Home > Proven Guilty (The Dresden Files #8)(63)

Proven Guilty (The Dresden Files #8)(63)
Author: Jim Butcher

Hell, if I was in the Red Court, I'd be giving the things away like Halloween candy. It was a scary notion, and for more than one reason.

I was in trouble up to my eyebrows, but my nausea was severe enough that it took me several minutes of effort to care. Come on, Harry. You aren't fighting your way clear of this. Use your head.

For starters, I was still alive, and that told me something all by itself. If Crane had wanted to kill me, he'd had all the time he would need to do it. He wouldn't even have had to worry about the death curse a wizard could lay down on his enemies on his way into the hereafter. Unconscious wizards can't throw curses. I was still breathing, which meant...

I swallowed. Which meant that he had other plans for me. It did not seem like a promising way to begin thinking my way clear.

I tried to say Rawlins' name, but my tongue was being held in place by something, and it sounded like, "Lah-tha?"

"Here," Rawlins replied, his tone very quiet. "How you doing?"

"La tha yahnah."

"They got me cuffed to a wall," he said. "My own damned cuffs, too, and they took my keys. I can't get to you, man. Sorry."

"Ooahahyee?"

"Where? Where are we?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yah."

"Looks like an old auto workshop," he replied. "Abandoned. Metal walls. Windows are painted over. Doors chained shut. Lots and lots of cobwebs."

"Ooah lah kuh phruh?"

"The light? Big old shop lamp."

"Ah eeoh heh?"

"Anyone here?" Rawlins asked.

"Yah."

"Creepy little guy with fish lips. He won't talk to me, even when I asked pretty please. He's sitting in a chair about three feet from you pretending he's a guard dog."

Anger returned to me in full force, and made my head pound even harder. Glau. Glau'd been driving the van. Glau had killed my dog. Without consciously making the effort, I found myself reaching for my magic, for fire enough to cremate the little toad. The manacles became a frozen agony that wiped anything resembling thought from my head.

I bit down on the mouthpiece and forced myself to relax my will. I could not afford to allow my impulses to control me, or I'd never get out of this. There would come a time when I wouldn't have to bite back on my emotions-but that time was not yet here.

Wait, I promised my anger. Wait. I need to think for now, to get clear of my captors.

And as soon as I did, Glau was going to have a real bad day.

I relaxed my will and the pain of the manacles faded. Patience, Harry. Patience.

A door creaked open and footsteps approached. A moment later, Crane's voice murmured, "Awake, I see, Dresden. Your head must be as hard as everyone says. Mr. Glau, if you would be so kind?"

Someone fumbled at the hood over my face, and it withdrew along with the mouthpiece, and I could see that hood and gag were all of a piece. Charming. The mouthpiece had gripped my tongue with two little clamps. I spat the taste of metal out of my mouth, along with a little bit of blood. The hood and muzzle had torn my gums open in a couple of places.

I lay on my back, staring up at a corrugated metal ceiling, then looked around at a dim, ugly, forlorn-looking auto shop. The nagging sense of familiarity increased. The only doors leading out were chained shut and padlocked on the inside, and no keys were in sight.

Crane stood over me, looking down, smiling, as tall and dark and handsome as you please. My eyes went past him to Rawlins. The dark-skinned cop stood leaning against the wall, one wrist cuffed to a metal ring in a steel support beam. A bruise severe enough to show even on his dark skin covered one cheek entirely. Rawlins looked calm, remote, and unafraid. I was fairly sure it was only an act, but if so, it was a good one.

"Crane," I said. "What do you want?"

He smiled a nasty smile. "To build the future," he replied. "Networking is very important in my business."

"Cut the crap and talk," I said in a flat tone.

The smile vanished. "You would be wise not to anger me, wizard. You're hardly in a position to make demands."

"If you were going to kill me, you'd have done it already."

Crane let out a rueful laugh. "I suppose that's true enough. I was going to finish you and drop you in the lake, but imagine my surprise when I made some calls and it turns out that you're..."

"Infamous?" I suggested. "Tough? A good dancer?"

Crane showed me his teeth. "Marketable. For an insignificant young man, you've managed to irritate a great many people."

A little chill went through me. I kept it off my face.

Crane's eyes glittered anyway. "Ah. Yes. Fear." He inhaled deeply, his smile turning smug. "You're smart enough to know when you are powerless, at least. In my experience, most wizards are fairly cowardly, when push comes to shove."

I felt a hot reply coming, but again I set my anger aside-temporarily.

Crane was trying to push my buttons. He could only get away with it if I allowed him to do so. I met his dark eyes and let one corner of my mouth tilt up into a smile.

"In my experience," I replied, gaze unwavering, "people who have underestimated me regretted it."

I didn't feel like being drawn into a soulgaze with Crane, but I had little to lose. If nothing else, it might provide me with some valuable insight to his character.

Crane's nerve broke first. He turned to walk away from me, pretending that he'd just received a call on his cell phone-he already had a new one. He stood in the shadows on the other side of the room.

I spat more metal taste out of my mouth and wished I had a glass of water. Glau sat in a chair nearby, watching me. The little man had a gun resting in his lap, in hand and ready to go. A briefcase sat on the floor beside his chair.

"You," I said.

Glau looked at me without any readable expression.

"You killed my dog," I said. "Get your affairs in order."

Something ugly flickered through his eyes. "An idle threat. You will not live to see the dawn."

"You'd best hope I do," I said. "Because if I go down, I know where my death curse is going."

Glau's lips peeled back from his teeth, and I swear to God that they were pointed-not like a vampire's fangs or a ghoul's canines, but in solid, serrated triangles, like a shark. He rose, the gun twitching in his hand.

"Glau!" snapped Crane.

Glau froze for a second, and then relaxed and let the gun fall to his side.

Crane shoved the cell phone into his pocket and stalked over to me. "Keep your tongue in your mouth, wizard."

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