I felt the residue of dark magic all over the damned thing. I didn’t know what kind of leather it was bound with, but it wasn’t from a cow. I slipped it into my duster’s pocket.
“We’re putting a lot of trust in you, Dresden,” Bock said. He didn’t meet my eyes while he did. He just looked tired.
“I know,” I said gently. “Your shooter there is going to need medical attention. You don’t want to go to a hospital, bring him round the castle in the morning. Doc will be visiting. Won’t be any charge.” I swept my gaze around the room. No one wanted to meet my eyes except April, who gave me the not-quite-eye-contact gaze of a magical practitioner.
I nodded at her. “You know basic cleansing rituals?”
“Of course,” she said. She looked around at the half-wrecked store. “Might take some time.”
“Yeah,” I said. I nodded to Bock and looked regretfully around the store. The chicken, saved from sacrifice, came walking out of the havoc,made a couple of quiet sounds, and scratched at a fallen book before defecating on it. “Um. Sorry about the mess.”
“Just go,” Bock said.
I left.
I didn’t exactly feel good about it. I’d leaned on them pretty hard.
I mean, for their own good, yeah. I’d been playing pillow fight compared to what the Wardens would have done to them. And it had required leverage and power to get them to even consider changing course.
But I still felt like a bully.
Speaking of which, I would have to have a word with Daniel.
And Carl.
Chapter
Thirty-Three
Daniel and I sat at the base of a building across the street from Mac’s place, dressed in layers of mismatched secondhand clothes, and watched the traders in the little bazaar. It was a cold day, but this part of town was still without power and living by the weird values of that temporary between-time of an emergency. Despite the cold, most of the traffic was on foot. There were more people about than usual, even with the reduced population.
Daniel took a sip of hot chocolate from a battered old thermos and watched the people across the street with haggard eyes. He bowed his head and rested it against his wrist for a moment.
“Nice,” I said. “You look like an old drunk that way.”
“Hah,” he muttered.
“You sure you should be out here?” I asked him.
“God’s blood,” Daniel said quietly. “Given what’s been going on, I damned well should be.”
He offered me the thermos, and I took some chocolate into my own cup. His hand shook, pouring. After getting out from under the curse, he’d been in rough shape. Probably needed a few more rest days before he hit the gym again.
I sipped some chocolate. The sun was going down, and the air was beginning to bite. I found it pleasant.
Daniel shivered and drank more hot chocolate.
“What I mean is,” I said, “are you sure you’re up for this?”
“If I’m not, I shouldn’t be leading the Brotherhood,” he said firmly. His eyes looked past me and locked on something beyond me. “We’ll know in a minute.”
I didn’t lift my head, just my eyes. I could see a group coming down the sidewalk toward the bazaar. I couldn’t see faces with my peripheral vision, but it pretty much had to be Carl and crew. I could read in their body language the focus upon the bazaar as they approached, the intention in their tension. They were looking for trouble.
The folks in the bazaar saw them and started scurrying.
Which told me most of what I needed to know, right there.
I glanced aside at Daniel. The young man was looking hard at the members of the Brotherhood people were fleeing from. He was a soldier and had his mother’s eyes. He could do a good hard look.
