He didn't answer. Right about the time I finished my sandwich, Shiro said, "You are looking for the Shroud."

"That's confidential," I said.

"If you say so," he said, using my own inflection on the words. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you looking for it?" he asked, chewing.

"If I am-and I'm not saying that I am-I'm doing it because I've been hired to look for it."

"Your job," he said.

"Yeah."

"You do it for money," he said.

"Yeah."

"Hmph," he said, and pushed his glasses up with his pinky. "Do you love money then, Mister Dresden?"

I picked up a napkin from one side of the platter, and wiped my mouth. "I used to think I loved it. But now I realize that it's just dependency."

Shiro let out an explosive bark of laughter, and rose, chortling. "Sandwich okay?"

"Super."

Michael came in a few minutes later, his face troubled. There wasn't a clock in the room, but it had to have been well after midnight. I supposed if I had called Charity Carpenter that late, I'd be troubled after the conversation, too. She was ferocious where her husband's safety was concerned-especially when she heard that I was around. Okay, admittedly Michael had gotten pretty thoroughly battered whenever he came along on a case with me, but all the same I didn't think it was fair of her. It wasn't like I did it on purpose.

"Charity wasn't happy?" I asked.

Michael shook his head. "She's worried. Is there a sandwich left?"

There were a couple. Michael took one and I took a second one, just to keep him company. While we ate, Shiro got out his sword and a cleaning kit, and started wiping down the blade with a soft cloth and some kind of oil.

"Harry," Michael said finally. "I have to ask you for something. It's very difficult. And it's something that under normal circumstances I wouldn't even consider doing."

"Name it," I said between chews. At the time, I meant it literally. Michael had risked his life for me more than once. His family had been endangered the last time around, and I knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't ask something unreasonable. "Just name it. I owe you."

Michael nodded. Then looked at me steadily and said, "Get out of this business, Harry. Get out of town for a few days. Or stay home. But get out of it, please."

I blinked at him. "You mean, you don't want my help?"

"I want your safety," Michael said. "You are in great danger."

"You're kidding me," I said. "Michael, I know how to handle myself. You should know that by now."

"Handle yourself," Michael said. "Like you did tonight? Harry, if we hadn't been there-"