Hard Bitten (35 page)

The line went dead, so I tucked the phone away again and nibbled on my thumb as I thought it through.

Celina—well, someone I thought must be Celina—wanted a meeting in a public place. And not just a public place—a public place where thousands of humans would be milling about.

Was she hoping the crowd would give her anonymity, or was she planning on causing trouble in the middle of them?

She had to have an ulterior motive, something she wanted to pull off. Maybe a trap she hoped to spring. It was just a matter of figuring it out—or planning for all contingencies.

When I finally looked up again, I found Catcher, Jeff, and Mallory staring at me.

“Paulie Cermak,” I explained. “‘Marie’ wants to meet me at Street Fest tonight.”

Catcher and Mallory walked toward us.

“You’re going?”

“Do I have a choice? Darius is pissed, and so’s Tate.” I rolled my shoulders, muscles aching against the joint irritation of magic and tension.

“We could pretend this isn’t our problem, but that’s not going to make V go away, and it’s not going to keep our House together.”

“So what’s the downside of meeting with her?” Mallory asked.

“Other than the possibility she’ll kill me?

Darius ordered me and Ethan to stop investigating.”

Catcher’s expression was incredulous. “On what basis? Vamps are fighting in public. How could he possibly deny that there’s a problem?”

“Oh, he knows something’s going on.” I filled them in on the escapade at Grey House. “Darius just thinks it’s Tate’s problem to solve. He also apparently thinks we’re the ones creating the problem—that Celina’s acting out because we keep giving her attention.”

“Not impressed with Darius so far,” Mallory said.

“Tell me about it,” I agreed.

“Am I interrupting?”

All heads turned to the doorway. A cute guy in a T-shirt and jeans smiled back at us.

“Who’s he?” I whispered.

“That,” Mallory tiredly said, “is Simon. My tutor.”

I’ll be honest—when Mallory had said she had a tutor, I’d expected the nerdy type. Someone with an academic bent and maybe a pocket protector.

Simon was about as far from the stereotype as they got: buff and cute in a boy-next-door way, with nary a pencil to be seen. His hair was closely cropped, with blue eyes peering out beneath a strong brow.

“Well done,” I whispered to her.

“You wouldn’t say that if he was making you levitate a two-hundred-pound lead weight for the sixty-seventh time.” But she smiled politely. “Hi, Simon.”

“Mallory,” Simon said, then looked at Catcher.

“It’s been a while.”

Catcher’s expression stayed blank. He apparently wasn’t interested in a warm reunion with a member of the Order. “Simon. What brings you to the city?”

Simon gestured toward Mallory. “We’re going to take a ghost tour.”

I glanced at Mallory. “You’re going on a ghost tour?” It’s not that Mallory wasn’t interested in the occult. She was the girl with the Buffy fixation, after all. But she’d always refused when I’d asked her to go, calling the idea of a ghost tour the “fauxcult.”

“Simon,” Mallory said with an absent wave of the hand, “this is Merit and Jeff. She’s a vampire, but I’m still friends with her because I’m awesome that way, and he’s a computer nerdling extraordinaire who works with Catcher.”

Simon smiled at me, but the effect wasn’t nearly as friendly as you might have imagined.

“So, you’re Sullivan’s Sentinel.”

“I’m the Cadogan House Sentinel,” I politely corrected.

“Of course,” he said, in a tone that suggested he didn’t quite buy my clarification.

“So you’re going on a ghost tour?” Jeff asked.

“Is that some kind of magical research?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Simon said. “The hauntings aren’t all wives’ tales. Some of the locales are legitimately infested. Mallory’s task tonight will be to separate fact from fiction. It’s part of her practicum.”

Mallory frowned. “Is that today? I thought that was tomorrow.”

“Do you need to reschedule? There are some other things I could take care of while I’m in town.”

Mallory waved him off. “No, today’s fine. It’s going to be on the exam, so I might as well do it.”

“Oh, my God, you
are
Harry Potter,” I said, pointing a finger at her. “I knew it!”

She rolled her eyes, then looked at Catcher. “I guess I need to get cleaned up and go?”

Catcher frowned, clearly not comfortable sending Mallory off into the city with Simon. I couldn’t tell if the animus was all Order related or not.

Catcher looked at Simon. “Could you give us a minute?”

“Of course,” Simon said after a moment. “I’ll wait in the car. Jeff, nice to meet you. Merit, we’ll have to talk sometime. I’d love to hear more about Cadogan House.”

I gave him a noncommittal smile.

Simon walked out again. I looked back at Mallory and Catcher. “He seems pleasant enough.”

“He’s a member of the Order,” Catcher grimly said. “They’re always ‘pleasant enough’ until they’re calling you a troublemaker and stripping you of your membership.”

“Sounds like the Order and the GP have things in common,” I said.

Catcher grunted his agreement.

“Simon’s . . . okay,” Mallory said. “But speaking of the GP, you need to get out there and mix it up.” She reached out her arms, and I stepped forward into her hug. “Just like you told me,” she said, “you do what you have to do. You know right from wrong, and your instincts are good. Trust them.”

“And if I still can’t pull it off?”

She pulled back, her expression fierce.

“There’s nothing you can’t do if you put your mind to it. You just have to decide that you can.

You go and find Celina Desaulniers, and you kick her ass this time.”

Let’s hope it ended that way.

There was a limo parked outside the House when I returned, as well as the usual gaggle of protesters. I recognized two or three—the same protesters were camped out night after night, their hatred of us apparently taking priority over any other activities.

I figured the limo belonged to Tate or Darius, which didn’t thrill me. Neither was going to make my current task easier. I double-parked in front of the House and moved carefully inside, tiptoeing toward Ethan’s office.

No Ethan. But Malik stood in the middle of the room, reviewing papers. Darius was in the sitting area, chatting on a cell phone.

I smiled politely at Darius and walked toward Malik. His gaze lifted as I moved closer, and he must have noticed my frazzled expression.

“What now?”

I slid my gaze toward Darius. “In light of the GP’s directive, I thought I’d take the evening off.

Head to Street Fest. Meet some friends.”

Malik’s expression was blank only for a second before realization dawned.

“I thought I’d see if Ethan wants me to bring anything back. You know how much he loves greasy food. The man cannot get enough of battered and fried.”

Malik smiled slyly. “That he does, Sentinel. I believe you’ll find him in his apartment. He and Darius plan to meet in a few minutes, but perhaps I could entertain him while you discuss the menu?”

At my nod, Malik walked toward Darius. I headed for the door again. Darius must have ended his call, as I heard Malik ask, “Sire, have you had a chance to see the grounds? The gardens are spectacular in late summer.”

Good man,
I thought, taking the stairs two at a time until I reached the third floor.

Ethan was just walking into the hallway when I reached him. Without bothering to ask permission, I moved past him into his bedroom.

When I turned around again, he was still in the doorway, eyebrow arched.

“Malik is taking care of Darius. I need five minutes.”

“I have the distinct sense that I’m not going to enjoy those five minutes.”

“Quite possibly not.”

Either way, he walked inside and shut the door behind us, then crossed his arms over his chest.

“Tonight will be tricky,” I said.

“Because?”

“Because she may be wreaking havoc in a very public place.”

He dropped his arms, alarm in his expression.

“How public?”

“Street Fest.”

Ethan closed his eyes for a moment. “Do we have defenses?”

“Yours truly.”

Ethan’s eyes flashed open. He opened his mouth to object, then closed it again.

“Wise decision,” I complimented, “since I’m the only defense you’ve got at the moment.”

“Is this a trap?”

“Quite possibly. And it may be the kind of trap that puts us square in the public eye. But I’m going to do everything I can to prevent that—or at least make sure it’s the right kind of publicity.”

We stood there quietly while he reached his verdict.

“I assume that’s all you’re going to tell me?”

“For your sake and mine. Two words, Sullivan: plausible deniability.”

“I think I liked you better when you were a nerdy graduate student.”

“You didn’t know me as a nerdy graduate student,” I reminded him. “Well, not while I was conscious, anyway.” Technically, he’d known me as an unconscious graduate student, since he’d nursed me for three days following my transition to vampire, but I didn’t remember it.

“Anyway, if you’ve got a better idea, I’m all for it.”

He looked at me for a moment, that line of worry between his eyes. “Unfortunately, I do not.”

“Your confidence is inspiring, Sullivan.”

He gave me a flat look. “You know better than that. I trust you, Merit—implicitly—even if you don’t tell me everything. I wouldn’t let you leave the House if I didn’t—there’s too much at stake.”

“At stake. Ha-ha.” At his frown, I winced.

“Sorry. I kid when I’m nervous.”

“Are you nervous?”

I sighed and crossed my arms. “We are talking about Celina. Am I stronger than before? Yes.

But she’s still hundreds of years older than me, and I’ve barely seen what she’s capable of. Plus, we’ll be in public. Even if I can take care of myself, how am I going to take care of everyone else who’s there?”

“We could give you a perimeter of guards around the festival,” Ethan suggested.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s too risky for the House. If Darius finds out I was there, you can say I acted alone, went off on a whim. And I do have a plan in mind.”

I’d called on Jonah before; if Cadogan House was barred from acting, maybe Noah would be willing to plant a few Red Guards into the crowd.

“Anything you can share?”

I glanced up at Ethan. There was curiosity in his eyes, but no rebuke. He wanted to know what I had in mind, but he’d leave the decision to me.

“Plausible deniability,” I reminded him. “You master the House from here. Let me protect us out there.”

Ethan sighed, then put a hand on my cheek. “I don’t tell you this enough, but I am incredibly proud of the vampire you’ve become. I want you to know that.”

He leaned his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and breathed in the cottony scent of his cologne. “Be careful.”

“I will. I promise.” I pulled back and saw the flash of guilt in his eyes, but I shook my head.

“You’re doing your job,” I assured him. “Now let me do mine.”

I offered a little prayer that I had the chance to do it right this time.

It was unrealistic to think I’d find parking near Street Fest, and I didn’t have time to wait for the El. While I gave Luc the five-minute précis, Lindsey called a cab and promised to move my car. They’d all heard about Darius’s ban on my activities; they’d all agreed to help me carry them out regardless. There were times when the work needed to be done, the consequences be damned. This was one of those times, and they were all on board.

Once in the car, I messaged Noah and asked him for backup. Noah agreed almost instantaneously and told me the crew of guards would be recognizable by their clothing: they’d be wearing faux-retro MIDNIGHT HIGH

SCHOOL T-shirts.

Clever boy.

I’d considered calling Jonah, but this was a public event. That risked outing his RG

membership and putting him in the same position as me—bearing the wrath of Darius West. No, thank you.

The cabdriver didn’t stop glancing back at me, his brown eyes popping up in the rearview mirror every few seconds as if he was waiting for me to breach the plastic wall between the seats and chomp on his neck.

I’ll admit, the idea of taunting him occurred to me. But I wasn’t Celina. I had a conscience and a job to do, and fang-teasing the cabdriver wasn’t part of that job.

“This is fine,” I told him, sliding cash into the small door in the plastic when he reached the southern edge of Grant Park. I slipped out of the cab, waving the driver off when he continued to stare at me through the window.

“Humans,” I muttered, and set off toward the tents and crowds. This part of the park was empty, which gave me the chance to prepare . . .

and get panicky.

I was well trained enough to put on a brave front to Ethan, Luc, and Malik. But let’s face it—I was scared. Celina was more powerful than me, and I’d agreed to meet her in a place and at a time she’d selected. This was her game, and there was a good possibility that I wasn’t going to win .

. . or make it out in one piece.

I walked through the trees, dagger in my boot, my stomach churning with nerves, even as the smells of food drew nearer.

I reached an orange vinyl fence that surrounded the festival. I hopped it, then mingled into a group of drunken bachelorette partygoers as they made their way toward the main thoroughfare. That gave me my first view of the battleground. Columbus Drive was lined with white tents. People walked in the wide lane between them, food and drinks in hand. The air was thick with the smells of batter and beer and people and sweat and trash, and the sound of a thousand conversations and sizzling food and the country band on the make-do stage was nearly enough to overwhelm my senses.

I maneuvered out of the lane of traffic and stopped beside a booth, closing my eyes until the world settled back down to a dull roar.

“Coupons?”

I opened one eye.

A woman balancing a wailing, pink-cheeked toddler on one hip held out a stack of food coupons. “We have extra, and it’s getting late, and Kyle is just freaking out, so we need to go.”