"They put you on probation under threat of summary execution, and you all but had to kill yourself to get cleared."
"Well, I was all but killing myself anyway. I mean, I didn't do it so that the Council would—"
She shook her head. "God, Harry. You just can't see it, can you? The Council doesn't care about you. They don't want to protect you. They will only put up with you as long as you toe the line and don't become an inconvenience."
"I'm already inconvenient."
"A liability, then," Elaine said.
"Look, some of the Council have their heads up their rear ends, sure. But there are good people there, too."
Elaine folded her arms and shook her head. "And how many of those good people don't want a thing to do with the Council?"
"Elaine—"
"No, Harry. I mean it. I don't want anything to do with them. I've lived this long without the Council's so-called protection. I think I can muddle through a little longer."
"Elaine, when they find out about you, it needs to be from you. If you come forward, it's going to cut down on any uneasiness or suspicion they might feel."
"Suspicion?" Elaine exclaimed. "Harry, I am not a criminal."
"You're just asking for trouble, Elaine."
"And how are they going to find out about me? Hmmm? Were you planning on running off to tattle?"
"Of course not," I said. But I was thinking how much trouble I was going to be in if one of the Wardens heard I was associating with someone who might be a violator of the First Law, and one of Justin DuMorne's apprentices at that. With the cloud of disfavor I was already under, adding that kind of suspicion to it might be enough to sink me, regardless of how the investigation turned out. Do I have a great life or what?
"I won't say anything," I said finally. "It has to be your choice, Elaine. But please believe me. Trust me. I have friends in the Council, too. They'll help."
Elaine's expression softened and became less certain. "You're sure?"
"Yeah," I said. "Cross my heart."
She leaned on her oddly carved staff and frowned. She was opening her mouth to speak when my reinforced door rattled under the rapping of a heavy fist.
"Dresden," Morgan growled from the other side of the door. "Open up, traitor. There are questions I need you to answer."
Chapter Nine
Elaine shot me a wide-eyed look and mouthed the word "Council?"
I nodded and pointed to my staff, in the corner along with my sword cane. Elaine picked it up without a word and tossed it to me. Then she moved silently through the door of my darkened bedroom and vanished inside.
The door rattled again. "Dresden," Morgan growled, "I know you're in there. Open the door."
I swung it open before he could go on. "Or you'll huff and you'll puff and so on?"
Morgan glowered at me, tall, sour, and dour as ever. He'd traded his robes and cloak for dark slacks, a grey silk shirt, and a sport coat. He carried a golf bag on one shoulder, and most people wouldn't have noticed the hilt of a sword nestled among the golf clubs. He leaned forward, cool eyes looking past me and into my apartment. "Dresden. Am I interrupting anything?"
"Well, I was going to settle down with a porn video and a bottle of baby oil, but I really don't have enough for two."
Morgan's expression twisted in revulsion, and I felt an absurd little burst of vindictive satisfaction. "You disgust me, Dresden."
"Yeah, I'm bad. I'm a bad, bad, bad man. I'm glad we got that settled. Good-bye, Morgan."
I started to shut my door in his face. He slammed his palm against it. Morgan was a lot stronger than me. The door stayed open.
"I'm not finished, Dresden."
"I am. It's been one hell of a day. If you've got something to say, say it."
Morgan's mouth set in a hard smile. "Normally I appreciate that kind of directness. Not with you."
"Gee, you don't appreciate me. I'll cry myself to sleep."
Morgan stroked his thumb over the strap to the golf bag. "I want to know how it is, Dresden, that Mab just happened to come to you about this problem. The one thing that can preserve your status with the Council, and it just happened to fall to you."
"Clean living," I said. "Plus my mondo wheels and killer bachelor pad."
Morgan looked at me with flat eyes. "You think you're funny."
"Oh, I know I'm funny. Unappreciated, but funny."
Morgan shook his head. "Do you know what I think, Dresden?"
"You think?" Morgan didn't smile. Like I said, unappreciated.
"I think that you've planned all of this. I think you are in with the vampires and the Winter Court. I think this is part of a deeper scheme."
I just stared at him. I tried not to laugh. I really did.
Well. Maybe I didn't try all that hard.
The laughter must have gotten to Morgan. He balled up his fist and slammed a stiff jab into my belly that took the wind out of my sails and half dropped me to my knees.
"No," he said. "You aren't going to laugh this off, traitor." He stepped into my apartment. The threshold didn't make him blink. The wards I had up caught him six inches later, but they weren't designed to be too much of an impediment to human beings. Morgan grunted, spoke a harsh word in a guttural tongue, maybe Old German, and slashed his hand in front of him. The air hissed and popped with static electricity, sparks flashing from his fingertips. He shook his fingers briefly, then walked in.
He looked around the place and shook his head again. "Dresden, you might not be a bad person, all in all. But I think that you're compromised. If you aren't working with the Red Court, then I am certain that they are using you. Either way, the threat to the Council is the same. And it's best removed by removing you."
I tried to suck in a breath and finally managed to say, "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Susan Rodriguez," Morgan said. "Your lover, the vampire."
Anger made bright lights flash behind my eyes. "She's not a vampire," I snarled.
"They turned her, Dresden. No one goes back. That's all there is to it."
"They haven't. She's not."
Morgan shrugged. "That's what you would say if she'd addicted you to the venom. You'd say or do just about anything for them by now."
I looked up at him, teeth bared. "Get the fuck out of my house."
He walked over to the fireplace and picked up a dust-covered gift card I'd left sitting on the mantel. He read it and snorted. Then he picked up a picture I had of Susan. "Pretty," he said. "But that's easy to come by. Odds are she was their pawn from the first day she met you."
I clenched my hands into fists. "You shut your mouth," I said. "You just shut your mouth about her. That's not how it was."
"You're a fool, Dresden. A young fool. Do you really think that a normal mortal woman would want anything to do with you or your life? You can't accept that she was just a tool. One of their whores."
I spun to the corner, letting go of my staff, and picked up my sword cane. I drew the blade free with a steely rasp and turned toward Morgan. He saw it coming and had already drawn the bright silver blade of the Wardens from the golf bag.
Every tired, aching, angry bone in my body wanted to lunge at him. I'm not heavy with muscle, but I'm not slow, and I've got arms and legs miles long. My lunge is quick, and I can do it from a long way back. Morgan was a seasoned soldier, but in such close quarters it would be a question of reflexes. Advantage to the guy with the sword weighed in ounces instead of stones.
In that moment, I was sure that I could have killed him. He might have taken me with him, but I could have done it. And I wanted to, badly. Not in any sort of intellectual sense, but in the part of the brain that does all of its thinking after the fact. My temper had frayed to bloody tatters, and I wanted to vent it on Morgan.