Dead Beat (The Dresden Files 7)

She regarded her folded hands, eyes narrow. "Dresden," she said quietly. "The White Council is at war. Would you simply abandon your own people to the mercies of the Red Court? Would you stand aside and let Kemmler's disciples have their way?"

"Of course not," I said. "And I never said I wouldn't fight. But I won't be wearing this." I shoved the cloak across the table. "Keep it."

She shoved it back to the table before me. "Put it on."

"Thank you, no."

"Dresden," Luccio said, and her voice was calm and agate-hard. "It is not a request."

"I don't respond well to threats," I said.

"Then respond to reality," she snapped. "Dresden, the Wardens are all but shattered. We need every battle-capable wizard we can recruit, train, or conscript."

"A lot of wizards can fight," I growled.

"And they aren't Harry Dresden," she said. "You idiot. Don't you know what I am offering you?"

"Yeah. The chance to hunt down teenage kids who were never told the Laws of Magic and execute them for breaking them. The chance to badger and intimidate and interrogate anyone who doesn't suit me. Neither of which I want anything to do with."

"Ebenezar said you were stubborn, but not that you were a fool. The Council has been betrayed, Dresden. And you are the most infamous wizard in it. There are many who have spoken out against you. Many who say that you began the war with the Red Court intentionally so that you could create an opportunity to bring about the fall of the Council.

I burst out in bitter laughter. "Me? That's insane. For crying out loud, I can't even balance my stupid checkbook!"

Luccio's eyes softened a little, and she sighed. "I believe you." She shook her head. "But you have a reputation, and the members of the Council will be badly unsettled by this loss. Their fear could easily turn upon you. That is why you are going to join the Wardens."

I scowled. "I don't get it."

"It is time to set our past differences aside. If you wear the cloak of a Warden and step in to fight when the Council is in its hour of need, it will make our people look at you differently."

I took a deep breath. "Oh. Vader syndrome."

"Excuse me?"

"Vader syndrome," I said. "There's no ally so impressive, encouraging, and well loved as an ally who was an enemy that made you shake in your boots a couple of minutes ago."

"There's more to it than that," Luccio said. "I think that you do not realize your own reputation. You have overcome more enemies and battled more evils than most wizards a century your senior. And times are changing. There are more young wizards attaining membership to the Council than ever before-like Ramirez and his companions, there. To them, you are a symbol of defiance to the conservative elements of the Council, and a hero who will risk his life when his principles demand it."

"I am?"

"You are," Luccio said. "I can't say that I approve of it. But right now the Council will need every scrap of courage and faith we can muster. Your presence and support in the face of a greater danger will appease your detractors, and the presence of a wizard who has experience in battle will encourage the younger members of the Council." She grimaced. "Put simply, Dresden, we need you. And you need us."

I rubbed at my eyes for a moment. Then I said, "Let's say I do sign on. I'm willing to wear the cloak. I'm willing to fight for as long as the war is on. But I won't move away from Chicago. There are people here who depend on me." I glowered. "And I won't bow my head to Morgan. I don't want him within a hundred miles of my town."

Luccio rubbed at her jaw, and then nodded slowly, her eyes thoughtful. "I have to reassign Morgan in any case." She nodded again, more sharply. "Then I'm conscripting you into the Wardens as a regional commander."

I blinked.

"You'll be in charge of security and operations in this region, and coordinate with the other three American regional commanders."

"Uh," I said. "What does that mean?"

"That it will be your job to protect mortals in this area. To be vigilant against supernatural threats in your region, and represent the Council in matters of diplomacy. To aid and assist other wizards who come to you for aid and protection, and, when required, to strike out at the enemies of the Council, such as the Red Court and their allies."

I frowned. "Uh, I pretty much do that anyway."

Luccio's face broke into the first genuinely warm smile I'd ever seen on her, the care lines vanishing, replaced with crow's-feet at the corners of her eyes. "So now you'll do it in a grey cloak." Her expression sobered. "You're a fighter, Dresden. If the White Council is to survive, we need more like you."

She pushed away from the table and walked over to the bar, carrying our empty bottles with her.

When she came back, I had just finished getting the cloak pin settled and draping the heavy, soft grey fabric around my shoulders. She stopped in front of me and looked me up and down for a moment. Ramirez glanced at me, and his grin widened. Morgan looked, and from his expression you would think someone had just shoved a knife into his testicles. Mac's brow furrowed, and he studied me in the cloak, his lips quietly pursed.

"Thank you," Luccio said quietly, and offered me an ale.

I accepted it with a nod. We touched bottles and took a drink.

"Very well then, Commander," Luccio said, her tone turning brisk and businesslike. "This is your territory, and you have the most recent intelligence on Kemmler's disciples. What is our next step?"

I shoved my hair back from my eyes and said, "Okay, Warden Luce-uh, Captain Luccio. Let's sit down and get to work. It's getting dark, and we don't have much time."

Chapter Thirty-two

When I walked through the door of Murphy's house, it was raining and I was still wearing the grey cloak. I limped into the kitchen, where Thomas and Butters and Bob were sitting at a table with a bunch of candles, paper, pencils, and empty cans of Coors.

Thomas's jaw dropped open. "Holy crap," he said.

Butters blinked at Thomas and then at me. "Uh. What?"

"Harry!" Bob said, orange eye lights glowing brightly. "You stole a Warden's cloak?"

I scowled at them and took the cloak off. It dripped all over the kitchen floor. "I didn't steal it." Mouse came padding into the room, tail wagging, and I rubbed briefly at his ears.

"Oh," Bob said. "So you took it off a body?"