“Not especially.”
“Ethan seemed weird,” she said. “He didn’t tell us anything about you and him, but he seemed really weird.” I almost snarked back, but when I saw the worry in her expression, and heard the concern in her tone, I threw her a bone.
“I was dumped, and I’d like to think about something else for a little while.” I pointed at the spread of documents on the conference table. “What’s all this?”
“I—he did what?”
I appreciated the shock and dismay in Lindsey’s voice but shook my head. “Business, please.”
“Your show, Sentinel,” Luc said, then hopped off the table and turned to face it. “This is prep work for your convocation field trip—schematics of St.
Bridget’s Cathedral.”
The door behind us opened, and Ethan walked in. He gave me a quick nod of acknowledgment before settling his gaze on the table.
I reminded myself that I’d managed a relatively professional relationship with Ethan for all but one of the nights we’d known each other. If he was going to reject me for fear of mixing the personal and the professional, I could play the all-business vampire, as well.
“Plans?” Ethan asked.
Luc nodded. “Ask and ye shall receive.”
“Technically,” Lindsey said, turning back to her monitor, “check your e-mail and ye shall receive them from the Apex of the North American Central.”
“Details,” Luc said. “They’re here now.”
Ethan walked around the conference table to stand next to Luc. I followed and took point at Luc’s other side.
“Your analysis?” Ethan asked.
Luc put on his game face. “I had two main goals. One—identifying trouble spots. Areas that snipers could sneak into, parson’s holes, that kind of thing.
Two—identifying exits.”
“And what did you find?” Ethan asked.
Luc began flipping through the blueprints. “There are two main parts to the church. First up, the original structure, built in the late nineteenth century. Old religious architecture in Chicago means architectural anomalies. This architect was apparently paranoid, so there are plenty of hidey-holes.”
“Shifters,” Ethan and I simultaneously guessed.
“Quite possibly,” Luc said. “We’ve found two trapdoors in the main part of the building.” He pointed them out on the plans—one in the sanctuary proper, just behind the pulpit, and one in the choir stalls behind the pulpit.
“What else?” Ethan asked.
Luc flipped over a couple of sheets of paper. “In the 1970s, they remodeled the building and added the classroom wing. And at that time, they added what looks to be a panic room.” He pointed it out on the blueprints. “It’s in the basement. Looks like it started out as a bomb shelter, but in the remodel they reinforced it with concrete and added some wiring. So those are your question marks.”
Ethan nodded. “Exits?”
Luc flipped back to the schematic of the main floor of the church. “Front doors, obviously. There’s also an exit inside the sanctuary on the right.” He pointed it out, then traced his finger down the long, narrow sanctuary, and then through a doorway on the left to another set of rooms. “These are the offices and classrooms.” He pointed out the exit at the end of that corridor. “Exit point is here, although there are windows in all the rooms in the event things go completely fubar.”
I leaned toward Lindsey, who’d stood up to join us at the table, still wearing the slim, wireless headset that kept her in communication with the guard on ground patrol tonight (either Kelley or Juliet, since they were the only remaining guards) and the fairies outside the gate. “He seems to be having fun,” I told her.
“He’s in hog heaven,” she whispered back. “Things have been peaceful for so long, he hasn’t needed to do this kind of advance work. All of a sudden, we get a Sentinel, and shifters want vampires to come out and play.”
“Yeah,” I said dryly. “Clearly this whole convocation idea is focused on getting to know me better. It’s the mixer you’ve always dreamed of.”
“But hairier,” she said. “Much hairier.”
Ethan rubbed a hand across his jaw. “What else do we need to know?”
“That’s about it for the architecture,” Luc said. He pulled out a chair and sat down. Ethan and I did the same. Lindsey returned to her computer station.
“But if it’s going to be you two against three hundred-odd shifters, we need to talk about contingencies. Worst-case scenarios.”
Ethan crossed one leg over the other, settling in for a strategic conference. “Your thoughts?”
“Three scenarios come to mind. First, an attack from outside the conference, something akin to what you saw at the bar. Second, the shifters are pissed that you’re there, and they attack you.”
“Good times,” Lindsey whispered. I nodded, my stomach knotting a bit. Hunkering down behind a bar to avoid bullets—or even a little arm-grabbing by a Pack bully—was one thing; facing off against portions of four Packs of shifters was something else entirely.
“Third, the shifters can’t make a decision, they get pissed at one another, and things go magically wonky.”
Ethan slid Luc a glance. “Wonky? That’s your official conclusion?”
“Signed and sealed. I assume you get the larger point.”
Ethan blew out a breath. “I get it. I’m not thrilled about it, but I get it. Well, what can we do to keep things calm?”
“How proactive can we be on that?” I asked.
Heads turned to face me. “What are you thinking, Sentinel?” Ethan asked.
“Vampires have the ability to glamour. I can’t seem to do it”—I shifted my gaze to Ethan—“but I bet you can.”
The room was quiet for a moment.
“You’re thinking we glamour a church full of shifters to keep them calm? Anesthetized?”
“Could it be done?”
Luc hunched over the table, placed an elbow atop it, and put his chin in his hand. “It’s theoretically possible, but we’ve never seen evidence shifters are especially susceptible to glamour. They’re magical beings. I’d be afraid they’d sense it, feel it. And if they suspected we were attempting to manipulate them—”
“All hell would break loose,” Ethan finished. “Interesting proposal, Sentinel, but let’s stick to basic bluffing. We’ll stand there with our swords and smile politely, and reach for the handles if things get nasty.”
“Oh, and speaking of,” Luc said, sitting up again and pushing back his chair. He walked over to his desk, where he picked up a small glossy white box. “End of the fiscal year is coming up, and we had a little bit of extra coin in our budget.”
“Thank you for returning it to the House treasury,” Ethan muttered, but I could see the gleam of boyish pleasure in his eyes as Luc flipped open the lid and pulled out two tiny earpieces.