"Laura Anne Gilman - Retrievers 04 - Burning Bridges" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gilman Laura Anne)

P.B. snorted, a wet, vaguely disgusting noise his flattened snout of a nose seemed designed to make.
тАЬThatтАЩs dedication. You get paid for any of that time?тАЭ

тАЬFive years ago, yeah,тАЭ It wasnтАЩt always about money. A lot of the time, it was about reputation. The
Wren never gave up. Never left a job unfinished. No matter what.

Okay, maybe some of it was about money. Her mother had spent most of her life worrying about
money: how much, never enough. Having money-savvy Sergei Didier become her manager when she
was a teenager had given Wren the opportunityтАФand the educationтАФshe needed to change that. Over
the years, her reputationтАФand her feesтАФhad grown. If she was careful, and kept working, her savings
would be enough to buy her apartment when it finallyтАФinevitablyтАФwent co-op. More, Wren was now in
the position of being able to have ego spur her to do things, rather than need.

Financial need, anyway.

The demon and the human were occupying the spare bedroom/library of WrenтАЩs East Village apartment,
surrounded by three stacks of books, a scattering of papers, and the remains of two pizzas. The air was
heavy with the scent of pepperoni, cheese, and a dry heat coming up through the buildingтАЩs ancient
radiators, making her sinuses itch.

Ego had its own need in it, too. The bansidheтАФOld SallyтАФwas the one job Wren hadnтАЩt been able to
close. Yet. Her clientsтАФdescendants of the original ownerтАФhad, she suspected, long since written off
their initial deposit, but she couldnтАЩt let go.

No, the whereabouts of one taxidermied warhorse, no matter that it was a portent of doom, didnтАЩt really
matter a damn to her. But professional pride was involved. With her last dying breath, if need be, she
was going to bring that damn sawdust-stuffed equine doomsayer back in. Someday. When everything
else got settled.

The thought made her laugh, bitterly. TheCosa was in the middle of a battle for survival against enemies
it hadnтАЩt been able to identify, who were determined to wipe them out of the city. Her partnerтАЩs former
employers had screwed them over and left them to hang. The Mage Council was playing their usual
we-know-nothing, did-nothing game with the rest of theCosa . All in all, тАЬsettledтАЭ wasnтАЩt something Wren
expected to see anytime soon.

Although these past few weeks of the new year had been oddly if pleasantly calm: nobody had set a
psi-bomb off anywhere near her; nobody had tried to bribe, threaten, hijack or otherwise annoy her or
any of her friends; Sergei was off on a legitimate business trip for his gallery; and she was actually
catching up on her filing, bill-paying, and her exercise routine. The entire city seemed to have come to a
pause.
Hell, the entire city had come to a pause, thanks to the weather.

тАЬItтАЩs still snowing.тАЭ P.B. had given up staring at her, now looking out the window, one white-furred,
black-clawed paw pushing aside the dark green drape. His short muzzle, whichтАФalong with the plush
white fur and rounded bear-like earsтАФhad been the cause of his nickname of тАЬPolar Bear,тАЭ pressed up
against the glass, his breath causing the window to fog over.

тАЬItтАЩs been snowing for the past seven hours,тАЭ Wren said as patiently as she could manage. тАЬThis isnтАЩt a
news flash.тАЭ After two months of winter, snow of any sort wasnтАЩt news.