AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You look very competent today.” From any other vampire, that might have been an insult. But Marion wasn’t one for sarcasm. She was a straightforward woman who appreciated critical thinking and a strong work ethic, and she was well-loved and respected by her vampires.
“Thank you. Any news from Paris?”
“The day passed peacefully, and I am grateful. Given the Masters who create the violence are here in the city of your birth, I hope we have not passed our problems on to you.”
“I hope so, too. But even if so, Chicago is skilled at handling ornery supernaturals.”
A corner of her mouth lifted into a careful and conservative smile. “So it seems.” She gestured to the dining room. “Shall we break our fast?”
Odette and the rest of the vampires were already in the large dining room, sipping coffee at the table or putting plump fruit onto trays.
I took a croissant and poured myself some coffee, added cream and sugar, and took a seat beside Seri. When all the vampires had assembled their breakfasts, Marion tapped her water glass. The vampires turned their heads toward her in syncopation, like birds changing direction.
“Good evening,” she said, when she had their attention. Her voice was soft and smoky, like a torch singer from another era. “I wanted us to have an opportunity to commune before the event.”
She looked at us, then at the city silhouetted through thewindow, the blinking top of the Willis Tower, shining red for the occasion.
“Much trouble has been made to assemble us here. Cost. Time. Compromise. But we are an old people, and we are stubborn. We fear change, and we fear those different from us, even as we seek to live among them.
“But there is opportunity here.” She looked at me, nodded approvingly. “There is a chance to make a new way in Paris, in France, in Europe, in the world—to find the same peace that they’ve found in Chicago. There is a chance for cooperation—if we can move past our own self-interest, our own prejudices. So, let us take a moment of silence to prepare ourselves for negotiation and debate and finding the path forward.”
She nodded, and a hush fell across the room.
And in that quiet, hope rose.
• • •
The Sanford had been a theater with baroque style—vaulted ceilings, a golden dome, murals, and velvet drapes. It fell into disrepair, and was later saved by a very smart woman who realized that even if Chicago didn’t need another theater, there were never enough wedding venues. She stripped out the chairs and the middle balconies, cleaned up the paint and gilt, and turned the main floor into the city’s grandest ballroom.
Tonight, crystal chandeliers put a golden glow across the room, which was swagged with the banners of each vampire House participating in the talks. Tables had been politically arranged on the main floor, with a long, oval table in the middle, each seat marked with a placard. Behind it, another U of tables had been lifted by risers, so the delegates seated there had a clear view of the proceedings—or because those in the back row had complained their seats weren’t good enough.
The energy in the air was enough to ramp up my adrenaline.This was an important night. We’d gone through two security checks to get into the building, and the theater itself also had security. Guards stood at intervals along the wall—some who’d been brought by the delegates as security or escorts, and others who’d volunteered from Chicago’s Houses and the Pack.
Dearborn wasn’t here tonight, probably because there wasn’t a photo opportunity. Cameras weren’t allowed inside, and the mayor wouldn’t attend the talks, so he’d probably moved on to greener pastures.
I didn’t recognize many of the vampires or shifters, but found Connor on the opposite side of the room. He wore a black suit tonight that was perfectly cut to showcase his broad shoulders, narrow waist. Connor and I might not have had much in common, but I could admit he cut a powerful figure.
It was the first time I’d seen him looking so serious and focused. While his posture said he was relaxed—shoulders back, hands in his pockets—there was no mistaking the careful attention in his eyes as his gaze slowly slid across the room, back and forth, looking for threats.
He had grown up, and I was having trouble reconciling that with the cocky child who’d stolen my toy sword.
Connor’s gaze lifted, met mine, and held. And there was as much power in the look as there was in his physical presence. There was strength in his gaze, like it had its own mass, its own weight. It was intense to be stared at with eyes so blazingly blue.
I wasn’t used to a look from Connor having that much impact.
But before I could think too much about it, magic began to beat like a drum, like the warning of an army miles away. Except the pounding was in my chest—and it was growing louder.
The monster was reaching out again, and I understood immediately why it had awakened. Why it had stretched. This time, it wasn’t for the city, but for the blade.
For my mother’s katana.
She stood across the room in a dark suit, a white shirt beneath, her crimson scabbard belted to her waist.
I hadn’t even considered that my mother would bring the sword here tonight. But of course she would. She’d be acting as host, along with my father. And as Sentinel, on behalf of his House.
My heart began to hammer in my chest. Not in fear, but in anticipation. In dread.
Her sword held the Egregore, the creature Sorcha had cobbled together from alchemy and the cast-off emotions of Chicago’s citizens. When Sorcha manifested the creature into a dragon, my mother had the responsibility of bringing it down. Mallory had created the spell to bind the Egregore to my mother’s sword, to confine the magic again. But the spell worked better than anyone had intended; it bound me to my mother.... And that wasn’t the only thing.
