Bob vs Gard

Dawn was about two minutes off before Bob returned, flowing down the ladder and toward the skull.
Something was wrong.
Bob's manifestation of a candle flame-colored cloud of swirling lights bobbed drunkenly left and right on its way back to the shelf with the skull. Purple globs of glowing plasm dribbled from the cloud in a steady trail, striking the floor, where they winked out into blobs of transparent goo. The cloud flowed into the skull, and after a moment, faint violet flames appeared in the skull's empty eye sockets.
"Ow," Bob said, his voice tired.
"Hell's bells," I muttered. "Bob, you all right?"
"No. "
Bob? Monosyllabic? Crap. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"No," Bob said, faintly. "Rest. "
“But- "
"Report," Bob said. "Have to. "
Right. He'd been sent out on a mission and he was feeling pressured to finish it. "What happened?"
"Wards," Bob said. "Marcone's. "
I felt my mouth fall open. "What?"
"Wards," Bob repeated.
I sat down on my stool. "How the hell did Marcone get wards?"
Bob's tone became a shade contemptuous. "Magic?"
The insult relieved me a little. If he was able to be a wiseass he'd probably be okay. "Could you tell who did the wards?"
"No. Too good. "
Damn. A spell had to get up pretty early in the morning to get around Bob. Maybe he'd been hurt worse than I thought. "What about Ortega?"
"Rothchild," Bob said. "Half a dozen vamps with him. Maybe a dozen mortals. "
Bob's eyelights flickered and guttered. I couldn't risk losing Bob by pushing him too hard-and spirit or not, he wasn't immortal. He wasn't afraid of bullets or knives, but there were things that could kill him. "Good enough for now," I said. "Tell me the rest later. Get some sleep. "
Bob's eyelights flickered out without another word.

Death Masks Chapter 9, Page 94-95


"Mister Dresden, Miss Rodriguez, I believe you both know Mister Hendricks. And this is Miss Gard. "
"Ah," I said. "She's an employee, I take it?"
Miss Gard smiled. Professional smiles all around tonight, it would seem. "I'm from the Monoc Foundation," she said. "I'm a consultant. "
"Regarding what, one wonders," said Susan. She definitely had the sharpest smile of those present.
"Security," Gard said, unruffled. She focused on me. "I help make sure that thieves, spies, and poor wandering spirits don't wind up all over the lawn. "
And I got it. Whoever Miss Gard was, it seemed fairly likely that she was responsible for the wards that had torn Bob up so badly. My head of righteous fury died out, replaced by caution. Marcone had been concerned about my talents. He'd started taking steps to balance things, and Marcone wasn't one to show his hand early, which meant that he was already prepared for trouble of one kind or another with me. He was ready to fight me.

Death Masks Chapter 19, Page 173