Twice Bitten (Chicagoland Vampires #3)(58)
Author: Chloe Neill

Gabriel’s brows lifted. "The guys sent to kill me talked about the hit in the church?"

"Not the brightest bulbs," I put in.

Christopher and Ben approached Adam, then leaned in to whisper something to him. Adam nodded, then signaled to Gabriel.

"They’ve been taken care of," Gabriel said flatly. His tone raised the hair at the back of my neck, and I reminded myself never to cross him. "Can we proceed?"

"There’s a chance that whoever put out the contract will try again," Ethan warned him. "That we dealt with these two doesn’t mean we eliminated the risk." Gabriel reached out and gave him a manly arm pat. "The show must go on." With no fanfare, and no introduction, Gabriel stepped to the lectern. Ethan and I took positions on his right. At his immediate left stood Robin and Jason. Adam and Fallon stood point on the far left. I found Jeff in the crowd, sitting on the end of the second pew, arms crossed over his chest, his expression grave.

Gabriel began to speak, his voice booming through the church’s speaker system, the sound bouncing across the stone walls. And weirder still, he recited a poem. It was Yeats, I think, if my nearly completed PhD in English lit was working correctly.

" ‘I have heard the pigeons of the seven woods/make their faint thunder,’ " he said. " ‘And the garden bees/hum in the lime-tree flowers; and put away/the unavailing outcries and the old bitterness/that empty the heart.’ "

I couldn’t help it; my jaw dropped. A room full of three hundred shifters in varying degrees of denim and leather, carrying all manner of weaponry, was now staring rapt at the leader of the North American Central Pack of shifters as he read them a poem about nature. They nodded their agreement, heads bobbing like faithful parishioners in church, which, I suppose, they were.

" ‘I have forgot awhile/Tara uprooted, and new commonness /upon the throne and crying about the streets/and hanging its paper flowers from post to post./Because it is alone of all things happy./I am contented – ‘ "

Gabe paused, lifted his gaze, and lifted his hands to the crowd around him. They shouted their affirmations, some standing, some with hands raised, eyes closed rapturously as they celebrated the world and pronounced their contentment. Goose bumps rose on my arms, and not just because the magic in the room had reached electric levels.

" ‘For I know that quiet/wanders laughing and eating her wild heart/among pigeons and bees, while that Great Archer, who but awaits his hour to shoot, still hangs/a cloudy quiver – ‘ "

" ‘Over Pairc-na-lee!’ "finished the entire group of them together, and then they burst into raucous applause. Without waiting for the thunder to quiet again, Gabriel dropped the bomb.

"Tony Marino, leader of the Great Northwestern Pack, is dead." The chapel went immediately silent.

"We convene today with four Packs, but three alphas. When we are done, the Great Northwestern will begin the task of choosing another to speak for the communal voice, for the Great Family. But today, we must focus on the business at hand."

A tall, thin, rough-looking man stood up from his seat in the middle of the room and punched a finger in Gabe’s direction. "Fuck that," he said. "Our Apex, our father, is dead, and you tell us this now? This is bullshit."

More shifters popped out of their seats, their voices joining the clamor. You could see the pain in their faces, the shock of their loss. But that was nothing compared to their irritation at the leader of the North American Central.

Adam, Jason, and the others tensed, moving a half step forward as if preparing for inevitable violence. I raised my right hand to the handle of my katana, the easier to free it should the need arise.

"And you’ve brought goddamned vampires to a convocation!" accused one man with a military-style crew cut. "This is our meeting, our gathering. A gathering of Pack, of kith and kin. They contaminate it." Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest, waiting as they hurled insults and anger in his direction. He looked unfazed by the allegations, but I was close enough to feel the angry magic that rose from his body in a greasy wave.

On the other hand, I understood now why he’d insisted on going forward with the convocation. There was a lot of emotion in the room, and the city was undoubtedly better served by allowing the shifters to hurl it in Gabriel’s direction – instead of outside at the rest of Chicago. Gabe had broad shoulders; I had no doubt he could handle the barrage.

After a few minutes, he held up his hands. And when that didn’t work, he bellowed – in words and magic – across the room.

"Silence."

To a man, the chapel quieted. And when Gabriel spoke again, there was no mistaking why he was Apex, or what the repercussions would be for not heeding his word.

"You are here because the Packs have called a convocation. If you wish to have issues decided without your input, you needn’t be here. All or any of you can stand up and walk out of this room with impunity." He leaned over the lectern. "But whether you stay or leave, you will goddamned follow the dictates of the Packs. That is our way. That is the only way. And that is not up for debate." The collective energy in the room diminished, as if the shifters in the chapel had tucked their tails between their legs.

"You’re right," he continued. "There are vampires in our midst, and that’s a change in Pack protocol.

We aren’t like them, and maybe we’ll never heal the wounds between our people. But rest assured, war is coming whether we like it or not. And you’re right – there are vampires who care little for the Packs, just as there are Pack members who are willing to assassinate their alphas. But I have seen things." You could have heard a pin drop in the room at that revelation. The Pack members must have trusted in whatever prophecy Gabriel was about to make.

"I have seen that future," he said. "I have seen the future of my child." He beat a fist against his chest.

"My son. I have seen the face of those who will keep him safe when times become the hardest for all of us."

He dropped his gaze, and when he raised it again, knowledge in his eyes, he turned his head . . . and he looked at me. There was pleading in his eyes.

My lips parted.

"Vampires will keep him safe," he said, and we stared at each other, and I saw the racing events of his future – and mine – in his eyes. No story lines, no dates, but I saw enough, including the eyes of his child, and another set of green eyes, eyes that looked nothing – and everything – like Ethan’s. I had no way of knowing how powerful, how accurate, a shifter’s visions were . . . but it packed a punch.

Tears stinging my eyes, Gabriel looked away again.