Read Online Dead Beat by Jim Butcher - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jim Butcher
Tags: United States, Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Fantasy fiction, Fiction - Fantasy, Fantasy, Fantasy - Contemporary, Contemporary, People & Places, Juvenile Fiction, Magic, Detective and Mystery Stories, Wizards, Dresden, American Science Fiction And Fantasy, Chicago (Ill.), Harry (Fictitious character), Harry (Fictitious cha
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battle where I nearly lost my hand. The emotions I'd always felt seemed to be hitting me harder and harder lately, and sometimes I had to literally close my eyes and count to ten to keep from losing control. Right then I wanted to scream and howl—partly in joy at being alive, and partly in rage that someone had tried to kill me. I wanted to call up my power and start laying waste with it, to feel the raw energy of creation scorching through my thoughts and body, mastered by raw will. I wanted to cut loose.
But I couldn't do that. Even among the strongest wizards on the planet, I'm no lightweight. I don't have the finesse and class and experience that a lot of the older practitioners do, but when it comes to raw metaphysical muscle, I rank in the top thirty or forty wizards alive. I had a ton of strength, but I didn't always have the fine control to go with it— that's why I had to use specially prepared articles such as my bracelet and my ring to focus that power. Even with them, it wasn't always easy to be precise. The last time I had surrendered my self-control and really cut loose with my power, I burned as many as a dozen people to scorched skeletons.
I had a responsibility to keep that destructive strength in check; to use it to help people, to protect them. It didn't matter that I still felt terrified. It didn't matter that my hand was screaming with pain. It didn't matter that my car had been mutilated yet again, or that someone had tried to kill one of the few people in town I considered a real friend.
I had to hold back. Be careful. Think clearly.
"Harry?" Butters asked after a minute. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Just give me a minute."
"I don't understand this," he said. His voice didn't sound any too steady either. "What just happened?"
"You don't want to know," I said.
"Yes, I do."
"Trust me," I said. "You don't want to be involved in this kind of business."
"Why not?"
"You'll get hurt. Or killed. Don't go looking for trouble."
He let out a frustrated neighing sound. "Those people came for me. I didn't go looking for them. They were looking for me ."
He had a point, but even so, Butters was not someone I would want to see involved in a conflict between people like Grevane and his dead men and his liver-skinned partner. Mortals usually didn't fare too well when it came to tangling with preternatural bad guys. In my day I'd seen dozens of men and women die from it, despite everything I did to help them.
"This is unreal," Butters said. "I know you and Murphy have talked about this black-magic supernatural stuff a lot. And I've seen some things that are tough to explain. But… I never imagined something like this could happen."
"You're happier that way," I said. "Hell, if I could do it, I might want to forget I ever found out about any of it."
"I'm happier being scared?" he asked almost timidly. "I'm happier wondering if maybe my bosses were right the whole time, and I really am insane? I'm happier being in danger, and having no idea what to do about it?"
I didn't have a quick answer for that one. I stared at my hands. The trembling had almost stopped.
"Help me understand this, Harry," he said. "Please."
Well, dammit.
I raked the fingers of my right hand through my hair. Grevane had been after Butters, specifically. He had backup waiting outside, and he trashed Butters's truck to make sure the little guy couldn't escape. He openly said that he needed Butters, and needed him in one piece to boot.
All of which meant that Butters was in very real—and very serious— danger. And by now I've learned that I can't always protect everyone. I screw up sometimes, like everyone else. I make stupid mistakes.
If I kept quiet, if I forced Butters to wear blinders, he wouldn't be able to do jack to protect himself. If I made a bad call and something happened to him, it would be my fault that he didn't have every chance to survive. His blood would be on my hands.
I couldn't take that choice away from him. I
But I couldn't do that. Even among the strongest wizards on the planet, I'm no lightweight. I don't have the finesse and class and experience that a lot of the older practitioners do, but when it comes to raw metaphysical muscle, I rank in the top thirty or forty wizards alive. I had a ton of strength, but I didn't always have the fine control to go with it— that's why I had to use specially prepared articles such as my bracelet and my ring to focus that power. Even with them, it wasn't always easy to be precise. The last time I had surrendered my self-control and really cut loose with my power, I burned as many as a dozen people to scorched skeletons.
I had a responsibility to keep that destructive strength in check; to use it to help people, to protect them. It didn't matter that I still felt terrified. It didn't matter that my hand was screaming with pain. It didn't matter that my car had been mutilated yet again, or that someone had tried to kill one of the few people in town I considered a real friend.
I had to hold back. Be careful. Think clearly.
"Harry?" Butters asked after a minute. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Just give me a minute."
"I don't understand this," he said. His voice didn't sound any too steady either. "What just happened?"
"You don't want to know," I said.
"Yes, I do."
"Trust me," I said. "You don't want to be involved in this kind of business."
"Why not?"
"You'll get hurt. Or killed. Don't go looking for trouble."
He let out a frustrated neighing sound. "Those people came for me. I didn't go looking for them. They were looking for me ."
He had a point, but even so, Butters was not someone I would want to see involved in a conflict between people like Grevane and his dead men and his liver-skinned partner. Mortals usually didn't fare too well when it came to tangling with preternatural bad guys. In my day I'd seen dozens of men and women die from it, despite everything I did to help them.
"This is unreal," Butters said. "I know you and Murphy have talked about this black-magic supernatural stuff a lot. And I've seen some things that are tough to explain. But… I never imagined something like this could happen."
"You're happier that way," I said. "Hell, if I could do it, I might want to forget I ever found out about any of it."
"I'm happier being scared?" he asked almost timidly. "I'm happier wondering if maybe my bosses were right the whole time, and I really am insane? I'm happier being in danger, and having no idea what to do about it?"
I didn't have a quick answer for that one. I stared at my hands. The trembling had almost stopped.
"Help me understand this, Harry," he said. "Please."
Well, dammit.
I raked the fingers of my right hand through my hair. Grevane had been after Butters, specifically. He had backup waiting outside, and he trashed Butters's truck to make sure the little guy couldn't escape. He openly said that he needed Butters, and needed him in one piece to boot.
All of which meant that Butters was in very real—and very serious— danger. And by now I've learned that I can't always protect everyone. I screw up sometimes, like everyone else. I make stupid mistakes.
If I kept quiet, if I forced Butters to wear blinders, he wouldn't be able to do jack to protect himself. If I made a bad call and something happened to him, it would be my fault that he didn't have every chance to survive. His blood would be on my hands.
I couldn't take that choice away from him. I
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