Unmitigated fury flashed through me. McKetrick bore his scars because he was a killer with a vendetta against vampires. He'd done those injuries to himself - quite literally. I'd been the intended victim of his misanthropy.
McKetrick smiled at the mayor and replaced her at the podium. "The city is not what it seems. We live in a world of light and sun. But at night a darker element emerges. For now, we are still in control of this city, but if we are not vigilant, if we do not stand tall and strong, we will become the minority in our own town."
I gaped at the prejudice McKetrick had apparently been hired by the mayor to spew on supernaturals. Was this what public discourse was coming to?
"This administration aims to shine the light on Chicago. That's my job: to protect humans from supernaturals' whims and to ensure this city continues to be, not the Second City, but the best city in the world."
There was a smattering of polite, probably scripted applause until Luc turned off the video.
"That guy," Lindsey said, "is a douche. Asterisk, I hate him. Footnote, he can suck it."
"We got it, hon," Luc said, not unkindly. "Although I don't disagree with the sentiment. And, man, I do not want to tell Ethan."
"As if he needs anything else to worry about right now," I said, my heart aching for him. "Now he has a fearmonger with a title. We'd better hope McKetrick didn't kill Oliver and Eve, because if he did, the mayor just appointed a killer to her cabinet."
Whether she did or didn't, the wood slivers still implicated him and had to be investigated.
"Once I've talked to Ethan, I'll advise the other guard captains," Luc said. He swore out a curse. "And John Q. McKetrick? As in 'John Q. Public'? How does she not know that's not his real name? It's obviously fake."
"Because she's ignorant," I said. "She'd have to be in order to believe giving this guy power was a good idea."
My phone buzzed with a message, and I plucked it up. It was from Jeff. DET. JACOBS SAYS NO PRINTS OR OTHER MATERIALS ON EVE'S PHONE, it said. BUT WOOD WAS ASPEN.
That was all the information I needed. I stood up and headed for the door.
"And where are you going?" Luc asked.
I glanced back at him, fire in my eyes. "Two vampires are dead, and the crime has McKetrick's stamp on it. Since I now know how to find Mr. McKetrick, whatever his first name, I think it's time we had a little chat."
* * *
It was late, nearly midnight, and most city offices would be empty. But McKetrick had been assigned to the supernatural beat, and since most sups were nocturnal, I figured the odds were in my favor that he'd still be around.
Besides, I suspected the man of murder; I wasn't going to visit him at home or at the "facility" we'd once heard he operated. The city's administration might not have been huge fans of vampires, but an office visit seemed much safer than the alternative.
I found his number on the Web, then picked a quiet spot on the first floor and dialed him up.
"John McKetrick."
"It's Merit. I hear you've been promoted."
There was a pause, although I'd have sworn I heard the quickened beating of his heart. "So I have," he finally said. "What can I do for you, Merit?"
"I thought we might meet. Maybe you could give me a tour of your office?" And, I silently thought, explain to me exactly why you decided killing innocent vampires was justifiable?
He hesitated for a moment, perhaps considering the outcome of our last encounter - when he'd walked away with scars. But he must have decided the risk was worth it.
"What a good idea," he said, and his tone sounded like it. That wasn't exactly comforting, but I didn't think he'd hurt me in his office, not this soon into his job. He didn't have the political capital yet to kill a vampire in the Daley Center.
Or so I hoped.
"I can be there in half an hour," I guessed.
"I'll let security know you're on your way. And, Merit? I look forward to seeing you."
The man made my skin crawl. And even though I didn't think he'd commit vampiricide in his office, I texted Jonah to let him know where I was headed, and then Jeff. Just in case.
I paused for a second, glancing at Ethan's office. Luc knew where I was going, so I didn't have to tell Ethan about my plan. Which was good, because I didn't think he'd approve of a late-night trip to visit our primary political enemy on his home turf.
This was one of those situations in which it was better to forge ahead and seek forgiveness later than get permission in the first place.
Sometimes being an underling meant managing up.
* * *
I drove downtown and found a parking spot on a side street. The Loop was dark and quiet, most of the neighborhood's business traffic having gone home for the night - probably on the El back to the suburbs - hours ago. Anticipating guards and metal detectors, I left my sword and dagger in the car.
Outside the building I looked up, and my nerves kicked into overdrive. The Daley Center was an intimidating building - a huge Federal-style structure marked by columns that ran halfway up the building like a stone crown.
"Come here often?"
My heart skipped a beat at the break in the silence, until I looked beside me at the man who'd made it. It was Jeff, hands in his pockets and a rather large grin on his face.
"What are you doing here?"
He shrugged. "I decided you needed backup."
Jeff was a shape-shifter and undoubtedly strong; I'd seen him fight, although I'd never actually seen him shift. Not that I was hoping for a zoological throwdown between Jeff and McKetrick inside the Daley Center.
We walked around the building to the plaza alongside it, where an enormous sculpture by Picasso stared out into the night. The steel glowed rust-red in the spotlights, and arced into the sky like a robotic insect. Behind it stood three huge flagpoles that had already been stripped of their canvas for the evening.
As we walked across the plaza, I felt suddenly small: a single impotent vampire in the midst of a human empire that wasn't much concerned about my survival.
"You're okay?" Jeff asked.
I nodded. "I'm fine. Just nervous."
"I can go up with you, if you want."
I shook my head. "It's better if you stay here. I don't want him to feel like he's been cornered, and I don't want to put you in his line of fire. I'll be fine. It's just the anticipation. I'm sure my gumption will kick in once I get to his office." It had better, because McKetrick had things to answer for, and this wasn't the time to be a shrinking violet.
Nerves on edge, we walked into the marbled main lobby, past the various homages to Richard Daley and toward the security desk. A man and woman with tidy hair and wearing security ensembles looked up.