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Howling For You (Chicagoland Vampires 8.5)

Page 7

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“Since you’re the Apex of the Pack and you moved the crown up here,” Jeff countered. “It’s important.”

Gabe’s magic spiked. “I’m well aware of the importance of the goddamned crown. I don’t need the reminder.”

Wisely, Jeff bit back a response.

Eli walked into the room, two steaming cups of coffee in hand. I held out hope one of them was for me, and thanked my lucky stars when he handed it over.

The first sip was hot, full-bodied, intoxicating. I gave him an appreciative nod. Eli and I were closest in age, and we’d spent more time together than probably anyone else in the family. He knew about my coffee obsession, and enabled it. Which made me love him more.

“When was it taken?” Ben asked.

Jeff checked his phone. “Forty-two minutes ago.”

Christopher rubbed his face. “Five-thirty in the damn morning? Who wakes up to steal a crown at five-thirty in the damn morning?”

Ben made a sarcastic sound. “Someone who wants a crown and doesn’t want to get caught.”

“Suspect list?” Eli asked.

“Everyone from Louisiana to Minnesota who wants the damn thing?” Christopher suggested.

“Only one of those people was here yesterday.”

We all looked back at Jeff, who stared back at me. Angry. Betrayed. I guess he’d taken it personally after all.

My stomach curled from the hurt in his eyes.

I tore my gaze away and looked at Gabriel. “He means Patrick.”

Is that why Patrick had come here? Not to meet me, but to get closer to the crown? He wouldn’t have been the first potential mate with an agenda.

“He was here to meet Fallon,” Ben offered, stepping closer to me as if that could protect me from the pain.

Jeff looked at Gabriel. “He was here because he wants to get closer to the crown. And there are two ways to do that.”

Get the crown—or get the girl?

Gabriel turned back to him, arms crossed and angry magic radiating from his body. “Is there something you’d like to get off your mind, whelp?”

Magic rose between them, furious and hot, spinning around the room like a dervish. Both of them angry, both of them worried. Neither of them about to admit it aloud.

The last thing we needed was an intra-Pack dispute. We had bigger things to worry about.

Eli stepped between them, beating me to it. “Let’s all take a breath. The Yorks are good people, quality people. Patrick didn’t even want to look at the crown yesterday. He seemed plenty sincere about that.”

“So he knows how to act,” Christopher said. He looked at me. “You were with him. What do you think?”

All eyes turned to me, including two blue ones that didn’t look especially pleased about it.

“I don’t know.” I pushed my hair behind my ears and caught Jeff’s glance at the T-shirt I’d forgotten I’d been wearing.

I felt his rush of magic—possessive and pleased. He didn’t comment; but he didn’t need to. I’d slept in his shirt. Didn’t that say enough?

But this was not the time, so I pushed it back. “He seemed less interested in the crown than my feelings about it,” I said. “But who knows?”

Jeff pulled a tablet from his pocket, began typing on the screen. He always had a gadget in hand, and this small and sleek rectangle was his new baby. “I’m going to check the camera.”

“There’s a camera?” Eli asked.

“It’s part of my standard security package,” Jeff said, eyes on the tablet.

We stood silently while he played with the camera interface. “Here we go,” Jeff said after a moment, and we circled around him.

The image on the tablet was distorted by the fish-eye lens, which had been mounted above the door, but there was no mistaking the man on the screen: Patrick York walked to the front door and slipped inside. Twelve minutes later, he walked out again.

I felt sick. Nauseated at the betrayal, humiliated at the ruse. I wiped a hand across my lips, as if I could wipe away the kiss he’d offered. He’d kissed me, and then snuck back into our house and stolen the Pack’s most precious item.

But it had all happened so quickly. I grabbed what remained of my pride, held tight. “Surely he couldn’t have gotten to the safe, unlocked it, and gotten out in twelve minutes?”

“He could have if he’s trained,” Christopher said, shrugging when we looked at him. “What? So I know how to work a lock.”

Ben slanted his head. “We can’t actually tell if he’s taking anything with him.”

“What else would he be taking?” I asked. “He had no reason to be back in the house. No reason other than the crown.”

Without waiting for an answer, I walked to the window and lifted the sash. The breeze was frigid, but a relief as hot tears of embarrassment slipped down my cheeks.

I wiped them away as sneakily as I could. God forbid any of them should see me cry.

“I can call Catcher,” Jeff said. “Or Merit. Or the Chicago Police Department. But I’m guessing you want to keep this in-house.” Merit was Chuck Merit’s granddaughter, a vampire of Chicago’s Cadogan House. Much like her grandfather, she spent a lot of time solving supernatural problems.

“In-house,” Gabe said. “We don’t need the attention.” His tone dropped, deepened, and was rough by worry. “Is there a chance he knows how to use the crown?”

Silently, Eli glanced at Jeff.

“Jeff knows,” Gabriel said. “I told him.”

“Security,” Jeff said.

“In that case,” Eli said, “I don’t know how he would. The information would be hard to come by, and Yorks have been out of the loop for a very long time. I doubt they’re even friendly with anybody who knows. Did he mention anything to you, Fallon?”

When I was sure my face was dry, I turned back, looked at my brothers. “No. Not a word.”

“This is a disaster,” Ben said.

I knew he meant the theft, but I still felt responsible. All of this trouble, the drama, because of tradition. Danger to the Pack, Jeff pissed, my brothers worried. Our role in the Pack at risk. All of that because tradition had put a thief right under our nose. And because a man we’d trusted with that tradition had betrayed us all.

Humiliation began to give way to anger. And there was only one healthy way to deal with anger.

“I’ll go,” I said, moving back to the group. “I’ll find him, I’ll kick his ass, and I’ll bring back the coronet.”



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