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Dark Debt (Chicagoland Vampires #11) Page 28
Author: Chloe Neill

Ethan and Malik shared a look, and my grandfather sighed heavily. I didn’t recognize the name. It wasn’t a supernatural group; if it had been, I’d have seen it in the Canon.

“What’s the Circle?” I asked.

“A criminal enterprise,” my grandfather said. “Based in Chicago, although they have roots internationally.”

“You’re talking about the mob?” I asked.

“Only in the mob’s wildest dreams,” Catcher said. “Bigger, more capital, more connections. And for all that, much more secretive.”

Ethan looked at me. “Do you remember the murders in Lakeview a year or two ago? The alderman and her family?”

I searched my memory, recalled a black-and-white photograph, a tiny body on a square of grass that posed as a front yard. “They killed her, her husband, her children.”

Malik nodded. “Because she wouldn’t help the Circle push something through the Zoning Board. She’d apparently owed them a favor and hadn’t delivered.”

That didn’t exactly lighten the mood in the room.

“That’s how the Circle operates,” Ethan said, then glanced at Morgan again. “What does tonight have to do with them?”

Morgan scratched nervously at the knee of his jeans. “Celina’s notes are coming due because we’ve only been able to pay down the interest, which is high. Loan shark high.”

“And they want repayment,” my grandfather said.

Morgan nodded, adjusted in his seat, obviously uncomfortable. “The Circle came to me with a proposition—we take out King, the Circle wipes away some of the House’s debt.”

“And if you didn’t agree?” Ethan asked.

“They start taking House assets. And taking out Navarre vampires.”

Silence fell heavily in the room.

“Mother of God,” Ethan murmured quietly, likely as aghast at the proposition as at the fact that Navarre was so far in the hole—and we were only just now hearing about it.

“Why didn’t you come to us?” he asked, frustration barely veiled.

“My House, my problem. And I didn’t say yes, so I assumed that was the end of it.” The tightness around his eyes showed how wrong he’d been. “I get that your Houses operate differently. Mine doesn’t. And for better or worse, I inherited the House I inherited.”

I saw it in Ethan’s eyes, the speech he wanted to give Morgan. Something about the Master making the House, and not vice versa, but he held his tongue. Morgan wasn’t easily teachable, and he didn’t take well to criticism, no matter how constructively intended.

“Keep going,” Ethan said.

“I said no, obviously. But word got out.”

“Word got out,” Ethan said dryly, “of the Circle’s attempted extortion and solicitation of murder?”

“Apparently,” Morgan said, the word fierce not because of the House’s apparent rumor mill, but because of Ethan’s imperious tone. Having been on the receiving end of that tone, I understood the frustration. Not that I disagreed with Ethan here. “And I’m attempting to trace back that line.”

“One way or the other,” my grandfather said, “these guards found out, took it upon themselves to help.”

“Yeah,” Morgan said.

My grandfather nodded. “They probably imagined they were doing the city a favor, two birds with one stone. King’s no Prince Charming.”

“Why King?” Ethan asked. “Why did the Circle target him?”

“I don’t know,” Morgan said. “I mean, they tried to sell it like I was doing Chicago a favor. But it’s not like they’re interested in keeping the streets clean.”

“King’s got his own underworld connections,” my grandfather said. “I hadn’t heard he was involved in the Circle, and maybe it’s because he said no. Perhaps this was an attempt to punish or take out King as a competitor.”

“Why at Reed’s party?” Ethan asked Morgan.

Morgan shrugged. “It was the designated location. They said they wanted to make an example of King.”

“In front of Reed?” Malik asked.

“Reed’s a very powerful man,” my grandfather said. “His wealth, his access, would be very attractive to the Circle. Perhaps the Circle made overtures, and Reed didn’t bite.” He considered, nodded, pulled his earlobe methodically as he concentrated. “I don’t know. I’ll want to think about it.”

“They might try again,” I said, looking at my grandfather. “If they went to this much trouble to take King out, he’s undoubtedly still on their agenda.”

He nodded. “Jacobs is talking to King about protective custody. He might refuse—did refuse during his criminal trial when they wanted him to give up his colleagues.”

“Did he?” Ethan asked. “Give them up, I mean?”

My grandfather released his ear, crossed his arms as if to avoid the habit. “As it turned out, there wasn’t anyone to give up. He was prince of his particular syndicate. When you’re at the top of the pyramid, there’s nothing to be gained by giving over the muscle. ”

My grandfather glanced at Morgan. “It’s unlikely this is the last time you’ll hear from them. They gave you a task, and they’ll believe you failed to complete it.”

“I refused it.”

“But your people said yes,” Ethan said. “And someone from the Circle will have seen the news reports by now, will know that an attempt was made, and it failed.”

Morgan scrubbed his hands over his short hair. “This is going to destroy us. The media, the accusations, all of it.”

“It was attempted murder,” Ethan said, as if to remind him Navarre wasn’t just having a spot of bad luck.

“I know that.” This time, Morgan just sounded defeated. “You think I don’t know that? They thought they were helping me, protecting their brothers and sisters, just as they’re supposed to do.”

“You cannot be blasé about this.”

Morgan lifted irritated eyes to Ethan. “Do I seem blasé? Because I’m not. I’m aghast, sad, worried, completely at a loss. But I’m not at all blasé.” He sighed, look at my grandfather. “Can I talk to them?”

“That’s up to the CPD,” my grandfather said, “but probably not until after they’re processed.”

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