Not that it mattered. I’d asked for information, and this was his offer. I didn’t have a lot of choice.
I looked at Ethan. “I don’t suppose you could get me downtown in fifteen minutes?”
He smiled with masculine enjoyment. “Let’s find out.”
• • •
It took him eighteen minutes and, by my count, fourteen seconds. That was no fault of Ethan or the car. The LSD was a nightmare, as it had been all week.
Ethan didn’t know exactly where the RG was located, but due to the spying of one of his former flames, he knew it was near Navy Pier. I was perfectly fine with his ignorance of the details. That was need-to-know information, and not even my lover and the Master of Cadogan House needed to know it.
“Just drop me off here,” I said as he pulled the car to a stop in front of the pier.
“I can walk you in.”
“I have to draw a line somewhere. Might as well be in front of Bubba Gump Shrimp.” I leaned over and kissed him hard on the lips. “Don’t follow me.”
“I would do no such thing.”
“You absolutely would, partly because you’re curious, and partly because you enjoy vampire lording.”
“I do not lord.” Ethan bit off each word.
“Oh, you lord,” I said. “That’s why we call you Sire and obey your every whim and command.”
His eyes sparked, light passing through peridot. “I am but a common soldier.”
I snorted. That had been an insult leveled at me by that same former flame. “Yeah, pal. Me, too.” I climbed out of his luxury vampire lording car, closed the door, and leaned in through the window.
“How will you get home?” he asked.
“Taxi,” I said. “I’ll message you when I’m on my way. And if we’re lucky, I’ll bring information with me.”
“Good luck,” he said, his expression utterly serious now. “And take care.”
“I’ll do my best,” I promised, then watched the car speed away.
I looked back at the lake, the broken shoal that led to the lighthouse. I was going to need all the luck I could get.
• • •
Unless you had a boat, traversing the barrier of rocks and riprap that made up the harbor’s protective wall was the only way to get to the RG’s HQ. Jonah had once hinted that the RG had just such a vessel, but they certainly weren’t sending it for me.
The breakwater was several hundred yards long, and it took precious time to make my way across it, which certainly wasn’t going to help with my punctuality problem. The trip wasn’t an easy one. The hulking chunks of concrete were meant to keep the harbor safe, not provide a walking path. To the contrary—anyone making the attempt would have been thwarted pretty easily.
The lighthouse itself was called a “spark plug,” a shout-out to its slightly stumpy shape. I climbed the rusty ladder that led to the main platform, wiped my dirty hands on my pants, and walked around to the red door that led inside.
I waited for a moment before knocking, gathering up the self-righteousness I was going to need if there was going to be any headway. Knocking making me suddenly self-conscious (and not just because I’d be facing the partner I’d seen only once in a matter of weeks), I straightened the hem of my jacket.
They made me wait for a solid two minutes before opening the door.
Jonah greeted me, wearing jeans and a dark Henley shirt, his hair tucked behind his ears. “Come in,” he said, and stepped aside.
I walked into the room, which was heavy on the brass, nautical accents, and 1970s décor. Half a dozen vampires were in the room, and none of them looked pleased to see me. I didn’t recognize many. RG members weren’t in the same place at the same time very often.
I did recognize the man at the small table on the other side of the room—tall and thin, with pale skin, dark hair, and enormous, fuzzy sideburns. Horace had been a soldier in the Civil War. His girlfriend, a petite woman with dark skin and a cloud of dark hair, walked into the room, moved to stand beside him.
It was common—hell, maybe even expected—for RG partners to date. That was another bit of tension between me and Jonah.