by Neill, Chloe
“You don’t know anything about me or my family.”
“I know too much,” I said, the honest truth. “And I know you can’t force a family with magic just because you’re pissed off at the real one.”
I’d pushed her over the edge. She let out a scream, whipped around the shopping bag, and slung it at me. I put up an arm to dodge it, wincing when the weight of it hit my arm. Using my hesitation, she took off across the park.
And so the chase began.
She’s heading for the trailers, I told Ethan, running full out and trying to close the gap between us. She hurdled a bench and I followed, thrilled when the vault put me five feet closer to her.
I paused long enough to pluck the dagger from my boot and send it spiraling, end over end, in her direction.
Regan yelped when it bit into her shoulder, stumbled forward but caught herself, yanked it out with a scream.
The scents of smoke and sulfur grew stronger. When she turned back to me, the dagger glinting in her hand, there was murder in her eyes. “Do you know what I am?”
“I do,” I assured her, unsheathing my katana and settling my fingers around the handle. I kept my gaze on hers, and my expression just as haughty.
“You’re the daughter of Dominic Tate. The niece of Seth Tate, former mayor of Chicago, and an angel. You’re also a spoiled brat. But that’s just my opinion.”
Regan launched herself forward, swiping the blade in a shot I neatly dodged.
I sliced horizontally, and she ducked to avoid the blow, bringing up the dagger with a clean shot that nicked my shin. A line of pain burned hot, but I ignored it, finished my spin, and attacked downward.
She rolled across the ground, popping up a few feet away. We circled each other, and as we turned, I caught movement from the corner of my eye—Ethan stood nearby, his sword still sheathed but his eyes cold and calculating.
Feel free to join in, I told him, jumping back to dodge her advance and the tip of the blade.
You seem to be managing fine on your own. The sups are unspelled and released. You might mention that to her.
“The gig’s up, Regan. The sups are gone. It’s just you and me.”
She cursed, moved forward, dropping the blade and using the weight of her body to send me to the ground. My katana skidded away, and snow seeped into the gaps in my leather, sending wet trickles down hot skin.
“They’re my family,” she yelled, trying to pummel me into submission.
“They have . . . their own . . . families,” I reminded her. I grabbed her fist, twisted, and pushed her over, pinning her to the ground.
I was faster, but she was stronger. Regan screamed, threw me off and away. I flew back six feet, skidding across the ground.
I believe now I might join you, Ethan said.
Too late, I told him, wiping blood from my eye. She’s mine.
I put my hands behind me, flipped to my feet, and snatched my katana from the ground, spinning as I turned to face her again.
She flew out an arm and a crackle of magic that sent the tree behind us to the ground with an enormous crack. I jumped as it fell to the ground a foot away, branches swaying with the force of the movement, and a sizzling, chemical scent in the air.
“You’re a little old for tantrum throwing, aren’t you?” I asked, jumping atop a branch and rolling the katana in my fingers.
“I’ll show you a tantrum,” she said, holding out her palms, a fiery sword appearing between them. She immediately swung it at me, and I neatly dodged and sliced again.
“Of course she has a flaming sword,” I murmured, dodging another slice. Regan didn’t have the training—her movements made that obvious—but she had strength and magic enough to wield her flaming steel like a champion.
Sirens rose in the distance, and I caught my chance. I dodged, sliced, and moved gradually toward the sidewalk and the blue and red lights that were racing up the street.
She let out a low growl, my hair standing on end as she prepared to throw out another blade of magic.
I ducked and hit the ground as a sizzle lit the air. But it was Regan who crumpled, the sword in her hand disappearing with a puff of smoke.
We looked behind us, where Detective Jacobs stood beside a squad car, a Taser in hand. He smiled, his smile a deep crevice in his dark skin.
“Just thought I’d offer you a hand,” he said with a wink.
I’d always liked him.
• • •
Ethan applied the cuffs, and Catcher helped transport Regan into the back of Detective Jacobs’s vehicle.
When possession was transferred to him, they walked back to where Ethan and I stood by, just close enough to ensure she’d been taken into custody.
“That will hold her,” Catcher said. “They’re going to use the same dampening magic they used on Tate. Apparently the corrections departments across the U.S. have developed some pretty good skills in that area.”
“I’ll contact Gabriel,” Damien said, nodding toward Niera and Aline, who sat on opposite ends of a nearby bench. Even in crisis, there was no friendship between these particular clans.
Aline stood and walked toward us, looked at me and Ethan.
“I don’t know that I trust you. But I know how to give thanks where thanks are due.”
She held out a hand. Dumbfounded, I accepted it. The deed done, she turned and walked back to the bench, where she sat sullenly again.
“Well, that happened,” I said. “I don’t know if that moment of friendship will stick, but it’s a start.”
“Sometimes,” Ethan said, “that’s the best we can hope for.”
“And speaking of hope,” I said, glancing at Niera, “we have a truce to make good on.”
• • •
They stood in long, precise columns that stretched across the field near their village. They’d traded their simple tunics for gleaming armor and open helms with thin guards that covered their noses, and each held a bow and arrow. There must have been thousands of them, and they stood with robotic precision, ready for action.
Perhaps not so unlike the metaphorical locusts.
We stood in front of them, a smaller group than the last time we’d met. The Brecks, the Keenes, Ethan, and me. More vulnerable to the elves without an army behind us, and trusting that they’d stand by their word.
But not so trusting that we didn’t have our swords unsheathed and at the ready.
And at my side stood Niera. She made no sound, just as during the trip to the Brecks’ estate. But she’d stared at the sights with a mix of wonderment and fear that sent magic through the car. It seemed the elves had avoided all contact with the metropolis that lay at the edge of their territory.
The elf who’d presented us after the kidnapping—or so I thought, as like the fairies, they looked fraternally similar—stepped forward, a standard-bearer at his side.
“A truce was called,” he said, “pursuant to the terms of our pact. What say you now?”
Gabriel stepped forward. “Your clanswoman Niera was taken against her will, by a creature of immense power. We identified the creature. Tracked her. Obtained Niera’s release. And we bring her back to you today.”
He gestured toward Niera, who stepped forward.
The elf’s expression stayed mild, controlled, but there was relief in his eyes.
Niera walked toward him and into his embrace. There were shouts of joy and relief from the elves, and a burst of fresh magic, until the army swallowed Niera into its ranks once again.
“The pact has been fulfilled,” Gabriel said.
“For now,” the elf agreed. “We will see what the future holds.” They turned on their heels and began the silent march back to their wood.
We watched in silence until they’d disappeared completely, until the trees no longer shook from the army’s intrusio
n.
“I don’t know about you,” Gabriel said, “but I think it’s time for a drink.”
Chapter Twenty-one
ORANGE IS THE NEW BLACK
At dusk the next evening, Lakshmi arrived to discuss the GP and its variety of issues, looking gorgeous in a sleek black dress with an asymmetrical neckline and stiletto heels. I stood in the foyer with Luc, Malik, and Helen, nodding politely as she arrived, and then directing her to Ethan’s office.
“And now, once again, we wait,” Luc said with a grumble. “I swear to God, I spend half my time doing that.”
I didn’t disagree. But I’d already arranged a way to spend the time.
An hour later, I stood at the tall fence outside the former brick factory where the CPD had held Seth Tate once upon a time, and where they now held his niece.
And now, thanks to Detective Jacobs, Regan and her uncle were going to have their own reunion.
A taxi pulled up the long drive, and after exchanging bills, a man emerged. He had short sandy hair and a thick nose, and he wore khakis and a button-down shirt.
Seth Tate could have passed for an accountant, but he still smelled like freshly baked cookies.
“Nice disguise,” I said.
He nodded. “They’ll have the building warded, so I had to go old-school.”
Headlights appeared in the darkness, and a golf cart pulled up to the gate. A young, fit woman in a black uniform climbed out and walked to the gate.
“Caroline Merit and John Smith?”
I waved a little bit. “That’s us.”
She nodded officially, unlocked the gate, and held it open for us.
“Mind the gap,” she said, gesturing toward the bench on the back of the cart.
“John Smith?” Seth murmured as he took a seat beside me.
“The alias wasn’t really the key component of the plan,” I said, as the guard accelerated and we bobbled down the gravel road. The factory was actually a set of several large buildings used to mold and fire bricks during wartime. Seth had been held in a small stand-alone building, but we passed it as we headed toward a long single-story building on the other side of the compound.
“Are you nervous?” I quietly asked, as his gaze settled on his former prison cell.
“A little,” he admitted. “I’ve never had a niece before. Or a relative of any kind other than Dominic. And I’m not sure he counted.”
“More a supernatural parasite.”
“And yet he was sentient enough to control me. To connect with a woman and father a child.”
But Dominic had been a lover in his time. He’d seduced Claudia, the queen of the fairies. It had been her love that bound Dominic to Seth and kept him out of the Maleficium.
The guard stopped in front of the entrance and escorted us into the building. It was a large empty space but for the series of small square rooms that dotted the concrete floor. Guards were stationed here and there, and they had the look of well-seasoned military types.
The mayor wasn’t taking any chances with Regan. And she now had a facility to hold a small supernatural army. Not a comforting thought.
“She’s in the first one,” the guard said, gesturing us forward. The rooms were made of concrete, with a window and door on the front side. “You can go ahead.”
We walked toward the window, peered inside.
Regan sat at an aluminum table, and she’d exchanged her designer clothes for an orange jumpsuit. She moved nervously in her chair, kept nervously touching her hair. She might have been a badass in her element, but here she looked small and insecure.
I glanced at Seth.
He watched her, head angled, eyes wide, for a long moment. “There’s more of him in her than I’d have imagined,” he finally said.
“Is that good or bad?”
“I’m not certain.”
“All things considered, I don’t know if she’s capable of contrition. But maybe you can give her peace. Maybe you can ensure she doesn’t hurt anyone else.”
Seth nodded. There weren’t many times I’d seen him nervous. But here, facing the family he hadn’t known he had, he looked absolutely bewildered.
“You can do this,” I said. “And right now, I don’t think you even have to be good at it. You just have to be there.”
He squeezed my hand. “You are wise beyond your years, Ballerina.”
“Immortality tends to do that,” I murmured.
Seth blew out a breath, put a hand on the door, and walked inside.
Regan looked up as Seth walked in and sat down in the chair across from her.
“What’s going on in there?” the guard asked, moving closer to the door.
“A family reunion.”
Maybe a little family would do them both some good.
• • •
They talked for nearly an hour, which was all the time Jacobs could eke out of the mayor considering the multiple charges against Regan.
I stood by watching from the window with the guard until Seth’s hour was up and the guard knocked on the door again.
Seth squeezed Regan’s hand, rose, and came to the door.
When he stepped outside, his gaze found mine. There was a disconcertingly familiar intensity in his eyes that scared me to the bone. Had I made a mistake, bringing him here? Putting the two of them together?
“You’re all right?”
He nodded, and a smile blossomed. “I can’t thank you enough for this. For arranging this reunion after everything that’s happened.”
I hadn’t expected thanks, and it flustered me. “You’re welcome. It went okay?”
“It did,” he said, scratching his head nervously. “She’s got issues. Many of them involve Dominic; others, magic. But I think there’s a chance for her, Merit.”
I glanced back at Regan and thought about what Gabe had said at Lupercalia, there with Mallory in front of the totem before things had gone so wrong. About those brave enough to crawl back from their wrongs and try to make things better.
“The supernaturals in her menagerie were well cared for. She told me she thought of them as family. Maybe that’s what she needs now. Maybe she is capable of contrition; maybe she isn’t. But she’s yours, and you deserve the chance to help her try.”
“Oh, I intend to,” he said, and before I could respond, he pulled off his wig and the plastic that had covered his nose. He ran a hand through his dark hair, smiled at the guard.
The guard, whom Tate had finally managed to shake, swallowed hard. “You’re—you’re the mayor.”
“Former,” Seth said with a soft smile. “Now I’m just a man, and I believe you’ll find there are warrants out for my arrest. I’ve been avoiding my punishment. But I’ll take it now.”
The guard looked at him for a moment, then back at me, clearly unsure what to do. It couldn’t have been every day that she was faced with a felon who offered himself up to incarceration.
“It’s no trick,” Seth said. “I’m just finally—after too long—doing the right thing. I’d like to serve my time honorably.”
Another moment passed, but the guard relented. “All right, then,” she said, gesturing two more guards forward. While they watched Tate with weapons drawn, she cuffed his wrists with zip strips she’d pulled from a pouch on her belt.
“You have a right to talk to a lawyer,” she said, putting a hand on his arm.
“No need,” he said. “But you might want to call the mayor.”
When the guard gestured toward the second room, Seth looked back at me and smiled magnanimously.
“What are you doing?” I asked, still completely dumbfounded.
“Neither Dominic nor I protected her before. But if I’m here, I can protect her now. At least in some way.”
And he let the guard lead him away.
• •
•
The House cafeteria was located in the back of the first floor, the large windows looking out over the beautiful grounds that surrounded the House. Snow still glistened magically there. It was between meals, so the cafeteria was empty but for the bustle of staff who worked to prepare the next round of meals for the vampires.
Ethan wasn’t yet done with Lakshmi, so I sat at a wooden table in a wooden chair beside one of the windows and stared out across the lawn at the banks of trees and hillocks of undisturbed snow. A rabbit darted into view, paused and looked around for predators, then dashed away to safety again.
At the sound of footsteps, I looked up. Ethan walked into the room, then over to a glass-doored cooler on the opposite wall. He grabbed two bottles of Blood4You, brought them to the table.
“You all right?” he asked, popping the tops on both and handing one to me.
“Having some quiet time. I don’t get that often.”
“No,” he agreed. “You do not. Seth?”
“Incarcerated,” I said. “Turned himself in so he’d be in prison with Regan.”
Ethan’s eyes widened. “He’s made quite a turnaround.”
I nodded. “That’s an understatement. But it’s also kind of perfect.”
I made myself wait a beat, gave him an opportunity to take a drink, before asking him. “What did Lakshmi say? What is the GP demanding of the House?”
He took another drink, set the bottle on the table. “The GP believes, as we have killed one of their vampires, they have a right to the same.”
My blood chilled. “They want to kill a member of Cadogan House?” The GP had made ignorant and thoughtless moves before, but none as heartless as that. None that were as conniving or, frankly, stupid.
“They’re bluffing,” I said, and Ethan smiled back faintly.
“Bluffing or not, that was their offer, delivered here by Lakshmi Rao. I understand you’re well acquainted.”
I kept my expression as neutral as possible, but I was sure he saw the hitch in my eyes. “Oh?” I innocently asked.
He gave me a dubious look. “She is supportive of the idea of challenging Darius for the GP. She suggested I should do it.”
