Blood Rites (The Dresden Files #6) - Jim Butcher Page 0,72

me the same thing."

"Well," I said. "This changes things some."

"Does it?" he asked. He looked uncertain as he said it, frail.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm not saying that we're going to start from a fresh slate. But things are different now."

"They aren't for me, Harry," Thomas said. He grimaced. "I mean… I knew this already. It's why I tried to help you wherever I could."

"I guess you did," I said quietly. "I thought you were just saving up for a favor. But you weren't. Thank you."

He shrugged. "What are you going to do about Arturo?"

I frowned. "Protect him and his people, of course. If I can. What did Lara mean when she said that Arturo's independent streak was a matter for the White Court?"

"Damned if I know." Thomas sighed. "I thought he was just someone Lara knew from the industry."

"Does your dad have any connection to him?"

"Dad doesn't advertise what he's doing, Harry. And I haven't spoken more than twenty words to him in the last ten years. I don't know."

"Would Lara?"

"Probably. But ever since Lara worked out that I wasn't just a dim-witted ambulatory penis, she's been on her guard when we've talked. I haven't been able to get much out of her. So now I mostly sit there and nod and look wise and make vague remarks. She assumes that I know something she doesn't, and then she thinks the vague remark is actually a cryptic remark. She wouldn't want to move on me until she's figured out what it is I'm hiding from her."

"That's a good tactic if people are paranoid enough."

"In the Raith household? Paranoia comes bottled, on tap and in hot and cold running neuroses."

"What about your dad? He know any magic?"

"Like maybe entropy curses?" Thomas shrugged. "I hear stories about things he's done in the past. Some of them must be close to true. Plus he's got a huge library he keeps locked up most of the time. But even without magic, he can just rip the life out of anyone who pisses him off."

"How?"

"It's like when we feed. It's usually slow, gradual. But he doesn't need that kind of time or intimacy. Just a touch, a kiss, and wham, they're dead. That whole kiss-of-death thing in The Godfather! He was where that phrase originated, only for him it was literal."

"Really?"

"Supposedly. I've never seen him do it myself, but Lara has, plenty of times. Madeline once told me once that he liked to open conversations that way, because it made sure he had the complete attention of everyone still breathing."

"Stories. Supposedly. For someone on the inside, your information isn't real helpful."

"I know," he said. "I'm not thinking clearly right now. I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "Can't throw stones."

"What do we do?" he asked. "I'm… I feel lost. I don't know what to do."

"I think I do," I said.

"What?"

Instead of answering him, I offered him my hand.

He took it, and I drew my brother to his feet.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I waited until the predawn gloom had become full, dismal, rainy morning to leave Chateau Raith. Thomas helped me pull a few things together while I waited, and I borrowed a phone to make some calls.

After that, the puppy and I got back in the Beetle, hit the drive-through at McDonald's, and puttered back home to my apartment. I got out of the car and noticed a couple of blackened spots on the ground. I frowned and looked closer, discovering that they were in a methodical pattern. Someone had been trying to force their way past my wards, the magical protections I'd set up around the boardinghouse. They hadn't broken through them, but the fact that someone or something had tried made me more than a little uncomfortable. I got the shield bracelet ready to go as I went down the stairs, just in case, but nothing frustrated from fruitless attempts to break in was waiting for me. Mister appeared from under my landlady's car and followed me down the stairs.

I got into my apartment fast and shut the door behind me. I muttered a spell that lit half a dozen candles around the room, and braced myself for Mister's greeting. He made his usual attempt to bulldoze my legs out from under me with his shoulders. I put the puppy on the floor, where he panted happily at Mister, wagging his tail by way of friendly greeting. Mister did not look impressed.

I kept moving, trying to stay focused. I didn't think I had any time to waste. I