Authors: Chloe Neill
Drink Deep (19 page)
“I don’t suppose there are Moon nymphs out there who could be responsible for this?” I asked. “Or maybe Wind witches? Atmospheric gremlins?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Malik said.
“Me, either,” Jonah said. “But we clearly can’t deny there’s something larger at work here.”
“The question now is what to do about it,” Luc said. “Especially within our current operating limitations.”
He’d only just spoken the words when a bolt of lightning shot across the sky. We instantaneously hit the ground, just in time to watch the blaze of plasma strike the weathervane on the roof of the House accompanied by the loudest bang I’d ever heard.
The block went dark. The lights in the House flickered and went off, and then came back on in a sickly shade of orange—security lights I’d only seen during previous emergency drills. We had a couple of emergency generators in the basement to keep the emergency lights, security systems, and blood refrigeration on during power outages.
The following silence was filled with the shouts of humans down the block and the sound of sirens already heading down the road.
Beside me, Malik sighed. “We do not need this. Neither the drama nor the danger.”
When another bolt of lightning lit the backyard, Malik cast a wary glance across the lawn. The crowd of vampires was splitting as someone walked through them. After a moment, Frank pressed through the final knot to step in front of us. He surveyed the sky suspiciously, then looked at Malik with obvious disdain. His thoughts were easy to read:
Goddamn Chicago vampires. Incapable of managing their affairs
.
Goddamn Chicago vampires. Incapable of managing their affairs
.
“What is this?” he imperiously asked when he reached us. I didn’t bother introducing him to Jonah. He didn’t seem the type to be interested in others, and there was no point in dragging Jonah into our problems.
“This is not the work of vampires,” Malik assured him. “We have no information beyond that.”
“This isn’t going to help the reputation of the Houses overmuch,” Frank said.
“No, it is not,” Malik agreed. “Which is why we will investigate the cause in order to limit the effect.”
You could all but see the wheels turning in Frank’s mind. But at least the wheels were turning. This was usually the point at which the GP henchman blamed us for whatever was happening, regardless of our role, and made us swear we wouldn’t leave the House to fix it.
There was no way to win.
But Frank actually seemed to be considering the problem and our options. Maybe he was capable of independent thought, instead of just blaming Cadogan f singlamed us or the ills of the world.
“There is a group you could contact,” Frank said.
We all looked at him expectantly.
“The sky masters.”
Malik immediately shook his head. “No.”
“Who are the sky masters?” I whispered.
“The fairies,” Jonah whispered back. “The mercenary fairies.”
“There’s a reason they’re referred to as mercenary fairies,” Malik pointed out. “Our relationship with them is tense, at best, and it’s only that good because they are well paid for their efforts.”
“Be that as it may, this is clearly a matter within their purview. There is no better group to ask. There is no other group to ask. I suggest you select an away party and send it. Now.”
Frankly, I thought it was a stupid idea. We’d already talked with two supernatural representatives—nymphs and the siren—and neither had anything to do with the problems the city was facing. Would visiting a group that already hated us accomplish anything other than raising their ire?
Malik, ever the diplomat, managed a respectful nod for Frank before looking at us. “Tread carefully into the world of fairy. They are a different breed of supernaturals, no pun intended. Different expectations, different formalities. But they know things. He’s right; it’s worth the trip. Find the queen. Pay her a visit and discover who’s doing this.”
“And make them stop,” Franklin said. “Anything less is unacceptable.”
The away party arranged and orders issued, Malik looked at Luc. “Get everyone back into the House. It’s not safe to be outside.”
Jonah and I shared a nod and began to walk back toward the House. Anticipation began to flutter in my stomach, but it was Malik’s parting words that triggered the full-out panic.
“And may God help us all.”
The emergency lights didn’t provide much ambience, but they provided enough illumination for me to find my way upstairs and grab my sword and dagger.
Jonah trailed me all the way to my room, which surprised me. I hadn’t expected him to follow, and I certainly hadn’t invited him. But by the time I realized he was traipsing up the stairs behind me, telling him to stay put would have been that much more awkward.
He stood in the threshold of my door as I sent Catcher a message. I wasn’t exactly thrilled with Catcher right now, but I wanted a non-vamp to know I was heading into fairy territory. His response was nearly immediate: YOUR FUNERAL.
Charming.
I pulled out my dagger and slipped it into my boot, then took my sheathed katana from its horizontal wall mount. That had been a gift from Luc; he’d installed one for Lindsey one rainy Saturday, and she’d decided it was fabulous enough that I’d needed one, too. I couldn’t disagree—it was a gorgeous way to display the sword. Even in its scabbard it was a beautiful weapon, sleek and gleaming, the blade inside equally sleek but deadly and curving just so.
“Your rooms aren’t quite as lush as ours are,” Jonah said.
“You have more room and fewer vampires,” I pointed out, gathering up my belt. He stepped aside as I closed the door behind us.
s wioom and
“True.”
“True.”
He followed me back downstairs, but pulled me to a stop before we went outside. “I don’t actually know where the queen lives—it’s a secret the fairies guard with their lives. In order to get that information, we’ll have to offer them something in return.”
So much for Chicago’s sups being in this together. “What will they want?”
“Precious metals or stones.” He grinned. “They’re still on the gold standard. I don’t suppose you have any sitting around?”
“Gold? No. No, I don’t. I left all my bullion in my room.”
“Smart-ass,” he said, but he was smiling when he said it.
As I considered our options, I absently touched the Cadogan medal around my neck . . . and got an idea.
“Follow me,” I told him, and walked down the House’s main hallway, where the administrative offices were located. Vampires were funneling back into the House now, and we found Helen in her office. Her Barbie-pink office.
The room lit by candles, she sat behind her desk in a pink tracksuit, every hair in her steel gray bob in place. She was making notes on a pad with an old-fashioned dip calligraphy pen. She glanced up when we entered and dipped her pen back into a small glass jar of black ink.
“Yes, Sentinel?”
“I don’t suppose you have any extra Cadogan medals in hand?”
Alarm flashed through her eyes; that wasn’t entirely unexpected. We’d already lost one blank Cadogan medal; it had been stolen and used by a former Cadogan vampire to try to frame the House in a series of murders. It stood to reason she’d be hesitant about throwing them around now.
“We’ve been directed by the GP and Malik to visit the fairies,” I explained. “In order to ascertain how and where to do that, we need to talk to the fairies at the gate.”
She nodded in understanding. “And they require payment for information.” She stood up and walked to a file cabinet, then unlocked the top drawer. But before she opened it, she looked suspiciously at Jonah.
“He’s the captain of the Grey House guards,” I informed her. “He’s been instrumental in helping us deal with these issues. You know, inter-House cooperation and all that.”
She nodded, unlocked the door, and pulled out two blank Cadogan medals, which she handed to me. “Do everything you can,” she said, a tremor in her voice. “It’s hard to know how to react or what I should do . . . I don’t know what’s happening.”
“I don’t think anyone does,” I said, and assured her we’d do our best. But that didn’t make me any less nervous at the weight being placed on our shoulders. Not that I’d let that deter me. Cadogan, at least, was short on guards and barely had enough to keep watch outside. Who else could do it?
Medals in hand, we walked back to the front door and stood on the small stone porch for a moment, watching the fairies at the gate . . . and trying very hard to focus on the task at hand and not the chaos around us.
“I’m guessing you have more information about the fairies than I do,” I told Jonah. “Would you like to handle this one?”
He nodded. “I can take it. Although I’ve never met Claudia before.”
“Claudia? s">”
He smiled. “The fairy queen. The one they would die to protect.”
“Of course they would,” I muttered, then handed over the gold and followed him down the sidewalk.
Two male fairies stood point at the gate, their gaunt features exaggerated by their long, dark, straight hair, pulled back tightly at the temples. They were tall and slender and they both wore black, and when they realized we were approaching them, they shared a none too flattering glance.
Jonah cut to the chase. “We need information, and we have treasure to offer.”
The interest in their eyes was unmistakable; it might have been fair to call it “lust.” They had the same expressions of yearning you might have seen on an inveterate gambler offered a seat at a lucky table.
“What kind of treasure?” asked one of the fairies.
“Gold,” Jonah told them. He rattled the medals together in his pocket, and their heads twitched a bit at the sound.
“What information?” the fairy asked.
“We need to speak with the queen.”
Silence.
“And if the queen does not wish to speak with you?”
Jonah slowly lifted his gaze to the brilliantly red sky.
“The sky is on fire,” he said. “You are the masters of the sky; it is your realm. If you’ve done this . . .” Jonah began, but a look of menace from one of the fairies made him pause. The look in their eyes left little doubt they’d be willing to go the distance to protect their honor.
But Jonah was undeterred. “If you’ve done this,” Jonah repeated again, “your queen must have a reason. In order to assuage the humans, we need to advise them of it. And if your queen is not involved, then she will undoubtedly be concerned. We seek knowledge. That is all.”
The fairies exchanged a glance. “Let us see the gold,” said the chatty one.
Slowly, as if letting the excitement build, Jonah slipped the medals from his pocket. They dangled from their chains and spun slowly, and the fairies’ eyes went wild.
“You will find her in fortune’s tower,” said the fairy, reaching out his hand. Jonah dangled the medals above it.
“More,” Jonah said. “This is a big city.”
“It is the only remaining spire of what once stood strong.” He made a play for the medals again, but Jonah pulled them out of reach.
“There are hundreds of skyscrapers in the Loop,” he said. “A standing tower could be anywhere. That’s insufficient information for this amount of gold.”
The fairies were becoming tenser; I could feel the rise of magical angst in the air.
“There is water,” he said. “Earth, and sky.”
“Again,” Jonah firmly said after waiting for a moment, “that could be anywhere in the city. That doesn’t mean anything to us.”
But I touched Jonah’s arm. “It’s okay. I think I know where that is.”
“You’re sure?”
I looked at the fairy. “It was the home of the city’s human king?”
When the fairy nodded back, I pulled the medals from Jonah’s hand and placed them into his. “Thank you for your business,” I told him, then pulled Jonah away. “Let’s go.”
Without objection from Jonah, we walked to our cars, climbed inside and were on our way.
We drove separately and parked on the edge of the street. We got out, suspiciously eying the trails of lightning that were creating a strobe light effect across the park.
There were a number of mansions in Chicago that had once been home to famous families. During the city’s golden age, entrepreneurs built homes along Lake Shore Drive in the Gold Coast neighborhood (now home, not coincidentally, to Navarre House), affording the fashionable a view of the lake and access to the rest of the city’s wealthy.
Some of the mansions were still standing; some had been razed. One of the most famous—the Potter Mansion, built by ancestors of the city’s former mayor—had been demolished when the mayor moved to Creeley Creek.
Well,
mostly
demolished.
mostly
demolished.
The Potter family donated the grounds to the city, which was turned into the aptly named Potter Park. The only remaining bit of the mansion—a four-story brick turret—punctuated the middle of the park like a spear.
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