Dead Beat (The Dresden Files 7)

"They tailed me all day. I've got to make sure the people I've seen today are all right." I paused, thoughts tearing through my head. "And... I've got to find the book."

"The necromancer's book?" Butters asked. "Why?"

I got out my keys and headed for the Beetle. "Because I have no freaking clue what's supposed to be happening at this Darkhallow. The only part that I understood enough to stop was the summoning of the Erlking, and that's been blown to hell. I keep getting burned because I don't know enough about what's going on. I've got to figure out how to throw a wrench into Cowl's gears during the Darkhallow."

"Why?"

"Because the only other thing I can do is try to kick my way through a crowd of necromancers and undead and try to punch his ticket face-to-face."

"Wouldn't that work?"

"If I could pull it off," I said, and went out into the rain. "But I'm a featherweight fighting in the heavyweight division. Nose-to-nose, I think Cowl would probably kick my eldritch ass. My only real chance is to fight smart, and that means I've got to know more about what's going on. For that, I need the book."

Butters hurried after me, a couple of fingers through Mouse's collar. We got into the Beetle and I revved it up. "But we still haven't figured out those numbers," he said.

"That has to change," I said. "Now."

"Um," said Butters as I got the Beetle moving, "you can say 'now' all you want, but I still don't know."

"Could it be a combination?" I said. "Like to a safe?"

"The older safe combinations need some kind of designation for left and right. The newer ones might use some kind of digital code, sure, but unless you find a safe with a password sixteen numerals long, that won't help us much."

"A credit card," I said. "That's sixteen digits, right?"

"Can be," Butters said. "You think that's what the number was? Maybe a credit card or debit card account that Bony Tony wanted his fee to get paid to?"

I grimaced. "Doesn't make any sense," I said. "Something like that would be in his pocket. Not hidden in a balloon hanging from a string down his throat."

"Good point," Butters said.

We rode in silence for a while. Except for the headlights of other cars, the streets were dark. Between the total lack of lighting, the dark, and the heavy rain, it was like driving through a cave. Traffic was tight and snarled anywhere near the highways, but it had thinned out considerably since the afternoon. The people of Chicago seemed to mostly be staying home for the night, which was a mercy in more ways than one.

Butters looked around nervously a few minutes later. "Harry. This isn't exactly the best neighborhood."

"I know," I said, and pulled over in front of a hydrant, the only open space in sight.

He swallowed. "Why are you stopping the car?"

"I need to check on someone," I said. "Stay here with Mouse. I'll be right back."

"But- "

"Butters," I said impatiently. "There's a girl here who helped me out earlier today. I have to make sure Cowl and his sidekick haven't harmed her."

"But... can't you do this after you stop the bad guys?"

I shook my head. "I'm doing my best, here. I don't know what might happen in the next few hours, but dammit, this girl helped me because I asked her to. I dragged her into this. Cowl and Kumori were going to considerable lengths to destroy every copy of der Erlking that they could find, and if they guessed that I got it from her memory she'll be in danger. I need to be sure she's all right."

"Oooooh," Butters said. "This is the girl who asked you out, right?"

I blinked. "How did you know that?"

"Thomas told me."

I growled under my breath and said, "Remind me to punch his lights out sometime soon."

"Hey," Butters said. "At least he didn't let me keep thinking you were g*y."

I gave Butters a flat look and got out of the car. "Stay in the driver's seat," I told him. "If there's trouble, run. Try to circle back for me."

"Right," Butters said. "Got it."

I hurried through the rain and the darkness into Shiela's building. I drew out my pentacle and willed light from it, and went up the stairs to her floor as I had that morning. The stairs and the hallway had that illusory unfamiliarity that darkness can give a place you've seen only once or twice, but I found my way to Shiela's door easily enough.

I paused for a moment and tried to sense the wards she'd woven, and found that they were still in place. That was good. If anyone had come in after her for some reason, they'd have either torn the ward down or set it off on the way through.

Unless, of course, someone had gone to the trouble to get invited in first. Shiela didn't seem to be the kind to turn folks away out of a sense of general paranoia. I knocked several times.

There wasn't an answer.

She had said she was going out, earlier. She was probably at some costume party somewhere. Talking with friends. Eating good food. Having fun.

Probably.

I knocked again and said, "Shiela? It's Harry."

I heard a couple of soft steps, the creak of a floorboard, and then the door opened to the length of its security chain. Shiela stood in the opening. There was soft candlelight coming from her apartment. "Harry." she said quietly, her mouth curling into a smile. "What are you doing here? Hang on." She closed the door, the security chain rattled, and then she opened it again. "Come in."

"I really can't stick around," I said, but I stepped through the door anyway. She had half a dozen candles lit on the end table beside her couch, and there was a mussed blanket on the couch next to a paperback novel.

Shiela's long, dark hair was piled up into bun and held in place with a couple of chopsticks, leaving her ears and the smooth skin of her neck intriguingly bare. She was wearing a Bears football jersey made of soft cotton that hung to her knees, and she wore pink slippers on her feet. The jersey was loose on her, but she had the curves to make it look more appealing than it had any right to be. I could see her calves, and they did a wonderful job of blending softness and strength.

Shiela saw me looking, and her cheeks turned a little pink. "Hi," she said, her voice quiet.

"Hi," I said back, and smiled at her. "Hey, I thought you had a party tonight?"

She shook her head. "I was walking. I didn't want to walk in the rain, and I couldn't call anyone to get me a ride, so I'm home." She tilted her head to one side and frowned at me. "You seem... I'm not sure. Tense. Angry."