Catcher's brow furrowed, but he shook his head. "The Order has the Maleficium. It's in Nebraska in the silo under thirty feet of farmland and Order lock and key."
"I'm sorry," I interrupted. "The silo?"
"Abandoned missile silo. Nebraska's in the middle of the country, so it's ful of Cold War strategic defense munitions.
You know - far enough away from the coasts that you could keep the important stuff there."
"If you say so. Is it secure?"
"Whatever else I might say about the Order - and believe me, I have many choice words in mind - they would not al ow the Maleficium to leave the silo. Tate just likes watching you squirm. The man is a total sadist."
"He succeeded," I said. "I'm squirming. If he doesn't have t h e Maleficium, maybe he's working through someone else. Has he had any visitors?"
"You're the only one we've al owed in."
So much for that theory. "Then by my estimation, here's what we're left with: He says he's not involved, and I tend to believe him. And last we talked, you did, too." I braced myself. "If it's not Tate, and if the Maleficium's involved, and if the Order has the Maleficium . . ." I let him fil in the blank.
"It's not me or Mal ory."
"I know. But that only leaves one person. Simon is the only person in Chicago who's official y associated with the Order. Wouldn't that also make him the only person in Chicago who has access to the Maleficium?"
Catcher didn't respond.
"What's the history with you and Simon?" I asked.
Catcher squealed the golf cart to a stop in front of the gate in a flurry of rocks and gravel. "The problem," he said,
"isn't historicto iniv wal."
"We're past personal vendettas at this point."
"It's not a goddamned personal vendetta!" Catcher yel ed, slamming his fist into the cart's plastic dashboard. "I wanted to protect her from this. I didn't want her dealing with Order bul shit, dealing with Order politics, dealing with Order flunkies. She is freaking out, and we are both exhausted, and he is in there with her - down there with her
- every single day. God only knows what he's putting into her brain."
"Mal ory would never be unfaithful," I quietly said.
"Unfaithful to our relationship? No, she wouldn't," he agreed. "But there are lots of ways to be turned against someone, Merit. If someone you loved was being brainwashed, what would you do about it?"
"Brainwashed? That's putting it a little strongly, isn't it?"
"Does she seem like the same person to you?"
She hadn't, actual y, since she met Simon, which supported my theory that Simon was involved.
"One way or the other, Simon is the linchpin in this thing.
If you can't stand to talk to him, then set up a meeting with me."
"Simon won't meet with a member of the House. The Order won't al ow it. There's a formal process that has to be fol owed just to make the request, which they won't grant."
"I've talked to him before."
"Casual y. You're talking about making him answer to vampires about his actions. That's different."
My patience with sorcerers - Catcher included - was growing thin. I climbed out of the cart, then looked back at him. "If I can't meet with him, then you do it."
Catcher's jaw tightened. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, apparently ready for me to leave.
At least I could do someone a favor.
With another break in the action - since I was surely not going to interrogate Simon without Catcher as backup - I cal ed Keley and offered an update. I advised her about the Maleficium and our new theory that reunification of good and evil was causing the city's problems.
I also cal ed Lindsey, who confirmed the Bruce Campbel movie-thon was under way. I didn't exactly have time for a movie, but I was stressed and tired and I needed real food.
If a movie was playing during the meal, so be it. With dinner in mind, I pul ed over at a taco truck on the way back to Hyde Park and ordered as much as I could stuff into a single bag, which I thought was less likely to raise Frank's ire if I was caught sneaking junk food into the House.
I drove back and slid into a parking spot, then walked back into the House past rhythmical y chanting protestors and stoic men and women in uniform. The House was quiet when I walked in, only a few vampires mil ing about in the front rooms. There was a kind of solemnity in the House under Malik's rule, and I wasn't sure if that was because the House reflected his general y solemn personality, because vampires were stil grieving, or because we were stil under GP occupation.
A mix of al three, maybe.
Without my medal but with contraband, I hustled upstairs to Lindsey's third-floor room. I didn't bother knocking, but careful y opened the door - there were usual y vamps spread out in every spare nook andspah="1em cranny, and if you weren't careful, you inevitably banged someone on the head.
The dark room was, as per usual, ful of noise from Lindsey's wee television and ful of vampires. Lindsey, Margot, and Katherine had spots on the bed, and a slew of vamps I'd seen only in passing were packed onto the floor, maybe fifteen in al ? That was certainly a violation of Tate's rule against assembling in groups larger than ten.
Long live the revolution!
I picked my way across the Novitiates, distributing paper-wrapped tacos like a culinary Santa Claus, and eventual y stopping in a smal empty spot in a far corner of the room.
The vamp beside me smiled and offered one of her pil ows, which I took with a whispered "thanks."
One campy horror movie later, I reached two conclusions:
One: I loved my friends.
Two: I stil didn't get it.
We'd just cleared the room of taco wrappings and vampires when my and Lindsey's beepers simultaneously erupted.
I pul ed mine off and checked the screen. "TRAINING
ROOM," it read, with a "DRESS FOR TRAINING" fol ow-up.
I looked up at Lindsey. "What's this about?"
"I'm sure Frankfurter has some vital lesson he wants to teach us."
"Sadly, Frankfurter does not ask us for advice," I said.
"And I total y support the use of 'Frankfurter.' "
"I knew you would," she said, heading for her bathroom door, probably to go change into our required yoga pants.
"He could learn a lot from two hip, big city vamps."
"Did you just cast your own sitcom?"
"I believe I did, yeah. I'm some witty dialogue and an after-school special away from an Emmy. You know, in case this vampire guard thing doesn't work out."