Midnight Marked (Chicagoland Vampires 12)

“His name was Caleb Franklin,” Gabe said. “He was a Pack member—a soldier. A shifter who helped keep order in the territory. He’d go on runs with Damien, actually.”

Damien Garza was a tall, dark, and handsome shifter with a quiet personality, a dry wit, and an exceptional hand with an omelet.

Gabriel stood up. “But Caleb’s not a Pack member anymore. He defected.”

Ethan’s eyebrows lifted. “He left the Pack by choice?”

“He did.”

“Why?” Ethan asked.

“He wanted more freedom.”

Since the Pack was all about freedom—the open road, communing with nature, good food, and good drink—I guessed we weren’t getting the full story. The look on Ethan’s face said he didn’t entirely buy it, either. But this wasn’t the setting for an interrogation of the Pack Apex.

“The vampire?” Gabriel asked.

“We gave chase, but he got away.”

Gabriel nodded, noticed the bandage on my arm. “And got you in the process.”

“Handgun through the window of a beat-up Trans Am. I don’t suppose that vehicle rings any bells?”

He shook his head, glanced at Fallon. She shook her head, too.

“He did this in a relatively public space,” my grandfather said, “but he was eager to get away.”

“We found something else,” I said, gesturing down the alley.

We walked toward the pedestal—a human, two vampires, three shifters, and two sorcerers, all of us impotent in the face of death.

Fallon, Gabriel, and my grandfather studied the pedestal.

“Alchemical,” my grandfather said.

“And the Merits are two for two,” Catcher said. “That’s as far as we’ve gotten. We can pick out individual symbols, but we don’t know what they mean in context.” He glanced at Gabriel. “This mean anything to you?”

Gabe shook his head. “I can feel the magic but don’t recognize it.”

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” All eyes turned to me. “I mean, it has a weird edge. A sharp edge.”

“Metallic,” Mallory said, nodding. “That’s the nature of alchemy.”

“And there’s one more thing,” Catcher said. “Mallory felt something. Some kind of magic.”

All eyes shifted to her now.

“That’s how I found him,” she told Gabriel. “I felt—I don’t know how else to describe it—like a magical pulse. And then we looked for him, found him.”

Gabriel cocked his head at her. “You haven’t sensed anything like that before?”

“No,” she said. “And God knows I’ve been around enough bad magic in my time.”

I reached out and squeezed her hand, found it a little clammy. She gripped mine hard and didn’t let go.

• • •

Jeff and Catcher took photographs of the symbols. My and Mallory’s hands were still linked when we walked back toward the body. Three more of the shifters had dismounted, and they stood around him protectively.