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CHAPTER NINETEEN



OLD WOUNDS

Mallory concluded they hadn’t distilled the plant’s “salt” as much as they’d needed to before running the experiment. But otherwise it was a success. They cleaned up the mess and put out the residual sparks, and Mallory headed home to work on the machine.

The rest of us went back inside, found vampires streaming toward the cafeteria. Margot had prepared an all-American dinner: hot dogs with the appropriate Chicago trimmings, hand-cut fries, milk shakes. Meals like that were always more popular than the fancy French things she was just as capable of cooking.

Ethan and I grabbed food, but took it back to the office to talk through status while we ate. Ethan no longer ate his hot dog with a fork off undoubtedly expensive China, and he’d striped it with neon relish and added sport peppers, which brought it closer to a proper Chicago dog. I was getting through.

“Would you like to tell me about your RG visit?” he asked, taking a bite.

“Nothing changed,” I said. “That’s really all there is to say. We’re at an impasse.”

“Odd. You’d think meeting atop the Navy Pier Ferris wheel would make for a happy occasion.”

I started to say something, then looked at him. “Are you trying to guess where the meetings are?”

“I would do no such thing.”

“You completely would. But, seriously, the Ferris wheel?”

He formed a box with his fingers. “I believe it has cars.”

I just shook my head. “How have you lived here so long without a ride on the Ferris wheel?”

“I’m a vampire,” he said, as if that was the obvious explanation.

I just sighed.

“Did they recognize the Rogue?”

“No. No one recognized him, and no one had seen any alchemy. They don’t seem naive to the possibility Reed’s our villain, but they don’t seem terribly interested in doing anything about it, either. I gave them a speech about how we’re the allies, not the enemies, and then walked out and left them to think about it.”

Ethan smiled, attacked his dog. “There may be a Master in you yet.”

“Don’t even joke about that. I know you have to look at bank statements and spreadsheets.”

“There’s nothing like the beauty of a good P-and-L statement.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

There was a knock on the threshold, and we both looked up.

Jonah stood in the doorway.

Assuming he was there for me, I wiped my mouth with a napkin, rose. “Hey. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner. Could we talk? Merit, I mean.”

I blinked. I hadn’t expected to see him here, much less to pose anything in the form of a question. I’d expected yelling, angry text messages, demands that I return the Midnight High T-shirts and medal I’d received when I was inducted. But asking me to talk? That was a new one.

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