I was too angry to think about subtlety, about not leaving signs that I'd been in this bastard warlock's house, and I simply went up the basement stairs two at a time, slammed open the door at top, and emerged into a dark kitchen. No sound came to my ears but the hum of the refrigerator and the dim sounds of traffic from outside.
I stopped in the middle of the kitchen, Cheryl Guildford behind me, Mouse beside her, but his head raised and sniffing the air. He let out a chuffing noise, neither a whine nor a growl, which made me feel better, and he took a step towards the front of the house, looked up at me, and chuffed again.
"Stay here," I said to Cheryl, and took a couple of steps that way. The doorway in front of me opened on a living room, and there was enough light coming through the curtains from the nearby streetlight that I could see two silhouettes on the couch, just heads and shoulders, but I was fairly sure they were women. They didn't move as I stepped into the room, so I willed light from my pentacle amulet, and got a good look at them.
Both were golden blond, both wore their hair long, and each one had a body that would have earned them a place in Penthouse Magazine, and a face that could have graced classier magazine covers. They wore only translucent— nearly transparent— Greco-Roman short robes, high-heeled sandals that laced up their calves, heavy bracelets with d-rings on them for conversion to manacles, and collars. Each had slightly elongated and very pointed ears, as well as eyebrows that swept gently upwards.
They blinked only about once every ten seconds, way less often than an average human— and they didn't react at all to the presence of a strange man, a strange woman, and a strange wooly mammoth— or at least half-dog, half wooly mammoth.
"Oh, crap," I sighed. I looked back and saw Cheryl and Mouse just inside the room, despite my having asked her to stay in the kitchen. I couldn't really blame her, strange place, scary circumstances. "Okay, I'm going to have to… to see if I can figure out what he did to them. I may… react strongly. Don't be scared, it's just… this is going to be ugly, and sometimes, that's hard to take."
"Can you… undo it? Maybe?"
"It may be repairable," I said slowly, "but I can tell you right now that I can't do the work. I'm all about raw power and throwing down with the nasty. If anything can be done for them, it's going to take a healer. Not my thing.
"Give me a second, here."
I used the Sight on them, saw what Glenn Corwin had done, and snarled "Empty night, but I want this guy dead!"
There was nothing left of either young woman's actual personality. Each had been programmed to please Corwin (and each other, since that pleased him), and to be totally submissive to his slightest desire. They were, to all intents and purposes, sex dolls that happened to breathe.
"I don't think there's any help for them," I said, shaking my head and turning off my Sight. "Still, I'll make a call, get someone here who can—"
I heard a sound, the slightest scraping of shoe on linoleum, and I shut down the light from my amulet, whipped around towards the kitchen, motioned Cheryl to come towards me, and wondered what the hell was wrong with Mouse, that he hadn't warned me of an intruder.
Cheryl came towards me, and Mouse came with her. He glanced over his shoulder as he came, and his tail started wagging. What the hell…?
Maybe Molly had gotten my message from her mother, taken my instruction to "find me" literally, and used a tracking spell. Once Cheryl was close to my side, where I could protect her, I called, very softly, "Molly?"
For a moment, no reply came, and I heard no sound at all; then came hurried footsteps, and a man's shadow in the archway. I had my left hand up, ready to slam energy into my shield bracelet, when I heard, "¡Madre de Dios! Harry! You're back! Where the hell have you been, dammit? You think I like playing regional commander to the whole damned United States?"
Crap. This was not supposed to happen, not yet.
"Hey, Carlos, lighten up," I said, bringing my light back up to reveal Carlos Ramirez, Regional Commander of the Wardens of the White Council for the western half of the U.S.— and responsible for the whole magilla in my absence. "You're big enough to ride my dinosaur, you're big enough to do my job, okay?"
Carlos laughed aloud, strode forward, and embraced me like a long-lost brother, thumping me on the back and grinning like a madman. We'd been friends since the night we met, and he'd ridden a zombie-Tyrannosaurus Rex that I'd animated to ride and use against some deeply nasty necromancers who were trying to kill a whole bunch of people so that they could become gods.
"Where the hell have you been, man?" Carlos asked as he gripped my shoulders and looked me over. "I was actually starting to worry, 'mano."
"It's a long, long story, Carlos," I said, shaking my head and grinning at him. "You won't believe a lot of it, but that's okay, I brought proof.
"Listen, this young lady here? She's been a captive of the warlock that lives here, and I'd like to get her clear.
"What brings you here, anyway, man?"
"The Gatekeeper," Carlos said with a roll of his eyes. "He sent me a message, said that there was a warlock here that would take more than the local wardens— he even pluralized it, man— could handle alone. He said the guy's bad and nasty, and he said something that maybe you can make sense of, cause I couldn't."
"Tell me," I said, thinking that Wizard Rashid, called 'the Gatekeeper,' one of the Senior Council, had rarely done anything but help me.
"He said that this kid was like cells. I tried to reach him to ask about that, and he just… wasn't available." Carlos shook his head and sighed. "With the warlock not actually living here any more, it could be hard to find him."
"Not living here…?" I asked, puzzled, even as I solved the puzzle of 'like cells,' though I kept the answer to myself for the moment.
"Oh, come on, Warden Dresden," Carlos said, giving me a look that said I'd gotten old and senile. "You're standing there in the light of your magic, inside what's supposed to be a home. Threshold? Not invited in? Why else do you have magic right now, if the guy hasn't abandoned this place as his home?"
Oh. Right. I'd been so mad that I hadn't realized that. Duh!
"Crap," I sighed, and admitted, "you got me, Carlos."
"No surprise there," Carlos said. He tilted his head sideways at Cheryl and said, "Who's your friend?"
"Oh, sorry," I said. I turned to see Cheryl Guildford standing and watching Carlos and I as though we were insane, but not dangerous, her hand resting lightly on Mouse's back. "Carlos Rivera, wizard, meet Cheryl Guildford, former prisoner of the warlock that lived here."
They shook hands, and I was surprised to see Carlos do no more than glance at her appreciatively, rather than start the usual subtle staring and unconscious preening that he did in the presence of a beautiful woman that he didn't know was attached to someone else romantically. Cheryl, on the other hand, gave Carlos a long, appreciative looking-over.
"Hey, 'Los, this is bad," I told him. "There are a couple of corpses in the basement— looks like this Corwin kid is a wannabe biomancer. He tried to make one into a bird-woman, and the other into a cat-woman. Neither survived his attempts."
"Shit." Carlos looked sad and angry as he sighed. "Okay. So, any ideas on how to find the guy?"
"I have a couple of ideas," I admitted, nodding. "The guy's moved, sure, but not long ago, and he still comes back here, obviously. And if his biomancy— or the sex with the two living sex toys on the couch— gets messy, he probably showers here. And uses the bed. Also, he's probably not aware of tracking spells. All we have to do is find a hair too short and pale to be one of theirs—" I indicated the two mentally-destroyed women. "—and odds are I can track the guy with it."
"You want I should try to get help for those two?" Carlos asked, indicating Corwin's sex slaves.
"I… don't know if anyone can help them," I said, sighing and wiping a hand across my mouth in distaste. "But maybe Wizard Listens-to-Wind can do something, or the Gatekeeper himself, they're both big on the healing magics.
"Thing is… Carlos, I can't be here, and I hope that you can do this without mentioning me to them. Sounds like maybe Wizard Rashid knows I'm back, and is keeping it to himself. I need to stay quiet for a while yet, if I can."
"What's up, Harry?" Carlos asked, looking worried and a little apprehensive.
"I'll explain in a bit," I assured him. "Right now, I'm going to check for usable hair or something to track this shithead with, then take the young lady home and head back to my new office." I handed Carlos one of my cards, and said, "Meet me here as soon as you can. If I'm not there, go around to the side and ring the bell labeled number eight, and I'll let you in. I'll explain everything then, I promise."
"Okay, Harry," Carlos said, nodding. "Go on, man. I'll see to these two.
"Hey, if you see Molly, tell her I'm in town, but it's business for now, would you?"
I raised an eyebrow at Carlos, and said (with as much innuendo as I could cram into my voice), "Aaaaaaah. Yes, of course. 'Business for now,' huh? Innnnteresting."
Carlos actually blushed as he glared at me and said, "Shut up, old man. Just tell her."
"I will," I said, smirking openly. "I'll tell her— just to see if she blushes as much as you do."
"Get out of here, old man, before I decide to arrest you on charges of being an unbearable smartass," Carlos said, trying to scowl around an incipient smile.
"Later, Carlos," I said, and went looking for the bedroom. I found it, found a man's pocket comb with several short, pale, blond hairs in it, and wrapped it in my handkerchief to preserve those hairs. I came to the living room to find Carlos on the phone— fortunately, an older model— presumably talking to someone at the White Council's HQ in Edinburgh, and Cheryl waiting by the back door with Mouse.
I took her home— she lived in an apartment complex about a mile from Glenn Corwin's house— told her that she should be safe, but to stay inside and invite no strangers in for any reason for the next two or three days, gave her a card so she could call if she had any trouble, and went to my office.
Carlos came in about an hour after I got there, dropped into a chair across from my desk, accepted a cold can of Coke, and said, "Wizard Listens-to-Wind has taken them to Edinburgh. He says they aren't likely to respond to treatment, but that's not the same as saying they won't respond, so he's going to try."
"Sounds like him," I nodded, approving. "How is he? I know he got sick with the disease Arianna Ortega spread throughout Council headquarters."
"He's in pretty good shape," Carlos said, nodding. "Still a little too skinny, but he's putting it back on slowly.
"Now, why are you hiding out, Harry?"
Same old Carlos— not easily distracted from the important stuff.
"This is, as I said, gonna be hard to believe," I told him, sitting up and sipping from my Coke. "Fact is, Carlos, I really was dead— and I want to stay quiet until I find the son-of-a-bitch responsible for that and either kill them deader than hell or put them in jail— depending on whether they're magical or mortal."
Carlos stared at me for a long moment. He knew me pretty well, knew I wouldn't tell him I'd been dead if I hadn't been, or at least if I hadn't believed I had been. After a moment, he said, very, very softly, "You want to tell me how you came back, Dresden? Strikes me that could be really, really handy in our business."
"I'll tell you, 'Los," I said, nodding. "It's just that I don't think it'll help you."
I told him everything. His eyes went wide with shock when I told him about Maggie, and I could see his mind working, turning over why I hadn't told him about her and asked for his help right away. Then the look of hurt, upset that I hadn't trusted him with the knowledge of my kid, cleared, and I knew that he'd figured it out for himself; I couldn't have told him in the Edinburgh HQ, certainly not with Arianna Ortega there, and probably not even if she hadn't been. There were too many wizards there who just plain didn't like me, if any of them found out about her, she'd be in danger.
When I got to the part about meeting Buffy, Xander and Dawn in the Nevernever, Carlos's eyes gleamed with delight, and he actually interrupted me to say, "Damn, I wish you'd met her before we went after those two White Court vampire assholes who were playing serial killer, Harry. We could have used her that night!"
"You're telling me!" I agreed, and went on with the story.
When I told Carlos that Maggie was with the Carpenters, staying with them, but that I could and did see her several times a week, he understood something important. He understood that I trusted him completely, and that wiped away any sting from my not having told him initially.
"Damn, Harry," Carlos said when I'd finished the tale. He raised his Coke to me. "Man, that's— you're pretty damned lucky, 'mano, and no mistake."
"I'll drink to that," I said. "So, you and me against the warlock?"
"And Molly, once she checks in," Carlos said, shaking his head. "Harry, she's gotten scary-good at using what magic she knows best offensively, and never mind that it isn't exactly the sort most people think of as offensive magic. Add in that she's a defensive genius, and I want her along."
"Uh-huh," I said, and smirked at him. "And never mind that after the business part of the night is over, you can—"
"Would you shut up?" Carlos asked, blushing again. "I mean, seriously, man, what are you, twelve?"
"Thirteen," I corrected with dignity. I grinned at him, and said, "In all seriousness, Carlos… I approve. You guys make a good couple."
"Yeah, well," Carlos said, smiling and looking pretty darned happy. "When it comes time to meet her mother, will you come along? After all the stories you told me about the lady, I want backup."
"You bet," I said. "She's mellowed, anyway.
"Hey, look, I'm getting kind of—"
The street door to the outer office jingled, and I leaned sideways to see the reason I'd been about to tell Carlos that I was worried stroll in. Murphy saw me, nodded, and came to the office. She saw Carlos, smiled— then looked at me worriedly.
"It's okay, Murph," I said, waving her to the other chair. "I ran into him on the job, and he understands about my wanting to keep a low profile."
"Good," Murphy said, shaking Carlos's hand when he stood up. She sat and said to me, "I got the Fowlers on a plane to Buffalo, watched it until it was out of sight. What have you found out?"
I sketched out my evening for her, and when I said something about Rashid saying that this kid was 'like cells,' Murphy looked as puzzled as Carlos had.
"I know what he meant, and it's not good," I told her and Carlos. "Murphy, you remember the guy that Helen Beckitt and her hubby were working with to make the three-eye drug so they could destroy Marcone?"
"Yes, it was— oh." She looked thoughtful. "You think this Wizard Rashid meant that this warlock is like Victor Sells?"
"I do," I said, nodding regretfully. "Which proves that Rashid knows I'm back, knew that Carlos would run into me, and I'd tell Carlos about that asshole— and how I'm pretty damned certain that Sells was trained up to the point where he'd be seriously powerful, a real threat… by the Black Council."
"Crap," Carlos said, flopping back in his chair and sighing harshly at the ceiling. "That bunch of pendejos again?"
" 'Fraid so, man," I said, sighing myself. "So basically? This is gonna be an ugly fight, once we find him, which, now that Murphy's here, I'm up for."
I stood, walked out of my office, and almost walked into Dawn, who was coming my way holding a sheaf of printed papers.
"Harry, I'm glad I caught you," Dawn said, and I saw that she looked worried, and maybe a little sick. "I found that guy's profile online, but it's old, and I didn't find any fiction links, not at first. It looks like the guy wasn't so high up the ladder as you were, and could use a computer, or at least he used to be able too. He had a Facebook page, and it was pretty… weird, and who's your friend and why is he staring at me?"
"Sorry," Carlos said, and looked away, even as I chuckled and said, "Carlos Ramirez, Warden of the White Council, meet Dawn Sinclair, Watcher. Dawn, Carlos is a friend, and he knows not to broadcast that I'm back.
"And he's staring because he knows who you are and where you're from. Well, that and because you're kinda gorgeous, you know."
"Uh, thanks," Dawn said, smiling and blushing. "Hello, Warden Ramirez. Molly and I have gotten to be pretty close, so I know she'll be glad to see you."
Which made it Carlos's turn to blush. It was cute.
"Enough with the blushing," I said, but I was laughing as I said it, and they both glared cheerfully at me. "What did you find out, Dawn?"
"I did find some fiction, but I had to dig— he had his Facebook page linked to a Yahoo profile, that linked to an 'adult' social network site, and then from there to another, more… uh, more adult, and more slimy adult network, and there I found links to his fiction, which is hosted on an adult website that permits… well, if someone gets turned on by it, it seems to be allowed, and some of the categories, even, may give me nightmares, and okay, never mind that.
"Harry, all his stories there are about mind control, altering women from the 'lesser, human race' into elves, and even into more… uh, disturbing things. Animalistic races, and— and there was a bit in the last one, where he seems to have gone from 'story' to 'journal entry' or something…." She trailed off and flipped through pages for a moment, then said, "Here it is. A bit where he was 'noticed by a God who granted me more power than even I dreamed existed, and set me to my true work; returning the elves, my people, to the rule of the Earth, beginning in this squalid city where I have been imprisoned and laughed at.
" 'I will destroy them all, make them over in my own image, and I will begin with the women, for I would plant my seed, that the race of Elves will continue even should I fall to the Wardens.' "
"Okay, so he's a serious nutburger." I shook my head and sighed. "Thanks, Dawn. That's a definite help. Anything else?"
"Just one thing, and I don't know if it helps much," Dawn said, and riffled through the papers for a moment. "Here it is. He's moved— you look like you knew that— and he doesn't say where, exactly, but he does mention a couple things… here. 'I find it amusing to live in what once was squalor, and now is finery.' And later, he says, 'the moon in the lake is beautiful, and it inspires me— I will go make my concubines tonight, though I dare not house them here.' That was at the end of the last story he posted, which was almost four weeks ago."
"Okay, sounds like he's somewhere on or near the Gold Coast," I said, referring to the swankiest part of Chicago proper. "Near is more likely."
"Possibly one of the nicer places that have gone up where Cabrini-Green used to be," Murphy said, nodding her agreement. "The bit about squalor becoming finery would fit that."
"Good call, Karrin," I said, nodding at her. "Okay, let me try the tracking spell anyway— he doesn't have to be at home, after all."
I had a corner of my office actually set aside for small workings, had made a circle there by having a twined band of copper, silver and iron set into the floor. It wasn't near as nice as the one I'd lost when my old place burned to the ground— that one had tiny runes inscribed all around each of the three bands, and had cost me a fortune— but it was plenty for most works, and, once I was ready to 'go public' again, I could have it upgraded.
I took off my coat, sat in the circle, and did a basic tracking spell while Carlos went to the window and looked out at the street (he'd seen this, done it himself enough that it wasn't at all interesting to him) while Murphy and Dawn watched, and Murph, who'd seen me do this particular kind of spell at least a dozen times, kept up a quiet running commentary for Dawn, who watched in fascination.
I'd decided to actually go for a location this time, not just a direction, so I borrowed a trick from Mortimer Lindquist, an ectomancer I know. I had a map of Chicago spread out just outside my circle, and a tiny vial of copper dust— copper reacts well to magic— inside with me. When I broke the circle and released my will and the magic I'd gathered, I upended the vial, and the copper dust got snatched out of the air and tugged towards the map.
By the time I got to my feet and moved over to look down at the map, there was a tiny little ball of copper filings on the map, and it moved slowly along one of the streets on the map. I bent closer, careful not to touch the map, and watched as the ball proceeded east on Cullerton, towards the lake. When I announced that to the room, Murphy snapped, "Shit!"
"What?" I asked, worried. Murphy isn't one to overreact.
"Cullerton towards the lake means he's going towards Calumet," Murphy said, starting for her own office. "Fowler lives on Calumet, half a block north of Cullerton! How far is he from Calumet?"
"About six blocks, dammit," I said, straightening. "Carlos, you're with me. Murphy may need to be able to use her phone, so we let her drive herself.
"Dawn, call your sister on her cell, let her know trouble's heading her way, but that we're on the way. And tell her to be damned careful if the kid gets there before us, he's got some scary crap up his sleeve. If she wants to take Fowler and leave, that's fine, even preferable, tell her to call Murphy with where she's going."
"On it," Dawn said, reaching for the phone on my desk.
"Karrin, Carlos rides with me, so you can rely on your cell phone," I called. "Load up, Murph— this kid is a warlock, and he's got mind control and biological magic on his side. Take those things Molly made for you!"
"Already carrying them," Murphy called from her office. "I'll be right behind you."
(Since Murphy had been working with the Alphas and Molly to cover the town against threats from the supernatural while I'd been gone, Molly had made a couple of fairly simple, low-powered talismans for Karrin. One simply made Murphy more stealthy than she could already be, dulling any sounds she made, and increasing the depths of shadow around her. The other, though, was a general-purpose personal ward; it'd never stop the sort of magic that Carlos and I throw around, the loud, dangerous, flashy stuff like bolts of flame, lightning, or, in Carlos's case, pure entropy. But it would help against magic aimed at Karrin's mind or body, at least a little. Hopefully, it would help enough.)
Carlos and I piled into Captain Midnight, and he grinned in appreciation of the car again as I started off towards the lake.
"Harry, this car… you know, I kinda hope you need my help sometime when it's warmer— just so I can ride on the running boards while we go to the threat." I laughed and nodded, and Carlos added, "You let me do that one time, I'll drive next time so you can ride the boards."
"It could happen," I allowed. "Listen, this kid's pretty freaking scary, and I've never fought a biomancer before. You?"
"Once," Carlos said, nodding glumly. "Kinda sucked. Kid made me so sleepy I could barely move, and when I got past that, he gave me freaking hives all over. The itching was crazy, I could barely concentrate to cast a spell. It may not seem like much—"
"No, I get it," I told him. "The little stuff isn't so little, not when it affects your concentration.
"The mind magic— I got the new course on that after… after Morgan died. Wizard McCoy put me through it, made sure I had it down pat before he relaxed. You?"
"Captain Luccio ran most of us through it," Carlos said, nodding. "The Gatekeeper trained the rest of them, so it'd get done right away."
"Good." I sighed, glanced sideways at Carlos and said, "I'm glad I ran into you tonight, Carlos. Seriously."
"Don't go getting all mushy on me, Dresden," Carlos said— but he grinned and nodded as he said it. "You'll make me wanna vomit or something."
"No, you're tougher than that," I assured him. "I mean, I've seen you look in a mirror without vomiting, so…."
"Smartass."
"Damned straight."
I drove in silence for a while, and soon enough, I made the turn onto Cullerton, headed for the Lake as fast as I dared. (Captain Midnight was a BIG car, and he had mass enough that I didn't dare go too fast, for fear of not being able to stop when I needed to.)
We saw the warlock as we got within a couple of blocks of Calumet, and we both stared in disbelief as he crossed Prairie, a block before Calumet, and passed under the street light there.
The kid had done something to himself, obviously. His ears were pointed, he was slender and compact, but moved with a grace that didn't seem human. But that wasn't what made us stare.
What made us stare were the half a dozen… things that walked along behind him, like baby ducks following their mother.
They came in pairs, two of each thing, and some part of me that wasn't busy being horrified and nauseated decided that they were probably paired male and female, so that they could reproduce— not like that was likely at all, I doubted the kid could make biological adjustments on the genetic level.
But then again, maybe he could. Who the hell could tell?
The two creatures at the back of this little parade were based off of lions— I could tell that much from the shapes, and the way one of them had a mane. It's just that you don't expect to see lions covered in what looked like porcupine quills, only wider than quills, so they could have nasty-sharp edges as well as points.
In front of them walked a pair of things that looked like someone had taken a mongoose and crossed it with a freaking rhinoceros. The things stood about four and a half feet at the shoulder, were covered in thick, leathery hide like a rhino, yet moved along in that somehow graceful-yet-bouncy gait that was typical of a mongoose.
The front pair… they were the kind of thing that no one ever wants to see once, let alone twice.
Take a big, powerful primate like, oh, the Mountain Gorilla. Then cross it with something feline— like a jaguar, or maybe a leopard. Make it walk mostly upright, knuckling along on all fours only occasionally, give it spots on its fur— but make all four 'paws' into 'hands,' complete with opposable thumbs— and large, exaggerated claws, like a big cat's, only bigger.
"Holy crap," I said softly as I let Captain Midnight decelerate. "How the hell did he do that? How did he— that's not possible!"
"Apparently, it is," Carlos muttered. He gulped then said, "Well, we should probably get in front of him. You know, between him and this client of yours."
"Right," I said, and accelerated past the warlock and his menagerie, not looking his way. "And we should probably hope like hell that Murphy brought along a couple of assault rifles. Or a rocket launcher. I'd even take hand grenades."
"I got a couple of grenades," Carlos said, patting a largish pouch on his web belt. "But I hate to use them in a residential area."
"I hear that. But if it comes down to it, we may have to. I've never seen anything even remotely like that."
I shuddered as I made the turn onto Calumet, and I looked at house numbers. Larry Fowler lived in a very nice brick house that was sandwiched in between two others, with less than a foot between the walls of the houses. There wasn't really a yard out front— I hoped for the sake of the kids he'd mentioned that he had a back yard for them to play in— just a square of not-concrete that had a trio of evergreen trees growing in it, close to the house, and some other, now-beginning-to-awaken-from-dormancy plants in front of those. The house itself looked solid, sturdy, and kind of like a castle with stunted growth. On each of the two front corners of the house were round towers, like on a castle, and the place probably ran a half a million dollars or so.
"I hope he has homeowner's insurance," I muttered as I parked across the street from Fowler's baby castle. I saw the company car that Buffy had apparently taken sitting at the curb right in front of the house, and swore. I'd hoped she'd take Fowler and leave, but apparently, she'd decided to stay.
"Okay, Carlos— I don't think there's any way to do this that doesn't result in people seeing it." I took a deep breath and added, "Corwin must be doing something… maybe empathic, maybe… I don't know. Something that keeps people from calling the cops, maybe even makes them forget what they're seeing.
"But he'll probably have to drop that to fight. So… we're gonna have bystanders. And probably cops. Hell, maybe SI— Special Investigations, the branch of the CPD that Murphy used to work for."
"Think they'd be able to help?" Carlos asked, looking hopeful.
"Maybe with the critters, and almost for sure with crowd control— but if we call them in, some of them are gonna get hurt or killed." I closed my eyes for a moment, then shook it off. "No matter— we can't do it, neither of us has a phone.
"Murphy will be here any second— she'll call them if she thinks it's a good idea. We'll have to leave it at that."
"All right, so it's you and me on the Legolas wannabe." Carlos grinned fiercely and pulled a glove out of his belt, a heavy leather thing covered with steel plates. The gauntlet produced a shield of entropic energy that could, with a little extra energy shoved into it, be used as a weapon of sorts. "I'm ready to roll. You got everything?"
"Everything I've had time to re-make," I said, and I stepped out of Captain Midnight. I got my staff out of the back seat, took my blasting rod out of its holster, and stood ready with the staff in my right hand and the rod in my left. I shook out my shield bracelet, also on my left hand, and glanced over to see Carlos with his staff in his right hand, his shield gauntlet on his left, his Warden's sword (one of the last ones made by Captain Luccio before she was forced into a new body by a necromancer, and lost the ability to make them, at least until she could retrain herself) hanging from his belt, and a little smile on his face. I sighed and said, "You know, sometimes I think you like this part of the job too much. Other times, I know you like this part too much."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Warden Dresden," Carlos said, his eyes on the corner where Corwin should appear any second. "I'll stop liking the idea of kicking bad-guy ass and get old before my time so I can be just like you— but not until after this fight's over, okay?"
"Hey, I'm supposed to be the smartass on this team," I complained. "Get your own shtick!"
Carlos laughed aloud— and we both turned to look at Fowler's house when we heard the door open. I opened my mouth to tell Buffy to hurry up and get Fowler away before Corwin came around the corner— and stopped with my mouth open.
Buffy came out alone, dressed in the leather-and-plastic armor that she'd been wearing when I met her in the Nevernever, and sat down on the steps of Fowler's house. She had a big cloth shopping bag with her, and she set it down beside her, pulled out a bottle of diet Coke (I couldn't break her of that particular evil habit, just like I couldn't break Murphy of it— neither one of them ever carries an ounce of extra weight that I can see, and yet they live on Evil Coke), took the top off and took a swig. Then she pulled a pack of bubble gum out of the bag, took out a piece, and started chewing.
She never even looked at me and Carlos, despite us being right across the street from her.
I had no idea what she thought she was doing, but I still couldn't help but grin at how completely casual she seemed to be.
Then Corwin came around the corner, and Buffy looked right at me and made a motion like she was flipping something down in front of her face. I didn't get it, but fortunately, Carlos did.
"She wants us to veil ourselves," Carlos said, his voice full of disbelief. "Is she crazy?"
"Could be, but she's been at this a long, long time, 'Los," I said, and drew up my will for a veil. "I'll get visual, you get the other senses."
"Okay, but I don't care if she is the slayer, this is loco, Harry."
"Maybe so," I said, but I gave him my best crazy grin, and hit him with a Spanish phrase he'd used on me a few times. "Loco como un zorro, hermano.
"Crazy like a fox!"
So we sat and we watched as Glenn Corwin and his parade of monstrosities came up Calumet Avenue, and Buffy sat on the steps of Larry Fowler's house, chewing gum and occasionally blowing a bubble.
When Glenn Corwin reached the house, he stopped facing it— and simply stared at Buffy for a long moment.
"Hey," Buffy said casually, nodding at Corwin. "Nice costume, but Halloween's not for seven months or so."
Glenn Corwin had on black leather pants, a gray leather shirt cut peasant-style, complete with laces from the bottom of the sternum to the collar (undone, of course), a white cotton vest over the shirt, unbuttoned, black riding boots, and a swordbelt, complete with a long, straight, basket-hilted European saber.
"It's not a costume," Corwin said, his voice surprisingly pleasant. "It is who I am.
"Where is Larry Fowler?"
"Heck if I know." Buffy sat up and put one elbow on one knee, propped her chin on her fist, and asked, "Did it hurt to do that to your ears?"
"What? No, it didn't, I simply suspended nerve activity there while making the changes," Corwin said, now sounding a little flustered. "This is Larry Fowler's house, is it not?"
"Sure is," Buffy said, still sitting there like the Thinker. "You know, the eyebrows? A bit too much on the upsweep. Makes you look kinda gay. Not that there's anything wrong with being gay, but the rest of your look is pretty macho, so maybe you should work on those a little."
Over by Captain Midnight, Carlos and I were struggling so hard not to laugh at this exchange that I almost didn't see one of the upstairs windows ease open about a foot, and a rifle barrel ease out of it. Couldn't see much behind the barrel but a dark shape, but it was also a small one— Murphy had apparently parked elsewhere, and gotten into the house from another direction.
"So… you don't know where Larry Fowler is?" Glenn Corwin asked again. Buffy shook her head, and Corwin shook his head in irritation. "Then what are you doing here, human? And why are you dressed for Halloween?"
"I'm here because I'm one of the people he hired to protect him," Buffy said, sitting up straight and smiling a sunny-yet-dangerous smile. "When I got the call that you were headed this way, I sent Mr. Fowler off in a cab with specific instructions not to tell me where he was going— because you're what we're supposed to protect him from."
"We?" Corwin said, and looked around— but not up, not at all. "Who, exactly, is there besides yourself to face me?"
You know, I'd been with Carlos the last time I'd heard a straight line that good, too. Must be something to do with him.
He and I had the same idea, and we both dropped our veils at the same time. Since I was planning on not officially being here, Carlos was the one who virtually roared, "Glenn Randall Corwin! You are accused of violating the first, second, third and fourth laws of magic, and of being a warlock! Surrender now and save yourself a great deal of pain and humiliation!"
Corwin spun to face us, as did his pets, and he laughed aloud, and said, "Human wizards! You truly think you can defeat me and my pets? But you bring a girl to the fight, and she is no wizard— are you stupid?"
"No," I said, wincing at the thought of how Buffy was going to react to that statement. "But I'm pretty sure you are."
"And what makes you think that I'm stupid!" Corwin snarled, his chin thrusting itself out and his chest puffing up.
"You shouldn't turn your back on an opponent," Buffy said— from right behind him.
She'd walked up to stand maybe a foot from him while he was talking to Carlos and I, and when he spun around to face her, she simply gave him a roundhouse to the jaw that sent him sprawling in the street.
Even as his creatures made various hostile sounds and started to move, most for me and Carlos, but the two gorilla-cats for Buffy, I heard her say, "And you shouldn't call me a girl!"
Then the first of Corwin's critters reached me and Carlos, and it got violent.
