The Law (The Dresden Files #17.4)(10)

She turned and went deeper into the office. It didn’t have windows, and the interior featured all deep reds and browns, thick carpet, dark-stained wood, bookshelves lined with law texts, a Victorian grandfather clock of mahogany, and a suit of gothic armor with what looked like musket-ball dents in the breastplate. Ms. Lapland walked three steps in front of me with a lot of hip action and made it look excellent. She led me through the receptionist’s area, down a short hallway, ending at an office that matched the rest of the place.

A tall, lean man sat behind a desk facing the door of the office. He wore a black suit that matched his coal-black hair, swept straight back from his face, and an emerald-green tie that matched his emerald-green eyes. He sat with his fingers steepled, his elbows resting on the edge of his desk, and those brilliant eyes studied me unblinkingly as I approached.

Ms. Lapland dropped to her knees on the carpet in front of his desk and bowed her head. “Sir. The wizard Harry Dresden.”

“Thank you, Ms. Lapland,” he said.

“May I destroy him for you, sir?” she asked, her eyes on the ground.

“We’ll see,” he said.

She made a disappointed, sexually frustrated noise. “He’s so arrogant. It drips from him.”

“Don’t make me jealous, dear,” the man said, smiling faintly at her. “Some privacy, if you please.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. She rose, gave me a look that made me wonder if she wanted to jump my bones or icepick me to death, or both, and silently left the office, shutting the door behind her.

“Talvi Inverno?” I asked.

“That is the name I use in Chicago,” he said.

“Should I use your actual moniker?”

“I don’t have a name, actually,” he said. “Something I suppose I can thank my mother for. It makes it considerably harder for a wizard to lock onto me.” He rose and crossed to a sideboard. “Drink?”

“It’s a little early for me. I’m in recovery,” I said.

He poured what looked like a few fingers of brandy from a snifter into a crystal tumbler. “From what?”

“Kicking the crap out of a Titan,” I said.

He smiled mirthlessly. “So I’ve heard.” He took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes studying me unblinkingly the whole while. “What brings you to my office today, Mister Dresden?”

I studied him for a moment, wizard’s senses casting out, and said, “You’re part of the Winter Court.”

He swallowed, his rich voice unphased by the drink. “Yes. By adoption, as it were. Queen Mab saw fit to offer me sanctuary decades ago.”

“Then you know who and what I am.”

“I do.”

“You’re representing a slimy little pimp named Tripp Gregory,” I said. “I’d like you to stop doing that.”

His raven-dark eyebrows climbed. “Why would I?”

“Because this is a really nice office,” I said. “And if you don’t, it might not be for very long.”

He studied me for a moment and then shrugged a shoulder. “Do as you see fit, I suppose,” he said. “But I have an absolute obligation to a certain individual to represent Mr. Gregory in his upcoming legal efforts. Nothing you do or say will change that.”

I pursed my lips. “Obligation. Of the Fae sort.”

“As you have occasionally experienced, I believe,” he said, “as… what shall we call it, an officer of Winter? The scales need to remain balanced—which is why beings of Winter serve so ably in the justice system.”

“Is that what you think you’re doing?” I asked. “Serving up justice?”

He shrugged that shoulder again. “Or attempting to do so. Just as you seem to be doing.”

“By suing a tutoring company so that a slimeball pimp can make a quick buck?”

“I’m not suing anyone at all. Merely providing legal counsel for the being of free will who is doing so. And may I point out, I didn’t design your justice system, Mister Dresden,” Inverno said. “I am merely operating according to its rules—which are, at times, quite amusing.”

Something unpleasant gleamed far back in those green eyes and I suddenly felt extremely wary.

I leaned on my staff and eyed him. “I still need you to back off.”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that. I have an obligation.”

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s try it from a different perspective. What would I need to do to get you to back off?”

“I would need to be released from my obligation,” he said calmly. “Either by Queen Mab or by my principal.”

I grunted. “And there’s no other way?”

“None whatsoever, I’m afraid.”

“Suppose I kill you,” I said.

He showed me very white teeth. “Suppose you can’t.”

“I’m starting to think there aren’t many beings around whose day I can’t ruin,” I said philosophically. “Maybe I start ruining yours and see where it takes me.”

“Nowhere good,” he assured me. “I would then be free to defend myself against you, despite your office within Winter.”

“There aren’t all that many beings in Winter who rattle me, these days.”