House Rules (Chicagoland Vampires #7)(25)
Author: Chloe Neill

"I’m Merit," I said. "I’m here to see John McKetrick in the Office of Human Liaisons?"

If my name rang a bell, they didn’t seem to care. The man read off a floor number, then directed me to metal detectors, X-ray machines, and security gates. Good thing I hadn’t brought my weapons.

Jeff and I walked toward them, and he squeezed my hand. "You can do it."

I nodded. "If I’m not back in an hour, call someone."

He chuckled and pulled off a surprisingly cocky expression. "Mer, if you aren’t back in half an hour, I’m coming to get you myself."

"They have guns," I reminded him, but he just smiled.

"I’m a shifter."

My backup plan in place, I blew out a breath and walked toward the gauntlet.

* * *

McKetrick’s office was on the fourth floor, tucked between a mayoral staff office and a traffic courtroom.

The door to his office bore his name and position in gold foil letters. I wanted to key the glass and scrape them off, but I managed to hold myself back.

I was secondarily glad my fear was giving way to anger. Anger was so much easier to bear.

Inside, I found an empty reception desk and an open door. I walked to the doorway and found McKetrick standing in front of a window, looking out over the dark plaza with a mug in hand.

He looked back at me and smiled thinly, the scars on his face even more jarring in person than they had been on television. His skin looked uncomfortably tight in places and paper-thin in others. There seemed little doubt they caused him pain.

"Merit. So nice of you to come by and wish me well."

I glanced mildly around the office. "So this is where Mayor Kowalcyzk is keeping you: in your own little office behind a mask of legitimacy."

"I have my bona fides," he said. "Unlike some."

"I’m a duly registered vampire," I assured him. "I can show you my card if you don’t believe me."

Smiling, he walked back to his desk and took a seat, clearly enjoying the repartee.

"You know what your problem is, Merit? You think you’re better than the rest of us. I know what vampires think – that you’re an evolutionary advancement, a genetic mutation. But being a vampire doesn’t make you special. It makes you a pest." He linked his hands together on his desktop and leaned forward. "And I’m here to protect the city from your particular specimen of vermin."

"You’re a new brand of racist."

"I’m a man with a staff, an office, and mayoral privilege. She believes me, you know."

"She believed Tate, too. And you saw how well that worked out. The entire city saw his bat wings."

He shook his head. "And to think – I thought you’d actually show me some respect now that my views have been validated."

I didn’t think the mayor’s stupidity equated to a validation of his beliefs, but it was hardly worth the argument.

"Does that validation mean that you’re allowed to take vampires out?"

McKetrick looked amused. "You mean our little incident on the Midway?" He meant the last time we’d met, when he’d pointed his aspen gun at me. "That’s in the past, Merit."

"I mean the two vampires you killed. Good Samaritans who were murdered for no reason."

"I didn’t kill any vampires." He smiled wolfishly. "Not recently, anyway."

His tone was casual, and that pissed me off. My anger rose and blossomed, heating my blood instantaneously and silvering my eyes.

His eyes widened with fear, which I enjoyed more than I should have.

"Two vampires are dead, and your aspen gun was used to subdue them."

He looked surprised at the accusation, his expression either really well faked or inexplicably honest. But how could he have been surprised?

"That’s impossible," he said, gaze flattening again. He might not be thrilled at a pissed vampire in his office, but he was warrior enough to keep himself under control.

"I saw the wood slivers, and we’ve had them tested. They were aspen."

I watched him for a moment, opening my senses to his reactions to my accusations. If I listened hard enough, I could hear the thud of his heart and the rhythmic pulse of blood in his veins. Both seemed fast, but not alarmingly so. He may not have been utterly calm, but he wasn’t a frightened predator, either.

"Quit using your magic on me."

I doubted he knew whether I actually had magic, but it was my turn to bluff. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"As if I’d trust anything you say. Look at my face, Merit. Look what you did to me."

There was zealotry in his eyes; he’d managed to convince himself that I was the cause of his injuries, even though the precise opposite was true. I guess deciding I’d been at fault was easier than admitting he’d done it to himself.

"Your gun exploded," I reminded him. "A gun you decided to use on me, even though I didn’t have a weapon."

"Lies," he simply said.

This was getting us nowhere, so I went back to details. "Tell me why you picked Oliver and Eve. They were trying to register – doing exactly what the city wanted them to do. Why did you kill them?"

"I don’t know who you’re talking about." McKetrick smiled a little. "But regardless, if you want to accuse me of something, you’ll have to do it officially."

"McKetrick, you can sit and smile in this office all you want, wearing a suit and pretending to be bestest friends with the mayor. But you’re a killer, and we all know it."

He smiled again, and this time the expression was one of pure malice – hateful enough that it made me nervous.

"And you need to remember who’s in charge here." He poked a finger at his chest. "Me, not you or your band of heathen vampires. Not anymore. My name is on the door, Merit. The mayor has given me the authority to help the humans of this city against the infestation of those like you."

A security guard appeared at the door, ready to throw me out. I guess my silvered eyes had scared McKetrick plenty. So he didn’t just hate vampires; he was afraid of us?

I wasn’t going to fight a security guard who was just doing his job, even if it was for a lame-ass like McKetrick. "This isn’t over," I promised him.

"Oh, I know it isn’t," McKetrick called out, as I was escorted to the door. "That’s what makes this so fun."

Lindsey was right. That man truly did suck.

* * *

Wisely, Jeff let me stew a few minutes before asking questions about my visit, not that there was a lot to tell. He’d found a parking space not far from mine, so he let me stay quiet until we reached the cars again.