Drink Deep (Chicagoland Vampires 5)

I nodded. "I understand."

"Ethan would have been proud of you today, Merit. I am proud of you today, as are the other vampires of this House. You played Cabot's game the only respectable way it could have been played, even if the outcome was predetermined."

"The result's the same, though. The House is left without a Sentinel."

Malik smiled slyly. "The forfeit extended only to your current position. You cannot stand Sentinel, at least not for the time being. But he placed no restrictions on your service as a guard."

Although exhaustion was beginning to wear me down, I managed a smile. "Very creative, Liege."

"I have my moments."

I hobbled back to my room, nearly wiped unconscious by the sun, and into the cool, crisp sheets and comforting dark that awaited me there. I wasn't too exhausted to cry when my head hit the pil ow, pent up rage and frustration and grief escaping now that I'd managed to finish the testing.

Grief, because in the matter of an evening I'd lost my connections to Ethan and the House: the bond that we'd shared when he named me Sentinel and the medal I'd worn as a symbol of my oaths.

I'd stil stand guard for the House, and there was no denying the importance of that role. But it felt like another little bit of Ethan had been torn away.

And that hurt as much as anything else.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A HOUSE DIVIDED

I woke up from a thankful y dreamless sleep in the same dark mood I'd been in when I'd fal en unconscious some hours ago. I considered playing sick and hiding in bed under the covers al day, but that wasn't going to solve my problems or the city's.

When I was up and showered, I also considered cal ing Mal ory. I had no doubt she was stressed about exams, but I wasn't sure if letting her hermit while she studied was the best thing to do. On the other hand, she specifical y told me not to bother her until she was done with exams.

That stil stung.

Sure, it wasn't the first time we'd had a disagreement.

There'd been a boy she dated who I'd thought was obnoxious, and she tended to give my parents more credit than I did. We'd grown apart when I'd been made a vampire and hadn't adjusted graceful y to my new life. Her apprenticeship training in Schaumburg hadn't done much for our social schedule.

But we'd always managed to get through. I could only hope this time was no different, that even with magic and exams between us, we'd manage to find each other again.

After tossing the phone in my hands for a few minutes, I decided not to cal . If she real y needed space, I'd give it to her. God knows she'd have done the same thing for me.

But while she could avoid me, Catcher couldn't. I dialed up his cel phone and caught him in the car.

"On the way to your grandfather's house," he said.

"Stil officing unofficial y?"

"Unless we hear something different from the city, which seems extraordinarily unlikely, 'unofficial' is our permanent gig. Unfortunately," he added as a horn honked in the background, "traffic to your grandfather's is much worse than to the office. It takes me twice as long to get there."

"Isn't there an El stop by his house?"

"I prefer my car," he flatly said. "What's happening at Cadogan House tonight?"

"Wel , due to unfortunate events, I'm no longer standing Sentinel." I fil ed him in on Frank's quality testing and my forced failure.

"Classy," he said. "Makes Darius West look like a total peach."

"I wouldn't go quite that far, but you've got something there. Have you had a chance to talk to Simon?"

"I have. He's as mystified as we are. He says he's heard nothing about the Maleficium and that it's safe and sound in Nebraska. Out of an abundance of caution, the Order's established a committee to look into things, and they're on their way. He also thinks Tate's bluffing, and he put some stock into your lemon and sugar theory. He says the new 'forensic magic' recognizes trace magical evidence like odor."

Catcher's tone screamed "sarcastic," but there was also a hint of "jealous" in there. Catcher hadn't been a member of the Order for some time, so it stood to reason he wouldn't be up to date on al the latest information and techniques. He clearly had unresolved issues about the Order. Maybe buried beneath his irritation that Mal ory was learning about magic from Simon was a little magical jealousy.

"How long until Mal's done with exams?"

"Couple of days, but the schedule is fluid. Simon's apparently trying to keep her on her toes. Listen, I'm just pul ing into the driveway. I'l cal you if there's news."

"Appreciate it," I said, and he hung up. I had no doubt I'd hear from him again. If I'd learned anything in my months as a vampire, it was that drama was in unlimited supply.

I found a stack of library books outside my door again, al referencing unexplained historical events. The librarian seemed to think Amelia Earhart's disappearance and the Bermuda Triangle were related to our sky and water problems. I was sitting on the floor, waist-deep in magical conspiracy theories, when my phone rang.

Saved by the bell, I thought, and pul ed it out. When I saw Jonah's number on the screen, I popped it open.

"Hi," I careful y said, not sure of his mood since we hadn't spoken since the kiss - and nervous that he was cal ing to relay another crisis. I real y could use a break.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Reading. What are you doing?"

"I'm at Benson's. Get your ass down here and buy me a drink."

Benson's was the Grey House bar, located across the street from Wrigley Field.

"I'm not going to buy you a drink."

"I'm pretty sure I remember you owing me a drink.

Especial y after you total y denied me when I poured out my heart to you."

I couldn't help but smile, and appreciated that he'd broken the ice. "I don't recal it happening that way."

"Then you would be incorrect."

"I'm pretty sure you're hal ucinating," I said, but glanced down at the books and decided I couldn't read any more crazy theories tonight. I needed a change of scenery, even if that change started with my buying an apologetic round for my partner.

"I'l be there in five," I told him, then flipped the phone closed and slid it back into my pocket. I grabbed my jacket, gave Keley a heads-up, and headed out.

Benson's was housed in a narrow building that faced the back of Wrigley Field. Stadium seats had been instal ed on the roof so Cubs fans without tickets could get a view of the action from the even-fro ancheaper seats. The narrow bar was also crammed with as many tables as the owners could fit. This was prime Cubs' rooting territory, after all , and folks who couldn't fit into Wrigley stil wanted to be as close to the action as possible. The bar could get stuffy on game days, but there was definitely something to be said for squeezing into a bar with close friends (and total strangers) to root for the Cubbies. Benson's even had a signature Cubs-related drink - a shot layered with blue and red booze. It tasted like cough syrup, but we drank it for the color - not the taste.