Page 58 of Blood Rites (The Dresden Files 6)

Raith didn't turn. "What have you done to my child?"

"Did something happen to your child?" I asked. I probably said that in as insulting a fashion as I possibly could. "I hope everything is all right. But how will we know? You should just get on with the cursing, I guess."

Raith turned to Madge and said, "Continue. I'll be back in a moment." Then to the bodyguard he said, "Keep your gun aimed at Dresden. Shoot him if he tries to escape." The bodyguard drew her weapon. Raith turned and darted from the room, faster than humanly possible.

Madge continued her twisty chant.

"Heya, Thomas," I said.

"Mmmph," he said through the gag.

"I'm gonna get you out of here."

Thomas lifted his head from the ground and blinked at me.

"Don't space out on me, man. Stay with us here."

He stared at me for a second more and then groaned and dropped his head back onto the ground. I wasn't sure if that was an affirmative or not.

"Murph?" I called.

She looked up at me, then down again.

"Murph, don't fall apart on me. He's the bad guy and he's way sexy while he does it. That's his bag. He's supposed to be able to get to you."

"I couldn't stop him," she said in a numb voice.

"That's okay."

"I couldn't stop myself either." She met my eyes for a second and then slumped to the floor. "Leave me alone, Mister Dresden."

"Right," I muttered. I focused on the bodyguard. "Hey there. Look, uh. I don't know your name..."

She just stared at me down the length of her gun.

"Yeah, okay, that's hostile," I said. "But look, you're a person. You're human. I'm human. We should be working together here against the vampires, right?"

Nothing. I get more conversation from Mister.

"Hey!" I shouted. "You! You demented U.S. Army surplus blow-up doll! I'm talking to you. So say something!"

She didn't, but her eyes glittered with annoyance, the first emotion I'd seen there. What can I say, inspiring anger is my gift. I have a responsibility to use it wisely.

"Excuse me!" I shouted as loudly as I could. "Did you hear me, bitch? At this rate I'm gonna have to blow you up too, just like I did the Bodyguard Kens and your twin."

Now real fury filled her eyes. She cocked her gun and opened her mouth as if she were going to actually speak to me, but I never got to hear what she was going to say.

Murphy made a soundless, barefooted run, leapt, and drove a flying side kick into the back of Bodyguard Barbie's neck. Whiplash was far too mild a word to describe what happened to the woman's head. Whiplash happens in friendly, healthy things like automobile accidents. Murphy meant the kick to be lethal, and that made it worse than just about any car wreck.

There was a crackling sound and Barbie dropped to the floor. The gun never went off.

Murphy knelt and searched the woman, taking her gun, a couple of extra clips, a knife, and a set of keys. She stood up and started trying keys on my manacles.

I looked up and watched Madge as she did. The sorceress remained on her knees in the circle, her chant flowing smoothly from her mouth in an unbroken stream. The ritual required it. Had she broken her chant, shouted a warning to the bodyguard, or moved outside the circle it would have disrupted the ritual-and that kind of thing can draw some awfully lethal feedback for showing disrespect to whatever power is behind the ritual. She was at least as trapped as I was.

"Took you long enough," I said to Murphy. "I was going to run out of actual sentences and just start screaming incoherently."

"That's what happens when your vocabulary count is lower than your bowling average."

"Me not like woman with smart mouth," I said. "Woman shut smart mouth and get me free or no wild monkey love for you." She found the right key and got the shackles off me. My wrists and ankles ached. "You had me scared," I said. "Until you called me Mister Dresden, I almost believed he'd gotten to you."

Murphy bit her lip. "Between you and me, I'm not sure he didn't." She shivered. "I wasn't doing much acting, Harry. You made a good call. He underestimated me. But it was too close. Let's leave."

"Steady. Just a little longer."

Murphy frowned, but she didn't run. "You want me to keep Madge covered? What if she does that magic-superglop thing on our faces too?"

I shook my head. "She can't. Not until the ritual is complete."

"Why not?"

"Because if she makes a mistake in the ritual there's going to be some backlash. Maybe it wouldn't touch us, or maybe it would-but it sure as hell would kill everyone in the circle."

"Thomas," Murphy breathed.

"Yeah."

"Can we mess up the rite?"

"Could. But to quote Kincaid, thus kablowie, thus death. If we interrupt the ritual or if she screws it up, things go south."

"But if we don't stop her, she kills Thomas."

"Well. Yeah."

"Then what do we do?" Murphy asked.

"We jump Raith," I said, and nodded back to the wall where she had crouched. "Get back to where he threw you. When he comes in again, we take him down and trade him for Thomas."

"Won't breaking the circle screw up the ritual?" Murphy asked.

"Not the outer circle," I said. "The circle is mostly there to help her have the juice for the ritual. Madge's got some talent. And a survival instinct. She can hold it together if we break it."

Murphy's eyes widened. "But breaking the triangle. That will screw up the ritual."

I regarded Madge steadily and said, loud enough to be sure she heard, "Yep. And kill her. But we aren't going to break the triangle yet."

"Why not?" Murphy demanded.

"Because we're going to offer Madge a chance to survive the evening. By letting her kill Raith in Thomas's place and let the curse go to waste. So long as someone dies on schedule, whatever is behind the ritual shouldn't mind." I walked over to stand directly outside the circle. "Otherwise, all I have to do is kick one of these candles over or smudge the lines of the triangle then back up to watch her die. And I think Madge is a survivor. She walks, Thomas is fine, and Raith isn't giving anyone any more trouble."

"She'll run," Murphy said.

"Let her. She can run from the Wardens, but she can't hide. The White Council is going to have some things to say to her about killing people with magic. Pointed things. Cutting things."

"Taunting the spellslinger must be a really fun game, since people like you and Raith keep playing it," Murphy said, "But don't you think he's going to notice that you aren't being held with a gun on you anymore?"

I looked down at the bodyguard's body and grimaced. "Yeah. The corpse is gonna be a giveaway, isn't it."

We looked at each other and then both bent down and grabbed an arm. We dragged the remains of the final Bodyguard Barbie over to the edge of the yawning chasm and dropped her in. After that I reached for my sword cane, still clipped to my belt, and loosened the blade in its sheath.

"Can't believe Raith let you keep that," Murphy said.

"The guard didn't seem to be very good at employing her initiative, and he didn't specifically mention my losing the cane. Don't think he noticed it. He was pretty busy gloating, and I was chained up and all."

"He's like a movie villain," Murphy said.

"No. Hollywood wouldn't allow that much clich§?" I shook my head. "And I don't think he's thinking very clearly right now. He's pretty worked up about beating my mom's death curse."

"How tough is this guy?" Murphy asked.

"Very tough. Ebenezar says my magic can't touch him."

"How's about I shoot him?"

"Can't hurt," I said. "You might get lucky and solve our problem. But only a really critical shot will drop him, and even then it's iffy whether or not you'll get him. White Court vamps don't soak up gunshots as well as Red Court vampires do, or ignore them like the Black Court, but they can get over them in a hurry."

"How?"

"They have a kind of reserve of stolen life-energy. They tap into it to be stronger or faster, to recover from injuries, forcibly manipulate the sensations of police lieutenants, that kind of thing. They don't run around being as tough as the Black Court all the time, but they can rev the engine when they need to do it. It's probably safe to assume that Lord Raith has a great big honking tank of reserve energy."

"We'd have to run him out of gas in order to get to him long-term."

"Yep."

"Can we do that?"

"Don't think so," I said. "But we can force him to push himself pretty hard."

"So we almost beat him. That's the plan?"

"Yeah."

"That's not a very good plan, Harry," Murphy said.

"It's a wascally-wabbit plan," I said.

"Actually, it qualifies as a crazy plan."

"Crazy like a fox," I said. I put my hands on her shoulders. "There's no time to argue, Murph. Trust me?"

She flipped her hands up in a helpless little gesture (slightly mitigated by the fact that she had a gun in one and a knife in the other) and turned to stalk back to the cushions where Raith had initially thrown her. "We're going to die."

I grinned and stepped back to the ring where Raith had me chained up. I stood there in the same pose as when I'd been prisoner, and held the shackles behind my back as if they might still be attached.

I had barely settled into position when there was the sound of one, two, three gazelle-like bounds on the sloped tunnel floor, and Raith shot into the cavern, scowling. "What idiocy!" he snarled toward Madge. "That stupid buck from Arturo's studio nearly slaughtered my daughter by sheer incompetence. The medical teams are taking them now."

He stopped talking abruptly. "Guard?" he snapped. "Madge, where did she go?"

Madge widened her eyes, still continuing the twisting, slippery words of the chant, and gave Murphy a significant look.

Raith turned, back stiffening in apprehension, to face Murphy.

Madge should have warned Raith about me. If he'd blown off old Ebenezar's lethal magic, he had defenses out the wazoo. I didn't even try to blast away at him with power.

Instead I swung the shackles once over my head and brought the flying steel down on Raith's right ear with every ounce of strength in my body. The steel cuffs bit into his flesh with vicious strength and laid him out on the floor. He let out a snarl of shock and surprise. He turned to glare at me, his eyes burning a bright, metallic silver, his torn ear already knitting itself whole again.

I dropped the chains, drew my sword cane, and drove the blade straight at Raith's left eye. The White lord moved his hand in a blur of motion, batting the scalpel-slender blade aside. I drew a sharp cut across his hand, but it didn't keep him from kicking my ankles out from underneath me with a sweep of his leg. He rose almost before I was through falling, and picked up the bloodied shackles, his features set in wrath. I went flat and covered my neck with my hands.

Murphy shot Raith in the back. The first bullet came out the left side of his chest, and must have left a hole in his lung. The second exploded out from between two ribs on the other side of his body.

It had taken less than a second for the two shots to hit, but Raith reversed direction, flashing to one side like a darting bat, and two more shots seemed to miss him. The motion was odd to watch, and vaguely disturbing. Raith almost flowed across the room, looking as if he were being lazy, but moving with unnerving speed. He vanished behind an elaborate Oriental-style screen.

And the cave's lights went out.

The only source of light left in the cavern came from the three black candles at the points of the ritual's triangle, way the hell at the back of the chamber. Madge's voice continued its rippling, liquid chant, an edge of smug contempt somehow conveyed in it, her attention focused on the ritual. Thomas's bruised body twitched as he looked around, eyes wide behind the gag in his mouth. I saw his shoulders tighten as he tested the chains. They didn't seem to give way for him any more than mine had for me.

Murphy's voice slid through the darkness a moment later, sounding sharp against the steady, liquid chant of the entropy curse. "Harry? Where is he?"

"I have no idea," I said, keeping the point of the sword low.

"Can he see in the dark?"

"Um. Tell you in a minute."

"Oh," she said. "Crap."

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