Blood Rites (The Dresden Files #6) - Jim Butcher Page 0,126
said get out."
He blinked his eyes a few times and whispered, "A hard lesson. The hardest."
Then he left.
I refused to watch him go.
Chapter Thirty-Six
I sat in the silence of the old man's departure and felt a lot of things. I felt tired. I felt afraid. And I felt alone. The puppy sat up and displayed some of the wisdom and compassion of his kind. He wobbled carefully over to me, scrambled up onto my lap, and started licking the bottom of my chin.
I petted his soft baby fur, and it gave me an unexpected sense of comfort. Sure, he was tiny, and sure, he was just a dog, but he was warm and loving and a brave little beast. And he liked me. He kept on giving me puppy kisses, tail wagging, until I finally smiled at him and roughed up his fur with one hand.
Mister wasn't about to let a mere dog outdo him. The hefty tom promptly descended from his perch on my bookshelf and started rubbing himself back and forth under my hand until I paid attention to him, too.
"I guess you aren't nothing but trouble," I told the dog. "But I already have a furry companion. Right, Mister?"
Mister blinked at me with an enigmatic cat expression, batted the puppy off the couch and onto the floor, and promptly lost interest in me. Mister flowed back down onto the floor, where the puppy rolled to his feet, tail wagging ferociously, and began to romp clumsily around the cat, thrilled with the game. Mister flicked his ears with disdain and went back up onto his bookshelf.
I laughed. I couldn't help it. The world might be vicious and treacherous and deadly, but it couldn't kill laughter. Laughter, like love, has power to survive the worst things life has to offer. And to do it with style.
It got me moving. I dressed for trouble—black fatigue pants, a heavy wool shirt of deep red, black combat boots. I put on my gun belt with one hand, clipped my sword cane to the belt, and covered it with my duster. I made sure I had my mother's amulet and my shield bracelet, sat down, and called Thomas's cell phone.
The phone got about half of a ring out before someone picked it up and a girl's frightened voice asked, "Tommy?"
"Inari?" I asked. "Is that you?"
"It's me," she confirmed. "This is Harry, isn't it."
"For another few hours anyway," I said. "May I speak to Thomas, please?"
"No," Inari said. It sounded like she had been crying. "I was hoping this was him. I think he's in trouble."
I frowned. "What kind of trouble?"
"I saw one of my father's men," she said. "I think he had a gun. He made Thomas drop his phone in the parking lot and get into the car. I didn't know what I should do."
"Easy, easy," I said. "Where was he taken from?"
"The studio," she said, her voice miserable. "He gave me a ride here when we heard about the shooting. I'm here now."
"Is Lara there?" I asked.
"Yes. She's right here."
"Put her on, please."
"Okay," Inari said.
The phone rustled. A moment later Lara's voice glided out of the phone and into my ear. "Hello, Harry."
"Lara. I know your father is behind the curse on Arturo, along with Arturo's wives. I know they've been gunning for his fiancée so that Raith can get Arturo back under his control. And I have a question for you."
"Oh?" she said.
"Yeah. Where is Thomas?"
"It excites me when a man is so subtle," she said. "So debonair."
"Better brace yourself, then," I said. "I want him in one piece. I'm willing to kill anyone who gets in the way. And I'm willing to pay you to help me."
"Really?" Lara said. I heard her murmur something, presumably to Inari. She waited a moment, I heard a door close, and the tone of her voice changed subtly, becoming businesslike. "I am willing to hear you out."
"And I'm willing to give you House Raith. And the White Court with it."
Shocked silence followed. Then she said, "And how would you manage such a thing?"
"I remove your father from power. You take over."
"How vague. The situation isn't a simple one," she said, but I could hear a throbbing note of excitement in her voice. "The other Houses of the White Court follow House Raith because they fear and respect my father. It seems unlikely that they would transfer that respect to me."
"Unlikely. Not impossible. I think it can be done."