Wild Things (Chicagoland Vampires #9)(26)
Author: Chloe Neill

I cursed silently. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t known this was coming, but her timing could hardly have been worse. “You need a favor?”

“I do. But it would be better to discuss in person.”

I wouldn’t renege on our deal. That would be dishonorable for me, the House, and Jonah, who’d put his ass on the line to get the favor from Lakshmi in the first place. On the other hand, I was rather involved in something at the moment.

“I can’t really get away right now.”

“Ah, yes. The murder investigation and the shifters,” she said, apparently aware of what was going on.

“Yes. I don’t suppose you have any pull with Mayor Kowalcyzk? Or know anything about harpies?”

She was silent for a moment. “That’s what attacked the Pack? Harpies?”

“Well, a magical manifestation of harpies, anyway.”

“And the Pack is holding you hostage?” she asked.

“We’re helping them investigate.” That was only partly the truth, but enough for her purposes. I wasn’t about to incite a war between shifters and vampires by telling the GP we were at their mercy.

“When can we meet?” she asked.

I stood there dumbly for a moment, the phone in hand, debating my next move. I’d have to meet with her, one way or the other. But to do it, I’d have to get away from the shifters, the sorcerers, the house, and Ethan. He knew about my RG membership, but he didn’t know Lakshmi was a source. This was going to be tricky.

“I can come to you,” she offered. “It’s a matter of some urgency. Where can we meet?”

I looked back at the table, and Jeff caught my eye, waved me forward. I was nearly out of time.

“There’s a carnival in Loring Park,” I said, providing directions to the first place that came to mind. It would be busy—full of sounds and smells and people—and would give us a bit of anonymity.

“One hour,” she said, and disconnected the call.

I checked the clock on the wall, ensuring I knew when to make my exit. Now I just had to figure out how to do it.

I rejoined the shifters, sliding into the booth beside Jeff. “Cadogan House,” I said. “Just checking in.”

“News from home?”

“Not at the moment,” I said. “What looks good?”

“Waffles and bacon for me,” Jeff said, handing over his menu. “And Damien’s looking at crepes.”

“I do not eat crepes. Eggs, sausage, toast,” he said, when the uniformed waitress walked over, a notepad in hand. “Eggs over hard. Toast buttered.”

“Hon?” she asked, glancing at me over glasses with square frames.

“Just orange juice.”

She nodded and disappeared through a door that flapped back and forth.

“Just orange juice?” Jeff said with a chuckle, sliding his menu back into place. “Since when do you just have orange juice?”

Since a member of the GP asked for a secret meeting, I thought, my stomach roiling with nerves. But I couldn’t exactly tell them that.

“Stress,” I said, crossing my arms against the chill. Patrons moved in and out of the diner, which sent blasts of cold air careening across the restaurant.

“Ah,” Jeff said, linking his hands on the table. “So Aline. What are we thinking?”

“The receipt says she left town,” Damien said. “Although the circumstances are suspect. She left a cat and a single box in a storage locker. She left one day into Lupercalia, when she could have avoided it altogether.”

I tilted my head at Damien. “So you think the receipt’s bogus?”

He glanced up at me. “I am not sure. But I think it’s suspect.”

“She could have been set up,” Jeff said.

“Do we know of any specific enemies?” I asked. “Other than the Keene family, I mean.”

“I do not,” Damien said.

The waitress came back bearing drinks, which she passed out with smiles.

“Does she have any friends in the Pack?” I asked, when the waitress disappeared again. “She seemed to know Berna. They talked last night, anyway.”

“Good thought,” Damien said. “I’ll ask her. Other than that, I believe she kept to herself?” He glanced at Jeff for confirmation.

“Far as I know,” Jeff said.

“What about people in Aurora?” I asked. “Would she have told anyone she was coming? Made arrangements to stay with a friend? I mean, I don’t imagine there are lots of hotels up there.” I leaned forward, curious. “Actually, how do you accommodate everyone if the Packs get together up there?”

“Giant puppy piles,” Damien dryly said. “Curled up on an old plaid blanket by the fire.”

I knew he was joking, but it did make for an interesting mental image.

“There’s a resort,” Jeff said. “A former resort, anyway. The Meadows. Had its heyday in the fifties and sixties.”

I imagined well-heeled men and women playing badminton in long white skirts and pants, staff members carrying watermelons to their bunkhouses, Dirty Dancing–style.

“It fell into disrepair,” Jeff said. “The Packs got together, bought it, rehabbed it. Now it’s private, and it holds a hell of a lot of shifters. Nothing fancy, but it does the job. Plenty of space to act human, plenty of space to roam.”

Visiting the Meadows popped up to the top of my bucket list. “How does a vampire get an invitation to such a place?” I wondered.

“They don’t,” Damien said. “Unless you’re volunteering to be kibble.”

“I am not,” I crisply said, sitting back again. He was joking, but considering the mood at the house, I decided there was still a kernel of truth in it.

“We wouldn’t make kibble of you,” Jeff said. “We’d serve you up with fava beans and a nice Chianti.”

I pointed at him. “You’ve been hanging out with Luc too much, and you’ve reached your quota for movie references today.”

Jeff grinned. Damien rolled his eyes.

“Even if she skipped town because she’s the cause of this, she couldn’t have done it herself.” Damien looked at me and Jeff, eyebrows knitted over those dark eyes. “Tell me about the sorcerers.”

His implication was clear, and it had Jeff shifting in his seat. “They’re solid, both of them.”

“The girl—Mallory—caused a lot of trouble. Has a lot of power.”