by Butcher, Jim
Unless . . .
“Hell’s bells,” I swore. “I hate it when I don’t figure out the mystery that it’s too late.”
Dozens of gleaming red eyes turned toward me. Susan jabbed her elbow into my ribs. “Shut up, Dresden,” she hissed. “You’re making them look at us.”
“Harry?” Michael whispered.
“That’s their game,” I said, quietly. “We’ve been set up.”
Michael grunted. “What?”
“This whole thing,” I said. The facts started falling into place, about two hours too late. “It’s been a setup from the very beginning. The ghosts. The Nightmare demon. The attacks on our family and friends. All of it.”
“For what?” Michael whispered. “What’s it a setup for?”
“She meant to force us to show here from the very beginning. She’s getting set to take a lesson from history,” I said. “We have to get out of here.”
“A lesson from history?” Michael said.
“Yeah. Remember what Vlad Tepesh did at his inauguration?”
“Oh Lord,” Michael breathed. “Lord preserve us.”
“I don’t get it,” Susan said, voice quiet. “What did this guy do?”
“He invited all of his political and personal enemies to a feast. Then he locked them in and burned them all alive. He wanted to start off his administration on a high note.”
“I see,” Susan said “And you think this is what Bianca’s doing?”
“Lord preserve us,” Michael murmured again.
“I’m told that He helps those who help themselves,” I said. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
Michael’s armor clinked as he looked around. “They’ve blocked the exits.”
“I know. How many of them can you handle without the Sword?”
“If it was only a question of holding them off . . .”
“But it isn’t. We may have to punch a hole through them.”
Michael shook his head. “I’m not sure. Maybe two or three, Lord willing.”
I grimaced. Only one vampire guarded each way out, but there were another two or three dozen in the courtyard—not to mention my godmother or any of the other guests, like Mavra.
“We’ll head for that gate,” Michael said, nodding toward one of the gates in the hedges.
I shook my head. “We’d never make it.”
“You will,” he said. “I think I can manage that much.”
“Ixnay on that upidstay anplay,” I said. “We need an idea that gets us all out alive.”
“No, Harry. I’m supposed to stand between people and the harm things like these offer. Even if it kills me. It’s my job.”
“You’re supposed to have the Sword to help. It’s my fault that it’s gone, so until I get it back for you, ease off on the martyr throttle. I don’t need anyone else on my conscience.” Or, I thought, a vengeful Charity coming after me for getting her children’s father killed. “There’s got to be a way out of this.”
“Let me get this straight,” Susan said, quietly, as Bianca’s speech went on. “We can’t leave now because it would be an insult to the vampires.”
“And all the excuse they would need to call for instant satisfaction.”
“Instant satisfaction,” Susan said. “What’s that?”
“A duel to the death. Which means that one of them would tear my arms off and watch me bleed to death,” I said. “If I’m lucky.”
Susan swallowed. “I see. And what happens if we just wait around?”
“Bianca or one of the others finds a way to make us cross the line and throw the first punch. Then they kill us.”
“And if we don’t throw the first punch?” Susan asked.
“I figure she’ll have a backup plan to wipe us out with, just in case.”
“Us?” Susan asked.
“I’m afraid so.” I looked at Michael. “We need a distraction. Something that will get them all looking the other way.”
He nodded and said, “You might be better for that than me, Harry.”
I took a breath and looked around to see what I had to work with. We didn’t have much time. Bianca was bringing her speech to a close.
“And so,” Bianca said, her voice carrying ably, “we stand at the dawn of a new age for our kind, the first acknowledged Court this far into the United States. No longer need we fear the wrath of our enemies. No longer shall we meekly bow our heads and offer our throats to those who claim power over us.” At this point, her dark eyes fastened directly upon me. “Finally, with the strength of the entire Court behind us, with the Lords of the Outer Night to empower us, we will face our enemies. And bring them to their knees.” Her smile widened, curving fangs, bloodred.
She trailed a fingertip across her throat, then lifted the blood to her mouth to suckle it from her finger. She shivered. “My dear subjects. Tonight, we have guests among us. Guests brought here to witness our ascension to real power. Please, my friends. Help me welcome them.”
The spotlights swiveled around. One of them splashed onto my little group; me, Michael, Susan, with Thomas and Justine just a little apart. A second illuminated Mavra, at the head of the stairs, in all her stark and unearthly pallor. A third settled upon my godmother, who glowed with beauty in its light, casually tossing her hair back and casting a glittering smile around the courtyard. At my godmother’s side was Mister Ferro, unlit cigarette still between his lips, smoke dribbling out his nostrils, looking martial and bland in his centurion gear, and utterly unconcerned with everything that was going on.
Applause, listless and somehow sinister, came out of the dark around us. There should be some kind of law. Anything that is so bad that its applause is sinister should be universally banned or something. Or maybe I was just that nervous. I coughed, and waved my hand politely.
“The Red Court would like to take this opportunity to present our guests with gifts at this time,” Bianca said, “so that they may know how very, very deeply we regard their goodwill. So, without further ado, Mister Ferro, would you honor me by stepping forward and accepting this token of the goodwill of myself and my Court.”
The spotlight followed Ferro as he walked forward. He reached the foot of the dais, inclined his head in a shallow but deliberate nod, then ascended to stand before Bianca. The vampire bowed to him in return, and made a gesture with one hand. One of the hooded figures behind her stepped forward, holding a small cask, about as big as a breadbox. The figure opened it, and the lights gleamed on something that sparkled and shone.
Ferro’s eyes glittered, and he stretched his hand down into the cask, sinking it to the wrist. A small smile stretched his lips, and he withdrew his hand with slow reluctance. “A fine offering,” he murmured. “Especially in this age of paupers. I thank you.”
He and Bianca exchanged bows where she dipped her head just a fraction lower than his own. Ferro closed the cask and took it beneath one arm, withdrawing a polite step before turning and descending the stairs.
Bianca smiled and faced the courtyard again. “Thomas, of House Raith, of our brothers and sisters in the White Court. Please step forward, that I may give you a token of our regard.”
I glanced over at Thomas. He took a slow breath and then said, to me, “Would you stand with Justine for me, while I’m up there.”
I glanced at the girl. She stood looking up at Thomas, one hand on his arm, her eyes worried, one sweet little lip between her teeth. She looked small, and young, and frightened. “Sure,” I said.
I held out a rather stiff arm. The girl’s hands clutched at my forearm, as Thomas turned with a brilliant smile, and swaggered into the spotlight and up the steps. She smelled delicious, like flowers or strawberries, with a low, heady musky smell underneath, sensual and distracting.
“She hates him,” Justine whispered. Her fingers tightened on my arm, through my sleeve. “They all hate him.”
I frowned and glanced down at the girl. Even worried, she was terribly beautiful, though her proximity to me l
essened the impact of her outfit. Or lack thereof. I focused on her face and said, “Why do they hate him?”
She swallowed, then whispered, “Lord Raith is the highest Lord of the White Court. Bianca extended her invitation to him. The Lord sent Thomas in his stead. Thomas is his bastard son. Of the White Court, he is the lowest, the least regarded. His presence here is an insult to Bianca.”
I got over my surprise that the girl had spoken that many words all together. “Is there some kind of grudge between them?”
Justine nodded, as on the dais, Thomas and Bianca exchanged bows. She presented him with an envelope, speaking too quietly for the crowd to hear. He responded in kind. Justine said, “It’s me. It’s my fault. Bianca wanted me to come be hers. But Thomas found me first. She hasn’t forgiven him for it. She calls him a poacher.”
Which made sense, in a way. Bianca had risen to where she was by being Chicago’s most infamous Madame. Her Velvet Room provided the services of girls most men only got to daydream about, for a hefty price. She had enough dirt and political connections that she could protect herself from legal persecution, even without counting any of her vampire tricks, and she’d always had more than her share of those. Bianca would want someone like Justine—sweet looking, gorgeous, unconsciously sexy. Probably dress her up in a plaid skirt and a starched white shirt with—
Down, Harry. Hell’s bells. “Is that why you stay with him?” I asked her. “Because you feel that it’s your fault he has enemies?”
She looked up at me, for a moment, and then away, her expression more sad than anything. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Look. He’s a vampire. I know that they can affect people, but you could be in danger—”
“I don’t need rescuing, Mr. Dresden,” she said. Her lovely eyes sparkled with something hard, determined. “But there is something you can do for me.”
I got an edgy feeling and watched the girl warily. “Yeah? Like what?”
“You can take Thomas and me with you when you leave.”
“You guys showed up in a limo, and you want a ride home with me?”
“Don’t be coy, Mister Dresden,” she said. “I know what you and your friends were talking about.”
I felt my shoulders creak with tension. “You heard us. You aren’t human, either.”
“I’m very human, Mister Dresden. But I read lips. Will you help him or not?”
“It isn’t my business to protect him.”
Her soft mouth compressed into a hard line. “I’m making it your business.”
“Are you threatening me?”
Her face flushed as pink as the dress she was almost wearing, but she stood her ground. “We need friends, Mister Dresden. If you won’t help us, then I’ll try to buy Bianca’s favor by exposing your plans to escape and claiming that I heard you talking about killing her.”
“That’s a lie,” I hissed.
“It’s an exaggeration,” she said, her voice gentle. She lowered her eyes. “But it will be enough for her to call a duel. Or to force you to shed blood. And if that happens, you will die.” She took a breath. “I don’t want it to be like that. But if we don’t do something to protect ourselves, she’ll kill him. And make me into one of her pet whores.”
“I wouldn’t let that happen to you,” I said. The words poured out of my mouth before I’d had time to run them past the thinking part of my brain, but they had that solid, certain ring of truth. Oh, hell.
She looked up at me, uncertain again, catching one of those soft lips between her teeth. “Really?” she whispered. “You really mean that, don’t you.”
I grimaced. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do.”
“Then you’ll help me? You’ll help us?”
Michael, Susan, Justine, Thomas. Before long, I was going to need a secretary just to keep track of everyone I was supposed to be looking out for. “You. But Thomas can look out for himself.”
Justine’s eyes filled with tears. “Mister Dresden, please. If there’s anything I can do or say to convince you, I—”
“Dammit,” I swore, earning a glare from Michael. “Dammit, dammit, dammit, woman. All women, for that matter.” That earned me a glare from Susan. “He’s a vampire, Justine. He’s eating you. Why should you care if something happens to him?”
“He’s also a person, Mister Dresden,” Justine said. “A person who’s never done you any harm. Why shouldn’t you care what happens to him?”
I hate it when a woman asks me for help and I witlessly decide to go ahead and give it, regardless of dozens of perfectly good reasons not to. I hate it when I get threatened and strong-armed into doing something stupid and risky. And I hate it when someone takes the moral high ground on me and wins.
Justine had just done all three, but I couldn’t hold it against her. She just looked too sweet and helpless.
“All right,” I said, against my better judgment. “All right, just stay close. You want my protection, then you do what I say, when I say, and maybe we can all get out of this alive.”
She let out a little shudder that ran through her most attractively, and then she pressed herself against me. “Thank you,” she murmured, nuzzling her face into the hollow of my throat so that little lightning-streaks of sensation flickered down my spine. “Thank you, Mister Dresden.”
I coughed, uncomfortably, and firmly shoved back any ideas of extracting a more thorough thanks from her later, despite the clamoring of my sex drive. Probably the vampire venom, I reasoned, making me notice things like that even more. Sure. I pushed Justine gently away, and looked up to see Thomas returning from his visit to the dais, holding an envelope in his hand.
“Well,” I greeted him quietly, as he returned. “That looks like it went well enough.”
He gave me a rather pallid smile. “It . . . she can be rather frightening, when she wishes, can’t she.”
“Don’t let her get to you,” I advised him. “What did she give you?”
Thomas accepted Justine into the circle of his arm, and she pressed her body to his as though she wanted to wallow in him and leave one of those angel shapes. He lifted the envelope and said, “A condo in Hawaii. And a ticket there, on a late flight tonight. She suggested that I might want to leave Chicago. Permanently.”
“One ticket,” I said, and glanced at Justine.
“Mmmm.”
“Friendly of her,” I commented. “Look, Thomas. We both want to get out of here tonight. Just stay close to me and follow my lead. All right?”
He frowned a bit, and then shot Justine a reproachful look. “Justine. I asked you not to—”
“I had to,” she said, her face earnest, frightened. “I had to do something to help you.”
He coughed. “I apologize, Mister Dresden. I didn’t want to involve anyone else in my problems.”
I rubbed at the back of my neck. “It’s okay. We can help each other, I guess.”
Thomas closed his eyes for a moment. Then he said, very simply and very openly, “Thank you.”
“Sheesh,” I said. I glanced up at Bianca, who was in converse with one of the robed and hooded shadows. The pair of them vanished to the back of the dais while Bianca watched, and then returned, lugging something that evidently weighed a good deal. They settled the fairly large object, hidden beneath a dark red cloth, on the dais beside Bianca.
“Harry Dresden,” Bianca purred. “Old and esteemed acquaintance, and wizard of the White Council. Please come forward so that I can give you some of what I’ve been longing to for so long.”
I gulped, and shot a glance back at Michael and Susan. “Look sharp,” I said. “If she’s going to do something, I guess it will be now, when we’re separated.”
He put his hand on her shoulder, and said, “God go with you, Harry.” Energy thrummed along my skin, and the nearest vampires shifted about uneasily and took a few steps away. He saw me notice, and gave me a small, sheepish smile.
“Be careful, Mister Dresden,” Susan said.
I bobbe
d my eyebrows at them, nodded to Thomas and Justine, and then walked forward, my cane in one hand, my cheesy cape flowing in the night air as I mounted the stairs to the dais. A bit of sweat stung in the corner of my eye, smearing my makeup, probably. I ignored it, meeting Bianca’s gaze as I came level with her.
Vampires don’t have souls. She didn’t have to fear my gaze. And she wasn’t good enough to sucker me into her eyes. Or at least, she hadn’t been, a couple years ago. She met my gaze, steady, her eyes dark and lovely and so very, very deep.
I took the better course of valor, and focused upon the tip of her perfectly upturned nose. I saw her breasts rise and fall in pleasure beneath the flames that gowned her, and she let out a small, purring sound of satisfaction. “Oh, Harry Dresden. I had looked forward to seeing you tonight. You are a very handsome man, after all. But you look utterly ridiculous.”
“Thanks,” I said. No one, except maybe the pair of robed attendants at the back of the dais, could hear us. “How did you plan on killing me?”
She fell quiet for a moment, thoughtful. Then she asked me, as she formally inclined her head, for the benefit of the crowd below, “Do you remember Paula, Mister Dresden?”
I returned the gesture, only more shallowly, just to throw the little zing of insult into it. “I remember. She was pretty. Polite. I didn’t really get to meet her much.”
“No. She was dead within an hour of you setting foot in my house.”
“I thought she might have gone that way,” I said.
“That you might have killed her, you mean?”
“Isn’t my fault if you lost control and ate her, Bianca.”
She smiled, teeth blinding white. “Oh, but it was your fault, Mister Dresden. You’d come to my house. Provoked me to near madness. Forced me to go along with you under threat of my destruction.” She leaned forward, giving me a glimpse down the flame-dress. She was naked beneath. “Now I get to return the favor. I’m not someone you can simply walk over, slap around, whenever you have a need. Not anymore.” She paused and then said, “In a way, I’m grateful to you, Dresden. If I hadn’t wanted so very badly to kill you, I would never have amassed the power and the contacts that I have. I never would have been elevated to the Court.” She gestured to the crowd of vampires below, the courtyard, the darkness. “In a way, all of this is your doing.”