Blood Games (Chicagoland Vampires 10)
“Is ‘vampirey’ a word?”
I just looked at him.
“Sorry,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “You’re not the only one who uses sarcasm to cope. Unfortunate tendency.”
“My tendency isn’t unfortunate. And I’ll take that as a no.”
Jonah nodded. “That’s not a marker that’s familiar to me. There are some Rogue subgroups on the West Coast who use ink to mark their lack of affiliation.”
“Ironic.”
“Very. But they’re the only ones I know of. Anyway, I can check the RG archives. That’d be the way to go.”
“The RG has an archive?”
He rolled his eyes. “As partners go, you’re not terribly impressive.”
“Thanks, darling. I appreciate you, too.” But the comment hit home. Most RG partnerships were intimately close—physically and emotionally. I couldn’t offer that kind of relationship to Jonah, but I hadn’t been great with the business end of things, either. I always seemed to be dealing with some vampire drama or other.
“Don’t take it personally,” he said, knocking me playfully on the shoulder, a grin in his almond-shaped blue eyes. “We knew when you came on board that you’d be a different kind of guard.”
I blinked at him. “I really want to discuss that at length, but maybe at a more appropriate time.”
“You need to go back to the lighthouse,” Jonah said. “It’s past time.”
I couldn’t argue with that. The RG was headquartered in the lighthouse that stood sentinel at the harbor in Lake Michigan. In the several months I’d been an RG member, I’d visited only once.
“You have my word. Although it might be hard to get away right now, all things considered.”
Jonah’s phone rang. He pulled it out, checked the screen. “That’s Scott. I need to get back to the House. I’ll message you tomorrow.”
I nodded, watched him walk away.
“They lost the driver.”
I glanced behind me, found Catcher moving toward me from the group of bystanders. I didn’t mistake the grimness in his voice. “You’re kidding me.”
“Unfortunately not. He ditched the vehicle, and the CPD lost him on foot in Little Italy. They’re canvassing the neighborhood. Maybe they’ll get lucky.”
“Maybe,” I agreed, but I didn’t think so. He was a vampire, and probably stronger and faster than the uniforms.
“The forensic unit’s on the way,” he said. “They’ll check the car, grab the bullet casings, see if they can get fingerprints. Maybe they can match the weapon to another crime, get us an ID.”
I nodded. “Maybe. The driver was a vampire. He was here for Ethan. Had a warning to pass along,” I said, and told him what the driver had said.
Catcher’s brow knitted with concern. “Is Ethan safe?”
“Last I heard,” I said, but I pulled out my phone to check for an update and found the waiting text: EAGLE HAS LANDED.
“He’s home,” I confirmed, the band of tension across my shoulders easing just a bit.
“Well, that’s something. Good thing he was out of here before he could see you play chicken with a few thousand pounds of American-made steel.”
I grimaced. I wasn’t sure Ethan had missed my stand against oncoming traffic, but I was pretty sure I’d know the second I put a toe in the House again. He’d be furious if he’d seen.
On the other hand . . . “When your body is your only weapon, you use it.”
Catcher smiled, and there was a tiny gleam of pride in his eyes. He’d been my trainer before Ethan, the first man who’d taught me to stand, to fall, and to bluff.
“I couldn’t agree more. You did good.”
“I tried. But I’d rather have stopped him here than know he’s still out there, whoever he is, waiting to cause trouble.”
“You know how these things go, Merit. He’ll probably cause trouble again, and you’ll get your chance to square off again.”
That was exactly what I was afraid of.
* * *
Catcher, Jeff, and I stayed until the vampires had gone back to their Houses and the humans who’d been injured—six of them—had been taken care of. And then we answered the CPD’s questions. The detectives who interviewed us were polite but wary; they knew my grandfather, respected him and his long career in the CPD, but weren’t thrilled about supernatural violence spilling onto their streets.
Not that I could blame them. I was relieved to be back in my car and on my way back to the House.
Cadogan House was three stories of white stone, plus a basement of offices and training rooms. It sat in the midst of lush grounds in Chicago’s Hyde Park neighborhood, and the décor was as fancy as the vampires who filled it. Subtle colors, fine fabrics, gorgeous wood.
I parked in the basement—a gift I’d earned for driving a silver confection of a car—then headed upstairs to Ethan’s office. I found him waiting with Luc and Malik, the House’s three senior staff. Ethan and Luc still wore their running clothes and race medals. Malik, tall with pale green eyes that offset his dark skin and closely cropped hair, was the only one dressed in the Cadogan House uniform: a slim-fitting black suit, crisp button-down, no tie.
Luc and Malik were seated in the office’s sitting area. Arms crossed, Ethan was in the middle of the room, pacing its length. His gaze flashed back to mine, body stiffening as he looked me over, checked me for injuries. He exhaled when he realized I was whole, but that didn’t stop the imperious arch of his eyebrow or the burst of magic that lit through the room.
I guessed he’d seen my standoff.
“I’m fine,” I assured him, stepping inside the office and closing the door. “He drove off, led the CPD on a chase. Abandoned the car and got away on foot.”
He walked toward me, clamped his hands on my arms. I saw the battle in his eyes—fear warring with fury, pride with concern.
I’m fine, I silently assured him. I’m worried about you.
Christ, Merit. He moved his hands to the nape of my neck, pulling our bodies together, touching his lips to my forehead. We’ll discuss this at length when we don’t have an audience.
So I had that to look forward to.
He kissed me again, released me. When I realized my sudden dizziness wasn’t just the result of adrenaline and magic, I walked to the bar inset in the long wall of bookshelves and grabbed a bottle of Blood4You. I’d earned it.