Drink Deep (18 page)
Authors: Chloe Neill
Apparently equally bored of me and Mal, the cat wandered off. But there was an odd, dizzying sway to its gait.
“Are you feeling better about the kinds of things you’re doing?” Mallory had previously expressed concern about Simon introducing her to black magic. Although a spell prevented her from spilling all the details, she’d clearly had some ethical qualms about it. I’d encouraged her to talk to Catcher. I knew they’d talked, but maybe the conversation—or its follow-ups—hadn’t gone well.
She tapped a finger against the red leather cover of the book she’d been reading, which was inscribed with gold text. Frankly, it looked exactly like the kind of book a sorceress would read.
“The world is what it is,” she said. “Just because something makes me uncomfortable doesn’t mean it’s bad, you know? Sometimes it just takes a little exposure to really understand it. I was just a little paranoid before.”
I waited for more elaboration, but that’s all she said. To be honest, that answer didn’t thrill me. Coming to terms with something unpleasant was one thing. But deciding it wasn’t so unpleasant after all was entirely different.
“Just a little paranoid?” Her hands—chapped and raw—were a side effect of the magic she’d been practicing. That didn’t seem like paranoia to me; it seemed like cause and effect.
“It’s fine,” she said, putting a hand down on the table hard enough to make it shake. I jumped a little at the sound, but if she was trying to shut me up, she succeeded. “I needed the cat to help me funnel the magic. And what I still need are three more of them to help me get all this done. There’s too much to do, too much to learn, for one person.”
This wasn’t Mallory—not the attitude. I laid responsibility for that at Simon’s feet; she’d seen him more often lately than anyone else. But here it was just her and me, and I wasn’t about to lead our friendship to the precipice over some temporary stress.
“Okay,” I allowed. “You know if you need to talk you can call me anytime. Day or night.”
“You’ll answer your phone in daylight?” she snarked.
Not if you don’t lose the attitude
, I thought, but kept that thought to myself.
She’s been there for me
, I mentally repeated, and kept repeating it until my anger calmed.
, I thought, but kept that thought to myself.
She’s been there for me
, I mentally repeated, and kept repeating it until my anger calmed.
“Whatever you need,” I told her.
She humphed and flipped a page in the book. “I should get back to work. Thanks for the food.”
I frowned, unsuccessfully fighting the feeling that I’d been summarily dismissed. “You’re welcome. Take care of yourself, okay?”
“I’m fine. Even if I get sick, I could just will myself back to health.”
When it was clear I’d lost her attention, I left her with her books and plants and care package and a secret prayer that she’d weather this particular storm.
I didn’t like the sense she was hiding things, but I understood the single-minded focus. I’d had dozens of exams in college and grad school, and preparing took that kind of focus. I’d had to remember characters, plots, and details, as well as trends, metaphors, and similaritie kd ssecret ps. You had to dive into the books completely to have enough familiarity to spend hours answering essay questions. I assumed, given her attitude today, that magic exams required a similar immersion.
On the way back up, I made a quick pit stop in the brownstone’s kitchen, pulling open the long, flat drawer that housed my chocolate collection. I was a little saddened to discover the bulk of it—if not all of it—was still in there. I wanted to know Mallory still snuck chocolate after a return from the bar or a gym session, or had used the high-cocoa bars to make her famous truffle cupcakes. Instead, the drawer was frozen in time, a bit of me she and Catcher hadn’t yet managed to assimilate into their lives.
Well, if they weren’t going to eat it, I would. I rummaged through to find a few special treats—famous brownies special-ordered from a New York bakery, a favorite mini dark chocolate bar, and a novelty bar filled with one of my favorite cereals—and stuffed them into the pockets of my jacket. Given Frank’s House ban on all things delicious, I was going to need them.
My pockets full, I closed the drawer again and walked back to the front door. Catcher was still on the couch, frowning at what looked to be another Lifetime movie.
“What’s the appeal?” I wondered aloud, watching a montage of a woman getting a makeover with girlfriends, probably after some ridiculously bad breakup.
“Normalcy,” he said. “The stories are melodramatic, sure, but the problems are profane. They’re about love and illness and money and nasty neighbors and creepy ex-boyfriends.”
“They aren’t about magic and irritating vampires and awful politicians?”
“Precisely.”
I nodded in understanding. “I pulled some stuff from the chocolate drawer. But I don’t think you’ll miss it. Hey, have you noticed anything weird about Mallory? She seems, I don’t know, really focused. And not really in a good way.”
“She’s fine,” was all he said. I waited for more, but got nothing but thick tension and a little peppery magic. He may have verbally disagreed with me, but there was nothing in his body language that said he was okay with her behavior.
“You sure about that? Have you talked to Mallory about Simon? About what he’s having her do? I get the sense she’s doing things she’s not comfortable with.”
“This isn’t exactly your area of expertise.”
There was a sharpness in his voice I hadn’t expected to hear. Catcher may have been gruff, but he was also usually patient about supernatural issues.
“True,” I allowed. “But I do know Mallory. And I know when she’s avoiding something.”
“You think I don’t know her?”
“Of course you know her. I just know her in a different way than you do.”
Ever so slowly, he slid me a skewering glance. “What goes on in this house between us isn’t exactly your business, is it?”
I blinked from the sting, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he’d just lost his job and his girlfriend was a giant stressball.
“Okay,” I said, hand on the doorknob. “Fine. You guys have a good night.”
“Merit.”
I looked back.
“Before you go . . .” He began, then wet his lips and looked away. It wasn’t often that I’d seen him uncomfortable about voicing an opinion, and that made me nervous. “I’ve heard you’ve been spending time with Jonah lately. I have to admit: I’m not thrilled about it.”
How did word travel so fast? This was like being in high school all over again. “We’re working together,” I said. “He’s my backup.”
“Is that all?”
I gave back the same doubtful expression he’d offered me. “Is that all?”
“I know it wasn’t always obvious, but Ethan and I were close.”
“I could say the same thing.”
“And are you respecting his memory?”
The question was as brutal as a slap, and as surprising as it was harsh. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I am. And regardless, I have a right to live my life even if he’s not here.”
My heart pounded with adrenaline and irritation and . . . hurt. This was Catcher, my best friend’s boyfriend. He was basically a brother-in-law, and he was accusing me of disrespecting Ethan’s memory?
“That was a really shitty thing to say,” I added, as the irritation grew.
Silence.
“He was a pain in the ass,” Catcher said. “But I’d gotten used to him, you know?”
The hurt softened a bit. “I know.”
It was another minute before he spoke again. “Have I ever told you how Sullivan and I met?”
I shook my head.
“The Order was convinced there shouldn’t be sorcerers in Chicago. But I knew—we all knew—that supernatural issues were going to come to a head here before anywhere else. I’d always thought the Order just didn’t want to get their hands dirty. Now I think they were afraid. At any rate, I’d had a prophecy, and I’d told them about it. I told them we needed sorcerers here. That it was imperative that we have sorcerers here.”
“They didn’t believe you?”
“Or were in denial. And when I came to Chicago anyway, they saw that as a breach of the chain of command and they kicked me out. They left me without a sponsor, and they accused me of being arrogant, of trying to usurp the authority of the union. As an act of courtesy, I called the Houses and let them know I was coming. I didn’t want my arrival to ruffle any feathers. Scott wouldn’t talk to me; he didn’t want to get involved in Order issues. Celina offered me a meeting, but that was largely an exercise in self-absorption.”
“Not entirely surprising.”
He made a sound of agreement. “I called Ethan, gave him a heads-up. He invited me over. We talked about Chicago, the Order, the Houses. We talked for hours. And at the end of that conversation, he offered to let me stay in Cadogan House until I got situated in Chicago.”
Catcher was silent for a moment, maybe letting that sink in. Except that it didn’t really surprise me. Ethan was strategic, and he was also loyal. He’d have rewarded Catcher for following the etiquette, and he’d have had the grace to offer him the House afterward.
“That was years ago,” he finally said. “Years before you became a vampire, years before you met Mallory. Years before you moved back ku m agto Chicago. Years before the city turned against its own.”
“Years before we lost Ethan. But we did lose him.”
“I know,” Catcher said. “I know he’s gone, and I know your relationship was rocky right up to the end. But deep down, he was good people.”
“I know he was.”
Catcher nodded, and silence reigned for a moment.
But before I could speak, my cell phone rang. I pulled it from my pocket and checked the screen. It was Jonah.
“Hello?”
“Have you looked outside recently?”
“Not in a couple of hours. Why?”
“Go and look.”
“Is this a joke?” I asked him. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
“It’s aspen serious. Go look outside. Check the sky and the moon.”
“I’ll call you back,” I told him. I tucked the phone away and glanced back at Catcher. “Excuse me for a moment,” I said, opening the door and peering outside.
I froze. “Oh, my God,” I muttered, and heard Catcher rustling behind me.
The sky was ruby red. Not sunrise or sunset pink, but
red
. A dark, rich red of cherry cola or well-worn mahogany. A glowing bloodred moon hung low in the sky, and brilliant white forks of lightning crossed it with alarming frequency.
red
. A dark, rich red of cherry cola or well-worn mahogany. A glowing bloodred moon hung low in the sky, and brilliant white forks of lightning crossed it with alarming frequency.
Mallory had made a prophecy about a red moon once, something about the fall of “White City kings.” Once upon a time, parts of Chicago had been called the “White City.” Was this the moon she meant? If so, who were the “kings” that were supposed to fall?
My stomach churned in warning. I’d dreamed about a moon, but that had to be coincidence. Because if it wasn’t, and the rest of the dream hadn’t been coincidence either . . .
I shook my head. That was grief-driven wishful thinking and a ridiculous waste of time that was only going to make me feel worse—or stupid—in the long run.
“Jesus Christ,” Catcher muttered, stepping beside me at the door. “What in God’s name happened?”
“I’ll tell you what happened,” I said, pulling out my phone to call Jonah back. “Our second crisis for the week.”
Dead lake. Red sky.
At least there was only one crisis at a time.
CHAPTER NINE
THE FAIRY TALE
E
xcept there wasn’t only one crisis at a time. I reached Jonah on my way to the House—the river and lake were back to black and still sucking magic from the city like it was going out of style. Which meant not only had that problem
not
been solved—the entire situation was escalating. I felt a real jolt of fear. I had no idea where this was headed.
xcept there wasn’t only one crisis at a time. I reached Jonah on my way to the House—the river and lake were back to black and still sucking magic from the city like it was going out of style. Which meant not only had that problem
not
been solved—the entire situation was escalating. I felt a real jolt of fear. I had no idea where this was headed.
When he met me at Cadogan, we joined the dozens of other vampires who stood on the lawn behind the House, staring up at the sky. And we weren’t the only ones. I hardly passed a single house between Wicker Park and Hyde Park where folks weren’t standing outside, fingers pointing upward or hands over their mouths in shock.
White lightning flashed across the sky, and claps of thunder drowned out the sounds of the city. There wasn’t a thunderhead in sight, and I could all but hear Chicagoans’ silent accusations:
These things didn’t happen before vampires
.
These things didn’t happen before vampires
.
What they weren’t considering, of course, was that vampires and other sups had been in Chicago at least as long as humans, and this didn’t have anything to do with us. Unfortunately, I didn’t know how to prove that to them.
I’d texted Malik to give him a heads-up that I was bringing a Grey House vamp onto Cadogan soil, and he offered Jonah a handshake when we joined him and Luc in the backyard.
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