Blood Rites (The Dresden Files #6) - Jim Butcher Page 0,153
You drink Mac's beer until you crash on my couch. We'll figure out what you do next when you're rested. Okay?"
"Okay," he said. "Thank you."
I took him back to my apartment and spent the rest of the morning trying to collect on bills a few people still owed me. I didn't have much luck. I spent the rest of the day applying for loans, and had even less luck. Bank guys get so hung up about things like bad credit histories and people who fill in the "occupation" blank of the application with wizard. I guess it could have been worse. I could have been filling out the reason the loan was needed with pay off mercenary for services rendered.
By the end of the day, my hand hurt so badly that it had begun to cut through the painkillers, and I was exhausted. On the way out of the last bank, I forgot what my car looked like for a minute. I missed my street and had to drive around the block, but I missed it the second time, too. I managed to get home before I completely lost sentience, staggered past Thomas and Mister and the puppy asleep on the couch, and collapsed onto my bed.
When I woke up, it was Tuesday morning.
I found myself nervously looking around for the bright red dot of a laser sight to appear on my nose while I was in the shower with a plastic trash bag over my bandaged hand. I got dressed, got on the phone, and called Kincaid's number, then waited for him to return the call.
It took less than three minutes. "It's Dresden," I told the phone.
"I know. How's the hand?"
"I saw this great Swiss Army prosthesis with all these different attachments, but my hopes got crushed. I'm keeping the original."
"Damn shame," Kincaid said. "You need another contract?"
"Wanted to talk about the last one," I said. "Uh, I mean, I know you said Tuesday, but I'm still getting some assets turned into cash." I wasn't lying to him. I hadn't sold all my used paperbacks yet, or dipped into my comic collection. "I need a little more time."
"What are you talking about?"
"Time. I need more time."
"For what?"
"To get your money," I said, leaving out the word dolt. See? I can be diplomatic.
"The money got here hours ago."
I blinked.
"You can pay me twice if you like," Kincaid said. "I won't stop you. Anything else?"
"Uh. No. I don't think so."
"Don't call me again if it isn't business." He paused. "Though I want to give you a piece of advice."
"What's that?" I asked, cleverly hiding my confusion.
"She went down pretty easy," Kincaid said. "Mavra, I mean."
"Yeah. 'Cause of your groovy cutting-edge vampire-hunting weapon, I guess. Thanks."
"It's paid for," he said. "But I mostly gave it to you to make you feel better. And to make sure you didn't shoot me by accident."
"What about what you said about how cool a weapon it was?"
"Dresden. Come on. It's a paintball gun. Mavra's world-class bad news. I expected it to chew apart newbie vamps, sure. You think Mavra would have tottered on out of the smoke to let you kill her? Nice and dramatic like that? If you buy that one, I got a bridge to sell you."
I got a sick, sinking little feeling in my stomach. "It was her," I said.
"How do you know?" he asked.
"Well. Because… she was wearing the same outfit," I said. "Son of a bitch. That sounds really lame, even to me. One corpse looks a lot like another. It could have been a decoy."
"Could," he said. "So my advice to you, Dresden. Watch your back."
"Gee. Thanks."
"No charge." He paused for a second as someone spoke in the background, then said, "Ivy says to tell your kitty hello for her." He hung up.
I put the phone down, thoughtful. When I turned around Thomas was sitting up on the couch. Silently he offered me the business card with Kincaid's account number and the amount of the bill on it.
"Found it in the laundry," he said.
"You didn't have to do that," I said.
"I know," he replied.
"You really have that much money?"
He shook his head. "Not anymore. That was pretty much everything I'd set aside. I hadn't made a lot of plans for independence. I figured I'd either be dead or running things. I've got about fifty bucks to my name now."
I sat down on the couch. The puppy snuffled me with his nose and wagged his tail in greeting.