FIC: other things the road to hell is paved with [5/?]

[luciazephyr]

Title: other things the road to hell is paved with [5/?]
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, potentially R or NC-17 later.
Summary: Another way the Baron rose to power. Another way the wizard became a Knight.
Word Count: This Chapter: 5520. So far: 26706.

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

And because I am an idiot, I was surprised when Billy the Friendly Neighborhood Werewolf called me and reminded me to bring beer for the Christmahannusolstice party.

"Hell's bells, that's tonight?"

Billy sighed over the line. "You're going to skip out on us, aren't you?"

"No, no! I didn't say that!" I looked at the clock on the wall and gave it some thought. Today was my day to eradicate the Nix, but I also really wanted to go out and pretend my life wasn't a bit of a mess with some D&D and friends. Susan was out of town to see her family until New Years and I didn't have anyone else to spend the holiday with. It was one thing to tell Marcone I wasn't the type to celebrate Christmas, but when it got right down to it, nothing was more depressing than being alone at the end of the December.

I'd been there before a few times. It tended to involve sitting in my lab three sheets to the wind, whining to Bob about how I was a friendless pitiful wreck of a man who was unloved and persecuted by my own community. Kind of embarrassing.

Anyway, the Marina was closed. I mean, who in their right mind would break into a run down marina in this weather? Not even a nice, fancy boat club-type of marina. The damn Poseidon Marina wasn't going to get any visitors tonight. It was very nice of the Nix to limit its hunting to a single day a week. I'd go the party and if I got out in time, I'd go take care of the Nix. If not, I'd get it next Thursday. I was a man with a plan.

"Harry?"

"I'll be there. Sorry, it just slipped my mind. But I'll definitely be there."

"Good, because you need to pick up the beer. The rest of us get carded."

The fact the Alphas mainly consisted of college kids really hit me. "You all are twenty-one or older, right?"

Billy was quiet for a long moment. "Yes."

"God, I'm your enabler, aren't I?" I chuckled. "And here I thought you guys actually liked me."

"We do. The fact you can bring us beer is just a bonus. You're our favorite wizard-slash-occult private detective."

"I'm filled with warm feelings."

"Come over at six, you'll be full of pizza too."

I wasn't one to turn down such a great invitation. I left the Nix eradication tools in the lab and went out to pick up beer before heading over to Hyde Park with my dice knocking together in the pocket of my duster and a smile on my face. I felt strangely satisfied on some deep, neglected level. I'd found somewhere I was welcome. Wanted, just for myself and my company, not as a last resort in some supernatural crises. It was a new, welcome feeling.

I had a seat at the folding card table that served as the game board for the Alphas. Next to me, Alex started handing out character sheets. "New campaign, in honor of our new guest. Mitchell's DM for this one."

Georgia rolled her dice dutifully, frowning at what numbers she was getting. "Why bother, Alex? You always play a cleric. Always."

"I might get better rolls this time."

"Oh, so you can break the game faster?"

Mitchell gave me an exasperated look. I had the feeling this argument came up a lot. "Alex, if you start that shit again, I will nerf you with my mighty DM powers."

Alex scoffed. "That's not fair! It's in the core books, why is it my fault?"

"Because you exploit them, jackass," Billy said, tossing his dice lazily. "Harry, I have a few premades if you want. I think I have a wizard even."

I got out my dice and a pen. "Nah, I'll play barbarian, thanks. My lowest roll is going in intelligence. Do they still have that thing where barbarians have to buy the ability to read? I haven't cracked a Player's Handbook in years."

"You're going to use intelligence as a dump stat?" Mitchell boggled at me.

"Me Tarok the Large," I said, affecting a caveman drawl. "Me smash things for shiny monies. Me join party, help look for shinies."

"Oh, man, this is going to rock," Alex said, laughing.



"Tarok polishes armor. Cannot see shiny purple under all the troll blood."

"Purple?" Billy gave me a long look across the table, then cleared his throat and said in his character voice, "Tarok, might I ask why your armor is purple?"

"Silly bard, you ever see a half-orc in purple armor?"

"No, can't say I have."

"Dat because purple armor makes you dead sneaky." I wiggled my fingers. "Tarok will show rogues how it's done."

I wasn't trying to send the whole thing off the rails. I was rusty at the whole tabletop thing, so I reacted to everything in the most ridiculous way I could and hoped that would cover my ass. But then it seemed my ridiculousness was infectious.

"Can we see the creature?" Georgia asked Mitchell as the party found the final boss of the temple we'd just fought through.

"Hm, no, unless you want to use a skill to try. You just see this tall being at the end of the cave, just outside of the torchlight," Mitchell said.

"Okay. Is he, she, or it facing us?"

"No," Mitchell said slowly, narrowing his eyes at me as if to say 'don't get any ideas.' I put my hands up, going for an innocent face. He sighed and looked back at Georgia.

Georgia nodded, deciding. "Then I'll sneak up behind the thing and attack its ankles. That should lower its mobility. Always best to get your debuffs out of the way right off."

Mitchell's jaw dropped. "I... uh... Well, roll for it!"

I burst out laughing as Georgia rolled a natural 20. For you non-tabletoppers, you should know 20s are great for the player. A natural 20 is kind of like killing a toad demon by channeling a lightning storm, for instance. "What're the house rules? Extra damage with her weapon plus modifiers?"

"No!" Mitchell said, looking a little flabbergasted as he rolled a die behind his screen. "Oh, fuck."

And that's how we killed a black magic sorcerer that was supposed to be an unwinnable fight we were meant to lose for plot purposes. I clinked my beer bottle against Georgia's. "Cheers."


Then things got a little unconventional. Cindy, our ranger, rolled a 19, taking out the potion dealer from afar. Georgia's rogue slipped into the shop and looted it of everything her Bag of Holding could carry. Forgoing the dungeon crawl to uncover a dragon's horde of treasure, the party made a killing with potion sales and hired some mercenaries to plunder the horde for us.

"You guys," Mitchell cried, giving us all a hangdog expression. A hangwolf expression?

Billy rolled big and charmed the local Baroness into selling us her castle. We set up shop and started a business that catered to the potion-related needs of all the neighboring territories. With the profits, the party started a business with the local mercenaries, playing contractor for anyone who needed gruntwork done. Our beleaguered DM watched in horror.

"You guys!"


Sometime after midnight, Mitchell knocked over his screen with a flick of his finger. "I give. You win."

"Shinies for the shiny god!" I cheered.

"Wrong game, Harry."

"Tarok don't care!"

Alex punched me in the arm. "Congrats on breaking Mitch." Mitchell made a sad, dejected sound.

"All in a day's work." I knocked back the last of my beer before standing. I'd only had the one, the Alphas drinking most of what I brought like it was a competition of some kind. Kids these days. "I better head out. You kids be good."

I headed out into the cold, feeling cheerful. As much as it forced our DM to scramble to keep the ball rolling, everyone seemed to have enjoyed the evening. It turned into a game of who could derail the plot train more than the last guy. I was binged on pizza and good company. I was ready for a careful drive home and crashing for a good ten hours or so.

As I crunched through the new layer of snow on the way to the Beetle, I found my car was boxed in by a sleek black Mercedes, parked too close for me to get out of my parallel park.

There was also the matter of John Marcone sitting on the hood of my car, watching my approach with a guarded, hooded look in his eyes.

I walked up to him, ambling leisurely. "We got to talk about this stalking thing you do, John."

Marcone slid off my car and walked to the Mercedes, opening the rear passenger door. "Get in, Mr. Dresden."

There was no humor in his voice, none of the indulgent concern he often leveled at me. My warm fuzzy feelings were replaced with a cold dread spreading in my chest. "What happened?"

"I am not going to say it again, Dresden," Marcone nearly growled at me, continuing to hold the door, waiting.

I didn't need to be told again. I spared the Alpha's de facto HQ a hopeful look, wishing someone would glance out the window to see me getting hustled into a car by Gentleman Johnnie, but no such luck. Instead I carefully avoided Marcone's eyes, not wanting to see that fierce, controlled anger in them as I slid into the vehicle.

Marcone climbed in after me and shut the door. Instantly, the car locked up and pulled away from the curb.

I was getting a bit freaked out. "So, uh. Is this the point where you kiss me in a brotherly fashion, say it's just business, then have me killed?"

Marcone said nothing, just sat there with his hands balled into white knuckled fists in his lap.

I broke out in a cold sweat. "Guess you liked Goodfellas more," I murmured as I started contemplating blasting the car door open with a bit of magic and throwing myself out. "Marcone, you got to tell me something. I get that you're upset--"

"Mr. Dresden, you lied to me, and one of my people was hurt because of your lie. To say I am upset with you would be a phenomenal understatement. Your incessant babbling is not endearing you to me. For your own sake, be silent."

Generally when someone tells me to shut up, I do the opposite because I'm contrary like that. This was not such a time. I clammed up and didn't say another word for the rest of the drive.



In the quiet car, time seemed to move slowly, but eventually we did get to our destination. We parked in the Northwestern Memorial Hospital lot. I almost turned to ask Marcone what the hell was going on, but he was already climbing out of the car before it came to a total stop. A tap on my window signaled that I was meant to follow. I reluctantly got out and fell into Marcone's shadow, tailing him as he went into the hospital. He didn't stop to talk to anyone, bypassing the receptionist and heading directly to the elevators.

As soon as the door closed, Marcone reached into the inside pocket of his suit and pulled out two familiar bracelets. "Put these on."

I gave the Stonehenge bracelets a withering glare. "I'd rather not."

"That wasn't a request. You're not walking into Hendricks' room with your magic untapped."

My eyes widened. "We're going to see Hendricks? What happened?"

Marcone's lips pressed together, a thin pale line. He continued to hold out the bracelets. Eventually, I gave in, taking them and putting them on. I shuddered at the feeling of my magic being suppressed. Imagine something that you take for granted because it's so constant in your life, like the ability to tell textures apart or see color. It was like losing one of those-- unsettling as hell. But we were in a hospital, filled with sick people and the delicate, advanced machinery that kept them alive. On some level, I liked the bracelets for making my magic less dangerous in places like these.

We got out on one of the upper levels of the hospital. Marcone led on with a purposeful stride. One nurse moved to intercept us, but the glare he shot her was so venomous, she faltered mid-step and let us go.

"Scaring the nurses, Marcone," I murmured uselessly.

Marcone came to a stop in front of a door at the end of the hallway, far from everyone else. He opened it and waited for me to enter.

There were two beds in the room, but only one was occupied. Hendricks' large form was laid out on the far bed, near the window. The lug looked zombie pale, his skin a whitish grey with dark circles under his eyes. Seeing him out of a suit and in scrubs was unsettling to say the least. There were wires attached to his skin and a monitor watching his heartrate, steadily beeping. More than a few blankets were piled on him.

I hung back in the doorway and watched Marcone move to his bodyguard's side. "Mr. Hendricks," he whispered, his hand reaching out to cover the man's wrist. Hendricks stirred and grumbled something I didn't catch without opening his eyes. "I know you are," Marcone replied. "After this is done, you can rest as much as you need, I promise." His gaze still on Hendricks, he waved his hand at me, beckoning me over.

I shuffled over, feeling very nervous about the whole thing. I did not want to be there.

"Tell me what happened," Marcone said.

Hendricks mumbled something before coughing. "'ready did."

"I know. I need you to tell me again."

Hendricks opened one eye and looked at Marcone, then at me. He grunted and shut his eye again. "Went to do the job. Got th' boat unloaded, the merch put away."

That nervous feeling in my chest solidified into a deep dread. "At... at the Marina?"

Hendricks nodded weakly. "Yup. We made sure it'd be empty for the deal. It went fine, but then..." His brow furrowed. "Heard... music. From the dock. Went to see what it was."

I closed my eyes and put face in my hands. I already knew where the rest of the story was going to go.

"Then what, Mr. Hendricks?" Marcone prompted.

"Gets fuzzy. I 'member walking down the dock, tried to see where the music was comin' from. Got foggy allova sudden." He was slurring pretty badly. "Stood there for a moment. Then something..." Hendricks stopped and yawned suddenly, long and weary. "Grabbed me, my ankle. Water was cold. Felt something cut my arm, then I dunno." He shrugged one shoulder. "Woke up here, with the boss yelling at the doctors."

I lowered my hands from my face and looked at Marcone, who cracked the smallest smile. "I was not yelling."

"Maybe not. Sounded pissed, though," Hendricks said.

"I had reason to be." Marcone leaned forward and put his hand on Hendricks' forehead. "Thank you. You can sleep now."

"Oh, can I?" Hendricks mumbled dryly.

His breathing evened out less than a minute later, already sleeping again.

Marcone stood and gestured for me to follow. I fell into step behind him again, grateful we weren't talking yet. I was trying to hold back the overwhelming guilt I felt. While I goofed off with the Alphas, Hendricks had gotten attacked by something I knew about and could have taken care of. I didn't like Hendricks or his boss, but the big guy getting attacked by a Nix while just doing his job... Granted, the job sounded like it involved smuggling, but that didn't change anything. Hendricks might be a thug in the employ of a scumbag, and up to no good, but he was a human thug employed by a human scumbag in my city, and I'd let him get hurt by something I'd had the power to stop. Supernatural baddies were my jurisdiction.

In the car, Marcone wordlessly took the bracelets back off me and pocketed them. "Is Hendricks going to be okay?" I asked, ducking my head and rubbing my wrists.

"Yes. The other men heard the splash and pulled him out. He's had some blood loss and mild hypothermia. They tell me he might be released tomorrow depending on how he's feeling," Marcone reported with clinical coldness.

"The blood loss... The thing that grabbed him wanted blood," I mumbled, still staring at my hands in cowardice. I didn't want to look up anytime soon.

"The thing. You know what it is?"

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Yeah. It's called a Nix. Sort of Fae that's what you get if you mix a vampire with a mermaid."

"Can you do something about it?"

"Yeah. Have to do it now, before daybreak. Otherwise, it'll be gone until next Thursday."

"Then we have little time to lose. Do you have what you need?" I shook my head. "Fine." He leaned forward and tapped the glass separating the front and back seats. It slid open a crack. "To Mr. Dresden's apartment, and quickly."

As expected, the drive was quick, but tense and silent. I kept my eyes shut and didn't say anything to break the quiet.



I made the stop at my apartment fast, grabbing the things I needed and stuffing them in my duster pockets before returning to the car. A jar of iron powder and a bottle filled with... well...

"Is that what I think it is?" Marcone said as I opened the bottle, held it between my knees, and started slowly tapping the powder into it.

"Yeah. Don't worry though, I ate my cookies and juice after donating." I capped the bottle and shook it vigorously before adding more iron.

"That looks like nearly a liter."

"I staggered it out and was careful. I'm fine to kick Fae ass."

Marcone frowned at me before looking away, out the window. I got the feeling he wanted to press further. He seemed to secretly be a mother hen towards his employees. If I hadn't just gotten his golden boy nearly killed, he'd probably fuss more. I wasn't happy about the Hendricks thing, but any distance it provided between Marcone and I was welcome. Having a mob boss fuss over me, bringing me food and being so affable and solicitous, it'd been unsettling.

So did I prefer the Friendly Neighborhood Mafioso or the one who was living up to his press and scaring me a bit? No idea. A few times, I looked away from my work to glance at him, trying to guess where under his suit he might be hiding a silenced firearm, ready to disappear me into Lake Michigan if I screwed this up.

It was thankfully still dark when we reached the Marina. Once again, Marcone and I were alone, leaving the car and its driver behind as we headed inside. This time, he let me go first. I actually preferred when he was leading. Now I had to deal with the weight of his gaze on me, which I could feel like an itch on the back of my neck.

Upon reaching the docks, I stopped and looked around. I hadn't expected a sign saying 'Hungry Nix Here,' as helpful as it would have been. The Nix had already gotten a bite out of Hendricks, so it probably wouldn't be poking around for more tonight.

That's why I pulled a teacup out of my pocket and set it at the end of one of the docks, balanced carefully on the edge of the wood. Then I patted myself and swore under my breath.

"Problem?" Marcone asked.

"I need something sharp. I thought I grabbed a needle, but I can't find the damn thing now."

Marcone flicked his wrist and a long, shiny knife appeared in his hand, the movement as smooth as any magician's slight of hand. "Will this work?"

"Where did that come from?" In response, he just looked at me. I swallowed thickly and took the knife. "Y-yeah, that'll work."

Kneeling, I leaned over the teacup and placed the blade to my hand, the point pressed against the fleshy outside edge of my palm. The knife was thankfully sharp enough that it went in easily, barely hurting as I sank the tip into my skin. I winced as I pulled it out, carefully tilting the knife so my blood didn't slide off.

I tipped three drops of blood into the cup before standing. After wiping the rest off my blood off it, I handed the knife back to Marcone. It was a little awkward, like giving someone back a handkerchief after you used it, but Marcone just unbuttoned the sleeve of his suit coat and tucked the knife up inside it, where I assumed he had a sheath of some sort.

"And now?"

I stepped back from the dock's edge. "I made an offering. The Nix should appear to accept it and begin negotiations."

He nodded to the teacup. "Just a few drops? It took more from Mr. Hendricks."

As if I needed the reminder. "It's traditional. And it's wizard blood, so..." I shrugged.

"How soon will we know?"

Again, I shrugged. "I've never dealt with Nixes before. If I had its Name, I could call it, but I don't know who we're dealing with."

Marcone grimaced, like the fact we were dealing with unknown elements was deeply irritating to him. The way Marcone collected information on me and presumably everyone else in Chicago, I had the feeling I wasn't far off there. Knowledge was power and Marcone liked holding that power in any given situation.

We stood in silence on the dock for a while. After having enjoyed such an easy rapport with him up until today, the lack of banter made me tense. When we talked at Ganymede, I came close to openly threatening him and he just smiled and made a joke out of it. Now, without the insulation of our customary repartie, he was freaking me out, all that intensity unmitigated and laser-focused on me. Every time I caught his pale green eyes on me, I had to suppress a flinch.

And I blamed myself. Because yeah, I fucked up. In hindsight, the way the Marina's desk boy mentioned the place being closed on Thursday should have added to the fact Marcone called this a place of interest to equal obvious shady goings-on. And I could've skipped the Alphas' party to take out the Nix. Or I could have called Marcone back after Bob confirmed my theories and told him.

But I didn't. I had it in my head that dealing with Nixes and drug-producing sorcerers and loup garou was my job alone. And, dammit, I had reason to think that way, but it did get me in trouble a lot lately. Or, in this case, it got Hendricks in trouble.

Before I could get in some good mental self-flagellation over that, a fog rolled in, so sudden it could only be magical. It abruptly became hard to see even a few feet in front of me. I pulled my pentacle off my neck and wound it around my hand. Pushing some of my will into it, the silver pendant lit up brightly, cutting through the fog somewhat.

I put myself between the edge of the dock and Marcone. "Stay behind me," I said quietly.

"Don't insult my intelligence, Mr. Dresden," Marcone sniped back, tone just a hair shy of bitchy.

"Geez, sorry," I muttered. I had actually considered telling Marcone to wait inside the Marina office. No way I was going to risk that now. Between Marcone and the murderous water Fae, I was more willing to take on the Nix at the moment.

Speaking of the devil, as I kept my eyes on the teacup, I saw it. One hand reached up from the water and gripped the pier. Another joined it, and the creature's sharp nails dug into the weather-beaten wood. With that leverage, it pulled itself up and into view.

Nix were shapeshifters, using their beauty and music to lure in prey. This one appeared as a dark-haired male with algae green skin shimmering from the sheen of water on it. Its face was angular around bright ocean blue eyes that glowed through the dark twilight and fog. Strong arms lifted it from the water, and the Nix sat itself on the dock, legs bending gracefully into a lotus position. It was wearing, oddly enough, blue jeans that clung snugly to its body. The hem of the jeans was wet.

As we watched, the Nix dipped its finger into the cup and swirled it in my blood. It then placed its finger in its mouth and sucked the offering off, eyes fluttering shut. The thing moaned, more than a little sexually.

I could feel heat rushing to my face. The Nix wore its Fae glamour far too well. I could admit the Nix was, well, beautiful in a Golden Hollywood way. You'd think the green skin thing would take away from that, but not really. If anything, it made the Nix more exotic.

"Mm, mm, mmmm," it purred. "It's been a long, long time since I've had a treat like that." It lifted its eyes to mine. "Yours, I assume, little magus?"

I tore my gaze away from its. Something about its glamour mixed with the fact it had my blood, I was slightly worried about being charmed by the thing. "Yes."

"A worthy offering." It smiled at me, teeth sharp and obvious despite the glamour. "What would you wish of me, little magus?"

"You have been hunting these waters for the last few months. I'd like you to stop."

It licked its lips. "Usually I would say no outright, but you might have a tasty deal to make. What do you give me in return?"

I got kind of distracted by the fact its tongue was a strange dark green instead of a human pink. I shut my eyes and took a breath. Amazing how just a little blood could let it affect me so much.

And it was the blood making me so susceptible. That's all. No one can prove otherwise.

"I would have you leave this place and never return to Chicago's waters for the rest of your days," I said. Its eyes narrowed at me, unhappy with such terms.

"In return, I would get your human?" It tilted its head to smile at Marcone standing behind me.

I'd... forgotten he was there, actually. I jumped and looked back at him. Marcone gave me a grave, disapproving look. The implication that I had any ownership of him seemed to agitate him further. Which, you know, was exactly what I needed right now, yeah. "No." I shook myself and faced the Nix again. "He's not for sale, sorry."

"More's the pity," the Nix murmured. It looked back at me. "So what do you offer then, little magus?"

I pulled the bottle out of my coat, holding it up. "More of my blood."

Its eyes gleamed with hunger. "That is a fair portion. Is it fresh?"

For certain qualities of fresh, I thought. It was a few days old. It took a while to bleed yourself that much without passing out. I nodded to the Nix and could see it thinking about the offer. I tried not to let my anxiety show.

It was a risk, to hand over such a large amount of my own blood. Faerie magic wasn't like mortal magic, but that didn't change the fact that a liter was a lot of blood as far as magic was concerned. If the Nix wanted, it could use the blood to control me further. I was willing to bet my apartment that would mean I'd become intimately close to those sharp teeth. Not the best case scenario, basically.

But I was hoping on things not working out that way. I was telling the truth about having a plan.

"So. This bottle in return for you leaving Chicago waters for good. Deal?"

The Nix rose to its feet, unfolding from its seated position as fluidly as a wave. It was almost as tall as I was and its stride was long as it approached me.

I pulled my blasting rod out of my coat and pointed it at the Nix. "Don't."

It held up its hands in a placating gesture. "Oh, little magus, so distrustful."

"I've had some experience with the Fae before," I replied.

"Have you?" The Nix tapped its fingers against its lips. Its full, emerald lips... I shook myself again. Focus. "How about an addendum to our deal?" The Nix held a hand against its bare chest over where its heart would be. That is, if it had one. I wasn't certain if Fae did, to tell the truth. "I will not use your blood against you, to seduce or influence. I will do naught to harm you."

"What?" That wasn't part of my plan. It may have sounded like the Nix was making a pretty sweet deal, but that in itself made me extremely suspicious. I had planned on the iron tainting my bottled blood to poison the Nix when it inevitably took a drink from the bottle. The high concentration of iron powder should had been like a kick in the teeth to the Nix. That much iron would weaken it, making any attempts to work its magic on me impossible. By the time it recovered, my blood would no longer be fresh enough for a decent spell.

That was a big catch with thaumaturgy and similar magic. Mortal Names changed over time, blood lost its potency, possessions lost their connection to their owners. My blood was fresh, but not that fresh, nevermind the fact it was tainted with iron.

That had been my plan, anyway. Now though, I was worried.

"Exactly as I said. I give my word." The Nix held out its hand. "Give me the bottle and I shall hunt in these waters no more."

Slowly, I lowered my blasting rod. I didn't know what else I could do without giving away my deception and causing the Nix to attack. I was taking a bigger gamble than I'd anticipated when I came up with this plan.

I placed the bottle in the Nix's hand. I didn't immediately let go though, instead meeting the Nix's eyes and asking, "What's your game? You're probably a Nix of the Winter Court. Winter is in power now. This isn't enough to make you leave if you're not going to use it to influence me."

The Nix tightened its grip on the bottle and yanked it out of my hands. In a flash, it backed up to the edge of the dock before smiling at me. "You are too shortsighted, Harry Dresden." With a dancer's grace, the Nix spun on its toes and dove back into the water.

The fog receded and the presence of the Nix faded from my senses. Rather than relief, I felt a sudden crushing worry. I only realized then, as my mind cleared of the Nix's charms, that the Nix promised it would not use my blood against me.

It said nothing about someone else using my blood.

"Hell's bells," I whispered, staggering back a step like I'd been punched.

Marcone put a hand on my shoulder. "Mr. Dresden?"

"I'm... fine. The blood's fairly useless with all that iron and it's not that fresh. The Nix probably can't do anything with it. No one should be able to use it." I let out a long, shaking breath, trying very hard not to think about who in the Nevernever could have wanted my blood and what they could have done if I hadn't sabotaged it.

One name came to mind. Many things she could've done to me also came to mind.

I rubbed my face with both hands and willed myself to calm down. I was going to be fine. I'd made an admittedly dirty deal, but I hadn't lied at any point, so the deal would hold. The Nix couldn't come back to get revenge, being limited to water to fuel its powers.

I was fine.

I sighed, letting the tension in my shoulders go out. Marcone's hand squeezed once before dropping away. I followed him as he left, letting myself relax.

I was fine. I was fine. I was fine--

As soon as I slid back into the car, the door locked. That wasn't unusual, so I paid no attention, my mind still on what had happened. I wasn't prepared for Marcone to catch my wrists and put his bracelets back on me, his movements fast and smooth. I yelped and tried get away, but it was a small car and Marcone grabbed my collar, pulling me back into him. It all happened very fast, only a second or two between my climbing into the Mercedes to being restrained and forced to stare into Marcone's bright, predatory eyes.

"You and I," he said calmly, "have things to discuss, Mr. Dresden."

Okay. I take it back.

I was definitely not fine.

Chapter Six