The Dresden Fillies - deviantART

Chapter One
I sat alone in my basement apartment with a bottle of beer, brooding.
An uncharitable asshole like my brother may have called it sulking, but
what the hell does he know? I’m a wizard, damnit, and wizards brood. It’s a
part of the mystic atmosphere shtick.
I was in a bad mood and the world seemed to be conspiring against me to
make it worse. The day was gray and overcast, rain pouring down in a
steady, monotonous stream. I was in between cases at the moment,
mundane or otherwise, and without any private investigating to do I had
nothing to keep me busy. That wouldn’t have been so bad except that the
rent was due next week, and I wouldn’t make it even if I started selling
plasma. And to top off the list my hand was hurting again.
I glanced down at the offending extremity and scowled. Now that I’d given it
my attention, the next ache was even worse. It had been months since the
bandages came off, but I suppose nearly burning your hand to slag wasn’t
something you get used to. The doctors had suggested I amputate it and
get a prosthetic, but I had refused. Vehemently.
Roasted beyond use or not, it was my damn hand, and I was keeping it. At
least the glove covered most of the scarring. I sighed; the only good thing
to come out of that misadventure was finding my brother.
Thomas is a half-brother, actually, and a vampire of the White Court, but
you can’t pick your family. He certainly couldn’t. Thomas’s father had subtly
tried to arrange his son’s death for years, just to ensure there could be no
one to challenge him for control over the White Court.
Now, though, Thomas lived with me. He hadn’t had much choice otherwise.
It made the small apartment seem smaller, but both of us had managed not
to kill each other yet. Given my temper today, though, it was a good thing
he was out. I finished my beer and debated whether or not to get another,
when a slow, measured beat hammered my door.