I stood up and looked around. Morgan might not be wil ing to act, but Ethan had taught me better. Even if I had to go it alone, I wasn't going to stand by and let someone else do my job for me.
I walked around the hil of dirt and got back to work.
The earth stopped rumbling, but there were dozens of cars overturned or abandoned and innumerable tons of earth in the middle of Wrigleyvil e. The architectural damage wasn't extensive, but the roads and sidewalks in four blocks of Wrigleyvil e were beat to hel . And it wasn't the only one; there were pockets of damagekett the in neighborhoods across the city.
Thankful y, I hadn't heard of any fatalities, but the injuries and damage to cars, roads, and property were going to be bad enough for us. I was filthy, cold, and as the scope of the destruction - and the possibility of severe consequences for vampires - became clear, I grew wearier.
This wasn't our fault. There was no evidence vampires had any role in what had gone on in Wrigleyvil e. But I hadn't been able to stop it, and that weight sat heavily on my shoulders and in my gut. I'd investigated and interviewed, hypothesized and theorized . . . and I'd come up empty-handed. Tate knew too much for me to dismiss his involvement, even if I wasn't entirely sure what that was.
And while I thought Simon was the key to the Maleficium, I couldn't get close enough to him to find out.
That was going to have to change.
I needed a little bit of time and space from the chaos, so I walked up the street a few blocks until the sounds and smel s of new, damp earth began to fade.
I reached the barricades the CPD had established at the edge of the destruction, and was ruing the fact that my grandfather could no longer show up at these events in an official capacity, when I stopped short.
A few feet away from the barricade, my father stood on the sidewalk beneath a streetlight in dress pants, a button-up shirt, and a MERIT PROPERTIES windbreaker. He was supervising two men who were unloading plastic-wrapped packs of water bottles onto the sidewalk, where a woman I recognized as an admin in my father's office handed them out.
I walked toward them, and waited until the workers left my father alone. "What are you doing here?"
"Public service," he said. "The office is just up the road, and we happened to have the truck ready for a conference at a building in Napervil e. We decided it could be put to a better use, so we hurried down here."
The reason might have been legitimate, but I stil questioned his motives. I couldn't help it; my father brought out the worst in me. I'd always been a stranger where my family was concerned, and the business with Ethan hadn't helped. My father thought he'd been doing me a favor -
gifting me with an immortality I hadn't asked for - but that didn't make it any less of a violation.
He gestured behind me, and I glanced back. Dusty and scraped men and women stood or sat on curbs nearby sipping water.
"This was a nice thought," I said. "But you can't use bridges that were burned a long time ago."
He used a box cutter to slice through the plastic wrap on a new bundle of bottles and passed one over to me. "That's the difference between you and me: I refuse to believe bridges were burned. Every moment is a new opportunity."
I accepted the bottle of water, and let that stand in for any additional thanks. I walked across the street to the curb and sat down, my muscles aching from the work.
I'd taken a single sip when Jonah sat down beside me.
He looked as filthy as I did, streaks of mud and dirt on his jeans and T-shirt.
"Everything okay at Grey House?" I asked.
"Yeah. The damage didn't extend that far." He scanned the street, eyes narrowing when he saw the truck. "Did your father suddenly become charitable?"
"Not without an ulterior motive. A suggestion?d onggen he sa
Jonah took the bottle of water from me and took a long drink. "What's that?"
"While you're busy having my back, don't be surprised when family members are there to stab me in it."
"That's what partners are for," he assured. "Wel , that, and getting you out of Dodge when things get dicey." He gestured toward some humans on the other side of the street who were beginning to look at us askew. Maybe they recognized us as vampires, maybe they didn't. Either way, they weren't thril ed about the destruction in their neighborhood, and it looked like they were looking for someone to blame.
"We'l go to Grey House," he said, a hand at my elbow to help me up. "We'l convene there and we'l make a plan and we'l get this thing figured out."
"You think it wil be that easy?"
"Not even close," he said. "But it's RG rule number one: Make a plan."
I guess a plan was better than nothing.
Scott Grey's vampires were taking shifts assisting in the aftermath of the destruction, and he'd set up food and aid stations in the House's open atrium for any vampires in the vicinity who needed a break. He also gave me a quiet spot to give Catcher a cal .
"How are things up north?" he asked.
"Pretty bad," I admitted, and gave him the lay of the land .
. . and the magic. "It looks like Claudia was right and we're looking at elemental magic. Water. Air - "
"And now earth," Catcher finished.
"Yeah. I didn't see any hint this time that Tate was involved, but his magical imbalance theory is looking more plausible. And if he's right, that means someone has the Maleficium. I want to talk to Simon."
"And your suggestion for getting past Order bitchiness?"
"Remind them the world might be ending? Tel them we think the Maleficium is at work. Have my grandfather cal them, or tel them the former mayor - who may or may not be some kind of ancient magical being - may or may not be trying to herald in a new era of evil. Tel them whatever you want. But make them understand."
He murmured something about women and hormones, but when he hung up the phone, I decided I'd made my point.
Jonah stepped into the doorway. "Find anything out?"
"That goddamned bureaucracies are kil ing me this week. Catcher's giving me trouble about setting up a meeting with Simon."
"We could probably try Tate again, too."
I didn't want to do that, but I was running out of options.
I spent a few minutes giving Keley and Malik an update, and got the text just as I'd finished: SIMON. ONE HOUR.
JENKINS SUPPLY CO.
"Jenkins Supply Company?" Jonah asked when I showed him the message. "What's that?"
"I have no clue," I answered, tucking the phone away again. "Let's go find out."