"Don't look so surprised, Sentinel," he said, moving past me to type numbers into the keypad. "I can't in good conscience allow you to have all the fun."
"Where's Juliet?" I asked.
Ethan opened the basement door and held it out for me.
"I'm still inside," Juliet said, her voice echoing through my tiny earpiece as Ethan and I walked to the Mercedes. "Kel and I are keeping an eye on the House while you four play vampire A-Team. And speaking of fun, numb nuts is still in his room and Kelley's got an eye out from the third-floor kitchen. Everybody else in position?"
"Car number one ready," Luc said. "And Blondie's here, looking pretty as always."
I bit back a smile at the curses that lit through the earpiece.
"Third floor ready," Kelley whispered.
"Car number two is ready," Ethan said, chirping the alarm on the Mercedes. We climbed inside and Ethan started the engine, adjusted his mirror, and headed for the ramp.
"Sending the e-mail in three, two, one, sent."
There was no sound but for the clank of the rising garage door and the hum of the Mercedes. Ethan pulled the car onto the street, this corner still dark and empty of paparazzi. He sidled into a parallel spot and put the car in park. We waited.
It took thirty-seven minutes. Time enough for Peter to check his e-mail, grab his sword, and sprint to the red sports car, which was parked outside the House. Luc and Lindsey were in the least conspicuous of the vehicles, so they took off first, pulling onto the street a hundred yards or so behind Peter. When they were a couple of blocks ahead of us, we pulled out, all of us following the would-be saboteur, who drove east, then jumped onto Lake Shore Drive.
I glanced over at Ethan, who weaved through traffic to keep the vehicles ahead of us in sight. Peter flew north, apparently eager to see Celina, or whoever else he believed was meeting him. If it was Celina, I wondered if he was going of his own accord - because he loved her or believed in her or some indivisible bit of both - or because he'd been glamoured. Because Peter, for all his strength, couldn't overcome Celina's will.
"What are you going to do to him?" I asked Ethan, as we glided beside the Lake.
"Do to him?"
"When he confesses," I said, utter confidence that he would. "What will you do to him?
What will be his punishment?"
"Excommunication," Ethan replied without hesitation. "He'll be banished from the House, his medal stripped. The same punishment ultimately received by Amber, albeit without her participation."
"What else?" I wondered, thinking excommunication was hardly sufficient for the betrayal.
"The Canon prescribes death for the betrayal of a House." Ethan had let Amber go, despite her betrayal; I wondered if Peter would be so lucky.
As if reading my mind, he offered, "Obviously, I don't subscribe to most of the more archaic punishments. Not that he doesn't deserve it."
I withheld judgment on that one.
We followed Lake Shore for miles, past the Pier and Oak Street Beach, then North Avenue Beach.
"Boss." Luc's voice echoed through our headsets. "He's taking the exit. Fullerton. Near North Pond."
Ethan's hands tightened on the wheel. North Pond, situated in a corner of Lincoln Park, was the place we'd enjoyed our previous Celina episode, her attempt on Ethan's life, her attempt to take control of Chicago's other Houses. I understood Ethan's hesitation.
He'd nearly been stabbed, and I'd nearly committed vampiricide. That had been the finale in the bustle of our supernaturally busy weeks.
"The marina," Luc said, "he's heading to the harbor."
" DiverseyHarbor," I added. "It's across Cannon from North Pond."
Ethan followed the SUV as it made a couple of right turns, but stopped before entering the harbor's parking lot.
"Keep going," I told Ethan. "Head him off at the other end of the lot."
Ethan nodded. We passed one entrance, then took a second, the lights on Peter's car the only thing moving in the lot. We parked the Mercedes, popped out, and rebelted our katanas. This time, Ethan skipped the noisy security check.
"We've got him," came Luc's whisper. "Linds is staying in the car in case he tries to run.
I'm on foot. He's heading toward the boat launch. I'm going in, but I'll stay under cover until your mark."
"That's good," I whispered, as Ethan and I headed south again to the rendezvous point.
"If we can corner him against the Lake, fewer escape routes."
"Do it," Ethan said.
Seconds of silence followed, seconds in which my heart thudded against my chest as Ethan and I trotted toward the launch.
"I'm in the car," Lindsey said. "Luc's in the trees to the south. He's here, looking around, obviously waiting for someone. He keeps checking his watch."
"Waiting for her?" Ethan whispered.
"Who would it surprise?" I wondered back. When we got close enough to see him - a long figure before the dark void of the Lake - I stopped and put out a hand to stop Ethan.
"I'm first," I whispered. He glowered for a moment, but then relented with a nod. "Luc, let's keep him in the middle."
"Aye, aye, Sentinel."
I blew out a breath, then adjusted my grip on the katana and released the thumb guard.
Three months ago, I'd been a grad student standing before a classroom of undergraduates. And today...
Today I stood Sentinel for a House of three hundred and twenty vampires. An old House. An honorable House. A House that had been betrayed by one of its own.
No, I mentally corrected - by another of its own.
Peter suddenly turned, katana out and poised in front of him. Behind him, the ramp angled down into the water.
"Who's there?" he called out.
Behind me, Ethan growled.
"Your colleagues," I called back. We stepped through the shadow of the trees into the overhead lights that illuminated the launch.
Peter's eyes widened, a breeze of magic floating through the air as his fear rose. "What are you doing here?"
"We'd ask you the same question, Novitiate." Ethan stepped beside me, his katana already loosed.
Rein it in, Sullivan, I mentally warned him. He must have heard me, as the katana dropped an inch.
"We know why you're here, Peter," I told him. "We know you sent the e-mail to the Breckenridges about the vampire threat, and we assume you gave the 'anonymous'information to the Ombud's office. It's not much of a stretch to assume that you've been feeding someone information about our social schedule."