House Rules
SEALED WITH A KISS
I rolled up the map and walked back toward Ethan's office; no point in delaying bad news any longer than necessary. The door was open, but Ethan was gone. Michael Donovan stood in front of the bar.
"Is Ethan around?" I asked.
He looked up. "He just popped into Helen's office; they're making arrangements for Margot. Would you like a drink?"
I blew out a breath. "Sure. Whatever you're having."
He smiled thoughtfully. "I knew I liked you." He opened one of Ethan's decanters and poured Scotch into two glasses, then handed one to me.
I wasn't much of a Scotch fan, but tonight I wasn't going to argue. I sipped it, letting the fire burn down my throat, savoring the warmth. There was too much violence in the air for even an old Scotch to touch, but that didn't make the sensation any less pleasurable.
"How goes the securing?"
"Slowly. We're working on cameras right now, making sure we can fill the necessary gaps while still giving the vampires their privacy."
I smiled. "I can see how that would be tricky. We do like our privacy."
Michael sat down in one of the chairs in the sitting area and waved me over. He crossed one leg over the other. "What have you got there?"
"Property maps," I said. "From my father. I'd hoped they'd help us identify the vampire killer, but I'm not sure they'll actually lead anywhere."
Ethan walked in just as Michael's phone rang. Frowning, Michael excused himself from the room and began chatting with the caller.
"Have you heard anything about Margot?" I asked Ethan.
"I just checked in. She hasn't yet regained consciousness - which isn't unusual for a wound of this magnitude - but she's healing very well. Delia expects she'll make a full recovery."
"Good," I said, feeling a wash of relief. Margot was an awesome person and a good friend, not to mention a great chef. She was also a potential witness, and that would be handy in preventing any more attacks.
"What do you have there?" he asked.
I glanced down, just realizing that I still held the rolled-up map in my hand. "Info about the property in Little Italy."
Michael stepped back into the room. "Ethan, if you'll excuse me, I've got a personal matter I need to address. I should be back shortly."
Ethan nodded. "Of course."
Michael waved at me, then disappeared into the hallway.
Ethan's desk phone rang, so I took my maps over to the conference table, hoping he might have a clue about our secret property owner. As I waited for him to finish his call, I sat down, my gaze falling on a stack of papers marked with the same kind of crimson wax seal Ethan had used during his second Master ceremony.
I'd always liked wax seals. They were so old-fashioned, so evocative, so secretive. I ran my fingers across the wax, expecting to find the Cadogan House seal there. But instead, the seal was smooth except for three small indentations.
Curious, I rotated the paper - which looked like an elevation of Cadogan House - toward me. The seal consisted of three letters inside a circle.
The letters? C.A.M.
My heart began to thud, and I unrolled my father's map of the warehouse property and placed it on the table.
There, at the bottom of the page, was the property's owner. Carlos Anthony Martinez. C.A.M.
That was quite a coincidence.
Ethan finished his call and moved toward me, putting a hand on my shoulder. He must have sensed the magic. "What's wrong?"
"The seal," I said, looking up at Ethan. "Whose seal is this?"
Ethan moved closer and looked down at the papers. "Those are plots Michael prepared with potential camera placements. It's an antique seal he uses. He says he likes the mystery."
"What do the initials mean?"
Frowning, Ethan picked up the seal and stared at it. "I've no idea what they mean. It's a handy thing, though. The seal's in his signet ring. Why do you ask?"
I turned the map so he could see it. "The property in Little Italy where Oliver and Eve were murdered is owned by a guy named Carlos Anthony Martinez. Michael's using a seal with the initials 'C.A.M.'"
Ethan blanched. "Carlos Anthony Martinez? You're sure?"
"Yes, why?"
"Carlos was Celina's Second, the one who served before Morgan."
Of course. I'd heard of Carlos, but not frequently, and I hadn't heard his last name.
"Michael said he knew Celina. Do you know how?"
Ethan shook his head. "No. He wasn't a member of Navarre House."
"Yeah, that's what he told me, too. What do you know about Carlos's tenure as Second?"
Ethan put a hand on the chair beside him, the other on his hip, as he frowned in remembrance. "He was ousted as part of a scandal. Although I'm not sure what it was. Celina didn't say; she was tight-lipped in those days, didn't enjoy her notoriety the way she did in later years."
He dialed a number on the conference phone.
"Library," answered a male voice through the speaker.
"Carlos Anthony Martinez," Ethan said. "What do you know?"
"Navarre House Second before Morgan. Stripped of his title, reportedly staked, but I've never seen anything official on that."
"Why was he kicked out?" I asked.
"There's no official record," the librarian said. "But I was a friend of the Navarre House archivist a few years back, and she hinted he might have been siring vampires on the side."
"Siring vampires?" I said. "As in, he was making vampires without Celina's consent or knowledge?"
"The very same. Anything else?"
"No, thank you," Ethan said. He hung up the phone, then looked at me.
"We need to talk to Morgan," I said. "Although I hate to ask him questions at a time like this."
"Unfortunately, the feeling is mutual. But this concerns his House, so we can't avoid the discussion. But I will try to ease into it. I won't go in 'with guns a-blazing,' as Luc might say."
Ethan walked back to his desk and began perusing his computer for files. After a moment, he opened a portrait of Michael Donovan. It was a professional-looking photograph in front of a white backdrop, probably a marketing shot.
Having found what he wanted, Ethan dialed the phone on his desk. Morgan quickly answered.
"Yes?"
"I'm going to send you a photograph. Can you tell me if you recognize the vampire?"
"Why?" Morgan managed to imbue those three little letters with a lot of exhaustion.
"It's background," Ethan said. "It will assist us in the investigation of the murders." Without waiting for permission, Ethan e-mailed the photograph. There was a pause on the other end of the line.
"I got it," Morgan said. "His name is Stephen Caniglia. I haven't met him personally, but I've seen his face."
"He was a Navarre vampire?" Ethan asked.
"Not exactly. He wasn't Commended into the House. How much do you know about Carlos?"
Ethan met my gaze. "Fill me in," he said.
"Carlos was Celina's first Second. She made him a vampire; he was one of the earliest she'd made. I didn't know him very long - Carlos hadn't been in the House very long - when the scandal broke."
"The siring scandal?" Ethan asked.
"Yeah. Carlos had been recruiting vampires who weren't entirely convinced about becoming vampires. He pushed and changed them anyway without their consent. I replaced Carlos not long after that."
"And what happened to Carlos?"
"I don't know anything officially, but I heard she had him taken out. Frankly, it wouldn't surprise me. She didn't take kindly to his exercising her authority behind her back."
Ethan frowned. "And how does that relate to the vampire whose picture we just sent you?"
"He was one of the unfortunate few whom Carlos turned without consent. Celina offered him membership in the House, but he declined."
A burst of magic spilled across the room as Ethan's anger rose and expanded. I'd seen him angry before, but nothing compared to the fury before me.
"Did Carlos, perchance, have a signet ring with his initials carved into it?" Ethan asked.
Morgan's eyes widened. "Yeah, he did, actually. A big gold thing. He wore it on his pinkie like he was a mobster."
"Thank you," Ethan said, and without ceremony hung up the phone. For a moment he stood there, simply breathing, taking in what we now knew.
So Michael Donovan had been sired by Carlos, made a vampire against his will. Michael was now using Carlos's signet ring, and someone - Michael? - had dumped two bodies at a property Carlos, or maybe now, his estate, had owned. But why?
"Why would Michael Donovan care about the warehouse?"
Ethan shook his head. "I don't know. It must have been meaningful to him somehow. Otherwise, there are easier ways to hide a body."
"And how did he get into Navarre House? Jeff said the biometric security was linked to vampires Celina sired, not current members of Navarre House."
"Michael Donovan was sired by Carlos, and Carlos was sired by Celina. The chemistry would be the same for both, as they'd both carry her particular mutation."
If that was true, Michael Donovan could be our killer.
Ethan cursed. "That son of a bitch. I let him into my House, Merit. I asked him for advice and shared our security protocols with him. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have been so naive?"
"Oh, God," I said, looking up at him. "I told him I had the map, and then you walked in, and that's when he left. Does he know? Does he know that we know?"
"Christ," Ethan said, vaulting from his seat and running to the front door, then out to the gate where humans now stood watch. I followed behind.
"The brown-haired vampire," Ethan said, then indicated a height. "Is he here?"
The humans exchanged a glance. "He left," said the one on the right. "About five minutes ago." She put a hand on her revolver. "Is there trouble?"
"We aren't sure. What was he driving?"
"Tonight, a black SUV."
Just like the vehicle that had lured Oliver and Eve into the alley and stopped me and Ethan on the street a few nights ago.
Ethan swore out another string of curses, this time including words I'd never heard before; in fairness, some of them may have been in Swedish.
"Assemble the team, if you would, Sentinel. I think it's time we explore a plan to handle Michael Donovan."
* * *
Luc, Malik, and the guards were easy to assemble. We gave them an overview of our theory, then called Catcher, Jeff, my grandfather, and Jonah, as Scott's proxy, and patched them in by phone. I considered calling Morgan, but thought it best to wait until we'd finalized a hypothesis.
When the Cadogan vampires took seats around the Ops Room table, Ethan got the ball rolling.
"We believe the man I hired as a security consultant, Michael Donovan, is the killer of Oliver, Eve, Katya, and Zoey. He also injured a member of my House."
He paused to allow a moment for shocked noises and expressions.
"Morgan Greer has confirmed that Michael Donovan was made a vampire by Carlos Anthony Martinez, Second to Celina before Morgan was appointed. Unfortunately, Carlos made Michael a vampire without his consent and, in fact, over Michael's strong objection. We believe Carlos is deceased.
"We believe Michael killed Oliver and Eve and placed their bodies in a building owned by Carlos's estate. We have learned he stamps his documents with a signet ring that bears the initials 'C.A.M.,' and that once belonged to Carlos. Because Celina made Carlos, and Carlos made Michael, we believe that would have given him entry into Navarre House despite their biometric protocols."
"Jeff," I asked, "do you think that would work?"
"Without a doubt," he said grimly. "Vampirism is genetic, so Celina's genetic marker would be the trigger. If she sired them, or she made a vampire who sired them, they'd be there."
Ethan nodded at me. He'd been right about that.
"We also know Michael drives a black SUV of the same approximate size and color of the vehicle that lured Oliver and Eve into the alley and followed me and Merit."
"Our working theory," Luc said, "is that Michael Donovan was made a vampire mostly without his consent. He takes that personally, maybe has a secret vendetta against vampires who took away his humanity and so on and so forth. He'd have to be a self-hating son of a bitch, but we've heard weaker reasons for murder."
"All this because he's still angry at Carlos," Jeff marveled.
I understood Jeff's surprise, but also a touch of Michael's anger. Ethan had made me a vampire without my consent. He'd done it to save my life, but my initial nights as a supernatural had included frustrating realizations of all I'd be giving up.
"The fact that he makes use of the ring and the initials suggests he's harboring some anger," my grandfather said. "He is, in a sense, reliving his experience each time he kills, but he gets to be the attacker."
"Maybe that's the place Carlos turned him," Catcher said. "It's unlikely to be a place he'd soon forget."
"That's a good thought," Ethan said. "We'll check with Morgan."
I nodded. "After Oliver and Eve, he gets brave. He walks right into Navarre House, takes them out while everyone else is asleep."
"The connection there is easy," Luc said. "Revenge against the House that created the monster who attacked him."
"And earlier tonight, he attacks Margot outside the House."
"Unfortunately," Luc said, "the video doesn't help us on that one. Coincidentally, after the GP ceremony, Michael recommended we upgrade the cameras to get a better view, so we're in between hardware. There's no video in the back of the House." Not that Luc sounded bitter. At all.
I saw the flash of regret in Ethan's eyes. Michael had been his hire, and he'd been badly bitten.
"Why Cadogan?" Jonah asked. "What's the connection there to Carlos?"
"We aren't sure," Ethan said. "It could be part of his escalation. He killed Rogue vampires, then Navarre vampires, then attempted to kill a Cadogan vampire."
"And Grey House would be next?" Jonah wondered.
"Perhaps," Ethan said.
"I obviously can't let that stand," Jonah said. "What's our approach?"
"He might suspect we're onto him," I said. "My father dropped off a map of the warehouse plat, and I mentioned it to Michael. Michael left the House quickly after that."
"In that case," my grandfather said, "he might make himself known, especially given the theatrical way he's arranged the bodies. He'll want us to know who he is and what he's doing."
Ethan's phone rang. He checked the screen and seemed surprised.
"Who is it?"
"Diego Castillo. He's a member of the GP," he said, for the nonvampires on the call. "A representative of Mexico."
Something uncomfortable thrummed in my chest. Why was a member of the GP calling Ethan?
Ethan answered the phone. "Ethan Sullivan."
I could have used my vampiric senses to listen in, but since I was already in RG hot water, I thought it best to trust Ethan would tell us what we needed to know.
But when he sat straight up, my heart sped exponentially.
Ethan? I silently asked, but he didn't answer.
"Diego, I'm here with my team. I'm going to put you on speakerphone." Ethan put the phone on the table and pressed a button. "Go ahead," he said.
"Darius and Lakshmi have been taken." Diego's accent was melodically accented, but his voice was firm.
A shock wave of alarmed magic crossed the room.
"Taken?" Luc asked. "What do you mean, taken?"
"We were at the Dandridge waiting for our ride to the airport. Darius stepped outside to smoke a cigarette, and Lakshmi joined him."
Darius liked to smoke cloves, and I had a sudden vivid memory of their peppery smell.
"I saw through the window," Diego continued, "a vehicle pulled to the curb. The driver got out, began to chat with Lakshmi and Darius. I thought perhaps he was a vampire, although not one I knew."
"Brown hair?" Ethan asked. "Slender build?"
"Si. You know this man?"
"I may," Ethan said. "What happened next?"
"Our limo pulls up and we walk outside, but the car is gone, and so are Darius and Lakshmi."
"What kind of car?" Ethan asked.
"I do not know. It was large. Black with dark windows."
Ethan's eyes narrowed, and it didn't take much to guess the direction - or violence - of his thoughts.
"Wait," Luc said, leaning toward the phone. "So someone forced Darius and Lakshmi into the car? How?"
Probably the same way Michael Donovan had done it before, I thought.
"He's got a weapon that shoots bullets made of aspen," I said. "A direct shot and they'd both be dead."
"There were no human witnesses?" Jonah asked.
"The bellmen were inside," Diego said, guilt in his voice. "They were helping us gather our luggage."
"How long ago did this occur?" Ethan asked.
"Seven or eight minutes?"
"We will find them," Ethan promised. "Stay at the hotel, inside, around humans, and do not leave until you hear from me."
He didn't wait for an argument, but hung up the phone, then glanced at us. He looked suddenly tired.
"He'll kill both of them," I quietly said. "If we don't get there and stop him, he'll kill both of them."
"There seems little doubt of that," Ethan said. "I have no love for the GP. We are enemies, but that hardly matters now. We cannot blithely turn them over to a murderer." He glanced up at Luc. "And more important, if we do not find them, there is little doubt the GP will blame their deaths on us."
Luc nodded.
"We have to find them," Jonah agreed. His interest was differently motivated from Ethan's. Lakshmi was a friend, an insider who'd helped save the House . . . and to whom I already owed a favor.
"Why Darius and Lakshmi?" Jeff asked. "What does he get out of it?"
"What did he get out of any of them?" my grandfather asked. "He's looking for emotional closure, or absolution, or something he likely won't find with violence. But that doesn't mean he'll stop looking."
I nodded.
"At this point, the reason hardly matters." Ethan stood up. "The rescue mission begins now. Where will Michael go?"
"The warehouse was his chosen location," Luc said. "But now that we know about his connection - and he knows that we know - he won't go there."
"True," I agreed. "But he might look for another place that's meaningful to him. I'll be right back."
I ran upstairs to Ethan's office and grabbed the papers my father had brought over. When I was downstairs again, I spread them out across the conference room table.
Fortunately, my father was very thorough.
"Someone fill us in," Catcher said.
"The materials Joshua provided," Ethan said, scanning the materials. "He's given us information about all the properties held by Carlos Anthony Martinez."
I picked up the contract and skimmed it. "There are three. The warehouse, then the Comstock building, which is a few blocks north of Streeterville."
"That's not far from Navarre House," Jonah added.
"Yep. And the third" - I ran a finger down the paper, which had minuscule type - "is some kind of strip mall in Roseland."
"Opposite directions," Ethan said. "Would he go north or south of the Dandridge?"
"Roseland is a longer drive," my grandfather said, "and for him to delay the thing he's looking forward to doing - the killing . . . I'm not sure he'd opt to make the trip that long."
"Agreed," Ethan said, decision made; he flipped through the documents, but didn't find what he was looking for. "There's no blueprint for the Comstock building."
"Jeff," I said, looking at the phone, "can you get us details on the Comstock?"
"Pulling it up now," Jeff said. "It's a twenty-story building. The floors are divided between commercial units on the bottom and residential on the top."
"How will we find them in a twenty-story building?" I asked.
"Thermal scanners," Jeff said. "We can use satellites to scan at a temp range for vamps, which will give us an idea where he is. Easy-peasy."
Ethan looked skeptically at the phone. "That doesn't sound especially 'easy-peasy.' Are you just saying that to make us feel better, or do you actually believe it?"
"I didn't say it could be legally done," Jeff said. "I just said it would be easy."
Somehow, that actually made me feel better.
"The problem is," Jonah said, "the scanners will also flag any other vamp in the building."
"Yeah, but what are the odds there's a cabal of vampires in the Comstock building?" Jeff said. "If we find a group of three vampires together, it's probably them."
"So we scan the building," I said. "We go in, take out Michael, take Darius and Lakshmi home."
"I want to see the inside of the building," Ethan said. "Can we do that?"
"I've logged into the property manager's site," Jeff said. "Pulling up schematics . . . now. I'm sending them to you."
Luc pressed some keys, and an elevation of a building appeared on-screen.
"Should we ask how you got into the client section of the Web site?" I wondered.
"Better if you don't. Suffice it to say '123kitty' does not a strong password make."
"Duly noted."
"Merit and I will go," Ethan said, standing.
"You need more bodies than that, especially if there are two wounded vamps," Jonah said. "I'll get permission from Scott to go, too."
Ethan was quiet for a moment, debating the offer. "I'm in charge," he finally said. "What I say goes. No heroics."
"I hadn't planned on it."
"Excellent."
"Glad to hear it."
Jeff whistled, and they shut up. "Vampires, please. It's going to take time to get the scanners in place. I can do it, but I've got to finagle a satellite, and that's going to take a phone call and some security clearance."
"You can find it while we drive," Ethan said.
"Working on it. Hit the road and I'll update you as soon as I can."
"Luc, technology?"
"On it." Luc jogged to a nearby cabinet, then brought out some of his prized possessions - incredibly small earpiece-and-microphone combos that would allow us to talk to one another inside the building.
"One for each of you," Luc said, handing them to me and Ethan. "There's an extra there for Jonah. We'll coordinate the comm here, and keep Jeff and Catcher patched in."
Ethan nodded, slipping the earpiece into his ear, and I did the same.
"We find him, we get Darius and Lakshmi out, and we take out Michael," Ethan said. "Any objections to that plan?"
My instinct, in times of stress, was to be sarcastic, but I managed not to ask if we'd get mission T-shirts after we were finished, or maybe a group photo op as at so many other Chicago attractions.
"No objections," Jonah gravely said.
Swords at the ready, earpieces in place, we headed upstairs and walked outside. Great white flakes of snow were falling across the city, and they'd already collected into a white blanket that covered the lawn.
"Snow is coming," I said.
"Indeed," Ethan agreed, as we walked through the gate. Ethan was driving the two of us, and Jonah would meet us there.
As Ethan and I buckled up, Luc's voice rang through our ears. "Audio working?"
"It's working," Ethan said. "We're leaving now. We'll get this done."
I certainly hoped he was right.