Catcher put his hand at the back of her neck, rubbed it. “We talked about this.”
“I know,” she said, nodding her head. “It’s just a change.” When she looked up at me, her eyes were bright with tears. Notwithstanding the discomfort of being witness to their more amorous adventures, I was glad Catcher was here for her, that she had someone who’d been through similar experiences, who could guide her through the process or just be there when she needed comforting.
“I’m sorry, Mallory,” was all I could think to say, knowing how much she’d loved her job, how well suited for it she’d been, how much pride she’d taken when a commercial or print ad she’d conceptualized appeared in the Trib or on ABC-7.
She sniffed, nodded, and knuckled away the tears that had slipped beneath her lashes, before chuckling. “Hey, I’ll get my union card, and think of all the doors that will open for me then.”
“Absolutely, kiddo,” Catcher said, leaning over to plant a kiss on her temple. “Absolutely.”
“I don’t want to bust the pro-union party here,” I said, “but will those doors open into any bank vaults or some kind of salary?”
Catcher nodded. “Once she’s completed her on-the-job, since the Order has finally realized they need someone on the ground in Chicago, she’ll be on call.” The middle part of that sentence had been spoken gruffly and with obvious bitterness. Typical Catcher, in other words.
“On call?” I asked, turning my gaze to Mallory, who smiled slyly.
“I’ll be doing my own dispute handling, investigating, that kind of thing.” She shrugged. “It’s a job. I mean, it’s not Cadogan-Hyde Park kind of money, but I’ll manage. Speaking of Cadogan money, what’s up on your end of things? How’s life under the tutelage of Darth Sullivan?”
“Well,” I began, “I’ve been roped into shenanigans.”
Without preface, Catcher muttered a curse, then leaned over, slipped his wallet from his jeans, and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, which he handed to Mallory.
She grinned down at it, then carefully folded it and tucked it into her shirt. “On behalf of Carmichael Savings and Loan, we appreciate your business.”
At my arched eyebrows, she bobbed her head toward Catcher. “I voted shenanigans within the first twenty-four hours. Mr. Bell over here thought Darth Sullivan would let you get ‘settled.’ ” She used air quotes for that last part.
“Damn. I wish I could have taken that bet,” I said. I debated how much I could tell them about said ensuing shenanigans, but since Ethan would probably tell Catcher his plans, and Catcher would undoubtedly tell Mallory, I didn’t think I was risking much.
“We’ll be doing some reconnaissance work. Long story short, I’m going home.”
Mallory arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean, going home?”
“I’ll be hanging out with the Merit clan.”
“Seriously?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m going to try to get close to an old friend. According to Ethan, at least the part he’s telling me, we’re trying to keep prying human eyes away from some questionable vamp activities. God only knows what other secret motivations he’s got.”
“Does getting into your pants count as a secret motivation these days?”
I screwed up my face. “Ew.”
Mal rolled her eyes, apparently not buying my disgust. “Whatever. You’d totally hit that if he weren’t such an ass.”
“And that’s exactly his problem,” I muttered.
“And speaking of hitting that,” Mal added, perking up, “any word from Morgan? You guys have anything planned for the weekend?”
“Not really,” I vaguely said, and left it at that. It was true that there wasn’t much to report, but I also wasn’t up for talking about it; being conflicted about the guy I was pseudo-dating wasn’t helped by analyzing it to death.
I checked my watch. It was two hours until sunup. That gave me time to sneak back to Cadogan House, grab an obscenely long shower, and chillax a little before bed.
“I should go,” I told them. I took my empty plate to the sink, deposited it and then glanced back. “When does the training start?”
“Sunday,” Mallory said, rising from her stool. That gave her two full days to wreak pre-internship havoc, or at least enjoy some rowdy pre-internship rounds with Catcher.
“I’ll walk you out,” she said. Catcher followed us, a hand at Mallory’s back. We reached the living room and, without another word, he sat down on the couch, crossed his ankles on the coffee table and slouched back, remote control in his hand. He flicked on the television and tuned it immediately to the Lifetime Channel.
Mallory and I stood there, heads cocked, watching this incredibly sexy, incredibly masculine man, whose eyes were glued to a made-for-TV movie. He slid us an annoyed glance, rolled his eyes, and turned back to the television.
“You know I love this shit,” he said, then made a vague gesture at Mallory, “and she lives with me.” That apparently being defense enough, he sniffed, settled the remote control in the crux between his legs, and crossed his arms behind his head.
“My life,” Mallory said. “My love. The keeper of my heart.”
“The keeper of your remote,” I pointed out, then enveloped her in a hug. “I love you. Call me if you need to.”
“I love you, too,” she said, and when we’d released each other, nodded her head in Catcher’s direction. “He’s making dinner Saturday night, kind of a pre-training deal. I don’t really need a going-away party anymore, but far be it from me to complain when someone tries to make dinner in my honor. We’ll call it a not-going-that-far-away party. Come over, maybe bring Morgan?”
I offered back a sardonic look. “A not-going-that-far-away party?”
“Jeez,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’re as stubborn as he is. Call it a kickoff party if that makes you feel better. I am a burgeoning sorceress. We haven’t celebrated that yet, and I figure I’m due.”
With that, we made our final goodbyes, and I headed back to my car. When I arrived back in Hyde Park, I parked outside the Cadogan gate, then moved through the House and back to my second-floor room.
I dropped off my keys and unbelted my sword, then glanced around. I’d planned on a long shower and a little reading in my pajamas before the sun hit the horizon. But since I’d been here nearly forty-eight hours and had hardly seen the other ninety-seven resident Cadogan vampires, I decided to opt for something considerably less geeky, and a lot more social. I flipped off the light in my room and headed for the stairs.
Noise leaked from Lindsey’s room on the third floor, a cacophony of voices and television sounds. I knocked, and at Lindsey’s invitation (“Get your ass in here, Sentinel”), pulled it open.
The tiny room, already crowded with furniture and Lindsey’s expressive decor, was stuffed with vampires. I counted six, including Lindsey and Malik, who were reclining on her bed. Kelley and newbie vampire (and Lindsey’s current paramour) Connor sat on the floor beside two vampires I didn’t know. All six of them faced a small round television that sat atop Lindsey’s bookshelf. On TV, thin people with strong accents berated the fashion choices of a large, flustered woman who wore a dress of eye-bruising colors but who was giving back as good as she was getting.
“Door,” Kelley said without looking at me. I obeyed and closed it.
“Cop a squat, Sentinel,” Lindsey directed, patting the bed beside her and shuffling farther from Malik, giving me room to sit between them. I stepped carefully among vampires and over a half-eaten box of pizza that made my stomach grumble in a way blood didn’t, and climbed onto the bed. I had to go in headfirst, then carefully turn around, apologizing to Malik and Linds for kicks and pokes along the way. I heard grunts and moans, but assumed they were related to the show, which seemed to be heading for some kind of bitchfest climax.
“This is Margot and Katherine,” Lindsey said, pointing at the unfamiliar vampires on the floor in turn. Margot, a strikingly gorgeous brunette with an angular crop of dark hair and bangs that curved into a point between amber-colored eyes, turned and offered a finger wave. Katherine, her light brown hair piled into a high knot, turned back and smiled.
“Merit,” I said, waving back.
“They know who you are, hot shit. And you obviously know Connor and Kelley,” Lindsey added when I’d settled myself, a pillow between my back and the wall, legs crossed at the ankles, tiny, glowing reality television show half a dozen feet away.
Connor glanced back and grinned. “Thank God you’re here. I was the youngest person in the room by at least fifty years.”
“Hate to break it to you, Sweet Tits,” Lindsey said, “but you aren’t a person anymore.” She called for a piece of pizza, and the box was passed up. Eyes on the television, she grabbed a slice, then handed over the box. I settled it on my lap and tucked into a piece, pausing only long enough to make sure it was covered in meat. Bingo. While it was barely warm, and consisted of an offensive New York hybrid crust that could have used two more inches of dough and sauce and cheese, it was better than a kick in the face.
Malik leaned toward me. “You heard she’s been released?”
In the two months that I’d been a Cadogan vampire, this was the first solo conversation I’d had with Malik. And while we were on the subject, it was also the first time I’d seen him in jeans and a polo shirt.