Twice Bitten (Chicagoland Vampires 3)

"Yeah. But that doesn't mean he wasn't involved. He had the opportunity - it was his bike they found.

And he may have had motive, too."

"Such as?"

"Installing someone else in Gabriel's seat. Maybe attempting a consolidation of the Packs. It wouldn't be the first time. Or maybe the simplest possibility

- scaring everybody back to Aurora."

"Something else is weird, you know."

"What?"

"The tip," I said. "Think about it - someone learned Gabriel was in trouble, and they have the forethought to call you, but they use a device to disguise their voice?"

"Maybe they were afraid of being caught."

"By calling an anonymous tip line?"

"If you have the information, you're probably close enough to the crime to be part of it."

"Or maybe they knew you'd recognize their voice."

We both considered that quietly for a moment. "I think it would be better if you didn't tell them the tip came from me," he finally said. I knew why he wanted to remain anonymous - the Brecks were still on the outs with the Pack. They were trying to get back in, certainly, but learning that Nick was the information source about a hit was only going to make Gabe more suspicious. On the other hand, "I'm a vampire, Nick. If someone has information like that, why are they going to tell me?"

"Because you're the Ponytailed Avenger."

"I'm hardly capable of avenging anyone. And as you pointed out, I'm a vampire. It's not like my helping Berna brought everyone into the vampire camp." I blew out a breath. "I'll tell Gabe it was anonymous.

But if Ethan asks, I'm not going to lie to him."

Nick was quiet for a moment. "Deal," he finally said.

"Are you coming tonight?"

"We aren't. We've given proxies to other members of the Pack - it's a symbolic thing, another way to make reparations."

"Well, then I suppose I'll see you later. Or I won't," I allowed, in case the vote necessitated a shifter retreat.

"Good luck," he said solemnly, and the line went dead.

Information in hand, I trotted back to the chapel to find Ethan. There were more shifters in the pews now, and a few milling about with sound equipment and clipboards. Like the American Pack leaders, they were all men, except for Fallon Keene, who stood at the front of the chapel in a snug, long-sleeved black shirt, a short, pleated black skirt, and knee-high military-style boots, her suspicious gaze on the congregation. I found Ethan in the back of the room with Gabriel, the two of them alone in a corner, standing side by side, their gazes on the crowd. They both looked up as my boot heels clacked against the stone floors.

Sentinel? Ethan silently asked.

I didn't answer; this one needed to be spilled to both of them.

I decided it was best to stick as close to the truth as possible. "I got a call," I said when I reached them.

"There was no caller ID, and the caller used one of those voice-disguising deals." I looked at Gabriel.

"He said there was a contract hit on you, and it was supposed to go down tonight." He closed his eyes for a moment. "It's not that I'm surprised, but that's damned inconvenient timing.

Violence begets violence, and I don't want more trouble because someone thinks they can best the Apex. I don't want that spilling out and affecting the vote. The Pack needs to be here. The decision needs to be made - and made by them."

Ethan frowned, that familiar line of worry between his eyes. "What, precisely, did the caller say?"

"Just what I said - that there's a hit on Gabriel, and that the hit's going down tonight. Imminent," I added. "I think he said 'imminent.' "

"I can't - won't cancel ConPack. The Packs are coming here tonight with shit on their minds. We can't just dismiss that - just send all that pent-up energy back into the universe with no outlet. That would be a very bad idea for the Packs and the city."

Given the earnestness of his voice, and the electric buzz that was beginning to stir in the chapel as the audience began to grow, I took him at his word. We didn't need a few hundred frustrated shifters running around Chicago.

"We understand your position," Ethan said, "and we commend your devotion to your people. But the continuity of the convention isn't the only issue. They take you out, and they disrupt the balance of power. No - completely alter the balance of power. Those implications are equally bad." If Ethan was being that frank, I guessed he and Gabriel had worked through any lingering tension.

"What do you propose?" Gabriel said.

"Given our limited amount of time, as many precautions as we can take," Ethan said. "Not to be morbid, but if they try a hit, any thoughts on likely scenarios?"

"The debate can get rowdy. It's not impossible they'd try to take advantage of that chaos, make a move in the middle of it."

"Then we'll stick by you when the convocation begins. We know you're strong, but you aren't immortal.

As Merit has demonstrated, we can take hits you can't."

"I'm not sure insulting me is the way to go here," Gabriel muttered.

"You know what I meant," Ethan said. "Who in the sanctuary do you trust?" Gabriel scanned the crowd for a moment. "Fallon. I trust Fallon."

"Even though she's next in line for the Pack behind you?" Ever so slowly, Gabriel turned his head toward me, his gaze suddenly menacing. "Are you accusing Fallon of something, Sentinel?" Magic - astringent and sharp - electrified the air.

I kept my eyes on Gabriel, my expression neutral, as if I were staring down an attacking dog. "I'm accusing no one. I am, however, playing devil's advocate for the purpose of ensuring your safety. Tonight that's my job."

It took a few seconds for the magic to dissipate, but he finally nodded.

Ethan put a hand at my back. "We're going to take a walk around the church, get a sense for whether anything is out of the ordinary. We'll talk to Fallon on the way out. Stay within her line of sight while we're gone."

"Is he always this bossy, Sentinel?"

"You have no idea."

"Be that as it may," Ethan said, "do us a solid and keep yourself alive for the time being." At Gabriel's nod, we walked toward Fallon's corner.

"Sometimes," Ethan whispered as we moved, "the work of protecting others is in convincing them they need protection in the first place."

CHAPYER SEVENTEEN

POLITICAL ANIMALS

Fallon didn't look in our direction as we approached, but from the set of her shoulders and scanning gaze, I had no doubt she knew exactly where we were. We stayed at her side, ensuring she had a clear view across the sanctuary.