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Authors: Chloe Neill

Drink Deep (31 page)

BOOK: Drink Deep
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But while she could avoid me, Catcher couldn’t. I dialed up his cell phone and caught him in the car.
“On the way to your grandfather’s house,” he said.
“Still officing unofficially?”
“Unless we hear something different from the city, which seems extraordinarily unlikely, ‘unofficial’ is our permanent gig. Unfortunately,” he added as a horn honked in the background, “traffic to your grandfather’s is much worse than to the office. It takes me twice as long to get there.”
“Isn’t there an El stop by his house?”
“I prefer my car,” he flatly said. “What’s happening at Cadogan House tonight?”
“Well, due to unfortunate events, I’m no longer standing Sentinel.” I filled him in on Frank’s quality testing and my forced failure.
“Classy,” he said. “Makes Darius West look like a total peach.”
“I wouldn’t go quite that far, but you’ve got something there. Have you had a chance to talk to Simon?”
“I have. He’s as mystified as we are. He says he’s heard nothing about the
Maleficium
and that it’s safe and sound in Nebraska. Out of an abundance of caution, the Order’s established a committee to look into things, and they’re on their way. He also thinks Tate’s bluffing, and he put some stock into your lemon and sugar theory. He says the new ‘forensic magic’ recognizes trace magical evidence like odor.”
Catcher’s tone screamed “sarcastic,” but there was also a hint of “jealous” in there. Catcher hadn’t been a member of the Order for some time, so it stood to reason he wouldn’t be up to date on all the latest information and techniques. He clearly had unresolved issues about the Order. Maybe buried beneath his irritation that Mallory was learning about magic from Simon was a little magical jealousy.
“How long until Mal’s done with exams?”
“Couple of days, but the schedule is fluid. Simon’s apparently trying to keep her on her toes. Listen, I’m just pulling into the driveway. I’ll call you if there’s news.”
“Appreciate it,” I said, and he hung up. I had no doubt I’d hear from him again. If I’d learned anything in my months as a vampire, it was that drama was in unlimited supply.
 
I found a stack of library books outside my door again, all referencing unexplained historical events. The librarian seemed to think Amelia Earhart’s disappearance and the Bermuda Triangle were related to our sky and water problems. I was sitting on the floor, waist-deep in magical conspiracy theories, when my phone rang.
Saved by the bell
, I thought, and pulled it out. When I saw Jonah’s number on the screen, I popped it open.
“Hi,” I carefully said, not sure of his mood since we hadn’t spoken since the kiss—and nervous that he was calling to relay another crisis. I really could use a break.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Reading. What are you doing?”
“I’m at Benson’s. Get your ass down here and buy me a drink.”
Benson’s was the Grey House bar, located across the street from Wrigley Field.
“I’m not going to buy you a drink.”
“I’m pretty sure I remember you owing me a drink. Especially after you totally denied me when I poured out my heart to you.”
I couldn’t help but smile, and appreciated that he’d broken the ice. “I don’t recall it happening that way.”
“Then you would be incorrect.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re hallucinating,” I said, but glanced down at the books and decided I couldn’t read any more crazy theories tonight. I needed a change of scenery, even if that change started with my buying an apologetic round for my partner.
“I’ll be there in five,” I told him, then flipped the phone closed and slid it back into my pocket. I grabbed my jacket, gave Kelley a heads-up, and headed out.
 
Benson’s was housed in a narrow building that faced the back of Wrigley Field. Stadium seats had been installed on the roof so Cubs fans without tickets could get a view of the action from the even-froucicheaper seats. The narrow bar was also crammed with as many tables as the owners could fit. This was prime Cubs’ rooting territory, after all, and folks who couldn’t fit into Wrigley still wanted to be as close to the action as possible. The bar could get stuffy on game days, but there was definitely something to be said for squeezing into a bar with close friends (and total strangers) to root for the Cubbies. Benson’s even had a signature Cubs-related drink—a shot layered with blue and red booze. It tasted like cough syrup, but we drank it for the color—not the taste.
Benson’s was filled with Cubs memorabilia, and although the Cubs’ season had been over for some time, the bar was still packed tonight. Where better to spend the end of the world than with your closest friends and your favorite liquor? Since humans weren’t aware the bar was affiliated with Grey House, or vampires generally, the clientele was a mix of humans, vampires, and probably some supernaturals I didn’t even know existed.
I waded through bodies until I caught a glimpse of Jonah standing in a back corner. He wore a short-sleeved V-neck T-shirt over jeans and a couple days’ worth of stubble. It would have been a lie to deny that he was handsome, and when he looked up to watch me walk across the bar, I could have imagined—in another time and place—approaching him in a bar for an altogether different reason.
“Hey,” he said when I reached him. “You managed not to get captured by malcontents. Well done.”
There was an irritatingly attractive twinkle in his eye, but since he’d had a good attitude about the kiss, I decided to let him keep it. “Ha ha,” I said. “And yes. I did manage not to get captured by malcontents.”
Jonah gestured to the man beside him, who was a little shorter than Jonah and had a crop of platinum blond hair. “Merit, Jack,” he said. “Jack is a House guard. We’ve been friends for years. Jack, Merit.”
Jack, whose bright blue eyes were lined in kohl, looked me over. “You are—exactly what I expected,” he said, in a voice that sang faintly of the South.
I smiled hesitantly. “Thank you, I think?”
“It’s totally a compliment. You’re adorable, and I love the bangs.”
There was something completely disarming about Jack. His smile was huge, and he gave the impression he didn’t bother saying things he didn’t mean, which made the compliment that much more meaningful.
But I wasn’t sure how I felt about the fact he knew what I looked like. Had Jonah been talking about me?
“Thank you,” I said. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything?”
“We were talking about double swords,” Jonah said, then reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “You need a drink?”
“Not yet, thanks. What are double swords?”
“Using two katanas at a time,” Jack explained. “I think it’s a circus technique. Completely impractical and used only for show and intimidation.”
“And I think our friend Jack here is full of shit,” Jonah added, “and double katanas are the next big trend in martial arts training.”
“I swear to God you are stubborn,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “When was the last time you were engaged in a battle and happened to have two swords handy?”
“I would if they were standard weaponry.”
“Exactly my point,” Jack said, offering me a wink. I offered back a smile.
“Look,” Jonah said, “I’m talking about scope. And on the battlefield, anything goes.”
“Including double swords?” I wondered.
“Including double swords, my single-katana-ed friend.”
Jack made a sound of doubt, but clinked his bottle of beer good-naturedly against Jonah’s. “I suppose if all else fails we can skip the double and triple swords and go right for the quads.”

Hooah
,” they belted out together, and clinked their bottles again.
Guys were just complete mysteries to me, and I stared blankly back at both of them.
“You know about the Four Swords right?” Jonah asked.
I shook my head.
“Can I give you a lecture about being a total noob?”
“I really wish you wouldn’t. Educate me, but only if you can do it without editorial commentary.”
Jack grinned. “I knew I was going to like you. I knew it.”
“Once upon a time,” Jonah began, “in a kingdom far, far away, lived a Samurai. He believed that he was destined to travel the world and assist those who needed him. As a Samurai, he traveled with four swords at his side, each one representing one of the four elements in the world—air, fire, earth, and water.”
There was a lot of that going around these days.
“The Samurai traveled the world to educate others about swordcraft and eventually landed in Europe.”
“This was the Samurai who trained vampires how to fight with katanas,” I said, spoiling his punch line.
“It was,” Jonah said. “But did you know Scott was the vampire who met the Samurai and introduced the craft to everyone else? And that those same four swords are now hanging in Grey House?”
I looked between Jonah and Jack. “Is that true?”
Jack touched my arm. “That story’s true, but don’t believe him when he starts in on how he saved all the orphans in Kansas City the time Godzilla ravaged it.”
“It was a retirement village and an escaped mountain lion,” Jonah corrected. If he was telling the truth, I figured that was dramatic enough.
Jack waved away the correction and checked his watch. “I have to run. If the world’s ending, I want to be in the arms of a loved one when it happens. Or at least Paul,” he added with a grumble.
“The end of the world would solve the Paul problem,” Jonah offered. “So would breaking up with him.”
Jack made a dubious sound. “He’s already promised to haunt me in hell if it comes down to it. And a breakup would go over just as well.”
“Shut up or nut up, Jack.”
“I will cut you,” Jack said with a smile, pointing a fierce finger in Jonah’s face. But his expression dissolved. “See you tomorrow night, hoss. Quarterlies will be on your desk.”
“Appreciated,” Jonah said.
Jack held out his arms, and then embraced me in a hug. “Lovely to meet you, Merit. Take care of our captain,” hecap Jon whispered, leaving me with a blush.
“Relationship trouble?” I wondered, hoping Jonah hadn’t heard that comment, as we watched Jack disappear into the crowd.
“Never-ending drama,” Jonah said. “I am, as you might have realized, not a fan of drama. Jack has a much higher tolerance. Paul’s tolerance, unfortunately, is even higher.”
“Jack seems like a stand-up guy, the drama notwithstanding.”
“Jack is loyalty personified,” Jonah said. “I appreciate loyalty.”
“It’s a great character trait.”
“I have a sense you haven’t seen much of it lately.”
The insight was right on—and a little scary for it. “I’m not Sentinel anymore.”
He froze. “What?”
I told him about Frank, about the testing, about everything that had gone down the night before.
“I’m a guard now,” I admitted, then frowned. “Well, I’m acting as one. I haven’t been officially appointed, as far as I’m aware. Either way, I’ll be honest—it feels like a demotion.”
“I could see that.” Then his smile went a little too self-satisfied for my comfort. “As a guard captain, does that make me your superior?”
“It most definitely does not,” I said, pointing a finger into his chest. “I need no additional bosses in my hierarchy, thank you very much.”
“Just checking. Anyway, I’m sorry Cadogan’s going through this crap. If not you, it would have been us or Navarre. The GP’s just . . . well, you know my theory on that.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again, debating what to say and how to get out what I needed to get out. I settled on a segue. “Can we talk about something?”
“Is it about my effervescence?”
“It’s about the RG.”
His eyebrows lifted in interest. “You do know how to get a boy’s attention.”
I looked away, then back at him again. “I think it’s time I take some steps to protect the House. The GP is putting my colleagues, my friends, in danger. It’s not right, and if there’s something I can do to help, I’ll do it. So, I’d like to join the Red Guard.”
Jonah was quiet for a moment. “That’s the only reason you should say yes. If you’d said yes for any other reason, I’d have said no.”
I looked back at him. “Really?”
“It’s a twenty-year commitment, the RG, and it’s a serious one. We don’t want people who join because they have vendettas. We don’t want people who join because they hate authority. We want protectors. Guardians. People who recognize injustice in the system and are moved to stop it.”
“Those are good reasons.”
“They are. And now I know your reasons are similar. I’ll need to make a phone call and to pass word up the chain, but for all intents and purposes, you’re in.” He smiled down at me, and this time there was something more serious in his eyes. Not flirty. Not friendly.
Partnership.
“We will work together,” he said. “It’s a close relationship, and has to be a trusting one. Can you trust me?”
“ize="3">I looked at him for a moment, not wanting to give an answer without having given it earnest thought. I considered what I knew of him, and I considered the times he’d already had my back. At a rave in Streeterville, when we’d saved a young human. At Claudia’s, when he’d stepped in front of me to keep me out of harm’s way.
He might have had his reservations, but he’d gone all in when it counted.
“I trust you,” I said.
He nodded, and offered his hand. “Then I am deeply honored to welcome you, Merit, to the Red Guard.”
BOOK: Drink Deep
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