Midnight Marked: A Chicagoland Vampires Novel (16 page)

BOOK: Midnight Marked: A Chicagoland Vampires Novel
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I hadn’t gotten in trouble much as a kid. I hated the feeling of it, the violation of trust, the sickening sense that I’d disappointed someone, the humiliation that came with having done something
wrong
. I hadn’t been the type of child who handled it well.

I felt doubly sickened tonight by the fact that I’d disappointed the relative I trusted most of all, and that disappointment was compounded by anger at Ethan. I wasn’t especially surprised, because I’d predicted right down the line
exactly
what would happen. But I was furious that my grandfather’s reputation had been impugned, and that we’d put that look in his eyes. And Jeff didn’t look so happy, either.

“Would you like to tell me exactly what happened here?”

“Words,” Ethan said. “Only an exchange of words.”

For the first time, Jeff spoke, and his tone wasn’t any more pleasant than my grandfather’s. “Nothing physical?”

“No,” Ethan said ruefully. “I didn’t get that far. The cops showed up first.”

“He told them we were stalking and threatening him,” I explained.

Jeff and my grandfather exchanged a glance.

“Reed’s already called the CPD once,” my grandfather said. “That adds credence to his contention this is a pattern of bad behavior.” He looked at Ethan. “Did you come here specifically to piss him off? Specifically to get arrested? Because if that was your plan, I’d say you accomplished it.”

“We had our reasons,” Ethan said.

My grandfather lifted his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

“He sent her a note,” Ethan finally said. “A threatening note.”

“A direct threat?”

“Implicit.”

My grandfather didn’t roll his eyes, but that looked like a close call. “Goading you to act, just as you’ve done?”

“I did what I thought was best.”

My grandfather sighed, patted Ethan’s arm. “I don’t doubt that, son, but there are times to fight, and times to wait. This was one of the latter.”

There was something odd about my grandfather, a man in his seventies, referring to a four-hundred-year-old vampire as “son.” But the dynamic worked.

“You know this is part of a bigger plan,” Ethan insisted.

“I know what kind of man Reed is, and I’m not alone. There are others on the force—Detective Jacobs, for one—who agree with us, who understand. But, by God, you’re playing right into his hands. You’re proving the point he’s apparently decided to make—that he’s a businessman who’s doing right by this city, and you’re unstable monsters with a personal vendetta. You’re too smart for antics like this, and I’d say the same thing about your trip to Hellriver last night.”

“We wanted to get out before the CPD arrived,” Ethan said.

My grandfather looked dubious. “While I’m sure that was part of the motivation, I doubt that was all of it.”

Ethan had to know my grandfather was goading him to answer, but he obliged. “I was hoping Cyrius Lore would get away, tell Reed.”

“You thought you’d provoke him to act.”

“I want him to come at me.” Ethan pushed his hands through his hair. “I want him to come at me like a man with some courage.”

“And there’s the fault in your logic,” my grandfather said. “A man like Reed doesn’t have courage, not in the way you mean. He has
soldiers
. He has men who fight his battles for him.”

Ethan took a slow, heavy breath. “It was my call, not hers, and I take responsibility for it.”

My grandfather nodded, acknowledging the admission, then looked at me. “You’re unusually quiet.”

Because I was seething with anger. But there was nothing to gain in airing that anger in front of Jeff and my grandfather.

I settled on “It’s been a long night.”

My grandfather watched me for a moment before nodding. He could probably read my face, understood Ethan and I would have words later.

“Did you find anything in Hellriver?” Ethan asked, bringing my grandfather’s attention back to him.

“No. They’d cleared out the entire building other than a few pieces of furniture. If there was anything that tied the building to Reed, it was gone by the time we got there.”

“Damn,” Ethan said. “There’d been file boxes in the dock area. Dozens of them. Merit had suspected it was paperwork, maybe records of improper business dealings by Reed.”

My grandfather’s eyebrows lifted. “I don’t suppose I need to tell you that we might have gotten to it if you’d phoned us earlier.”

“You do not,” Ethan said. “That was also my call.”

“Next time,” my grandfather said, “make better calls.”

The cops walked back to us again. “Mr. Merit, we need to get these two to the station, get them processed. You know how it goes.” The CPD might have given my grandfather some deference, but we were still criminals.

“I do,” my grandfather said, then glanced at Ethan. “I’ll warn Malik. And have them put the House on alert. Just in case.”

•   •   •

We were driven to the nearest station in the back of a cruiser, processed, and separated, stuck in separate rooms for interviews.

My room was small, with a hard tile floor and a small table with four chairs. The wall beside the door was mirrored. Probably two-way glass so people in the hallway could look in on the woman in the fancy party dress who was mentally kicking her boyfriend.

I was a well-dressed cautionary tale.

I’d been sitting alone for fifteen minutes when the door opened. Instinctively, I sat up straight.

The woman who walked in was tall and slender with dark skin, wavy brown hair, and very serious brown eyes. She wore dark trousers, and a cream silk top beneath a fitted taupe blazer that curled into pleats across the bottom, showing long and elegant legs. There were pearls at her ears and throat, and a no-nonsense handbag on her arm. She set down the bag and a leather padfolio on the table, pulled out a chair for herself, and sat down.

“You’re Merit.” Her expression was as no-nonsense as the bag.

I nodded.

“I’m Jennifer Jacobs. Arthur Jacobs’s daughter.”

Arthur Jacobs was the CPD detective and ally my grandfather had mentioned. He’d actually been the cop who responded to Reed’s previous call.

“Did he send you?” I asked.

“He asked me to check in on you, make sure you’re all right. I’m an attorney,” she said, checking her phone when it buzzed, then sliding it back into a slim pocket on the side of her purse. “Not your attorney. I’m not offering you representation, nor am I representing you with respect to any criminal complaint that Adrien Reed may file. I’m just doing my father a favor.”

A favor, by her tone and lengthy disclaimer, that she wasn’t thrilled about. But since she was here, I could be gracious.

“Then thanks to you both. It’s nice to meet you, if under these circumstances.”

Jennifer didn’t respond, but took a good look at me, then linked her hands on the table.

“I’m going to tell you something, Merit,” she said, her gaze direct. “My father is a good cop. A good father and a good cop. He doesn’t need trouble.”

I was getting tired of this speech. “We haven’t brought him any trouble.”

“All evidence to the contrary.” She sat back in the chair, crossed one leg over the other. “He has some kind of affinity for supernaturals, probably because he’s friends with Chuck Merit. He should be captain right now. Was close to it, until he began involving himself in supernatural affairs.”

“In my eyes, that’s something to respect him for.”

“In my eyes, it’s something that could get him killed.”

And there it was. I sympathized, but I was sick of taking undeserved blame.

“We’re not troublemakers, although our enemies enjoy painting us that way. They also enjoy targeting us because of who we are, because we’re different. I have a great deal of respect for your father, because he understands that. I’m sorry you have to worry for him. I worry for my grandfather. But their involvement is their choice.”

“You’re frank,” she said.

“I don’t see the point of not being frank.” My voice softened, considering what her family had recently been through. “I’m very sorry about your brother. I understand he was a wonderful young man.”

Her brother, Brett, had been targeted by a serial killer whose latent crazy had been triggered by unrequited love.

Jennifer’s expression tightened. “That should help you understand my concern.”

“I understand it, but I didn’t cause it, and I’m not sure what you think I could possibly do about it.”

“Don’t involve him in your troublemaking.”

I linked my hands on the table, leaned forward. “Ms. Jacobs, I don’t know you. I don’t know your father very well, but like I said, I respect him. His intelligence, his sense of fairness, and his ability to think critically about supernaturals. I would suggest you spend a little less time accusing vampires and a little more time listening to what he actually has to say. Your attitude? It’s exactly what he’s fighting against.”

Her eyes flashed. “I’m not concerned about your people. I’m concerned with mine, as they aren’t immortal. Stay away from my father, and we won’t have any problems.”

She rose, slipping her handbag over her arm before grabbing the notebook. “I’ll advise my father that conditions here are fine, and you’re awaiting your attorney’s arrival. That should fulfill my part of the bargain.”

She walked to the door, glanced back. “Stay away from him.”

And with that, she walked out.

Much like the flowers at the Botanic Garden, nourished by the warmth of spring, our list of enemies was growing.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

FIRST, KILL ALL THE VAMPIRES

T
he House’s lawyers arrived—a bevy of men and women in smart black suits (of course) who assured me everything would be fine.

They asked me to relay what had happened; four of them took notes while one asked the questions. They explained the process, promised I’d be out on bail in no time, and told me to sit tight, that they’d get the wheels of justice moving.

Having gotten my mandated meeting with counsel, I was then placed in a holding cell for supernaturals. Ethan was already there, sitting on a bench that cantilevered out of the wall. He jumped to his feet when I entered, checking me for injuries.

You’re all right?

I’m fine,
I said, taking a seat beside him on the bench.
Arthur Jacobs’s daughter, Jennifer, came by to explain how unhappy she is that we’re involving her father in supernatural affairs.

His eyebrows lifted in surprise.
What?

She’s an attorney. He asked her to look in on us. She decided to take advantage of the situation.

I wasn’t aware we controlled his behavior.
His voice was flat as a windless sea.

I’m sure she realizes that. And yet . . .

And yet it’s easier to blame the monster in front of you than the human with free will. I have apologies to make,
Ethan said,
but they are not to her.

I didn’t disagree with that, and since he had plenty of apologizing to do to me, I wished him luck with it.

He was going to need it.

•   •   •

We waited another hour, sharing the cell with a drunk shifter who was snoring on the floor, the smell of cheap booze obvious even a few feet away, and two River nymphs with torn dresses and black eyes. River nymphs managed the ebb and flow of the Chicago River. They were petite and busty and favored high heels, short dresses, and candy-colored convertibles. Nymphs ran hot and cold, and not much in between. The heat probably explained the injuries. But whatever animosity had been between them faded when we walked in. At the sight of us, they huddled together, enemies bonding to dish about the disheveled vampires in party clothes.

At the end of that hour, hard-soled shoes clapped toward us. A female officer with pale skin and dark hair pulled into a messy bun pointed at us, then unlocked and slid open the barred door. “You’re free to go.”

“Bond was posted?” Ethan asked, rising and walking forward.

“No bond necessary. Mr. Reed isn’t going to press charges.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, but I wasn’t surprised in the least. Reed couldn’t torture us if we were locked away. He’d get more enjoyment from having us freed, forcing us to watch his ascendancy.

We signed some paperwork, picked up our personal effects, and headed outside. Jeff stood in front of the Audi, which he must have driven over from the Botanic Garden. Shifter or not, he was a stand-up man. And by his expression, still very irritated.

“You all right?” he asked, looking us over.

“We are,” Ethan said. “Thank you for bringing the car, and for coming earlier. Especially considering . . .” Ethan didn’t have to mention the item in consideration—the fact that we were currently fighting with Jeff’s alpha.

Jeff nodded. “Pack’s still a democracy. I didn’t know about the Circle; obviously, I’d have mentioned it.” He sounded mildly perturbed about the fact that he hadn’t known. Understandable, since he’d been among the group of us who’d had to track it down.

“And I’m not saying I agree or disagree with Gabe,” he added, lest we think he was completely on our side. He looked pointedly at Ethan. “Being a leader means making decisions that, in hindsight, look regrettable.”

A smile was not appropriate, so I bit it back. Jeff was usually too agreeable for his alpha side to pop out, but it would be wrong to forget he was still, literally and figuratively, a tiger.

“It’s worth saying again that we appreciate your help. And perhaps I should get Merit back to the car before she decides to leave with you.”

“It’s a close call,” I agreed.

Jeff nodded, handed Ethan the keys.

“Do you need a ride?” Ethan asked.

Jeff glanced back at the car. “Even if I did, there’s no room in the car for me. But no. Fallon’s waiting.” He gestured to a motorcycle parked a few stalls away. A petite figure in black leather and a matching helmet revved the bike with a flick of her wrist.

Jeff smiled, magic and love blooming in the air.

“I’ll be in touch tomorrow about the alchemy,” he said, shifting his attention back to me. “I’ve been talking to Paige.”

It was another shot, and a completely fair one. Reed had distracted us, which was probably part of his plan.

“I’m also working on the safe-deposit box key. I’m about sixty percent through the first search of bank records but haven’t found anything yet.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I plan to offer my help to Paige as soon as I get back to the House.” And out of the dress and heels. What novelty there’d been had completely worn off.

“Where’s Catcher tonight?” I asked. “It’s unlike him to miss a chance to bitch at us.”

Jeff nearly smiled, which was good enough for me. “He’s following up with the Order again. Still trying to confirm they don’t have any information about our alchemist. He made the trip to Milwaukee in person.” He checked his watch. “Probably on his way back.”

“Not the wisest move to induce a pissed-off sorcerer to travel to see you,” Ethan said.

“No,” Jeff said. “It wasn’t. But then, you usually have better sense, too.”

I snorted. “I think he sank your battleship.”

“Maybe Reed is making everyone crazy,” Ethan said.

“Speaking of which,” I said, gesturing to the station, “did you know there are River nymphs in there?”

Jeff nodded. “We’re letting them cool off. They won’t press charges against each other, so they’ll be released when they calm down.”

“Already in process,” I said. “They were gossiping about us when we left.”

“Just doing our part,” Ethan said. “Thank you again, Jeff. I’ll try to get Merit back to Cadogan House without further trouble. And perhaps we could meet at dusk to discuss what we’ve all learned so far?”

Jeff nodded. “I’ll tell Chuck, Catcher.” He squeezed my hand before walking toward the bike, then climbed on the bike behind Fallon and put on the helmet she offered him. More engine revving, and they drove away.

“I believe I pissed off your knight in shining armor,” Ethan said.

“Probably so,” I said, and gathered up voluminous silk to slide into the passenger seat. The anger I’d pushed down began to bubble up again. “He’s protective of me, and I got arrested, so . . .”

“Would you like me to say you told me so?”

“That won’t change anything.”

“No,” Ethan said, closing the door. “It won’t.”

It was the first time we’d been alone together since we arrived at the Garden, and my first opportunity to vent. “You put my father and my grandfather in a hell of a position, and you put us right into Reed’s hands. We made our reputation worse—and we’re damn lucky there weren’t paparazzi outside the station waiting to reveal our arrest to the world.”

“He got under my skin.”

“And that’s no excuse. You have centuries more experience. You know better. You are better.” Tears stung my eyes. “That was absolutely humiliating.”

“He thinks he’s invincible.” His voice was measured, still edged with fury. “He thinks he’s untouchable. None of that will change if we go along to get along. If we wait for someone else to do the dirty work. Nothing will change until someone calls him out.” He looked at me. “If we don’t do it, who will?”

“I don’t disagree with you. But he’s powerful, well protected, and very savvy.” I looked at Ethan. “He plays games with people, Ethan. He did it with Celina. He did it with the vampire pretending to be Balthasar. That’s who he is. He’s a narcissist, an opportunist, and a criminal entrepreneur. But maybe most of all, he’s a psychopath. He likes to torture people, take advantage of their vulnerabilities. Their insecurities. We have to be smarter than that. We can’t just play into his hands.”

“I should have listened to you. I didn’t, and I should have. I may be wise in the ways of supernaturals, but you’re better with humans.”

In fairness, I’d been one about four hundred years more recently than him.

“Now you’re just kissing my ass,” I said.

“I am trying my damnedest.” He paused. “Is it working?”

“No.”

He glanced at me, reached out to push a lock of hair behind my ear. “You know I lost my family once. You are my family now, Merit. I will not lose you.”

“I still
have
a family, Ethan. They certainly aren’t perfect, but I won’t lose them to a man like Reed.” I looked at him. “And I won’t have them used.”

I could practically see his frustration rising again. “It was one phone call,” he said. “Your father owes you that much and more.”

“That was my decision to make. Not yours.”

“As you reminded Jennifer Jacobs, no one forced him to do as I asked.”

I nearly punched him. Right then and there, I nearly plowed a fist into that gorgeous face for turning that around on me. Even if he was right.

Ethan started the car, backed onto the road. “Be angry with me if you must, Sentinel. I can bear it. But Adrien Reed will not lay a hand on you.”

•   •   •

It was past midnight when we rolled back into the Cadogan garage.

Ethan went to his office to update Malik and Luc.

I went upstairs to update my ensemble. The gown had done its part, whatever that part might have been. I placed it on the bed, where laundry or dry-cleaning elves (or a vampire directed by Helen, more like) would attempt to clean and repair it.

I changed into jeans and a navy T-shirt with
CADOGAN
in white block letters across the front to head back to the library.

My phone beeped as I was closing the door. I found a message from Jonah:
HEARD ABOUT ARREST. CAL
L IF YOU NEED TO. AND
PHOTO NOT FAMILIAR.

Word of our near incarceration had apparently spread. Jonah hadn’t been in a hurry to get back to me about the Rogue, and I hadn’t thought to follow up. But I’d have to deal with him and the RG’s baggage later.

I made it down the flight of stairs before my phone buzzed again, this time with a phone call. I pulled it out but didn’t recognize the number. “This is Merit.”

“Hi, Merit. It’s Annabelle—the necromancer. You told me to call if I found something alchemical.”

My heart began to pound with anticipation. “Hi, Annabelle. What did you find?”

“I’m not entirely sure. But you might want to get here sooner rather than later.”

My phone beeped again, signaling the receipt of an image. I scanned the screen and the photograph she’d forwarded—and the dozens of alchemical symbols pictured there.

“We’ll be right there,” I promised.

Once again, the library would have to wait.

•   •   •

Ethan was Master of the House and one of the twelve members of America’s reigning vampire council.

But there was nothing vaguely obedient—or even very polite—in the angry stares Luc and Malik sent him from their unified front in Ethan’s office. They stood side by side, a wall of frustration matched against the Master who’d endangered himself. As much as they hated Reed, they were pissed at Ethan.

Ethan hadn’t changed clothes, but he’d taken off the bow tie and jacket, unbuttoned the top of his shirt. The coiffing he’d done earlier had loosened its grip on his hair, and it waved like golden sunlight around his face, highlighting sharp cheekbones and firm mouth.

“We’ve taken a big enough hit tonight,” Luc said. “You and Merit, particularly, don’t need to take another risk by going out again.”

“And there are supplicants in the foyer,” Malik pointed out.

“There are,” Ethan acknowledged. “And I will apologize to them personally. But we can’t ignore another instance of alchemy. Especially since it seems what we have upstairs is only part of the story.”

“You could send someone else,” Luc pointed out.

Ethan shook his head. “Merit found the first alchemy, and she’s familiar with the symbols. She has a rapport with Annabelle, and she can defend herself if the sorcerer shows up.” He slid his gaze to me, over the invisible wall between us. “And she’s not leaving without me.

“Yes, I let Reed provoke me, and he’ll almost certainly try again. We can’t stop that until we stop him. But if we stay here and put our heads in the sand—we also play into his hands. That’s what has allowed him to gain as much power as he currently holds. That’s what he’s counting on.”

Malik and Luc looked at each other, and then Luc slid his gaze to me. “Sentinel, your analysis?”

“As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right.”

“Not entirely flattering,” Ethan murmured, rolling up one of his shirtsleeves.

“Wasn’t meant to be,” I assured him, the tension still heavy between us. I looked at Luc and Malik. “He knows how to provoke us, how to play with emotions. That’s what he does. It’s what he’s good at.”

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