Hard Bitten (Chicagoland Vampires 4)

"It's practically just me and you in here."

That unleashed a new flood of tears. My heart clenched at the thought that she'd done or seen things in the last couple of weeks that had brought her to tears - and that I probably couldn't have stopped it.

I got up and moved to her side of the table, waiting until she slid down before I took a seat beside her.

"Tell me," I said.

"I don't know who I am anymore."

I couldn't help it; I smiled. If there was ever a problem I could understand as a newbie vampire, that was it. I bumped my forehead against her shoulder.

"Keep going."

The floodgates opened. "I was this girl, right?

Doing my thing. Having blue hair, working my ad-exec mojo. And then you're a vampire, and Ethan Sullivan is touching my hair and telling me I have magic. And then there's Catcher and I'm a witch and I'm learning Keys and how to throw flaming balls of crap at targets so I'm ready when the vampire shit inevitably hits the fan."

She sucked in air, then started again. "I was supposed to be a partner at thirty, Merit. Have a condo on the lake. Have a Birkin bag and generally be satisfied with my very fancy lot.

And now I'm doing" - she looked around  - "magic. And not just magic."

Another tear slid down her cheek.

"What do you mean, not just magic?"

Her voice dropped an octave. "You know about the four Keys, right?"

"Sure. Power, beings, weapons, text."

"Right. Those are the four major divisions of magic. Well, turns out it's not that simple - those aren't the only major divisions."

I frowned at her. "So what are the others?"

She leaned in toward me. "They're black magic, Merit. The bad stuff. There's an entire system of dark magic that overlays the four good Keys." She grabbed a napkin and uncapped a pen. "You've seen Catcher's tattoo, right?"

I nodded. It was across his abdomen, a circle divided into quadrants.

She sketched out the image I'd seen, then pointed at the four pielike segments. "So each quadrant is a Key, right? A division of magic."

She pulled another napkin from the holder and unfolded it, then drew another divided circle.

When she was done, she placed the second napkin on top of the first one.

"It's the same four divisions - but all black magic."

This time, my voice was softer. "Give me something to go on, here. What kind of black magic are we talking? Elphaba, Wicked Witch of the West - type stuff or Slytherin-type stuff?"

She shook her head. "I can't tell you."

"You can tell me anything."

She looked over at me, frustration clear in her face. "Not won't tell you, can't tell you. There's Order juju at work. I know things, but I can't get them out. I can summon up the phrases in my head, but can't actually give voice to the words."

I did not like the sound of that - the fact that the already-secretive Order was using magic to keep Mallory from talking about the things that worried her. Dark things.

Regrettable things?

"Is there anything I can do?"

She shook her head, eyes on her hands on the table.

"Is that why your hands are so chapped?"

She nodded. "I'm tired, Merit. I'm training, and I'm learning what I can, but this - I don't know - it uses you differently." She clenched her hands into fists and then released them again.

"It's a whole different kind of exhausting. Not just body. Not just mind. Soul, too, kind of." Her eyebrows knotted with worry.

"Have you talked to Catcher about any of this?"

She shook her head. "He's not in the Order. I can't tell him anything I can't tell you."

I suddenly had an understanding of why Catcher wasn't such a big fan of the Order - and why it mattered whether he was still a member or not.

"How can I help?"

She swallowed. "Could we just sit here for a little while?" She sighed haggardly. "I'm just tired. And I have exams coming up, and there's so much prep to do - so many expectations on me right now. I just don't want to go home. Not back to my life. I just want to sit in this crappy corporate restaurant for another couple of hours."

I put my arm around her shoulders. "As long as you want."

We sat in the booth for an hour, barely talking, Mallory sipping orange juice from her cup and staring out the window at the rare car that passed the restaurant.

When her tumbler was empty, I bumped her shoulder again. "He loves you, you know. Even if it feels like something you can't take to him, you can. I mean, I get that you can't give him the details, but you can tell him this is worrying you."

"You know that for sure?"

I caught the tiny thread of hope in her voice and tugged. "I know that for sure. It's Catcher, Mallory. Crazy stubborn? Sure. Gruff? Absolutely. But also totally in love with you."

She sniffed. "Keep going."

"Remember what you told me about Ethan?

That I deserved someone who wanted me from the beginning? Well, Catcher Bell is your somebody. He would snap anyone who came at you in half, and that's been obvious since the second he met you. There's not a doubt in my mind that he's all in, and there's nothing you can't tell him. Well," I added with a smile, "unless you become a vamp. That would probably be a deal breaker."

Mal made a half laugh, half cry and wiped her face again.

"I assume you're not making secret plans to become a vampire?"

"Not right at this moment."

"Good. I think one vamp in the family is plenty enough."

"Concur on that one. It's just . . ." She paused, then started again. "There are very few decisions in my life that I regret. Not grabbing that vintage Chanel we saw at that consignment store on Division. Not watching Buffy until the third season. Minor stuff, but you know what I mean."

She shook her head. "But this. Being ID'd as a sorcerer, agreeing to go along with this stuff, taking part in things - I don't know. Maybe I should have just ignored the whole thing. Kept on with the ad gig and ignored the vampires and the sorcery and Ethan touching my hair. I mean, who does that? Who touches someone's hair and pronounces they have magic?"

"Darth Sullivan."

"Darth goddamned Sullivan." She chuckled a little, then put her head on my shoulder. "Did you ever wish you could just walk away? Rewind your life back to the day before you became supernaturally inclined and catch an Amtrak out of town?"

I smiled a little, thinking of what Ethan had said. "The thought has occurred to me."