Dark Debt (Chicagoland Vampires 11)

His connection with Balthasar, I agreed. He isn’t giving up Navarre House out of some sudden sense of magnanimity. He’s finishing the first round of his game—Navarre—in order to focus on the second. Which would be Cadogan House.

But one thing bothered me, and I looked back at my father. “The party at Reed’s house. He was surprised to see us—didn’t expect to see us there. He didn’t invite us?”

“He’d said a day or two before he wanted to meet you, although he hadn’t mentioned the party specifically.” His expression dimmed with obvious irritation. “He took care to remind me of that.”

Ethan nodded. “He knew the Navarre vampires would attempt to take out King. He wanted a front row seat, but he hadn’t wanted us there to interfere. Which is precisely what we did.”

My father nodded, and I belatedly realized how tired he looked. His cheeks were drawn, and there were shadows beneath his eyes. “Do you want us to call Grandpa? He can pick you up. Take you home.”

“No. You should tell him what you know now, and that Navarre’s debt has been settled. But leave me and Towerline out of it.”

My eyes widened. “Leave you—you’re a witness. You saw Maguire go into the house. We can’t leave you out of it.”

“But I didn’t,” my father said. “Not really. Just as Reed said, I saw him refused entry at Reed’s house. And I want no one to know about Towerline. Our business will recover, but publicity about the reason for the transfer won’t help that. I promised him I wouldn’t. That was part of our transaction.”

“And you trust him to keep his word?” Ethan asked.

“He is a keen and brilliant businessman. Looking back, I cannot say how much of that is hard work, skill, luck, grift. But we have a truce, and I won’t be the one to break it.” My father rose. “My car’s outside. I want to go home and see my wife.”

I nodded, rose as well. “I should say thank you, but I feel like that wouldn’t be enough. You did a very generous thing. It’s not the kind of thing I’ll ever be able to repay.”

My father looked down at me from his few extra inches of height. “I am a decision maker. For my company, for my family. I make decisions using the best available information, the best data. That data does not include liability. It does not factor popularity. My family, my company, are not democracies. When everything falls down, I fix it, because that is my job. That is my responsibility. That is my weight to carry.”

He looked at Ethan, stared at him for a good, long while. “You’ll protect her?”

The question, the moment, hung in the air like smoke. It was a changing of the guard, not because I needed protecting from either of them (I didn’t), but because the obligation to protect me was passing from one to the other.

“I have since the beginning,” Ethan said, his words holding a keen edge, a reminder that he’d saved my life when my father had inadvertently set my death in motion.

“Then I suppose we’re done for tonight.” With that curt phrase, my father walked to the door, disappeared into the hallway.

I sat 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.

I downed it, squeezed my eyes shut against the burn. “Thank you,” I said hoarsely.

“Mmm-hmm,” he said, and took the glass back, placed it on the coffee table. “Gasoline?”

“Pretty much.” But the warmth was comforting.

Ethan smiled, glanced at Morgan. “You can probably begin moving your vampires back to Navarre.”

Morgan rose, nodded. “I’m going to make some phone calls.”

“Consider having your lawyers adjust whatever documents are necessary to get the House back in control of its affairs,” Ethan said, and Morgan nodded again.

After a final long look at me and a look of acknowledgment, Morgan left the room. Maybe he finally felt that the scales had been balanced.

“Can it be that simple?” Malik asked when Morgan was gone. “That Reed would simply hand back Navarre with no strings?”

“I think it was the simplicity that bothered Reed,” Ethan said. “He is a player. He wants a challenge, and Celina made Navarre easy prey. He’d have enjoyed conquering Navarre, but it would have been over too quickly, the round too easily won.”

I looked at him for a long, quiet moment. “He wants Cadogan.”