The Dresden Files Collection 1-6 (The Dresden Files Box-Set)
Jim Butcher
Language: English
Pages: 336
ISBN: B004GB1I3C
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
More information to be announced soon on this forthcoming title from Penguin USA.
Full Fathom Five (Craft Sequence, Book 3)
Blood Wolf (Changeling, Book 3)
Darker Angels (Black Sun's Daughter Book 2)
Raising Innocence (Rylee Adamson, Book 3)
The Coldest War (The Milkweed Triptych, Book 2)
thinking, chemically unavoidable. I closed my eyes and breathed, and tried to sort through things. Lydia had fled the shelter of the church, and Father Forthill’s protection. Why? I thought back, over the details of everything I knew about her. Her sunken eyes. The tingle of touching her aura. Had her hands been shaking, just a little? I think they had, in retrospect. I thought of what I had seen of her in the van, of the bracelet on her wrist. Her beating pulse. Had it been slow? I’d thought
of medium height stumbled into the room. He wore a leather jacket, jeans, tennis shoes, and a Cubs ball cap. He carried a rifle case made of black plastic, and he smelled of sweat and feminine perfume. “You,” I snarled. I grabbed the man’s shoulder before he could get his balance and spun his shoulders hard, sending him back against the wall. I drove my fist hard at his mouth, felt the bright smack-thud of impact on my knuckles. I grabbed the front of his jacket in both hands, and with a snarl
me the vial. I unstoppered it and drank. The liquid within tasted gritty, a little bitter. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, after swallowing it down. “Harry,” Michael said, watching Lea. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?” “If I get to the hospital soon,” I said. “I’ve got somewhere between six and eighteen hours. Maybe a little longer. I drank all that pink stuff before we left to line my stomach. It might slow down the rate of digestion on the mushroom, give the extract a chance to
was neither helpful nor reassuring. “I’m not worried,” I said. “Not one bit.” Mister’s tail twitched. I shook my head, got my stuff together, and headed out to investigate the lead at the harbor. Chapter Twelve When I first came to Chicago I thought of a harbor as a giant bowl of ocean with ships and boats in the foreground and the faded outline of the buildings on the far side in the background. I had always imagined political subversives dressed up as tribal natives and a huge hit
throat, then wrist, and shook his head. “Lawrence, Lawrence. I would have paid you twice what they offered you, if you’d come to me with it. You never were very smart, were you?” Then, his face showing no more emotion than it had the entire evening, Marcone peeled back Gimpy Lawrence’s left sleeve, and studied the man’s wrist. He frowned, and lowered the arm again, his expression pensive. “It would seem, Mr. Dresden,” he said, “that we have a common enemy.” He turned to focus his gaze on me.
