading away. I was still careful not to touch it, but I was also looking for the bright red sensation I'd felt off the woman.

I didn't wait long. McCoy came up behind me, and I felt him cover us both with a veil, causing everything to distort a little. Then I caught a flicker of bright red out of the corner of my virtual eye. "There," I said, pointing. A very short woman, with long, grey hair. A cab was waiting for her out front. She was dressed well, but not so flashy that she would draw attention, in a floral print dress that stopped at mid-calf and exposed her very high heels. Her back was to us.

"Come on, turn around," McCoy muttered. He started walking, and I followed him, staying close under his veil. When we were about 40 feet away, she opened the door of the cab and turned as she got in, giving us just a quick glimpse of her face.

We both stopped abruptly.

"Did you just see that, Hoss?"

"Yeah," I said, but not trusting my eyes. "Yeah, I saw who it looked like, sir."

The cab drove off with a short woman of Asian descent in the back. Her hair was grey, but her face was young. We both only knew one person who looked like that and had the kind of power we had to be dealing with.

Ancient Mai, one of the oldest wizards on the Senior Council.

*****

We were sitting in the circle McCoy had made in the back alley with Mouse. There wasn't much point in going back to the warehouse just yet, since there was no way I could power the spell to send us home at the moment. We weren't saying much, just processing.

Ancient Mai and I had never gotten along. She was something of a hardliner and a stickler for procedure. When the Red Court had demanded the White Council turn me over in exchange for an end to the Vampire War, she hadn't hesitated to vote against me. She thought I was young and foolish. She thought more highly of Mouse than she did of me… but then, so did a lot of people.

Which just goes to show, she couldn't be all bad.

What the hell am I thinking? She's a traitor. Feeding information to our enemies and killing wizards who get in the way… but the way of what? She wanted Chicago. But why? There are a lot of other cities in the world, many of them far more important, far more ancient, far more surrounded by power.

And what did Peabody want? Not that it mattered all that much, since he was going to end up dead in a few short years, but it could be a bit of a clue. So much to think about, but so much we still didn't know… Something was just off about the whole thing. But I guess that's treason for you.

"We should go, Hoss."

"Where to, Sir? I'm not strong enough to go through that ritual again. Not yet."

"I know. But where're both hungry. And tired. And probably more than a little angry." I heard a loud thud behind my head, and Mouse and I both jumped. McCoy was lowering his hand from the dumpster he had just punched. There was a dent, and he was shaking his hand.

"Sir?" I said softly. I was angry, yes, but also confused.

He shook his head. His voice was very quiet. "She's a colleague, Harry. Oh, she's a self-righteous bitch, no question, but never thought she could… I mean, never really… I thought Alfred…" Alfred Langtry, the current Merlin, Head of the Senior Council, natural born politician and manipulator, and just about the most powerful mortal on the planet, had been the frontrunner for traitor in my thoughts, too. "…In my gut, I can't really believe it."

"I know how you feel, Sir."

"Do you?"

"Yes. I've been betrayed a time or two. There's a reason treachery is considered the highest crime. And I would know."

Ebenezar gave me a look somewhere between shame and sorrow. The whole reason he'd become my teacher was that my previous teacher, Justin DuMorne, had gone off the deep end and tried to enslave me. I'd fought back, killed him, and was put on probation under Ebenezar's supervision. Justin had been like a father to me for several years. "Of course you would, Hoss. I just… can't believe I've been so blind."

"This what we came here for, Sir."

His face fell. He nodded, sighed, and started walking back to the street. We walked in silence for a little while. We didn't bother with a veil. The crowds had thinned, but in a city like Chicago, everything is relative. We had to stop and wait for some people, move around others, and shove past still more.

Once the crowds thinned, and we were within eyeshot of the warehouse again, I opened my mouth and words I wasn't thinking came out. "Why here?"

"What?"

"I… I'm not sure, Sir." But then I latched on to what my subconscious had been shouting at me. "Why here? Why not just have a conversation in Edinburgh? The Hidden Halls have to be the most secure place they could have found. Peabody was the record keeper for the Senior Council. If either of them went into the other's chambers, no one would even blink. And you can't tell me Ancient Mai wouldn't be able to secure her own apartment against eavesdropping."

McCoy stopped walking. When he looked at me, there was a glint of fire in his eyes. "You're right. You're absolutely right, Hoss. I knew something was rubbing me the wrong way about this. If it was Mai, they wouldn't have come here just to have a conversation."

"So, was there another reason?" My brain was on fire, now. "Of course there was. Either they had to do something," I started.

"Or they had to meet someone else," McCoy finished. "Or at least Peabody did. Now I think about it, we were a ways away, and under a veil. We only got a glimpse…"

I was nodding as we continued to the warehouse. "It's entirely possible that wasn't Ancient Mai. I mean, I don't really have a baseline to compare her against. Never seen her with my Sight." I opened the door to the warehouse and Mouse all but ran inside the massive, candle-lit area. "But that could have been a shape-shifter, a faerie, a skinwalker - "

"It could have been many things, Wizard Dresden."

I froze. So did McCoy. Mouse, however, bounded over to the Gatekeeper and greeted him happily. That instantly killed my apprehension. Mouse is like a living evil detector.

"Rashid," McCoy said. We walked over, and they traded grips. "What are you doing here?"

"Delivering a message."

"From who?" I asked.

He turned his deep, mysterious hood to me. If I could have seen his face, I'm sure he would have been giving me a mysterious look. And of course, he had to say the most damned mysterious thing possible. "Why, from you, Wizard Dresden."