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

they, or whatever , have any interest in taking him out?”
    “Revenge?” Malik offered.
    “But he worked for Tate,” I said. “And Tate handed Paulie over to the cops. There’s no revenge to be had.”
    Of course, there was also no theoretical revenge to be had against Paige, but that didn’t stop the Tates from burning down her house.
    Helen popped her tidy gray head into the doorway. “He’s here.”
    Ethan stood up and nodded. “We have to assume this is the first of many pleasantries the Tates intend to visit on Chicago.” He looked at me. “Talk to Luc and Kelley. Figure out what we don’t know and what their agendas might be.”
    His words and tone were wholly professional; there wasn’t even a hint in his manner that we had any connection to each other beyond our relationship as Sentinel and Master. Granted, we were discussing serious business and he had a meeting with Darius in the offing, but that didn’t stop the gnawing in my stomach.
    I nodded and walked into the hallway, closing the door behind me, then stood there for a moment, my head against the wall. Our relationship moved like an awkward and ill-timed dance—forever one step forward, two steps back. But for now, Paulie had to be my first and only concern. So I put Ethan out of my mind and headed for the stairs again.
    Each of Chicago’s three vampire Houses had a team of guards whose job was to keep the House—and its vampires—safe. As Sentinel, I wasn’t technically a guard, but since our guards were shorthanded, I was helping out. Each set of guards had a captain and an HQ.
    Our HQ was tucked into the basement of Cadogan House, appropriately near the training room and arsenal, and was outfitted with top-of-the-line electronic whoosits and goodies. Touch-screen panels, wall-mounted screens. Only the best technology for the keepers of Cadogan’s safety.
    Unfortunately, all the ’lectrics in the world wouldn’t rid Luc, the former guard captain, or Kelley, the current guard captain, of their love of paper. They still stuffed our file folders with handouts every day—reports on House activities called the “Dailies,” and any other bits of ephemera they thought we needed to know.
    And Luc wasn’t even our captain anymore. He was House Second and would presumably stay in that position until Ethan held the reins of the House again. Assuming Ethan would . . .
    I walked into the Ops Room and found Luc and Kelley staring up at the image of poor deceased Paulie. Juliet sat at one of the computer monitors, her gaze on the closed-circuit cameras around the House and grounds. Lindsey must have been out on patrol.
    “Pretty sight, isn’t it?” I asked, taking a seat across from them at the conference table.
    Luc made a snort and crossed his hands over his button-up chambray shirt. “So, you made it back from Nebraska in one piece.”
    There was a bowl of chocolates on the middle of the table. I leaned over and grabbed a piece. I’d earned it.
    “I did,” I agreed. “You would have liked it. There were farms and cows galore.”
    Luc still had the look of a cowboy just off the range, but at least he was dressed again. My retinas were still burning from my earlier interruption.
    “My ranch days are over,” Luc said.
    “I thought your guard days were over, too.”
    Kelley snickered. “His excuse is that there are more than enough suits upstairs.”
    Luc grabbed his own piece of chocolate after carefully rummaging through the bowl for some select piece. “Ethan and Malik are both quite capable of serving as second of this House. They have plenty of years under their belts.”
    It was hard to imagine Ethan as anything other than head of the House, which made the current arrangement awkward at best.
    “What was Ethan like as Peter Cadogan’s second?” I wondered.
    “Particular,” Kelley said. “An avid learner, but usually convinced he was right. He respected Peter, but he chafed at the bit. He was eager for his own command.”
    “That was before my time,” Luc said, “but it matches what I’ve heard.” He sat up straight and pulled his chair closer to the table. “And now that we’ve reminisced, why don’t we get down to business?”
    “I presume Ethan filled you in about Tate?” I asked.
    “He did. We have one more Tate and one fewer Tate accomplice.” Luc tapped the screen and zeroed in on Paulie’s injuries.
    “Paulie was forty-two years old,” he said. “He was killed while he was being transported