Authors: Chloe Neill
Drink Deep (32 page)
“That’s it?” Not that I’d imagined a sash and a parade, but it seemed worthy of at least a ceremony or a pinning or something.
“We’ll put together a more formal ceremony after I advise Noah. That’ll take a little time to arrange. In the meantime . . .” He wiggled his fingers, waiting for a handshake.
My promise already made, we shook on it.
In doing so, I pledged away my presumed loyalty to the GP. Frank might have intended to reduce my influence over the House. In fact, he’d only managed to bring me closer to my fellow Novitiates and make me fight harder for them.
“This looks cozy.”
We both looked behind us, where a tall, dark-haired vampire stood, arms crossed, barely hidden malice in his expression.
“Hello, Morgan,” I said, thinking Paul would probably appreciate his sense of dramatics.
Morgan Greer, Master of Navarre House, was unquestionably handsome—alluring in a dark, seductive way. His sense of humor balanced out his rakish good looks, but his immaturity negated both, in my opinion. By all accounts, he had everything a Master could wish for—health, looks, money, and power. But he had the attitude of a sulking, bitter teenager.
Tonight he wore a button-up shirt over snug jeans and boots. His dark, wavy hair hit his shoulders, and he looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few weeks. His cheeks were supermodel gaunt, which added a sharp edge to his appeal.
I hadn’t spoken with him since the deaths of Ethan and Celina; I wasn’t sure how he felt about either, but I guessed the emotions would be mixed, at best. And tonight, he was in a position I hadn’t seen before—he had a date.
The girl beside him was tall and thin, with long, dark hair and an exotic face. She’d paired dark leggings and an oversized top (undoubtedly from some couture boutique) with five-inch heels and chandelier earrings. She looked like a model on a go-see, and I felt a small pang of jealousy before remembering that I couldn’t care less.
His gaze grazed me, then Jonah, landing on me again with obvious disgust. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”
Jonah must have felt the quick flash of magic I threw into the air, because he put a warning hand on my arm. I gave his hand a quick pat of reassurance.
“We’re working,” I said, trying to maintain my composure and not get into a screaming match with an emotionally stunted vampire.
“I’m sure. What’s the occasion?”
There was enough snark in his voice that I couldn’t tell if he was trying to harass me, or was honestly clueless about events in Chicago.
“Surely you didn’t miss the bit about the lake turning blake match wick and the sky turning red?”
“That has nothing to do with us.”
Ah, so that was his game—willful ignorance. He knew the facts, but he was playing GP pet and pretending it had nothing to do with vampires.
“Just because vampires haven’t caused the problems doesn’t mean we don’t have a role in fixing them.”
“Why should we? Why shouldn’t we focus on our own Houses?”
Apparently proud of his answer, the girl at his side offered me a cocky eyebrow.
“Because if the city falls,” Jonah said, “the Houses fall with it.”
“Chicago isn’t going to fall,” Morgan said.
Jonah stepped forward. “Because the other Houses take up the slack.” The implication in his statement was clear—Navarre wasn’t doing its part.
Morgan’s cheeks flushed. “You have no idea what my House is or isn’t doing for this city.”
“That’s exactly my point,” Jonah said. “We have no idea, although there’s certainly nothing we can see right now.”
“Recall your place, vampire,” Morgan bit out. It was the same warning Ethan had offered to Morgan when Morgan got mouthy. Unlike Ethan, Morgan didn’t quite carry it off.
“With all due respect, Mr. Greer, I owe my allegiance to Scott and Grey House. If you have concerns about my obedience, you can take it up with him.”
Morgan was obviously fuming, sending plumes of irritated magic into the air. But beneath that irritation was something different. A strain of fear, maybe? That would bear a little investigating, but later. One crisis at a time.
Apparently done with the reunion, Morgan turned on his heel and walked away. His girlfriend stayed behind and gave me a none-too-flattering visual evaluation.
“In case there was any question,” she said, “you should keep your hands off him.”
“Off Morgan?”
She gave me a bitchy head-bop.
“Rest assured, Morgan’s not even on my radar. But good luck with him.” You’ll need it, I thought, the first time he has a bout of jealousy or starts pouting about some perceived slight.
It’s not that I thought Morgan was a bad guy, but the boy loved drama.
The date muttered something unflattering. Being the bigger person, I merely smiled back at her. But the fantasy reaction still played out in my mind—the one in which I put her on the floor with only a finger at one of her pressure points and held her there until she apologized for the slight.
Maybe Ethan had been right. Maybe being a vampire was going to wring the humanity right out of me.
After another few seconds of nasty looks, she turned and disappeared into the crowd. Jonah and I stood there for a moment staring after her. This time, instead of waiting for his strike, I played offense.
“We only dated for a few weeks.”
He smiled a little. “I know about the bargain,” he said. “Noah and Scott were in the crowd.”
I’d forgotten about that. Noah and Scott had both been present when Morgan had shown up at Cadogan House, frantic that a Cadogan vampireado had threatened Celina. In my first real act as Sentinel, I’d stepped forward and calmed him down at the point of my sword. He’d submitted, but only on the agreement that I allowed him to court me.
I’d given in, and although Morgan could be incredibly charming, he was much too immature to be a contender.
“How is Noah these days?” I wondered. Noah was a guard himself, but I hadn’t heard from him since Jonah had become my primary contact. He was also the de facto leader of Chicago’s Rogue vampires, those who weren’t tied to a particular House.
“Busy. The Rogues always get nervous when the Houses are in trouble. They fear GP retaliation against them, or internment, if that’s the way it goes.”
“Reason number four to join the RG,” I muttered.
Amusement in his eyes, Jonah slid me a glance. “What were one through three?”
“Helping the Houses, having a reliable partner, and those ‘Midnight High School’ T-shirts. Do I get one of those?”
“Of course. You’ll just have to find somewhere private to keep it.”
I hadn’t considered that—that there would be RG gear, materials, documents I’d need to keep secreted away even within my own room. I’d have to give that some thought.
Jonah rubbed his hands together. “How about a drink now?”
“Yes, please,” I agreed, but before I could place an order, I got a very bad vibe. The building vibrated a little. Only for a moment, but I’d have sworn I felt something.
“Did you feel that?”
“Feel what?”
I froze, and after a moment, wondered if I’d imagined it. And as I stood there waiting, I happened to glance at a cup of water on a bar table beside us. The rumbling started deep and low, sending ripples across the water.
“Jonah—”
“I saw that,” he said, then paused. “Maybe it’s just really big dinosaurs.”
“Or really big magic,” I finished. “I think we need to get outside.”
I could see in his face that he didn’t want to believe anything was out there, but he had a
duty to perform, so he was willing to take a look. “Let’s go.”
duty to perform, so he was willing to take a look. “Let’s go.”
We scooted through the bodies and tables—the humans and vampires apparently oblivious to the rumblings—and stepped into the cool November air . . .
And saw nothing.
Partygoers walked up and down the street. Traffic was light, but there were a few cars out and about.
“I know I felt something,” I said, scanning the street back and forth.
I took another step forward and closed my eyes, letting down some of the defenses I used to keep the mass of information that flooded into a vampire’s brain at bay. For a moment, there was nothing . . . Just the typical smells and sounds of a fall night in Chicago. The air smelled of people and food and grease. Dirt from the ballpark. Smoke from the traffic.
My eyes closed, my head tipped back, I felt the rumble again, the ground vibrating dizzyingly beneath me.
“Merit!” Jonah yelled. I opened my eyes just in time to be snatched backward as he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulleaishe d me against him.
The asphalt split, a twenty-feet wide mountain of earth erupting into the middle of the street in front of us.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I FEEL THE EARTH MOVE
“W
hat the hell is that?” he asked, as we watched this new mountain burst through the middle of Wrigleyville. The asphalt around it cracked and moved, stopping traffic and turning over cars on the sides of the road. Car alarms and honking horns began to ripple down the sidewalk as chaos erupted, people streaming from the bars to scream at the bubble of earth in front of them.
hat the hell is that?” he asked, as we watched this new mountain burst through the middle of Wrigleyville. The asphalt around it cracked and moved, stopping traffic and turning over cars on the sides of the road. Car alarms and honking horns began to ripple down the sidewalk as chaos erupted, people streaming from the bars to scream at the bubble of earth in front of them.
Both too stunned to move, we stood on the sidewalk, Jonah’s arm still around me, staring at it. I risked a glance at the sky, and saw exactly what I’d expected to see.
It was flaming red again, the sky flashing as lightning lit the clouds from within. And I’d bet good money the lakes and rivers were back to black and were sucking in magic.
“This is earth,” I said, foreboding collecting heavily in my abdomen. “I talked to Tate. The problems occur when someone mixes good and evil magic and the balance of the elements is thrown off in the process.”
“We’ll leave aside the fact that you went to see Tate alone again,” Jonah darkly said. “For now. Bigger point—whoever or whatever is responsible for these problems is at it again.”
Before I could answer him, the rumbling began again.
“Jonah,” I warned, and he released me, scanning the street for the next eruption.
“I feel it,” he agreed, and we watched, horrified, as another mountain punched through the sidewalk in the front of a real estate office down the block a bit. Before we could react, a third followed, a couple of blocks down the road.
“They’re still coming.”
“And they’re headed toward Grey House,” he frantically said, pulling out his phone. He dialed some number, but then cursed. “I can’t get through.”
“Go,” I told him. “Go back to your House. Take your vampires with you if you think you need help.”
When he looked down at me, for the first time, I saw fear in his eyes.
“They’ll bury us with this, Merit. They will bury us.”
The heavy weight in my stomach didn’t disagree, but that’s not what he needed to hear right now.
“Work the problem,” I told him. “Work the problem in front of you, because that’s the only thing you can do. Don’t worry about the next one until this one’s solved.” I squeezed his arm. “Things will get worse. Consider it an inevitability and know that I’ll be there to help work the problem when it comes.”
For a second, he closed his eyes, relief obvious on his face. Maybe he’d needed a partner for a long time. Maybe Jonah had needed someone to trust, as well.
“I’ll be at the House, and I’ll make my way back here once I’m confident things are in hand.”
I gave him a nod, and he ran back into Benson’s to grab troops. I stared back at the destruction in front of me, unsure what to do.
“Oh, my God!” someone screaishes to graamed. “There’s a woman at the top!”
I snapped my head in the direction of the screams. The third eruption down the street had popped up squarely beneath a sedan, and the occupant—a woman I guessed was in her late twenties—had climbed out of the car and was perched atop the mountain of asphalt and soil. That mountain was probably forty feet tall—the height of a four-story building.
Within a split second, her foot slipped, and she was dangling over an edge of cantilevered asphalt with nothing below her but vehicles and street.
I started running.
“I’m coming!” I told her, as a crowd of humans gathered below, hands over mouths, pointing at the sky. “Just hang on!”
While thunder rumbled and lightning flashed, I climbed up the old-fashioned way—hand over hand. And the going wasn’t easy. The hill was covered by chunks of broken asphalt over loose dirt and rock, so the entire mountain was slippery. It was impossible to move forward without sliding back a little, and I lost my foothold every few seconds.
The woman screamed again, clearly terrified, so with dirty nails and slipping boots, I kept my eyes on the dirt in front of me and moved, ever so slowly upward, finally mounting the plateau of asphalt.
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