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

a sense we’d soon be finding out.
    We’d nearly reached the giant sliding door to the silo room when I spotted a glistening drop of crimson on the floor. The droplet was small, but the smell of fresh blood was undeniably pungent.
    I crouched down and dabbed it with a fingertip, then sniffed it delicately. Definitely blood, and spicy with magic. Whether Paige or Mallory I couldn’t tell, but that really wasn’t important. One of our sorceresses had shed blood.
    I stood up again and wiped my hand on my pants, then gestured toward the sliding door. Ethan pointed me toward the handle, then took point at the door, sword at the ready. When he nodded, I pulled.
    The door slid open, and Ethan slid inside. I followed. The room was empty and mostly dark. But the silo glowed from below, the spot where the Maleficium had been located.
    Ethan motioned me forward. Swallowing down a burst of fear that tightened my chest, I crept to the silo and peeked down.
    For the second time in a matter of weeks, the Maleficium was gone.
    But the drama had only just started. The building suddenly shook with a pulse of magic that screamed through the building. If we weren’t too late already, we were going to be in a minute.
    I didn’t waste any time.
    “Merit!” Ethan yelled, but I was already in the air and on my way into the missile shaft. I landed in a crouch on the pedestal the Maleficium had once rested on.
    In front of me, in a large circular room, were the enemies I’d sought. Mallory was hunched over the Maleficium , which was open on the ground. Tate stood between me and Mallory, and Paige lay injured on the ground beside him, bloody and unconscious. She wasn’t wearing her jacket or cap; Tate must have conned—or dragged—her out of the house.
    “Hello, Ballerina,” Tate said.
    Tonight he wore a dark suit over a dark shirt and tie. Death in a beautiful package, except that he, too, looked exhausted—worn out and gaunt, and not any better than Mallory did. Perhaps he wasn’t immune to the effects of black magic, either.
    “I suppose I could say I’m pleased you survived your trip, although that would probably sound hypocritical.”
    I heard footfalls behind me and knew Ethan had landed in the shaft.
    “And him as well,” Tate flatly said. “But that would just be dishonest.”
    “Move away from the book,” I told them, crouching a bit and readying for action.
    “You know I’m not going to do that.”
    Another pulse of magic lit through the room, the book its obvious origin point. The floor and walls shook with it.
    I’d be damned if I was going to end up crushed beneath the concrete and steel of a forty-year-old missile silo in Nebraska.
    “Ethan,” I said, “I’m going low.”
    “Then I’ve got high,” he said, stepping forward, sword outstretched.
    I stepped back, then ran full speed toward Tate. His eyes widened as I moved, but Ethan distracted him with a slash of his sword.
    I dropped to my knees and let the momentum push me along the slick, painted concrete floor to Mallory’s spot on the other side of the room.
    I popped back up again, leaving Ethan to deal with Tate, and pointed my sword at her.
    “This is the last time I will tell you this, witch. Back off!”
    She looked up from the Maleficium , her fingers bloody and hovering over the text, nothing but pain in her eyes.
    I might have been able to talk her out of anger or fear or exhaustion, but pain was its own kind of demon, and I wasn’t sure talking would have any effect.
    I heard the crack of flesh and bone and glanced back at Ethan. He’d gone the old-fashioned route and attempted to give Tate another right hook across the jaw, probably as a thank-you for the damage to his Mercedes.
    But this time, Tate knew the shot was coming, and he was fast enough to avoid it. He’d put out a hand to catch Ethan’s fist, and held him there for a moment, Ethan’s eyes wild.
    “I’d have thought my prior warnings would have had some effect.”
    “I’m a slow learner.”
    “I suppose wisdom doesn’t come with age, eh?” With barely a brush of Tate’s hand, Ethan flew across the room and landed against a steel support column.
    The column buckled and Ethan hit the ground.
    “Ethan!” My heart skipped a beat in the split second before he looked up at Tate. Blood ran down the side of his face from a gash on his head, and it took him much longer than usual to stand up again, but he did stand up.
    I started forward to go to him, but his eyes