Blood Rites (The Dresden Files #6) - Jim Butcher Page 0,77

lifted his brows, looking up from his food. "Do you know where it is?"

"Not yet," I said.

Kincaid glanced at his watch, and then went back to his food. "I'm on a schedule."

"I know that," I said. "I'll find them today."

"Before sundown," Kincaid said. "Suicide to go at them after dark."

Murphy scowled at Kincaid. "What kind of attitude is that?"

"A professional one. I have a midnight flight to my next contract."

"Let me get this straight," Murphy said. "You'd just walk away because these murdering creatures didn't fit into your schedule?"

"Yes." Kincaid kept eating.

"It doesn't bother you that innocent people might die because of them?"

"Not much," Kincaid said, and took a sip of coffee.

"How can you just say that?"

"Because it's the truth. Innocent people die all the time." Kincaid's fork and knife scraped on his plate as he sliced up some ham and eggs. "They're better at it than your average murdering monster."

"Jesus," Murphy said, and stared at me. "Harry, I don't want to work with this asshole."

"Easy, Murph," I said.

"I'm serious. You can't condone his attitude."

I rubbed at my eyebrow with a thumb. "Murph, the world is a cruel place. Kincaid didn't make it that way."

"He doesn't care," Murphy said. "Are you sure you want someone who doesn't care about what we're doing along when things go to hell?"

"He agreed to go and fight," Harry said. "I agreed to pay him. He's a professional. He'll fight."

Kincaid pointed a finger at me and nodded, chewing on another bite.

Murphy shook her head. "What about a driver?"

"He'll be here today," I said.

"Who is he?"

"You don't know him," I said. "I trust him."

Murphy looked at me for a second and then nodded. "What are we up against?"

"Black Court vampires," I said. "At least two, and maybe more."

"Plus any help they might have," Kincaid said.

"They can flip cars with one hand," I said. "They're fast. Like, Jackie Chan fast. We can't go toe-to-toe with them, so the plan is to hit them in daylight."

"They'll all be asleep," Murphy said.

"Maybe not," Kincaid said. "The old ones don't need to sometimes. Mavra could be functional."

"And what's more," I said, "she's a practitioner. A sorceress at least."

Kincaid inhaled and exhaled slowly through his nose. He finished the bite he was on, and then he said, "Shit," before taking another.

Murphy frowned. "What do you mean, a sorceress at least?"

"Kind of an industry term," I said. "Plenty of people can do a little magic. Small-time stuff. But sometimes the small-timers practice up, or tap into some kind of power source and get enough ability to be dangerous. A sorcerer is someone who can do some serious violence with magic."

"Like the Shadowman," Murphy said. "Or Kravos."

"Yeah."

"Good thing we got a wizard along then," Kincaid said.

Murphy looked at me.

"Wizard means that you can do sorcery if you need to," I said, "but it also means you can do a lot of other things too. A wizard's power isn't limited to blowing things up, or calling up demons. A good wizard can adapt his magic in almost any way he can imagine. Which is the problem."

"What do you mean?" Murphy said.

"Mavra is good at veils," I said, mostly to Kincaid. "Real good. She did some long range mental communications last night, too."

Kincaid stopped eating.

"You're saying that this vampire is a wizard?" Murphy asked.

Kincaid stared at me.

"It's possible," I said. "Maybe even likely. It would go a long way toward explaining how Mavra survived all this time."

"This mission is heading for downtown FUBAR," Kincaid said.

"You want out?" I asked.

He was silent for a minute and then shook his head. "But if Mavra is awake and active, and if she's able to start tossing heavy magic around in closed quarters, we might as well drink some Bacardi-and-strychnine and save ourselves some walking."

"You're afraid of her," Murphy said.

"Damn right," Kincaid said.

She frowned. "Harry, can you shut down her magic? Like you did with Kravos?"

"Depends how strong she is," I said. "But a wizard could handle her. Probably."

Kincaid shook his head. "Magical lockdown. I've seen that work before," he said. "One time I saw it fail. Everybody died."

"Except you?" I asked.

"I was in back, covering our spellslinger when his head exploded. Barely made it out the door." Kincaid pushed a piece of sausage around his plate. "Even if you can shut her down, Mavra's still going to be real tough."

"That's why you get to charge so much," I said.

"True."

"We go in Stoker-standard," I said. "Garlic, crosses, holy water, the works."

"Hey," Murphy said. "What about that pocketful-of-sunshine thing you