Biting Cold: A Chicagoland Vampires Novel (CHICAGOLAND VAMPIRES SERIES)

a man to this House who rationed blood, who sent our vampires into the sun, who stripped us of our protections. Are those the acts of an entity that supports us? That protects us? Or are those the actions of an entity that tests us and provokes us? The world is different than it was a hundred years ago, and it is worthwhile to seriously consider whether membership is, as they say, worth the privilege.”
    He looked across the sea of vampires. “To excommunicate a House is a profound action. Not being affiliated with the GP would not be an easy course. There is a stigma, of course, and the concern we lack protection if we are not affiliated. But this House is financially secure and would be able to maintain itself without the GP. It has connections throughout this city, including Merit’s grandfather, the Apex of the North American Central Pack, water nymphs, fairies, the Lake Michigan siren, and potentially the Queen of the Fae. My friends, my brothers, my sisters, I am not afraid .”
    He stood up again, walked to the edge of the platform, and lifted up a small box that had been placed there. There was a slit in the top, just wide enough for a piece of paper or two.
    It was a ballot box.
    “We are not colonials of the British Empire. We are citizens of these United States, and our ways are different. I say we make our own decision. We can wait for a formal excommunication to be handed down tomorrow. Or we can act tonight. We can leave the GP on our own terms. We can establish a new kind of vampire organization which recognizes our contemporary needs.”
    He put the box down again and slipped his hands into his pockets. He must have had doubts about leaving the GP, but you’d never have known it to look at him.
    “All I ask is that you vote your consciences,” he said. “If you do that, whatever the outcome, I will support it. I will be proud of it.” He nodded once. “You are dismissed.”
    The vampires filed out of the room again, and the chatter started immediately.
    “What are you going to do?”
    “Is this completely crazy?”
    Their doubts were loud, but at the same time there was a bit of nervously hopeful energy. I guessed these weren’t the types of decisions Novitiates were usually allowed to make.
    When the room was mostly clear, Ethan stepped down from the platform and walked to me, hand extended. I took it.
    “What do you think they’ll do?” I asked.
    “It hardly matters,” he said. “The decision isn’t important. The action is. Either we recommit to the GP and beg for their forgiveness, or we reject their authority on terms of our own. These are exciting times, Sentinel.”
    Hand in hand, we walked to the ballroom door. “By exciting, do you mean moderately terrifying?”
    “I wasn’t going to use those words, but if the shoe fits . . .”
    “ Que será, será ,” I said. “Now, let’s go kill an angel.”
    Okay, that had sounded a lot better in my head.
    We assembled in the Ops Room: the messenger, the sorceress, the vampires. And on the phone, a sorcerer, another sorceress, and a shifter.
    We hardly fit around the conference table, but that wasn’t the important part. We were a team, working together to solve a problem, even if Darius would have preferred we simply let the world spin around us.
    We were also working the low-tech way. Instead of whiteboards or touch screens, we’d placed giant sheets of white paper in the middle of the table, and everyone had a permanent marker.
    “So,” Luc said, “we know the actual battle goes down with a sword. That’s Ethan’s job.” He pointed at Ethan with his marker, then wrote sword on one end of the page.
    “And on the other end,” Lindsey said, “is actually getting Dominic to the battle spot. That’s where the summoning comes in.” She wrote summoning on the other end of the page.
    “That process is relatively straightforward,” Seth said, putting the sigil on the table. “The sigil is like a phone number for an angel of justice. We draw the sigil, and Dominic must appear.”
    “Does that work for you, too?” I asked.
    Seth shook his head. “In fact, it’s entirely new to me. According to our research, only angels of justice were assigned sigils. It was a check on their power, created by archangels who apparently believed there was a risk the angels of justice would act beyond their authority.”
    “Which is precisely what they did,” Ethan darkly said.
    Seth nodded.
    “Okay, then,” Luc said. “We have