Midnight Marked

  “The way my luck with him is going, Gabe might have a better shot,” I muttered, in a moment of self-pity.

  “You should tell her about Calamity Jane,” Lindsey said to Luc.

  I glanced from her to Luc. “Who’s Calamity Jane?”

  “Long story very short,” he said, “she was a woman from my dry and dusty and tumbleweed-ridden past.” Luc had been a cowboy in his human life.

  “She was a thief, an assassin, and a general ne’er-do-well,” Lindsey said with a smile. “Accused of fourteen murders that the county was aware of. And she escaped from him four separate times.”

  Four was definitely larger than three. If not by a lot.

  “‘Escaped’ is a tough word,” Luc said. “I prefer to say she ‘evaded incarceration.’ But yeah, four times.”

  “How’d you finally get her?”

  He smiled. “With help from the dirt and dust and tumbleweeds. She rolled into Dodge City wanting, of all things, a hot bath. I caught her while she was performing her ablutions,” he said, eyebrows winging up.

  “Is the moral of that story that it’s safest to avoid good hygiene?” Ethan asked.

  “Har-har, Sire. Har-har. The moral of the story is to always keep going! Ever forward! Forward progress! You can do it! And all that other motivational shit.” Luc looked at me, a gleam in his eye. “And if you can catch ’em with their pants down, they tend to be a little more amenable.”

  Words of wisdom.

  • • •

  Following Lindsey’s suggestion, I e-mailed Jonah, asked for a meeting with Noah the next evening at the RG headquarters to talk about the Rogue vampire.

  When this evening drew to a close and we were secure in our Hyde Park tower, Ethan carefully removed my clothes, used hands and words to soothe and seduce.

  This was about need as much as the library had been, but of a different variety. This was about partnership as much as touch. About tenderness as much as passion. And about comfort as much as satisfaction. Every movement was slow and languid, every word tender. His mouth was soft against mine, then against the rest of my body, and pleasure rose and crested in waves that cleared violence from my mind.

  We rode those waves together, bodies linked and hearts finally reunited. Love wasn’t a battle, and it wasn’t a war. It was a partnership, with missteps and miracles and all the rest of it.

  When we were both sated and languid, Ethan lay naked beside me, his head on my abdomen. I ran my fingers through his hair as he traced a fingertip across my still-heated skin.

  “Do you remember, Sentinel, the first words you ever said to me?”

  I grimaced. “No. But I bet they were rude.” I hadn’t been a fan of Ethan Sullivan the first time I walked into Cadogan House.

  “Oh, it was.” His eyes glinted like shards of green glass. “Your life had changed, and you were furious at me. You said you hadn’t given me permission to change you.”

  “Which, in fairness to me, was accurate.” I paused, remembering my seething dislike for the Master of my new House. “I didn’t like you very much.”

  “No, you didn’t. But then you came to your senses, realized you were wrong.”

  I tugged on a lock of his hair. “Don’t push your luck. It took some pretty good campaigning on your part.”

  “Thank you for not calling it begging.”

  I grinned. “I was going to, but changed my mind at the last minute.”

  “Because it would have been cruel.”

  “But a really good play on my part. I’d have gotten a lot of points for that.”

  “Are we keeping score?”

  “Yes. Redeemable for Mallocakes.” They were my favorite chocolate snack cake, although I hadn’t had one in a few weeks. Not since the Night of a Thousand Mallocakes. Which was why I was willing to give them to Ethan.

  “I have no interest in your Mallocakes.”

  “I’m going to hope that’s not a euphemism.”

  “It isn’t, obviously.” He lowered his mouth to my stomach, nipped playfully.

  “I remember the first words you ever said to me,” I said. “It was the night I was attacked. You had your arm around me, there on the grass, and you told me to be still.”

  He rose onto his elbows and stared at me. I’d never told him that I’d remembered that much of it, of what had happened, and what he’d said. But those words—those two small and impossibly huge words—still had the same power.

  “You remember that.”

  I nodded. “I think that’s important, Ethan. I think that matters. I don’t remember anything he said or did, just the pain he caused, that he ran away like a coward.” Like he always seemed to do. “But I remember what you said to me. Those two words were, I guess, an incantation.”

  He balanced his head on his curled fist, reached up to brush hair from my face. “I remember how pale you’d been, and how lovely. I was afraid we’d been too late. But we weren’t. And you grew angry, and then you grew to accept who you were.”

  “And you grew to accept who I was. Except for those times you’re still overprotective.”

  “I’ll never stop being overprotective. Not because I don’t believe in you, or trust you. But because that’s who I am. That’s what being a Master is all about.”

  “And yet you named me Sentinel. The one person whose job is to argue with you.”

  “Not just argue,” he said with a grin. “Although it often seems that way.”

  Taking a ploy from Mallory, I thumped him on the ear.

  “Ow,” he said with a laugh, and pulled his earlobe. “It’s about checks and balances, Merit. The point of all this is that we’ve changed. We’ve grown and evolved since the night I met you, and the night you met me.” He put a hand on my stomach. “And someday, we’ll have a child. A family. That won’t be easy—having a child, having a vampire child, and having the first vampire child. But we’ll manage it.”

  “How, exactly, do you think that’s going to happen?”

  He shifted into Master vampire. Mouth slightly quirked in a grin, one eyebrow arched imperiously as he looked back at me. “I’m fairly certain you know exactly how it happens, Sentinel.”

  What was it with people and the conception jokes? “You know I didn’t mean that. I meant, you know”—I circled a finger toward my lower half—“the unproven mechanics of vampire gestation. To not put too fine a point on it, what’s going to keep him or her in there?”

  His face went utterly serious. “Sentinel, I honestly do not know.” He pressed his lips to warm skin. “Shall we try to let nature take its course?”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  SALEM’S FIRE

  Jonah’s message was waiting the next evening, a single question mark that somehow managed to query and chastise at the same time.

  It was so easy to have opinions, and so much harder to actually do things. Which was one thing I planned on talking to the RG about.

  I offered a time that would give me a chance to get dressed, changed, and fed. I still felt low after the past night’s battle, despite the good that being on the same page with Ethan had done.

  After grabbing a breakfast wrap in the cafeteria with Lindsey and Juliet, I stopped by Ethan’s office. He, Malik, and Luc were chatting when I walked in.

  “Did I miss a meeting?” I asked.

  “No,” Ethan said, Malik and Luc splitting apart to let me join their circle. “We were reviewing the photographs of last night’s perpetrator.”

  Ethan extended the portrait-sized color photograph to me, and I could feel him watching my reaction.

  Luc had been right last night. The video was grainy, but it was definitely him. The brooding eyes, the beard, the muscles.

  “Yeah.” I looked at Ethan first, nodded just a little to assure him that I was okay. “Recognizable enough. Does he look familiar to either
of you?”

  “Not to me,” Malik said. “Not as a Novitiate or an attacker. It was dark that night, and he moved quickly.”

  “No dice for me, either,” Luc said.

  “Nor me,” Ethan said. “You’re going to talk to Noah?”

  “I’m working on a meet, yeah. Can I borrow the photograph?”

  “Take it,” Luc said. “I’ve printed a few more, and we’ve alerted the Houses. We’ll also run it against the database of Housed vampires, just in case. It’s always possible he was a Housed vampire once upon a time and left.”

  “Not unlike Caleb Franklin, who was an official Pack member once upon a time,” I said. “Thank you again.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Luc said. “He threatens you, he threatens the House.” He patted my arm. “You’re one of us, Sentinel. For better or worse.”

  “Some nights I presume it definitely feels worse,” Malik said sympathetically, then glanced at Ethan. “I’m going to get back to fielding calls.”

  “And I’m going back to the Ops Room.” Luc put a collegial arm around Malik’s shoulder. “Hey, did I ever tell you about Calamity Jane?” he asked as they walked to the door.

  I looked back at Ethan. “I’m shocked I hadn’t heard that story before now. Seems like he enjoys telling it.”

  “It’s in the rotation,” Ethan agreed.

  “What calls is Malik fielding?”

  “Press,” Ethan said, and walked to his desk, then behind it. There was a stack of papers there, and the light on his phone was blinking fiercely. “The Tribune, the Sun-Times, the Chicago World Weekly.”

  The first two were legit. The Chicago World Weekly was the city’s gossip paper.

  “Who reads the Weekly?” I asked, taking the paper from the stack. I was in the color photograph on the front page, Hailey Stanton in my arms. VAMPIRE SAVIOR? was the headline.

  “Not the worst headline I’ve ever read,” I said. “Overblown, but generally positive.” It had been a crappy week for vampires, but a pretty good week for vampire press.

  “It’s not bad,” Ethan agreed. “The print media are generally positive. The Internet is the usual mix of praise, condescension, idiocy, and trolls.” He glanced at his computer. “And, at last check, four marriage proposals for my Sentinel.”

  My mood brightened, and I leaned toward the desk, trying to see around to the screen. “Really? Any good candidates?”

  “I don’t find that amusing.”

  “I don’t find fake proposals amusing.” I grinned and spread my hands. “And yet here we are.”

  Ethan’s gaze went so immediately sly that my heart skipped a beat in anticipation.

  “At any rate,” he said, smiling as he looked at the screen again, “there are several requests for statements, for interviews, for information about the perpetrator and the reason you chased him.”

  “They’ll find out sooner or later who he is and what he did.”

  “They may,” Ethan agreed. “You don’t have to talk about that unless you want to; Malik won’t respond to any questions in that regard. But at the risk of sounding overly strategic, should you decide to discuss it, it would help build the case against Reed.”

  I nodded. “I’ve thought about that. Depends on whether we need it or not. Problem is, I’m relatively small dice. He has too much goodwill in the city, even if he didn’t come by it honestly. If we’re going to bring him down—and by God we’re going to bring him down—it will have to be big. We need a break, and soon.” We also needed allies, I thought, and glanced at Ethan with speculation. “Have you talked to Gabriel?”

  “I haven’t.”

  I guessed that meant Gabriel hadn’t called him, and he hadn’t reached out. Since we weren’t fighting (at the moment), I opted to poke the bear. “And do you think you should?”

  “That’s a bit passive-aggressive for you.”

  “I learned the technique from Meredith Merit, mistress of passive-aggressive.” That was my mother.

  My phone beeped, and I checked the screen. FIFTEEN MINUTES, was the entire message from Jonah, and it took me a moment to grasp the meaning. I had fifteen minutes to get to the meet with Noah, and since Jonah hadn’t specified a location, the meeting place would be the Chicago Lighthouse, not far from Navy Pier.

  There was no way I’d make it from Hyde Park to Navy Pier in fifteen minutes, much less over the breakwater I’d have to climb to get into the lighthouse.

  They were setting me up to be late, which was a remarkably petty thing to do. Was Jonah that pissed, or was this punishment for my not having bowed to the RG’s demands?

  Not that it mattered. I’d asked for information, and this was his offer. I didn’t have a lot of choice.

  I looked at Ethan. “I don’t suppose you could get me downtown in fifteen minutes?”

  He smiled with masculine enjoyment. “Let’s find out.”

  • • •

  It took him eighteen minutes and, by my count, fourteen seconds. That was no fault of Ethan or the car. The LSD was a nightmare, as it had been all week.

  Ethan didn’t know exactly where the RG was located, but due to the spying of one of his former flames, he knew it was near Navy Pier. I was perfectly fine with his ignorance of the details. That was need-to-know information, and not even my lover and the Master of Cadogan House needed to know it.

  “Just drop me off here,” I said as he pulled the car to a stop in front of the pier.

  “I can walk you in.”

  “I have to draw a line somewhere. Might as well be in front of Bubba Gump Shrimp.” I leaned over and kissed him hard on the lips. “Don’t follow me.”

  “I would do no such thing.”

  “You absolutely would, partly because you’re curious, and partly because you enjoy vampire lording.”

  “I do not lord.” Ethan bit off each word.

  “Oh, you lord,” I said. “That’s why we call you Sire and obey your every whim and command.”

  His eyes sparked, light passing through peridot. “I am but a common soldier.”

  I snorted. That had been an insult leveled at me by that same former flame. “Yeah, pal. Me, too.” I climbed out of his luxury vampire lording car, closed the door, and leaned in through the window.

  “How will you get home?” he asked.

  “Taxi,” I said. “I’ll message you when I’m on my way. And if we’re lucky, I’ll bring information with me.”

  “Good luck,” he said, his expression utterly serious now. “And take care.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I promised, then watched the car speed away.

  I looked back at the lake, the broken shoal that led to the lighthouse. I was going to need all the luck I could get.

  • • •

  Unless you had a boat, traversing the barrier of rocks and riprap that made up the harbor’s protective wall was the only way to get to the RG’s HQ. Jonah had once hinted that the RG had just such a vessel, but they certainly weren’t sending it for me.

  The breakwater was several hundred yards long, and it took precious time to make my way across it, which certainly wasn’t going to help with my punctuality problem. The trip wasn’t an easy one. The hulking chunks of concrete were meant to keep the harbor safe, not provide a walking path. To the contrary—anyone making the attempt would have been thwarted pretty easily.

  The lighthouse itself was called a “spark plug,” a shout-out to its slightly stumpy shape. I climbed the rusty ladder that led to the main platform, wiped my dirty hands on my pants, and walked around to the red door that led inside.

  I waited for a moment before knocking, gathering up the self-righteousness I was going to need if there was going to be any headway. Knocking making me suddenly self-conscious (and not just because I’d be facing the partner I’d seen only once in a matter of weeks), I straightened t
he hem of my jacket.

  They made me wait for a solid two minutes before opening the door.

  Jonah greeted me, wearing jeans and a dark Henley shirt, his hair tucked behind his ears. “Come in,” he said, and stepped aside.

  I walked into the room, which was heavy on the brass, nautical accents, and 1970s décor. Half a dozen vampires were in the room, and none of them looked pleased to see me. I didn’t recognize many. RG members weren’t in the same place at the same time very often.

  I did recognize the man at the small table on the other side of the room—tall and thin, with pale skin, dark hair, and enormous, fuzzy sideburns. Horace had been a soldier in the Civil War. His girlfriend, a petite woman with dark skin and a cloud of dark hair, walked into the room, moved to stand beside him.

  It was common—hell, maybe even expected—for RG partners to date. That was another bit of tension between me and Jonah.

  I’d seen Horace’s girlfriend a couple of times but still hadn’t learned her name. From the expression on her face, which wasn’t exactly friendly, I guessed I wouldn’t be learning it tonight.

  “You’re late,” said a voice from an interior doorway.

  I glanced back. Noah Beck, broad-shouldered, with pale skin and shaggy brown hair, his eyes bright blue, walked into the room. He wore a Midnight High School T-shirt, dark blue with a white spider icon across the front. All RG members got T-shirts for the faux high school; we wore them in the rare times we appeared together in public to help identify one another.

  Noah walked to the table, put a hip on the edge, crossed his hands in front of him. The other vampires gathered around him, like a posse coming together to battle a common enemy. Jonah stayed closer to me, but positioned so that I stood between him and the rest of the guards. Symbolic enough that I wondered if he’d done it on purpose.

  The room quickly filled with magic, and none of it friendly.

  “I was at the House,” I said. “I came as soon as I got your message.” I let my flat voice point out the obvious—I could only get here so quickly.

  “We haven’t seen you around much,” Noah said. “Except in the papers, of course.”