Blade Bound (Chicagoland Vampires 13)

We didn’t bother to ask questions, but followed him to the front door, Mallory and Catcher behind us.

A dozen vampires stood on the lawn, every single one of them in Midnight High School T-shirts, a dozen members of the Red Guard. They wore the shirts to identify themselves on an op.

As far as I knew, the RG members themselves were the only ones who knew what the T-shirts symbolized. Although that might change if the House saw them all here together. And particularly the vampire who stood in front of them, auburn hair blowing in the wind.

“Holy shit,” I murmured, as Jonah walked toward us, then nodded at Ethan, at me.

“Jonah,” Ethan said.

“Ethan.”

“What are you doing here?” My voice was a whisper. “This isn’t exactly secret agent–type activity.”

Jonah’s smile was sly. “We’re doing our jobs,” he said as calmly as if we were discussing the weather. Maybe not this particular weather, but weather generally . . .

“We’re here to help.”

“To help?” I was having trouble processing this entire situation. “You got my messages?”

“We did. Sorry for not returning the call.” He smiled. “I figured it would be faster if we just showed up.”

“We are the Red Guard,” Jonah said, loud enough for every vampire in the House to hear him. “We exist to guard the Houses and their vampires, to keep them safe, healthy.” He glanced down at me. “And it’s time we come out of hiding and actually live up to our reputation.”

I was staggered. I’d given them a pretty solid lecture on making their organization mean something, instead of paying a lot of lip service to high ideals and secret meetings. But I hadn’t actually expected them to follow it.

“You’ve rendered her speechless,” Ethan said.

“A nearly impossible task,” Jonah said. He stepped forward, offered Ethan a hand. “We’re at your service.”

“We’re glad to have it,” Ethan said, then looked at the rest of them. “Your organization is brave and honorable, and you’re doing a brave and honorable thing here.”

A few of the vampires looked appreciative at the sentiment, like they hadn’t been sure this would be a good idea, or that Ethan wouldn’t send them running from the yard. Others looked skeptical. Understandable, given that the entire point of the RG was to be suspicious of Masters, to keep them from oppressing their Novitiates.

Jonah nodded, smiled at me. “I understand you were looking for a boat.”

Luc stepped forward to shake Jonah’s hand. “Let’s discuss the details.”

I was still staring as Luc led him into the yard, began talking with animation. The other Guards—including those who hadn’t been especially fond of me the last time we’d met—gave me acknowledging nods. None looked as angry as they had been when I’d lectured them. None looked especially friendly, either.

It didn’t matter. Right now, we didn’t need friends. We needed allies. And those were very different things.

• • •

I’d met only six sorcerers in my time: Mallory, Catcher, Paige, Sorcha, Baumgartner, and Simon, another bad egg. They’d generally been young and attractive, up-and-comer types.

The men and women standing in the lobby of the Adler Planetarium looked to be an entirely different breed. Average, middle-aged midwesterners. Men and women with dark skin and light, who wore puffy jackets against the cold, khakis, and very practical shoes. I felt overdressed in my leathers and steel.

“Bureaucrats,” Mallory whispered as we moved toward them.

That explained that.

The SWAT team had moved an e-screen into the marble lobby, which was lit with golden light from the chandeliers above us. They were gilded and old-fashioned, not unlike the lights in the first floor of City Hall. Vestiges of a different era in Chicago.

“Ah,” said a pale man of average height with silvery hair and a paunch above his belt. He wore khakis and snow boots, and a puffy jacket that looked warm, but not conducive to fighting. “You’re here.”

This was Al Baumgartner, the head of the Order.

He walked toward us, the others in the room taking the opportunity to look us over. Their glances, from what I saw, weren’t flattering. I saw at least one pair of rolling eyes, wondered if they saw us as too “obviously” supernatural, in the same way they all appeared to be very “plainly” human.