Chicagoland Vampires - Some Girls Bite Part 26

Catcher shook his head. "I'm not talking about your directing the show. I'm talking about getting the communities together-or at least the Houses. Everyone's talking, and we're hearing a lot of it. Questions are being asked, fingers being pointed. You need to step out there. You could gain some capital if you do." He shrugged, scratched at the arm that lay behind Mallory's shoulders. "I know it's not my decision, and you're probably using that handy little mental link to explain to our mutual vampire friend here"-he bobbed his head at me-"how I'm meddling into affairs that aren't my own. But you also know that I wouldn't come to you with this if I didn't think it was important."

The room was quiet, mentally and otherwise, Catcher having been a little overenthusiastic about Ethan's willingness to confide in me.

Then he nodded. "I know. I take it you don't have any information other than this?"

Catcher swallowed a drink of soda, shook his head. "As far as facts go, you know what I know. As far as feelings go. . . ." He trailed off, but held out his right hand, palm up, and slowly uncurled his fingers. There was a sudden pulse through the air, that sudden vibrating thickness that, I was beginning to learn, indicated magic. And in the s.p.a.ce above Catcher's hand, the air seemed to wave, like rising heat.

Ethan shifted beside me. "What do you know?" His voice was low, earnest, cautious.

Catcher, head c.o.c.ked, eyes on his palm, was quiet for a long, heavy moment. "War is coming, Ethan Sullivan, House of Cadogan.

The temporary peace, born of human neglect, is at an end. She is strong. She will come, she will rise, and she will break the bonds that have held the Night together."

I swallowed, kept my gaze on Catcher. This was Mallory's boyfriend in full fourth-grade sorcerer mode, offering a creepily formal prophecy about the state of the Houses. But creepy as it was, I kept my eyes on Catcher, and ignored the urge to shift my head and look at Ethan, whose weighty stare I could feel.

"War will come. She will bring it. They will join her. Prepare to fight."

Catcher shuddered, curled his fingers back into a fist. The magic dissipated in a warm breeze, leaving the four of us blinking at each other.

A knock sounded at the door. "Liege? Everything okay? We felt magic."

"It's fine," Ethan called out. "We're fine." But when I looked over, his gaze was on me, penetrating in its intensity, and I knew- even without his voice in my head-what he was thinking: I was an unknown threat, and I might be the "she" in Catcher's prophecy. It was another mark against me, the possibility that I was the woman who would bring war to the vampires, risk the possibility of another Clearing.

I sighed and looked away. Things had become so complicated.

Catcher shook his head like a dog shaking off water, then ran a hand over his head. "That was vaguely nauseating, but at least I didn't do iambic pentameter this time."

"And no rhyming," Mallory put in, "which is an improvement."

I lifted a brow at that revelation, wondering how and when Mallory'd had a chance to see Catcher prophesizing. On the other hand, G.o.d only knew went on behind that bedroom door.

As if still recovering from the intensity of the experience, Catcher picked up a cup of soda, stripped off the plastic lid and straw, and drank deeply, his throat swallowing convulsively until he'd drained it. Magic looked to be tough work, and I was glad-even if being a vampire was still an emotional and physical ordeal-that I wasn't dealing with the weight of some kind of unseen universal power.

When he'd finished drinking, he sat back, then put a hand on Mallory's knee. He slid a glance to me, then looked at Ethan. "By the way, she's not the one."

"I know," he said, not even pausing to reflect. That drew a look from me, which he didn't meet. I opened my mouth to ask questions-How do you know? Why don't you think I'm the one?-but Catcher jumped in first.

"And speaking of prophesying, I hear Gabe's heading back, and sooner than we thought."

Ethan's head snapped up, so I could guess the import of that little revelation. "How reliable?"

"Reliable enough." Catcher looked at me. "You remember, this is the head of the North American Central-Jeff's pack." I nodded my understanding. "He's got people in Chicago, and he's got the convention coming up. He wants to a.s.sure himself that things are safe and secure before he brings in the pack. And I've heard Tonya's pregnant, so he'll want her and the kid safe."

"If things aren't safe," Ethan clipped out, "it's none of my doing."

Catcher's tone softened. "I realize that. But things are coming to a head. And if he wants a.s.surances, he'll get them, or he'll skip Chicago altogether and order the pack to Aurora."

"Aurora?" I asked.

"Alaska," Catcher said. "Home base for the North American packs. They'll disappear into the wilderness and leave the vamps to fight it out alone. Again."

Ethan sat back, seemed to consider the threat, then slid me a glance. "Thoughts?"

I opened my mouth, closed it again. The master of strategy apparently wanted another bit of "canny a.n.a.lysis." I wasn't sure I could produce brilliant supernatural strategy off the top of my head. But I gave it a try, opting to stick with common sense, which seemed to be in notoriously short supply in the supernatural communities.

"There's little to be lost in getting people together, talking things out," I said. "Humans already know about us. If we can't work together, if we fight one another, it sets the stage for problems down the road. If worse comes to worst, and the tide turns, we'll want friends to turn to. We'll at least want honest conversation, open communication."

Ethan nodded.

"Why would it take capital for you to call the Houses together?" I asked. "What did you do to make them not trust you?"

Ethan and Catcher shared a look. "History," Catcher finally said, tearing his eyes from Ethan and leveling that green-eyed gaze on me. "It's always history."

The answer was unsatisfying, but I nodded, guessing it was the best I was going to get today.Catcher leaned forward again, grabbed a handful of curly fries. "Well, something to think about. You'll call if you need support."

The last wasn't a question, or a suggestion, more a prediction of how Ethan would act. They were definitely friends of a sort, Ethan and Catcher, although G.o.d only knew what weird history had brought these two-rebellious magical bad boy and neurotic, obsessively political vampire-together. Probably a good story, I decided.

"How was the Commendation?" Catcher asked, then leveled an amused glance at me. "Any surprises?"

"I did nothing," I said, grabbing an uneaten pickle from the flat of fries in front of Ethan.

"She wreaked havoc." A smile tipped one corner of Ethan's mouth.

I grinned at Mallory. "He's just jealous that I can withstand his call."

"I have no idea what that means," she said, grinning back, "but I'm thrilled to hear it."

"Can she?" Catcher asked Ethan.

"She can."

"And you named her Sentinel."

Ethan nodded. "On the expectation that you'll continue to work with her, to prepare her for that duty. You do have the expertise, after all. Your . . . unique brand of instruction would be invaluable."

Catcher paused for a moment, then nodded. "I'll work with her. Teach her. For now." He shifted his gaze to Ethan. "And that instruction will fulfill the debt I owe."

The debt he owed? There was definitely a good story there.

Another pause while Ethan considered Catcher's offer. "Agreed." He folded his arms over his chest, and slid me a dubious glance.

"We'll see if she can rise to the occasion, do what needs to be done."

I gave Mallory a pointed look. "We'll see if she can manage not to kill her Liege and Master, especially if he continues talking about her like she's not in the room."

She snickered.

"Yes," Ethan drily said. "Forget the Merit money. Clearly, her worth is in her superb sense of humor."

The room went silent, Mallory's brow knitting with obvious concern. Catcher nervously cleared his throat, balled up the foil from his hot dog. It was up to me, I guessed, to ease the tension that bringing my family into the mix had fostered.

I looked over at him, saw the sudden tightness around Ethan's eyes, realized he regretted saying what he probably, on first blush, thought was a compliment. And in a way, in a twisted, completely Sullivan-esque way, it was.

"That's one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me," I told him, realizing when the words were out that I was only barely lying.

For a second, I got no reaction.

And then he smiled, kind of a quirky half smile that tipped up only the right corner of his mouth. Because of that smile, that G.o.dd.a.m.n human smile, I had to swallow down a burst of affection that nearly brought tears to my eyes. Instead, I looked away, and hated myself-for my inability to hate him despite the things he said, the things he did, the things he expected.

I wanted to beat my fists against the floor like a child in tantrum. Why couldn't I hate him? Why, in spite of the fact that I knew, as readily as I knew that I was sitting on the sofa in his office with my best friend and her boyfriend nearby, that my inability to hate him was going to bite me right on the a.s.s one day?

That was going to be a very, very bad day, and I wasn't sure if I was better off for knowing that it was coming.

"Well," Catcher said, suddenly rising, his voice cutting through the strain that still thickened the air in the room, "we should get back to the house." He looked at me. "It'll be dawn soon. You need a ride?"

I rose and began stuffing empty food wrappers back into the paper bags. "I drove over. But I should get back, too. I'll walk you out." I looked at Ethan. "a.s.suming we're done?"

He bobbed his head. "I had wanted to touch base with you about the murder investigations, their impact on the House, but I suppose this discussion has negated the need for that." His voice softened. "It's late. You're dismissed."

"I'll ride with you," Mallory lightly said, her tone making clear that she had words planned.

"Well, then," Ethan said, standing with the rest of us. "Thank you for the meal." He reached out and offered Catcher his hand, and they shook over the table and the crumpled remains of our dinner.

"Sure," Catcher said. "A word with you before we head out?"

Ethan nodded, and Catcher pressed his lips to Mallory's forehead. "I'll see you at home."

"Sure thing," she said, her hand brushing his abdomen as she reached up to press her lips to his. The goodbyes complete, she turned to me, smiled, and offered her hand. "Let's let the boys clean up the rest of this mess, shall we?"

We did, leaving them on either side of the coffee table, napkins and paper cups and bags of trash between them. Her arm linked in mine, we left Cadogan House, walked quietly down the block to my car, and stayed quiet until we'd driven a block away.

"Merit, you've got a bad track record with guys."

"Don't start on me." I gripped the steering wheel a little harder. "I don't have a thing for Ethan."

"You've got a thing that's written all over your face. I thought this was just physical." She shook her head. "But whatever went on in there, that was more than physical, more than chemistry. He pushes some kind of b.u.t.ton for you, and although he's doing a little better job of fighting it, I'd say you do the same for him."

"I don't like him."

"I understand that." She reached out, tapped a fingertip lightly against my temple. "But that's up here. That's logical. He's pulled you in. And it's not that I don't want to support you in whoever you've found. I'm a Buffy fan girl, I'm apparently a sorcerer, and I'm dating a former sorcerer . . . or whatever the h.e.l.l he is. Regardless, I'm the last person who should give a lecture on weird relationships. But there's something. . . ."

"Inhuman about him?"

She clapped a hand against the dashboard. "Yes. Exactly. It's like he's not playing by the same rules at the rest of us."

"He's a vampire. I'm a vampire." Jesus, was I defending this? I was in a bad way.

"Yes, Mer, but you've been a vampire for, what, a week? He's been a vamp for nearly four hundred years. That's a freakin'

plethora of weeks. You have to think it, I don't know, bleeds some of the human out of him."

I gnawed on my bottom lip, staring blankly at the pa.s.sing houses, the side streets. "I'm not in love with him. I'm not that stupid." I scratched absently at my head. "I don't know what it is."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, so fiercely that I thought for a second we were under attack. "I've got it."

Once I was sure she was fine, that there weren't bat-winged beasts descending on the car, I slapped her arm. "d.a.m.n, girl. Don't do that when I'm driving."

"Sorry," she said, swiveling in her seat, her face alight. "But I've got an idea-maybe it's the vampire thing-the fact that he made you? They say that's supposed to create a bond."

I considered that, decided to embrace it, and felt some of the tension leave my shoulders. "Yeah. Yeah. That could be it." It did explain the connection between us, and was much more emotionally satisfying than imagining I was falling for someone so utterly, completely wrong for me. Someone so embarra.s.sed by his interest in me.

As we pulled into the drive, I gave the thought a final hearty nod. "Yeah," I told her. "That's it."

She looked at me, waited a beat, then nodded. "Okay."

"Okay."

"Good."

She grinned at me. "Good."

I grinned back at her. "Great."

"Great, fine, wonderful, Jesus, let's just get out of the car."

We did.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

TWO'S COMPANY-THREE'S A MADHOUSE.

One day pa.s.sed, then two, then four. It was surprisingly easy to fall into the routines of being a vampire. Sleeping during the day.

Supplementing my diet with blood. Learning the ropes of Cadogan security (including the protocols) and doing my best to prepare for the responsibility of defending the House. At this early point, that generally involved pretending to be as competent as my actually skilled colleagues.

The protocols weren't difficult to understand, but there were many to learn. They were divided, much like the katas, into categories-offensive action plans, defensive action plans. The bulk of them fell into the latter category-how we were supposed to react if groups attacked the House or any particular Cadogan vampire, how we'd structure counterattacks. The maneuvers varied by the size of the band of marauders and whether they used swords or magic against us. Whoever the enemy, our first priority was to secure Ethan, then the rest of the in-house vamps and the building itself, coordinating with other allies when possible.

Once Chicago was secure, we were to check in with the Cadogan vamps who didn't live in Cadogan House.