Catcher whistled. "Since our office has been official y disbanded, we aren't exactly on the approved visitors list for the secret facility holding our ex-mayor. We may be able to pul some strings, but that'l take time."
"Do what you can. I'm getting nowhere fast." Although there was one group I could look into. "I know this question is going to hurt, but I need an answer regardless. What about the Order?" I gnawed my lip in anticipation of a snarky response. But that's not what I got back. Catcher had changed his tune.
"I've been racking my brain," he said, and I could hear that in the hoarse exhaustion in his voice. "But I can't come up with any way they're involved. I just don't know what advantage they'd see in doing this. They may be na?ve, but they aren't evil."
"What about Simon?"
"I don't know how Simon spends his days, Merit, other than monopolizing almost al of Mal ory's time and every ounce of her mental energy. She seems to be the number one focus of his attention. Besides, he's king of the city right now. Why cause trouble?"
"I had the same thought."
"Keep your people calm and off Simon's radar. He may seem mild-mannered, but he's stil a ful y trained member of the Order, and vampire interference wil only piss him off.
Let me look into it."
"I'l stal ," I warned,,ed member "but Frank's antsy, and you know the kind of pressure he's putting on Malik.
Humans are freaking out, and the National Guard is on its way to Cadogan House. Whoever is involved in this, we need evidence, and we need it fast."
"I'l handle it. Where are you anyway?"
I decided not to tel him I was hunched in a bus stop on State Street because I didn't have any better ideas. "I'm playing Sentinel," I told him. "Give me a cal as soon as you have something."
Catcher grunted his agreement, and the phone went dead. I tucked it away again and looked out into the night.
Noise began to rol down the street as a parade of humans dressed in white clothes walked toward me. They carried white poster board signs announcing the apocalypse and recommending
Bible passages for immediate consideration. The warnings were scrawled in bloodred paint, drips marking the edges of the letters. They'd painted the signs in a hurry, frantic to make a difference before it was too late.
"Before vampires destroy the world," I quietly muttered.
The humans might be right about the end of the world; that wasn't exactly information I was privy to. But I was pretty confident they'd have more than words for me if they caught me out here alone, so I hunkered back into the corner and watched as they passed, a Greek chorus warning of the coming tragedy.
A few minutes later they disappeared from view and the street was quiet again. I stood up and stretched my legs, but just as I prepared to leave the bus stop, a streak of white lightning shot across the sky and rain began to pour down in heavy sheets.
"Of course it would rain," I muttered.
I stood in the doorway of the bus stop for another few moments, rain splashing onto my boots, waiting for a break in the downpour and wishing, once again, that Ethan had been here with me. He'd know what to do, have some plan of attack in mind.
I knew this burden was mine to bear; I just hoped I had the brawn to carry it and the brains to figure it out.
As quickly as it had begun, the rain slowed and stopped.
As I stepped onto the street, I caught scents of water and city and sulfur, but there was something else: the smel s of lemon and sugar, the same scents I'd caught around Tate.
Claudia thought the magic was old, and now the rain smel ed like Tate? That couldn't just be coincidence.
Dawn was approaching, but I knew exactly where I needed to go tomorrow night. Hopeful y my grandfather's name stil carried some cachet, and they'd be able to get me in to see Tate again.
Stil afraid of the lightning, I sprinted back to my car, my skin buzzing from the ozone in the air. I'd only managed to put the key in the lock when the barrel of a gun was pushed against my cheek.
"Helo, Merit," McKetrick said pleasantly. "Long time, no see."
CHAPTER TWELVE
HAPPINESS IS A WARM GUN
I looked down at the dark, cold steel now pointed at my chest. The weapon was longer and stockier than a handgun, closer in shape to a sawed-off shotgun with a single, wide barrel.
I glanced up. McKetrick smiled smugly. He was a handsome man, with short dark hair, sculpted ch,edh a sineekbones, and a body that wouldn't quit. His eyes were wide and exotic-looking, but his mouth was twisted with cruelty - and there was a new scar across his upper lip that hadn't been there the last time I'd seen him.
"Hands in the air, please," he pleasantly said.
For the second time in a night, I lifted my hands into the air. Ironic, wasn't it, that I'd left my sword in the car so I wouldn't scare off any humans? And here he was, pointing a gun at my chest.
"McKetrick," I said by way of greeting. "Could you move that gun, please?"
"When it's so effective at getting your attention? I don't think so. And in case you have any thought of taking a shot for the good of the cause, we're using a new variety of bul et. Something a little less iron-and-steel. Something a bit woodier. A new process that combines the shock of a bul et with the chemical reaction of aspen. It's proven very effective."
A chil ran through me. If he'd managed to turn aspen wood - the one thing that, shot through the heart of a vampire, would turn us to dust - into bul ets, and he knew it was "effective," how many vampires had died in the testing?
"Is that how you got the scar?" I wondered aloud.
His upper lip curled. "I am none of your concern."
"You are when you've got a gun pointed at me," I said, and mul ed my options. Trying to knock the gun from his hand with a wel -timed kick might be successful, but he was former military and undoubtedly skil ed at hand-to-hand.
Besides, the "might" carried a pretty high risk - that I'd take a sliver of aspen to the heart and end up a cone of ashes.
There was also a pretty solid chance he had minions waiting in the wings with similar weapons.
There'd been too much death lately, so I quickly decided playing martyr wasn't an option. Instead, I opted to gather what information I could.
"I'm surprised you're out tonight," I told him. "Shouldn't you be warning folks about the apocalypse? Or maybe hanging out with the mayor? We saw you at the press conference."
"She's a woman with a plan for the city."
"She's a moron who's easily manipulated."
He smiled. "Your words, not mine. Although she has certainly proved receptive to my position on vampires."