One wall of the cafeteria was composed of windows that looked out over the Cadogan grounds. The landscape lights were on, highlighting a group of trees just beginning to bud, tulips just beginning to blossom. I could see the yard’s French fountain from there and, if I was quiet enough, could hear the gurgling water. While I ate, I kept my gaze on the sculpted yard, my mind on trickling water, on gently blowing limbs, on the fresh possibilities that spring would bring to Chicago.
By the time I’d finished my meal, my mind was quiet again, and my sense of perspective was restored. I cleaned up, walked toward the bright hallway, and prepared to enter chaos again.
* * *
The Ops Room was buzzing with activity and alert magic, as per usual. Temps sat at the computer stations and Luc sat at his desk, pulling a handful of popcorn from the tin as he stared at his laptop and tapped one key at a time with an index finger. Kelley and Juliet were at the conference table, working busily on laptops and tablets. Lindsey was gone, probably patrolling the grounds.
He glanced up when I walked in. “Ah, the prodigal Sentinel returns. Ethan upstairs?”
“Meeting with supplicants. They’d been waiting for him.”
Luc nodded. “We hooked two up with your grandfather yesterday. Intersup conflict stuff that’s out of our jurisdiction.” He fixed his gaze on my cheek. “It looks like you had a very interesting evening. Internet confirms that.”
I stopped. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Kelley,” he prompted with a grin, and Kelley, mouth pursed into a smile, filled the wall screen with videos of me chasing down our suspect.
“Son of a bitch,” I murmured, although I did look pretty kick-ass running down the street in leathers, ponytail streaming behind me. My “Serious Vampire Warrior” face was fairly convincing.
On the other hand, “Did any of the assholes who had time to take these videos consider stopping the guy who’d just assaulted a vampire?”
“Evidently not,” Luc said. “But they had ample time to contact the news channels and sell the footage.”
I walked over and grabbed a handful of Luc’s popcorn, leaning a hip on the edge of his desk while I munched. “Any word from the Ombuddies?”
“Yes. Jeff was able to run a photo search. On-screen,” Luc ordered in his best Picard, pointing a finger at Kelley.
It wasn’t an especially good Picard, so I gave Kelley a sympathetic look. “Has he been like this all night?”
“Unfortunately,” she said, eyes on her tablet. “‘Make it so’ has made several appearances.”
“Make it so!” Luc said again with verve and a very bad British accent. No matter how dire the world outside, we could count on Luc for a bit of levity.
The image popped up on-screen, a mug shot of the redhead, although his hair was shorter in the image and one eye bore an impressive shiner.
“Looks like an upstanding citizen. Who is he?”
“Name’s Jude Maguire. Got a helluva sheet. B and E, assault, larceny. Mostly relatively petty stuff, but plenty of it. You stabbed a felon.”
“What about his connection to the Circle?”
“The CPD’s actually aware of it,” Luc said. He grabbed another handful of popcorn, rose, and walked to stand by me. “He’s muscle, enforcement. Not high enough to control the money. He’s done four short raps already because he won’t give up his compatriots. Won’t snitch, and won’t even take a deal. He does the time quietly, apparently earns a lot of respect because of it.”
I nodded. “Muscle makes sense given the position he was in. It was right on the street, Luc. Dark, yeah, but there are plenty of streetlights in that part of Gold Coast, and he was right outside the House.”
“Ballsy, which is the way you send a message to Navarre.”
I nodded.
“CPD checked his usual haunts, but there’s no sign of him. He’d been living with a girlfriend, hard-bitten woman according to Catcher, but she says she hasn’t seen him in a couple of weeks.”
“Bolted,” Kelley said, and Luc nodded.
“Hiding out with the rest of the crew somewhere, but the CPD doesn’t know where that spot is. Jeff’s trolling the Net for any clues, information. The Circle hasn’t contacted Navarre yet, but I can’t imagine that’s not coming soon based on what we’ve seen so far.”
“How’s the evac going?”
“Slow and steady. Grey’s gotten surprisingly good at handling the logistics. Upside of someone firebombing your House, I guess. Last count, twenty-three percent of the House was out. They’re pretty well spread out—the safe houses within city limits can’t hold them all—but they’ll have better security, at least.”
“The Circle hasn’t interrupted?”
“Not so far. Doesn’t mean they won’t, but they also probably didn’t expect a response this quick or head-on. I don’t give Morgan credit very often, but he’s been overseeing the evac himself, making sure the vampires get out, and get out safely.”
“It isn’t over,” I said. “Even if the Circle doesn’t hit the vampires, or the safe houses now, they’ll wait. They have no incentive to just let it go.”
“Agreed,” Luc said. “And we don’t want to draw this out. The vampires will talk, and the safe houses won’t be secure forever. We’ve got a limited amount of time while the Circle’s playing catch-up to get ahead of them. When Morgan gets here, I expect we’ll try to get him to ping the Circle. Get a demand, negotiate, something.”
I nodded.
“And then there’s Balthasar.”
The mere sound of his name curdled my stomach, and the chocolate chip cookies currently residing there. “Has he shown up again?”
Luc shook his head. “No. Juliet’s arranged for one of the human guards to call the real-estate office during business hours tomorrow. Like the Circle, he’s spiraling around us, getting closer with each turn. He seems to enjoy the gamesmanship.”
“That matches my experience.”
Luc turned to me. “Anything in that experience you think would help us find him? You’ve had the most intimate discussion with him so far. And I’m sorry about that, by the way.”
I shrugged awkwardly at the concern, nodded. “I’m not sure what I can tell you. When I ‘woke up,’ or whatever, we were in an old-fashioned room. No electricity, roughly built. Eighteenth century, maybe nineteenth.” I closed my eyes and thought of the surroundings, the objects in the room. “Four-poster bed. Window. Candle. Small desk. There was an open notebook on it. Another small table.”