Files on wardens

There was a whirring sound, and one of the back windows of the Rolls slid down. I couldn't see much of anyone inside, but I heard a velvet-soft woman's laugh saunter out of the night. "You see, George. I told you."
The bodyguard grimaced and looked around. "They've done something to the gate. It's open. You're exposed here, ma'am."
"If assassination was their intention," the woman replied, "believe me when I say that Dresden could already have done it, and I feel confident that his companion, Mr. Ramirez, could have managed the same."
Ramirez stiffened a little and muttered between clenched teeth, "How does she know me?"
"Ain't many people ride zombie dinosaurs and make regional commander in the Wardens before they turn twenty-five," I replied. "Betcha she's got files on most of the Wardens still alive."
"And some of the trainees," agreed the woman's voice. "George, if you please."
The bodyguard gave us a flat, measuring look, and then opened the door of the car, one hand resting quite openly on the butt of the pistol hanging under one arm.
The mistress of the White Court stepped forth from the Rolls-Royce.


White Night Chapter 35, Page 360