Midnight Marked (Chicagoland Vampires, #12)(49)

“You look amazing,” she said, fingering a bit of the skirt. “Is this Valentino?”

I hadn’t even thought to look. “I don’t know. But I’m sure it was expensive.”

She snorted. “Uh, yeah. Very.”

When she walked back to her station, Luc dropped his voice. “What the hell is this?”

“Complicated. Can I speak to you outside?”

Luc didn’t look thrilled about the request. But he rose, followed me to the door, and closed it when we were outside again. And then he crossed his arms.

“You’re getting pretty good at that Master-to-Peon expression,” I said.

“I’ve been on the receiving end plenty of times. What the hell’s he doing?”

No need to explain who “he” was.

“Long story short, Reed wrote a note to me to inflame Ethan, and it worked perfectly. Ethan wants to confront Reed at a charity thing tonight at the Botanic Garden.”

He eyes flashed, and anger flooded the hallway on a wave of magic. “Excuse me?”

“You know what I know. I can’t stop him, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let him go alone. And that’s not all.”

I told him about Ethan’s call to my father, watched his face for a sign he knew about it. I didn’t see it. Instead he looked surprised and a little appalled. “Not a good idea.”

“No, it wasn’t. But it’s done now. Is there something we can do? Protection we can offer?”

“Do you think your father would take it?”

“I don’t know. What about the human guards? Could we post a couple near his house?”

Luc put a hand on my arm. “Sentinel, considering how angry you are at Ethan for talking to your father without checking with you first, do you really think it’s a good idea to put guards on your father without talking to him first?”

I curled my lip. “Don’t try to use logic against me.”

“Perish the thought. Look, why don’t I talk to your grandfather, broach the issue with him? He might have a better sense of, let’s say, the proprieties.”

Some of the pressure in my chest loosened. “I’d appreciate it.”

Luc nodded. “This screws my plan for you to help Paige with the alchemy tonight. We need to focus on translating it.”

“You’re preaching to the choir. Unfortunately, using that metaphor, Ethan’s the bishop. He makes the rules, and I can’t just let him go by himself.”

“What do you think Reed’s got in mind?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure he’s got a plan. That’s the kind of man he is. Even when we’re aggressive, like with Hellriver, he’s still two steps ahead of us.”

“He’s the bad guy; they usually are two steps ahead until they’re caught.”

“Yeah.” I sighed. “I’m going to try to keep Ethan out of trouble.”

“Do your best,” he said. “And I’m glad you came to me, told me about it. I’m pissed he didn’t, but he’s one of the more stubborn among us.”

“Stubborn barely scratches the surface,” I said, thinking of the night before at Little Red. “Have you heard anything from Gabriel? From the Pack?”

Luc’s expression darkened. “No, although we wouldn’t necessarily. I guess that’s Ethan’s complaint. At this point, not hearing anything is probably best. Means they haven’t declared war against us.”

“They wouldn’t do that.”

Luc didn’t look as convinced. “It wouldn’t be the first instance of internecine warfare.”

“I know. And I know Ethan’s pissed, and Gabriel’s probably pissed now, too. But they’re both adults. They both want what’s best for their people, and that can’t be war with each other, Luc. It can’t.” My voice had become pleading.

“Let’s hope not, Sentinel. Damn. What a night. Ethan’s probably talking to Malik, but I’ll throw myself onto that grenade if he hasn’t.”

Resigned, I nodded and began walking toward the door to the parking garage. But I glanced back at Luc. “Do me one more favor?”

“Anything, Merit.”

“Call the lawyers, and get them ready.”

? ? ?

The Botanic Garden had been—and still was—a beautiful place to visit. But I knew this trip wasn’t going to go well, and the paths and gardens were still shadowed by my memories.

My mother had held my sister Charlotte’s sixteenth birthday there. I’d been stuffed into a party dress and forced to join in. She was three years older, and I felt ugly and coltish beside her friends, who already knew their ways around makeup, clothes, and pretty hairstyles. I was already uncomfortable in starchy crinoline and a training bra. I felt even more so when matched against Charlotte’s beautiful friends.

More recently, I’d walked there after Ethan’s death, when I’d wanted solitude and solemnity. That hadn’t fostered happy memories, either.

The park had closed a few hours ago. But the large black gates at the entrance were open, a man in a dark suit checking invitations and waving expensive cars into the park.

He waved us in, and Ethan pulled into a parking slot backward, the car facing the front entrance in case we needed to make a quick getaway.