Biting Bad: A Chicagoland Vampires Novel (15 page)

BOOK: Biting Bad: A Chicagoland Vampires Novel
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“I hope that’s all right with you.”

“Of course,” I said. “They’ll want to be together. Especially after tonight.”

“My thoughts exactly.” He looked at Margot. “We’ll be in the Ops Room.”

Margot saluted with the pen in her hand.

C
hapter Ten

THE SLUMBER PARTY

I
n the basement, the Ops Room buzzed with activity. Juliet, Kelley, Malik, and Luc were already inside, and the whiteboard was in position.

“Grey House guards?” Ethan asked, exchanging a manly patting of backs with Malik, who’d undoubtedly been worried for Ethan’s safety.

“They’re on-site and getting settled in,” Luc said. “We gave them a few minutes.”

Ethan nodded, then glanced at Malik. “Any trouble here while we were gone?”

“Not a hint. No rioters. No attempts to jump the fence. No crank phone calls. You four had all the fun.” He glanced at me with concern. “You were cut?”

“Yeah, but I’m okay. Just a little sore.”

Devilishness shined in Malik’s eyes. “What was the weapon again? Paring knife? Melon baller?” He squeezed his thumb and forefinger together. “One of those cinnamon-flavored toothpicks?”

I gave Luc, the only one who’d have had time to tell Malik about the weapon of choice, a very flat look. “Really.”

He winked. “I told him the rioter used a spatula. He got to the rest on his own.”

“It was a chef’s knife,” I said, holding my hands about a foot apart. “And a very large one.”

“That’s what she said,” Ethan murmured.

Maybe my sarcasm was catching.

“I did get a call from one Nicholas Breckenridge. He’s asked about the riots’ potential impact on the House getting a lengthy feature.”

Ethan looked very satisfied. “That was Merit’s idea. Our effort to change public opinion.”

“Nice thought,” Malik said, and I nodded.

“Thanks.”

“Give him whatever information he wants,” Ethan said. “I’ll apprise Scott. No interviews with individual vampires unless they specifically consent, but he’s welcome to ask within the halls of the House.”

Malik nodded, then glanced back at the door. “Speaking of access to the House, look who’s darkening our door.”

I glanced back, expecting to see the Grey House guards, but found a pleasant surprise. Jeff, Catcher, and my grandfather stood in the doorway, still bundled up in scarves and warm coats. Catcher must have picked up my grandfather and brought him back to Hyde Park. I smiled and walked toward them, accepting a very squeezy hug from Jeff.

“We heard there was a party,” he said. “And we decided to crash it.”

“Actually, we heard you were discussing the riots,” my grandfather said, giving Jeff an amused glance. “I’m not sure we’ll have a lot to offer, but we thought we’d chip in what we could.”

“It was nice of you to come all this way,” I said. “We appreciate it.”

Catcher looked over my ensemble. “Sullivan’s letting you dress down tonight?”

I lifted my shirt and showed them the scar across my belly. My grandfather looked mightily alarmed.

“Some nights, I’m not sure if I should be glad that you’re immortal, or rueful about it,” he said.

“We often have similar thoughts,” Ethan said, walking toward us. He shook my grandfather’s hand.

“How’d you get the cut?” Catcher asked.

“Rioter with a blade.”

“Paring knife,” Ethan said.

“It was a chef’s knife,”
I pointedly said, giving Ethan the evil eye. “I tripped, and he got the jump on me. Literally.”

“I’m glad you’re all right,” my grandfather said, glancing at Ethan. “Perhaps a position change to House librarian?”

“That job is filled,” I said, slipping my arm through his. “I’m stuck at Sentinel, unfortunately. But I do have a knight in shining armor. Ethan rescued me. Again.”

Ethan smiled. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Here, Mr. Merit,” Lindsey said, standing. “Take my chair.”

I expected my grandfather to protest; he was in his sixties, but still proud and active, and he was a former cop, after all. But instead he nodded and smiled.

“Thank you, hon,” he said. “I appreciate that.”

Lindsey gave me a wink as she scooted from her seat and took a spot standing near the wall. My grandfather sat down, a little slower than usual, and with a little more relief in his eyes.

“You’re all right?” I asked, concern in mine.

He patted my hand. “Perfectly fine. It’s just been a long day.”

He sought to soothe me, but the reminder was still poignant: As a vampire, I was immortal. My friends and family weren’t. My grandfather, always vibrant and vital, would inevitably age, and eventually I’d lose him.

I looked away before my eyes could fill with tears, but my heart was heavy.

Be still, Sentinel,
said a voice in my head.

I glanced at Ethan, who stood a few feet away. He spoke with Luc, but his thoughts were on me. He must have seen the fear in my eyes.

Be grateful for your immorality, but do not deny them the honor of their mortality.

I nodded, but the vise around my heart didn’t ease.

Scott appeared in the doorway, six guards, including Jonah, behind him. I recognized a couple—Grey House guards named Danny and Jeremy. Most of the group wore navy blue peacoats over jeans and boots. A bit, I assumed, of the Grey House uniform.

“I think we’re all here,” Ethan said to Scott.

Scott nodded. “Then let’s get this show on the road.”


To be honest, the atmosphere was awkward. There were a lot of vampires squeezed into the Ops Room, and we played for two different teams. The Grey House guards looked tired and uncomfortable. The Cadogan House guards looked nervous: We were responsible for our House’s security, and now the security of vampires we didn’t know that well.

Kelley, Lindsey, Juliet, and I had nabbed seats at the conference table, along with a few of the Grey House guards. The senior staff stood in front of the projector screen like lecturers ready to teach their fang-bearing students.

“First of all,” Ethan said, glancing among the Grey House guards, “welcome to Cadogan House. I’m sorry it’s under such unfortunate circumstances, but you may consider yourselves at home here. If there’s anything you need, or if there’s something we can help you with, please feel free to ask.”

A few of the Grey House guards looked around at one another in surprise at Ethan’s magnanimity, which made me wonder how they’d perceived Cadogan House.

“This is our Operations Room,” Ethan said. “You’re welcome to be here, to talk to our guards, or to request information about House security. We recognize that, for the time being, we are housing your most precious commodity—your vampires—and we want you to feel as comfortable as possible about their safety.” Ethan nodded and looked at Scott. “I believe that’s it for my part, Scott, unless you have anything to add?”

Scott lifted his hands. “They’ve heard from me enough tonight.”

Ethan nodded at Luc, and he and Jonah moved forward.

“We’re going to review events while they’re fresh,” Jonah said. “Then we’ll dismiss for the evening.”

“Let’s start at the beginning,” Luc suggested. “Merit, you want to tell us what you found out about the first riot?”

I nodded. “The first riot hit Bryant Industries, a Blood4You distribution facility in Wicker Park. Catcher and I talked to Charla Bryant, the current CEO. She wasn’t aware of any threats against the business before the attack, but we’re keeping an eye on a potential suspect named Robin Pope.”

“Robin Pope?” asked one of the Grey House vampires. “Trim brunette?”

Ethan and I exchanged a glance. “Yes,” I said. “Do you know her?”

The vampire blushed. “Yeah. We dated for a little while. Real briefly. When I was human.”

Now that was interesting. “How long ago?”

“Three years?” he said. “Maybe four?”

That was a pretty good span of time, and I wondered how long Robin Pope could hold a grudge. “How did the relationship end?”

The Grey House guard squinted bashfully and scratched the back of his head. “Not well. I mean, it kind of just ended. Except that she kept calling. What’s her connection to all this?”

“She’s a former Bryant Industries employee,” I said. “Basically, she filed a complaint against the company because she thinks they’re conspiring with vampires.”

“She had a connection to Bryant Industries. A grudge,” Jonah said. “And the rioters targeted that facility. It also appears she had a bad breakup with one of our own, and Grey House was attacked next.”

“I don’t like coincidences,” Scott said.

“Nor do I,” Ethan agreed. “The connections suggest she’s had a hand in selecting the targets.”

“She doesn’t seem entirely stable,” I said. “We went to her apartment to ask her some questions, feigning support for anti-vamp groups, and she ran. She clearly believes vampires are a threat, and she’s identified a web of conspiracies no one else can see.” I glanced at Catcher and my grandfather. “Anything else from your end?”

My grandfather nodded. “We advised friends at the CPD that Ms. Pope should be a person of interest in their investigation. They put a car on her building and an APB on her car. She returned home about an hour ago, and they picked her up. She’s currently in an interview.”

For the first time in a couple of days, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. Her arrest wouldn’t repair the damage at Grey House, but maybe it would slow the tide of future riots.

Ethan gestured toward my grandfather. “For those of you who don’t know, this is Merit’s grandfather, Chuck Merit. Otherwise known as the city’s rightful Ombudsman. And his colleagues, Jeff Christopher—”

“The city’s best computer man,” I added.

Jeff blushed and did a faux hat tip.

“And Catcher Bell,” Ethan said, gesturing to both of them in turn. “Thank you for reaching out to the CPD.”

“Of course,” said my grandfather. “As a warning, we’re swimming uphill a bit where the CPD is concerned. We still have some allies there, but overall they’re focusing on the rioters, not the riots. I understand the administration has decided this is just public reaction to vampires, to fears their way of life is at risk.”

“We’ve been out of the closet for a while,” Lindsey said. “That’s not even logical.”

“It is to the prosecutors,” Catcher said. “After all, they can’t put society on trial, not really. But they can prosecute the handful of people who throw the bombs. That’s where the evidence is.”

“Has the mayor issued a formal statement for tonight’s riot?” Ethan asked.

“And McKetrick,” Luc said. “Pretty much the same talk as the last riot. ‘We’re incarcerating the perpetrators of these crimes,’ blah blah blah. The mayor’s toned down the anti-sup rhetoric a little, which is something. Hard to blame two riots on internal sup conflicts when the perps are all humans.”

“And McKetrick?” Scott asked.

“Still blaming it on sups, but part of that’s just jurisdictional,” Luc said. “If it doesn’t involve sups, he has no authority.” He glanced at Ethan. “As part of our protocol, we looked for connections between McKetrick and the rioters, but we haven’t found anything.”

“Not surprising,” Ethan said. “Even if he was involved, he’s remarkably careful. Consider Michael Donovan.”

“I’d rather not,” Luc said.

I looked at Jeff. “Back to Pope. Can we prove her connections to the rioters?”

“I haven’t found anything yet, but I haven’t started on tonight’s batch of arrests. There were a lot more rioters tonight.”

“Many more than in Wicker Park,” Jonah agreed. “And with slightly different tactics. In Wicker Park, the firebombing and rioting occurred simultaneously. Here, they hit us in two waves. The first—too small to trigger security—bombed the House. The rest of the rioters—the larger group—formed the second wave.”

I glanced at my grandfather. “Have the CPD interviews of the rioters turned up anything?”

He shook his head. “There’s been no progress, as far as we’re aware. They’re still refusing to answer questions. They have been repeating what they claim is Clean Chicago’s motto.”

“‘Hate is the new black’?” I guessed.

“Sic semper tyrannis,”
Catcher said. “It basically means ‘Death to tyrants.’”

“That’s what John Wilkes Booth said after he shot President Lincoln,” Ethan said darkly.

“Are we the tyrants?” I asked.

“We aren’t entirely sure,” Catcher said. “We didn’t find anything else on the Web linking the phrase to the riots or the movement, so it could just be something they came up with at the last minute.”

“So their group’s grown larger,” Ethan said, “and they have a motto. How are they recruiting?”

“We still aren’t certain,” Luc said. Luc projected a Web site onto the wall screen—a social-media site with a Clean Chicago badge.

“This was posted about two hours ago,” he said.

“Two hours ago?” asked one of the Grey House guards, a short-haired and broad-shouldered fellow muscular enough to have played offensive tackle in his former life. “After the riot?”

“We asked the same question,” Luc said. “But the account is definitely new.”

“Which means they had other ways to pull in participants before the riots,” Catcher said.

“Yes,” Luc said. “We still haven’t found any other Internet sources, but they’re clearly recruiting members through some kind of network. Could be military. Could be informal.”

“Could be hate groups,” offered one of the Grey House guards. “Preexisting network of humans who make a hobby of hatred. It can be easy to rile them up to fixate on another group.”

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