Biting Cold (Chicagoland Vampires #6)(25)
Author: Chloe Neill

"I like al those ideas, but I was thinking a magical spray I can use on Malory to wash the crazy off her."

"Like Lysol for evil?" Paige asked.

"Something like that, yeah."

Ruminating on that impossibility, we fel silent again. I heard the occasional clicking of Ethan’s phone in the backseat, and I took the opportunity to update Jonah on our progress and the shifters’ intervention with Malory.

His text message in response encapsulated the problem: WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO WITH TWO TATES?

I wished I had an answer to that.

Just as promised, the jet was sleek and white. It was parked in the middle of the tarmac, where a set of stairs unfolded to the ground.

We waited in a smal lobby while the plane was prepared, and then headed outside when they caled our names. Paige ascended the stairs first. I folowed, and Ethan brought up the rear.

"Good God," I said, glancing around the fuselage. "This is definitely the way to travel."

The cabin was divided into two sections – the first held rows of chairs much like a normal plane, and the second held a conversational area with a couch and flat-screen television. Al the surfaces were clad in buttery leather or gleaming wood, and the carpet was a thick, lush taupe.

"Not bad, hmm?" Ethan asked, taking a seat and buckling his seat belt with a click. Paige sat in a chair behind us, the stack of books in her lap.

I took the seat beside Ethan, and the steward immediately closed the door. As soon as the door was secured, we were moving.

"Very efficient," I said.

Ethan nodded. "The faster we’re on our way, the faster we’re home."

"And we move from one bit of drama to another."

The steward, a tidily dressed woman in a white shirt and navy skirt, brought us glasses of orange juice. "Beverage?" she asked.

I thanked her and took one. I was starving.

"Also, if you’d turn off al electrical devices, please," she said, then disappeared behind us.

Ethan puled his cel phone from his pocket to turn it off but stared down at the screen. Whatever he saw there, it wasn’t good.

"Bad news?" I asked, not that there was much guesswork needed given the expression on this face.

He turned off his phone and slid it back into his pocket, his expression carefuly neutral. "The shofet has met. Whatever their conclusion, Darius is on his way to Chicago to announce it."

My stomach twisted. If Darius was traveling across the ocean to make some kind of GP pronouncement, the news couldn’t be good.

"That’s disconcerting," I said.

Ethan nodded. "I’m sure Darius wil have choice words about their decision."

"Darius always has choice words. And I get the sense he likes to hear himself talk."

"Most men in power do, I find."

The steward walked back to the front of the plane. Ethan signaled her, and she nodded back.

As the plane ascended sharply into the air, the smel of roasting meat filed the cabin. My stomach grumbled, and loudly.

Ethan chuckled. "Hungry much?"

"When am I not?" I grumpily asked. "I suppose they’re bringing you dinner?"

"That wouldn’t be a very wise move when I know you’d pounce on a meal before I could get at it."

The steward appeared at my side, presented me with a silver-domed plate, and then whipped off the dome.

The sight and smel of sizzling steak made my mouth instantaneously water. And beside it, a tidy pile of bright green broccoli, a scoop of garlic-permeated mashed potatoes, and a Thermos of blood. As I stared down at it, she delivered a similar plate to Paige.

"Oh, sweet God," I said appreciatively, my eyes al but eating the food.

"Omaha’s finest," Ethan said with a smile. "For a good night’s work."

The man procured steak to reward me. Say what you might about Ethan Sulivan, but he knew just how to butter me up. On the other hand, I wasn’t convinced I’d done anything right.

"When we arrived here, we had one Tate and one book. We now have two Tates and zero books."

"The book is a move in the right direction."

"And the Tates?"

There was fear in his eyes. "If you have a preferred god, Sentinel, I suggest you start praying. And soon."

I couldn’t fault the ride on a multimilion-dolar jet. It was even smoother than a hundred-thousand-dolar Mercedes, and a heluva lot faster.

We flew out across the dark waters of Lake Michigan before landing at O’Hare, my delightful meat coma giving way to relief as the steward unlocked the door and we prepared to descend the stairs.

The weather was miserable – the ground wet from earlier rain, the air cold and damp. Not exactly a warm greeting from my hometown, but that didn’t make me any less glad to step down onto the tarmac. It was good to be home, even though the trip was short and there was no doubt we’d find just as much drama in Ilinois as we had in Nebraska.

Hopefuly, this time, it would be our kind of drama.

A sleek, silver sedan with a gril like a wide grin was waiting for us a few steps away from the plane. A guy in a Windbreaker and khakis stood beside the car, a set of keys in hand.

"Is that an Aston Martin?" Paige asked.

I slid Ethan a glance, but his gaze was already caressing the car’s lines and curves.

"You’l recal my car was quite totaled," he said, without taking his eyes off his new ride.

"And how much did it cost to have this nice gentleman bring a new ride to you at the airport?"

"A drop in the bucket compared to the overal cost, Sentinel."

"I’l bet."

He checked his watch. "Gabriel won’t have made it back to Nebraska, even as fast as they likely drove." He looked at me.

"We can go to the House. You can shower and get changed, and we can get Paige settled."

"A shower sounds glorious," I agreed.

"For me, too," Paige said.

Ethan held out a hand toward the car. "In that case, ladies, let’s be on our way."

There was no faulting that ride, either. On the way, in the smooth comfort of Ethan’s new Aston Martin, I texted Jonah again to let him know more GP trouble was brewing. I didn’t know what the shofet had decided, but it didn’t portend anything good that they were coming here to announce it. That was just the kind of thing the Red Guard needed to be prepared for.

It also didn’t surprise me that Darius wanted a look at Ethan, to assure himself that Ethan was the vampire who’d earned the Masterdom of the House. There were only twelve vampire Houses in the United States. That meant Ethan had, relatively speaking, a good bit of power. I’d have wanted a look at the reincarnated vamp, too. But I didn’t think it wise to voice that particular opinion to Ethan.