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The Law (The Dresden Files #17.4)(9)

Author:Jim Butcher

“If at first you don’t succeed,” Bob said cheerfully, “you probably needed a better plan to begin with.”

I glowered at the skull and said, “Have Gary get me the information.”

“Will do, O mighty wizard!” Bob replied.

I grunted, grabbed my coat, and thumped up the stepladder out of my lab, to go see if I could get some sense through Tripp’s thick skull.

Chapter Five

I went to Tripp Gregory’s place after dark and got there just as a young woman driving herself arrived, dressed provocatively, went to the door and was let inside. The guy had another woman over? Evidently, he wasn’t the sort to spend money where he needed to, as much as where he wanted to. How the hell was he affording an attorney in the first place?

I squinted. I should stop thinking of Tripp as if he was a regular guy. He was a pimp. If he operated like some of them did, the girl worked for him. He’d be having her over to service him and pay him his share of her income. Hell’s bells. He would just get stronger the more he was allowed to operate. This guy was just as much a vampire as the ones I had fought over the course of my career, only pettier and more disgusting.

And yet… ultimately I was bluffing, here. I wasn’t willing to kill him or mutilate him, not with my magic and not with my hands, either. He was scum, but he wasn’t being violent, and he was still human. Not only did I not dare to violate the First Law of Magic now that I wasn’t a member of the Council anymore, I didn’t want to. If I tried to use my Power to do that when I didn’t believe in it, it wouldn’t work—the spell would simply fail.

And that was a non-fallacious slippery slope. A critical component of working magic was believing that it would and should work. Dry fire your magical abilities one too many times, and maybe enough doubt would creep in to sabotage them altogether, or at least to make it an uphill battle to access your talent at all.

Well. Maybe Tripp was dumb enough to be easily impressed.

I waited, and about forty five minutes later, the young woman left. A few minutes after that, Tripp Gregory emerged jauntily from his home, whistling, car keys in hand. He had to walk about half a block to his car. I murmured a word and threw up enough of a veil around me to make sure he wouldn’t see me approaching, and cat-footed my way after him.

I waited until he lifted his key fob, then pointed my finger at a new BMW, focused my will into the simplest spell a wizard can do, and murmured, “Hexus.”

Random magical energy lashed out, a power that would cause absolute havoc to modern electronics. But I hadn’t counted on my resentment for the jerk adding a little more oomph to the spell. Not only did it scramble the fob, but the wave of power washed over his new car too, and it started up with a roar, the high beams and emergency lights came on, the trunk flew open, the windows all rolled down, and the car alarm started wailing.

Tripp blinked at the fob and then at the car, and tried pushing the button again, right about the same time the hex ran its course, and sparks started flying from the fob and the car alike, before everything went dead.

“Goddamned Japanese junk!” Tripp snarled.

Which… said so much about him.

I caught him by the back of his sports jacket and half-threw him onto the hood of his car, letting the veil fade out as I did, so that as he whirled with a cry, I emerged from a blur of shadowy color, looming over him.

He went for his revolver.

I slammed my staff onto the street, and an effort of will caused the runes along its length to blaze with green-gold power. I pointed my finger again and snarled, “Forzare!” Invisible force struck against his gun hand and sent the revolver tumbling out of his grasp and into the street.

He tried to get his feet back to the ground, and I kicked him lightly in the chest, pushing him back onto the car’s hood. I lifted my right hand into a claw shape, directed my will, and hissed, “Infusiarus!”

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