Wild Things: A Chicagolands Vampire Novel (Chicagoland Vampires) (31 page)

“Regan is . . . Annalissa’s daughter?” Seth asked. “But that means she’s . . . Jesus,” he said again, and I heard the shuffling of fabric. He was sitting down, I imagined, and deservedly so. I probably should have advised him to do that in the first place.

“Your daughter?” I asked. “Or Dominic’s?”

“I don’t—” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know. Yes? I mean, we shared the body, but he was the one who had the affair. Is she his daughter? Is she my niece? I don’t know. Does it even matter?”

“It matters if it helps us find her. And we need to find her, Seth.”

“I’m sorry—I don’t know how to help you do that.” Frustration was clear in his voice. “Can you find her mother? Trace her that way?”

“We’re looking,” I said. “We’ll let you know if we find anything.”

“I have—he had—a daughter.” This time, he sounded awed. “If you find her . . . ,” he said.

“We’ll let you know,” I promised him. “Thank you for calling, Seth. It means a lot to us. To me.”

“You may have given me a family,” he said. “That means a lot, too.”

We ended the call, and I rubbed my hands over my face. “I swear to God, the sups in this city could have their own reality show.”

“Sex happens,” Luc said. “With demons, too.”

“I guess.” I glanced at Jeff, who was squinting at his tablet, tongue peeking from the right side of his mouth.

“Annalissa Purdey is deceased,” he said, sending a photograph of an obituary to the screen. The story used the photograph,
MOTHER
still engraved at the bottom. They must have borrowed Regan’s picture.

Luc grabbed his phone. “I’ll ask the librarian to look into her background. Maybe something will help us locate Regan.”

I nodded, glanced at Jeff. “Tammy Morelli?”

“Tammy Morelli,” he said, swiping the screen, “is a con artist.” Another photograph replaced Annalissa’s, and the woman could hardly have been more different.

Tammy Morelli had a hard-bitten look. Her hair was permed, a curly halo around a face I didn’t immediately recognize. Her nose was a little bit thicker, her chin a little bit smaller. But her eyes were the same.

“That’s Diane Kowalcyzk,” I said. “Who was she?”

“A grifter,” Jeff said, tapping the tablet again and pulling up a series of newspaper articles. “Scam” figured prominently in most of the titles.

“It appears she had a fondness for art and insurance fraud,” Jeff said.

Luc whistled, stretched back in his chair, and kicked his feet on the table. “Now, that, my friends, is something I can work with.”

•   •   •

We had a wish list, and now we had information to bargain with. It was time to use it.

With Ethan out of pocket and Malik in charge of the House, Luc was designated as the official House negotiator. He coordinated with Andrew and left for the Daley Center with the hope of reaching a deal with the mayor.

However unethical that deal would be.

We didn’t bother going back to the Ops Room. Jeff brought his screen upstairs, and vampires filled the rest of the parlors on the first floor to wait for news. Malik sat beside me on a couch, reading through a contract, one leg crossed over the other.

Lindsey paced the hallway, afraid Luc would get wrapped up in the city’s political nonsense and he’d suffer Ethan’s fate.

One hour and thirteen minutes later, I received a message from Luc.

WE’RE ON OUR WAY HOME.

I closed my eyes and breathed.

•   •   •

Everyone was excited. But most were smart enough to stay indoors and out of the cold, which sat heavy across the city.

I sat on the front stoop, my hands tucked between my knees to keep them a hairsbreadth from frostbite.

A car door slammed, and my head popped up like an animal sensing her mate. Slowly, I rose from the step.

He strode through the gate as if in slow motion, golden hair streaked with blood, a fading purple bruise across his cheekbone. His jacket was off and fisted in his hand, and his eyes burned like fiery emeralds.

Sentinel,
he silently said.
You are a sight for sore eyes.

I ran like the hounds of hell were behind me, jumping into his arms and wrapping my arms and legs around him.
Thank God,
I said.
Thank God.
I said it to the universe, to him, for him.

He embraced me with bone-crushing strength, buried his head in my neck.

I fisted my hands in his hair, tears flowing over. Tears of relief, of love, of grief. Tears of gratitude that I’d been granted yet another chance with him.

He’d told me once he wasn’t certain how many of his lives he’d already given up, or how many he had yet to give. I didn’t know, either, and didn’t much care, as long as he still had one for me.

When clapping emerged from the front door, I dropped my legs and slid down his body, averting my eyes with embarrassment.

Ethan smiled, tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “I believe they were applauding you, Sentinel.”

“You’re a liar,” I said, dropping my hot cheek to his shirt. “But I’m okay with that.”

Vampires came forward, embracing him, shaking his hand, and grinning with delight.

“It’s good to be home,” he told them. “And I don’t believe I’ll request those particular accommodations again.”

There were good-natured chuckles from the vampires.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to sit. It’s been a long night.”

While Malik and Luc helped him inside, and the rest of the vampires followed, I pulled out my phone.

Ethan was home and safe, even though he’d stepped into danger to protect others from violence he believed was his responsibility to bear. He’d trusted his instincts and the skill of the people he’d gathered around him. It was time to set him free, to let him fly and hope that he returned again.

I texted Lakshmi.
HE’S FREE AND HOME. HE SHOULD CONTROL OUR DESTINIES.

To the casual observer, the message would have read like I was asking her to do me a favor. But really, it was a receipt. An acknowledgment that Lakshmi had been correct, that Ethan was the right man for the job.

The rest of it was up to fate.

•   •   •

He made his rounds through the House, greeting his vampires, checking with Malik. By the time he found his way upstairs, I was in pajamas, in front of the fire, and his bruises were nearly healed. He closed the apartment door, placed his suit jacket across the back of a desk chair.

“And here we are again, Sentinel.” He walked forward, nearly stumbling with exhaustion, and grabbed the chair to steady himself.

I jumped to my feet. “Let me help.”

“I don’t need help,” he quietly said, but he accepted the arm I put around his waist and let me guide him to the bed. He winced as he sat down, as if every part of his body was beaten and sore.

And from the look of it as I unfastened buttons and pulled the shirt from his shoulders, it was.

“They did a number on you,” I quietly said, unsure whether I should be screaming or crying at the outrage.

“I’ll heal,” Ethan said, gaze on me as I dropped his shirt to the floor, flipped off his shoes, and helped him unbuckle his pants. Under any other circumstances, his gaze would have been demure and seductive. But tonight, he looked exhausted.

I turned off the fire, flipped off the lights, and climbed into the cool sheets beside him. The pain be damned, he pulled me against his body.

“Thank you for rescuing me, Ballerina,” Ethan drowsily said. “And if he ever so much as lays a hand on you, I will break it.”

I smiled against his chest, fell asleep to the sound of the slow and steady beating of his heart.

THREE-RING CIRCUS

T
he sun fell, and my eyes snapped open. Ethan, golden and beautiful, stood beside his bureau, already dressed and pressing cuff links into place. He’d showered and cleaned up and looked perfectly healthy.

“Good morning, Sentinel.”

“Good morning, Sullivan. Sleep well?”

“I slept,” he said with a smile. “After the last twenty-four hours, that was glorious enough.”

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, hoping for a message or update from Jeff about Regan’s position or the collection. But I found nothing.

“The kidnappings?” Ethan asked, and I nodded.

“Luc filled me in on the details last night. It was a good idea, calling Tate.”

I felt a tingle of relief. “We weren’t sure you’d see it that way.”

“If he’d hurt you, I’d have killed him myself. Fortunately, all is well. And he has a family.”

“That’s what it seems.”

“Chicago has become a very unusual world now that you’re in it, Merit.”

“I’d like it to become a smaller world. We still don’t know where Regan is.”

Ethan nodded. “Keep at it. You’ll find her eventually, and when you do, I want to know about it. I’d also like to address the House before everyone begins their days.”

A bolt of nerves shot through me. Discussions in the ballroom meant serious matters. “About?”

“The future of the House,” he cryptically said. “Get dressed.”

I gave him a salute and toddled to the shower.

•   •   •

I dressed in leathers and wore my katana, which made me the odd vampire out in Cadogan’s lovely second-floor ballroom. Most everyone else wore their black standard-issue Cadogan suits, their new teardrop medals winking atop pale skin. Luc, who wore jeans, and Helen, who wore a pink tweed suit, were exceptions to the general rule. I moved to Luc, stood beside him and the rest of the guards.

The mood of the vampires who filled the room was nervous but excited. Those who’d missed Ethan’s arrival were obviously glad to see him back, and I could hear the whispers about how their Liege had fared in custody, and if he was as healthy now as he’d been when he left.

Ethan stepped to the dais in the front of the room, Malik beside him. Thunderous applause filled the air. Ethan smiled, letting his gaze scan and catch the eyes of the Novitiates who stood before him.

Ethan allowed the applause to go on for a moment—he still had his ego—before lifting his hands. The room quieted instantly.

“It’s nice to be home again,” he said, which set off another round of hoots and applause.

“The city acted unfairly toward us, toward Grey House, toward Navarre. We have helped this city over the last few months with issues they were unable or unwilling to address, and they have done us no service by accusing us of wrongdoing.”

His gaze narrowed. “I can affirm, for better or worse, that they believe they are doing the right thing for Chicago. This is no political ploy or attempt to win votes. They, the mayor included, have been advised by many—and wrongly—that supernatural creatures are the enemy. Frankly, much of the trouble we’ve seen in the last few months can be laid at the feet of supernaturals. That fact is undeniable. But we also are the solution. And the vast majority of us are trying to do right by the city that we love.

“I’m happy to announce the mayor has agreed to begin peace talks with the city’s supernaturals. The mayor also has agreed to engage Merit’s grandfather once again as supernatural liaison on a probationary basis.”

There were happy cheers and several friendly pats on my back. I would, of course, have preferred my grandfather become a fan of daytime television instead of dealing with more supernatural drama. But he was who he was. And it wasn’t my place to deny him that.

“But there is another issue we should discuss,” he said. This time, my stomach curled into a tight knot.

“Lakshmi Rao has traveled to Chicago to meet with us as a representative of the Greenwich Presidium to set forth the GP’s demand for retribution in the death of Harold Monmonth. As you may imagine, I don’t believe their demands have any basis in reality. But the GP is what the GP is. We will hear her offer, and we will act accordingly.”

He looked at me. “The world is changing. Our world is changing. We will do our best to meet the challenges we face with honor, with bravery, with respect for those around us. That,” he said, looking across the sea of vampires again, “is what makes us Cadogan vampires.” He raised his fist into the air. “To Cadogan House!”

“To Cadogan House!”
shouted his vampires in unison.

I loved Ethan Sullivan. Lusted for him, in many instances. But I respected him most of all. And just like my grandfather, he was who he was.

It wasn’t my place to deny Ethan, either.

•   •   •

Ethan excused the House, and the vampires filed out the door, heading off to their jobs or assignments. Ethan and Malik lingered in the front of the room.

I glanced at Luc. “I’ll meet you in the Ops Room.”

He nodded. “Do that, Sentinel. We’ll be waiting for you.”

I walked toward Ethan, nodded at Malik as he clasped Ethan’s hand, then filed out with the rest of the vampires.

He still stood on the dais, a foot above me, looking down with hands on his hips. “Hello, Sentinel. I recall we’ve been in this position before.”

“So we have. When you named me Sentinel.”

He stepped down, touched a finger to the medal at my neck. “And much has passed since then.”

I looked up at him, ignored my fear, and spilled out what was in my heart. “We need a change. Vampires need a change, solid leadership, and a new direction. You could provide all that. You should challenge Darius. Make the GP respectable again.”

Shock and pleasure in his eyes, he stepped forward, wrapped his arms around me, and pressed his lips to my forehead. “There is much to be gained. And much to be lost.”

My heart pounded with sudden fear that he’d included me in the latter category.

“The future of the House is uncertain,” Ethan said, but he didn’t seem worried. He kissed me again. “For now, Sentinel, get down to the Ops Room and see about its present.”

•   •   •

I found Jeff tucked in with Luc and Lindsey at the conference room desk.

“How’s the search going?” I asked, taking a seat on the other side of the table.

“It’s not,” Jeff said, with unusual irritation. “Do you know how long it takes to search every square block of the city looking for trailers one block at a time?” He winced, ran his hands through his hair. “Sorry. I’m just frustrated. This is taking for-freaking-ever.” He looked up at me, and even Jeff—Jeff of boundless energy and good humor—looked tired. “And we don’t have any basis to narrow this down. We have no bio information, no personal information. I even looked online to see if Regan might have sent invitations electronically, and found nothing.”

I blew out a breath, looked at the whiteboard. The information about Regan was limited. Extremely limited. “She lost her mom,” I said. “Didn’t know her dad. Has some insecurities about that. Considers herself a kind of nomad, if the vardo is any indication. But what else?”

“You saw her at the grocery store,” Luc said. “Did she buy anything that might provide a hint?”

I closed my eyes, imagined her standing across the room, a grocery basket in hand. She’d looked at medical supplies, but that was all I could remember.

“She had good fashion sense. Jeans, red cape.” I glanced at Lindsey. “Come to think of it, it was an outfit you could have pulled off.”

“Of course I could have.”

“Designer handbag, too. If she likes fancy, maybe she likes fancy neighborhoods.” I glanced at Jeff. “Can you search neighborhoods based on per capita income? Maybe we can narrow down the search that way?”

Jeff nodded, was already busy tapping on his portable.

Helen appeared in the doorway, looked at me. “There’s someone here to see you,” she said. “A man.” With that announcement, she disappeared again.

I frowned, looked at Luc, who shrugged. “If she thought he was dangerous, she’d have kneed him in the balls. A fierce fighter, is Helen.”

I wasn’t sure about that, but I understood his larger point and trotted upstairs to the first floor.

Damien Garza—tall, dark, and sleek in his leather jacket—stood in the Cadogan House foyer.

“Damien,” I said, ignoring the looks of interest from the vampires in the foyer. “What are you doing here?”

“Regan,” he said. “I believe I can find her. But I need a team.”

•   •   •

He looked uncomfortable at the conference room table, his head four inches higher than anyone else’s. The fact that we were staring at him probably didn’t help.

“How’s Boo?” I asked, breaking the ice.

Damien broke into an endearing smile. “Good. Likes his kibble. Sleeps on an old T-shirt.”

“That is adorable,” I decided, and couldn’t help but wonder if he was bare chested while the kitty borrowed his shirt.

Apparently wondering too loudly. Luc kicked my foot under the table, smiled at Damien. “Tell us what brings you into the city.”

“I’ve got a cousin, a human, who lives in Lincoln Park. I’ve asked my friends, family, to keep an eye out for the carnival or anything else suspicious. She called me earlier tonight. There’s a new development in Lincoln Park called Briarthorne. Gated community, very exclusive. She lives across the street. Said she saw two big silver trailers pull through the gate last night.”

“Jesus,” Luc said, eyes wide and excited. “Regan’s trailers.”

Damien smiled. “That’s what it sounds like to me. And I want in on the op.”

Luc reached out, offered Damien a hand. “Sir, that won’t be a problem.”

“I’ve scoped them out,” Jeff said, the overhead screen zeroing in on Lincoln Park and the Briarthorne development. He ducked to street level so quickly my stomach flipped as if I’d actually been diving toward it, and then he began to scan the neighborhood.

The houses were luxe, with large pools and enormous garages, both rarities in Chicago. Jeff panned the shot through the gate and up the street, past one large lot after another. The neighborhood was huge; they must have razed a lot of real estate to fit it in. Streets gave way to a small park crisscrossed by sidewalks.

“There,” Damien said, pointing at the two sleek trailers that sat at the end of the park.

“Ballsy of her to put down in the middle of the city,” Lindsey said. “And in the middle of the money and power.”

“Not all the money and power,” Luc snarked. “Merit’s parents live in Oak Park.”

“Har-har,” I said. “Not ballsy if it’s a gated community,” I added. “That gives her protection.”

Luc nodded. “And the cost of admission gives her resources and makes them believe they’re seeing an exciting and exclusive safari.”

“I’ll tell Malik and Ethan we’ve found her,” Luc said, picking up his phone.

“I’ll call Catcher and Mallory,” I offered, opting to give Jonah the night off. After all, we had an extra shifter.

•   •   •

By the time the entire crew was assembled, the Ops Room buzzed with energy and magic. Several vampires, two sorcerers, and two shifters. Jeff called Gabe to advise the Pack we’d found Regan’s menagerie, but they were still in Loring Park; waiting for them would have slowed us down. The longer we waited, the longer we risked she’d move again. And next time, we might not get so lucky.

The map of Briarthorne was still on-screen, giving everyone a sense of the location.

“Two trailers,” Luc said, pointing to the screen. “North end of the park, end to end. Jeff, Damien, Catcher, Mallory, Ethan, and Merit will go. We’ll stay here to keep an eye on the House just in case Regan decides she has a unique opportunity to test our security.” The idea was undoubtedly a good one, but he didn’t look thrilled about the idea of staying behind.

“Helen is preparing the ballroom for triage and shelter,” Ethan said. “Any sups who wish to come to the House can do so. We’ll have transportation at the park in order to get them here. We’ll also assist in reuniting them with their friends and families, wherever that might be.”

“And what about Regan?” Jeff asked. “At the risk of being grim, there are many, many people who will want a piece of her when all this is done.”

“They will,” Ethan agreed. “But our job is not to decide her fate.”

“When we’ve secured the sups,” Luc said, “we’ll call Detective Jacobs and advise she’s a suspect in the kidnapping of several supernaturals. That will keep her behind bars long enough.”

“She’s got magic. He may not want the responsibility.”

“The mayor created mechanisms to deal with Tate once upon a time,” Ethan pointed out. “They’ll deal with her, too.”

“We have a deal with the elves,” Damien said. “Taking Niera home, safe and sound. We’ll deliver her when they’re free.”

Luc nodded. “You get in, you free the sups, you contain Regan. And when it’s all done, you get a groovy sense of accomplishment, and we get Gabe and the elves off our backs. And probably dinner. I think Helen’s ordering pizza.”

Luc stood, braced his hands on the table, and looked us over one by one. “Be careful out there. And set phasers on awesome.”