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“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.
o;Not unlike Caleb Franklin, who was an official Pack member once upon a time,” I said. “Thank you again.”
“Think nothing of it,” Luc said. “He threatens you, he threatens the House.” He patted my arm. “You’re one of us, Sentinel. For better or worse.”
“Some nights I presume it definitely feels worse,” Malik said sympathetically, then glanced at Ethan. “I’m going to get back to fielding calls.”
“And I’m going back to the Ops Room.” Luc put a collegial arm around Malik’s shoulder. “Hey, did I ever tell you about Calamity Jane?” he asked as they walked to the door.
I looked back at Ethan. “I’m shocked I hadn’t heard that story before now. Seems like he enjoys telling it.”
“It’s in the rotation,” Ethan agreed.
“What calls is Malik fielding?”
“Press,” Ethan said, and walked to his desk, then behind it. There was a stack of papers there, and the light on his phone was blinking fiercely. “The Tribune, the Sun-Times, the Chicago World Weekly.”
The first two were legit. The Chicago World Weekly was the city’s gossip paper.
“Who reads the Weekly?” I asked, taking the paper from the stack. I was in the color photograph on the front page, Hailey Stanton in my arms. VAMPIRE SAVIOR? was the headline.
“Not the worst headline I’ve ever read,” I said. “Overblown, but generally positive.” It had been a crappy week for vampires, but a pretty good week for vampire press.
“It’s not bad,” Ethan agreed. “The print media are generally positive. The Internet is the usual mix of praise, condescension, idiocy, and trolls.” He glanced at his computer. “And, at last check, four marriage proposals for my Sentinel.”
My mood brightened, and I leaned toward the desk, trying to see around to the screen. “Really? Any good candidates?”
“I don’t find that amusing.”
“I don’t find fake proposals amusing.” I grinned and spread my hands. “And yet here we are.”
Ethan’s gaze went so immediately sly that my heart skipped a beat in anticipation.
“At any rate,” he said, smiling as he looked at the screen again, “there are several requests for statements, for interviews, for information about the perpetrator and the reason you chased him.”
“They’ll find out sooner or later who he is and what he did.”
“They may,” Ethan agreed. “You don’t have to talk about that unless you want to; Malik won’t respond to any questions in that regard. But at the risk of sounding overly strategic, should you decide to discuss it, it would help build the case against Reed.”
I nodded. “I’ve thought about that. Depends on whether we need it or not. Problem is, I’m relatively small dice. He has too much goodwill in the city, even if he didn’t come by it honestly. If we’re going to bring him down—and by God we’re going to bring him down—it will have to be big. We need a break, and soon.” We also needed allies, I thought, and glanced at Ethan with speculation. “Have you talked to Gabriel?”
“I haven’t.”
I guessed that meant Gabriel hadn’t called him, and he hadn’t reached out. Since we weren’t fighting (at the moment), I opted to poke the bear. “And do you think you should?”
“That’s a bit passive-aggressive for you.”
“I learned the technique from Meredith Merit, mistress of passive-aggressive.” That was my mother.
My phone beeped, and I checked the screen. FIFTEEN MINUTES, was the entire message from Jonah, and it took me a moment to grasp the meaning. I had fifteen minutes to get to the meet with Noah, and since Jonah hadn’t specified a location, the meeting place would be the Chicago Lighthouse, not far from Navy Pier.
There was no way I’d make it from Hyde Park to Navy Pier in fifteen minutes, much less over the breakwater I’d have to climb to get into the lighthouse.
They were setting me up to be late, which was a remarkably petty thing to do. Was Jonah that pissed, or was this punishment for my not having bowed to the RG’s demands?
