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“No,” I said. “They don’t seem like the teamwork or manual labor types.”
The sound of breaking glass echoed from somewhere in the crowd. “We need to get this contained,” Padwicky said, “before it spreads or becomes a full-on riot, or someone ends up dead.”
***
I didn’t see any sign of Connor, and I didn’t get a response to my messages to him. So we were going to have to start without him.
The street the shifters had picked for their near riot was bounded by town houses on both sides, and the crowd flowed nearly to the fronts of those buildings. We sent CPD officers into the crowd to thin it out at the edges and locate any shifters or humans who needed help. Theo and I would work our way to the front the only way possible—through the morass of shifters who were busy hiding their fear with booze and screaming.
But they didn’t want to stop the party; they didn’t even want to move aside as we tried to press through them, and I knew I’d have bruises tomorrow. Instead of cooperation, there was plenty of booze, plenty of anger, and more than a few shouted conspiracy theories and insults. A few knives strapped to belts, but no larger weapons that I could see.
“Fucking asshole cops,” a big man murmured.
“We aren’t cops. We’re Ombuds,” Theo said. “Here to serve and assist supernaturals. And I’m feeling real good about that career decision right now.”
Someone threw out an elbow toward me, and I instinctively grabbed it, twisted it away. “Hands to yourself,” I said to the responding shout before letting him go and moving forward again.
They’d put a table on the sidewalk in front of the building, which Cade, Breonna, and the other one—Joe—had mounted to spread their particular gospel.
“We don’t really know where he is or what they’ve done with him!” Cade was saying with the thrill of conspiracy in his eyes.
With an electric screech, someone pulled the plug on the amps they’d set up, and the microphone went silent. A cop directed the interlopers off the table.
“Oops,” Theo said as a cop who’d come through the building to meet us handed him a bullhorn.
“Party’s over,” Theo said, stepping onto the table and holding up his bullhorn with his non-casted hand. “Disperse. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”
“First Amendment, asshole,” someone called out. “We have rights to say what we want.”
“Yeah, but not to say them loudly in the middle of the night while your neighbors are sleeping. There’s a noise ordinance.”
“Fucking cops,” someone called out.
“This is a vendetta!” someone said. “You’ve got it in for the Pack! That’s why our Apex was disappeared!”
Someone in the crowd threw a punch, nailed another shifter. That started a scramble that rippled through the crowd like a pebble thrown into a stream.
“Cut out the fighting!” Theo said. “Or you’ll be spending the night in lockup, and that’s no way to party.”
The roar of a bike and the squeal of brakes cut through the crowd. I felt his magic before I saw him; Connor stalked toward us with fury in his eyes and magic in his wake. He glanced at me, nodded, then walked up to Cade, met him toe to toe.
“Give them room,” I said to the officers who moved toward us. “And work on getting the crowd dispersed.”
But Connor’s focus was on Cade. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Pack has a right to speak its mind,” Cade said with an arrogant drawl.
“The Pack will end up behind bars because you’re itching for a fight.”
“Do they look like I forced them to be out here?” He nudged close. “Your daddy’s gone, friend. And all these people want to know exactly what happened.” His gaze skimmed to mine. “And how the vampires were involved.”
“You’re spreading lies.”
“I’m asking questions.”
I watched Connor wrestle for control. “There’s a goddamned demon running loose through Chicago. She is the Pack’s enemy.”
“The Pack decides who its enemy is. And who its leader is.”
