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Ethan glanced at Gabe. “At the risk of minimizing what he’s done to my House, if Kane’s retelling the story accurately, I don’t entirely blame him. This is as disturbing as it gets.”
“Yeah,” Gabe said. “For you, for us, for the city.” He glanced back at his shifters. “I’m not going to object to their arrest. A little prison time might knock some sense into them.”
Ethan nodded. “You, of course, still owe us.”
“Acknowledged,” Gabriel said, teeth gritted.
“You can start by arranging medical care for the human guards and preparing the House for dawn.” Ethan checked his watch. “We don’t have much time.”
“Then I’ll need to get on that, Your Highness.” Gabe’s tone was flat, and frustrated magic seemed to swim around him as he gestured for Fallon. “And I can now worry about the shifter I’m missing and the possibility a man with an unbridled ego has figured out some kind of charm to control us. Helluva goddamn night,” he said, then gestured toward the damage to the House. “Reed wants to hurt sups, or make us look bad in the press, he couldn’t have planned this better.”
“Who says he didn’t?” I said.
Ethan and Gabriel looked at me.
“I’m not saying he finagled getting your people to the bar, but the sorcerer and vampire were smart enough—and had authority enough—to take advantage of the situation they found themselves in. They play with the shifter, and then they turn the heat onto us. That keeps us from working on the alchemy, getting closer.”
“It’s a distinct possibility,” Ethan agreed with a nod.
Gabriel ran a hand through his tousled waves, which glinted gold under the House’s security lights. Even at night, even in darkness, Gabriel seemed touched by the sun.
“Actually,” Ethan said with resignation, “there is something that will make us slightly more even.” He pulled from his pocket Caleb Franklin’s key.
About damn time, I thought.
“What’s that?”
“A safe-deposit box key we found when we searched Franklin’s house.”
Gabriel’s jaw clenched. “You didn’t mention that when you came to the bar. When you came to the bar,” Gabriel said again, “and berated me for withholding information.”
“So now you’ve proven you’re both assholes,” I said.
They both, very slowly, turned their heads to look at me again.
“Assholes whom I respect immensely,” I said, holding up my hands. “But still assholes. And that’s not an insult to either one of you. Sometimes you’re assholes because you have to be. Because that’s what’s required, and better you be the asshole than risk the people you’re supposed to protect.”
They both watched me for a minute, as if unsure whether to yell at me or not. Finally, Gabriel relented. “What bank?”
“We don’t know,” Ethan said, then paused before identifying the man who was investigating that. “Jeff’s looking into it.”
“Sneaky,” Gabriel said. “I knew he continued to work with you, and didn’t object to that. I didn’t know it was about this.”
My grandfather walked toward us. “They’d like to begin escorting the shifters out to the supernatural facility.”
The city had renovated a former ceramics factory into a prison for supernaturals, given their special needs (like darkness) and abilities (like glamour). Had Ethan and I been formally charged, we’d probably have ended up there.
“Do what you need to do,” Gabriel said. “They’ve got punishment coming to them, and this might knock sense into their damn heads.”
“We’ll give you the origin story later,” Ethan said to my grandfather. “I know you’ll want the details.”
“I would. The disagreement, let’s call it, is done for now?” he asked, looking between Apex and Master.
“It is,” they agreed.
“Good. We don’t need infighting right now. Not when we’re all on the cusp.”
“Truer words,” Gabe said, then pulled out his phone. “I’ll call a contractor. I’ve got friends with connections. I’ll be sure that they have someone here at sunrise to begin the repairs.”
