"Keys?"
"The divisions of power. Of magic," he added at my blank stare. "But because I made the Order's shit list" - he pointed down at the words on his T-shirt - "I've been excommunicated."
"The Order? Is that a church?"
"More like a union. I was a member."
Although I understood the words he used, I had no context in which to place anything he'd said, so none of it made sense. (I needed a guidebook. A big, thick, illustrated, tabbed, and indexed guidebook to the sups of Chicago. Did they make those?) But the part about his being excommunicated was clear enough, so I focused there. "You're a magical rogue?"
He shrugged. "Close enough. Back to you. I'll train you."
"Why?" I looked back at the building, then flicked him a suspicious glance. "You can shoot blue lightning from your hands, but you're working in a run-down building on the South Side with my grandfather. Training me will take time away from your work" - I pointed at his T-shirt - "and whatever other supernatural business you've got going on. Besides, isn't that the vamps' job?"
"Sullivan will clear it."
"Why?"
"Because he will, Nosy. Weapons, objects of power, are the second Key. That's my bag, my specialty, and Sullivan knows it."
"And why do you care who trains me?"
Catcher looked at me for a long time, long enough that crickets began to chirp around us. "Partly because Chuck asked me to. And partly because you have something of mine. And the time will come when it's up to you to protect it. I need to know you'll be ready for that."
I took my own pause. "Are you serious?"
"Very."
I stuffed my hands into my pockets, tilted my head at him. "What am I protecting?"
Catcher just shook his head. "Not the time for that."
It was "not time" for all the good stuff, I thought as my cab turned onto the block and stopped at the curb before us.
"Tomorrow at eight thirty," Catcher said, then gave me an address I guessed was in River North. I walked toward the waiting cab and opened the back door.
"Merit."
I glanced back.
"She needs training, and a lot of it. The last thing I need is another misguided neophyte screwing around with the lesser Keys."
Sullivan had definitely made a call about Mallory. "How do you know that?" I asked him.
Catcher snorted. "Knowing things is what I do."
"Well, then, you know she's not taking the news well. Maybe you should give her a call. What with the fangs and serial killer, I'm full up on supernatural drama at the moment."
He grinned at me, white teeth flashing. "Babe, you're a vampire. Deal with it."
Mallory was asleep when I got home, tucked safely into bed. And why wouldn't she be safe with a pair of armed guards outside? I headed straight for the fridge. The bags of blood still held no appeal, so I grabbed an apple and munched at the kitchen counter, flipping through the day's paper. The front page featured a picture of Mayor Tate, tall and darkly handsome, under the headline Mayor Announces New Anticrime Measures.
I snorted, wondering what the readership would think if they understood the anticrime measures being employed in a small brick building on the South Side.
After flipping through the paper, I checked the clock. It was two a.m., hours before sleep would pull me under. I was debating a hot bath when a knock sounded at the door. I headed to the living room, chucking the apple core on the way, and checked the peephole. The nose and hair were distorted by the angle, but there was no mistaking a blond, pissed-off vampire in black Armani. I flipped the locks and pulled the door open.
"Good evening, Ethan."
His gaze immediately dropped to the ninja print across my chest. I got an arched brow for the fashion choice - at least, that was how I chose to interpret the disdain - before he raised flame green eyes to mine.
"You think to bring down my House by spying on us?"
Anticipating Fight Number Two, I sighed but invited him in.
CHAPTER FIVE
JUST A QUICK BITE
Sullivan walked in, followed by Luc and Ethan's redheaded consort from the sparring room. Since I hadn't officially met Ethan's flame, I stuck out my hand as she sauntered through the front door in hip-high leather pants and a pale blue tank she'd unfairly burdened with the task of holding up her pendulous br**sts.
"Merit," I said.
She looked at my hand and ignored it. "Amber," she said before turning away.
"Nice to meet you," I muttered and shadowed the trio to the living room. I found Ethan standing, while his pretty vampire accoutrements fanned out on the sofa.
"Merit."
Playing it safe, I opted for the honorific. "Liege."
He arched an eyebrow. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it again, trying unsuccessfully to figure out what I'd done. "Why don't you go first?"
There was a two-part groan from the couch.
Ethan planted his hands on his hips, sweeping back the sides of his suit jacket in the process. "You've been to see the Ombud."
"I went to see my grandfather."
"I warned you yesterday - about your role, your place - and I thought we'd agreed that you weren't going to challenge my authority. Agreeing to spy on the House, to betray my House, clearly falls into the 'challenging my authority' category." He stared down at me. A moment passed as I tried to wrap my mind around the accusation.
His nostrils flared. "I'm waiting, Merit."
The tone was condescending. Patronizing. Profoundly irritating. And from what I'd seen so far, typical Sullivan. I tried to be the bigger person and explained, "I haven't agreed to spy on anyone, and I resent the implication. You may not like me, Sullivan, but I'm no traitor. I've done nothing that justifies the accusation."
This time, he blinked. "But you admit you were at the office?"
"My grandfather," I carefully began, controlling my voice to keep from screaming at him, "took me to his office to meet his staff, to tell me about Chicago's other supernaturals. I didn't agree to spy on anyone or to betray anyone. And how could I? I've been a vampire for three days, and I'm willing to admit that I'm still pretty ignorant."
Amber humphed. "She has a point, Liege."
I gave him credit - he kept his eyes on me. I got a long look before he spoke again. "You don't deny that you went to the Ombud's office?"
I grappled to discover the logic underlying the questions, found nothing. "Sullivan, you're going to have to help me here, because, contrary to the information you've been given, I haven't agreed to do anything for the Ombud's office. I went there to learn, to visit, not to get an assignment. I haven't agreed to spy, to sneak notes, to give updates, anything." I narrowed my gaze and crossed my arms. "And I don't see what's wrong with visiting my grandfather at his office."