Drink Deep (Chicagoland Vampires 5)

I looked behind me.

McKetrick stood there, gun outstretched, arm shaking with obvious fury.

"I have had it with you," he said, trigger finger shaking.

After being beaten down by Celina on another rainy night, I'd made a promise to myself. So I stood up and gazed back at him, forcing myself to look calm - and locking my legs skint sizeo they didn't tremble.

"If you're going to stake me," I told him, "you'l do it while looking me in the eye." I prepared myself for the shock: to feel the sharp sting of splinters if he happened to miss my heart, or to lose myself completely if his aim was true. I was brave enough to admit that either end was a possibility.

He extended the gun toward my chest, just above my heart.

I tried one final ploy. "I appreciate this, you know."

I watched him fight the urge, but he stil asked the question. "Appreciate what?"

"What you're doing." I took a miniscule step forward, pushing my chest into the muzzle of the gun. "Making me a martyr. I mean, I get that you'l have to make up some tale about how I tried to hurt you and you saved the city of Chicago from me." I lowered my voice a bit. "But the supernaturals wil know, McKetrick. The vampires. The shifters. They like me. And they won't believe you."

I stood up on tiptoes and looked him in the eye. "They'l find you."

Funny thing about anger - it could help you, or it could hurt you. It could ruin your composure, and make you blink.

McKetrick blinked.

"You bitch," he said, teeth gritted. "I wil not let you ruin this city." The gun wavered, shaking in his hand just a bit. I took the opportunity, striking up beneath the gun and pushing it out of his hand. It flew through the air and skittered across the concrete.

He dived for it.

I could give credit where credit was due: McKetrick was bigger and brawnier than me. But I was faster.

I got there before he did, scraped fingers against asphalt to ensure the gun was safely in hand, and by the time he reached me, turned it on him.

His eyes widened. "You are ruining this city."

"Yeah, you said that. I'd like to point out, though, that vamps aren't pul ing over civilians and threatening them, nor are we pointing guns in their faces."

He growled, spit out a few more curses, and moved to his knees. "Does this make you feel powerful? With me down on my knees before you like some sycophantic human?"

"No. And you know why not?" I gave him a pistol-whipping to the temple that put him on the ground and knocked him out cold. "Because I'm not you."

I closed my eyes just for a moment - just for a moment to breathe - and then opened them again at the sound of squealing tires.

I looked back. The two goons had disappeared, and the black SUV was peeling down the street.

"So much for loyalty," I muttered, then looked down at McKetrick and around the neighborhood. The bus stop was a few yards away, but the eastern sky was beginning to lighten. I didn't have much time, so I was going to need backup.

Lightning stil flashing around us, I dragged McKetrick into the bus stop and propped him up against the bench. I pul ed out my phone.

Catcher answered with a question. "What do you want, Merit?"

That entire house was testy this week, and I was beginning to reach the end of my patience with the Bel /Carmichael clan. Stil , I had work to do.

I gaveizes week, a him my address. "If you can get here fast enough, you'l find McKetrick in the bus stop, out cold."

"McKetrick?" he asked, his voice suddenly suffused with a lot less snark. "What happened?"

"He and two of his goons surprised me in the Loop.

Same song and dance about hating vampires and wanting them out of Chicago. But with a real y bad twist. He has, or at least claims to have, aspen bul ets. I managed to grab one of his guns, but not his goons, who took off. He also mentioned he has some kind of facility. I'm hoping he'l give you some details."

"That would be helpful. You interested in pressing charges against him for assault and battery?"

"Only if it's necessary to keep him locked up."

"Shouldn't be," Catcher said. "If you'l recal , we're no longer affiliated with the city. This is just a couple of guys having a friendly conversation off the record. Funny how the Constitution is no longer an issue."

Maybe not, but that didn't mean my grandfather couldn't stil end up in hot water for kidnapping. "That's your cal . But I don't know how long he's going to be out, and since the city's going to start stirring pretty soon, you might want to give Detective Jacobs a heads-up. You don't want a random CPD uniform finding him before you get here."

Jacobs knew my grandfather, and had interrogated me after a dose of V, the drug Tate manufactured for vampires, had turned the Cadogan House bar into a deadly mosh pit.

Jacobs was cautious and detail oriented, and he was honestly on the side of truth and justice. There weren't a lot of people like that around anymore, so I'l deemed him an al y.

"I'l float the idea to Chuck, see which direction he wants to take. I know he wants to stay on the good side of the CPD, but there's something to be said for testing this newfound freedom the mayor has given us."

I heard the sounds of shuffling. "We're leaving now," he added. "Should be there in twenty."

"It's nearly dawn, so I'm heading back to the House. And speaking of your newfound freedom, any luck arranging a second meeting with Tate?"

"I'm working on it. I'm cashing in the political capital we've got, but the bureaucrats are greedy. Kowalczyk's made them nervous. I'l let you know tomorrow night."

"I would appreciate it. Hey - while I've got you on the phone, have you ever smel ed anything weird around Tate?"

"I make it a habit not to smel politicians or convicts."

"I'm serious. Whenever I'm around him, I smel lemon and sugar. And a little while ago, after the downpour, I smel ed it again - like there was some sort of similar magic flowing from the rain. Like he'd been involved in it somehow."

"We got a little rain out here, but I didn't smel anything. I wouldn't put a lot of stock in smel s. Besides, Tate's locked up. What could he do?"

So he said. I knew there was something in it, but I let it go. "Take care. Be gentle with our soldier."

"Not that he deserves it," Catcher said, and he hung up the cal .

The edge of the sky now searing yel ow, I put the phone away again and left McKetrick in his bus stop, looking like a partygoer who'd had a little too much fun.

Lucky him.