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Marjorie peeked into the office and knocked on the open door, worry in her expression. "Chuck," she said. "I think you'd better come out here."

Frowning, my grandfather stood up and walked to the door. After exchanging a glance, Catcher, Jeff, and I fol owed. We stood at the door, each of our heads poking around the door frame at various heights, like kids in a slapstick comedy.

My grandfather stood in the hal way, Marjorie beside him, their gazes on the front door. A nondescript black SUV was parked outside. It was the kind of SUV that moved in the dark of night, that you didn't know was coming until the passengers were already out of the car with guns . . . or worse.

"McKetrick?" I wondered.

"I wish," Marjorie spit out. "At least then I'd see some action."

We al stared at her.

"Sorry, sorry," she said with a thick Chicagoan accent, the word sounding more like "sarry" than "sorry."

"Pushing paper on sups just gets a little dul around here sometimes, ya know? But, no. It's not McKetrick, who I understand is a very bad person. Horrible." She crossed herself. "God bless us al . It's the mayor."

"Turn off the alarm," my grandfather said, and Catcher stepped into the hal way, moved to the keypad and uncoded the lock.

"Did you know she was coming?" I quietly asked.

My grandfather shook his head. "It's a surprise to me."

We waited for her arrival in a heavy, worrisome silence.

The mayor showing up unannounced at the Ombudsman's office probably didn't portend anything good.

She was preceded to the door by two beefy security guards. When they opened it, she walked inside and peered around. She wore a burgundy pantsuit, her hair flipped at the bottom into an odd curl, her expression disdainful. Chunky costume jewelry was ce jnd. Sh draped around her neck and wrists, and there were chunky rings on her fingers.

After a moment of disdainful review of the office, she made eye contact with my grandfather. "Mr. Merit."

"Madame Mayor," he said in greeting.

"I hear you and your . . . staff . . . have been using the city's resources for private helicopter rides."

He blinked back surprise. "Ma'am, if you have budgetary concerns, we can move to my office and discuss them."

"I'm on a bit of a schedule, Mr. Merit. I'd prefer an answer now."

My grandfather wet his lips, then continued. "As detailed in my requisition report, we needed a ride to Bear Island.

We believed its resident might have been involved with the lake."

"And was she?"

Choose your words carefully, I thought. You don't want to give her the ammunition and the gun, too.

"As I'm sure you've seen, the lake is back to normal."

She frowned, and it wasn't an attractive look on her.

Diane Kowalczyk was the kind of person who looked good

- and even then, not great - only when she was smiling with political vigor.

"Mr. Merit," she final y said, "my job is not to waste taxpayer dol ars kowtowing to supernatural boogeymen. My job is to ensure the resources of this city are used wisely."

"My apologies, Madame Mayor," my grandfather diplomatical y said. "If you'd prefer, the cost of using the helicopter can be doubly removed from our budget for the year. As always, we'l have a surplus, and we'l return that money to the city."

The mayor smiled thinly - and meanly. "That won't be necessary. You see, Mr. Merit, effective today, you have no more budget."

My jaw dropped, as did Catcher's, Jeff's, and Marjorie's.

The hal way fil ed with uncomfortable magic. The mayor and her guards seemed oblivious to it, and she stared us down with an evil glint of triumph in her eye.

To his credit, my grandfather's expression stayed neutral.

"And what does that mean, Madame Mayor?"

"It means the position of Ombudsman is hereby suspended. Your employees are on administrative leave, and your office wil be closed until further notice."

"You can't just - " Jeff started, but my grandfather held up a hand, and then he made me proud.

"I have held my tongue," he said. "Many times, over many issues, I have held my tongue. I walked the streets of this city for a long time - before you were even born into it, I'd imagine. Every man and woman who walks this earth must make his or her own way. And I see you're trying to do what you believe is correct. But you couldn't possibly be more wrong. The supernatural populations of this city need a friend now more than ever. Now is the time to foster mutual understanding, not leave supernatural populations adrift in a sea of hostility."

"That hostility is their fault and their burden," she retorted.

"They made their bed."

"Mayor Tate made their bed," he corrected.

The mayor rol ed her eyes. "This city no longer tolerates favoritism, whatever label you might put on it, and however wel you sel that favoritism to the special int ce songerests that support it."

The demagoguery in her tone and the gleam in her eyes had Future Presidential Candidate written al over them.

"And if humans attack us?" I asked her. "If they gather up their stakes and pitchforks - or their guns - and rise against the Houses, wil that be tolerated? Wil they be treated with impunity?"

She shifted her gaze to me, the peon who'd bothered her with a practical question. "That is the kind of exaggeration that has turned our city into a national laughingstock. This is the real world, and we have more important concerns than whether vampires deserve special treatment."

"We'l appeal this to the city council," Jeff said. "We'l talk to our alderman."

"And they'l tel you the same thing that I have. It's time we prioritize, Mr. Merit. This is how I'm starting that process.

You have twenty-four hours to clean out your offices - and you might recommend your constituents plan on getting their registration papers in order. Good night."

With that, she turned on her heel and walked outside again, her bodyguards behind her.

"I don't use this word lightly," Marjorie said, "but that woman is a stone-cold bitch."

My grandfather wouldn't be outdone by Marjorie's swear.

He let loose a string of curses the likes of which I'd never heard before. There were words in there I couldn't believe he'd ever heard before.

"If she thinks," he final y said through gritted teeth, "I'm going to take this lying down, she has another think coming.

I am not going to destroy al the forward progress we've made for the sups of this city for the sake of her presidential campaign."


Tags: Chloe Neill Chicagoland Vampires Vampires