Chicagoland Vampires - Friday Night Bites Part 32

"That's why the messages were sent? That's why the Breckenridges were targeted? To trigger a war between vampires and shifters?"

"They were targeted because they are weak." Peter's eyes glowed silver. "They were targeted to remind Keene who we are. What we are capable of. To remind him that Chicago is our city. Our town, and we won't let it go. Especially not to shifters. Topretenders ."

As if he'd spoken his war cry, he attacked, katana raised. I muttered a curse and, as Ethan spun away, raised my own sword in attack. I executed a half turn, spinning as I sliced the katana upward. Peter, unfortunately, was older and a more experienced fighter. He moved, then brought the katana horizontally across my knees. I jumped, and for the first time as a vampire, took air, bounding in a flip that brought me down on Peter's other side.

Someone might have warned me I could do that, I mentally told Ethan, then sliced my katana down.

Peter met my sword with his, the force vibrating the steel and my arm.

Unfortunately, that vibration also woke the vampire, like a hand on a shoulder waking someone from sleep. I huffed out a breath and pushed her back down, unwilling to lose control of this fight. I'd already seen how bad that could go, having stopped thebokken only millimeters from Catcher's head.

Peter and I clanged swords again and again and again as we sliced the katanas from side to side, me moving backward down the ramp as he pushed forward. The ribbed concrete was slick with water and algae, and I struggled to keep my footing as we moved. And worse-my head began to pound from the combined effort of fighting off his attacks, making my own advances, and trying to keep the vampire at bay.

"Celina will win," Peter said.

And there's my motivation, I thought. With a burst of energy that would have thrilled both Catcher and Aerobics Barbie-but which made the vampire that much more curious-I inched my way up the ramp, forcing Peter up and back with each slice and thrust of my sword. He turned to gain distance and I ran forward, katana in the air. I sliced down, but he turned on me, his own katana slicing upward.

"Celina is our future," he spit out again, then turned from me as the inertia forced us through the spins and away from each other. I pushed the sword beneath my right arm, but he rolled away from the thrust. I dropped my left hand away from the sword and spun around, raising the katana and bringing it around as I turned to face him again. I didn't land the strike, but Peter stumbled backward into Ethan, who caught him on the top of the head with the b.u.t.t of his katana's handle.

"Celina is old news," Ethan said, voice flat, as Peter crumpled to the ground. As I lowered my sword, chest heaving from the exertion of the fight, Ethan crouched down and reached out his hand again.

"You are hereby excommunicated," he said, then ripped the medal from Peter's neck. Ethan stood again, pressed the medal to his lips, then tossed it into the Lake. Without comment, he pulled the cell phone from his pocket, punched in numbers, and raised it to his ear.

"Tell the Brecks," he said. "The threat has been contained."

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

GIVE PEACE A CHANCE.

They debriefed via headset on the ride back to Cadogan House, but I stayed quiet, the pressure in my head forcing my silence. I rested my forehead against the cool gla.s.s of the pa.s.senger-side window and listened as they discussed the fight, the e-mail, events in Peter's history that might have triggered his defection to Celina's side. The loss of a loved one. A fight with a shifter. Celina's innate power.

The downpour of rain started just as Ethan pulled the Mercedes into the bas.e.m.e.nt. Malik met us at thebas.e.m.e.nt door.

"They're here," he said. "In the office. Breckenridges and Masters."

Ethan nodded, and we took the stairs to the first floor.

"You did good," he quietly said, as we rounded the corner toward his office.

I nodded my thanks. Luc met us in the hallway, having driven back to the House with Lindsey, just as Ethan pushed forward into his office.

The room was full of vampires and shifters.

Nick, in gray trousers and a slinky black polo, stood with his father just inside the door. He ignored me, but cast a dubious glance around the office. "I didn't know bloodsucking paid so well."

"Said the man who resorted to extortion to deal with his family problems," Ethan pointed out.

Headache or not, I bit back a grin. Who knew he had it in him?

"Have a seat, gentlemen," Ethan said, extending his hand toward the conference table. Scott, Noah, and Morgan were already there. After the Brecks made their way to the end of the room and took seats opposite the vampires, Ethan took his chair at the head of the table. Luc, Malik, and I followed, and stayed standing.

"Thank you all for agreeing to gather together," Ethan said. "As Malik has no doubt explained to you, we have identified and nullified the supposed threat against Jamie Breckenridge." He glanced at Papa Breck, whose features were pulled into a confused frown. "A vampire in our House fell under the influence of a supernatural with a less than stellar reputation. In so doing, he was convinced to issue a false threat against Jamie, while at the same time warning us of a threat by the Breckenridges against us." Ethan paused, then clasped his hands together on the table, interlacing his fingers. "His intent, we understand, was to foster animosity between vampires and shifters."

I had to give it to the Brecks. They didn't even blink an eyelash at the fact that they'd been outed.

"Thanks to the efforts of our guards corps and our Sentinel, we were able to detain the vampire," Ethan continued. "He has been excommunicated and is currently on his way to the U.K. for sentencing, as is our way. I want to stress that there is no indication that anyone, vampire or otherwise, Cadogan House or otherwise, intended to follow through with the threat against Jamie. Nevertheless, whether real or not, this threat has been neutralized."

"Who?" Nick asked. "Who made the threat, and who gave the order?"

Ethan arched an imperious eyebrow at Nick, who managed, impressively, to give back an equally stubborn look. "Sullivan, you can't think that I'm going to simply take your word on this and walk away.

Not after what my family's been through."

"Then perhaps," Ethan said, "we could reach a compromise."

Silence, then, "I'm listening."

"The information regarding both the perpetrator and the individual we believe issued the orders is very precious to us." He linked his fingers together on the table, then glanced up at Nick. "That said, in the interest of goodwill between our respective organizations, we are willing to consider a trade. We will provide this information to you, upon your word that this information does not leave the room. That the information would not be provided to other shifters, other humans, advisors, officials, etc. Nor, of course, would it be provided to the press in any form."

Nick barked out a laugh and looked away before raising his gaze to Ethan's again."I'm a journalist. Do you honestly expect me to agree to that?"

"I expect that if you agree to that, we will have no need to further investigate why the Breckenridges generally, and Jamie specifically, were targeted for this particular incident. We will have no reason,"

Ethan said, "to further investigate why your family was so eager to jump to young Jamie's defense."

Nick's nostrils flared. Clearly, even if we didn't know the details, something was amiss with Jamie.

"Blackmail, Sullivan?"

Ethan smiled back at Nick, with teeth. "I learn from the best, Breckenridge."

There was silence in the room.

"Agreed," Papa Breck said into the silence, "on the terms you specified." When Nick opened his mouth to speak, Papa Breck silenced him with a finger. "We will close this down, Nicholas," he said. "We willclose it down, and we will close it down tonight. We have lived peacefully in Chicago for three generations, and while I love you, I will not allow your pride as a journalist to bring that to an end. Family wins this one, not career." He returned his gaze to Ethan. "This is done."

Ethan nodded. "In that case, we are all witnesses to the terms of the agreement that we have reached."

There were nods around the room.

"Before we end this ridiculous lovefest," Nick said, sarcasm thick in his voice, "could we get to the meat of it? Who sent the e-mail?"

Ethan looked at him. "Peter," he said. "One of our House guards. As to the instigator, we have circ.u.mstantial evidence, albeit only circ.u.mstantial at this point, that the scheme itself was concocted by Celina."

"Celina?" Nick asked, eyes suddenly wide. I gave him points that he understood having Celina as an enemy was a cause for concern. "How did-"

"She was released," Ethan smoothly finished. "And in light of the fact that she has unfinished business"-he bobbed his head toward me-"we expect that she will return to Chicago. We have, however, no evidence that she bears any particular ill will toward your family. You appear to have been chosen because you were, let's say, strategically convenient."

"What evidence do you have that she's involved?" Scott asked, his head tilted curiously to the side.

"E-mails were sent from an address we believe to be her alias. And Peter confessed to the fact," he matter-of-factly added.

Scott made a low whistle. "This does not bode well. Not well at all."

The room went silent. Morgan, surprisingly, kept quiet, but a glance in his direction showed an abnormally pale cast to his cheeks. His eyes were wide, his gaze intense and centered on the tabletop in front of him, as if he contemplated grave things. I supposed more crimes perpetrated by your former Master, the vampire that made you, were pretty grave things to contemplate.

"Well," Papa Breck said, rising from his chair, "I believe that concludes this matter."

Nick interrupted the silence. "Wait-I want to say something."

We all looked in his direction.

"Chicago has three Houses," he said. "More than any other city in the United States. It is where vampires announced their existence to the world, and it is becoming the center of vampire activity in the United States. Chicago is the locus, the focus, of American vampires.

"I know about the raves," Nick continued, and the room went quiet enough to hear a pin drop. "Maybe you had an excuse before. When you were still in hiding, when vampires were myth and horror-movie fodder, maybe it was appropriate to pretend that raves were nothing more than the subject of some lonely human's overactive imagination. But things have changed. This is your city. The Presidium knows it. The vampires know it. The nymphs know it. The fairies know it.

"Shifters know it," he quietly, gravely, said, then lifted his blue eyes to mine. I don't know exactly what I saw there; I'm not sure I have words for the emotion. But it was bottomless-a well of experience, of life, of love and loss. A wealth of human history, or maybe shifter history, and a resulting world-weariness, in the depth of it.

Nick rose and stood before the table, hands on his hips. "Clean up your G.o.dd.a.m.ned city, or someone else will do it for you."

With that p.r.o.nouncement, he pushed back his chair and walked away. Papa Breck followed, the vampires silent until Luc had escorted them out of the room and the door was closed again.

Ethan put his palms flat on the table. "And with that," he said, "I believe we've brought this particular crisis to its resolution."

"I'm not sure how much resolution we've gotten," Scott said, pushing his own chair back, rising, and returning it to its spot at the conference table. "I wasn't ready to go a round with theTrib or with Tate, but this Celina news isn't exactly comforting, either. I mean, nice work in getting this thing wrapped up so quickly, but I'd rather Peter had acted on his own."

"Although I'd have preferred that Cadogan not serve as Celina's recruiting ground," Ethan darkly said, "I take your larger point. I would also propose that we stay in contact in the event that informationregarding Celina's return to Chicago-or any future schemes-comes to light."

"Agreed," Scott said.

"Agreed," Noah said.

We all looked at Morgan. He still stared absently at the table, pain in his eyes. Maybe he'd finally taken to heart the truth about Celina-about the havoc she was apparently willing to wreak. That couldn't have been an easy pill to swallow.

"Agreed," he finally-and quietly-said.

Ethan rose and walked to the office door as the rest of the vampires did the same. He opened it, offered polite goodbyes to Noah, Scott, and Morgan, and when Luc, Malik, and I were left in the room, released us.

"I believe we've had enough drama for a few days," Ethan said. "Take the night, enjoy your evening.

We'll speak at dusk tomorrow."

Luc, Malik, and I grinned at one another, smiled at Ethan.

"Thanks, Hoss," Luc said, and went for the door.

"What he said," I offered with a canny smile, and followed him out.

I made it around the corner of the hall before Morgan called my name. He stood in the foyer, hands in his pockets, some mix of anger and defeat in his expression and his stance.

"Can we talk?"

I nodded, my stomach suddenly knotted in antic.i.p.ation of the coming battle. He opened the door, and I followed him out. Mist rose from the streets, a cool breeze blowing through Hyde Park.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked when we'd reached the sidewalk, his voice awkwardly loud in the quiet of the night. "About the threat, the story? You could have come to me with any of this. You could have told me when we were at your parents' house."

I looked around, realized any vampire near the front windows would be able to hear our conversation, and took his wrist. I led him down the sidewalk and through the gate, then to the street corner, which was empty of paparazzi. Maybe they melted in the rain like so many wicked witches.

"I was acting as Sentinel," I told him, when it seemed we were far enough from canny-eared vampires to afford some privacy. "This was Cadogan business."

Morgan crossed his arms. "It wasHouse business. We all had a right to know."

"Right or not, that was Ethan's call, not mine."

"You stand Sentinel. You act in a manner that's best for your House. And what's best for your House is your determination, not Ethan's."

I didn't disagree with the sentiment in principle, but I wasn't about to admit that to Morgan.

"Even if it was my decision to make," I said, "it wasmy decision, not yours. I understand this is information you would have liked to have, but that's not my problem. I don't stand Sentinel for Navarre House."

"Oh, I think we're allreal clear on that, Merit." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "It's pretty obvious where your loyalties lie."

I was tired of taking hits for the team, so I hit back. "And your loyalties didn't lie with Celina?"

A flush of crimson crossed his cheekbones.

"Look me in the eye and tell me your Master didn't make decisions that involved 'House business.' And if you knew anything, about what she's done or how completely off her rocker she is, you sure didn't share that with the rest of us."

He glowered. "I knew nothing that would have put anyone in danger. I did what I thought was best."

"And I did what I thought was best."

"Yeah, by acquiescing to Ethan."

I rolled my eyes. "Jesus, Morgan. He's the Master of my House. What do you want me to do? Start a rebellion? If you were having this conversation with one of your Novitiates about disobeying your orders, would you still suborn mutiny?"

Morgan shook his head. "This is completely different."It was my turn to snort out disdain, and I threw up my hands, fueled by sheer irritation with the conversation. "How is that different?"

This time, he answered with fury, in loud, angry words. "Because it'sEthan , Merit-that's why!"

Thunder boomed in the distance, a bolt of spectacular lightning zigzagging its way across the sky.

I stared at him, felt the responsive trip of my own heart, and saw the sudden narrowing of his pupils.