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Wild Things

Wild Things (Chicagoland Vampires #9)(82)
Author: Chloe Neill

“I’m happy to announce the mayor has agreed to begin peace talks with the city’s supernaturals. The mayor also has agreed to engage Merit’s grandfather once again as supernatural liaison on a probationary basis.”

There were happy cheers and several friendly pats on my back. I would, of course, have preferred my grandfather become a fan of daytime television instead of dealing with more supernatural drama. But he was who he was. And it wasn’t my place to deny him that.

“But there is another issue we should discuss,” he said. This time, my stomach curled into a tight knot.

“Lakshmi Rao has traveled to Chicago to meet with us as a representative of the Greenwich Presidium to set forth the GP’s demand for retribution in the death of Harold Monmonth. As you may imagine, I don’t believe their demands have any basis in reality. But the GP is what the GP is. We will hear her offer, and we will act accordingly.”

He looked at me. “The world is changing. Our world is changing. We will do our best to meet the challenges we face with honor, with bravery, with respect for those around us. That,” he said, looking across the sea of vampires again, “is what makes us Cadogan vampires.” He raised his fist into the air. “To Cadogan House!”

“To Cadogan House!” shouted his vampires in unison.

I loved Ethan Sullivan. Lusted for him, in many instances. But I respected him most of all. And just like my grandfather, he was who he was.

It wasn’t my place to deny Ethan, either.

Ethan excused the House, and the vampires filed out the door, heading off to their jobs or assignments. Ethan and Malik lingered in the front of the room.

I glanced at Luc. “I’ll meet you in the Ops Room.”

He nodded. “Do that, Sentinel. We’ll be waiting for you.”

I walked toward Ethan, nodded at Malik as he clasped Ethan’s hand, then filed out with the rest of the vampires.

He still stood on the dais, a foot above me, looking down with hands on his hips. “Hello, Sentinel. I recall we’ve been in this position before.”

“So we have. When you named me Sentinel.”

He stepped down, touched a finger to the medal at my neck. “And much has passed since then.”

I looked up at him, ignored my fear, and spilled out what was in my heart. “We need a change. Vampires need a change, solid leadership, and a new direction. You could provide all that. You should challenge Darius. Make the GP respectable again.”

Shock and pleasure in his eyes, he stepped forward, wrapped his arms around me, and pressed his lips to my forehead. “There is much to be gained. And much to be lost.”

My heart pounded with sudden fear that he’d included me in the latter category.

“The future of the House is uncertain,” Ethan said, but he didn’t seem worried. He kissed me again. “For now, Sentinel, get down to the Ops Room and see about its present.”

I found Jeff tucked in with Luc and Lindsey at the conference room desk.

“How’s the search going?” I asked, taking a seat on the other side of the table.

“It’s not,” Jeff said, with unusual irritation. “Do you know how long it takes to search every square block of the city looking for trailers one block at a time?” He winced, ran his hands through his hair. “Sorry. I’m just frustrated. This is taking for-freaking-ever.” He looked up at me, and even Jeff—Jeff of boundless energy and good humor—looked tired. “And we don’t have any basis to narrow this down. We have no bio information, no personal information. I even looked online to see if Regan might have sent invitations electronically, and found nothing.”

I blew out a breath, looked at the whiteboard. The information about Regan was limited. Extremely limited. “She lost her mom,” I said. “Didn’t know her dad. Has some insecurities about that. Considers herself a kind of nomad, if the vardo is any indication. But what else?”

“You saw her at the grocery store,” Luc said. “Did she buy anything that might provide a hint?”

I closed my eyes, imagined her standing across the room, a grocery basket in hand. She’d looked at medical supplies, but that was all I could remember.

“She had good fashion sense. Jeans, red cape.” I glanced at Lindsey. “Come to think of it, it was an outfit you could have pulled off.”

“Of course I could have.”

“Designer handbag, too. If she likes fancy, maybe she likes fancy neighborhoods.” I glanced at Jeff. “Can you search neighborhoods based on per capita income? Maybe we can narrow down the search that way?”

Jeff nodded, was already busy tapping on his portable.

Helen appeared in the doorway, looked at me. “There’s someone here to see you,” she said. “A man.” With that announcement, she disappeared again.

I frowned, looked at Luc, who shrugged. “If she thought he was dangerous, she’d have kneed him in the balls. A fierce fighter, is Helen.”

I wasn’t sure about that, but I understood his larger point and trotted upstairs to the first floor.

Damien Garza—tall, dark, and sleek in his leather jacket—stood in the Cadogan House foyer.

“Damien,” I said, ignoring the looks of interest from the vampires in the foyer. “What are you doing here?”

“Regan,” he said. “I believe I can find her. But I need a team.”

He looked uncomfortable at the conference room table, his head four inches higher than anyone else’s. The fact that we were staring at him probably didn’t help.

“How’s Boo?” I asked, breaking the ice.

Damien broke into an endearing smile. “Good. Likes his kibble. Sleeps on an old T-shirt.”

“That is adorable,” I decided, and couldn’t help but wonder if he was bare chested while the kitty borrowed his shirt.

Apparently wondering too loudly. Luc kicked my foot under the table, smiled at Damien. “Tell us what brings you into the city.”

“I’ve got a cousin, a human, who lives in Lincoln Park. I’ve asked my friends, family, to keep an eye out for the carnival or anything else suspicious. She called me earlier tonight. There’s a new development in Lincoln Park called Briarthorne. Gated community, very exclusive. She lives across the street. Said she saw two big silver trailers pull through the gate last night.”

“Jesus,” Luc said, eyes wide and excited. “Regan’s trailers.”

Damien smiled. “That’s what it sounds like to me. And I want in on the op.”

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