Harbinger - Dresden Files

[Zeelthor]

Title: Harbinger

Rating: R for pretty much the same stuff that'd show up in any Dresden Files novel.

Pairings: Canon Dresden/Susan at the start, but beyond that, I've no intent to write any shipping. Part of my challenge to myself with this fic.

Summary: Dresden wakes up from a nightmare that he can't shake and his day just keeps on getting stranger. Add to that his sometimes apprentice coming to him for help with high questionable magic, and werewolves rampaging through Chicago and it looks to be a busy week.

A/n: This is my non-shippy time-travel (with a twist) AU. This first story starts just before the beginning of Fool Moon and I plan to do several of the future books as well, going increasingly AU along the way. If you have any thoughts on alternate paths characters of Dresden Files might've ended up on due to a single choice happening differently at some point, feel free to share.

***

The world was on fire… And it was all my fault.

Have you ever had a dream that stuck with you even after you wake up? A dream where the borders between sleep and waking were so horribly muddled that each bled into the other and you couldn't tell which was which? A thing of such stark, agonizing clarity that you would swear on your life that it had all been real.

Yeah… not my best morning ever.

I shot out of bed, half tangling in sweat-soaked sheets, and stumbled into the adjoined cupboard of a bathroom. There, I fell to my knees on the cold linoleum and threw up violently into the toilet bowl.

Even with my eyes open, the visions swam before me. Darkness. A living, breathing, slithering darkness, its oily tendrils ever encroaching upon our world. Rivers of blood, spilling over their banks and running down the streets. Death. So much death that I couldn't separate each pale, lifeless face that flashed before me.

I threw up until there wasn't anything left, spitting bile into the bowl and clutching at the porcelain to stay upright. I felt too weak to rise, so once I was done, I just lay there curled up into a ball, shivering.

"Jesus Christ, Harry," said a voice behind me. It was a familiar woman's voice, soft and smoky, though the shock suffusing the words made them come out high and sharp.

I wiped at my mouth, got up on my knees, and flushed the toilet, slowly turning around and finding Susan Rodriguez standing in the doorway, her brown eyes wide and worried.

For a single, horrible instant, I saw her laid out underneath me, tears flowing from eyes turning into a tarry pitch black as an older, rougher-looking version of myself brandished a jagged obsidian knife and slashed her throat. I flinched as I felt the hot droplets of scarlet splash across my face, turned back to the toilet and gagged as my stomach twisted and turned around inside of me.

"Are you okay?" Susan wondered, settling beside me.

I flinched when she draped an arm around my shoulders and she seemed to take the hint, moving back half a step.

"No," I said, spitting into the bowl and rising slowly. "Maybe I'm pregnant."

"Harry-"

"I mean, I haven't had a period in 28 years."

Susan scowled at me. "You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

"I have seen a ghost," I told her. "Granted, it was a while ago, but-"

"For fuck's sake, Harry!"

Susan knew me well enough to know why I was being a smartass as well as I did. I was scared. I didn't want her to know that, though, so I brushed past her.

"Just a nightmare, Susan," I murmured.

I walked over to my sink and rinsed my mouth with cold water, splashing my face in hopes of clearing the cobwebs of sleep from my mind.

Susan sidled up next to me carefully and wrapped an arm around me. "I've seen you have nightmares," she said. "That was not a nightmare. That was something else."

She wasn't wrong. It sure felt like something different. I tried not to let any of the concern show as I faced her.

"I'll live."

She rolled her eyes at me. "Spare me the macho bullshit, please."

"Hell no," I said, grabbing my toothbrush and applying a healthy dollop of toothpaste onto it. "Next thing I'll be peeing sitting down and enjoying Nicholas Sparks' books. It's a slippery slope Susan and I, for one, refuse to go down it."

She smiled wearily. "You'll tell me when you feel ready, right?"

"I promise." It wasn't a lie. I just wasn't sure I'd ever be ready. I could still feel the blood on my face, hot and sticky and reeking of copper.

She watched me as I brushed my teeth and didn't say anything. I could all but hear the creaking of gears turning, though. Susan Rodriguez was not one to leave a mystery unsolved. So I adopted a tactic long used by wizards in the face of an unwinnable fight – I skedaddled.

"I'm going to wash up," I told her. "I'm meeting Kim later."

"Fine," Susan muttered. "I'll let you brood on your own. Call me?"

"Yep. Will do."

She sounded a little bit hurt, which sucked, but I couldn't think of a way of talking this out with her. Not before I'd figured what the fuck was going on – and believe you me – something was going on.

Which was why, when the rest of the day rolled on by without a single weird thing happening, I got increasingly paranoid. My spider-sense was tingling but nothing was jumping out of the shadows going "Boogidy boo!"

By the time I arrived at Mcanally's, with dusk setting in, I was considering if the rigors of my wizardly life were just getting to me and driving me loopy. The place calmed me down a little with its familiarity, the scent of grilled meat and potatoes wafting my way, the dim light, the hand carved pillars and furniture.

Then a young woman with shiny black hair turned around in her chair and for an instant I could see her head toppling off her shoulders, rolling across a floor that wasn't Mac's, and settling with her green eyes, cold and filmy, staring up at me in silent accusation.

I had to hold on to one of the hand-carved pillars just to stay standing. I panted, blinking my eyes and straightening once more. The vision had disappeared as soon as it had come, but I had a lingering feeling the conversation Kim wanted to have with me wasn't going to be something I'd enjoy. As if the day could get any worse.

Kim was already sipping on a beer and I vaguely recalled her promising me a hot meal and a drink if I wanted them in exchange for a chat about something. After a long day of soul-searching and stray cases, all of them resulting in a sum total of fuck-all, it was a bargain I would happily make.

"Mac," I said. "Whisky, beer and a steak sandwich, please."

Mac, the tall, spare bartender raised an eyebrow at me. I waved him off. I've never been much of a drinker, especially not of the hard stuff… But it had been one hell of a long day and for some reason this felt like the appropriate response.

"What he said," Kim Delaney added. "And another round of the same for me."

Mac shrugged and grabbed two bottles of beer, setting them on the counter. He grabbed an old dusty unlabeled bottle and poured two fingers of scotch into two glasses, then promptly ignored us both as he focused on the food. I picked up the drinks at the bar – Mac was of the firm opinion that if you wanted the drinks, or the food, you could damn well grab it yourself – and returned with each to Kim.

She chuckled. "Going big tonight, huh?"

I'd worried a little that the scotch might've edged towards being presumptive with her generosity, but apparently not. Kim raised her glass, sniffed it, and nodded in approval as she held it out toward mine. We clinked glasses. I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to do that with whisky, but I'm American, what do I know? The drink burned my throat going down and I relished the feeling.

"I've had a rough day," I told her.

She watched me, frowning. I'd taught Kim for a while now and though she didn't quite have the talent to make it into the White Council, her powers weren't anything to scoff at, either. She knew a little bit about the things that lurked in the shadows of our city, and the things I'd faced. Her eyes burned with curiosity, but she didn't press. I appreciated that.

"Looks like," she said, running a finger along the neck of her bottle of beer in a nervous gesture before catching herself and folding her hands in her lap instead.

"Yeah, well… I'll live and that's not why you wanted to meet up," I said. "Ask away."

Kim hesitated for a moment. Then she reached into her coat and fished out a piece of paper with a drawing on it that nearly had me choking on my second sip of scotch.

It looked innocent enough at first glance: Three circles of scrawling, spidery design, each outside the other, each with its own clear purpose. A ward against flesh, a ward against spirit, and a ward against something that was both and neither… But as I stared at the crude drawing, I could see, as clear as daylight, a full-size replica on fine hardwood floors, disturbed by an uncaring hand to the ultimate detriment of a young woman laying headless in a pool of blood beside it.

"Where did you get this?"

Kim blinked in surprise. "That's not – I saw it in a book and copied it down."

I wasn't sure if she was lying to me… But I was sure she wasn't telling me everything.

"You don't need to know what this is, Kim," I said. "You don't even want to know."

"Oh come on, Harry. I'm not some helpless kid you need to protect."

In magical terms, she was, but I felt that would've been counter-productive to point out. Go go gadget diplomatic skills. As my sort-of apprentice, I had responsibilities toward her. Talking to non-members of the White Council about some of the things Kim seemed to be taking an interest in was a big no-no.

"Look, Harry. I'm not going to use it for any big evil summoning. I just want to find out what it does."

I considered stonewalling her for a second, just like the Council would've done… But the Council were a bunch of assholes and I'd be damned if I risked my friend's health because of their collective lack of testicular fortitude.

"It's a greater circle," I told her. "The kind you'd use to trap things you're nowhere near ready to deal with yet."

"Oh. So what're these?" She pointed at a couple of squiggly lines and I squinted at them.

"Those are the key symbols that connect the whole thing… Listen to me, Kim. This is not stuff you want to mess with."

"I'm not going to-"

I glared at her and it must've looked more wizardly than expected because Kim stopped talking.

"Listen to me," I repeated, my voice cold and hard in a way that felt and sounded alien to me.

"You've probably figured out by now that we're not the only wizards out there. There are rules for this stuff. There's people enforcing those rules, and they're a bunch of assholes. You don't want to mess around with this stuff."

Kim's eyes widened. I'd always been very selective with what I'd told her and right this moment I couldn't remember why. Hell, better I tell her than let her wade in ignorant and die because of it, right?

I was forgetting something. It itched at the back of my mind but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out just what it was. I was about to press on when I heard Mac clear his throat behind me. I looked and saw two plates with potatoes, green beans, and truly glorious steak awaiting me.

Kim mulled things over while I fetched the food and for a while, we made small talk. Kim was doing some kind of charity thing trying to save the planet and things weren't going great. I told her about one of my sillier cases where I'd had to exorcise the ghost of an old lady who was taking offense at the unmarried upstairs couple and their premarital sex, and was happy to let them know about it.

It wasn't until we'd finished off our beer and our meal that she tried to broach the subject of the circle again.

"So how does it work- technically?"

I looked at me, my mood quickly deteriorating again. "Why do you want to know?"

"It's just a-"

"It's not an academic interest," I said, cutting across her. "If you want to know, that's the price."

She gave me a sulky expression that was at odds with the fact that she was only a year or two younger than I was and her eyes drifted for a moment down to the food. She ran her fingers through dark locks in frustration and a single strand fell to the table. I managed a wry smile.

"I'm not that kind of wizard, Kim. I'm not going to be putting out just because you bought me dinner."

She snorted out a laugh and downed the rest of her scotch. "Fine. I need it to help a friend."

"Uh-huh. And what does he need you to help him with?"

"A protection circle."

The door to Mac's little tavern was flung open and a short blonde came through. Her blue eyes swept the place and locked down on me with all the lethality of a guided missile.

"Dresden," said Karrin Murphy. "Got a moment?"

"Officer Murphy," I said. "You don't call. You don't write. You sure know how to make a wizard feel special."

Murphy's lips thinned. "There's a situation."

She refused to say the words. 'I need your help.' She was too proud. But that was what she meant.

"Yeah. Of course there is." I downed the last of my whisky and washed it down with the beer. "Call me tomorrow, Kim, and we'll talk."

She flicked a nervous glance in Murphy's direction, but nodded. "Okay."

"Make good choices."

I left feeling reasonably sure she'd actually do it, but I snagged the strand of her hair as I walked past her on the way out just in case, wrapping it up in the drawing of her protection circle. At least she wasn't as stubborn an apprentice as… Someone. I shook my head. What was the matter with me today?


***

"So," Murphy said a while later, drumming her fingers along the steering wheel of her car. "Who was your date?"

"She wasn't a date. Just someone I know who wanted my advice."

Murphy had super cop powers and could pretty much always tell when I was lying. So I didn't lie. Not exactly, anyways.

"Advice on what?"

Maybe I was feeling a little bit petty considering how she'd treated me over the past few months. Then again, wizards weren't supposed to talk about magic and even less about the fact that there were a lot of us walking around in the world. Either way, I didn't tell her about who Kim really was.

"No lies this time, Dresden," she said, and her tone carried a note of warning. "No secrets. There's enough shit flying with Internal Investigations and politicians. I don't have time to deal with that from you, too."

I winced. "There's stuff I can't tell you, Murphy. I want to, believe me, but I can't always share every single detail of this stuff."

"You will when we're on the clock."

It hurt to hear the outright hostility in her tone. I'd always considered Murphy a friend but it was clear that the sentiment wasn't something she returned right now.

"It's between Kim and I. If it somehow is relevant to what you need help with, I promise I'll let you know. Is that good enough for you or do you want it signed in blood?"

It might've come out a little bit more bitter and childish than I'd wanted it to.

The silence grew tense and I was glad when we arrived at a building out by Rosemont. There were cops there already, and the building had been sealed off with tape. The Varsity. A moment later, we got close enough to see the sign hanging above the double doors. The Varsity - hang on.

I froze mid-step and shook my head. Huh. Deja vu.

"What's going on, Dresden?" Murphy asked, her voice touched with impatience.

"A glitch in the Matrix," I said, blinking. "It's nothing. Let's go."

I rubbernecked to make sure Agent Smith wasn't about to whack me, and followed her past the cops watching the place, hopping over the tape where she went under it.

The building was still unfinished, a barren husk of concrete, steel and timber. Tools and supplies lay scattered everywhere.

"Marcone's new place, huh?" I said as we walked inside.

Murphy didn't reply and a moment later I realized why when the stench hit me. For just a moment, time froze and at the same time, sped up. I looked at the two men who lay dead on the floor, eviscerated and mangled, and took in all the details. Glass smashed from outside, now scattered all over the floor. Someone had busted in. Injuries no human being could've managed without some very inventive tools. Two big, bad chicago thugs laying curled up on the floor in a fetal position, trying in vain to protect their vital organs before they were ripped out.

A footprint in the dust of something like a dog, but larger, and with sharper claws. Outside, a full moon hung bright and fat in the sky.

I snapped out of it again and found Murphy staring at me.

"Jesus Christ, Dresden. Are you okay?"

"I don't know," I said. I really didn't.

"What's the matter with you?"

I blinked and, again, I could see her as I had when she'd walked into Mac's pub. Older, scarred, but still straight-backed and ferocious. I bent over and collected a bloody shard of glass, wrapping it lightly in a hankie and putting it in my pocket.

"I really don't know. I woke up this morning and - Never mind. It's not important." I pointed toward the footprint on the floor. "Uh- I think you've got a werewolf problem, Murph."

Murphy winced. "I was really hoping werewolves were just a myth."

I shook my head. "Sorry. They're real. Nothing like the movies, but-"

There was some noise from outside, arguing by the sounds of it, and a moment later the doors banged open and in came the agents. Well, not those agents, but the FBI IDs were plenty problematic.

"Goddamnit," Murphy said. "How do those assholes get-"

"Everywhere so fast?" I filled in.

Murphy gave me a look and I had a feeling she had a few things to say if she'd had time. She didn't.

The agents moved in unison and with a graceful, confident stride. There were four of them. The leader, a tall fit man in his early forties, a young red-headed kid, a woman in her thirties whose hair had gone prematurely gray, and an overweight man in his early fifties with beady little eyes.

"Secure the scene," said the man obviously in charge. "Lieutenant Murphy, what the hell are you doing on a crime scene out of your jurisdiction?"

"Just taking a look."

I watched the others start securing and checking out the crime scene. There was something off about all of this. They didn't seem surprised by anything that they found and seemed more interested in Murphy than the bodies.

He swept his gaze from Murphy and then to me, his gray eyes calculating. "And who is he?"

"Nobody," Murphy said quickly.

"If Internal Affairs heard about this they would be thrilled." Denton said.

It could've been a threat, but I had a feeling it wasn't. Not really. Murphy seemed to disagree, and she scowled up at Denton.

"This connects to one of my cases. I'm well within my rights to be here."

"Maybe," Denton said, shrugging. "But for your own sake, I think it's best we assume you and your friend simply walked in here by accident. Agent Benn, please escort these two civilians outside."

The gray-haired woman, Benn, advanced on us and I could feel the potential violence in the air. There was something not quite right about Benn. Something in her eyes. It made my stomach wriggled around uneasily and, again, I didn't snap out of it until there was a sudden flash of movement.

Benn went for Murphy in a grab, but she wasn't fast enough, not by a long shot. Murphy caught the woman's strike and used the momentum to send her hurtling into the wall. Benn gathered her bearing in less than a second and her hand plunged into her jacket. I reacted on instinct.

"Forzare!"

Benn produced her gun and a moment later, the wave of kinetic force slammed into her from below and to one side, catching her gun-hand and pinning it up against the concrete.

"Drop it," I said, keeping my hand leveled and holding my focus on her. "Denton. Let's not have things go completely off the rails here."

I cast a sideways glance at them and saw all three FBI agents staring at me. Oh. I'd just used magic in front of a bunch of muggles. I usually tried not to do that. The reaction was very rarely a good one.

"Denton," I repeated, my voice hard. "Tell her - to drop - the gun."

Benn had her teeth bared and her free left hand was moving toward her jacket again to get another weapon.

"Don't," I warned her.

I could see panic in the red-headed kid's eyes. "Deborah - Don't!"

"Agent Benn," Denton said, his voice carrying implacable authority. "Drop the gun."

She flicked a glance at the older man and some of the tension drained from her.

"It's alright," Denton said, his voice soft and slow. "Nobody's hurt. Drop the gun."

Benn flicked the safety of her gun and let it fall to the floor. She cast me a furious look that unsettled me far more than it should have, and the moment I let go of the spell, she stormed out.

"You must be Harry Dresden," Denton said, as though we hadn't been seconds from a shoot-out. "I've heard of you."

"Cool," I said, making a show of ignoring him. "Murphy. I think we've got everything we need here."

Murphy cast me a long, calculating look, and then nodded. "Yes. I think we have."

"Great," I said, waving a hand to the scene behind me. "Have at it."

A vein pulsed and throbbed at Denton's forehead. Things had not gone as he'd planned, but my display had shaken him enough that he didn't seem to want to push his luck. Good.

Murphy and I didn't talk until we were safely back in her car and on our way out of the driveway to the Varsity.

"What the hell was that, Dresden?"

She may have been pissed. "Magic," I said. "I figured you didn't want the crazy FBI chick ventilating your brains."

"You assaulted a FBI agent."

"With magic. I don't think that'd hold up in a court of law."

"They can still make your life miserable."

I snorted. "Any more than it already is? Doubt it."

"God damn it, Dresden," she muttered, but she was smiling just a little. You had to know her, but it was there.

"Come on," I said. "Did you see the look on Denton's face?"

She actually did smile that time around and I leaned back in my seat, pleased.

"Werewolves. They're actually real? Seriously?"

"Yeah. My mentor never really covered them much, so I'll need to do some research."

She swore under her breath. "Anything else?"

I shrugged. "Got some blood off the floor. I'll need to see where that leads, and there's the goons. They were Marcone's guys."

"Marcone," she said, with more venom than the earlier swearing. "I think I'd rather take the werewolves."

"Me too. Pull over here."

Murphy pulled over into the parking lot of a McDonalds and I managed to pull together a quick tracking spell before too many people started staring at the idiot drawing a chalk circle on the tarmac and smearing some blood over a compass. With the spell complete, I returned to the car and pointed back toward the way we'd come.

"That way."

Murphy heaved a sigh and steered us back toward Chicago. We drove in circles for a while to triangulate on the location my tracking spell was pointing toward, but eventually, we found our way to an abandoned department store.

I took a few long paces to get ahead of Murphy.

"Let me take the lead, and don't shoot unless you've got to. Werewolves are people - most of the time."

Murphy nodded. She already had her gun and flashlight at the ready. I got my own gear ready, blasting rod and shield bracelet in my hands, my mother's pentacle invested with power and emitting light blue wizard's light.

The place was boarded up and seemingly deserted like several venues in this part of town and nobody seemed to have cared enough to lock up. We made our way inside with Murphy just behind me and to my side - enough so that she could shoot if something reared its head and that she'd still be within the protections of my shield.

The area inside was barren, shelves empty, floors covered with dust… Dust that had been disturbed both by the footprints of human feet and paws. I followed my tracking spell to the back of the store where, in a pool of moonlight seeping in from above, a group stood gathered around a lit lantern.

And, oh God, I recognized them all. Billy. Georgia. Marci. Andi. Kirby. Others, whose names I'd forgotten, but how could I have? More importantly, how did I know them at all? We'd never met.

And yet I knew them all. They looked different. Billy was pudgy and awkward-looking. Andi, too. They all wore outfits somewhere in between bikers and goths and it was not a flattering blend.

"I'm telling you," Billy snarled at Georgia, "that we should be out there right now. We can't allow ourselves to rest until we've found them all and torn them apart."

Torn them apart? Who, though?

"I swear, Billy," Georgia said. "You're such a testosterone-laden idiot. If we were out there right now, they might catch on to us."

They kept on snarking like that, all but brimming over with sexual tension. These were our werewolves alright. I could hear Murphy approach from behind me and raised my arm on pure reflex in a tightly clenched fist. She stopped beside me, eyes questioning what the hell I was doing.

"Trust me," I whispered, and stepped out into the light.

"I'm Harry Dresden. I just wanna talk. Everyone stay calm."

They did not stay calm. Every single one of them whipped around in varying states of shock.

"Who are you?" Billy snapped, taking a step to the side to cover Georgia. The tall girl scoffed and pushed past him.

"Harry Dresden: I literally just told you."

Georgia frowned. "The wizard?"

I nodded. "The one and only. This here's my sidekick, Murphy."

"Your what?"

I shushed her and knew that there'd be hell for that to pay later, but Murphy stepped back to let me handle things.

"What're you doing here?" Billy asked with more than a light touch of bravado in his voice.

"I'm looking for werewolves. She's looking for a murderer. I'm pretty sure you're the first and I'm pretty sure you're not the second, but…" I plucked the shard of bloody glass out of my pocket and brandished it. "One of you left blood at the scene, which means you'll know a lot of useful stuff."

At the mention of blood and the reveal of my prop, several of them went pale. They weren't entirely ignorant about the significance of what I held in my hands.

"So," I continued. "I thought we'd sit down and have a nice, peaceful conversation over a cup of coffee. We might not even have to go downtown. What do you say?"

Which, of course, was when the real werewolves attacked.

 

[Zeelthor]

There is a lot of stuff for Dresden to fix, that's for sure. Anyways, here's more!


***

In case you've never seen a wolf before, they're pretty damn big. These wolves were huge. Oh, and there were four of them.

One charged towards the crowd of kids who were already beginning to scatter and make a run for it, but the other three headed straight for me.

In the wild, wolves generally hunt stuff bigger than they are. They hunt in packs, tiring their prey down with the chase, surrounding it, and taking it down slowly to avoid injuries. These wolves didn't do that. They came at me like charging linebackers.

Fortunately, I'd come prepared for a fight, and I had a solution that worked for just about any occasion. I pulled out my gun.

The wolves scattered the moment the first rays of moonlight shone off the polished metal, and my shot went wide as they disappeared into the dark. I emptied the remaining five chambers, trying in vain to track the wolves movement, then dropped the gun and went for my blasting rod.

The wolves clearly knew about guns - which implied a great many things, none of which were good - and the moment my weapon clicked on an empty chamber, they came hurtling out of the shadows. Fortunately for me, and unfortunately for them, they didn't seem to know as much about magic.

"Fuego!"

Fire burst forth from the tip of the blasting rod and lit up the interior of the building as I drew a sleuthing arc from the floor and up to waist level. In that scarlett light I could see the werewolves up close. Huge, dark shapes, that were definitely too big to be ordinary wolves.

Three of them ended up caught in the wake of my spell. One managed to dart in behind a concrete pillar, which the fire cut a gash several inches deep into, and another managed to come to a halt and hop backwards and out of harm's way. The third, the bulkiest of the lot, got unlucky and got caught where my control began to slip and the fire grew wide and unfocused.

They yipped in alarm, fear, and in the case of the last, a lot of pain, scattering back to the edges of the darkness.

Gunshots cracked from behind me, and sparked on the floor by the wolves' feet. They were very clearly intentional warning shots and that finally seemed to convince the werewolves it was time to bail, half-dragging the burnt one out of there.

I had a moment to feel pretty good about myself before all those years of schooling paid off, and I remember what four minus three equaled. I slammed power into my shield by sheer reflex, pouring my panicked realistation into the bracelet, and as a concave disc formed along my left arm, the last werewolf appeared out of the shadows.

It was more slender than the others - maybe a female - and its fur was a charcoal gray. It slammed straight into my shield and I felt the impact rock me back an inch across the concrete floor. The excess energy bled through the sloppy design of my shield bracelet as heat, and I winced when it singed my wrist.

The wolf, snout bloodied, watched me for a split second with an eerie, calculating gaze, and I tore my eyes away from it as I felt the first tug of a soulgaze beginning.

Behind me, a series of snarls rose, and the last of the werewolves quickly darted away.

A chill crept along my spine as I came to realise that I was about a second from dying if whoever was behind me was something with designs on eating my face. A second passed. Then two. I turned around to see several more wolves behind me. Normal-sized wolves - which was still plenty big, mind you - and a woman in their midst.

She was tall, tan and wore her nudity with a complete disregard for any of the people present. I guess I couldn't blame her, all things considered. I may have looked, for a second, before Murphy jabbed her elbow into my hip.

Another few moments passed in silence. Then the wolves began to change. It only took a few seconds, and then instead of a dozen deadly predators, I was confronted by a sight even more frightening. A dozen naked, awkward-looking college kids.

I averted my eyes while they began to get themselves dressed again and exchanged a look with Murphy.

"Looks like we found ourselves some werewolves."

She cast me a look I took to me 'No shit, dumbass' and turned to the woman in the midst of the group of kids.

"I'm Karrin Murphy, Chicago PD. Please stay where you are and don't make any sudden movements." She turned to me. "Are these our bad guys, Dresden?"

She still had a hand near her gun, though she'd holstered it.

"Nah," I said, feeling more confident than I probably should. "Pretty sure our bad guys just ran off."

"Shit," she muttered, but relaxed just a fraction. "What a mess."

"Sure is," I agreed cheerfully. "Who are you?"

I left the question open, but Billy picked it up immediately, as if he'd been waiting for it. He took a step forward and puffed up his chest.

"We're the Alphas."

I raised an eyebrow. "And you're the ones who fought the wolves before, over by the Varsity?"

"Damn right!" Billy exclaimed. "I'm Billy, and this is-"

"Be quiet." To say the words were snarled was less metaphorical than it usually would be. All of the Alphas edged back half a step, eyes widening, though that didn't stop Georgia from rolling her eyes at Billy and saying something that made the boy blush.

The tall woman, still distractingly naked, let her eyes drift over me and then Murphy, and I could see her calculating whether or not she'd be able to take us down in a fight.

"You are Harry Dresden," she said.

"Most days," I agreed.

"I am called Tara West."

Eerie amber eyes met mine for a moment, and I didn't look away. I wasn't sure what compelled me not to. It's usually a bad idea to lock eyes with people as a wizard, but with Tara West there was nothing.

Which meant that unlike the wolves we'd just fought off and the kids, she wasn't human.

"Pleasure," I said, inclining my head, and trying not to look too surprised by what I'd just learned. "Since we just saved your asses, I hope you don't mind answering a few questions from my side-kick."

Said side-kick glared at me.

"We could've taken them," Billy muttered.

"Shut up," Georgia hissed.

Tara watched me for a long moment. "Ask and be quick about it. We shouldn't linger here."

Murphy asked her questions quickly, repeating them with subtle differences, and eventually got a good enough grasp of what had gone down that she seemed satisfied to exchange contact information and let the kids go. We had bigger fish to fry.

***

"You did the right thing to bring me in on this," Murphy said half an hour later, as she parked her car next to The Beetle in Mac's parking lot.

I shrugged. "Figured you'd want to know what was going on."

"Last year you didn't."

I thought about it. I hadn't. I'd tried to keep Murphy away from any and all supernatural business that I could. Should I have kept her away from this, too?

"Well, that didn't end up going so well," I said. "As kinky as you handcuffing me was, I don't think I want a repeat of that one for a while."

Murphy raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to ignore that last part."

I smiled a little. For a moment, things felt things almost like they had before.

"I'll do some research and get you a list of all the kinds of werewolves. When will you need it?"

"As soon as you can."

I held back a yawn, but only barely. With the nightmares, the early start to the day, and the fading adrenaline rush, I was feeling about ready to collapse.

"I could get it to you by morning."

Murphy nodded. "I'll tell the desk sergeant to let you in."

"I'll bring you some proper coffee."

For a moment, Murphy almost smiled, but it quickly turned into a more somber expression. "I want to trust you again, Dresden. Don't fuck it up."

"Sure," I said. "Morning, then."

I got out of her car and coaxed The Beetle to life, thinking as I drove.

I'd meant to sit down and talk to Bob to compile my list, but as I thought about it, I found that the memories - probably from lessons with Ebenezar that I'd forgotten - came to me easily. The moment I got home, I got a notepad and wrote everything I knew about werewolves down, then copied that into a neater format for Murphy to read, and put it in a folder.

By the time midnight came around, I was done, and decided that I'd earned a few hours of shut-eye.

***

I got up bright and early to the tune of my Mickey Mouse alarm clock and hurried out to greet the day. I stopped by a bakery on the way to purchase a bribe or, alternatively, lunch, and arrived at the weathered old building that housed the Special Investigations department just a few minutes shy of 7:30.

"Hello Bill," I said, flipping open the box of donuts and settling it across the receptionist's desk. "I'm here to see Murphy."

Bill was an older man, probably a few years from retirement, and his moustache quirked as he grinned up at me.

"The wife's going to kill me if she finds out."

"I won't tell if you don't."

"Probably best I don't. She might kill you, too." He grinned and grabbed a jelly donut. "Go on up. Lieutenant Murphy said you'd come."

Bill's warm welcome turned out to be the only one. As I walked up the stairs, people avoided my gaze or met me with cold, calculating looks. Whatever Internal Investigations were up to, it seemed like I was getting dragged into it, too.

Well, it wasn't like I didn't have experience.

I was almost at the door leading to Special Investigations when I finally saw a familiar and friendly face.

Susan.

She smiled at me and walked over with an unaffected swagger, and I saw more than one cop's less than professional gaze track the sway of her hips.

"Harry. Fancy meeting you here."

Even standing two steps above me, she still had to get up on the tips of her toes to kiss my cheek. She lingered within an intimate distance afterwards and the smile faded away as she gave me a concerned look.

"Are you feeling alright?"

Her gaze locked on mine and I didn't look away. We'd both seen one another's soul's once upon a time. For a moment, I lost myself in those dark chocolate eyes. Then they began to darken, brown turning to black, black widening, spreading across her sclera until all that remained was the color of tar.

I winced, tried to cover it and turn it into a cough, and failed. "Better, but whatever it was that I dreamed of, it's stuck with me. It could be some kind of magic. Dreams are weird stuff, even for vanilla mortals."

"Are you sure? You look like that old army vet I interviewed last month. The one who ran into ghouls in Kuwait."

I knew better by now to confirm or deny the existence of ghouls. I didn't know where she'd even learned the term, but she already knew more than was good for her.

"I'll be fine." I raised a hand to forestall her protest and stepped in closer to her, speaking quietly. "And if I'm not, we'll just have to stay in. A bottle of wine. Some candles."

She raised an eyebrow. "Nurse outfit?"

"If you insist."

She laughed and it had a decidedly wicked edge to it. "I just might."

I cleared my throat and decided to change the subject. You weren't allowed concealed weapons in the precinct, after all. "What're you doing here, anyways?"

"The Lobo killings… and I heard Internal Investigations is putting the screw to Murphy. I figured I might snoop a bit and see if I could help."

That was what set Susan apart from a lot of journalists. Particularly at the Midwestern Arcane. She cared. It was getting her into all sorts of trouble, but hey, who was I to throw stones?

A shadow fell over us and I saw Agent Denton a few steps up, watching us.

"Mr Dresden," he said, his voice cool and crisp. Too cool and too crisp. The vein in his forehead bulged. "If I could have a minute of your time, I need a word."

I ignored his steely tone and smiled. "Agent Denton. I'm a little bit busy. This is Susan Rodriguez of the Midwestern Arcane. Susan, you were telling me about how you were investigating the Lobo killings?"

Denton's mouth formed a thin line. "Mr Dresden. We need to talk. Now."

I fished out a business card and handed it to him. "Call my office. I'll be in later. Unless you want to talk to Miss Rodriguez about the case. I think she'd like your input."

Denton glared at me and for a moment I thought he might pull out handcuffs and try to arrest me then and there. Then he stomped down the stairs and walked off.

I found Susan watching me. "Did you just use me as your attack dog?"

"I may have."

Susan kissed me softly on the lips, lingering a few moments, and it wasn't until she was walking past me that I realised she'd stolen a donut from the box.

"Call me."

I shook my head to myself as I walked the rest of the way up the stairs and into the office to Special Investigations. It was a cramped little place, with far too many cops and desks squeezed into the room, and they'd only made a few token efforts to separate things into cubicles.

"Dresden. What are you doing here?" Lieutenant Carmichael, Murphy's slobby, poorly dressed partner got up from one of the desks and made his way over to me. For all his apparent irritation, and dislike of me, he kept his voice low. "Haven't you caused enough trouble already?"

"I don't know. Have I?"

Carmichael gritted his teeth. "Internal Investigations are in Murphy's office grilling her right now. If they see you around here there'll be hell to pay. You need to be gone. Now."

That hurt. I'd never really been one of the team with the cops. Not really. But I'd been useful to them, and we'd managed to work well together. Most of the time, they treated me like the useful eccentric weirdo they thought I was, and I'd been fine with that.

Now I was a liability.

Normally, I would've probably reacted badly, but Carmichael wasn't even trying to be a dick about it. He was just looking out for Murphy. I held out the folder.

"This is for the Lobo killings. Can you give it to Murph when the suits are gone?"

For all his scepticism, Carmichael didn't hesitate to take the folder. "Damn it, Dresden. This better be worth the risk."

I shrugged. "See for yourself. Make sure Murphy sees it too. Tell her to call me when the coast is clear."

Carmichael muttered darkly to himself for a few seconds. "Yeah, yeah. I'll show her whatever bullshit you've come up with this time. Get gone."

I did just that.

Internal Investigations being on Murphy's ass wasn't good. It meant someone was pulling strings. It could have been John Marcone, the local mobster running most of the crime in Chicago. Or it might've been Bianca. Or any number of enemies Murphy had made just doing her job over the last few years. It was a long list and getting longer by the day.

It was something that would need dealing with eventually.

I was walking back to my car, musing about how best to deal with the situation, when a young man stepped up to me. My hand shot down to my coat and my blasting rod, and my fingers closed on the implement about at the same time as I recognised him.

He was a red-head with big ears in his late twenties. I frowned and let go of the blasting rod. "You were with the FBI."

He smiled. It was nervous and awkward and seemed kind of forced. "I'm Agent Harris. Uh - Roger." He held out his hand. I watched it for a moment and then sighed and shook it. I'd almost begun to feel bad for the kid.

"Harry Dresden. What does your boss want?"

That made him wince. He looked around, as if someone might be watching. "He doesn't like me doing this, but I've heard things about you. That you deal with… Weird stuff."

"Last week I helped two separate people see if their spouses were cheating and they both were. With the same man. Is that the kind of weird you're thinking about?"

Agent Harris' ears were beginning to go red. "No. They say you're a wizard. That you're the real deal. Phil doesn't believe any of that stuff, but I figure you might know people, so I thought I'd tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"There's a gang called the The Street Wolves. Down by…" He jotted down an address on a notepad, tore off the page, and handed it over. "It's called the Full moon garage."

Not particularly subtle.

My poker face had never been very good, and Agent Harris' expression brightened when he caught the look on my face.

"We can't just go wherever we please, but you're a civilian. If you happen by there and see something weird, and then call it in..."

I found myself nodding along. My first call might not be to the FBI, but Harris did have a point.

"I'll take a look."

"Thanks, Dresden." Harris handed me his card. "Call me on this number if you find something."

I took the card… and headed to the Full Moon Garage.

 

[Zeelthor]

A/n: Thanks for all the feedback thus far! The next chapter of this story will be the last of this current arc. It's still being written/plotted and I've been just a tad stuck. Hoping to finish it soon, though.

***

I lingered at the door of the Fool Moon garage for a while, trying to peer into the darkness. By the looks of things, it was abandoned, with corrugated steel walls sloughing off rust and detritus piling up everywhere.

"Hello. Anyone there?"

No reply. Well, shit. It was time to snoop.

I stepped inside, squinting into the dim interior. I caught a few vague shapes as my eyes adjusted. Cars, tables. Tools.

Broken glass brunched and a man out of the darkness. I took a look at his worn blue jeans, wiry frame, unkempt hair, and pulled out my best Austrian accent.

"I need your clothes, your boots and your motorcycle."

There was a moment of startled silence. I could feel a building of a cold, abrasive power from all around me, even as people began to appear in the light pouring in through the open door behind me.

The man reached for a shotgun. A young woman at the back hissed: "Take him!" And then everything devolved into chaos.

Free tip. If you're ever in a fight you're not a hundred percent sure you can win. Run. Run like crazy. It's been my usual motto and it's served me well.

When the crowd inside the Full Moon garage, a full dozen of them, charged me, I was intending to do just that. Then, without warning, that part of my brain shut down, and something happened.

The leader of the group, the aging man with the shotgun, began to raise it towards a firing position at his shoulder. I took two smooth steps forward and planted my boot into his chest. I'm not a heavily built guy, but I'm closer to seven feet than six, and the impact sent the man hurtling backwards into a crate. The shotgun discharged in a howl of thunder and a bloom of light as it was torn out of his hand and skidded off into the darkness.

Two more people came at me, one from each direction. One the young woman who'd shouted, the other a huge, blunt-faced man.

"Forzare!" A wave of kinetic force swept out of my outstretched hand and caught the woman, and three more of her friends who were coming up behind her, sending them all tumbling ass over teakettle into the darkness.

I took a step forward, got inside of the wild haymaker that the big guy swung at me and with my fist gauntleted kinetic force I smashed it straight into his nose. Bone crunched and blood spurted.

I moved past the man even as he howled in pain, grabbing one arm as I went and swinging him out into another two of his friends. On instinct I called up a shield, and a bottle crashed into it a second later.

I kept the shield up and looked around. "I just want to talk."

All around me, people were groaning and swearing.

The man from before came out of the shadows, his shotgun reclaimed, but pointed to the floor. He gave me a nod of what I guessed might have been respect.

"Parker," he said. "I'm listening. Are you here on Marcone's business?"

I nodded back. "Dresden and fuck no. I had a few questions about the werewolf attacks that have been going on recently, but I'm pretty sure you aren't werewolves. You're lycantrophes."

"Come on, Parker." The young woman from before had come crawling out of the wreckage of the crates. "Don't be a pussy. What can take-"

Parker didn't even look at her before turning and smashing the butt-end of the shotgun into her head. The young woman snarled in rage and I could feel power in the air once more.

"Sit down," he hissed.

They stared at each other for a long moment, and then the woman moved back into the shadows once more.

"You're right," Parker said, and I could feel his rage in each word. A vast ocean of it, leashed down under an iron will. "We don't know shit about any murders."

Something told me that this man knew a lot about murder, but not the ones I was looking for. I could tip Murphy off about him later. We had bigger fish to fry.

"Good," I said, and turned my back to them. "Keep it that way."

I walked out of the Full Moon garage and it wasn't until I sat behind the wheel of my car that it hit me.

What the fuck had just happened?

I'd taken some self-defense training with Murphy, and my old mentor Ebenezar had taught me the down and dirty basics of brawling in between lessons in rapiers and quarterstaves, but I'd never been much of a fighter.

I should've gotten my ass handed to me in there, but I'd won without a scratch on me. I drove and found myself at my office without having come up with an answer when an even more important realisation struck me.

The FBI had most likely just tried to get me killed.

I needed to figure this out - and fast. First, I'd need to call Murphy. With that in mind, I stepped into my office, and found Gentleman Johnny Marcone sitting behind my desk, in my chair. Hendricks stood leaned up against one wall as unobtrusively as a 6'9, 280 pound gorilla man could.

I paused for a moment in the door. It was enough time for Marcone to start talking.

"Mr Dresden," he said. "I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time."

"Get out."

The genial and insincere smile slipped off and left his face blank. I was pretty sure that meant he was pissed off. Good.

"I think you'll want to hear what I have to tell you, Mr Dresden."

I opened my mouth to tell him to go fuck himself, and closed it again. I despised Marcone. I despised everything he was and stood for, but things were crazy and going crazier, and if he could help, that personal dislike wasn't relevant.

"Talk."

The smile came back, just a touch more genuine, and Marcone steepled his fingers. "I believe we have a common problem."

"Well, duh. Is that the gem of information you had for me?"

I'd like to say that I'm not usually this immature. But it pissed off Marcone, so…

"Not quite," Marcone said. "I know who the killer you're looking for is."

I raised an eyebrow. "And I take it you won't be telling me out of the kindness of your heart?"

"Nothing in this world is free, Mr Dresden."

I pulled out one of the chairs I usually reserved for my clients and sat down. I slouched and yawned. "Obviously… But the way I see it, you need me to have that information more than I need to get it from you. I have other sources, but I don't think you have anyone who could deal with something like a Loupgarou."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Even assuming you are correct, the creature may very well kill countless civilians before it takes me. I am comfortable betting that you would not allow such a thing to happen."

I winced. He was right about that. "My faerie godmother already has my future bought and paid for, so don't expect me to sign that off to you."

Marcone considered me for a moment, presumably to figure out if I was joking. I wasn't.

"Mr Hendricks. If you please?"

Hendricks pulled out a folder from his jacket and threw it in my lap. I opened it without taking my eyes off either of them, and inside I found a contract. It was pretty standard legal fare. Simple and straightforward. No secret soul-stealing clauses.

"A consultant?" I asked him.

"Yes. I wish to formalise our relationship."

I waggled my eyebrows at him. "I'd prefer it if you sent Hendricks away for that, but hey, if you want to be kinky I'm down with that."

Marcone didn't seem amused. "Mr Dresden. If you'd indulge me for a moment, this will be over faster, as I am sure you'd prefer."

I had another comeback for that, and it was very witty, but he wasn't wrong. The sooner I got rid of him, the better. "Fine. Give me the sales pitch."

"You may fill in your desired salary. Within reason. The hours are negotiable. You will not be asked to break any laws."

I had a pen in my pocket. I could do it. Marcone had one hell of a lot of money and I felt pretty sure I could name an outrageous price without making him flinch. It was tempting. I could get a nice apartment. A nicer car. Decent food. I could travel, research, do anything I wanted. So long as I served at Marcone's beck and call.

"Why?"

Marcone frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"Why do you want to hire me?"

"I have many experts on many matters on retainer, Mr Dresden. Doctors, lawyers, stockbrokers. You'd serve in a similar capacity."

"Let's cut the bull. You could find other experts on magic. You've got enough money. Hell, I'm sure one or two have already contacted you, offering their services."

That brought the first real smile I'd seen from Johnny Marcone that day. He cast a look at Hendricks, and I got ready to fight in case that had been a sign for Hendricks to rip his way out of his suit to hulk out. Instead, Hendricks simply nodded.

"My business is more and more frequently running into competitors from your side of the street, Mr Dresden. These competitors do not run their business after the same model as I do."

"You're talking about Madame Bianca."

Marcone considered his next words carefully. I was pretty sure they would be a version of "I do not recall".

"There are a great many predatory beings in this city, Mr Dresden. The human kind I know how to deal with. For the rest, if it becomes necessary, your advice might prove useful."

"Necessary evil is still evil, John."

"And no less necessary." He didn't miss a beat. He'd probably had this very argument before. Maybe with himself.

I thought about it. I'd never really let myself do that before. Probably for all sorts of good reasons.

"I'm not going to work for you," I said, finally. "But I can work with you. There's plenty of things to deal with in this city, so let's start with the Loupgarou."

"Loupgarou?" Marcone asked.

"Cursed bloodline, turns into a demon wolf three times a month, carnage ensues."

"That would seem to be what we are dealing with. How do we kill it?"

"That's the pickle. Enough violence should do the trick, but I don't have a tank and I'm pretty sure you don't, either. Inherited silver's our best bet. We've got another problem, though. Five hexenwolves came gunning for me yesterday, and the FBI just sent me to get killed by a bunch of lycanthropes. There's more to this whole mess."

"Then by all means, Mr Dresden. Start at the beginning."

***

"This is one hell of a mess, Dresden," Murphy groused as I laid out the facts to her some forty-five minutes later at Macanally's pub.

That it was. I pushed a bottle of Mac's ale over to her and she sipped it. It watered down her scowl a bit.

"Four kinds of werewolves. Jesus Christ. What a mess."

I sipped my own beer. It had cost me the last of my money, but right now, it felt like money well spent.

"Yep. One of them got cursed by a catholic saint, if you can believe that."

Murphy rubbed at her face. "Of course he was."

I pushed the files Marcone had shown me over. "This is the one we need to worry about. The Loupgarou. Harley McFinn."

Murphy skimmed the file, looked up at me, then gave it a second look. "How did you get this?"

I shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"It does in a court of law. You don't just snoop around a guy like Harley McFinn, Dresden. His lawyers would eat you alive." Her frown deepened and it scrunched up her cute button nose. "Dresden. Tell me where you got this."

I considered lying. Then I considered how that had gone the last time. "Marcone."

A fire lit up behind her blue eyes. "Marcone."

"He's the guy McFinn is after. Some business conflict."

"You worked with Marcone." Murphy's words were low and deadly cold. Her entire body had settled into the spring coil tension of the moment just before she'd lash out with precise violence.

"Talked to him, Murph. There's one hell of a difference. Marcone came to me and wanted to make a deal. I don't like it any more than you do, but right now, there's a monster on the loose. So yeah, I took his information. I figured we'd prioritise the people getting killed over a pissing contest with Marcone."

Murphy's jaw was clenched so tight I was just waiting for something to pop. She reached out for her bottle, grabbing it with trembling fingers, and took a long sip. "So… What did Marcone tell you?"

"What I'm telling you," I said. "There's a lot of scum in this city and in the world. You have no idea of the kind of things going on out there."

"I have some idea."

"Yeah, some. Murphy, you know that the vampires are bad, but you don't know how bad. They've got entire countries enslaved. Bianca is nowhere near as bad as it gets, and she's just the beginning."

She stared at me for several long moments. "I didn't know that. Because you've never told me."

I blinked at her. I never had told her about the Red Court beyond the few details I'd felt she absolutely had to know in case of a run-in with Chicago's madame and resident bloodsucker. Now I had.

"You might not like Marcone, but he's hell of a lot better than some of the things that lurk out there. We might need to work with him on this."

"You sound like him," Murphy said, scornful.

"I am nothing like him," I snapped.

The old lights around the restaurant began to flicker and dim. The table trembled, sloshing some of our drinks onto the wood, and the fans above wheezed in protest. I blinked, shook myself, and grounded the power I'd drawn in.

Murphy's hand had slipped off the table, down towards her gun on pure reflex.

"Everything alright?"

I had no idea how Mac had shown up next to the table. One moment, I could've sworn he'd been behind the bar, and the next, he stood right next to me. What the hell had just happened?I hadn't expected the rage that sprung up. It had just...appeared.

Murphy drew several long, deep breaths, looking first from Mac and then to me. "It's alright," she said.

Mac eyed me. A warning. Then he returned to his spot behind the bar.

"Sorry," I said. "I overreacted."

Murphy nodded. "I was out of line."

A long, awkward moment stretched on, and I tried to think of what had just happened. The insight struck me suddenly and without warning, and suddenly I knew why I hated Marcone.

If it had been me, presented with the same choices he had, I wasn't at all sure I would've done it any differently.

"We can talk about this later," Murphy said. "Marcone is innocent until proven guilty. He pays taxes - except when he doesn't - and he deserves my protection the same as any citizen of Chicago."

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you telling me or yourself?"

Murphy ignored me. "But we can't arrest him."

I shook my head. "Hell's bells, no. The moment the moon came out, he'd turn, and he'd tear every single person in the police station into coleslaw. We need to contain him until the full moon is out, and we'll need a greater circle for that."

"I can't just arrest him. Not even for 24 hours. Not with Internal Investigations looking over my shoulder. Not unless we have something on him."

"So we go after the man, not the werewolf."

Murphy glanced at her watch. "It's 01:22. The sun goes down at 6:30. Will he turn right away?"

"He could. We should assume so."

Murphy looked at me. She'd grown awfully pale. "We have less than five hours to find evidence, get a warrant, arrest him and do your magic crap."

"We'll need to find him first. Maybe he'll come quietly. If you go for something to let us detain him, I can try to find him. If it comes to that, I'll just have to deal with him."

My belief in that statement probably showed, because Murphy made a face. "Shit."

I nodded. "Is this a bad time to mention that the FBI tried to kill me earlier?"

***

Murphy headed back to work, and so did I. Over the course of the next couple of hours, I contacted just about every single spirit and mostly benign being from the Nevernever that I knew of, or had heard of, in hopes of finding anything. I got a few things. Restaurants he liked to frequent, the golf club he usually played at, but neither of them were the sort of place you'd hang out if you were about to transform into a giant werewolf.

I mean, how were you supposed to hold your putter with claws? And what would you do after you'd eaten your caddie?

It was all a bust. With the afternoon light beginning to fade, I looked towards my summoning circle, and then towards the little notebook I kept with Names of beings that were far, far less benign. With their help, I could find McFinn right away, but the price would be steep.

I fished in my pocket for some chalk in a nervous gesture, and found a note instead. A drawing of a heavy-duty protection circle, with a single strand of hair tucked between the folded paper.

My stomach fell and my blood turned to ice as I realised just why my apprentice had decided she needed to learn to lock up something incredibly powerful.

The image of her decapitated head flashed before my eyes and I staggered, catching hold of the table just to stay upright.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I pulled together a tracking spell, watching my amulet slowly start to bob off in the direction I'd suspected all along.

Then I rushed up the lab, grabbed my staff and blasting rod on my way out the door, and tore out of the driveway in a scattering of gravel and the best speed the trusty Blue Beetle could manage, headed to the gold coast and the residence of McFinn the Loupgarou.

It was not a great time to be driving through the streets of Chicago, and if I'd thought I'd make better time running, I would've gotten out of the car. I ended up honking the horn until it gave out, and then resorted to shouting expletives out the window at my fellow drivers as the sun set over the horizon.

I ran up the stairs and came to a halt outside the door to McFinn's apartment. I took a moment to feel for a threshold. There was one, but it was weak. This place wasn't a home to much of a greater extent than a hotel room was. That was damn fortunate, because I didn't particularly fancy kicking the door down. Without the strength boost given to me by… My mind went fuzzy for a second.

Right. Doors. Kicking them down ain't easy. Especially not the sturdy, reinforced kind of door that McFinn had decided to install, so it was damn fortunate that the threshold sucked. I could bring most of my magic to bear, here.

I took a few steps back, just in case, and pointed my staff at the door.

"Forzare!"

My spell hit the door and it didn't blast inwards so much as it shattered into kindling, causing an unholy racket and leaving debris all across the hallway beyond. The guy was rich. He was probably insured.

I hurried inside. The cautious approach was generally best, but the sun might have set already, and I didn't dare to waste a moment. So I stomped down hallways, following my tracking spell, and I couldn't have cut it closer.

The place was horribly familiar, especially considering I'd never been there before, and I found myself frozen in place just outside of the room. The vision before me flickered back and forth between two different things, like a mirage. One was cold and barren, with a naked woman's body in one spot, her head in another, a broken greater circle at the room's center, and blood everywhere. The other had Kim Delaney, still alive, sitting in front of a circle of silver, with a second circle of lit candles around it, eyes open wide in horror.

The loupgarou was inside. Maybe half a ton of fur and muscle and blood-red eyes, it pushed against the circle, and the circle budged.

"Kim!" I snarled. "Get back here. Right the fuck now."

She flinched, snapped her eyes around to me, and then back at the wolf. It slammed itself against the circle once more, and I could see the magic begin to fray and break at the weak points of the spell.

"Harry?" There was a vague, vacant quality to her voice. Shock, or maybe she'd gotten entangled in the spell. In the end, it didn't matter.

I ran in and grabbed her, hauling her up to her feet and bodily dragging her out of the room. A moment later, the circle broke and the Loupgarou howled in horrible, wrathful bloodlust.

"Run!"

I drew in power and shaped it into the form of a shield that blocked the door. I had time enough to spend several seconds focusing and preparing, and even so, the Loupgarou nearly shattered my defenses when it slammed into the barrier.

It was resistant to magic and brought some of its own to the fight, along with the frankly ridiculous strength already there.

"Run!" I shouted again, and this time Kim seemed to hear me, and began to stumble towards the door.

I poured more power into my defense and I knew, somehow, that this time I'd be able to keep the bastard firmly in place. Unfortunately for me, the bastard didn't try to go through my shield. It went straight through the wall instead. Drywall and plaster showered the room as the beast burst through. Such was its momentum that it slipped along the hardwood floors and into the wall beyond, leaving a massive dent in it.

This was bad for two reasons.

One. It was now out in the open with me.

Two. It stood between me and Kim.

The Loupgarou must've realised that too, because it turned its back on me and set off down the corridor after my apprentice.

"Oh no you don't," I snarled. "Forzare."

I'd called on a lot of power, but the result was just plain ridiculous. A wrecking ball of kinetic force smashed into the Loupgarou just as it gathered itself into a leap that'd take it onto Kim's vulnerable back. The creature crashed into the exterior wall and through it, vanishing out into the night. It crunched into something solid and a moment later, a car alarm started.

Woops. Hopefully, whoever had parked outside was also insured. At least it hadn't been the Blue Beetle. Even if car alarms had been around back when it was made - which they weren't - it wasn't as though anyone would want to steal it, anyways.

I caught up to Kim and we made our way out of the apartment and down the stairs. I could hear a crash from where we'd come as the Loupgarou jumped back up, and by the sounds of things, made another hole in the wall as it did.

No time to waste. I led the way by virtue of knowing where we were going and having longer legs, and we piled into the Beetle with hell of a lot of motivation and very little grace. As I fumbled for the key, the Loupgarou smashed its way through the door leading to the apartment's stairways, and leapt out onto the street.

Nothing to it. I turned the key and put the pedal to the metal. That probably makes the acceleration that followed sound more impressive than it actually was. The Beetle wheezed and groaned, tyres screeching as I did a u-turn and hustled out of there as fast as its tiny engine could manage.

"What were you thinking?" I snapped at Kim.

We took a corner at daring speed and the tyres squealed in protest along the asphalt.

"I just… I just wanted to help," Kim stammered.

A glance in the rearview mirror showed me scarlet eyes and a dark, furry shape in hot pursuit. It gave a new meaning to "here comes the fuzz."

"We're not discussing whether or not this was nice of you, Kim," I said, accelerating to beat the red light, and gaining some distance on our pursuer. "We're discussing whether or not it was smart, which it wasn't. It was very much not smart, in point of fact."

"I almost had it," she muttered, as much to herself as to me.

"Well, yeah. There is that. It wasn't a half-bad job for a newbie, but that's why you don't try this kinda stuff without talking to me first. Anything other than perfect gets you killed."

"I did talk to you."

"And what did I say?"

"Don't."

"And why, do you think?"

She didn't answer. I realised, apropo of nothing, that I was treating her differently than I used to. I was treating her like she was a kid - which might have been true in wizarding terms - but in reality she was a grown-ass woman a year or two younger than me. It was one thing with-

I shook my head and looked around, getting my bearings. Nothing that hadn't been prepared ahead of time would stand up to the Loupgarou. I took a right and set course back for the apartment.

The damn Loupgarou kept pace with us and I let it. It was following us with a berserk, tunnel-visioned determination and I preferred that to the rampage it might inflict upon any random passer-by if it realised just how many of them there were around.

I drove full-tilt all the way into the parking lot, skidding to a halt and one hell of an illegal parking, and helping Kim over the gear-shift and along with me out of the driver's seat door. The Loupgarou wasn't far behind. I whipped another working of kinetic force against it, but this time it was ready, bracing itself and weathering the blow without giving more than a few inches of ground. Kim was behind me, muttering something that sounded like absolute nonsense under her breath, and I took one step down towards the door.

I hit the wolf again before it had time to recover, and again, and again. The blows drove it back another few inches, but it quickly regained the ground and then some. It pressed forward, stubbornly, and the dozen or so yards to my door seemed an infinite distance away.

Then the Loupgarou's progress suddenly came to a halt. The ground underneath its feet had turned into quicksand, and I watched as the creature flailed and pushed, and managed to get itself stuck even worse. I chanced a glance over my shoulder to see Kim with her eyes locked on the creature, hands outstretched, lips moving in a low, unintelligible mantra.

It was as good a moment as we'd get and I took it. I tucked tail and ran for it.

I could hear the creature howl in impotent rage, flailing and straining, and finally getting unstuck with a loud squelching sound. I fumbled out my amulet, got the wards undone and tore open the door. I caught a flash of red in my peripheral vision and only barely got my shield up in time as the Loupgarou rushed into the stairwell. It slammed me backwards into the door, and I managed to catch the handle as I fell backwards, dragging it most of the way shut.

The Loupgarou threw itself against the steel security door and if it had just been contending with metal, it would probably have won. But it wasn't. It was contending with my threshold and my wards. Even then, the door rattled in its frame, and the metal made a squeal of protest.

"Bob," I snarled. "Raise the emergency wards!"

Bob's voice trailed up from down in my lab. "Are you sure, boss? You'll be stuck here until-"

Another crash. Dust trickled down from the ceiling and Mister hissed in displeasure from atop his bookshelf at whatever rude creature was about to threaten his domain.

"I know," I shouted. "Do it."

I could feel the power buzzing through the air as the wards powered up. A moment later, the Loupgarou tried the door again and got hit with enough electricity to kill an elephant. The werewolf yelped and the night went silent.

We were in the clear. For now.

I turned to Kim Delaney.

"Right," I said. "I realise I've kept things from you and I'll try not to do that in the future."

She blinked at me. "Oh. Thanks."

"No problem. We've got a lot of material to cover, but before we do, I've just got one question. Why are you naked?"