“Possibly,” Ethan agreed. “We beat Maguire in the chase that I presume Reed arranged, survived the accident. I suspect he’s decided we’re now legitimate competition. Or it could be more than that. All vampires? All supernaturals? All we know is that he has tired of this game and is ready for the next one.”
“And in the meantime?” I asked. “What do we do?”
“We eliminate the threat we can eliminate. We focus on Balthasar. Let’s go talk to Jude Maguire. But before we go—Malik, could you give us a moment, please?”
“Of course,” he said with a knowing smile, rising and leaving the office, leaving Ethan and me alone, my father’s generosity still buzzing in the air.
My smile was cautiously hopeful. “Did that just happen?”
“So it seems,” Ethan said. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. Just stunned.” He sat down beside me, and I looked at him. “Have I been misjudging him all these years? Has he been this generous, and I never saw it? Or was I right, and this is just an anomaly and he’s going to demand repayment down the road?”
He brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “I am sorry that you’re forced to ask questions like that about your father. About someone who should always protect you, and without condition. It may be that he’s remembering your sister, and wanted to make amends in the only way he knows how. That is, I think, why he tried to make you a vampire in the first place.”
I sat back, closed my eyes. “Families are complicated.”
“Living creatures are complicated,” Ethan amended. “And since Jude Maguire still numbers among them, let’s go hear what he has to say.”
* * *
Chicago Central was a hospital complex of disparate buildings and architecture, at least a third of the buildings under construction at any given time. But then again, most hospitals seemed constantly in the process of morphing from one style into another, wings sprouting here and there like mutant insects.
My grandfather, Catcher, and Jeff waited for us in the hospital’s bright and spacious lobby, which I guessed from the spotless floors and immaculate seating had been recently rehabbed.
“For you,” Catcher said, handing back my dagger.
My relief at having it in hand again was almost palpable. I tucked it into my boot as discreetly as possible, felt better for that simple act.
“What’s this I hear about Navarre?” my grandfather asked.
“We aren’t privy to the details,” Ethan said smoothly. “But a benefactor made an anonymous donation to address Navarre’s outstanding debt. We understand Reed considers the debt satisfied.”
My grandfather turned his cop’s eyes on me. “A benefactor?”
I kept my gaze straight, unwavering, and I bluffed like there was no tomorrow. “That’s what we hear.”
He stared at me, unblinking for another long moment before turning his gaze onto Ethan. “That’s all I’m going to get.”
“That’s it,” Ethan agreed.
“So Navarre’s debt is paid,” Catcher said. “But what about the vendetta against King?”
“Still not settled, any more than Reed’s interest in us, at any rate. But I suspect Reed is a patient man, and he’ll be willing to wait for King.”
“King will have to stay in witness protection until Reed’s under wraps,” my grandfather muttered almost to himself.
“Reed is rich, connected, and apparently has supernatural benefactors at his disposal,” Catcher pointed out. “He won’t be under wraps anytime soon. But for now, we’ve got Maguire. We bring down Reed one step at a time.”
“One minion at a time,” Jeff agreed.
down again, stared at the empty doorway, the room silent around me.
“I’m not certain what to say,” Ethan said when the front door’s opening and closing echoed down the hallway, “although I believe chocolate would be appropriate?”
I shook my head. “I need a drink. A stiff drink.”
Ethan walked to the bar, poured something into a glass that was probably older and more expensive than I’d appreciate, and brought it to me without comment.