Dead Beat (Page 86)

"But…" I said. "Look, I know what it’s like going up against mortals you don’t want to kill. It’s difficult, but they can be stopped. Fought. Bullets and explosives can be defended against."

"Which is why they used gas," Ramirez said quietly, stepping in where Morgan’s and Luccio’s voices had failed. His own tone was serious. His grin had vanished. "A nerve agent, probably sarin. They deployed it against the entire hospital, the people we had protecting it, and six square blocks of city around it." He put his own bottle down and said, "No one survived."

"My God…" I whispered.

There was dead silence.

"Ebenezar?" I asked in a whisper. "You said he was wounded. Was he…"

Ramirez shook his head. "Stubborn old bastard wouldn’t go to the hospital," the young Warden said. "He went with one of the teams staging a counteroffensive with the Fellowship of Saint Giles."

"Thousands of innocent mortals died," Luccio said, and there was a slow, low snarl in her voice. She kept it tightly leashed and under control, but I heard it. I recognized it, and I knew what it was like to feel it permeating my words. "Women. Children. Thousands. And today I buried one hundred and forty-three Wardens."

I sat there, stunned.

In a single, vicious stroke, the Red Court had very nearly destroyed the White Council.

"They have crossed every line," Luccio said, her voice quiet and precise. "Violated every principle of war of our world and the mortal world alike. Madness. They have gone mad."

"They’ve committed suicide," I said quietly. "They don’t have a prayer against the Council and the Faerie Courts alike."

"The Sidhe were taken by surprise," Morgan rumbled. "They aren’t prepared for a fight. And we’re holding on by our fingernails. We’ve got less than fifty Wardens capable of combat. Without our communications network in order, members of the Council have been attacked individually and by surprise. We don’t know how many more wizards have died."

"And it gets even better," Ramirez said. "Agents of the Red Court are haunting the ways through Faerie. We were attacked on the way here, twice."

"Our priority," Luccio said, voice crisp, "is to consolidate our forces and to draw upon every available resource to restore the Wardens as a fighting force. We must draw the members of the Council together and make sure that they are protected. We’re reorganizing our security." She shook her head. "And frankly, we must protect the lives of the Senior Council. So long as they are concealed from the enemy and still able to take action, they are a dangerous force. Together they wield more power than any hundred members of the Council, and it can be concentrated with deadly effect, as the Merlin showed in the Nevernever. So long as they stand ready to strike, the enemy cannot openly unveil his full strength."

"More important," Morgan growled, "the mortal wizards who betrayed us, whoever they are, fear the Senior Council. That is why their first move was an attempt to destroy them."

Luccio nodded. "If we can hold on until the Faerie Courts mobilize for action, we can recover from this attack. Which brings us to today," Luccio said, and studied me, tired and frank. "Every other Warden able to fight is currently either engaged against the enemy or safeguarding the Senior Council. Our lines of support and communication are tenuous." She gestured at those seated at the table. "This is every resource the White Council has to spare."

I looked at the weary captain of the Wardens. At the battered Morgan. At Ramirez, who had reclaimed his cocky smile, and at Yoshimo and Kowalski, untried, quiet, and frightened.

"Warden Luccio," I said. "May I speak to you privately?"

Morgan scowled and said in a hot voice, "Anything you have to say to her you can say to all-"

Luccio put her hand on Morgan’s arm, a gentle gesture, but it cut him off. "Morgan. Perhaps you would be so kind as to get me another bottle. And I’m sure McAnally would be willing to provide us all with some dinner."

Morgan stared at her for a second, then at me. Then he rose, smudged the chalk circle with a boot, and broke the circle around the table, releasing the buzzing tension from the air.

"Come on, kids," Ramirez told the other two younger wardens, rising. "We have to go sit with Uncle Morgan while the other adults have a serious talk." He put a hand on my shoulder on the way past and squeezed. "Hey, bartender! Are those onion rings I smell?"

I waited until they had all settled down at the far end of the bar and Mac began to bring them some food. Then I turned to Luccio and said, "I can’t be a Warden."

She studied me for a second and then asked, in a very precise, very polite voice, "And why not?"

"Because you people have been threatening to kill me for doing something I didn’t do since I was sixteen years old," I said. "You’re all convinced I’m some sort of hideous threat, and every time you get the chance you try to make my life miserable."

Luccio listened attentively and then said, "Yes. And?"

"And?" I said. "I’ve spent my entire adult life with the Wardens looking over my shoulder waiting for a chance to accuse me of things I didn’t do, and trying to set me up and entrap me when you never found me doing anything."

Luccio’s eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"Don’t give me that," I said. "You know damned well that Morgan tried to provoke me into attacking him just before we got the treaty with Winter, so he and the Merlin would have an excuse to throw me to the vampires."

Luccio’s eyes widened, and her voice came out harder. "What?" She shot a look at Morgan, and then back at me. "Are you telling me the truth?"

There was some kind of cadence to the question that her words didn’t usually have, and on pure instinct I reached out with my senses. I could feel a light tension in the air, humming like the space between the tines of a tuning fork.

"Yes," I told her. The humming chime continued unabated. "I’m telling you the truth."

She stared at me for a long second and then settled back onto her chair. The humming tension faded. She folded her hands on the table, frowning down at them. "Then… There were rumors. Of how Morgan behaved around you. But I thought that they were only that."

"They weren’t," I said. "Morgan has threatened and persecuted me every time he got the chance." I clenched my right hand into a fist. "And I have done nothing. I won’t become a part of that, Warden Luccio. So keep the cape. I wouldn’t polish my car with it."