Hard Bitten (Chicagoland Vampires 4)

On the ground floor. Figuring out who's there, how the information is being passed, who's participating, and whether they're participating willingly."

"Can you pull in data from the CPD?" I asked.

"See what their files have to say?"

"Done and done," Jeff said, sitting forward and beginning to tap on his keyboard. "I might have to dig a little to find it - their IT architecture is for shit - but I'll let you know."

Of course, just because the Ombud's office didn't have information didn't mean there wasn't information to be had. It was probably time to tap my next source. . . .

"Thanks," I told both of them. "Can you give me a call if you hear anything else?"

"Of course. I assume Sullivan's going to send you out on some sort of crazy psycho-vampirehunting field trip?"

"The forecast is strong."

"Call me if you need backup," Catcher said.

"Of course," I agreed, but I actually had an idea about that, as well. After all, Jonah had been offered up as a partner.

"And if you do go," Catcher added, "look for identifying information, listen for any word about how they're contacting vamps or identifying humans."

"Will do."

"You want me to find Chuck before you leave?" Jeff asked.

I waved him off. "No worries. He's busy. Let him handle his open house."

"I'm pretty sure I can manage a job and family both," said a gravelly voice at the door. I glanced back and smiled as my grandfather walked into the office. He was dressed up tonight, having traded in the long-sleeved plaid shirt for a corduroy blazer. But he'd stuck with the khaki pants and thick-soled grandpa shoes.

He walked over to where I sat at the edge of the desk and planted a kiss on my forehead.

"How's my favorite vampire?"

I put an arm around his waist and gave him a half hug. "Are there any others in the running?"

"Now that you mention it, no. They tend to be rather high maintenance."

"Amen," Catcher and Jeff simultaneously said.

I gave them a snarky look.

"What brings you to our neck of the woods?"

"I was filling in Catcher and Jeff about our latest drama. Long story short, black ops and raves two-point-oh."

He grimaced. "That wouldn't thrill me even if I weren't your grandfather."

"Nope," I agreed.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news myself," he said, "but your father tells me you haven't spoken in a few weeks."

I didn't care for my father, but I cared even less for the fact that he'd put my grandfather in the middle of our feud.

"Actually, I saw him leaving the mayor's home last night. We had a very pleasant exchange," I assured my grandfather.

"Good girl," he said with a smile.

I hopped off the desk. It was time to get the rest of the investigative show on the road. "I need to run, and you need to get back to your party, so I'll let them fill you in on the details."

"As if there's a chance I could avoid it," my grandfather said. He hugged me one more time, then let me go.

I said my goodbyes and walked back to the front door, the river trolls nodding at me when I passed as if I'd been vetted. Not as a vampire, maybe, but at least the granddaughter of a man they trusted.

Friends in high places definitely helped  - especially if you had enemies in even higher spots.

My phone rang just as I was getting back into my car. I pulled the door shut and flipped it open.

It was Mallory.

"Hey, Blue Hair. What's up?"

She didn't speak, but she immediately began sobbing.

"Mal, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Catharsis," she said. "It's one of those catharsis cries."

I blew out a breath. I'd been prepared to squeal tires in the rush to get to her if she'd been in danger. But every girl knows the importance of a cathartic cry - when you aren't necessarily crying over something specific, but because everything has worked itself into a giant, contorted knot.

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"Kind of. Not really. I don't know. Can you meet me?"

"Of course. Where are you?"

She sniffed. "I'm still in Schaumburg. I'm at the Goodwin's off I-90. I know it's far away, but could you meet me out here? Do you have time?"

Goodwin's was one of those ubiquitous twenty-four-hour restaurants that you saw in office parks and hotel parking lots. The kind frequented by senior citizens at four in the afternoon and teenagers at midnight. I wouldn't call Mallory a foodie, but she definitely had an interest in hip cuisine. If we were meeting at a Goodwin's, she wanted either bland food or anonymity.

I wasn't crazy about either option.

"I'm just leaving the Ombud's office. It'll take me about forty-five to get there. That okay?"

"Yeah. I'm studying. I'll be here."

The studying explained the choice of restaurants. We said our goodbyes and I looked back at the office door for a minute, wondering if I should head back in and warn Catcher that his girl was a stressball. But I was a BFF, and there was a code of honor. A protocol. She'd called me, not Catcher - even though he was in the office and clearly reachable. That meant she needed to vent to me, so that was what we'd do.

"On my way," I muttered, and started the car.

While I drove, I made plans for the second part of my investigation. And that part was a little bit trickier, mostly because I didn't think my source liked me. The first time we'd met, Jonah had been brusque. The second time I discovered him on the dark streets of Wrigleyville, having followed me around so he could get a look at me.

Test my mettle, as it were.

The Red Guard had been organized two centuries ago to protect Master vampires, but now operated to keep a watchful eye on the Masters themselves. When Noah Beck, the leader of Chicago's Rogues, made the membership offer, he'd informed me that Jonah, captain of the guards of Chicago's Grey House, would be my partner if I signed up. I was flattered by the offer, but joining a group whose purpose was to keep an eye on Masters would have provoked World War III in Cadogan House.

Ethan, if he'd learned of it, would have seen the move as a slap in his face.

I considered myself to be a pretty low-drag vampire; purposefully adding to my stockpile of drama wasn't really my cup of tea.

Jonah, having been singularly unimpressed with me, probably wasn't bummed that I'd said no. I wasn't expecting this telephone call was going to go any better, but the RG had details on the raves - including the rave they'd cleaned up.