Dark Debt (Chicagoland Vampires 11)

Sir? Since when was Jude Maguire a “sir”? He was muscle, not leadership. Leadership didn’t put itself in the line of fire, in clear view of the public. And it certainly didn’t get broken ribs after a failed operation. But that hardly mattered now. Nobody in the room argued, and we weren’t exactly in a position to do so.

The second player made his selection, sent a couple of balls spinning ineffectually before giving up the board to Maguire again. He walked around the table, checking angles.

“We’re ready for your demands,” Morgan said into the tense silence.

“Our demands,” Maguire repeated, then pulled back the cue, snapped it forward. The ball ricocheted across the table, hit the bumper, then sailed into the diagonal pocket. He rose, looked us over. “Your former Master borrowed a lot of money from us, asked for a lot of favors. And you don’t want to pay us back.”

“I’m not here to argue about the debt. I’m here to resolve it.”

Maguire handed the cue to the man closest to him, walked toward us. “Are you? Are you in charge? Because what I see here is a man begging for relief. Begging so hard he brought a girl with him.” Maguire stopped a few feet away, crossed his arms, gave me a slow and salacious look. “A girl I didn’t finish the first time around.”

I barely managed not to growl, but didn’t bother to hide the fangs and silvered eyes. “Just for the record, you won’t be finishing me now, either.”

“Just get on with it,” Morgan spat out. “What do you want?”

Slowly, Maguire shifted his gaze back to Morgan. “We’ve already told you what we want, and you apparently sent children to do a man’s job. We wanted King, and we wanted him dead.”

“Why?” Morgan asked.

“Because—that’s all you needed to know to perform your task, which you failed. That means he’s in the wind.”

“I won’t kill for you,” Morgan said.

“That’s pretty obvious.” This time, Maguire slid his gaze to me. “What would you do for her?”

Maguire’s gaze snapped to something beside me, and I pivoted, lifted a hand instinctively to duck the pool stick one of Maguire’s goons was yielding like a club. I wrenched it away from him, shoved the blunt end into his gut, pushed him backward until he bobbled and hit the ground on his ass.

Stick in my hand, wielded like a weapon, I looked back at Maguire. “I don’t need anyone to kill for me.”

He put a hand on his chest in mock apology. “I guess I misspoke. We don’t want him to kill someone for you. He’s already fucked that up. But you, we can use. There are plenty in Chicago who want you alive, and who’d pay a pretty penny to keep you that way.”

“Using me to get King isn’t a very good idea.” Given Maguire’s sudden sneer, we’d guessed his plan accurately.

“Even assuming my grandfather knows where he is, he won’t give him up. He won’t negotiate, even for me.” I wasn’t one hundred percent confident my grandfather would make that choice, but I was pretty certain. He was an honorable man, and believed in duty.

“I’m willing to take that chance,” Maguire said. He gestured, and the man I’d pushed back barreled forward again. I gripped the pool cue, angled, and struck, intending to box his ears. But this time, he knew the blow was coming. He ducked to dodge it and aimed for my lower body, trying to grab me. I jumped backward to avoid him, my arms wide to keep my balance . . . and just within reach of two more humans.

One grabbed the pool cue. The other grabbed my arm, twisting it backward and nearly doubling me over. I kicked backward with the opposite leg, caught his knee. He bobbled, but retorqued my arm, sending shocks of bright pain from fingers to shoulder. I hit my knees hard, my arm high and awkward behind me.

“A little help here,” I said, trying to wiggle myself free without dislocating my shoulder.

“Little busy,” Morgan said quietly, and I glanced his way. Maguire had an enormous handgun, nothing you’d want to meet in a dark alley, aimed point-blank at Morgan’s head. That, I guessed, would be the kind of shot that even a vampire wouldn’t survive.

“Let her go,” Morgan said, hands in the air. “You don’t have any argument with her.”

“You’re wrong there, but then you weren’t part of our escapade yesterday. You were in your House, nice and comfortable, while your vampire was assaulted on the street. Just like Celina would have been.” Maguire’s smile was mocking. “Point being, you aren’t really in a position to make demands.”

Maguire had done his research, knew just where to push Morgan’s buttons.

“Neither are you, if you think her family will give you anything. Her father’s an asshole, and her grandfather’s a cop. She’s right; he won’t give up King, even to save her life.”

Maguire lifted a shoulder. “Once again, that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“You’d be bringing the wrath of the entire CPD down on the Circle, on you.”

He laughed haughtily. “You think the CPD can touch us? There is nothing that’s happened in this city for ten years that we haven’t approved. That includes your father’s little pet project.”

I might not have liked my father overmuch, but that didn’t mean I wanted him involved with the Circle. “Stay away from my family.”