Chicagoland Vampires - Friday Night Bites Part 25

"I don't appreciate being handed out like a party favor."

A muscle in his jaw ticked. "What would you like me to say to that?"

I opened my mouth to give an answer just as snarky as my question, but a silver tray appeared at my elbow, interrupting me. The tray held only a small white card. JOSHUA MERIT was printed in neat block letters across it.

My heart skipped a discomforting beat, those six square inches of cardstock eliciting the same sense of dreadful antic.i.p.ation they had when I was a child. My father had wanted peace and quiet and perfection, and on those occasions when he sought an audience with me for some failing in one of those categories, this is how he'd done it.

I reached out and picked up the card, then glanced at Pennebaker, who'd delivered it.

"Your father will see you in his office," he said with a bob of his head, then disappeared into the crowd.

We stood silently for a moment, my gaze on the card in my hand.

"You're ready," Ethan said, and I understood that the statement was meant to be an affirmation.

"Ready enough," I said. I smoothed the silk at my waist, and led him away.

My father rose from a black-and-chrome Mies van der Rohe couch when we slid open the top-mounted, reclaimed-wood door. Where Papa Breck's office had been warm and masculine, my father's was cold.

It fit right in with the rest of the house's ultramodern decor.

"Merit, Ethan," my father said, waving us inside with a hand. I heard the door slide shut behind us and a.s.sumed Pennebaker had attended to it.

Merit, I heard in my head, as I saw what Ethan had no doubt realized and meant to warn me about-that Nicholas and Papa Breck were standing in my father's office.

Nick was in jeans, a T-s.h.i.+rt, and a brown corduroy sports jacket. Papa Breck, a solidly large, barrel-chested man, was in a tuxedo. They stood together, bodies close and aligned, suspicious eyes on us as we entered.

I looked at Nick, tried to ferret out his mood, which didn't take long given the anger in his eyes, the tightness in his jaw. And when he looked from me to Ethan, took in the dress and the tuxedo,disappointment joined his other expressions. The others were confusing, but the disappointment stung.

Papa Breck nodded at me. That nod was apparently the only greeting he could spare for the (vampire) daughter of his best friend, for his son's former girlfriend. I hadn't seen Michael Breckenridge, Sr., in years, but I'd have expected more than a nod. Maybe words, some indication of the closeness of our families, the relations.h.i.+p that had existed between me and Nick. I'd practically been a member of that family, for all the summer vacations I'd spent at his house, running through the halls, through the gra.s.s, along the dirt-lined path to the labyrinth.

On the other hand, I suppose I should have considered myself fortunate, as he didn't even spare Ethan a nod.

"The Breckenridges have received information," my father said, "about a threat of violence against their son."

The surprise was evident in Ethan's expression. "A threat of violence?"

"Don't play coy," Nick muttered. "Don't pretend you don't know what we're talking about."

Ethan's jaw clenched, and he slipped his hands into his pockets. "I am afraid, Nicholas, that we have no idea what you're talking about. We do not threaten violence. We certainly have not issued a threat of violence against you."

"Not me," Nicholas said. "Jamie."

The room went silent, at least until I spoke up. "Someone threatened Jamie? What was the threat?" I asked. "And why would you think it came from us?"

Nick's gaze slowly s.h.i.+fted to mine, stubbornness in the set of his jaw.

"Tell me, Nick," I implored him. "I can guarantee you we haven't threatened Jamie. But even if we had, you lose nothing from telling us what you've heard. Either we made the threat, so we know what it is already, or we've been framed, and we need to figure out what the h.e.l.l's going on."

Nick glanced back at his father, who nodded, then turned back to us. "Before we talked in the garden at my parents', we got a phone call at the house. Unlisted number. She said vampires were interested in Jamie."

She, Nick had said. The caller was female. Had it been Celina? Amber? Some other vamp who had it in for the Brecks, or who was itching to stir up trouble for Cadogan House?

"Today," Nick continued, "I got an e-mail. It had specifics-details about exactly how you planned to harm my brother."

Ethan frowned, clearly confused. "And why do we purportedly want to hurt Jamie?"

"The message didn't say," Nick answered, but the words were a little too quickly spoken to ring true.

Maybe he knew about Jamie's story; maybe there was another reason he thought Jamie might be a target. And that wasn't the only problem with his evidence.

"How do you know the e-mail was from a Cadogan vamp?" I asked. "How do you know it wasn't just a hoax?"

"Give me a little credit, Merit. They gave me information to verify."

Ethan and I exchanged a glance. "What information?" he asked, caution in his tone.

Nick looked away, wet his lips, then looked up at me again. There was coldness in his eyes.

"There were details about you," he said, then turned that frigid gaze on Ethan. "And you. Together."

My cheeks flushed crimson. Ethan, apparently much less worried, made a soft, sardonic sound. "Rest a.s.sured, Nicholas, we have no plans to harm your brother. And I can most definitely a.s.sure you that you were not speaking with a Cadogan vampire. There is no 'together' where Merit and I are concerned."

Not that he hadn't considered it, I thought, remembering our dance.

"Oh?" Nick asked, as if feigning surprise. "Then you didn't share a moment in the library Friday night?"

He turned his gaze to me. "I was told that you pa.s.sed along the story of our meeting in the garden. That you informed your Master that I was 'com ing for you.' "

This time, my cheeks paled. While his implication was wrong-our "moment" in the library had been completely platonic-the gossip part was true enough. Someone had been in the library. Had overheard our conversation. Someone was playing us.

And more importantly, someone was betraying Ethan. Again.I didn't want to, but I made myself turn and check Ethan's expression. He stood frozen there beside me, jaw clenched, unmitigated fury on his face.

"We did not," he bit out, "nor have we ever issued a threat against Jamie or any other member of your family. That's not the way my House operates. If such a message was sent to you, it was not sent from a Cadogan vampire, and certainly not with my approval. If someone in my House has informed you otherwise, they are . . .sorely . . . mistaken."

Despite the gravity in Ethan's tone, Nick's responding shrug was careless. "I'm sorry, Sullivan. But that's not good enough."

Ethan's brows lifted. "Not good enough?"

"We're only asking you not to jump to conclusions," I told Nicholas. "That's all."

"Not jump to conclusions?" Nick took steps, closing the distance between us. I had to steel myself not to step back.

"How naive are you, Merit? Or is that some kind of vampire denial talking?"

"Nicholas," Papa Breck said, but Nick shook his head.

"No," he spat out. "I told you that if you tried to harm him, I would come after you with everything I had.

I will not stand by while vampires destroy my family, Merit."

"Nick, son," Papa Breck repeated, but Nicholas stayed where he was, inches away from me, staring down at me with eyes of furious electric blue.

"We did not issue a threat against Jamie, Nick."

"Donot lie to me, Merit." Nick leaned closer and whispered in a voice that I a.s.sumed was only for me, "They may give you a dress, and they may give you a sword, but I know who you are."

Oh, but I'd enjoy wiping that smirk from his face. I dropped my head, closed my eyes, and let the anger rise enough-just enough-to silver my eyes. I had to clench my fists to hold back the rest of it-to keep my fangs from descending, to keep the vampire asleep-and the fight of it kept me quiet for a moment. I was silent long enough to hear shuffling, the rest of the room growing increasingly nervous the longer I kept my head down.

I opened my eyes again and slowly lifted my head, gazing at Nick beneath half-hooded lashes.

Predictably, his smile faded, his own eyes widening at the silver in mine. He swallowed, likely at the reminder that I wasn't just a girl he'd known in high school, and I wasn't to be bullied to satiate the anger that flowed from whatever prejudices darkened his soul.

"Nicholas," I began, my voice soft and low and lush, "I stand Sentinel for a House of three hundred and twenty vampires. I will not strike first, but he allows me to carry a weapon because I know how to use it.

Because I will use it. I know my position, my obligation, and I will do what's necessary to protect them.

Because you and I were friends once, I will warn you once. Step back."

Nick stood toe to toe with me, his body statue-still, until Papa Breck put a hand on his arm and whispered something in his ear. When Nick turned away, strode to the bar my father kept on a concrete table in one corner of the room, I'd have sworn I felt something in his wake. Something tingly, but I was distracted by the sudden sound of Ethan's voice in my head.

There is a traitor in my house, he silently said.Again.

My heart ached for him, for the betrayal he must have felt for the second time in only a few months, even if it was currently blanketed by a thick, righteous fury.I know , I said back, then promised,I'll find him.

Finally Nick stepped away from his father, a decision apparently made. "My father has decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. a.s.suming that you did not make a threat against Jamie, you have twenty-four hours to find out who did. If you don't contact us within twenty-four hours with a name and your a.s.surances that the threat has been resolved, I will contact the mayor and inform him that Cadogan House made a threat against humans, against my family. That phone call will be followed by calls to the Trib , theSun-Times , and every television station in the metro area. I may also have to tell them some other things I know. And then they'll beraving mad," he said, putting the emphasis on the word so we couldn't mistake his meaning.

"Your so-called celebrity," Nick continued, apparently not yet done with his tirade, "is delicate, at best.

There are plenty of people who think the congressional investigations were a joke, who think youconst.i.tute a legitimate threat to humans. There are plenty of people out there who think we'd all be better off if the vampire problem went away." Nick snapped his fingers ominously. "Poof."

I glanced at Ethan, watched his eyes turn gla.s.sy green, and guessed he was struggling to maintain his own control. Still, he managed to keep from silvering his eyes, from descending his fangs.

"I can't guarantee Jamie's safety from other parties," Ethan finally answered. "And I can't guarantee resolution of this issue in twenty-four hours, particularly when we will be unconscious for more than half of that time."

Nick's expression flattened. "Then I suggest you and your soldier here get your a.s.ses in gear."

Ethan looked down at the floor, then glanced up, but not at Nicholas. Instead, he focused his gaze on Papa Breck. "You should consider the possibility that if threats were made against Jamie, they were made for a reason. That he has stepped on one too many toes, or has involved himself in things that do not concern him. If we investigate this matter further, that information might come to light. Are you prepared for that? For answers you'd prefer to keep in-house?"

I'm not sure what information Ethan was referring to, or if he was merely bluffing. But I had to give him props-it was a good reb.u.t.tal.

Nick opened his mouth to counter Ethan, but his father held out a hand. "Nicholas," he warned, then turned to my father. "He's my son. I will protect him at all costs. Do we understand each other?"

"Clearly," my father answered.

"Twenty-four hours," Nick repeated, and began his stride toward the door.

I put a hand on Nick's arm to stop him. The contact didn't dissipate the menace in his glare.

"Is Jamie working right now?"

His lip curled. I figured he was seconds away from growling at me.

"I'm not going to hurt him, Nick. You're asking a lot from us, especially when we have nothing to do with any threat against your brother. If you want us to figure it out, give us something in return." When he continued to stare at me, I added, in a whisper, "Quid pro quo, Nick."

Nick wet his lips, then nodded. "Investments," he said. "Jamie's selling investments."

Bingo.

"Forward the e-mail to me," I told him. "Use my old address."

He looked at me for a moment before nodding, then went to the door, pus.h.i.+ng it to the side with enough force to rattle the industrial hinges. Papa Breck followed him out, without even a glance in our direction.

When Pennebaker slid the door shut again, my father and I both looked at Ethan.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Ethan shook his head at my father's request. "Thank you, Joshua, but no. We'll handle this one internally.

I'll call the Masters together. If we could just borrow your office for a few minutes longer?"

"Of course," he said, then left us alone.

"Forward the e-mail to me?" Ethan repeated, eyebrows lifted.

"Jeff Christopher," I reminded him, "in my grandfather's office. He's a computer whiz kid. He can help us, and he'll be thrilled to be asked."

There was doubt in Ethan's expression. "He's a s.h.i.+fter, right?"

I frowned back. "Yeah. Why?"

"As I'm sure you've discovered by now, s.h.i.+fters and vampires aren't exactly cozy."

"Sure, but isn't Gabriel Keene bringing his Pack to Chicago? This is the perfect opportunity to make inroads."

He considered the idea for a moment, then nodded. "Make the call."

Ethan ma.s.saged his forehead with the fingers of one hand, his gaze on the floor. "Jamie is not writing for theChicago World Weekly ; Jamie is selling investments. And although we believed we were the victims here, Nicholas believes that we've issued a threat against Jamie." He lifted his gaze to mine. "What do we learn from that?"

"There is no rave story," I concluded. "Or if there is, Nicholas doesn't know about it. He apparently knows about the raves, but that's a red herring." I shook my head. "No, someone's playing us against each other."Ethan nodded his agreement. "A woman calls the Breckenridge house the day before we attend a party there and informs the Breckenridges of some vague threat. Nick asks you to meet him in the woods and raises this same issue. Today, before we arrive at another party, information regarding a more specific threat is sent directly to Nicholas."

"They discovered Nick was the point man," I said. "Whoever's behind this mess figured out he was the Breck to work through if they wanted to create chaos."

"Which is exactly what they've succeeded in doing," Ethan muttered. He crossed his arms and walked to one end of the office, then braced his hands on the back of a leather chair.

"Wait," I said. "The information about the story that first came from the Ombud's office-the stuff we talked about with Luc. How did they find out?"

"Anonymous tip," Ethan said. "The information was left at the office."