Midnight Marked (Chicagoland Vampires 12)

“And you followed him. Without backup, without weapon.” Without me, I guessed, he’d left unspoken.

“If I’d waited or delayed, he’d have disappeared. I told Mallory to get inside, to lock the gate, and then I chased him to the train. You saw the rest?”

Ethan nodded, just once. “What there was to see.” He watched me for a moment. “And what aren’t you telling me?”

I gathered up courage, held it tightly. “He’s not just the vampire who killed Caleb Franklin.” I paused. “He’s the vampire who attacked me in the Quad.”

Ethan went very, very still. Fury and possessiveness flared together in his magic, spun together in the room. “He’s the one who attacked you.”

I nodded. “I didn’t recognize him at first. But when we were on the train, and the light was better—when I could see his face and, I don’t know, sense something familiar in his scent or his magic—I knew it was him.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know his name. I still don’t know his damn name.” That seemed so important to me right now, so much that my voice trembled, and I shook my head, swallowed hard, as emotions rose.

The wave of anger crested, followed by a flood of sympathy. “Merit,” he said, voice full of emotion, concern.

I just shook my head, held up a hand. I wasn’t ready for sympathy yet.

“He works for Reed. He’d planned to get to me to throw you off. You’re Reed’s real target. He wants to hurt you. To manipulate you. That’s who he is.”

“Fuck Adrien Reed.”

His voice was so sharp, so forceful, I had to look up at him again. His expression held the ferocity of a warrior, a man intent on destroying his enemies.

“Death cannot come soon enough for Adrien Reed, but beyond that, he is not important to me. The only thing that interests me about Reed is the risk he presents to my people, to you. I care about that very much.”

It was very nearly an apology. Very nearly an acknowledgment that Reed had made him do regrettable things—including calling my father.

“What is Reed’s connection to the Rogue?” he asked, before I could bring up that subject. Which was probably best for both of us. And still, he kept me talking. Kept me reporting on facts, rather than slipping back into fear.

“It has to be Celina.”

“How?” he asked.

“She paid the vampire to kill me. She’s been in debt to Reed for years; he was financing her lifestyle. Maybe she got the money from Reed, and that’s how he found out about the Rogue. Or maybe Reed wasn’t just the source of the money. He’s a kingpin. Maybe he supplied the assassin, too. Although, if that’s the case, why wait so long to throw him back in my face?”

Ethan’s gaze darkened, probably as he thought of Balthasar. “Reed is a man who knows how to bide his time.”

I nodded. “He loves the dramatic. No, it would be more accurate to say he loves an emotional mind-fuck. And he has, by God, succeeded. I feel like it’s happened all over again. Like I’m starting from square one. I feel—like everything is in the wrong place.”

“Oh, Merit,” Ethan said. He reached for my hands, ignored my attempts to shake him off, and drew me up and against him. He embraced me, wrapping his arms around my body as if he might force out the rest of the world, or protect me from the sharper edges of it.

I buried my face in his chest, allowing the tears I’d been holding back for hours to finally begin to stream.

“I let him go,” I said when I reached the ugliest part of the tears. “I fucking let him go. And I hate myself for that.”

“You are entitled to your emotions, but that is undeservedly harsh. You saved a child, Merit.”

“I let him go.” I looked up at him. “Three times, Ethan. Three times he’s hurt me and walked away from it. When is he going to receive justice? When is he forced to pay the price?”

“I don’t know, Merit. I don’t know if you’ll get justice or if he will.” He pulled back enough to look at me. “You are not a child, and you know the world is not fair. You’ve had your share of unfairness, and got a stark reminder of that tonight. But I swear to you, Merit—I swear it on my life, my House, and my soul—he will never touch you again.”

I was suddenly so, so tired. “He’ll try. He will try, and Reed will try. He’ll take a shot at you, or at me, or at my father.”

The remembrance of my father—of my lingering battle with Ethan—made me look away. But Ethan took my chin between two fingers, forced me to meet his gaze.

His eyes were narrowed, his brow furrowed, as he looked down at me. “We’ll have this out, too, while we’re dealing with everything else. Your father has been cruel to you so many times over. Why has a phone call become a wall between us?”

“Because maybe he’s changed.”