It had really been a tough year for the Ombuddies.
“It will be nice to put down some roots,” he agreed.
“And how is life at home?” While my grandfather recuperated, he was staying with my parents. They were very nearly his opposites: rich, fusty, and very, very fancy.
“Your father has been nothing but gracious,” he said with a smile that looked a little bit tight at the corners.
I smiled knowingly back. “You’re very kind. I’m sure he’s driving you batty.”
“Nothing but gracious,” he repeated. “He’s hired a physical therapist, nurse, and dietician to oversee my recovery.”
“Your Oreo stash?”
“Depleted.”
“We’ll restock you,” I assured him. “How is Dad?”
“Busy. He’s got a new project in the works—a high-rise in Streeterville. Towerline, it’s called. He’s very focused on getting it up.”
Real estate was Joshua Merit’s particular wheelhouse—and not houses in the suburbs. Entire suburbs. Skyscrapers. Condos along the lake. If it was big, splashy, and expensive—and mentioned in the architectural river or lake tours—he probably had a hand (or a dollar) in it.
“I hope it works well for him. I haven’t seen Charlotte and Robert in way too long.” They were my elder brother and sister, whom I hadn’t seen since I’d taken Ethan home to meet them. We weren’t especially close, but I knew I was lucky to have a family.
“Or Robert’s new baby,” my grandfather said. “Frankly, you could stand to visit the entire family.” It wasn’t often he pushed where the family was concerned—our long-running differences were well-known to him—so I knew he meant it this time. And since he was right, I gave him the victory.
“I should,” I agreed. “We should plan a dinner.”
“We could have them to the House,” Ethan said, but cast a glance at the eastern sky. The pink fingers of dawn were beginning to reach above the horizon, which was our cue to leave.
“We can discuss that later,” my grandfather said, offering me a hand to help me out of the van. I took it, jumped down, straightened the hem of my jacket.
“I’ve got some ideas on the swords,” Jonah said, with a glint of amusement in his eyes. He definitely had something planned. “I’ll check in with Merit at dusk, and we’ll check it out and report back.”
Ethan managed not to stiffen or swear at Jonah’s planning my schedule for the evening, but I felt the brush of irritated magic against my skin. It had all the subtlety of stampeding wasps. Assuming wasps stampeded.
“Appreciate it,” my grandfather said. “We’ll dig in a bit more here, see what we can see. Hopefully, we’ll make some headway and find some justice for Arthur and his family.”
Justice would be good. But I knew it wouldn’t be good enough.
* * *
Jonah walked us back to the SUV, just in case, and we scanned the tourists and alleyways for possible threats against Ethan. When we reached Lindsey’s SUV, I unlocked the car and opened the driver’s-side door.
“I’ll be in touch tomorrow,” Jonah said. “Don’t forget about our date.”
He offered Ethan a wave, then mixed back into the pedestrian traffic and headed down the street, drawing a handful of interested glances from the men and women he passed.
I glanced back at Ethan, found his gaze on me, his expression flat and a twinge of jealousy darkening his eyes. It would be a lie to say that twinge didn’t thrill me a teensy bit, but since I had to live with Ethan, it wasn’t in my best interest to let him stew all the way back to Cadogan House.
“Business date,” I reminded him. “Investigatory date. You’re the only vampire on my mind.”
“Oh, I know,” he said, opening the door. “If I thought for a moment he was making a serious move, I’d have beaten him senseless.”
I didn’t think he was joking.
Ethan was halfway inside the car when he stilled and reached outside, plucking something from beneath the windshield wiper.
In his hand was a piece of white paper, slightly larger than a business card. It was thin enough to see that there was print on one side—words that had his eyes instantaneously widening—before he stuffed it into his pocket.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing, Merit.” He climbed inside, closed the car door. “Let’s get home before the sun rises.”
“Is it from the driver?”
“It’s nothing, Merit.”
“Ethan—,” I began, but he shook his head.
“It’s just . . . a flyer. For a restaurant down the street.” He looked at me, smiled lightly, and pulled the door shut. “Let’s be on our way, Sentinel.”
He was lying. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind. He’d seen something on that paper, and he’d lied to me about it.
That scared me more than whatever might have been written there. But dawn was approaching. Seeking shelter from the rising sun was paramount, so I pulled the car into traffic and drove us both home.
* * *
He made conversation on the way back to the House, as casual as ever. By the time we’d pulled up to the House, I was nearly convinced.
Nearly.
We reported to Luc, briefly told him about the murder, the swords, the evidence so far.
Luc confirmed they’d seen no more of the driver, and the guards were preparing to turn the safety of the House to the human patrol at the gates.
We’d had a bad run of luck staffing the guards who watched the gate, a necessity when we were unconscious during the daylight hours. We’d previously hired mercenary fairies, strong supernaturals with serious fighting skills, but they’d betrayed us for an ancient artifact they were convinced we’d stolen. (We hadn’t.) We’d then hired humans, but two had been killed in the line of duty by Harold Monmonth, a former member of the GP, who’d himself been killed. (We were responsible for that one.) We’d stuck with humans but turned to off-duty officers, who we hoped stood a greater chance of survival.
It was an unfortunate irony that the monsters they guarded were the least of their worries.
Our report given, we took the stairs to our apartments on the third floor. The lights had already been dimmed to a soft glow, and classical music played quietly in the background. And because Margot was the coolest chick ever, there was a tray of snacks and water. Turndown service was one of the better perks of dating the Master.