Drink Deep (15 page)
Authors: Chloe Neill
“She did have a theory,” I began, and offered Jeff an apologetic glance. “She thinks it’s the combination of shifters and nymphs in town that made the magic. Their elemental magics working together or against each other, and the result of all that power in one place, she thought.”
Jeff looked taken aback. “That’s a new one.”
“Is that even possible?” my grandfather asked. “That the number of sups would create spontaneous magic?”
Jeff frowned and scratched absently at his head. “I guess it’s theoretically possible there’d be some lambent magic spillage, but you’d expect to see a positive increase in magic—not something that’s sucking the magic out of the city.”
“Unless it’s like the effect of a tsunami,” Catcher suggested. “Is it possible the shifters being together in one place pulled out so much magic the lake began to pull it back in?”
Jeff shook his head. “If that were true, we’d shift ocean currents every time we met in Aurora or anywhere else.” He glanced at me. “I’m not aware of any instance of a magical vacuum being created because too many shifters got together. This would be a first.”
His tone was polite, but his expression made clear he didn’t buy Lorelei’s theory.
“I didn’t really buy it either,” I said. “Although I like even less the fact that we have no explanation for something this powerful.”
“We may not have an explanat ce act thation,” my grandfather said, “but at least we have a reprieve. I know times are not easy at the House. Let us do the heavy lifting on the rest of the investigation.”
My lip curled at the implicit mention of Frank. “I can’t schedule my work based on what the GP might say. They’re going to criticize me regardless, so I have to do the right thing by the House and by the city. And if worse comes to worst . . .”
“Merit,” Jeff quietly said, “you don’t want to be cast out of the House.”
“No, I don’t,” I agreed. “But I’m not going to act like there’s nothing going on when, clearly, something is brewing. I can’t let the city go to hell because the receiver has his head up his ass. Sorry, Grandpa,” I added about the language.
He patted my back. “We’ll carry the burden,” he said. “You keep your head down and do your job. I know how hard it’s been for you lately. How hard it must be without Ethan. He was a good man—a good Master for his people. But tough times don’t last forever, and Malik will need you when he’s free and clear of the receiver.”
It was great advice; it was just going to be hard to follow. Ethan hadn’t exactly trained me to sit on the sidelines and watch a problem unfold. He’d taught me to strategize and investigate. To soldier. And what soldier bowed out because the pressure was too high? Sure, following orders was important, but a soldier still had to rely on her own conscience, right?
Marjorie peeked into the office and knocked on the open door, worry in her expression. “Chuck,” she said. “I think you’d better come out here.”
Frowning, my grandfather stood up and walked to the door. After exchanging a glance, Catcher, Jeff, and I followed. We stood at the door, each of our heads poking around the door frame at various heights, like kids in a slapstick comedy.
My grandfather stood in the hallway, Marjorie beside him, their gazes on the front door. A nondescript black SUV was parked outside. It was the kind of SUV that moved in the dark of night, that you didn’t know was coming until the passengers were already out of the car with guns . . . or worse.
“McKetrick?” I wondered.
“I wish,” Marjorie spit out. “At least then I’d see some action.”
We all stared at her.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said with a thick Chicagoan accent, the word sounding more like “sarry” than “sorry.”
“Pushing paper on sups just gets a little dull around here sometimes, ya know? But, no. It’s not McKetrick, who I understand is a very bad person. Horrible.” She crossed herself. “God bless us all. It’s the mayor.”
“Turn off the alarm,” my grandfather said, and Catcher stepped into the hallway, moved to the keypad and uncoded the lock.
“Did you know she was coming?” I quietly asked.
My grandfather shook his head. “It’s a surprise to me.”
We waited for her arrival in a heavy, worrisome silence. The mayor showing up unannounced at the Ombudsman’s office probably didn’t portend anything good.
She was preceded to the door by two beefy security guards. When they opened it, she walked inside and peered around. She wore a burgundy pantsuit, her hair flipped at the bottom into an odd curl, her expression disdainful. Chunky costume jewelry was ce jnd. Sh draped around her neck and wrists, and there were chunky rings on her fingers.
After a moment of disdainful review of the office, she made eye contact with my grandfather. “Mr. Merit.”
“Madame Mayor,” he said in greeting.
“I hear you and your . . .
staff
. . . have been using the city’s resources for private helicopter rides.”
staff
. . . have been using the city’s resources for private helicopter rides.”
He blinked back surprise. “Ma’am, if you have budgetary concerns, we can move to my office and discuss them.”
“I’m on a bit of a schedule, Mr. Merit. I’d prefer an answer now.”
My grandfather wet his lips, then continued. “As detailed in my requisition report, we needed a ride to Bear Island. We believed its resident might have been involved with the lake.”
“And was she?”
Choose your words carefully
, I thought.
You don’t want to give her the ammunition and the gun, too.
, I thought.
You don’t want to give her the ammunition and the gun, too.
“As I’m sure you’ve seen, the lake is back to normal.”
She frowned, and it wasn’t an attractive look on her. Diane Kowalczyk was the kind of person who looked good—and even then, not great—only when she was smiling with political vigor.
“Mr. Merit,” she finally said, “my job is not to waste taxpayer dollars kowtowing to supernatural boogeymen. My job is to ensure the resources of this city are used wisely.”
“My apologies, Madame Mayor,” my grandfather diplomatically said. “If you’d prefer, the cost of using the helicopter can be doubly removed from our budget for the year. As always, we’ll have a surplus, and we’ll return that money to the city.”
The mayor smiled thinly—and meanly. “That won’t be necessary. You see, Mr. Merit, effective today, you have no more budget.”
My jaw dropped, as did Catcher’s, Jeff’s, and Marjorie’s. The hallway filled with uncomfortable magic. The mayor and her guards seemed oblivious to it, and she stared us down with an evil glint of triumph in her eye.
To his credit, my grandfather’s expression stayed neutral. “And what does that mean, Madame Mayor?”
“It means the position of Ombudsman is hereby suspended. Your employees are on administrative leave, and your office will be closed until further notice.”
“You can’t just—” Jeff started, but my grandfather held up a hand, and then he made me proud.
“I have held my tongue,” he said. “Many times, over many issues, I have held my tongue. I walked the streets of this city for a long time—before you were even born into it, I’d imagine. Every man and woman who walks this earth must make his or her own way. And I see you’re trying to do what you believe is correct. But you couldn’t possibly be more wrong. The supernatural populations of this city need a friend now more than ever. Now is the time to foster mutual understanding, not leave supernatural populations adrift in a sea of hostility.”
“That hostility is their fault and their burden,” she retorted. “They made their bed.”
“Mayor Tate made their bed,” he corrected.
The mayor rolled her eyes. “This city no longer tolerates favoritism, whatever label you might put on it, and however well you sell that favoritism to the special int ce sThis cierests that support it.”
The demagoguery in her tone and the gleam in her eyes had Future Presidential Candidate written all over them.
“And if humans attack us?” I asked her. “If they gather up their stakes and pitchforks—or their guns—and rise against the Houses, will that be tolerated? Will they be treated with impunity?”
She shifted her gaze to me, the peon who’d bothered her with a practical question. “That is the kind of exaggeration that has turned our city into a national laughingstock. This is the real world, and we have more important concerns than whether vampires deserve special treatment.”
“We’ll appeal this to the city council,” Jeff said. “We’ll talk to our alderman.”
“And they’ll tell you the same thing that I have. It’s time we prioritize, Mr. Merit. This is how I’m starting that process. You have twenty-four hours to clean out your offices—and you might recommend your constituents plan on getting their registration papers in order. Good night.”
With that, she turned on her heel and walked outside again, her bodyguards behind her.
“I don’t use this word lightly,” Marjorie said, “but that woman is a stone-cold bitch.”
My grandfather wouldn’t be outdone by Marjorie’s swear. He let loose a string of curses the likes of which I’d never heard before. There were words in there I couldn’t believe
he’d
ever heard before.
he’d
ever heard before.
“If she thinks,” he finally said through gritted teeth, “I’m going to take this lying down, she has another think coming. I am not going to destroy all the forward progress we’ve made for the sups of this city for the sake of her presidential campaign.”
“She can’t do this,” Jeff said. “Not unilaterally. It’s not right.”
“That woman couldn’t differentiate ‘right’ from a hole in the ground,” my grandfather said. “But I will be damned if that’s the end of us.”
The five of us stood in silence in the hallway.
“You know,” Catcher finally said, “there may be a bright side to this.”
“What’s that?” my grandfather asked.
Catcher looked at my grandfather with a gleam in his eyes.
“Every decision you’ve made in the last four years you’ve made with the mayor in mind. We were beholden to the position, which means anyone who relied on the office was beholden. We may not have governmental sponsorship anymore—but we also don’t have government repression,” Catcher said. “We’ve started from less. Four years ago, we had no contacts, no friends, and no legitimacy. Sups were afraid of us. She might be able to take away our funding, but she can’t turn back time.”
My grandfather smiled, just a little. “Mr. Bell, you may have a point there.”
I walked back to my car, leaving Jeff, Catcher, Marjorie, and my grandfather to pack their boxes and consider their options. Given the gleam in my grandfather’s eye, I had no doubt he’d find another solution. The four of them—and their secret vampire employee—would probably have a new office set up before the sun rose again. I wondered if Grandpa would make them meatloaf to celebrate? He made a fantastic meatloaf.
Meatloaf on my mind, I pulled out my phone. I called Kelley and advised her m cadvg Jey grandfather was going to look further into the lake’s darkening. I had also promised Jonah a debriefing. And yes, I’d let my grandfather do the heavy lifting about the lake problem, but I wasn’t going to ignore the situation, especially now.
“Are you done with your project?” I asked when Jonah answered my call.
“I am. Let’s get together and debrief. Where are you?”
“South side. Just leaving my grandfather’s office. Where are you?”
“Grey House. I don’t want to meet here, obviously, and I’m not going anywhere near Cadogan. Too many protestors.” He was quiet for a moment. “How about the Midway? We’ll have some privacy there.”
Midway Plaisance Park was a mile-long strip of green space that ran east-west across the city near the U of C campus. It had been carved out for the 1893 Columbian Exposition, the World’s Fair that made Chicago the “White City.”
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”
“See you then.”
I hung up the phone and tossed it into the passenger seat, then stared at it for a moment. It was times like these I’d normally have called Ethan to debrief. Even if he didn’t know precisely what to do, he’d have some kind of suggestion. He had hundreds of years of experience as a vampire and a ridiculously keen grasp of politics and strategy—even if that got him into trouble sometimes.
I’m sure Jonah would have valuable advice, as well; I wouldn’t have agreed to the meeting otherwise. But Ethan and I had a camaraderie. A style. We’d learned how to work together. Ethan and I had an intimacy born of shared experiences; Jonah and I simply didn’t. Maybe, if in some strange new world I accepted the RG’s offer and he became my partner, it would develop. But tonight . . .
Tonight, I missed Ethan.
Seeking oblivion, I pulled my gaze from the phone and flipped on the radio. Snow Patrol blasted through the speakers, and although I turned it down to a slightly less eardrum-shattering volume, I left it loud enough to wipe unpleasant thoughts from my mind. The band sang about bravery and taking difficult steps, even if you were afraid to do so. I pretended the universe was daring me to be brave, to step into this new life as I’d done once before. The last time—from graduate student to warrior for Cadogan House. This time—from constant companion of the Master of that House to . . .
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