Dark Debt (Chicagoland Vampires 11) - Page 62
“Ethan and Merit, of Cadogan House. They’re vampires.”
“Oh?” she asked, her tone making it hard to tell whether she was surprised, confused, or disturbed.
“As I’ve finished my business, I suppose we should join the party again.” He released his wife, gestured toward the door, and fell into step beside Ethan.
“I understand you’re part of the AAM—the new national organization.” They entered the gallery, the magnate and the Master, and chatted about the departure from the GP. My father and the bodyguard followed, and then Sorcha and me.
“This is quite a house,” I said to her.
“Yes, it’s very big. So, you’re a vampire?”
“Yes. For almost a year now.”
“Oh. How does that work, exactly?”
“Humans are turned when they’re bitten by other vampires.”
“Oh,” she said again. Once again, I couldn’t tell if she couldn’t understand or didn’t much care.
We reached the stairs and Reed stopped at the top, gestured Sorcha to his side. He signaled a waiter, who brought over a tray of champagne, stood at attention while Reed turned to his guests.
“Ladies and gentleman,” Reed said, his resonant voice carrying across the space.
A hush fell over the room. Guests turned toward Reed, moved toward the stairs to watch him.
“I’d like to thank you all for coming to our small soiree tonight. I hope you’ll enjoy the beverages, the food. You’ve all been generous, and I hope you’ll consider being generous one more time. You’ll see men and women with baskets in the crowd. Please consider making a donation.”
The plague doctor danced through the crowd with two other masked friends, all of them carrying reed baskets, pausing occasionally as guests dropped money inside them.
The entire event had been theatrical, so when two men in harlequin masks jumped suddenly from the balcony and landed in the middle of the marble stairway, I thought it was part of the act.
But when they pulled gleaming katanas from black scabbards and the subtle vibration of vampire magic filled the air, it was obvious this wasn’t part of the show.
It was an attack.
Chapter Seven
DRESSING DOWN
Ethan, I said silently, and he nodded, his body tense and ready to spring forward.
“We come for Sanford King,” said the vampire on the right, katana pointed at the crowd. The humans talked and gestured nervously, looking around for the man who’d been called out. Unfortunately for him, Sanford wasn’t difficult to spot, being nearly a head taller than everyone else.
“I believe you’re at the wrong house,” Reed said, voice booming and quieting the crowd again—except for the shuffle of cell phones as cameras snapped, messages were sent, and calls were placed.
This would need diplomacy, I thought, pulling my phone surreptitiously from my bag and sending Brody and my grandfather a message: VAMPS W/ SWORDS AT REED HOUSE TO HARM SANFORD KING. CPD DISPATCH PROBABLE.
“We’re at precisely the right house,” said the vampire on the left.
They moved down the stairs, one tread at a time, their swords extended and blades gleaming silver. With each step, the crowd moved backward, away from danger.
Sanford King might have been a criminal, but he wasn’t a coward. He pushed through the humans and moved into the clearing, looked over the men. His face had gone crimson, sweat beading on his brow. “I’m Sanford King. The fuck do you want with me?”
“You’re a killer,” said the vampire on the left. “A criminal. A parasite on the city. You deserve to die. Tonight, we’ll handle that.”
They began to circle King, lions preparing for an attack, the gazelle cornered and nervous between them. Criminal, coward, or otherwise, Sanford was human, and didn’t look like much of a match for the well-armed vampires.
Ethan and I simultaneously stepped forward to assist. But before we could take the stairs, Reed held up a hand, and his voice was low and threatening.
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