"That's a long story," Mallory said, "and it's nice to meet you." She glanced at Ethan. "Are you going to take care of my girl tonight?"
"I always take care of my vampires."
Mallory smiled sweetly. "All evidence to the contrary." Catcher put a hand on Mallory's shoulder and looked gravely at Ethan. "We actually came by here for a reason other than skewering you, and it's not good news. A body was found in a warehouse about eight blocks from the bar. It was Tony."
Ethan blew out a slow breath. "I'm bothered by that on a number of levels, not the least of which is the fact that he was our prime suspect."
"He still could have been behind the hit," I pointed out. "But someone else might not have been happy about that - or wanted to keep him quiet."
Catcher nodded. "At the very least, there's more than one person involved in whatever shifter mess is going on."
"Does Gabriel know?" Ethan asked.
Catcher nodded. "Jeff made the call a little earlier."
"This is not the kind of information I like having two hours before the convocation."
"No," Catcher agreed, "it's not. And it's probably not the last of your problems tonight."
"I'd expect trouble," Lacey said, apparently joining the conversation. "It's highly unlikely the first attack was random, and since the perpetrators haven't managed to forestall the meeting, I'd predict that a second strike is imminent."
"We've arranged backup," Ethan said, but his gaze was on the lawn, his expression blank, as if he were contemplating unpleasant things. "Guards from Grey and Navarre. We'll have communications open."
"Best you can do," Catcher said.
We stood there for a moment, all of us probably wondering what the night had in store.
"I'm going to get Lacey settled in so she can work in my office while we're away," Ethan said, glancing at me. "Meet me at the first-floor stairs in five."
"Liege," I said, dipping my head with perfectly Graceful Condescension.
His upper lip curled in dissatisfaction, but after a wave to Mallory and Catcher and some awkward goodbyes between Lacey and Mallory, he escorted Lacey back down the sidewalk.
"Liege?" Catcher repeated. "I bet I could count on one hand how many times I've heard you say that."
"I'm opting for acquiescent," I said, my gaze still on the Masters.
Catcher grinned a bit evilly. "I bet that's pissing him off." I gave him a grin. "I think he hates it. Which makes it all the more enjoyable."
"And since he's wanted Merit the Acquiescent since the day you stepped foot in Cadogan House," Mallory pointed out, "it's not even immature. You're just giving him what he asked for."
"Precisely," I agreed with a nod, although I didn't entirely agree - it was fun, sure, and appropriate in its way, but still immature.
"You know," Mallory said, her head tilted as she watched them walk, "she's all blond and fusty . . . like an attorney or something. And that's not a compliment."
"Bloodsuckers either way," Catcher muttered.
I patted his arm. "You know, that was very sweet, what you did. Being snarky to Little Miss Sunshine."
"Don't get too excited. It's not that I'm on your side," Catcher said, then nodded toward Mallory. "But I'd be sleeping on the couch for a week if I didn't take her side."
"And my side is your side," Mallory concluded, then held out her hands. "We need to run. I need to start cooking. You be good tonight, okay?"
I stepped forward and embraced her, then stepped back again. "I'll be as good as possible, and I'd ask the same thing of you two." I gave them my best motherly stare.
Catcher snorted. "If we're not playing naked Twister, we're wasting our waking hours."
"Yep," Mallory said as she tugged him down the sidewalk, "that's the love of my life. He's a romantic at heart."
True to his word, Ethan met me in the lobby five minutes later, sans the Master of Sheridan House. But he was followed by Luc and Malik. Luc was in jeans and a white T-shirt. Malik - tall, dark skinned, and green eyed - wore black suit pants, square-toed black shoes, and a crisp, white, button-up shirt, the top button of his shirt open to reveal his Cadogan medal. Malik, the only married vampire in my acquaintance, was also one of the most handsome - shaved head, wide, clear eyes, sharp cheekbones.
But he had the most solemn countenance of any vampire I'd met.
"I believe we're ready," Ethan said, glancing between them. "Malik, the House is left in your care and trusting. Luc, check in with our ground team. God willing, the need of them won't prove necessary. But just in case . . ."
"It's done," Luc said. "We liaised earlier, and we're all in contact. Grey and Navarre are on standby.
You both have your earpieces?"
Like obedient students, we pulled out our earpieces, which we'd both stashed in our pockets, and showed them to Luc.
"Good children," he said with a chuckle. "You don't need to put them in until you're on-site. You might want to do that in a private moment, and not with shifters breathing down your necks, lest they think we're even more conniving than they already believe we are. When you get 'em in, we'll be on the other end."
"Do you want me to try Darius again?"
We all turned to Malik. Darius was the head of the Greenwich Presidium, the Western European council. Ethan shook his head. "Not now. We've tried to reach him once, and he didn't get back to us.
At this point, it's better to ask for forgiveness later than permission now."
"You think he might say no?" I asked. Ethan slid me a glance.
"I think the GP is unpredictable in its current form. We tell them we're liaising with shifters - that we're offering strategic support to hundreds of shifters - and we push the GP panic button."
"We invite a shitstorm," Luc translated.
I nodded my understanding. Ethan blew out a breath. "If you're all comfortable with your respective stations, we'll head out."
"Good luck," Luc said, then gave me a pat on the shoulder. "Kick ass, Sentinel."
"I'm really hoping it doesn't come to that."
"That makes two of us," Ethan said. He and Malik whispered something together - the act was probably one of the rituals related to Ethan's leaving the House in Malik's care - then took the stairs to the basement.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE BIG BAD WOLVES