White Night Part 16

"If we repeat it often enough, maybe we'll even believe it," I said. "Let's go."

CHAPTER Seventeen

Ramirez's contact number went to a restaurant his family ran in eastern Los Angeles. I left a message with someone whose English sounded like a second or third language. It took Ramirez only about ten minutes to call me back.

"White Court?" my fellow Warden said. "Can't think as I've heard anything about them lately, Harry."

"How about a professional wizard investigator?" I asked him. "Works out of Los Angeles."

"Elaine Mallory?" he asked. "Tall, pretty, smart, and nearly as charming as myself?"

"That's the one," I said. "What do you know about her?"

"Far as I know, she's straight," he said. "Moved to town five or six years ago, college in San Diego, and working for an investigative agency out here. She's got a decent grounding in thaumaturgy from somewhere, but when I ran her through the standard tests, she didn't score quite high enough to be considered for Council membership." He was quiet for a second, before saying, in a tone of forced cheer, "Unless we keep on losing people to the vamps, in which case I guess we might lower our standards."

"Uh-huh," I said. "But you think she knows what she's doing?"

"Well," Ramirez drawled, "I hinted that she might want to advertise as something other than a 'wizard,' eventually. If we get the time to look away from the war, some hidebound dinosaur might take exception to someone claiming the t.i.tle."

I snorted. "Don't call me a dinosaur. It isn't fair to the dinosaurs. What did a dinosaur ever do to you?"

"Other than give me a ride right next to this big skinny lunatic? Mallory's not stupid, and she's done people some good out here," Ramirez said. "Lost kids, especially. Couple of exorcisms I wouldn't have had time to handle. Maybe she can be of some help to you. Though I've got one reservation about her."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Her taste in men. I keep asking her out, and she's turned me down about a dozen times, now."

"Shocking," I said.

"I know," Ramirez replied. "Makes me wonder how smart she could really be. Why?"

I gave him the brief on what I knew about the murders, and on what Elaine had told me about the other cities.

"Someone's framing the Wardens," he said.

"Looks that way. Sow seeds of distrust and all that."

"Five cities. b.a.s.t.a.r.ds." He paused to say something off the phone, and then told me, "Hang on. I'm pulling the file on recent White Court reports."

I waited a few more minutes. Then he came back and said, "According to what we've heard out on this end, the White King has met with emissaries from the Council under a flag of truce, and declared a temporary cease-fire. He's agreed to approach the Reds about sitting down to negotiate an end to the war."

"I've met him," I said. "Kissinger he ain't. Gandhi, neither."

"Yeah. Sorta makes you wonder what he's getting out of the war ending, don't it."

I grunted. "There's not a lot of love lost between the Reds and the Whites. A cease-fire won't cost him anything. His people don't get involved in the messy stuff anyway."

Ramirez let out a thoughtful hum. "The way you tell it, looks like maybe not everybody in the White Court agrees with his take on the war."

"They're pretty factional. Triumvirate of major houses. Raith happens to be on top right now. If Raith is pushing for peace, it would be consistent for the other major houses to oppose it."

"Gotta love those vampires. So arbitrarily contrary."

"Say that five times fast," I said.

He did, flawlessly, rolling the Rs as he went. "See there?" he said. "That's why the ladies love me."

"It's not love, Carlos. It's pity."

"As long as the pants come off," he said cheerfully. Then his voice turned more sober. "Dresden, I've been meaning to call you. Just... wanted to see how you were doing. You know. Since New Mexico."

"I'm good," I told him. "I'm fine."

"Uh-huh," Ramirez said. He sounded skeptical.

"Listen," I said. "Forget New Mexico. I've forgotten it. We need to move on, focus on what's in front of us right now."

"Sure," he said, without conviction. "You want to fill in the Captain or should I?"

"Go ahead."

"Will do," he said. "You need any backup out there?"

"Why?" I asked. "You got nothing to pay attention to where you are?"

He sighed. "Yeah, well. All the same. If the Whites are trying to shut down the peace talks, I could pry a few of the boys loose to come help you boot some head."

"Except I don't yet know whose head it is or how to boot it," I said.

"I know. But if you need help, it's here."

"Thanks."

"Watch your a.s.s, Dresden," he said.

"I'd tell you to do the same, but you probably gaze at your own a.s.s in admiration all the time anyway."

"With an a.s.s like mine? Who wouldn't?" wouldn't?" Ramirez said. Ramirez said. "Vaya con Dios." "Vaya con Dios."

"Happy trails."

I hung up the phone and leaned back in the chair, rubbing at my still-aching head. I closed my eyes and tried to think for a minute. I thought about how much my head hurt, which was nonproductive.

"Harry?" Molly asked me.

"Hmmm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Um..." She was quiet for a moment, as though thinking about her words before she spoke.

That got my attention.

"I'm just wondering why you were asking Warden Rodriguez about Elaine Mallory."

I closed my eyes and tried thinking again.

"I mean, Sergeant Murphy said she was your ex. But you asked about her as if you didn't know her."

I mumbled something.

"So I figure that means that you do know her. And you wanted to know what Warden Rodriguez knew about her, without him knowing that you already knew her." She took a deep breath and said, "You're keeping secrets from the Wardens."

I sighed. "For years, kid. Years and years."

"But... I'm under the Doom of Damocles, and that means you are, too. This is the kind of thing that could make them decide to invoke it. So, um... why are you doing it?"

"Does it matter?" I asked.

"Well," she said, her tone cautiously diffident, "since I could get beheaded over this just as much as you can, it matters to me. And I think that maybe I deserve to know."

I started to growl at her that she didn't. I stopped myself because she had a point, dammit. Regardless of how inconvenient I thought it, she did have an undeniable right to ask me about it.

"I was an orphan," I told her. "A little while after my magic came to me, I got adopted by a man named DuMorne. He's the one who gave me most of my training. He adopted Elaine, too. We grew up together. Each other's first love."

Molly set her book aside and sat up, listening to me.

"DuMorne was a warlock himself. Black wizard as bad as they come. He planned on training us up to be his personal enforcers. Trained, strong wizards, under mental compulsion to be loyal to him. He nailed Elaine with it. I got suspicious and fought him. I killed him."

Molly blinked. "But the First Law..."

"Exactly," I said. "That's how I wound up living under the Doom of Damocles myself. Ebenezar McCoy mentored me. Saved my life."

"The way you did for me," she said quietly.

"Yeah." I squinted at the empty fireplace. "Justin burned, and I thought Elaine did, too. Turned out years later that she had survived, and was in hiding."

"And she never told told you?" Molly demanded. "What a b.i.t.c.h." you?" Molly demanded. "What a b.i.t.c.h."

I gave the apprentice a lopsided smile. "The last time she'd seen me, I had been busy murdering the only thing like a real parent she'd ever had, and had apparently tried to kill her, too. It isn't a simple situation, Molly."

"But I still don't get why you lied about her."

"Because I had a bad time of it, coming out from under DuMorne's corpse the way I did. If the Wardens knew that she'd been there too, and fled the Council rather than coming out to them..." I shrugged. "Looks like she's managed to convince Ramirez that she doesn't have enough power to be considered for the Council."

"But she does?" Molly asked.

"She's nearly as strong as I am," I said quietly. "Makes up for it in grace. I'm not sure what would happen if the Wardens learned DuMorne had a second apprentice, but there would be trouble. I'm not going to make that choice for her."

"In case I haven't told you this before," Molly said, "the Wardens are a fine bunch of a.s.sholes. Present company excluded."

"There isn't any easy way to do their job," I said, before amending, "our "our job. Like I said, kid. Nothing's simple." I pushed myself slowly to my feet and found my keys and Mouse's lead. "Come on," I told her. "I'll drop you off at your place." job. Like I said, kid. Nothing's simple." I pushed myself slowly to my feet and found my keys and Mouse's lead. "Come on," I told her. "I'll drop you off at your place."

"Where are you going?"

"To talk to the Ordo," I said. "Anna's got them all holed up with Elaine."

"Why don't you just call them?"

"This is a sneak attack," I said. "I don't want to warn Helen Beckitt that I'm on the way. She's got an angle in this; I'm sure of it. It's easier to get people to talk if you get them off balance."

Molly frowned at me. "You sure you don't need my help?"

I paused to glance at her. Then at the bead bracelet on her wrist.

She clenched her jaw, took off the bracelet, and held it up with defiant determination, staring at the beads. Three minutes and two beads later, she gave it up, gasping and sweating at the effort. She looked bitterly frustrated and disappointed.

"Nothing's simple," I told her quietly, and put the bracelet back on her wrist for her. "And nothing much is easy, either. Be patient. Give it time."

"Easy for you to say," she said, and stomped out to the car, leading Mouse.

She was wrong, of course. It wasn't easy.

What I really wanted to do was get down a little food and go to bed until my head felt better. That wasn't an option for me.

Whoever the Skavis was, and whatever he was up to, there wasn't a lot of time to figure it out and stop him before he added another victim to his tally.

CHAPTER Eighteen

The Amber Inn is a rarity in downtown Chicago: a reasonably priced hotel. It isn't large or particularly fancy, and it wasn't designed by an architect with three names. No one infamous has owned it, lived in it, or been machine-gunned to death there. Thus, stripped of anything like a good excuse to stick it to the customer, one needn't schedule a visit to a loan officer in tandem with making a reservation, even though the Amber Inn is fairly central to Chicago.