my door.
Will Borden didn’t look like a werewolf. He was about five five, five six, and built like an armored car, all flat, heavy muscle. He wore glasses, his brown hair was cut short and neat, and you would never have guessed, from looking at him, that he and his friends had been responsible for a forty percent drop in crime in a six-block radius around the University of Chicago—and that didn’t even take into account the supernatural predators that had been driven away and that now avoided the neighborhood. Strictly speaking, I probably should have arrested him as a known vigilante.
Of course, strictly speaking, I wasn’t a cop anymore. I wouldn’t be arresting anybody. Ever again.
That thought hit my stomach like a lead wrecking ball, and no amount of bravado or discipline could keep it from hurting. So I turned away from it.
I answered the door, and said, “Hello, Will.”
“Sergeant Murphy,” he said, nodding at me. “Got a minute?”
“It’s early,” I said, not bothering to correct his form of address.
“I need your help,” he said.
I took a deep breath through my nose.
It wasn’t as though I had to go to work. It wasn’t as though I had a hot date waiting for me.
Part of me longed to slam the door in Will’s face and go back to bed. I’d always thought that kind of selfish reaction had been a fairly small portion of my character. Today, it felt huge.
The house was silent and empty behind me.
“Okay,” I said. “Come in.”
I SEATED HIM at the kitchen table and went back to my room to put on clothes that looked a little less pajama-like. When I came back out, Will had gotten the coffeepot going, and brew was already a finger deep in the little glass pitcher.
I popped some bread in the toaster and watched it carefully to make sure it didn’t burn. My toaster was an old one, but even so I didn’t need to be watching it. It just gave me something to do until the coffee was done.
I took the finished toast and coffee to the table, a bit for each of us, and set out a jar of strawberry preserves. Will accepted the food readily and, naturally, wolfed it down. We did all of that in silence.
“Okay,” I said, settling back in my chair and studying him. “What help?”
“Georgia’s gone,” he said simply.
I kept myself from wincing. Georgia was Will’s wife. They’d been together since they were barely out of high school. They’d learned to be werewolves together, apparently. I liked them both. “Tell me.”
“Work had me out of town,” he said. “Omaha. Georgia is getting ready to defend her dissertation. She stayed home. We both watched the news—about Dresden’s office building and the terrorists at the FBI. We were worried but . . . I got a call from her late last night. She was . . .” His face became pale. “She was almost incoherent. Terrified. She wasn’t making any sense. Then the call cut off abruptly.” His voice shook. “She was screaming. I tried to call the cops, but . . .”
I nodded. “But if it was something bad enough to make her scream, there wouldn’t be much the cops could do to help. And between the bombing and the attack, they were all overworked, anyway. They’ll get to it as soon as they can.”
“Yeah,” Will said. “So I left a message with Dresden’s service and came back to Chicago. The apartment door was broken, maybe kicked in. The place was a wreck.” He swallowed. “She was gone. And I couldn’t pick up a trail. I went to Harry’s place, but . . . There was still smoke coming up from what was left. Then I came here.”
I nodded slowly. Then I asked, “Why?”
He blinked and looked at me as if I’d broken out into a musical number. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“He always told us that if we ever needed him but couldn’t find him, we were supposed to go to you. That you were the person in this city who could help us better than anyone else.”
I stared at him for a minute. Then I said, “Yeah. I can just see him saying that.” I shook my head. “And never bothering to mention it to me.”
I’ll give Will credit—he was obviously terrified, but he managed to try a joke. “He probably thought you were formidable enough without the confidence boost from something like that.”
“Like I need his approval to be confident,” I muttered. I studied Will