Wild Things

Chapter Twenty THREE-RING CIRCUS

The sun fell, and my eyes snapped open. Ethan, golden and beautiful, stood beside his bureau, already dressed and pressing cuff links into place. He’d showered and cleaned up and looked perfectly healthy.

“Good morning, Sentinel.”

“Good morning, Sullivan. Sleep well?”

“I slept,” he said with a smile. “After the last twenty-four hours, that was glorious enough.”

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, hoping for a message or update from Jeff about Regan’s position or the collection. But I found nothing.

“The kidnappings?” Ethan asked, and I nodded.

“Luc filled me in on the details last night. It was a good idea, calling Tate.”

I felt a tingle of relief. “We weren’t sure you’d see it that way.”

“If he’d hurt you, I’d have killed him myself. Fortunately, all is well. And he has a family.”

“That’s what it seems.”

“Chicago has become a very unusual world now that you’re in it, Merit.”

“I’d like it to become a smaller world. We still don’t know where Regan is.”

Ethan nodded. “Keep at it. You’ll find her eventually, and when you do, I want to know about it. I’d also like to address the House before everyone begins their days.”

A bolt of nerves shot through me. Discussions in the ballroom meant serious matters. “About?”

“The future of the House,” he cryptically said. “Get dressed.”

I gave him a salute and toddled to the shower.

• • •

I dressed in leathers and wore my katana, which made me the odd vampire out in Cadogan’s lovely second-floor ballroom. Most everyone else wore their black standard-issue Cadogan suits, their new teardrop medals winking atop pale skin. Luc, who wore jeans, and Helen, who wore a pink tweed suit, were exceptions to the general rule. I moved to Luc, stood beside him and the rest of the guards.

The mood of the vampires who filled the room was nervous but excited. Those who’d missed Ethan’s arrival were obviously glad to see him back, and I could hear the whispers about how their Liege had fared in custody, and if he was as healthy now as he’d been when he left.

Ethan stepped to the dais in the front of the room, Malik beside him. Thunderous applause filled the air. Ethan smiled, letting his gaze scan and catch the eyes of the Novitiates who stood before him.

Ethan allowed the applause to go on for a moment—he still had his ego—before lifting his hands. The room quieted instantly.

“It’s nice to be home again,” he said, which set off another round of hoots and applause.

“The city acted unfairly toward us, toward Grey House, toward Navarre. We have helped this city over the last few months with issues they were unable or unwilling to address, and they have done us no service by accusing us of wrongdoing.”

His gaze narrowed. “I can affirm, for better or worse, that they believe they are doing the right thing for Chicago. This is no political ploy or attempt to win votes. They, the mayor included, have been advised by many—and wrongly—that supernatural creatures are the enemy. Frankly, much of the trouble we’ve seen in the last few months can be laid at the feet of supernaturals. That fact is undeniable. But we also are the solution. And the vast majority of us are trying to do right by the city that we love.

“I’m happy to announce the mayor has agreed to begin peace talks with the city’s supernaturals. The mayor also has agreed to engage Merit’s grandfather once again as supernatural liaison on a probationary basis.”

There were happy cheers and several friendly pats on my back. I would, of course, have preferred my grandfather become a fan of daytime television instead of dealing with more supernatural drama. But he was who he was. And it wasn’t my place to deny him that.

“But there is another issue we should discuss,” he said. This time, my stomach curled into a tight knot.

“Lakshmi Rao has traveled to Chicago to meet with us as a representative of the Greenwich Presidium to set forth the GP’s demand for retribution in the death of Harold Monmonth. As you may imagine, I don’t believe their demands have any basis in reality. But the GP is what the GP is. We will hear her offer, and we will act accordingly.”

He looked at me. “The world is changing. Our world is changing. We will do our best to meet the challenges we face with honor, with bravery, with respect for those around us. That,” he said, looking across the sea of vampires again, “is what makes us Cadogan vampires.” He raised his fist into the air. “To Cadogan House!”

“To Cadogan House!” shouted his vampires in unison.

I loved Ethan Sullivan. Lusted for him, in many instances. But I respected him most of all. And just like my grandfather, he was who he was.

It wasn’t my place to deny Ethan, either.

• • •

Ethan excused the House, and the vampires filed out the door, heading off to their jobs or assignments. Ethan and Malik lingered in the front of the room.

I glanced at Luc. “I’ll meet you in the Ops Room.”

He nodded. “Do that, Sentinel. We’ll be waiting for you.”

I walked toward Ethan, nodded at Malik as he clasped Ethan’s hand, then filed out with the rest of the vampires.

He still stood on the dais, a foot above me, looking down with hands on his hips. “Hello, Sentinel. I recall we’ve been in this position before.”

“So we have. When you named me Sentinel.”

He stepped down, touched a finger to the medal at my neck. “And much has passed since then.”

I looked up at him, ignored my fear, and spilled out what was in my heart. “We need a change. Vampires need a change, solid leadership, and a new direction. You could provide all that. You should challenge Darius. Make the GP respectable again.”

Shock and pleasure in his eyes, he stepped forward, wrapped his arms around me, and pressed his lips to my forehead. “There is much to be gained. And much to be lost.”

My heart pounded with sudden fear that he’d included me in the latter category.

“The future of the House is uncertain,” Ethan said, but he didn’t seem worried. He kissed me again. “For now, Sentinel, get down to the Ops Room and see about its present.”

• • •

I found Jeff tucked in with Luc and Lindsey at the conference room desk.

“How’s the search going?” I asked, taking a seat on the other side of the table.

“It’s not,” Jeff said, with unusual irritation. “Do you know how long it takes to search every square block of the city looking for trailers one block at a time?” He winced, ran his hands through his hair. “Sorry. I’m just frustrated. This is taking for-freaking-ever.” He looked up at me, and even Jeff—Jeff of boundless energy and good humor—looked tired. “And we don’t have any basis to narrow this down. We have no bio information, no personal information. I even looked online to see if Regan might have sent invitations electronically, and found nothing.”

I blew out a breath, looked at the whiteboard. The information about Regan was limited. Extremely limited. “She lost her mom,” I said. “Didn’t know her dad. Has some insecurities about that. Considers herself a kind of nomad, if the vardo is any indication. But what else?”

“You saw her at the grocery store,” Luc said. “Did she buy anything that might provide a hint?”

I closed my eyes, imagined her standing across the room, a grocery basket in hand. She’d looked at medical supplies, but that was all I could remember.

“She had good fashion sense. Jeans, red cape.” I glanced at Lindsey. “Come to think of it, it was an outfit you could have pulled off.”

“Of course I could have.”

“Designer handbag, too. If she likes fancy, maybe she likes fancy neighborhoods.” I glanced at Jeff. “Can you search neighborhoods based on per capita income? Maybe we can narrow down the search that way?”

Jeff nodded, was already busy tapping on his portable.

Helen appeared in the doorway, looked at me. “There’s someone here to see you,” she said. “A man.” With that announcement, she disappeared again.

I frowned, looked at Luc, who shrugged. “If she thought he was dangerous, she’d have kneed him in the balls. A fierce fighter, is Helen.”

I wasn’t sure about that, but I understood his larger point and trotted upstairs to the first floor.

Damien Garza—tall, dark, and sleek in his leather jacket—stood in the Cadogan House foyer.

“Damien,” I said, ignoring the looks of interest from the vampires in the foyer. “What are you doing here?”

“Regan,” he said. “I believe I can find her. But I need a team.”

• • •

He looked uncomfortable at the conference room table, his head four inches higher than anyone else’s. The fact that we were staring at him probably didn’t help.

“How’s Boo?” I asked, breaking the ice.

Damien broke into an endearing smile. “Good. Likes his kibble. Sleeps on an old T-shirt.”

“That is adorable,” I decided, and couldn’t help but wonder if he was bare chested while the kitty borrowed his shirt.

Apparently wondering too loudly. Luc kicked my foot under the table, smiled at Damien. “Tell us what brings you into the city.”

“I’ve got a cousin, a human, who lives in Lincoln Park. I’ve asked my friends, family, to keep an eye out for the carnival or anything else suspicious. She called me earlier tonight. There’s a new development in Lincoln Park called Briarthorne. Gated community, very exclusive. She lives across the street. Said she saw two big silver trailers pull through the gate last night.”

“Jesus,” Luc said, eyes wide and excited. “Regan’s trailers.”

Damien smiled. “That’s what it sounds like to me. And I want in on the op.”

Luc reached out, offered Damien a hand. “Sir, that won’t be a problem.”

“I’ve scoped them out,” Jeff said, the overhead screen zeroing in on Lincoln Park and the Briarthorne development. He ducked to street level so quickly my stomach flipped as if I’d actually been diving toward it, and then he began to scan the neighborhood.

The houses were luxe, with large pools and enormous garages, both rarities in Chicago. Jeff panned the shot through the gate and up the street, past one large lot after another. The neighborhood was huge; they must have razed a lot of real estate to fit it in. Streets gave way to a small park crisscrossed by sidewalks.

“There,” Damien said, pointing at the two sleek trailers that sat at the end of the park.

“Ballsy of her to put down in the middle of the city,” Lindsey said. “And in the middle of the money and power.”

“Not all the money and power,” Luc snarked. “Merit’s parents live in Oak Park.”

“Har-har,” I said. “Not ballsy if it’s a gated community,” I added. “That gives her protection.”

Luc nodded. “And the cost of admission gives her resources and makes them believe they’re seeing an exciting and exclusive safari.”

“I’ll tell Malik and Ethan we’ve found her,” Luc said, picking up his phone.

“I’ll call Catcher and Mallory,” I offered, opting to give Jonah the night off. After all, we had an extra shifter.

• • •

By the time the entire crew was assembled, the Ops Room buzzed with energy and magic. Several vampires, two sorcerers, and two shifters. Jeff called Gabe to advise the Pack we’d found Regan’s menagerie, but they were still in Loring Park; waiting for them would have slowed us down. The longer we waited, the longer we risked she’d move again. And next time, we might not get so lucky.

The map of Briarthorne was still on-screen, giving everyone a sense of the location.

“Two trailers,” Luc said, pointing to the screen. “North end of the park, end to end. Jeff, Damien, Catcher, Mallory, Ethan, and Merit will go. We’ll stay here to keep an eye on the House just in case Regan decides she has a unique opportunity to test our security.” The idea was undoubtedly a good one, but he didn’t look thrilled about the idea of staying behind.

“Helen is preparing the ballroom for triage and shelter,” Ethan said. “Any sups who wish to come to the House can do so. We’ll have transportation at the park in order to get them here. We’ll also assist in reuniting them with their friends and families, wherever that might be.”

“And what about Regan?” Jeff asked. “At the risk of being grim, there are many, many people who will want a piece of her when all this is done.”

“They will,” Ethan agreed. “But our job is not to decide her fate.”

“When we’ve secured the sups,” Luc said, “we’ll call Detective Jacobs and advise she’s a suspect in the kidnapping of several supernaturals. That will keep her behind bars long enough.”

“She’s got magic. He may not want the responsibility.”

“The mayor created mechanisms to deal with Tate once upon a time,” Ethan pointed out. “They’ll deal with her, too.”

“We have a deal with the elves,” Damien said. “Taking Niera home, safe and sound. We’ll deliver her when they’re free.”

Luc nodded. “You get in, you free the sups, you contain Regan. And when it’s all done, you get a groovy sense of accomplishment, and we get Gabe and the elves off our backs. And probably dinner. I think Helen’s ordering pizza.”

Luc stood, braced his hands on the table, and looked us over one by one. “Be careful out there. And set phasers on awesome.”

Crickets chirped in the silence.

Lindsey shook her head and patted Luc’s hand. “Better luck next time, hon.”

• • •

It was late, and the neighborhood was mostly dark. We parked on the side opposite the trailers and made our approach, quietly, in the dark. The gates were black wrought iron, cresting to a point between two stone pillars. The streets beyond were quiet, dotted with ornate streetlamps.

I looked up at the gate, which had to be twelve feet tall. I was better with down than with up and didn’t want to fudge an ascent in front of my colleagues.

But a wrought-iron gate was no match for a Jeff Christopher. While we huddled in the darkness beside one of the pillars, Jeff pointed his magic tablet at the card reader notched into the stone until the light above flashed green and the gates swung open.

“Achievement unlocked,” I said with awe, and caught his flashing grin.

“I knew you were a gamer at heart,” he whispered.

We crept quietly through the gates and into the neighborhood.

“The park’s up the street and around the curve,” Jeff whispered, tucking the tablet away again. We stuck to the median that separated the parkway. The trees on the hillock were still empty of leaves, but they gave us a bit of a shield in case anyone bothered to look.

The road curved, and we followed it to a pretty park that took up a long ellipse between two sets of houses.

There, beneath the limbs of winter-bare trees, were two silver, gleaming trailers.

The faint vibration of magic hummed in the air.

“We do one trailer at a time,” Ethan said. “Merit, Mallory, Catcher, and I will go inside. Jeff, Damien will wait here; keep an eye out.”

When everyone nodded, we crept to the closest one, found the door at the end. Ethan hopped onto a step at the back of the truck, pulled down a giant silver handle, and pulled open the door.

Steps descended, and Catcher and I followed Ethan inside.

“Jesus,” Ethan muttered, making a motion across his chest as if to ward off the evil.

The car was divided in half by a passageway, with fluorescent lights running above. It was clean and white and smelled faintly of pine-scented cleaner. Each side of the car had been divided into containers arranged like small sleeping pods. Each pod held a supernatural. I recognized a harpy, a leprechaun, his skin faintly green, a giantess sitting in the largest of them. They wore clean blue scrubs and looked to be in good health, but their eyes were blank and they stared absently.

Tears pricked at my eyes, but I pushed them back. Now wasn’t the time to grieve for the years they’d lost. It was time to give them the rest of their lives.

I looked over the cases, realized who was missing. “Niera and Aline aren’t here.”

“There’s another trailer yet,” Catcher reminded me. “They could be in there.”

“Then let’s get started,” I said. I moved to the first cage and put a hand on the lock—a long silver pin inside a complicated twisting mechanism—but Catcher slammed a hand against the door before I could open it.

I looked at him, bewildered. “We have to let them out.”

“We will,” he calmly said. “But unlocking the doors right now won’t help. If they’re charmed into this kind of oblivion, they aren’t going to be able to run out of here when we open the doors. And they might be spelled to attack.”

“What do we do?” I asked.

Catcher looked at Ethan. “I’ll take this trailer. Mallory can take the other. We’ll unwind the spells, get them ready for release.” He looked at Mallory. “You remember how?”

“Yep,” she said, crossing her arms to hide the tremble in her fingers. But I’d rather have her afraid than cocky and dangerous any day.

Ethan nodded and we walked outside again, explained what we’d seen.

“Damien, stay with Catcher. Jeff, stay with Mallory. Keep them safe while we find Regan.”

“One thing,” Catcher said, when Mallory and Jeff had left for the other train car. He pulled a set of connected silver hoops from his pocket. “Handcuffs, magically enhanced. It’s what we used on Mallory. They should hold her.” He tossed them into the air, and Ethan caught them neatly with one hand.

“Thank you,” he said. “Get them free.”

With a nod and a spark of magic, he got to work. Ethan and I surveyed the park.

“Odds are better if we separate,” I told Ethan.

“I agree. I’ll take the east side. You take the west.”

I nodded, adjusted the tension on my belt. “Will do. I’ll call if I find her.”

“Do that.” Before I could leave, he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulled my body against him, and pressed a hard kiss to my lips. “Do protect what’s mine, Sentinel.”

I made a sound at the possessive tone in his voice but still reveled in it. That I was strong enough to take down a foe didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy Ethan’s alpha male attitude every once in a while.

“Same to you, Sullivan,” I said, and headed off down the sidewalk.

The night was chilly, but this was Chicago, gated or not, and Chicagoans were used to the chill. A few people were out and about, walking dogs or returning late from work with quick steps around the edge of the park. Including one girl with platinum blond hair.

I’ve got her, I told Ethan. East side of the park, moving south.

I’ll circle behind, he said. You intercept, and carefully.

Without killing civilians or myself, he meant. Not unreasonable advice.

I stepped off the path, watched while she moved closer. She wore a long black coat, nipped at the waist and buttoned up, and a large glossy shopping bag hung off her shoulder.

As she neared, I caught the unmistakable scents of smoke and sulfur.

When she was four feet away, I stepped in front of her. “Hello, Regan.”

She stopped, eyed me curiously. “Merit, I presume. Sentinel of Cadogan House.”

“That’s me. I understand you have wings.”

I’d hoped to catch her off guard with the reference to something I bet she showed very few people.

The ploy worked. Her eyes widened, and her hands whitened around her bag. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I do, actually. At least, I think I do. Your mother told you your father was special.”

Her jaw twitched, and her voice was controlled fury. “You don’t know anything about my mother.”

“Oh, I know a lot about Annalissa. And your father was special, as it turns out. Magical and talented and very unique. I’m sorry to say that he’s no longer with us, but his twin brother is alive. Your uncle.” At least, that was the relationship I’d decided on. We were in the fuzzy territory where magic and genetics collided, and I wasn’t really sure of anything.

“Oh, and your uncle’s an angel.”

For the first time, she looked genuinely flummoxed. “What?”

“An angel, and a very good man, Regan. I can help you meet him, if you’d like.”

She snorted. “You think I’m going to trust you? You want to put me in a cage.”

She didn’t seem to get the irony. “You’ve committed crimes in several states,” I pointed out. “Kidnapping, primarily.”

She looked disgusted by my ignorance. “They weren’t kidnapped. They are my family.”

“They are in cages. Drugged and stuffed inside cages like animals while you’ve been out shopping.” She flinched, proving I was on the right track.

“Is that how you treat family? You keep them safely locked away so they aren’t gone when you return home? So they don’t leave you like your father did?”

“You don’t know anything about me or my family.”

“I know too much,” I said, the honest truth. “And I know you can’t force a family with magic just because you’re pissed off at the real one.”

I’d pushed her over the edge. She let out a scream, whipped around the shopping bag, and slung it at me. I put up an arm to dodge it, wincing when the weight of it hit my arm. Using my hesitation, she took off across the park.

And so the chase began.

She’s heading for the trailers, I told Ethan, running full out and trying to close the gap between us. She hurdled a bench and I followed, thrilled when the vault put me five feet closer to her.

I paused long enough to pluck the dagger from my boot and send it spiraling, end over end, in her direction.

Regan yelped when it bit into her shoulder, stumbled forward but caught herself, yanked it out with a scream.

The scents of smoke and sulfur grew stronger. When she turned back to me, the dagger glinting in her hand, there was murder in her eyes. “Do you know what I am?”

“I do,” I assured her, unsheathing my katana and settling my fingers around the handle. I kept my gaze on hers, and my expression just as haughty.

“You’re the daughter of Dominic Tate. The niece of Seth Tate, former mayor of Chicago, and an angel. You’re also a spoiled brat. But that’s just my opinion.”

Regan launched herself forward, swiping the blade in a shot I neatly dodged.

I sliced horizontally, and she ducked to avoid the blow, bringing up the dagger with a clean shot that nicked my shin. A line of pain burned hot, but I ignored it, finished my spin, and attacked downward.

She rolled across the ground, popping up a few feet away. We circled each other, and as we turned, I caught movement from the corner of my eye—Ethan stood nearby, his sword still sheathed but his eyes cold and calculating.

Feel free to join in, I told him, jumping back to dodge her advance and the tip of the blade.

You seem to be managing fine on your own. The sups are unspelled and released. You might mention that to her.

“The gig’s up, Regan. The sups are gone. It’s just you and me.”

She cursed, moved forward, dropping the blade and using the weight of her body to send me to the ground. My katana skidded away, and snow seeped into the gaps in my leather, sending wet trickles down hot skin.

“They’re my family,” she yelled, trying to pummel me into submission.

“They have . . . their own . . . families,” I reminded her. I grabbed her fist, twisted, and pushed her over, pinning her to the ground.

I was faster, but she was stronger. Regan screamed, threw me off and away. I flew back six feet, skidding across the ground.

I believe now I might join you, Ethan said.

Too late, I told him, wiping blood from my eye. She’s mine.

I put my hands behind me, flipped to my feet, and snatched my katana from the ground, spinning as I turned to face her again.

She flew out an arm and a crackle of magic that sent the tree behind us to the ground with an enormous crack. I jumped as it fell to the ground a foot away, branches swaying with the force of the movement, and a sizzling, chemical scent in the air.

“You’re a little old for tantrum throwing, aren’t you?” I asked, jumping atop a branch and rolling the katana in my fingers.

“I’ll show you a tantrum,” she said, holding out her palms, a fiery sword appearing between them. She immediately swung it at me, and I neatly dodged and sliced again.

“Of course she has a flaming sword,” I murmured, dodging another slice. Regan didn’t have the training—her movements made that obvious—but she had strength and magic enough to wield her flaming steel like a champion.

Sirens rose in the distance, and I caught my chance. I dodged, sliced, and moved gradually toward the sidewalk and the blue and red lights that were racing up the street.

She let out a low growl, my hair standing on end as she prepared to throw out another blade of magic.

I ducked and hit the ground as a sizzle lit the air. But it was Regan who crumpled, the sword in her hand disappearing with a puff of smoke.

We looked behind us, where Detective Jacobs stood beside a squad car, a Taser in hand. He smiled, his smile a deep crevice in his dark skin.

“Just thought I’d offer you a hand,” he said with a wink.

I’d always liked him.

• • •

Ethan applied the cuffs, and Catcher helped transport Regan into the back of Detective Jacobs’s vehicle.

When possession was transferred to him, they walked back to where Ethan and I stood by, just close enough to ensure she’d been taken into custody.

“That will hold her,” Catcher said. “They’re going to use the same dampening magic they used on Tate. Apparently the corrections departments across the U.S. have developed some pretty good skills in that area.”

“I’ll contact Gabriel,” Damien said, nodding toward Niera and Aline, who sat on opposite ends of a nearby bench. Even in crisis, there was no friendship between these particular clans.

Aline stood and walked toward us, looked at me and Ethan.

“I don’t know that I trust you. But I know how to give thanks where thanks are due.”

She held out a hand. Dumbfounded, I accepted it. The deed done, she turned and walked back to the bench, where she sat sullenly again.

“Well, that happened,” I said. “I don’t know if that moment of friendship will stick, but it’s a start.”

“Sometimes,” Ethan said, “that’s the best we can hope for.”

“And speaking of hope,” I said, glancing at Niera, “we have a truce to make good on.”

• • •

They stood in long, precise columns that stretched across the field near their village. They’d traded their simple tunics for gleaming armor and open helms with thin guards that covered their noses, and each held a bow and arrow. There must have been thousands of them, and they stood with robotic precision, ready for action.

Perhaps not so unlike the metaphorical locusts.

We stood in front of them, a smaller group than the last time we’d met. The Brecks, the Keenes, Ethan, and me. More vulnerable to the elves without an army behind us, and trusting that they’d stand by their word.

But not so trusting that we didn’t have our swords unsheathed and at the ready.

And at my side stood Niera. She made no sound, just as during the trip to the Brecks’ estate. But she’d stared at the sights with a mix of wonderment and fear that sent magic through the car. It seemed the elves had avoided all contact with the metropolis that lay at the edge of their territory.

The elf who’d presented us after the kidnapping—or so I thought, as like the fairies, they looked fraternally similar—stepped forward, a standard-bearer at his side.

“A truce was called,” he said, “pursuant to the terms of our pact. What say you now?”

Gabriel stepped forward. “Your clanswoman Niera was taken against her will, by a creature of immense power. We identified the creature. Tracked her. Obtained Niera’s release. And we bring her back to you today.”

He gestured toward Niera, who stepped forward.

The elf’s expression stayed mild, controlled, but there was relief in his eyes.

Niera walked toward him and into his embrace. There were shouts of joy and relief from the elves, and a burst of fresh magic, until the army swallowed Niera into its ranks once again.

“The pact has been fulfilled,” Gabriel said.

“For now,” the elf agreed. “We will see what the future holds.” They turned on their heels and began the silent march back to their wood.

We watched in silence until they’d disappeared completely, until the trees no longer shook from the army’s intrusion.

“I don’t know about you,” Gabriel said, “but I think it’s time for a drink.”