Drink Deep (Chicagoland Vampires 5)

I closed my eyes in relief. The sky was back to normal, and that probably meant the lake and river were, as wel .

If Claudia and Catcher had been right - that the magic was elemental and fol owing a kind of pattern - the reprieve would be only temporary. We'd seen air and water. Earth and fire couldn't be far behind. But even a temporary reprieve would take some of the heat off us.

I returned to my room. With Tate on my agenda, and a message from Catcher confirming our second meeting, I showered and dressed in my leathers. I wasn't trying to impress Tate with my business acumen tonight; this was about fixing supernatural problems. The bit of worry wood, of course, was back in my pocket.

Jonah, on the other hand, hadn't cal ed. That bothered me a little. I hoped he wasn't going to avoid me because I'd rebuffed him. We were a green team, but a good one. And while I was beginning to learn that I could stand Sentinel on my own, I'd have much rather done it with a partner.

Thinking misery loved company, I dialed up Mal ory. It took five rings before she answered, and even then she wasn't thril ed about it.

"Kind of in the middle of something."

"Then don't answer the phone next time," I joked, but the comment stil stung.

"Sorry," she said, and it sounded like she meant it. "I'm just - every exam gets a little worse, you know? And then I'm crazy tired, and I'm nearing the end of my rope. I just want this entire process to be over. I don't even care if I pass. I just want it done."

I could hear the exhaustion in her voice, and in the speed of her words. It wouldn't surprise me to learn she'd been downing energy drinks.

"I hear you," I said. "I've got an errand to run, but would you be up for a breather afterward?"

"I start my next exam in a few minutes."

"That sucks."

"Tel me about it. And to add insult to injury, Catcher's being a gigantic pain in the ass right now. I don't think he has any idea of the stress I'm going through."

Her voice was testy, and I wondered if any of us knew the stress she was going through. Other than Simon, who seemed to be directing it.

And while I had her on the phone . . . "Hey, I know you're in a hurry, but is there anything you can tel me about what's going on in the city right now with the lake and sky? I understand it's magic tied to the four elements - water, air, earth, and fire. Is that anything you've learned about?"

Her response was fast and furious. "Jesus, Merit. How many times nowmanwhat's g have you wondered if the city's problems come back to sorcerers? You did it with the drugs, as wel ."

"I wonder about a lot of things," I said, reminding myself of the stress she was under. "It's my job to wonder about the possibilities, and then to figure out the truth."

"Oh, so we're possibilities?"

I had no idea why we were arguing. I certainly hadn't accused her of anything. Was she lashing out at me because she'd thought the same thing, or because she was stressed?

"It's not like I'm out there just randomly making mischief,"

she said, before I could respond. "Or researching random pieces of magic. I'm taking exams, Merit."

Since when was city trauma a random piece of magic?

The comment was irritating, but I stayed calm. "I know you are. I'm not accusing you of anything. But there's some kind of magic at work here that I don't understand. I just thought maybe you would."

"You know what I know about, Merit? I know about sigils and cal efixes and magical algorithms and seeding auras.

That's what I know about."

"You know what?" I told her, forcing myself to remain calm. "I'm going to let you go so you can get back to studying. Okay?"

"Maybe that's a good idea. And maybe you should hold off on the phone cal s and the accusations until my exams are done."

The phone went dead, leaving me wild-eyed and flustered and completely at a loss for words.

Lindsey picked that moment to pop her head into my room. "Breakfast?"

I held up the phone. "Mal ory just hung up on me!"

Lindsey frowned, stepped inside, and shut the door behind her. "What did you do?"

"Nothing. I mean, I did ask her if she knew anything about the lake and the sky, but nothing other than that."

Lindsey whistled. "Way to play it smooth."

"It was a legitimate question. And she's one of only three people in town who would know."

"True. I real y don't have a dog in this fight. I just like not being the one getting into relationship trouble for once."

That comment suggested it was going to be fol owed by details I didn't want to hear, but it also sounded like a cry for help. "What did you do?"

She didn't waste any time. "Long story short: relationships are hard, I don't fight fair, and I am the messiest person he knows."

I grimaced - and agreed with him about the first and last things. Her room was a riot of stuff, and not in a stuff-tidily-arranged-in-those-identical-wicker-baskets-people-put-on-bookshelves way. "You don't fight fair?"

Her shoulders slumped. "I might make references to breaking up when we fight?"

"Yikes."

"Yeah. It's just - I've never real y done this for real, you know? Not a relationship this serious. Sometimes I just feel like there's al this fear bottled up, and it has to go somewhere. I convince myself this isn't going to last."

"He loves you."

"I know. But he might stop someday. And someday, he might be gone, and then where am I? I'm alam izel wrapped up in a boy, and I can't untangle myself."

She fel back on the bed. "I'm tired, I'm overworked, I'm being forcibly underfed, I'm stressed, and I have a boyfriend

-  a boyfriend , Merit - with his own issues, and the only thing I want to do is gorge on ice cream. And let's face it -

the only problem that's going to solve is the 'hey, my pants are too loose!' problem. And that's not a problem I have right now."

She stood up and pooched out her bel y. Her tiny it'sreal y-just-skin bel y.

"Real y?" I asked her, my voice dry as toast.

"It's just - I never used to be this girl. I was Lindsey, Cadogan House guard and al -around hot shit. I was on the cover of the Chicago Voice Weekly for Christ's sake. I knew I looked good. And now I'm worrying about how my hair looks? And whether these jeans look fan-fucking-tastic."

"They real y do."

"They should. They cost two hundred bucks."

"For jeans?"

"They're butt-lifting." To prove the point, she turned and gave me a pinup-worthy pose.