“A dozen?” I asked, surprised. “We’re down a guard, and even if you, Lindsey, Juliet, and Kelley were there, that leaves eight missing vamps and no one guarding the House.”
“Since your field trip to Navarre,” Luc began, “we’ve spoken with the Guard Captains at Navarre and Grey. They’ve loaned us vampires in the event of an emergency.”
I sat straight up at the mention of Jonah, my would-be Red Guard partner. I guess he wasn’t above offering a little help to the Cadogan Sentinel, even if he didn’t think much of her abilities.
Ethan cocked his head at me. “Are you all right, Sentinel? You seem flushed.”
“I’m fine,” I covered, smiling weakly. “Just surprised about the interoffice cooperation.”
Ethan shook his head. “We haven’t cleared additional guards with Gabriel. I’m not sure they’d appreciate having nearly a dozen more vampires at their convocation.”
Luc shrugged. “Can’t be helped. I’m sure as shit not sending you in without the possibility of backup. Besides, if this thing goes bad enough to require us to send in a dozen more friendlies, I’m guessing Gabriel’s not going to be too concerned.”
Ethan nodded.
“We wouldn’t have a lot of time to negotiate the details of a full contract, but I could also give the fairies a call to see if they’d be interested in posting some sentries or snipers around the church.”
Frowning contemplatively, Ethan crossed his arms. “I think the cost of recruiting and negotiating with the fairies at this point would exceed the benefit, especially since there’s no guarantee we’d need them.”
“Whatever you think best, Liege,” Luc said with a snicker.
“I have decided opinions in that area,” Ethan said crisply, approbation in his voice. “And our safe word?”
“Wonderwall.”
Lindsey turned around and cast Luc a sardonic look. “Your safe word is the name of an Oasis song?”
“Blondie, I am the arbiter of all things fashionable in this House. Why not music?”
Lindsey snorted, then turned back to her monitor and began clicking through computer screens. “Spoken by a man wearing cowboy boots. I mean, seriously.
Who wears cowboy boots?”
Ethan and I both checked out his shoes. He was, indeed, wearing well-worn, alligator skin boots.
“Epitome of fashion,” Luc said. “I watch the MTVs. I know what the kids are wearing.”
“The kids are a century younger than you, hoss.”
“Children,” Ethan interjected, although the amusement was clear on his face, “let’s stay on point. I have matters to attend to.”
Lindsey, chastened, moved back to her monitor. I had the same urge to turn away, but no computer to turn to. I was used to their flirty banter, and usually I participated in it. But today it left me feeling hollow. It was too casual, and I was still trying to find my emotional footing. It helped a little that Ethan seemed equally discomforted; half of his questions had been one or two words, and he’d hardly spared a word about convocation prep. This was business, sure, but even Ethan had a sense of humor. Well, on occasion.
“Our plan in the event of these contingencies?” Ethan asked.
Luc stood up again, moved to the blueprints, and pulled out a map of Ukrainian Village. “If things do go wonky, get out of the building however you can,” he said. “Then meet here.” He tapped a point on the map about two blocks from the church, and we all leaned up to see.
“We’re meeting at Joe’s Chicken and Biscuits,” Luc said.
“As the name suggests, Joe’s is one of the Windy City’s finest purveyors of chicken and biscuits. That’s your rendezvous point. Anything happens, get back there. We’ll pick you up. I’d just ask that you grab a ten-piece for me and the missus here.”
“If things go bad, do we fight back?”
Ethan looked at me.
“Some of the shifters were already suspicious of us,” I said, leaving unspoken the probability that they’d be even more suspicious after tonight. “I don’t want to make things worse.”
Ethan frowned and rubbed his forehead. “The GP has a position statement on shifters.”
“Do not fire until fired upon,” Luc offered.
Ethan nodded matter-of-factly. “We do not strike with weapons unless we are threatened, or unless they are threatening to harm Gabriel.”
We were all silent for a moment, maybe wondering whether I’d been sufficiently threatened to justify Ethan’s reaction . . . or whether the GP was going to want a few words with our Master.
We all jumped a bit when Ethan’s cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, checked the screen, then pushed back his chair and rose. “You may respond if necessary, but we are there to offer our support, not to make enemies without provocation. There are likely alliances within the Packs just as there are outside them, and we don’t want to run afoul of any lines there.”
I’d been born to one of Chicago’s wealthiest families. I was trained to play standoffish.
“I have an appointment,” Ethan said, then slipped the phone back into his jacket. “You’re dismissed. We’ll assemble here two hours before midnight tomorrow.”
“Liege,” I respectfully said, and caught Lindsey’s eye roll at my Grateful Condescension—the fancy vampire term for ass-kissing. When Ethan was out of the room, presumably on his way to some important meeting, and the door was shut behind him, she snorted.
“I can’t believe you’re playing polite after he bailed.”
“I warned you earlier—no personal commentary.”
“One or two questions? They’re pretty specific. Biologically specific, that is.”
“Luc, your employee is being petulant.”
“Welcome to my world, Sentinel. Welcome to my world.”
It being bare minutes before dawn, Lindsey and Luc shut down the House controls and officially handed the protection of the House to the mercenary fairies who guarded it while we slept. She offered to walk me upstairs for moral support; more likely, she wanted time to quiz me on Ethan’s decision that we couldn’t date.
“I only need a detail or two,” she said as soon as we’d closed the Ops Room door behind us.
“There are no details to offer. We had a fling; he decided he couldn’t afford to date me, so I’m now working on my I-Will-Survive vibe.”
We took the stairs to the first floor, and had just turned the corner at the stairwell when we were blocked by an entourage of vampires—Margot, Katherine, and a female vamp with a shaved head and cocoa skin whom I didn’t yet know. They literally stopped in front of us, a blockade to the rest of the first floor.
“Chicas,” Lindsey said, propping her hands on her hips, “what’s up?”
The girls shared a look, then glanced at me, then turned back to Lindsey.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Margot said, “but we have a visitor.”