I'm Thomas Raith, vampire, older brother and babysitter of Harry Dresden, wizard.

If you think I'm kidding, you've never met my brother.

Leaving aside the zombie dinosaurs, Harry is really good at getting himself into trouble. I do have to admit that he's also usually good at getting himself out of trouble (that's where the zombie dinosaurs come in) but if I don't keep tabs on him then there's no telling where the inevitable fiery explosion will come from. And there's always a fiery explosion. Trust me.

I'd being living with my brother for about ten months, and in that time I'd learned that if he isn't home before sunset he's probably in trouble. Sunset had been two hours ago. I called Lieutenant Murphy and he wasn't working on a case for SI (aka Chicago's monster task force) so I had to decide if I was going to wait in the apartment with Mister (Harry's cat the size of a wild boar) and Mouse (Harry's dog the size of a horse) or if I was going to go looking for the explosion so I could make sure Harry didn't get himself killed.

The door opened just as I was putting a leash on Mouse so we could leave. Mister ran past me and collided with Harry once he was past the threshold, nearly knocking him over.

"Good to see you too, Mister." Harry scratched the purring monster cat behind the ears. "Hi, Thomas."

"Harry," I said. "You're late."

"A wizard is never late," Harry said. "He arrives precisely when he means to."

I crossed my arms. "You're not Gandalf."

Harry shrugged. "Got someone I want you to meet." He turned around and spoke to someone outside. "Lauren, Spike, come in."

That should have been my first clue that something was up. Harry doesn't invite just anyone into his apartment. As a wizard, he knows the kind of power that lets people hold on to, and he has enough enemies that letting people have power in his home is a big deal.

"Thanks ever so," a man with a Cockney accent said. "Come on, niblet. You can play with the sparkles later."

"I'm not a niblet. All the niblets are kids," a woman said.

The woman walked in first. She was young, young enough to still be called a kid even if she didn't want to be. She had shoulder-length brown hair and big brown eyes that sparkled as she looked around. The man half a step behind her was a little bit older, a little bit taller, and looked infinitely more dangerous with his leather duster and the scar bisecting one eyebrow. Mouse looked at them and tilted his head, looking very confused. Mister hissed and disappeared into the bedroom.

"Puppy!" The woman, Lauren, grinned. Mouse apparently decided that he liked her because he didn't whine even a little when she gave him an uncomfortable-looking hug.

The man, Spike, raised an eyebrow. "You didn't mention anything about a Foo Dog, mate." His gaze drifted from Mouse and Lauren to me. "Or being roomies with a White Court vamp."

I carefully hid my surprise behind a relaxed smile. I didn't know how he knew that. Sure, I'm devilishly handsome, but it should take a bit more than that to come to the conclusion that Thomas equals White Court.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," I said. "I'm Thomas." I held out my hand knowing full well that he wouldn't shake it.

Spike snorted. "Good, I like having the power." He didn't shake my hand.

Lauren didn't look up from giving Mouse belly rubs. "Spike, be nice."

"I'm always nice." Spike turned to Harry. "Who's this bloke?"

I had the same question. I turned to Harry and raised an eyebrow.

Harry sighed. "You know, I'd say that we should sit down, but none of you are going to listen, are you?"

"Nope," I said. "Spill."

Harry looked over to where Lauren was playing with Mouse. "Thomas, meet your niece."

"What?" I asked, echoed by Spike asking the same question. "How did that happen?"

Harry shrugged. His cheeks turned pink. "The usual way, I assume. I don't exactly remember."

"Your brother is Lilith-spawn?" Spike chuckled. "Oy, niblet, looks like you can't make fun of Harris anymore."

"Huh?" Lauren looked up at Spike. "But I like making fun of Xander."

Spike grinned. "Don't we all."

I dragged Harry as much out of earshot as possible given the size of the room. "Harry, that girl can't be more than ten years younger than you."

"Eleven," Harry corrected. "She's eleven years younger than me."

I grimaced. "So you can see why this is..."

"Odd?" Harry suggested. "I know. I don't know how it happened, but we have the DNA tests to prove it. Her mother was a pretty powerful witch. There's about a dozen ways she could have made Lauren without even meeting me."

That was a surprisingly comforting thought. Did I like that some witch had magicked together her DNA with my brother's? No, but it was better than the alternative.

"You didn't miss much," Spike said from across the room. "Mummy dearest was completely round the twist, from what I've heard, and the sister isn't much better."

I stared at Spike. "So, either you're not human or we were speaking a lot louder than I thought we were."

"Or I've got really good hearing," Spike said.

I rolled my eyes. "You came here with Harry. The odds are against you being human."

Harry denied that, but I can count on one hand the number of friends he has who are purely human.

Lauren bounced to her feet and crossed her arms. "Spike has a soul."

"Uncle Tommy's not saying I don't." Spike paused and turned to look at me. "You wouldn't happen to be Thomas Raith, would you? The bastard son."

I shrugged. "I prefer black sheep." I'm also not technically a bastard, by family definition.

Spike laughed. He didn't stop laughing for several minutes. "That's brilliant. All we need is a Skavis cousin and we've got the full set."

I had to wonder who they knew who was related to a Malvora. Probably the Harris guy Spike had mentioned.

"I don't like Raiths." Lauren narrowed her eyes at me. "Raiths are bad."

Spike's eyes widened and he stepped between Lauren and me faster than any human could. "Let's not get trigger-happy, Elphaba."

"I don't like Raiths," Lauren repeated.

"I know your ex did a number on you, but Uncle Tommy's a friendly," Spike said slowly. "Alright? No mojoing him."

Lauren was silent for a moment. Then she said, "Okay." and went back to playing with Mouse.

Spike sighed. "I said we should have just knocked them out. Would have been easier than playing babysitter." He sat down at the table and sighed again.

"Knocked who out?" I asked. I sat down across from Spike.

Spike looked at Harry. "You sure we can trust this one?"

Harry took off his coat and tossed it onto the back of the couch. "He's my brother."

Spike rolled his eyes and muttered something about someone named Andrew. Harry glared at him.

"You're the one the Slayer will murder if the White Court gets any more of a hold over us," Spike pointed out.

The Slayer. Empty Night.

"You work with the Slayer?" I asked slowly. "The Vampire Slayer."

Spike smirked. "For almost ten years now. She's found of your brother."

Well, that was probably good for Harry, not so good for me. The Slayer is about the only mortal being that can kill a White Court vampire as easily as she does any other monster. The only reason she usually doesn't is that we try to stay off her radar. I'd never met one, but I'd heard the stories. They say the current Slayer doesn't feel fear.

"They just stopped the world from ending," Harry said. "How many times is it now?"

Spike shot Harry a glare, but he replied. "The entire world, about eight times. This one left half our witches unconscious and the other half high as bloody kites shooting off spells every other second. I had to stop that one," he gestured towards Lauren, "from blowing up the house we were staying in."

"Andrew was being stupid," Lauren said.

"That doesn't mean it was okay to try to murder him," Spike shot back. He shook his head. "I can't believe I said that."

"Does that happen a lot?" I asked.

Spike shrugged. "Everyone wants to murder Andrew every once and a while, but nobody actually does it."

"Sounds like someone I know." The only difference is the people who want to kill Harry want him dead all the time.

Spike and I both looked at Harry. "Hey, not everyone wants to murder me," Harry said.

"Mate, your own daughter's wanted to kill you," Spike said. "I wouldn't be bragging if I were you."

"First time I met him, I think the only people who didn't want him dead were me and his dates," I said.

Harry muttered something that I didn't catch before going to the ice box and coming to the table with three bottles of Mac's ale. Mac makes the best beer in America, possibly the world, and he would kill Harry if he knew my brother was serving it cold.

See? Everyone has a reason to want to kill him.

"If you two are going to gossip like old maids, we may as well have drinks." Harry sat down and took a gulp of his beer. "Go on, I can take the embarrassment."

I grinned. With an invitation like that, what kind of brother would I be if I didn't take advantage of it?