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breaths.
    And she loved it. From the looks of things she didn't have a choice.
    The puppy's silent growl buzzed against the skin of my arm. Anger flashed through me in a wave of silent outrage.
    "Stop it," I said in a quiet voice. "Get out of her head."
    "This doesn't concern you," Thomas replied.
    "Like hell it doesn't. Back off on the mind-mojo. Right now. Or you and I are going to have words."
    Thomas's gaze moved to me. Something vicious in his eyes flashed with a cold fury and one of his hands closed into a fist. Then he shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. He spoke before they opened.
    "The less she knows about the details," he said in a rough, strained voice, "the safer she's going to be."
    "From who?" I demanded.
    "From anyone who might not like me or my House," Thomas said. The words were laced with a hint of a feral snarl. "If she doesn't know any more than any other doe, there's no reason to target her. It's one of the only things I can do to protect her. Back off, wizard, or I'll be happy to start the conversation myself."
    Just then Arturo finished his call and turned back to us. He blinked and stopped short of conversation distance. "I'm sorry. Did I miss something?"
    Thomas arched an eyebrow at me.
    I took a deep breath and said, "No. We just stumbled onto an uncomfortable topic. But we can put a lid on it until later."
    "Good," Arturo said. "Now where were we?"
    "I need to take Justine home," Thomas said. "She's had a little too much tonight. Best of luck, Arturo."
    Arturo nodded to him and managed to smile. "Thank you, Tommy boy, for your help."
    "It's nothing." He slipped an arm around Justine, drawing her with him, and nodded to me as he left the room. "Later, Harry."
    I rose too, and asked Arturo, "Where do you want me tomorrow?"
    He sat down his bottle of wine, grabbed a memo pad off the desk, and scribbled down an address. Then he withdrew a roll of money, peeled off ten bills and slapped a thousand dollars cash down on top of the address. I collected all of it.
    "I do not know if I believe in your sincerity, Mr. Dresden," Arturo said.
    I waved the bills. "As long as you're paying, I don't really need you to believe in me. See you in the morning, Mr. Genosa."
     

Chapter Five

    I shambled back to my place around late o'clock. Mister, the bobtailed grey tomcat who shares my apartment, hurled himself at my legs in a shoulder-block of greeting. Mister weighs twenty-five or thirty pounds, and I had to brace myself against his ritual affection.
    Mister tilted his head at me and sniffed at the air. Then he made a low, warning sound of his imperial displeasure. As I came in, he bounded up onto the nearest bit of furniture and peered at the puppy still sleeping in my arm.
    "Temporary," I assured him. I sat down on the couch. "He isn't staying."
    Mister narrowed his eyes, prowled over to me, and swatted at the puppy with an indignant paw.
    "Take it easy. This little lunatic is a featherweight." I murmured a minor spell and lit a few candles around my apartment with my will. I dialed the number where I had been contacting Brother Wang while he was in town, but got only a recording telling me the number had been disconnected. The phones are occasionally wacky when it's me using them, so I tried again. No success. Bah. My bones ached and I wanted to rest, safe and cozy in my lair.
    Said lair was in the basement of a creaky old boardinghouse built better than a hundred years ago. It had sunken windows high up on its walls, and largely consisted of a single living area around a fireplace. I had old, comfortable furniture—a sofa, a love seat, a couple of big recliner-type chairs. They didn't match, but they looked soft and inviting. The stone floor was covered with a variety of area rugs, and I'd softened the look of the concrete walls with a number of tapestries and framed pictures.
    The whole place was sparkling clean, and the air smelled of pine boughs. Even the fireplace was scoured down to a clean