A/N: An enormous thank you to everyone who continues to read and review this series - it wouldn't continue without your support. Those of you who have read 'Changes' will note a few similarities between the book and this story, as it goes on. However, while certain elements of 'Changes' will work their way into the 'Broken' continuity, 'Changes' itself will be ignored. Hope you enjoy!

Broken Chains

I stood in the door to my apartment, waiting for my brother to say something. After several moments of tense silence, he did.

"Empty night, Harry. You look like hell."

"Yeah, well, I've had a bad month, Thomas." I wanted to tell him he looked awful, too, but of course he didn't. His fancy vampire powers didn't allow for that; Thomas looked good no matter what he was doing or what was going on around him. His hair was perfect and shiny and flowing. Not that I'm bitter or jealous. The bastard.

"You look like you haven't slept in three days."

"That's only because I haven't slept in three days."

"Can I come in?"

I ignored the question and glanced down at the unconscious man Thomas held by the scruff of his jacket. "Friend?"

"Officially, he's a bodyguard. In reality, he's a babysitter. Lara still doesn't trust me. Not completely."

"Wow," I said in a perfect monotone. "Mistrust and in-fighting among the vampires. Never thought I'd see the day."

His turn to ignore me. "Harry, can I come in?" A pause. "Please?"

Mouse, my pet dogasaurus, stepped up beside me, and gave Thomas an appraising look. Then his tail started wagging.

I trust Mouse's judgement more than my own, especially when I haven't been sleeping. I ran a hand through my hair, which was greasy and clumping, then scratched my unshaven chin. Then I stepped back and jerked my head to the side. "Alright. You pass the wag test."

He dropped the babysitter on the concrete, with a hollow thump I recognized. Then he stepped inside and scratched Mouse's ears.

"Did you use his head as a knocker on my door?"

"Had to knock him out somehow."

"Why?"

"I wanted to talk to you, privately."

"Thomas, we haven't spoken in four months. And I've been trying to get in touch with you. You've been ignoring me. And," I said, anger finally creeping into my voice, "you took Mom's medallion off. So I couldn't track you down."

"Okay, this is going to be awkward. Fine. I took it off because Lara asked me too."

"Just like that, huh?" I didn't even try to keep my voice even. I was angry, hurt, and happy to see him, all at the same time. I was also exhausted.

"Of course not. She insisted, in her oh-so-subtle way, with a few dropped hints here and there. She made it clear that if I was loyal to the Raith family, I obviously had no need for any ties to the Dresden family, literal or symbolic."

"Oh, so, you avoiding me all this time was to make your sister happy."

"To be perfectly honest, yeah." He crossed his arms. He was getting mad, too. Good. I could use a fight. Or at least a venting session.

Mouse looked back and forth between us, then turned and walked into my tiny bedroom. I could swear he was shaking his head as he went.

"So you just… cut me off? The guy who took you in? Your only brother?" Now my pointing finger came out. "Your only living connection to your mother?"

"Whoa, hey, hey! That's not fair!"

"Isn't it? Do you remember our soulgaze, Thomas?" That was stupid question; it's impossible to forget a soulgaze. Just like when a wizard looks on something with his Sight, the image is there forever. Unless a Jade Court vampire comes along, but that's a different story. "You remember the last message Mom laid out for both of us? To watch out for each other?"

"I remember, Harry!" And now his voice was rising, too. "I can't forget that."

"Well, you've been acting like it."

"Of course I have!" He stopped, bowed his head, and appeared to swallow his anger. Too bad. I was just getting revved up. Quieter now, "Cards on the table?"

I sighed, got myself under control, and sat down on my old sofa. "Sure." He sat down too, but didn't appear to know what to say next. "It's your metaphor; run with it."

He snorted, which he somehow managed to make look debonair. The ass. "Alright. The complete truth is, four months ago, I really didn't care."

My head rocked back like I'd been punched. I'd known it, of course, but to hear the words coming out of his mouth… well, it hurt.

"I was riding a high, Harry. My Hunger had never been so well fed. It gave me a feeling of… well, it's cheesy, but 'euphoria' is the only word for it. I mean, I was still me, I was still Thomas, or at least I thought I was. I just felt so good… everything I'd made a priority in my life up to that point… just seemed unimportant."

"Priorities," I said quietly. "Like family?"

He bowed his head again. "Yeah."

"I know you wasn't your choice, Thomas," I said, my voice still deadly quiet. "I know you were tortured, and almost died, repeatedly. But they found 6 dead girls the day after, man. Five prostitutes and a runaway."

"I know."

"You sucked the life right out of them."

"I know, Harry."

"And you were never even sorry."

"I know, Harry!" His fists were clenched, and his head was down, again. He punched his fists together, and they made a hollow clunking sound. Finally, he looked up again, though he wouldn't look me in the eye. "I'm sorry now."

We were quiet for a few minutes, while we both stewed and thought. Thomas cracked his knuckles; he was otherwise perfectly, inhumanly still. I consulted a Fallen Angel.

Lash? I'm too tired to think clearly at the moment. And I'm just a hair's breadth away from not giving a crap. What's your read?

The voice at the back of my mind, lovely and feminine, responded at once. His body language indicates he is genuinely upset. Conflicted. I have only your memories of him to consult, but I believe he may honestly be angry with himself.

Thanks.

"Alright, I said, calming down. "What changed?"

He shrugged. "I came down."

"That's not it. Not all of it. Last time we talked, you were thinking of people, all people, as nothing but food. Hell, that might have included me."

"You wouldn't have been my first choice. Bitterness has a bad taste to it."

My turn to snort, though it came out as an ugly noise. "Cards on the table, brother. What happened?"

He was quiet and still for a bit, then, with a faint smile, finally said, "Inari."

My attention sharpened instantly. "What about her?"

"She dropped by. Surprise visit."

"What is she now, 24, 25?"

"25, middle of September." He stood up and began to pace the length of my apartment, from the fireplace to my bedroom and back again. "She came home for her birthday. Wanted to surprise everyone. And she succeeded."

I relaxed a little, but not much. Inari was the only complete human being in the whole Raith family – literally. She'd fallen in love, real, honest, reciprocal love, before her inner demon, her Hunger, had taken control. As a result, it had died. "Her and Bobby?"

He smiled, stronger. "They eloped. Just before coming home, to share the news."

"I'm confused. What did she do to you?"

He sighed, a touch dramatically. "I'm not entirely sure. It's hard to put into words. Maybe it's just the way things lined up that day, like dominos of fate, or something."

"Wow. I thought I made bad metaphors."

"Do you want to hear this or not?"

I lifted my hands in surrender, and he continued. "Like I said, it wasn't any one thing, but several things. It was a shock seeing her again, and I mean, everyone loves her, in our… way. She's family. And she's never going to know what we are. Even if Dad, and Lara, hadn't said it, none of us would ever tell her. Seeing her happy – and she is happy, almost all the time – it makes the rest of us feel… good."

"You're sure none of you are feeding off her?"

He gave me a sharp look.

"Hey, it's a legitimate question. White Court vampires feed on emotions. Happiness is a pretty pure one."

He let out a steadying breath. "You're right. It is. It's also rare. But no, we didn't feed on her." He shook his head, stared at the hearth. "But seeing her happy, genuinely happy… I don't know. For two months straight, I'd been well fed, and feeling no pain. Then, she comes along, and for some reason, I remember that I'm the one who encouraged her and Bobby to date in the first place."

I softened a bit. "Must have been gratifying. Must have been great."

"You'd think so. Instead, it was… heartbreaking." He stared in silence for a few moments, looking deep in to the low-burning fire. "I didn't think about it. We were all just hanging around, happy and smiling, and I had that one thought, lurking in the back of my head, echoing around: She's happy.

"And it ate at me. I didn't even notice. But after a little while…" He turned to me, eyes wide and some confusion on his face. "Harry, I just felt… empty. Well fed, sure, but I wasn't happy. I got up to get a drink… and there was Justine, standing in the doorway."

Then I understood. Justine was the girl my brother loved, and she loved him back. Of course, love being antithetical to his Hunger, merely touching her would burn him, severely. It would also burn any other White Court vampire, which was why Lara, Thomas's oldest sister, kept her around as her assistant. During his 'high,' he'd put that feeling aside. Now, however, with all those thoughts of love and happiness already in his head…

He continued, "I left. Just got out of there. Went to my room, called for a girl…" He shook his head. "And she came to me, willingly. She wanted it. And I thought I did, too, but…"

"But you couldn't feed on her."

"Oh, I could. Believe me, the Hunger always wants to. It always could… but I didn't want to. I just kept thinking about Inari, and Justine, and how horrified or disappointed they would be. I finally remembered that the Hunger and I are separate. For the months before that, I wouldn't have cared, I would've just done what I wanted to, and shrugged it off…"

"But not that time."

"Not that time," he finished on a whisper. "I finally remembered why I didn't feed indiscriminately my whole life."

I stood up and went to my kitchenette, pulled two black bottles out of my old ice box, and gave one to Thomas. We clinked and drank. I didn't say anything stupid like, "Welcome back," or "I'm proud of you." I didn't put my hand on his shoulder, and I sure as hell didn't hug him.

But he understood.

It's a guy thing.

Half a beer later, Mouse had rejoined us, we were smiling, laughing, and talking about zombies – which isn't as strange as it sounds, in my family – when he asked an awkward question: "So, what's new with you?"

My smile withered and died. Then I upturned my bottle, drained it, took a deep breath, and told him.

"Well, I met the Jade Court, rescued the Archive from them, found out I'm immune to their memory-eating abilities because of Lash, who's back, by the way. Travelled back in time, discovered Titania is the force behind the Black Council.

"Then I made a deal with Mab and found out that He Who Walks Behind – and the four other Walkers - have been influencing Titania, and that Bob was Maeve's father. Mab took Bob, and Father Forthill, who it turns out is a Sidhe named Edimon.

"Murphy got fired because she shot the wrong drug-waste, and took a job working with Vince Graver.

"I got called up to the Wardens for some strikes against the Red Court, which meant I wasn't here, helping Molly train.

"She took her entrance exam to the White Council, but because she was on probation, failing meant she'd be executed, except when she failed, she escaped, and is now lost in the Winter Ways of the Nevernever. I spent almost 10 hours performing every tracking spell I could think of, and three that Lash knew, and never even got a hint of her.

"Three days ago, I had to explain to Michael and Charity what happened, and two days ago, I was relieved of my Wardenly duties, because I trained a warlock. I haven't slept much since. Another beer?"

Thomas was staring at me. "Um. Got anything stronger?"

"I wish."

"I… that's awful. About Molly."

"Yeah. Can't get so much as a murmur. Which means she's either dead, or hidden away pretty damn well."

"She's hiding," he said at once.

"What makes you so sure, Thomas?"

He snorted. "She learned from you. Running away and hiding should be second nature to her by now."

I gave him half a smile, then rubbed my eyes. "Oh, as a side note, you may have noticed the Blue Beetle is not in the driveway."

"Getting worked on again?"

"Sitting and rotting, for the moment."

"What happened?"

"The block cracked. Needs a whole new engine. Which is going to cost me more than I make in 3 months. So, I'm bussing it while I save. Had to take on a couple extra cases I normally would have given away."

"That sucks, Harry. I'd loan you a car, if I thought there was any chance of getting it back."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, let's be honest, brother-mine; You have three specialties." Thomas held up three fingers and ticked them off: "Finding things; Not getting laid; and blowing shit up."

I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out. "Shut up," I said, wittily.

He did, and we were quiet for a minute. Then he said, "Can I ask you a favour, Harry?"

"Sure."

"Let me hire you."

"Beg your pardon?

"I'll pay you very, very well."

"Ha-ha. Thanks, but you know I won't take charity."

"Actually, I'm serious. I want to hire you, as a wizard investigator, on behalf of the White Court."

My eyebrows crawled into my hairline. "You've got to be kidding me."

He grinned. "Except that I'm not."

"Thomas, the White Council and White Court are still formally at war."

"I know. But like you said, you're no longer a Warden. And we both know the Court wants out. Lara likes you, and she knows that backing the Reds is bad for business, in the long term."

"Lara likes me?"

Mouse grinned, and Thomas spread his hands as if to say, 'I don't understand, either.' "Big Sister has bad taste," he said.

I replied in my monotone again. "Ha. Ha-ha. So funny."

He grinned again, bigger this time, and it was the type of grin that most models would have surgery for. Then, it was gone. "It's children, Harry."

My focus doubled, and what little effect there had been from the ale was gone in a heartbeat. "What children? What about them?"

"Seven children. All kids the White Court has… an interest in."

I felt a buzz-click in my head as 2 and 2 slowly added up. I got 4. "Descendants?"

Thomas slowly nodded. "One of them is a Skavis, one's a Malvora, one is a Kirasi."

"Kirasi?"

"They're a minor house, prefer to feed on anger. But they usually back House Raith, even if it's just out of self-interest. Same with the others who are missing."

"Someone's making a power play."

"Someone, somehow, yeah. And they're using children to do it. I mean, I wouldn't ask, but… they're innocent, Harry. None of them even know what they might grow up to be."

The look on my brother's face as he said that… well, if I hadn't been convinced he was feeling human again, that would have been the clincher.

I hauled myself to my feet and offered him my hand. "I have to clear my schedule, but consider me on the case."

He shook my hand and gave me another winning smile. Before he could let go, I added, "And you're paying to get the Beetle fixed."

He laughed and stood. "Deal. Well, I better get the babysitter out of the sun."

Mouse and I walked him back to the door. "Where can I get a hold of you?"

"I'm back at my apartment. The number hasn't changed."

I tried to open the door, it got stuck, and he shoved it the rest of the way, effortlessly. "Get some sleep, Harry. Oh, by the way, you should swing by the salon sometime." He put on a horrible French accent. "Ze girls have been wondering what happen' to 'Arry."

I rolled my eyes. "Right. I'll be in touch tonight."

He nodded, then reached down and grabbed his unconscious bodyguard, threw the limp form over his shoulder casually, and walked up the stairs, somehow making the whole action seem fashionable. The douche.

*****

I needed sleep, but I knew I wasn't going to get much with thoughts of scared children floating in my head any more than I had with thoughts of Molly running scared, or with thoughts of Charity Carpenter chasing me down and beating me to death with her bare hands… but I also knew I wasn't going to help them much if I was too tired to think straight. So, I did what I could.

Lash? Could you please block everything out, and wake me in an hour? Or if the phone rings.

Of course, Harry. There was a brief pause, then she added, awkwardly, Sleep tight.

I smiled as I lay in my little bed. Lash was still working on mastering small talk and little expressions. The world went silent and dark. Thanks.

I woke up, I swear not ten seconds later, to a gentle washing-over of sound.

It was awful.

Light came next.

I hated it.

I groaned, and forced my eyes open. Lash was sitting there, pretty and dainty, hands in her lap, auburn hair loosely held above her head with sticks and ribbons. She smiled softly. "It's been an hour, Harry."

I groaned again. She smiled wider, then vanished back into the recesses of my battered head. Then I dragged my lazy ass out of bed and into the shower. It was cold, since I don't have a water heater, and woke me up most of the way. I went through my morning routine, including a shave, even though it was closer to ten, and after a quick breakfast of cold cereal, toast, an orange and coffee, I was out the door with a Coke in one hand and my bus pass in the other.

I won't go into details, but suffice it to say, public transit isn't my preferred method of getting around. If Mike, my mechanic, had a loaner available that was more than twenty years old, I would have jumped at it. All he had was a freaking Sentra. No thanks.

The ride wasn't all that bad, but it did take longer than I would have driving myself. I got off the bus at 10:35, walked to my office building by 10:45, and went up the stairs. My office was on the 4th floor, in a corner, overlooking another couple office buildings and a strip mall. Truly urban-chic.

No mail had come in since yesterday, so I doffed my duster and staff by the door, and slipped around my desk. I lifted the receiver on my old rotary phone.

I dialled a number I new quite well, one with a 626 area code, and left a message. Then I pulled all the files I'd left there the night before close to hand, flipped the top one open and picked up the phone again.

Mr. Rinjat was going to be disappointed I couldn't find his niece, but then, she was 27 and they had argued last time they spoke. There was a good chance she didn't want to be found. Graver and Murphy could take it.

I dialled the number on Graver's business card. It was an old one. It didn't have Murphy's name on it. The answer came on the third ring, and what little static there was on the line was my fault.

"Vince Graver. That you, Dresden?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"It's called caller-ID. All the fancy phones have it these days."

"You're funny. Want a client?"

"Usually. Details?"

"Missing person."

"Child?"

"Adult."

"Welcome change. I'm out right now. Swing by in an hour?"

"See you then."

Mrs. Carson had a possible poltergeist, maybe a ghost, but Mort Lindquist, my ectomancer associate, was probably better suited for that anyway. I called Mort next, and he agreed to take it on.

The third file was a request to locate a missing coin from a Mr. Hun. That one could be put off a couple days.

It went on like that, for the rest of the day, as I requested or offered files to friends and colleagues, then tried to get a hold of clients and explain that I'd had a family emergency, but could recommend someone who would do the job just as well.

A couple of them asked why, if others could do the job just as well, they had bothered with hiring me in the first place. Right before slamming the phone on me.

I have a great job. Really rewarding.

By the time Vince swung by, I had four other possible clients for him. The greedy, non-descript jerk took them all. Of course, with Murphy in his corner these days, he was probably going through the cases as fast as they came in.

Once business was wrapped up, and I was walking him back to my office door, he asked me a personal question. "Have you seen Molly lately?"

I stiffened, noticeably. "No. She went on a trip. To Scotland." Which was true.

"Why?"

"Tracing some family lineage, I think." Which was not.

"I thought her family was French."

I shrugged. "Jacobites?"

Graver shook his head. "She didn't tell me she was going."

"I didn't know, either." Which was sort-of true; I'd known the date, but I got home too late to walk her there through the Nevernever. "Some detectives we are."

"Speak for yourself. Later, Harry."

"Bye, Vince."

I sighed, spared Molly a worried thought, and went back to work.

It was 4:30 before someone else knocked on my office door. The building was beginning to empty as the lawyers, accountants, life coach, general contractor, and something called a server farm – which I believe had to do with computers - all left for the day. I put the phone down and called out, "Come on in."

Everyone has their favourite teacher. Mine was an old white-haired man named Ebenezar McCoy. The stout wizard stepped through the door, his staff bumping on the floor, and his face serious. He hooked one thumb through the suspenders on his overalls. "Hoss," he said by way of greeting.

I stood up. "Sir," I said. "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."

"Well, this probably won't surprise you, but things are changing." He closed the door, left his staff in the corner, and strode to the middle of my office, digging into his pocket as he went.

"What's going on?"

He looked at me, one hand in his pocket, and the other at his lips. I stopped talking. He pulled out a small container of salt and waved me closer. I stepped up to him, and he started pouring, walking in a large circle around me and my comfy client chairs. As it closed, I felt the tension of the magic snapping tight against my skin.

He murmured a few words, his right hand made a couple gestures, and he turned back to me, apparently satisfied. "Sorry about that, Hoss. But I'm not taking any chances anymore. No one can hear us now." He sat in one chair, and I took the other.

"I understand. Finding out there's another couple of traitors in the White Council is disturbing."

"To say the least. But that's not everything." He frowned into his beard. "Council politics are getting worse."

I lifted an eyebrow. "I know I'm going to regret asking this, but, how is that possible?"

He snorted. "Normally, there are only two camps; me, and the Merlin, and whoever we can convince to join our sides. But at the moment, we've got three."

"Sounds… fractious."

"Well, obviously, boy. On one side, you got me and Injun' Joe, trying to get us going against the vampires, and the Black Council, and every other enemy we seem to have these days, and on the other, Cristos and Mai. The Merlin, the Gatekeeper, and Martha Liberty are all being real careful, right now."

"It would be Cristos." Gregori Cristos was the newest member of the Senior Council, who had bullied his way to power with threats and innuendos on the coattails of tragedy. If he wasn't such an opportunistic jerk, I'd have been impressed.

"Damn right."

"What's he doing?"

"Pushing for change."

"Wow. What a bastard."

McCoy gave me a look. "I should have clouted you more when you were on the farm."

"You never hit me, Sir."

"Kind of my point. Anyway, Cristos seems to have gained Ancient Mai's favour. His big push right now is against the vampires."

"That hardly seems like a bad idea. The Red Court are monsters. And you just said - "

"I know what I said. But, he's going further. He's pushing to declare all half-vampires a danger, too."

My jaw clenched. "The Fellowship."

My old teacher nodded slowly. "If not for the Fellowship of St. Giles, we'd have lost the war already. But a lot of them are half-Reds." I knew that, and better than most. One of my ex-girlfriends, Susan Rodriguez, had been bitten a few years ago, and joined the Fellowship, fighting the Reds in South America.

Well, let's be honest; Susan being taken by the Reds was the reason a certain unnamed wizard had started the war in the first place. The Fellowship didn't have any wizards on their team, until the war had started, and the Council had started sending Wardens to every corner of the Earth to smack the vampires around. In a way, the war was the best thing to happen to the Fellowship in decades.

If the wizards were to turn on them… well, they knew the ways of the Red vampires better than the White Council did. A three-way fight would only help the vampires.

"That's ridiculous. Turning on the Fellowship would hurt us."

"Oh, he's playing it smart. He doesn't want to turn against them. He just want to withdraw support."

My mouth slowly fell open. "That's as good as stringing them up ourselves. The Red Court would butcher them."

He nodded, gravely. "At no loss to the Council, at least not immediately. And a potential, future threat, is wiped out."

"That's a load of crap, Sir."

"Don't I know it. But he's a convincing son of a bitch. 'Course, he's giving no thought to the Jade Court, and how dangerous they can be. On top of all that, he's talking – more quietly, of course – about hitting the White Court."

"They're barely involved. We have a working arrangement with the ruling house. They're not a threat right now."

"You just hit the nail on the head. 'Right now.' Cristos wants to hit them, and hit them hard, while they're looking the other way."

"Forcing them to retaliate. That's insanity. They're not as destructive as the Reds, but they're just as deadly."

"I know, Hoss. Thing is, Cristos might have a little point."

"What?!"

"I'm not saying I agree with him outright. Hitting the Whites now is suicidal. But I received an informal request yesterday, from the White King himself."

I carefully smoothed my features. McCoy didn't know Thomas was my brother. "What kind of request?"

He looked me right in the eye. "I'd be a little surprised if you didn't already know. I can read your body language like a book, boy."

I grimaced. "I may have received an unofficial request myself, from one of his family."

He nodded again, never breaking eye contact. "Just so we're clear; they want you to find some children."

"Yes, Sir."

"Their own children."

"Yes, Sir."

"I'm not going to mince words. The King wasn't very subtle about indicating that you finding them might be the only thing keeping the White Court out of the war right now. Unofficially, of course. Also unofficially, this is the exact sort of thing Cristos – and Mai, now – wouldn't want to happen."

"Well, no pressure. Though if you're trying to motivate me to take the case, that's all I need."

He smiled out of one side of his mouth. It was a predator's smile. "That's m'boy. That damn vampire asked for you. By name."

"Well, I do have a bit of a reputation as an investigator. You may have heard?" I hooked a thumb at my door, with the stencil that read 'Harry Dresden – Wizard'.

"It might have come up once or twice. And you should know: he stipulated there would be no mortal authorities involved. And I'm going to add my voice to that."

"I thought that went without saying."

"Alright, you need any help on this, you just tell me. I don't like helping vampires, but at that age…"

"I know, Sir. Don't worry about it. I've already got reinforcements coming. And I'm heading over to question a White later."

"What, you got dinner plans?"

"Thought I'd just drop by."

"Huh. And you can handle him?"

"He's a snappy dresser, but young, weak, and none-too-smart. Shouldn't be a problem." I heard Lash sigh at the back of my mind. I could have sworn I heard her whisper, Brothers.

"Good." Eb took a deep breath, and shifted uncomfortably.

"Something else? Anything new in Peabody's journals?"

"Not yet. I'm still reading. If that traitorous little bastard left any more clues, I'll find them. No, this is… bigger than that."

One of my eyebrows jumped. "Bigger than the Black Council?"

"Yeah. Look, Harry, the last two months have been… active."

"Active? What do you mean? With the vampires? I know the Reds and the Jades have been hitting us, but struck back - "

He was waving his hand at me. "No, no, Hoss. Not just with the vampires. I mean with everything." He paused, looking out my windows, trying find his words. "I mean, with certain portents. Signs."

I thought about that in silence for a second. "Signs. About the future."

"Yes."

"That have been coming to light, ever since we went into the past."

"Yes."

"That's… interesting timing."

"You're telling me. Look, I'm not saying we have any idea what exactly is happening. But based on certain interpretations… there are some predictions, theories, and outright prophecies that could be said to be… getting under way."

I stared at him. Then I swallowed. I think Lash held her breath. "Are we talking apocalyptic?"

He said nothing.

"Oh, boy. What does the Gatekeeper say?"

"Oh, you know Rashid. As little as he can." He leaned closer to me over the side of the chair. "But he's not sure what it all means. Only that something big is coming."

"And it all started with our trip?"

"Looks like."

"But we didn't change anything. We didn't alter time at all."

"We didn't have to." He leaned back, and rubbed his temples with one hand. "This may be my fault, in the end. Hoss, you know as well as I do, magic is tied to scientific realities."

"Sure. Magic is energy. Wizards can manipulate it. Can't create it or destroy it."

"Same goes for matter. When we went back, and then overlapped ourselves, repeatedly, we created a… bulge. A haemorrhage. Too much matter existing at once. And when we came back, we skipped over time. We left a deficit. A hole. We wrenched reality. I wrenched reality. I may have caused what's happening."

"Sir - "

"Don't. I don't want to hear it."

"Fair enough." I glanced out the window at the rapidly darkening sky. "So what do we do now?"

"We keep going the way we've been going. And hope I'm wrong." He stood up and broke the circle. I felt the circulation of power return to my skin. With a whispered string of words, he got the salt to jump back into the container he'd brought.

I looked at my watch. Just past 5. The traffic was light on the street in front of my office, but then, we were a little off the main strip. "Walk you out, Sir?"

"May as well." I passed him his staff, slipped into my duster, and took my own staff. I looked at my desk. It was still covered, but at least the more pressing files had been dealt with. I'd clean up the rest once I got a chance. In the hall, I pulled out my keys and locked up the door.

We started walking towards the stairwell. "I don't supposed you could give me a lift, Sir?"

He snorted. "Car misbehaving?"

"Could say that."

"Sure. Where's this White Court friend of yours live?"

"The Gold Coast. Nice neighbourhood. If I'm going to find these kids, he'll know where I can start."

I opened the door to the stairwell. McCoy started to say, "You'll have to navigate," but only got to "You'll have to navi - ," before we both felt the discharge of pent-up magic suddenly being released down the hall.

And my office exploded in a flare of red-white light that blinded me.

*****

I sat on the back bumper of the ambulance, gently touching the deep cut on my forehead. It was the worst injury I had. Ebenezar stood beside me. He didn't even have a scratch on him. His shields were that good.

If I hadn't been wearing my duster, I might have lost a limb. Of course, if I'd been a little faster, I might have come out of the explosion with no marks, too, but that would have looked awfully suspicious.

The fire was largely contained, now, with four firetrucks and crews drenching what was left of the building.

Every TV station in the city had a news van parked outside the perimeter, with a camera pointed at what used to be my office building.

I was not happy.

The EMT finished patching me up with the standard "You should take it easy for a while," then started packing his equipment away.

The whole area was now closed to traffic, but there were people gathered around watching the building burn.

"Thanks," I muttered, and stood up. McCoy let me lean on him a bit as we stepped away. "This is going to be bad," I said quietly.

"It's already bad, Hoss. The police want to talk to you." He nodded at an unmarked car, and the two men standing next to it. They started over towards us, and we towards them.

A few steps later, I saw a woman, wearing jeans and a dark hoodie, walk by, just out of the light. I saw the reflection of the fire her eyes lock on me for an instant, her lips curve into a quick smile, then she turned and disappeared back into the crowd. I started feeling a little better.

Then I was standing with two detectives I didn't know. "Mr. Dresden?" the taller one asked. He wasn't as tall as me, but not many people are. He had a smarmy, lawyer-like vibe to him. I christened him Greasy. His partner, who was much shorter, and largely bald, wore a better suit. He didn't speak. Whatever his name was, he would always be Gabby to me.

They sat McCoy and me down on a bus bench and started asking us questions. We kept our answers short. "Who would want to kill you, Mr. Dresden?" "I'm a PI. Who wouldn't?" "Did you notice the explosion was focussed on your office?" "No, I was too busy running for my life." "What were you doing here, Mr. McCoy?" "What, a man can't visit his grandson at work?" Eb's voice caught a bit when he gave that answer, but damned if I know why. It was a good cover.

Between a couple of questions, I saw another unmarked car arrive, and two large, black men got out. John Stallings, the head of Special Investigations, and Henry Rawlins, Murphy's last partner before her rather rude removal from the police force, started walking towards us. Both were good men, and very good cops.

Gabby saw where my eyes went, and looked over his shoulder. He snorted and shook his head. SI was not well thought of by the rest of the police department. Shame. I'd found them to be the only ones who ever had a clue.

Greasy turned around. "John, what the hell are you doing here?"

Stallings had an easy smile ready. "Oh, I just came to tell you boys, it's not your investigation."

"The hell it isn't! This isn't a freakshow, aside form your fraud, here - " he hooked a thumb at me, of all people, " – and there was obviously explosives used, so - "

"Hey, I'm sorry, Robbie, but this doesn't come from me. FBI will be here in about two minutes. Oh, actually, that's them, now."

Rawlins crossed his arms and chuckled, then gave me a nod. I returned it, then followed Stallings' gaze. Two men, both in charcoal grey suits, were coming towards us. They were similar looking beyond the duds, of a height and build with each other. One of them I recognized. He was about 6'1", which put him half a foot shorter than me, short brown hair starting to grey at the temples, and a neatly trimmed goatee, rather muscular.

"Hi, Rich," I said, waving and smiling. He never broke stride, but his head rolled back a little and he made a face. The agent next to him, a slimmer, athletic looking fellow, clean shaven with more grey hair, gave him a curious glance.

"Mr. Dresden," Rich said.

"Thought you were stationed in New Orleans?" I asked, politely.

"I transferred."

"How's Lisa?" I asked, friendly as can be.

"Fine, thank you. Not what we're here to discuss."

Gabby and Greasy Rob looked apoplectic, but they couldn't do anything. It was great.

"Well, what would you like talk about?"

"Funny thing," Rich said, hands going to his hips. "Seems a building blew up."

"Yeah, I saw that. Got a good view, seeing as I was inside it at the time." The slim agent covered his mouth.

"Gentlemen," a voice behind me said, quietly, calmly, politely, "if you have any further questions for Mr. Dresden, or his associate, Mr. McCoy, I would request you direct them to me."

We all turned around to face the source of the voice. It was a thin, short, balding man. He had thick glasses, a very expensive suit, just-as-expensive shoes, and a briefcase.

"Who the hell are you?" Rich asked.

"I am Daniel Goldfarb, and I am Mr. Dresden's lawyer."

I leaned back a little and looked behind him. I saw Thomas, standing at the perimeter, giving me a smile, and a thumbs-up.

"Your lawyer?" Greasy Rob said.

I turned back to him, all smiles. "Yes, my lawyer." Even McCoy was eying me, now.

"And how the hell," Rich asked, "did your lawyer get here so fast? Especially when you haven't phoned anyone."

"Gentlemen," I said, standing, "I'm going to let my lawyer answer that."

"Hey, you're not going anywhere, Dresden," Greasy said.

"Excuse me," Rich said, "But that's not for you to say. But he's right, Dresden, you're staying right where you are."

"Is my client under arrest?" Goldfarb asked, very politely.

Rich swung back to him. "Not yet."

"Do you have any probable cause to charge him with anything? Any evidence he might be responsible for the property damage?"

"We don't have any evidence at all, yet - "

"Then he is still a free citizen of this country, correct?"

Rich stopped talking and looked at Goldfarb, who simply stood there, looking back, polite as could be.

I'll admit, I'm not usually a fan of lawyers, but that's because I'm usually on the receiving end of their evil powers. Standing behind one, using him as a shield, actually felt pretty good.

Stallings and Rawlins found it funny, and made little effort to hide their smiles. They were probably wishing they had some popcorn. The slim agent next to Rich didn't say anything, but he continued to size me up the whole time he was there. I wasn't quite sure what to make of him.

Five minutes later, Goldfarb still politely destroying Rich's arguments, McCoy and I walked away, heading for Thomas. A little behind Thomas, two people deep in the crowd and looking rather inconspicuous, was the tall woman from earlier, still in her dark hoodie.

Before Ii could say hello to my brother, McCoy spoke to him. "That lawyer your doin'?"

Thomas knew how to play demure, though he rarely did it. "Yes, Sir," he said. "I thought it might help speed things along. Or, should I say, my father thought."

McCoy grunted.

"Sir, may I introduce you to Thomas Raith. Youngest – and only – son of the White King, and an associate of mine. In fact, we were supposed to meet later tonight. Thomas, meet Ebenezar McCoy, a member of the Senior Council." I said the last a little louder than I needed to.

The woman drifted into the crowd and vanished, as I'd known she would.

Thomas offered a smile and his hand, and after a show of reluctance, McCoy shook it, quickly. "Pleasure," he mumbled.

Thomas didn't act put out. "So, Harry," he said, looking around at the smouldering ruin. "Um. Can I buy you dinner?" Just then, a burnt-out timber fell, bringing a momentary rush of heat and flames into the sky. "I know a great Korean barbeque place."

McCoy and I both stared at him a moment. "You're right, Hoss. He is a snappy dresser."

Thomas smiled vacantly. "Thank you."

"You gonna be alright, Harry?"

"Yes, Sir. I think I'll be fine. The smart money's on the Reds doing this, not the Whites."

"So long as he's with me, Wizard McCoy, he has the complete protection of my Court, and my family."

McCoy's voice got very cold, and very quiet. "I'm gonna hold you to that, vampire. Anything happens to him, I'm gonna come find you. Personally."

Thomas was a good enough actor to know when to play serious and intimidated. "You won't have to, Wizard McCoy. I promise you that."

"I'd better not. Hoss, I'm heading back to Edinburgh."

"Right now?"

"No point in waiting. Someone wants you gone, and I'm putting every resource I can behind finding out who. You take care."

"You, too, Sir."

With one final, warning look at Thomas, my old teacher drifted away.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Thomas said, quietly, "He's a bit of a hard ass."

"You have no idea."

We started walking, down the street, away from the ruins of my office building. "And he really cares about you."

"He's the closest thing to a father I've got."

"Must be nice. I mean, better than a vacuous puppet enslaved to your sister."

"It has a perk or two. So, dinner?"

"Obviously. Least I can do, considering."

"Considering what?"

He looked over his shoulder at the last of the fire. "Considering that probably just happened because I hired you."

"Or because Lara hired me. Unofficially, of course. She used pressure, rather than money."

Thomas sighed. "Dammit. I told her she didn't need to."

"It's alright. I think she was just looking for a slightly more solid way of getting out of the war. Permanently."

"Yeah, maybe."

"You have any babysitters?"

"Not tonight. My last one came down with a case of broken face, so I'm on my own for a bit."

I stopped walking. "Car?"

"Of course. Just up around the corner."

"Good. The three of us have to get back to my place. I want to get Mouse out of there."

"Wait – three? Who's joining us?"

A tall, slender female form emerged from the shadows of an alley beside us. Thomas' only visible acknowledgment of her was a flickering of his eyes. He had gone perfectly, completely still, in a way no fully human being can. She'd startled him, which is very hard for a mortal to do. As she stepped forward, she drew back her hood, revealing a face with pale skin and grey eyes, framed by golden brown hair.

"I am," she said, with a little smile. "Hello, Harry."

I smiled, both at the sight of her, and at my brother's reaction. "Hello, Elaine."