JIM BUTCHER - SMALL FAVOR

I took my shield bracelet out of my duster pocket and fastened it on, wincing as it went over the mild burns on my wrist. “You know me, Michael. I’m always careful.”

I walked to the front door and looked out the window.

The lights on the street were all out, except for the streetlight in front of Michael’s house. Nicodemus stood in the center of the street outside. His shadow stretched out long and dark to one side of him-the side opposite the one it should have been on, given the position of the light.

Mouse came to my side and planted himself there firmly.

I rested my hand on my dog’s thick neck for a moment, searching the darkness outside for anything or anyone else. I saw nothing-which meant nothing, really. Anything could be out there in the dark.

But the only thing I knew was out there was a scared little girl.

“Let’s go,” I said to Mouse, and stalked out into the snow.

I t was snowing again. Five or six inches had fallen since the last time anyone cleared the Carpenters’ front walk. My footsteps crunched through the silent winter air. You could have heard them a block away.

Nicodemus waited for me, stylishly casual in a deep green silk shirt and black trousers. He watched me come with a neutral expression, his eyes narrowed.

I shivered when a breath of cold wind touched me, and my weary muscles threatened to go out of control. Dammit, I was the one working for the Winter Queen. So how come everyone else got to be perfectly comfortable in the middle of a blizzard?

I stopped at the end of Michael’s driveway and planted my staff on the ground. Nicodemus stared silently at me for a while. The shadows had shifted to mask his expression, and I couldn’t see his face very well.

“What,” he said in a low, deadly tone, “is that?”

Mouse stared at Nicodemus, and let out a growl so low that individual snowflakes jumped up off the ground all around him. My dog bared his teeth, showing long white fangs, and his snarl rose in volume.

Hell’s bells. I’d never seen Mouse react like that, except in earnest combat.

And it looked like Nicodemus didn’t like Mouse much, either.

“Answer my question, Dresden,” Nicodemus growled. “What is that ?”

“A precaution against getting stuck in deep snow,” I said. “He’s training to be a Saint Bernard.”

“Excuse me?” Nicodemus said.

I mimed covering one of Mouse’s ears with my hand and stage-whispered, “Don’t tell him that they don’t actually carry kegs of booze on their collars. Break his little heart.”

Nicodemus didn’t move, but his shadow shifted until it lay in a shapeless little pool between him and Mouse. His face came into view again, and he was smiling. “It’s been a little while since anyone was quite that insolent to my face. May I ask you a question?”

“Why not?”

“Do you always retreat into insouciance when you’re frightened, Dresden?”

“I don’t think of it as retreating. I think of it as an advance to the cheer. May I ask you a question?”

The smile widened. “Oh, why not?”

“How come some of you losers seem to have personal names, and the others just get called after the Fallen in the coin?”

“It isn’t complicated,” Nicodemus said. “Some of our order are active, willing minds, with strength enough to retain their sense of self. Others are”-he shrugged a shoulder, an elegant, arrogant little motion-“of little consequence. Disposable vessels, and nothing more.”

“Like Rasmussen,” I muttered.

Nicodemus looked puzzled for a moment. Then his eyes narrowed suddenly, focusing intently upon me. His shadow stirred again, and something made a noise that sounded like a disturbingly serpentine whisper. “Oh, yes, Ursiel’s vessel. Precisely.” He looked past me to the house. “Have your friends begun whispering behind your back yet?”

They sure as hell had, though I had no idea why. I hung on to my poker face. “Why would they?”

“Try to imagine the Aquarium from their point of view. They enter a building with you, along with someone they would not normally bring along-but you have insisted that the police detective accompany your group. As a result, you walk away to a private conference with just you, me, and the Archive’s guard dog. Then the sign goes up, and they can hear a terrible conflict raging. They race to the scene as quickly as possible and find my people dragging you out of the water-to take back the coin you had in your pocket, but your friends had no way of knowing that. They find the Archive gone, her bodyguard wounded or dead, and you being apparently assisted by my people.

“And they never saw what happened ,” Nicodemus continued. “To a suspicious mind, you might seem an accomplice to the act.”

I swallowed. “I doubt that.”

“Oh?” Nicodemus said. “Even though you’re about to propose giving me back the coins you took at the Aquarium? Eleven coins, Dresden. Should I recover them, everything you and your people have done during the past few days will mean nothing. I’ll be just as strong and possess the power of the Archive to boot. It is hardly a stretch to consider that you would be ideally positioned to betray them at a critical moment-which this is.”

I…hadn’t thought of it like that.

“‘What if he’s finally falling to the influence of her shadow?’ they’re thinking. ‘What if he’s not wholly in control of his own decisions?’ they’re thinking. Treachery is a more dangerous weapon than any magic, Dresden. I’ve had two thousand years to practice arranging it, and your friends the Knights know it.”

Suddenly Michael’s attitude began to make a lot more sense, and the pot roast fought to come back up. I tried to keep my poker face, but it wouldn’t stick.

“Ouch,” Nicodemus said, his eyes widening. “After all those years of baseless suspicion and hostility from your own Council, that must be a painful realization.” He smirked at Mouse and then at me. “Your little heart must be breaking.”

Mouse pressed his shoulder against my leg and snarled savagely at Nicodemus, taking a step forward.

Nicodemus ignored him, his focus all on me. “It’s a tempting offer,” he said. “Exchanging the coins for the Archive? Presenting me with an opportunity to walk away with every jewel in the vault? It’s something I can hardly ignore. Well-done.”

“So?” I said. “Where do you want to set it up?”

He shook his head. “I don’t,” he said quietly. “This is endgame, Dresden, even if you and yours can’t accept it. Once I have the Archive, the rest is simply an exercise. Losing the coins will hurt, true, but I don’t need them. Thorned Namshiel is of no real use to me in his current condition, and I haven’t worked for two thousand years only to take a gamble at the last second. No deal.”

I swallowed. “Then why are you here?”

“To give you a chance to reconsider,” Nicodemus said. “I think you and I are not so very different. Both of us are creatures of will. Both of us live our lives for ideals, not material things. Both of us are willing to sacrifice to attain our goals.”

“Maybe we should wear matching outfits.”

He spread his hands. “I could be an ally far more effective and dangerous than any you have now. I’m willing to compromise with you, and make some of your goals my own. I can provide you with support beyond anything your own Council has ever done for you. The material gain of such a partnership is a passing matter, ultimately, but wouldn’t you enjoy living in something other than a musty basement? Don’t you get tired of coming home to cold showers, cheap food, and an empty bed?”