Chapter 10

I looked at the man who had just saved my life, and couldn't help but wonder what it was going to cost me.

If the others' reactions to him were of any indication, the guy was serious trouble. Even Ortega seemed to know of him, although thankfully Susan and Lacuna looked as puzzled as I felt. Still, four out of six people reacted as if Death himself had just walked into the room.

But you know what they say about beggars and choosers.

"I guess I have a second," I said, turning to the Archive.

"Harry," Mac said, his voice an urgent tone of warning.

"What, Mac?" I spat, turning on him in an instant. "What are you going to tell me? That this guy is bad news? That he's dangerous? That I shouldn't trust his oh-so-timely arrival?" I threw my hands up. "I'm not an idiot."

"You don't know what he is," Mac said, his voice hard and his look harder.

"Mr. Dresden," Nicodemus said, slowly walking forward. His posture was relaxed and disarming, perhaps for my benefit, or perhaps for the others. "You have every right to heed the barkeep's warning."

"And yet I have little choice but to ignore it," I replied, my suspicious gaze returning to the man.

Nicodemus gave a slight inclination of his head, acknowledging the point. "All too true."

I looked back to the Archive. "So let's get this over with."

The little girl's face remained passive, but I noticed her eyes remained on Nicodemus. "Very well. You may consult with your second for a moment, to express your desires for the duel."

Ortega led Susan to a far corner, while Kincaid backed the Archive up, putting more distance between them and the new arrival. Mac stayed close to the bar, where I was fairly certain he kept a shotgun loaded and ready. Only Lacuna stayed close, foolish like her lord and master.

I turned to Nicodemus, who settled onto a stool, and took a sip from Susan's discarded beer. "Ah. A little too healthy for my taste," the man said, pushing the bottle away with one finger as he fixed his gaze on Mac.

"So who are you?" I asked, not getting any closer to the big bad wolf.

"As I said, you may call me Nicodemus," the man repeated. His eyes slid to mine. "Although I believe you wish to know what I am."

"Great. Another grammar Nazi," I grumbled. "Okay, what are you?"

"I am a Knight of the Blackened Denarius."

I blinked at the man. "Of course you are."

Nicodemus gave me a disarming smile. "Shall we agree to be honest with one another?"

"Sure, Nick," I said, carefully sitting on a stool, but keeping one between us. "Tell me all about how I can trust you."

"Oh, you can't," the man said with wry smile. "You would be foolish to."

"Well, that's refreshing," I replied.

"As the others would surely warn you, I am a loathsome being," Nicodemus said, his eyes drifting to Mac again. "A mortal that has given himself over to a Fallen angel, who is bent on world domination, or something equally ridiculous."

"Alright," I said. "So lets say you're a bad guy. Why are you helping me?"

"I have my reasons," Nicodemus replied.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" I asked. "Because I've killed two of your comrades in the last twenty-four hours, and I'm not opposed to going for the hat trick."

Nicodemus just smiled. "Not quite, Mr. Dresden. While you did get the better of Ursiel and his host Rasmussen, I am pleased to say that Deirdre is still alive and well." His head tilted to one side. "Although she's not pleased with you at the moment."

"I imagine not," I replied, guessing he was referring to Lady Hydra. "What, she didn't enjoy living my reenactment of the Titanic experience?" I shrugged. "Everybody's a critic. I blame the movie for misconceptions."

"What makes you think she wasn't there for the first one?" Nicodemus asked in all seriousness.

I didn't even know where to begin with that, but Nicodemus let it go regardless. "She is unhappy with you, but she will get over it."

"She will, will she?" I asked. "And why is that?"

"Because you're going to get us what we want."

A cold feeling that had nothing to do with the Winter Knight mantle spread over me. "Fuck."

"Yes indeed," Nicodemus replied, enjoying the moment when I realized he had me over a barrel. "Well and truly."

Nicodemus was clearly working with the other Denarians. They wanted the Shroud, and had been willing to kill several times in order to get it. They'd even maneuvered me through a proxy to search for it, and I'd led them to it once already.

And now he had me by the short hairs. As my second, I was dependent on him until the duel was over. Seeing as that wouldn't be until the following night at the earliest, I'd be under his thumb until then.

He wanted the Shroud. And I was going to have to give it to him.

"Let's say I get the damned blanket," I said, growing frustrated with the entire situation. "What's to keep you from skipping out on the duel?"

"Obviously you will need to retain it to ensure my cooperation for the duration of this affair," Nicodemus said lightly. "After which, you will hand it over to me."

"If I recall correctly, I just need you for this meeting," I observed. "I can tap another second before the fight."

"True," Nicodemus said, his smile as dark as his shadow. "But we have been following you. We know those that you would turn to."

"Oh yeah?"

Nicodemus's smile faded. "Do you really think your pet lycanthrope would stand a chance against us?" he asked. "What do you think would remain of her pack when we were through?"

My blood ran cold as I pictured Deirdre cutting a swath through the Streetwolves. They were stronger and faster than humans, but only barely. They wouldn't stand a chance against one of the Denarians, much less a handful.

"Not to mention what would happen to your friend Michael and his family," Nicodemus continued coldly. "I understand they lost a child not that long ago. I wonder what they would feel upon losing another, because of you."

A flash of guilt made my anger worse. At his threats, the mantle inside me thrashed and raged. It wanted to freeze the man's blood in his veins and shatter him like glass. It wanted to call up an arctic wind to shred his flesh from his bones. It wanted to trap him within a glacier, leaving only his head free, so that he would be alive to feel the agony of frost bite as it rotted his limbs.

It took everything I had to hold it back.

"All of that would be avoidable, of course," Nicodemus said lightly. "Simply give me your word, and no one need die."

"Just like that?" I growled out.

"Well," the man said, his head tilting slightly. "I'm going to have to insist that you swear upon your power."

That sent more chills down my spine.

As a wizard, my power was directly tied to my word. If I broke my vow, and did it enough, I could lose the ability to use magic altogether. I'd nearly done just that several years back, when I'd broken a pact with my godmother.

And now, with my life on the line, this Nicodemus character was going to make me gamble with something just as valuable.

"No need to worry, Harry," Nicodemus said reassuringly. "So long as you hold up your end of the bargain, I will hold to mine. I will act as your second, and you will deliver the Shroud to me immediately after the duel has concluded."

My lips curled as I tried to see a way out of it. Buying more time, I looked over the Denarian. My eyes caught on his tie, which turned out not to be a tie at all. It was just a thin length of rope, fashionably tied in a noose around his neck.

"How immediate is immediate?" I asked.

Nicodemus arched an eyebrow. "What does it matter to you? What use do you have for that dirty old rag?"

My eyes drifted over to Susan, who was sending a worried glance my way. "I already promised a priest that I'd give it to him. Breaking one vow for another isn't going to do me any good."

Nicodemus just smiled a small smile. "I'm sure we can come to an arrangement."

"It is time," the Archive announced. "I would speak with the seconds."

Nicodemus turned back to me, his face losing any sense of humor. "Swear it on your power, now, or I walk away." One corner of his lips quirked up. "And be specific."

My jaw clenched, as every fiber of my being resented being manipulated and used. But I didn't have a choice in the matter.

"I, Harry Dresden, swear upon my power, that I will recover the Shroud of Turin stolen by the Churchmice, and I will deliver it to you, Nicodemus, upon the completion of the duel." I did my best to ignore the pending sense of doom that settled over me as I spoke. As if my words had invoked the Doom of Damocles over my head yet again, this time of my own volition.

Nicodemus's smile returned, clearly feeling no such qualms. "See? That wasn't so hard. Now what are your choices for weapon?"

"Magic," I replied somewhat grumpily. "Will, if the first is refused."

"I'm sure it will be," Nicodemus said. "Excuse me."

At that, the Denarian stood, and walked across the room to join Susan with the Archive and Kincaid. The bodyguard tensed as Nicodemus grew closer, but the Denarian didn't spare him a second glance.

"Harry," Mac said as he approached. Lacuna and I turned to look at him, finding him tense and worried. "Please don't do this."

"Are you going to step up, Mac?" I growled. When he didn't reply, I knew his answer. "Do you see anyone else stepping up for me, Mac?"

"There are others," he said softly. "You know that. They'd be here if you asked."

I turned away. Apparently he hadn't heard Nicodemus's threats. "There's no other choice."

"It's alright to ask for help," he said gruffly, quickly exceeding the entire word count of our relationship. "There are those that will always give it."

"You know what, Mac?" I said, turning back to him. "I think you need to wake up. There's no-one else. Those that I'd count on aren't any more trustworthy than Nick is."

"You don't mean that."

"Don't I?" I asked, my voice growing hot. "Murphy, you remember her? She threw me under the bus as soon as the going got rough. Michael knew my life was in danger, and didn't tell me. The Alphas turned away from me while I was on the run, and never looked back."

I wasn't entirely sure Mac even knew who they all were, but that didn't matter. Those that I had counted as my friends had betrayed me in one way or another.

"So you're choosing to trust him?" he said, looking to Nicodemus.

"No, Mac," I said as I stood. "I'm choosing to trust no-one."

It didn't take all that long for them to finish making the arrangements for the duel. Once it was done, the others were quick to leave.

Ortega and Susan were first out the door, if only because the Archive was delayed as she made sure to thank Mac for the use of his establishment. Then she and Kincaid were gone, with the latter watching Nicodemus until the door shut behind him.

I gave them a minute, and then headed out, Nicodemus at my side.

"It shall be a duel of wills," he informed me we walked into the parking lot. "Tomorrow just after sundown, at the United Center."

"Oh for fuck's sake," I mumbled. "Are we going to sell tickets? Maybe invite the press to cover it?"

"I would think not," he replied. He briefly met my eyes. "Tomorrow, then. Do what you wish with the Shroud until the duel is concluded, but make sure it is close at hand."

"Why?" I asked, my eyes narrowing. "Is time of the essence?"

"Isn't it always?" he replied, before walking toward the street. A black limo had pulled up as we spoke, and a man from the front jumped out to open the door for Nicodemus.

"How did you arrange this?" I called out, unable to help myself.

The Denarian turned back. "I'm sorry?"

"How did you do this?" I asked, gesturing back toward the pub. "Making sure I didn't have a second. Making sure I would be forced to help you."

Nicodemus studied me for a moment. "This was not of my doing, Mr. Dresden," he finally said. "I simply kept tabs on you. When the opportunity presented itself, I took advantage."

I looked at him doubtfully. "Really? You weren't pulling strings?"

The Denarian offered what almost looked like a sad smile. "No. You did that all on your own."

And with that, he climbed into the back, and then they were gone.

I turned to look at Lacuna, who was stoically awaiting my orders. "Is he right?"

The fairy looked to me, but I quickly turned away. "Never-mind." I headed toward the car, not wanting to hear her say it.

I already knew the answer.

A short time later saw us arriving at the Marriott hotel in downtown Chicago. After the debacle with using a cab, Sía had lent me the old AMC Gremlin to get around town in. I'd borrowed it a few times over the years, and each time I vowed it'd be the last. It was cramped and uncomfortable, but at least it got me where I needed to go.

Lacuna spent the ride apologizing profusely for her mistake. She'd been blind-sided by the Archive's interpretation of her servitude, and seemed ready to throw herself on her steel-bladed sword if I said the word.

Which I didn't. It was just as much my fault as hers. I should have seen the potential conflict, but instead had brushed off Mab's edict as simply restricting me from asking someone like Cat Sith to act as my second.

No, if you're wondering. He's not that kind of Sith. If anything, he's worse.

By the time we reached the Marriott, I'd finally convinced Lacuna that killing herself wouldn't do me any good. Instead I sent her off to complete her task, telling her to be ready for the next step in our plan. She disappeared in a flash, leaving me alone in the parking garage.

As I headed for the front door, I had to pass by the line of limos parked out front. It seemed that most had already delivered their rich and famous passengers, while a few stragglers were still arriving despite the event having already started over an hour prior.

I presented one of the tickets Sía's people had obtained for me, and then stepped into the building. I could feel Gard's wards as I passed through them, but there was nothing to do to avoid them. One of Lacuna's scouts had confirmed that Marcone's witch had warded every entrance, including the emergency exits on the roof. There was no getting in without passing through the wards.

The good news was that they seemed to be designed specifically to detect mortal practitioners, rather than restrict them. There was no way Gard could have set up a false threshold on such public ground. But it meant that someone somewhere knew the moment that I passed into the building.

That was fine. When you're as tall as I am, people tend to notice you anyway.

I cut my way through the crowd, noting several famous faces amongst the masses. There were politicians, celebrities, and even a few athletes from the local teams. The heights of the latter helped make me not stand out quite as much, but I was still a head taller than almost everyone else present. Not even the presence of my hat earned a second glance; a Stetson doesn't stand out all that much when there's a Texas oil baron wearing a ten gallon hat in attendance.

In almost no time at all, a blond with thick glasses wearing an emerald green dress picked me out of the crowd. I had to do a double-take, despite knowing of the disguise in advance. "Wow, you look good."

"Thanks," Sía replied, her gold-flecked green eyes sparkling at the honest compliment. They matched the dress perfectly, and despite the situation, the mantle within me started thinking of other things. I ignored it as I listened to her without making it obvious we were together. "I like the beard."

Figuring that the unkempt wizard look wouldn't help any of the situations I found myself in, I'd made an effort to tidy up my face. Sía had made offhand comments now and then about how she preferred men with beards, which is probably why I'd taken to letting it grow out.

Now that it looked neat and proper, it was beginning to grow on me.

Ba-dump ching.

"I thought you might," I said while looking around. A woman passing by thought I was talking to her, and gave me a wide-eyed look as she preceded past me. I winked, just for good measure.

"How did things go at the meeting?" Sía asked, mingling

"Worse than I could have imagined," I replied, keeping my eyes on the crowd rather than her. "I take it the deal hasn't gone down yet?"

"No," she replied. "Not unless Marcone let someone else handle it. The blond has been with him all night."

"I doubt he'd trust anyone else with this," I said, until a lance of doubt buried itself in my gut. "Unless I'm wrong, and he's not involved."

Sía shot me a look. "You said Lacuna's watcher followed the thieves to this hotel."

"They did," I replied. "And the blood tracking spell led me here as well. They're somewhere in the building." My eyes played over a group posing for a photo with a local basketball player. "But that doesn't guarantee Marcone is the one buying."

"Even if he was, he might not be anymore," Sía said softly, which drew my eyes around. When she saw my intense gaze, she added, "Moss got wind earlier, while you were heading for the meeting. The thieves freaked out about the thing at the harbor."

"So?"

"So they think their buyer tried to double-cross them," she replied. "In response, they let word get out that the Shroud is up for grabs." Green eyes met mine. "They've turned it into an auction."

"Son of a bitch," I said, shocked. "Maybe I can just buy the damn thing."

"You have that much money?" she replied, a dark eyebrow arching up.

"No," I replied. "And the Queens would likely skewer me if they found out I was using their resources on something like that. But it beats the alternative."

"Something tells me you wouldn't be that lucky," Sía replied, a smile curling her lips.

"Don't I know it," I replied. "Still, when is the auction taking place?"

Sía subtly checked her watch. "According to what Moss heard, less than half an hour from now." Before I could ask, she nodded toward a hallway. "There's a smaller ballroom where the buyers are supposed to gather."

"Then I guess— shit," I said, spotting a trio heading our way. Sía glanced out of the corner of her eye, and started to turn to leave, trying preserve her anonymity.

"No need to leave, Ms. MacTire," Gentleman John Marcone said as he came a stop before me, his own green eyes as flat as a snake's as he pinned me with his gaze.

"My people will see to you."