Chapter 8
When I stepped inside, it was to find a dozen members of the household Guard waiting in the large foyer.
"What's all this about?" I asked Lacuna as she drifted closer.
The small fairy had changed out of her normal fatigues and into her dark battle armor, a customized suit made from a titanium alloy. The metal had been enchanted with lasting protections similar to those on my duster. Even the small sword and assorted blades she bore had been treated, ensuring that she would be able to hold her own against much larger opponents.
Each of the others with her wore matching armor. Such precautions had been costly in favors and errands to those that could supply the materials and work, but they were more than worth it. Combined, they made the Guard a formidable force against anyone that dared cross my wards.
"We went on red alert, sir," Lacuna advised me. The visor on her helm was up, leaving her face the only exposed part of her body.
"Why?" I asked as I hung up my duster and hat.
"Your ward lights, sir," she replied. "They shot to code red when the car drove onto the property."
Her words gave me pause, as I reconsidered the diminutive girl I'd seen.
The wards on the property had an alert system built in, which informed me if anyone of any significant power were approaching. There were five levels, the lowest being green, which would activate if minor practitioners or enhanced mortals like the lycanthropes came onto the property. Additional levels were set for those with more power, such as vampires, Sidhe, and wizards, all the way up to higher levels that would fire if a Senior Council member came knocking at my door. The highest only went off if the Queens ever showed up.
"Red alert?" I repeated, looking to Lacuna in surprise. "Really?"
The small fairy bobbed her head. "Yes sir. We even prepared to activate some of the defense spirits."
That would have been wasteful, considering that the sun was still up. But they were there to be used, and I'd rather have to capture more and bind them to me than die because I'd failed to use my full armament. "You're telling me that little slip of a girl was more powerful than Senior Council members?" I asked. They'd only get to orange, after all.
"Yes sir."
"Damn," I said, blinking slowly. "Maybe I shouldn't have antagonized her driver."
"He possesses his own level of power," Lacuna advised. "Although it was nothing compared to the girl."
I nodded. "Thanks. You can have everyone stand down."
Lacuna nodded and looked over her shoulder, and the dozen fairies disappeared. As they did, Toot drifted into the room, dressed in his normal clothes and carrying a bag of Combos. I'll let you guess what flavor.
"Where were you?!" Lacuna snapped when she saw him, clearly angry that he hadn't donned his own armor.
"You said it was the duel lady," he replied, surprised at her outburst. "Why would she attack?"
"Under the Accords, she has the right to kill him if she believes he's in violation of any of the rules of engagement," Lacuna shot back.
"Harry wouldn't break the rules. And I was making lunch," Toot replied with a snippy tone. "At least one of us did something productive."
Lacuna started to reply, but I waved her off. "Let it go, Luna," I told her. "I need you to concentrate on other things."
The dark haired fairy looked like she'd prefer to anything other than let it go, but she still obeyed. Turning to me, she gave a slight bow. "What is it, my lord?"
"I've got to go prepare a tracking spell," I told her. "But I need to prep for this duel, too. I need to know everything there is to know about Paolo Ortega."
"Already done, my lord," she replied. "There is a file waiting in your lab."
"Excellent," I told her, once again surprised by her foresight.
"You want some lunch?" Toot asked, drawing my eyes.
"What's on the menu?"
He looked to Lacuna as he answered, his eyes narrowed. "Having taken the recommendation of others, I have prepared a salad."
Lacuna's wings fluttered, her eyes widening in surprise. "Really?"
"Yes."
"A real salad?" she asked, her tone somewhat doubtful. "Not lettuce dribbled over a pizza?'"
"No, a real salad," Toot replied coolly. He couldn't even pretend to be upset about her questioning him; he'd done just what she'd described several times before.
"Okay," I replied, trying to sound enthusiastic about the prospect of a salad. If Toot could try and appease Lacuna, so could I. "Let me grab the file and I'll read it while I eat."
"Allow me, my lord," Lacuna said, before darting off toward the winding stairwell to the basement. I left that to her, and headed for the kitchen as Toot alighted upon my shoulder.
"You really made a salad?" I whispered, letting a little bit of my disappointment show through.
"Not just any salad," the fairy replied in a whisper, his tone conspiratorial. "A pizza salad."
That renewed my smile, and I continued on.
When Lacuna arrived with the file, I saw that she also had Bob's skull with her. As it was daylight, and there was plenty of sunlight shining in through the windows, she'd put the skull in a motorcycle helmet we'd borrowed from Sía. Lacuna positioned it so that the tinted visor was facing me, and away from the windows. I could just make out the glowing lights of Bob's eyes through the material.
"What is this?" Lacuna asked, drifting over my salad bowl once Bob was in place. Her eyes narrowed as she inspected the ingredients.
"A salad," Toot replied, continuing to snack on his Combos. "Lettuce, cubed pepperoni, shredded mozzarella cheese, chopped tomato, and a special dressing I whipped up myself."
Said dressing was a tomato sauce mixed with vegetable oil and white wine vinegar. And it was surprisingly delicious. For all his faults, Toot could actually cook when he applied any effort.
"And you have fruit!" Lacuna exclaimed, her eyes widening as she looked at a small bowl of berries.
"Mm-hmm," I mumbled as I ate a few just for her benefit.
"And its not those gummy fruits he normally tries to pass off!" she continued, still amazed. "It's actual fruit!"
Toot looked smug, clearly enjoying her surprise. But it was his turn to be surprised when she swept toward him in a blur of dark metal. He flinched, but then his eyes went big and round as she placed a soft kiss upon one cheek.
"I will go get changed, and then I will join you," Lacuna declared. "If I may?"
"By all means," I told her. She bowed again, and then disappeared, heading off to the Guard's room.
"Wow!" Toot whispered, his voice filled with some of the awe that he'd had early on in their acquaintance. It seemed his infatuation with the dark haired fairy had been renewed with nothing more than a kiss.
"What happened with the Shroud?" Bob asked, clearly not as enamored with the exchange.
"Strike and a miss," I replied as I opened the folder on Ortega. "But I've got a blood sample from one of the thieves. After lunch we'll set up a tracking spell, and monitor her position."
I held off on anything more until Lacuna returned. As we munched on some rabbit food, I updated them on what had happened at the dock and in the driveway.
"Metal boobies?" Bob specified, his eyes flaring brightly beneath the visor.
"Yes," I confirmed. Because of course he'd fixate on the one thing that didn't matter about the metal skinned demon that had attacked me.
"Were they hard, or did they feel like flesh?" he asked in wonder.
"I didn't stop to cop a feel, Bob," I said with a frown.
"Did they sag, or—"
"The important thing is that another Denarian attacked you," Lacuna said, cutting off the pervy skull. "I would like to know how they have found you twice."
"They must be tracking me," I replied. "I felt something at the edge of my perception at the harbor, but couldn't pinpoint what it was."
"Unless they tracked the Shroud themselves, and just happened to get there when you did." Bob countered.
"No, I think they're following me," I told him. "Remember how I told you that the body they found overseas left clues pointing to Chicago?" The lights bobbed. "I think it was this Denarian that cut up LaRouche. The man didn't give up his partners, so the Fallen needed another way of tracking them down."
"You're saying they want you to find the Shroud," Lacuna guessed.
"Yeah," I confirmed. "They left the clues for the Vatican to follow, knowing that the Church would send someone. The Fallen are probably looking themselves, but they've doubled their resources by letting Vincent search as well."
"So the priest might be in danger," Lacuna said.
"Undoubtedly," I confirmed. "Which is why I want you to put someone on him."
"Would that not be uncomfortable?"
I pinched my nose again. "Have someone follow him discreetly."
Lacuna nodded readily enough, but it was Bob that spoke up. "Why not go after the Shroud now?"
"If the tracking spell indicates they're somewhere secluded, I might just do that," I told him. "But I'm not going to risk getting into something in public. They were armed, and might just open fire if they see me again. Not to mention the disaster that would occur if one of the Denarians showed up in broad daylight."
"Would they do that?" Lacuna asked.
I shrugged. "I don't know. They seem pretty intent on finding the Shroud."
"There's something I don't get," Bob said, sounding puzzled. "If they wanted you to find the Shroud, why did that first one try to kill you?"
When we'd spoken about the Denarians the night before, Bob had been adamant about not writing out their symbol, nor even mentioning their names. It was his opinion that the Fallen were the worst of the worst, and that I should have gotten out while I still could.
Out of respect for his concerns, I didn't use Ursiel's name. "I don't think it was," I admitted. "Not at first. It could have cut my throat rather than pull me from the truck. And it didn't have those sulfurous claws for its first two attacks. It only got serious after I pissed it off."
"One might wonder why you continue to do that." Bob stated.
"It's kind of my trademark, Bob," I reminded him.
"Do you want me to place someone upon you as well, my lord?" Lacuna asked, trying her best to use the idioms as she learned them.
"You'll do," I said, glancing at the clock. "Unless we go after the Shroud early, I'll only be leaving to attend the meeting for the duel." I snapped my fingers and went for the card the Archive had given me. "That reminds me. You need to call this number and find out the details."
Lacuna took it and drifted toward the phone. My attention shifted back to Bob's lights shining beneath the motorcycle visor as he asked, "You plan on taking the Shroud at the buyer's exchange?"
"Or just before," I confirmed. "It's gotta be Marcone; I don't know anyone else that has the pull or the gall to have such a thing stolen. And he'll use the auction as a cover for his activities, providing a convenient alibi if one's needed."
I glanced over at Lacuna, who was writing something down. The handset for the old phone on the wall was sitting atop it, which required her to drift back and forth between the ends to listen and speak accordingly.
"When and where?" I asked once she was done, having replaced the handset back in the cradle.
"Tonight at eight," she replied, handing me the piece of paper.
"Should have known it'd be at Mac's," I said, reading her notes.
Mac's pub was a small place in town where the local practitioner community tended to gather. It was also Accorded Neutral Ground, which meant that any and all members of the Accords were obligated to behave while there. Those that weren't members were encouraged to act accordingly.
Get it? Accord-ingly?
Lame jokes aside, it was a bit of a relief. If we'd met anywhere else, I would have worried about an ambush, powerful intermediary or not. But at Mac's, everyone would play nice.
"Wait, when is Marcone's thing?" I asked, realizing I might have a schedule conflict.
"Tonight at the same time," Lacuna said, before quickly adding. "But you cannot miss the meeting."
I nodded in agreement. "Alright. Another new plan. Once I locate the women, we'll put someone on them as well." At the rate I was going, my entire household Guard would be out on the town tonight. "If they see the exchange going down before we're done with the meeting, they'll need to get you word."
"Easy enough," Lacuna said.
"Did you get the tickets?"
"Mrs. MacTire's people were able to acquire two," she confirmed. "Do you plan on taking her as your guest?"
I nodded as I stood up and started putting away the remnants of lunch, before taking up the file on Ortega. "So we've got a plan. Track the girls down, and put a shadow on them. One for Vincent as well. We'll go for the Shroud if the opportunity presents itself; otherwise, we got to the duel meeting, and then the auction." Bob's eye-lights and Lacuna nodded, while Toot just kept staring at her with wide and adoring eyes.
With our plan set, we all went to work.
Seeing as my luck had been pretty shitty so far, I knew things would fall apart soon enough. But I did what I could to plan even for that, and hoped it'd be enough.
The first distraction to interrupt things was late that afternoon, in the form of a phone-call from Moss, who forwarded along a call from Vincent.
"What's up, padre?" I asked, irritated at the interruption.
"I wanted to see if you'd made any progress?" the man asked, sounding hopeful.
"I almost had it this morning," I admitted. "Things didn't quite pan out the way I hoped."
"Oh. That's unfortunate," he replied, his disappointment palpable. "Still, I hold out hope."
"Yeah, sure," I said, eager to get him off the phone.
"The package just arrived," he added helpfully.
"What package?" I asked.
"The one with the threads?" Vincent reminded me.
"Oh, right. I'm not going to need those." The tracking spell was in place down in the basement, and Lacuna had already dispatched someone to watch the women. From what I could tell, they were simply riding the El all around town, staying in public as much as possible.
"But I thought they were to authenticate—"
"Look, padre, I'm right in the middle of things," I told him. "I'll call you when I have something."
Before he could distract me further, I hung up, and started toward the lab. But the chimes in the foyer sounded, and I gave off an exasperated sigh as I headed back up.
Since the wards hadn't fired off any warnings, I knew whoever was calling didn't have any power. So as I opened the door, I wasn't too worried.
I should have been.
A tiny woman was waiting for me, her short blond hair blowing in the winter wind as she looked up at me. "Have a minute?"
I stepped out and closed the door after me. "Anything for a former friend."
My words caused the skin to tighten around Lieutenant Karrin Murphy's eyes, but she didn't rise to the bait. "I wanted to check in on you. I heard your jeep had been stolen."
"Yeah, that was unfortunate," I replied with a sad shake of my head. "And the thieves wrecked it, I understand?"
"Something like that," Murphy replied, her blue eyes surprisingly bright and crisp in the cold air. "We checked surveillance footage for the block. Unfortunately there wasn't anything showing the accident, but the detectives are following up on a white truck that arrived and then fled around the same time."
"Good," I said. "Hope they find the bastards."
"I'm not sure the owner of the vehicle is our guy, though," Murphy said quietly. "From what you told me, Michael Carpenter isn't the type to go hot-wiring cars."
"Michael? Really?" I asked, my eyes wide in apparent shock. "I wouldn't have thought so, but you just can't tell with people anymore, can you?" My eyes narrowed. "I mean, the people you trust the most often end up being the ones to stab you in the back."
Murphy's jaw locked at the thinly veiled jab, but again she didn't budge. "Either way, the detectives swung by his place to get his statement. Seems he was heading out of town for business, but they asked him to stick around for a bit."
"Sounds like they think they have something," I said with a forced smile.
"He's just a person of interest for now," she replied.
The silence grew for a minute, before the diminutive detective spoke again, changing gears. "You know what else is funny?" she asked. When I failed to respond, she continued. "There was a disturbance down at Burnham Harbor this morning."
I shrugged. "Boats aren't really my thing."
"Yeah," she said with a nod. "Apparently someone else doesn't like them either. Seems that somebody set fire to one."
"Wow," I said, my voice dead-pan. "Are you seriously coming to accuse me of starting a fire? Because that's kind of rude."
"Accuse you?" she said, her eyes widening slightly. "Why would I accuseyou? I mean, it's not like you could have been responsible. Whoever did it was tied to some really strange stuff. Like somehow breaking part of the dock and setting it adrift. And making an ice cube the size of a Buick."
Murphy might not know everything about the supernatural, but as the head of the Special Investigations division, she knew more than most. I knew she'd been keeping tabs on me, and there were plenty of people in town that had heard of my knighthood. Not to mention the rumors about what I could do.
"You know, now that you mention it," she continued, not waiting for a response. "There was that cabbie that got interviewed." At that, I genuinely blinked. "The detectives did a canvas of all of the companies, just making sure there were no pick-ups or drop-offs around that time. And one guy did recall a really tall guy wearing a black coat and a hat."
"What made you think to do that?" I asked, buying time.
"Oh, it's fairly standard procedure," she replied. "A lot of criminals think they shouldn't drive their own car to crime scenes, so they use alternative means of transportation." She blinked as she met my eyes. "Or when their own vehicles are out of commission."
I broke her gaze, not wanting to trigger anything. As I did, I realized something. I turned back to her, a soft smile growing on my face. "Was there something in particular you wanted, detective? Because so far you've mentioned what sounds like two crimes scenes." My smile grew. "Neither of which you have jurisdiction over."
Murphy's face hardened at that. "Damnit, Dresden," she hissed. "You know what I want? I want to know why I've got a corpse that was killed with magic. I want to know why the morgue's alarm system failed right before I arrived, and why the lights broke down, and why when Butters went back down to check on something, he saw that one of the corpse's arms had moved on its own. And why there was an extra pair of gloves in the chemical waste bin."
Oops.
"I want to know why your 'stolen' car just happened to get wrecked a few minutes later, only a few blocks from the morgue. I want to know why your friend — assuming you haven't pushed him away, too — showed up to give the 'thief' a lift. Which all happened after there was apparently a conflict in the alley that left a solid steel trash bin and a steel fire escape shredded like the corpse Butters was working on."
The small detective stepped closer, leaving little room between us as she stared at my face without meeting my eyes. "I want to know why some tall lanky guy with your poor fashion sense was seen leaving a crime scene where a Canadian boat was burned to the water line, the two occupants of which are now missing."
Murphy trailed off, her temper barely cooled by the chill in the air. She let the silence linger, long enough that I had to eventually say something.
"I'm sure they're fine," I said softly.
Her hard eyes flickered between mine, daring to trigger a soulgaze. "Are you giving me your word?"
"I'm being supportive," I replied lightly. "Who would want to kill some Canadians? That country's like the Alderaan of Earth."
"This is no joke, Dresden," Murphy growled. "Something is happening in my city. Something you're involved with. And I want to know what."
I leaned toward her, my own resolve hardening along with my eyes. "You know what? That's too. Fucking. Bad." My words shocked her, based on how wide her eyes got as she took a step back. "There was a time I would have helped you. There were times I did. And you know what you did in almost every instance?" I jabbed a finger at her chest. "You accused me of causing it. Accused me of being the problem."
"I think—"
"No," I spat, cutting her off. "You don't get to justify yourself. I tried helping you numerous times, and you put me in cuffs just as many times. And now you're at my door, throwing veiled accusations my way again."
Murphy's surprise faded as her face hardened again. "I came after you when I had reason to. When you lied to me; kept things from me."
She pointed at the house we stood in front of, her voice growing harsh. "You remember the first time we were here?" Her finger swung back to me. "I put you in cuffs back then because you kept things from me. You withheld information that could have saved a woman's life. You violated the law, just like you're doing now. Just like you always have."
"What the hell are you talking about?" I growled, my blood temperature rising even as the air around us dropped several degrees.
"You run around this town as if you own it," she said harshly. "You act like it's yours to defend or destroy, however you see fit. You take the law into your own hands."
"I have to, when the law lets people like Marcone have free reign to do as they please," I shot back. "You have no idea what's going on in this town. No idea what factions are trying to move in; to expand their territory, all at the cost of mortal lives."
"I know that the Streetwolves are expanding theirs," she replied hotly. "And I know you're helping them do it." Her voice almost broke at that, taking on a desperate undertone. "Harry, you're helping the bad guys. You're helping the people that are making things worse."
"If I'm helping anyone, it's the people that didn't turn their backs on me when I needed help," I replied coldly. "And the Streetwolves are not the problem. Marcone is. The Reds are. You should be going after them, rather than banging on my door, chasing down things that have nothing to do with you."
As I said the last, I unconsciously stepped forward, closing the distance between us. In response, Murphy stepped back, her feet slipping on the ice that had suddenly sprung up across the stone porch. I saw her eyes widen as she began to fall backwards, her marital arts training no help as she lost her footing.
My hand shot out, grabbing her jacket just before she took a tumble. She stared at me, her eyes like saucers as my words hissed from between my lips, gusts of hot breath steaming in the nearly arctic weather that had descended across my porch.
"You need to learn to watch your step, detective," I said quietly, but certainly not softly. "Because one day you're going to step too far. And I'm not going to be there to save you."
I released my hold on her jacket, and she stepped gingerly to avoid slipping again. By the time she'd found her balance, my door was slamming shut, leaving her alone in the cold.
