Wild Hunger

by Chloe Neill

  “We fought,” I said. “And we were outnumbered. And then Connor showed up.”

  “That’s awfully coincidental,” my mother said, glancing at him.

  “Right place, right time,” Connor said.

  My mother looked dubious, but didn’t object.

  “You could have been killed.”

  I looked at my father. “I’m fine. But Riley’s in a cage.”

  “You were given express instructions not to interfere with this investigation.”

  We all looked at Yuen. The anger or frustration he’d been holding in had apparently boiled over. I’d figured him for calm and collected, at least in comparison to Dearborn. But there was no calm in his eyes right now.

  “We didn’t interfere with your investigation,” I said. “You weren’t investigating the fairies because you’ve already decided Riley’s guilty. We’ve found a new suspect.”

  Yuen stepped forward. “That is beside the point. You violated Cadogan’s contract with the city. Penalties will be assessed, financially and legally.”

  Damn it. There was no way to avoid this now, no time to prepare my father. “The deal doesn’t apply to me.”

  “As a member of Cadogan House—”

  “I’m not a member of Cadogan House,” I interrupted, and steeled myself, made myself look at my father. “I’m the daughter of its Master, but I’m not a Novitiate. I was never Initiated or Commended. I’m not a member of any particular House. That makes me a Rogue. And Rogues didn’t sign the deal.”

  The room went absolutely silent. And my father’s expression went absolutely blank. And a little bit lost. My heart clenched uncomfortably.

  Gabriel walked to Yuen, put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to get some coffee, and you’re going to go with me.” He all but pushed Yuen out of the room. Connor and Theo followed, Connor giving me a supportive nod over his shoulder.

  They closed the door and left us in silence.

  It was a full minute before my father spoke.

  “You are as much a member of this House as anyone ever has been or will be,” he said. And I could plainly see the hurt in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I wanted to talk to you about this before I said anything, but there hasn’t been time. Cadogan House is my family,” I said, wanting to take a step toward him but not sure if that was the right thing to do. “It always has been. I didn’t grow up feeling excluded.” That would have been impossible in a House that had basically adopted me as its mascot.

  “But you weren’t Commended,” he said. “Not officially. And you consider yourself a Rogue.”

  “I don’t consider myself anything,” I said, not realizing it until the words were out. Maybe that’s why I’d felt such a strong kinship with Maison Dumas. Because I hadn’t had the same connection to Cadogan, at least not like my parents had. And maybe that’s one of the reasons Seri and Marion’s leaving had hurt so much. Because Dumas had been my House as much as any other. But when it had been time to run, they’d left me here.

  “I’m not sure I agree with your argument,” my father said. “But there’s no precedent to measure our behavior against. You were the first child. The Canon had nothing to offer.” The Canon was the collection of vampire laws. “But if you’re right,” he continued, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that we didn’t think to make it official.”

  His voice was colder now, controlled in a way that only a Master with experience could manage. He stood apart from us, and my mother looked between us with concern, trying not to take sides.

  “I didn’t feel excluded,” I said again. It was the only thing I could think so say. “And in this particular situation, it’s handy.”

  My father nodded. “Tell them we’re done here, will you? And ready to discuss the rest of it.”

  I nodded, knowing I’d been dismissed. And left my parents alone, with a cold ball in my stomach.

  * * *

  • • •

  “She’s right,” my father said when the others were back in the room. Theo came in with coffee, offered me a cup. But my appetite—even for caffeine—was gone. Connor watched me carefully, as if trying to gauge how the talk had gone. I didn’t meet his eyes; I wasn’t ready to dive into those feelings.

  “She wasn’t Initiated into the House or Commended, and the Canon doesn’t provide for membership based solely on a genetic or familial relationship.”

  “That’s a technicality,” Yuen said.

  “No,” my father said, “it’s a contract. If you want to enforce the deal so carefully negotiated according to its terms, then you have to adhere to those terms.”

  I thought I saw appreciation in Yuen’s eyes.

  “This isn’t you, Yuen,” my father continued, his voice softer now. “I’m sure Dearborn is angry, but you know better.”

  “Could I trouble you for a drink?” Yuen asked after a moment, and my father smiled.

  “That bad, is it?”

  “Dearborn’s pissed,” Theo said as my father went to the bar, poured two fingers of Scotch, neat, into a chubby glass, then offered it to Yuen. Yuen sipped, lifted his brows.

  “Very nice.”

  “Very old,” my father said. “And it does the job.”

  Yuen nodded. “Dearborn is furious. He had convinced the mayor the peace talks were his idea, rather than yours,” he said, looking at my parents. “He cares less about their effectiveness in reducing violence than the political reward of hosting a well-received event in Chicago.”

  “He’s a player,” Gabriel said. “Or imagines himself to be one.”

  “Yes. Ruadan’s call was routed first to him, and his . . . displeasure was passed to the rest of us, with orders to fix the situation immediately.”

  “With your magic wand?” Gabriel asked with a smirk.

  “Something like that. I suspect he wants Riley locked away, literally and figuratively, so he can assure the mayor and the rest of the delegates that Tomas’s death was an unfortunate act by a lone wolf—pun intended—that won’t affect the talks going forward.”

  Yuen looked at Gabriel. “He’ll use Riley as a scapegoat if he can. Even if that means the rest of you go down, too.”

  “Alaska cannot come soon enough,” Gabriel muttered, but the fury in his eyes belied his casual tone.

  I’d put their trip out of my mind, and was disappointed to remember it now. Not just because Connor had helped us last night, but because it seemed like we were starting to interact like adults, were putting aside our history. We were becoming friends, or something like it.

  “My hands are tied,” Yuen said, “as are those of Cadogan House.” He shifted his gaze to me. “But perhaps Elisa has some flexibility. If you want to secure Riley’s release, you’ll need evidence—solid evidence—that he’s not involved.”

  I smiled thinly. “Then let’s get to business.”

  * * *

  • • •

  We sent the reception video footage to Kelley, asked her to run the fairy’s image against the House’s surveillance video of the party.

  While that was underway, we talked through the visit to the castle again to see if there was anything we’d missed. We didn’t come up with anything new, but I did wonder about the effect of our visit.

  I looked at Yuen. “You said Ruadan called you? Why not Claudia?”

  He blinked. “I presumed she delegated the task to him. He’s younger, more comfortable with technology.”

  “Claudia wasn’t in the gatehouse,” Connor said. “Maybe Ruadan was handling the matter himself under her orders, so it was his duty to complain.” He frowned. “But it didn’t have that feeling—like he was there solely to protect her interests.”

  “It didn’t,” I agreed. “It felt like he was playing king.”

  “And perhaps the phone call was another example of that?” Yue
n asked, nodding. “That’s a possibility. He might have designs on the throne.”

  “Fading magic,” Gabriel said, and we all looked at him. “Ruadan is young. He was born after the Egregore. Fairies have been powerful his entire life, and that’s changing now.” He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe he’s angry about that process and blames Claudia for it.”

  “What could she have done differently?” my mother asked.

  “That’s the question, isn’t it?” Gabriel said. “Possibly nothing. But maybe Ruadan has other ideas.”

  “They let us leave,” I said. “At least in part because they didn’t want to incite the Pack’s wrath, but I don’t think that was all of it. I think they have something else planned, and it must have something to do with the talks, right? That’s when all this started. Maybe the question isn’t who killed Tomas. It’s who wants the peace talks interrupted—and to breach the peace in Chicago in the process.”

  “And why,” Yuen said, then glanced at my parents. “You’ve had experience with the fairies.”

  “We hired them,” my father said. “They were called mercenary fairies then, because that’s how they presented themselves. They were skilled and merciless and available for hire. They guarded the House during daylight hours, when we were asleep, for many years, until they turned their weapons against us. They are capricious. And as the ‘mercenary’ moniker should have warned me, they were, apparently, available to the highest bidder.”

  “The Greenwich Presidium,” my mother said. “Cadogan House held an artifact Claudia wanted. They turned on us to obtain it. Gold and jewels are especially alluring.”

  “They don’t believe in romantic love,” my father said. “But Claudia had an apparently meaningful relationship with what we’d have called a demon. And she was the one who told us about the spread of Sorcha’s power across Chicago.”

  “Her behaviors are inconsistent,” Yuen said.

  “Externally, yes,” my father said. “But internally, they’re entirely consistent. She is the center, always. She wanted coin, so she offered the fairies to the House as security. She wanted the jewel, so she offered her services to the GP instead.”

  “And then there was the green land,” my mother said, reaching out to take my father’s hand. She breathed in slowly, as if preparing herself, and then looked at Yuen.

  “Before they lost their power, the fairies lived in what they called Emain Ablach, the ‘green land.’ They came to Chicago but retained their connection to that realm. When Claudia came to Cadogan House to talk to us about Sorcha, she made the green land”—she made a waving motion—“sweep over us. It was a beautiful place. Hilly and green and cool. We could smell the ocean on the breeze, hear the grass rustling. And there was a little girl.”

  She looked at me.

  “This wasn’t long before we got pregnant. But it hadn’t happened yet, and we didn’t know if it would ever happen.” Her gaze lost focus as she walked through the memory. “We heard this laugh—a child’s laugh—but there was no one around. No parent she might have belonged to, except for us. I don’t know how we knew it, but we knew she was ours.”

  Her voice softened to a whisper. “In that moment, there was absolute happiness. But it was only for a moment. Claudia brought us back here. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say the green land was taken away from us. The sense of loss was . . . devastating. It felt like we’d lost her for real.”

  She looked at me again. “It hurt to come back. To leave that—and her—behind, especially when we didn’t fully trust the prophecy. What if that had been our only chance with her? With you?” She breathed out heavily through pursed lips, obviously working to control her emotions.

  “I’m here,” I said, and smiled.

  “I know. And we’re glad. Usually,” she added with a grin, her way of diffusing the emotion in the room. “I guess the point is, the green land is a powerful place for fairies. I don’t know if they were able to increase their connection to it after Sorcha, when their power was stronger. But either way, I’d bet their connection is less now.” She looked at Yuen. “Maybe that’s what this is all about—thinking political power is how they obtain the magic they need.”

  “Unclear,” he said. “But the more information we have, the better the chance we can deal with them before they get out of hand. Or further out of hand.”

  “Maybe insinuating themselves into the peace talks is an effort to get the power they need.” I looked at my father. “You heard about the French delegation?”

  “What about them?” Yuen asked.

  “Chevalier and Dumas went back to Paris near dawn,” my father said.

  Good, I thought. At least they’d done him the courtesy of telling him directly.

  “What did Seraphine have to say about this?” my mother asked, frowning as she walked to me, then took my hand.

  “That the talks had been disrupted and there wasn’t a reasonable chance they’d work, so Marion and Victor voted to go home and deal with problems on the ground.”

  “I’m sorry,” my mother said. “I’m so sorry they left the way they did. I believe I’d take that very personally.”

  “It’s hard not to,” I admitted. “But Lulu’s letting me stay at her loft, so that helps.”

  My mother smiled. “I left Mallory’s to come here, and now Lulu’s taking you home to her place. That seems about right.”

  “There will be no talks without France,” Yuen said.

  “I told Seri that. She was apologetic, but . . .”

  “But they still got on the plane,” Connor said.

  I nodded.

  “The delegates from Spain left early yesterday evening. The other delegates remain in town,” my father said. “They opted to cancel tonight’s session, given the absences, but I understand some of the delegates will be meeting together in smaller groups.”

  “So there’s still hope,” my mother said.

  “Fading hope,” he said. “I don’t blame Spain, and I don’t blame France. I don’t know who to blame.” He looked at me. “But the fairies seem to be at the top of that list.”

  The room got quiet, all of us probably wondering what would happen next.

  “You should find Claudia,” I said to Yuen.

  “Claudia?”

  “Either she’s directing Ruadan, so this is her fault, or she doesn’t know what he’s doing and she needs to. She has to be the key here.”

  Yuen looked at Theo and me. “Go back to the castle and demand to talk to Claudia. Tell them you’re there on behalf of the Ombudsman, and you have CPD support. Take a couple of officers with you if you need to. But talk to her.”

  Theo nodded. “And Dearborn?”

  “He might see your communicating with the fairies—because it’s inconsistent with Riley’s guilt—as a rejection of his authority. So you can say no to the task, and I won’t hold it against you.”

  “No, I’ll go,” Theo said enthusiastically. “Dearborn can shove his authority up his pompous ass.”

  “Oh, I like him,” my mother murmured.

  “I’ll go with you,” I said. “You don’t want to go in there alone.” I looked at my parents, tried to reassure them with a glance that I could handle myself. My mother nodded back. I might have been her child, but I was an immortal and I was strong. And they’d have to let me take my chances.

  I looked at my father, and his expression was still carefully blank. He was very good at that. I chalked it up to four hundred years of experience.

  “We’ll focus on the peace talks,” he said. “Try to keep the remaining delegates in the country. Perhaps they would be amenable to discussions here.”

  “The ballroom,” my mother said with a nod. “It’s a good thought, presuming we can keep the fairies out.”

  My father’s voice was dry. “We will keep the fairies out.” He glanced at Yuen. “And we
’ll advise you of the results of the video search.”

  “Then I’ll leave you to it,” Yuen said, glancing between me and Theo. “Be careful out there. And report in frequently.”

  “Will do, boss.” He looked at me. “You ready?”

  I glanced at my parents, then back at Theo. “Can you give me a few minutes?”

  “Sure, I’ll be outside. Head out when you’re done.” And he looked back at the door. “Okay if I grab something from the kitchen?”

  “Go for it,” I said.

  In the time we made those arrangements, my father was gone, leaving my mother and me alone in his office.

  “He went to talk to Kelley,” my mother said. “I think he needed a few minutes.”

  I nodded.

  “You could have handled it better,” she said. “You could have talked to him first.”

  “I meant to—I was going to. Yuen got here earlier than I thought he would.” Or the Auto had gotten me here later. But, really, neither of those mattered. It was my doing, my fault for not taking him aside first.

  “You’re right,” I said. “I should have.” And the thought that I’d hurt him curled my stomach again. “Should I talk to him about it?”

  “Why don’t you give him a little time?” she suggested. “This isn’t just about Cadogan House, but about his being your father. He’ll be hurt that you didn’t talk to him, and guilty that he failed you by not making you a full member.”

  “He didn’t fail me.”

  “But he’ll think he did,” she said, not unkindly. “He loves you, and he loves this House. And your being part of the House—that’s important to him, too.”

  I nodded, feeling miserable and hating that there was no quick fix for it.

  She put an arm around my shoulders. “You’ve had a hard homecoming. I’m glad Lulu’s there for you. And that Connor was there.”

  “Not for long. He’s taking the Pack to Alaska.”

  “I know. How do you feel about that?”

  I gave her a narrow-eyed stare. “What do you mean, how do I feel about it?”

  She just looked at me for a moment. “How do you feel about his leaving?” she finally asked. “You’ve been spending more time together since you’ve gotten back. And he helped you out last night.”