Turn Coat (31 page)

Ebenezar’s jaw tensed up. “That’s not the same thing as saying we should arrest him.”

Listens-to-Wind faced Ebenezar stolidly. “If what he says is so, the truth will come out. We can postpone a trial so that if this evidence exists, it can be found.”

“You know as well as I do,” Ebenezar said, “that the outcome of the trial is not going to be changed by the truth.”

Listen-to-Wind’s voice became hard and rough, holding a deep and burning anger that I had never heard from the old man before. “There is the world that should be,” he growled, “and the world that
is
. We live in one.”

“And must create the other,” Ebenezar retorted, “if it is ever to be.”

Listens-to-Wind looked down and shook his head. He looked very old and very tired. “There are no good paths to choose, old friend,” he said quietly. “All we can do is choose if many die, or a few.” He looked up at me, his face hard. “I am sorry, Hoss Dresden. But I must agree. Arrest him.”

Chapter Forty-one

D
emonreach allowed me to sense Billy and Georgia slinking closer, and to feel an uncertain sense of excitement that could have been tension or fear or anger coming from them. It had a much more vague idea of the emotions of the Wardens, but I could tell that they weren’t eager to start a fight with me.

Which made me want to laugh. I mean, seriously. One on one, sure, maybe I could have been a handful for any of them. But there were
three
members of the Senior Council there, any one of which could have tied me in knots. And they had me outnumbered five to one, beyond that.

And then it hit me. They were dealing with something far more dangerous than me, Harry Dresden, whose battered old Volkswagen was currently in the city impound. They were dealing with the potential demonic dark lord nightmare warlock they’d been busy fearing since I turned sixteen. They were dealing with the wizard who had faced the Heirs of Kemmler riding a zombie dinosaur, and emerged victorious from a fight that had flattened Morgan and Captain Luccio before they had even reached it. They were dealing with the man who had dropped a challenge to the
entire
Senior Council, and who had then actually
showed
, apparently willing to fight—on the shores of an entirely too creepy island in the middle of a freshwater sea.

Granted, I technically was that person, but they had no idea how close several of those calls had been. They didn’t know the small details, the quirks of fate, or the assists from allies I probably didn’t deserve that allowed me to shamble out of those clouds of insanity in more or less one piece.

They just knew that I was the one still standing—and that fact inspired a healthy and rational fear. More than that, they were afraid of what they
didn’t
know I could do. And none of them knew that I would
so
much rather be back in my apartment, reading a good book and drinking a cold beer.

I didn’t move when Listens-to-Wind made his statement. I just stood there, as if I wasn’t much impressed. The Council had evidently sent the three Senior members as a kind of quorum, and I would think that the word of two of them would be enough to decide a course of action—but the oldest of the Wardens there, a large man with a big black beard whose name was Beorg, or Yorg, or Bjorn—definitely Scandinavian—turned to look at Ebenezar.

The wizard of the Ozarks stood looking at me, a small smile on his face. I recognized the smile. When I’d first gone to live with him, after I’d killed my foster father, we would go into town every week for supplies. A gang of teenage boys, bored, reacted to the presence of a new boy with typical adolescent thoughtlessness. One of them had tried to get me to fight him.

At the time, I remember being annoyed at the distraction from my day. Because I had just wiped out a major demon and a former Warden of the White Council in a pair of fair fights, local teenage bullies were really kind of beneath my notice. They were kids playing a game, and I had grown older very quickly. I could have killed them, all of them, without too much trouble, but the very idea was laughable. It would have been like using a flamethrower to clean cobwebs out of the house.

I’d stood there, just looking at them, while they tried to tease me into fighting. I hadn’t moved, or said anything, or done anything. I just stood there in a wall of silence and stillness, until that silence had become heavier and heavier. They had eventually been pushed back by it, and I had simply walked past them.

And I was doing the same thing again, letting the silence fuel their uncertainty.

I met Ebenezar’s gaze, and we both smiled faintly in acknowledgment of the memory.

“Well, gentlemen,” Ebenezar said, turning to face the Wardens. “You’ve heard the will of the Council, such as it is. But you should be advised that since you’d be doing something foolish at the behest of someone acting foolish, I won’t be assisting you.”

Mai’s head snapped around to focus on Ebenezar. “McCoy!”

Ebenezar bowed his head to her. “Wizard Mai, I would advise you not to seek a quarrel with the young man. He’s a fair hand in a fight.”

The old woman lifted her chin haughtily. “He was not truly your apprentice. You kept watch over him for a mere two years.”

“And came to know him,” Ebenezar said. He turned to eye Listens-to-Wind. “What did that raccoon pup you had think of him? You go on about what good judges of character young animals can be. Is he the sort of man who would involve himself in that kind of plot? You know the answer.”

Listens-to-Wind shook his head tiredly. “It isn’t about that and you know it.”

“If you do not assist us in subduing him,” Mai said, her voice crisp and thrumming with tension, “it could be considered treason, Wizard McCoy.”

“I am assisting you,” Ebenezar said. “By advising you to avoid conflict.” He paused and said, “You might try asking him.”

“Excuse me?” Mai said.

“Asking him,” Ebenezar said. He hooked a thumb in one strap of his overalls. “Ask him politely to come with you back to Edinburgh. Maybe he’d cooperate.”

“Don’t bother, sir,” I said. “I won’t.”

“Ancient Mai,” rumbled Warden Bjork. “If you would please return to the boat, we will see to this.”

I remained just as I’d been standing, and hoped that the others would be arriving soon. I didn’t want to start up the dance music until everyone had taken the floor, but if the Wardens pressed me, I might need to.

“Ancient Mai,” Warden Yorgi repeated. “Do you wish us to—”

He didn’t get to finish the phrase before there was a deafening roar and a helicopter swept over the hillside behind us, flying about an inch and a half above the treetops. It soared past us and then banked around in a turn over the lake, only to return and hover thirty feet above the shoreline, maybe a hundred yards away.

In the movies, special forces guys come zipping down on lines. I’ve even been the guy on a line once, sort of, though I was more sack of meal than Navy SEAL. But when the people jumping off the helicopter are vampires, you don’t bother with a lot of lines.

Or any lines. At all.

Three figures in white leapt from the hovering chopper, neatly flipped once on the way down, and landed together in a dancer’s crouch. Then they all rose, the movement as beautiful, smooth, and coordinated as anything you’d see at the Cirque du Soleil.

Lara and her two sisters walked toward us, and they were good at it. Lara was wearing a white sundress that showed off her curves, with two black leather belts that crossed on her hips. A handgun in a holster hung from one of the belts. The other belt supported a sword, a genuine rapier whose worn handle looked as if it had seen actual use. Her long black hair was pulled up in a net, and the top of her head was covered in a white cloth, a very Gypsy sort of look. She wore a choker made of pure platinum, the metal seeming to hold its own glow, even in the failing light, and a single large bloodred ruby hung from it.

As she walked, it was impossible not to notice the gorgeously feminine curves of her body, the casual sway of her hips from side to side, each movement emphasizing the fact that she carried deadly weapons. And, since it was raining on her white dress, it was impossible not to notice a whole lot of other things about Lara—such as the fact that other than the weapons and her shoes, it was all she was wearing.

I concentrated on keeping my tongue from hanging down past my chin, and forced my eyes to look elsewhere.

Her sisters were wearing much different gear. Though they also wore white, they had both donned what looked like motorcycle leathers—not like archetypical American bikers, but more like the gear you see professional racing motorcyclists wearing. It looked very high-tech, and was obviously armored. In standard gear, the armor was heavy plastic, there to protect the rider in the event of a collision or a fall. I was willing to bet that it had been upgraded to something a lot stronger in the Raith’s gear. They, too, were equipped with sidearms of both the past and present. Their hair was tied up and back, and like Lara, their skin was pale, their eyes were wide and grey, their lips dark and inviting.

I watched the three Raith sisters come and thought to myself that if there was any justice in the universe, I would get to watch that in slow motion.

Alas.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mai calmly lift a hand to Warden Berserkergang, motioning him to stand down. It didn’t surprise me. Ancient Mai had very strong notions of proper behavior and how it ought to be followed. She would never condone observable division amongst members of the Council where outsiders could witness it.

Lara stopped twenty feet away, and her sisters stopped a couple of feet behind her. Their eyes were on the Wardens, who returned the vampires’ stares with calm attention.

“Harry,” she said, her voice warm, as if we’d just run into one another at a soiree. “You are a wicked, wicked man. You didn’t tell me I’d have to share you with others tonight.”

“What can I say?” I asked, turning to face Lara. I smiled at her and bowed my head without taking my eyes off her. It was a more enjoyable paranoia than I’d observed for the Wardens, if no less wary. “I used to be a trusting, gentle soul, but the rigors of the cruel world have made me cynical and cautious.”

Lara looked from the Wardens to me, her expression speculative. Then she gave them a smile that could have melted plate steel and walked to me, somehow making a swagger look perfectly feminine. She extended both hands to me as she came.

I smiled in return, though mine was a lot stiffer and more artificial, and whispered, through my smiling teeth, “You have got to be kidding.”

She cast her eyes down demurely, toning the smile down to a smirk, and breathed, “Be nice to me, wizard mine, and I’ll return the favor.”

I don’t think I hesitated very long before I offered her my hands in return. We clasped them. Her fingers were silken-smooth and very cold. She smiled radiantly and inclined her head to me, a slow, graceful, formal gesture.

Then, faster than I could blink, much less move, she smacked me in the kisser.

She used her open hand, which prevented the blow from being a lethal one. Even so, it hit like a club. It knocked me several steps back, spinning me as I went, and I wound up caught in a drunken corkscrew that ended with my ass hitting the ground ten feet away.

“Once again you have
lied
to us,” Lara snarled. “
Used
us. I have had my fill of your deceits, wizard.”

I sat there with my mouth open, wondering if my jaw would start wobbling bonelessly in the rising breeze.

Fury radiated from her in a cold sphere, and every fiber of her body looked ready to do violence. She faced me with the members of the Council on her left, the darkness of the forest on her right. I focused on my shield bracelet, certain that there was every possibility that she might be about to draw her gun and plug me.

“If my brother is not returned to me whole this night,” she continued, her voice cold and deadly, “there will be blood between us and my honor will not be satisfied until one of us lies dead on the dueling ground.”

And then she winked at me with her right eye.

“Do you understand?” she demanded.

“Uh,” I said, trying to move my jaw. It was apparently whole. “Yeah. Message received.”

“Arrogant child.” She spat on the ground in my direction. Then she turned and walked purposefully toward the Senior Council members. She stopped about ten feet from Ancient Mai, just before the Wardens standing behind her would have snapped and started hurling thunder and fury. She came to a graceful stance of attention, and then bowed, rather deeply, to Ancient Mai.

Mai’s face revealed nothing. She returned the gesture, bowing less deeply.

“It is a pleasure to meet you in the flesh,” Lara said. “You must be Ancient Mai.”

“Lara Raith,” Mai replied. “I had not anticipated your presence at this meeting.”

“Nor I yours.” She gave me a rather disgusted glance. “Courtesy, it seems, is a devalued commodity in this world.” She bowed again, to Ebenezar and Listens-to-Wind, and greeted them by name. “Your reputations, gentlemen, precede you.”

Injun Joe nodded without speaking.

“Lady Raith,” Ebenezar said, calmly. “Touch that boy again and the only things left for your kin to bury will be your five-hundred-dollar shoes.”

“Ai ya,”
Ancient Mai said in a flat tone.

Lara paused at Ebenezar’s statement. It didn’t rattle her, precisely, but she gave Ebenezar another look and then inclined her head to him. “Gentlemen, lady. Obviously we both have urgent concerns that must be addressed. Equally obviously, none of us anticipated the presence of the other, and a violent incident would benefit no one. On behalf of the White Court, I propose a formal agreement of nonaggression for the duration of this meeting.”

Ancient Mai gave Ebenezar a hard look, then lifted her chin slightly and turned away, somehow giving the impression that she had formally dismissed him from reality. “Agreed,” she said. “On behalf of the Council, I accept the proposal.”

I managed to stagger back to verticality. My wounded head felt like Lara had split it open, and I’d have a hand-shaped bruise on my cheek, but I wasn’t going to sit there moaning about getting slapped by a girl. Granted, the girl was hundreds of years old and could change a fire truck’s tires without using a jack, but there was a principle at work here. I got to my feet and then walked carefully over to stand beside Ebenezar, facing the vampires. One of the Wardens there made a little room for me, all his attention focused forward on Lara and her sisters.

Heh. They were much more comfortable with me when I was aimed at an enemy. I tried to keep a running portion of my awareness focused on Demonreach. I had done as much as I could in assembling this group. I was counting on my estimate of the killer to take it to the next level, and until he showed up, I had to keep stringing both Lara and the Council along.

The best way to do that, for the moment, was to keep quiet and let them talk.