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

contrary,” he muttered, and I punched him—deservedly—in the arm.
    Since we seemed to be on relatively solid footing again, I delved into the other crisis.
    “How were your meetings with Darius?”
    “Full of numbers,” he said. “Ours is the second-strongest House in the country. Navarre is first, possibly because Celina wasn’t entirely conscionable in her selection of investments. Our funds are well diversified, our debt-to-income ratio is low, and our credit rating is high.”
    He splashed water on his face, then tamped it dry with a towel. “We are in good financial shape.”
    I leaned against the doorjamb. “Why do I have a sense Darius couldn’t care less about our financial shape?”
    Ethan pushed his hair behind his ears and gestured toward the bedroom. He followed me out, then turned off the light behind us.
    “Because the majority of the American Houses are superbly good at managing their finances. If he wishes to rearrange the American system, that’s not the best point of contention.”
    I sat down on the bed and pulled a pillow to my chest.
    Ethan flipped off the bedroom lights, leaving us in momentary darkness until our eyes adjusted. I slung the pillow behind me and pressed into his body.
    “Darius talked to me,” I said.
    “Did he now? What did he have to say?”
    “He’s confident any and all crises in Chicago are our fault.”
    “So par for the course, then.”
    “In that respect.” I hesitated to add more, but Ethan pressed on.
    “Tell me the rest, Sentinel.”
    “He isn’t sure who you are. I think his meeting with me was just to get dirt on you. He’s not thrilled with our relationship, halted or otherwise, but he wanted to know more about you. About your weaknesses. About whether you’d changed after Mallory brought you back.”
    “What did you tell him?”
    “That you are who you are . . . and you’re too stubborn to be anyone different. I think he’s afraid of you. Not for who you are, but for what you might do if the House is excommunicated.”
    “We will find out soon enough.”
    “That sounds ominous.”
    Ethan nodded. “He’s called a House meeting: tomorrow at midnight. If you’d stayed in your room, you’d find a note to that effect on your door tomorrow evening.”
    “You wouldn’t let me stay in my room.”
    “No, Sentinel, I would not. For now, let us sleep. We will undoubtedly face new dangers tomorrow.”
    That seemed undeniable, but for now, I had his body to protect me.
    Some hours later, we woke to a pounding on the door.
    “That better be breakfast,” I said.
    “Margot is rarely so loud, and I am hardly dressed. Perhaps you better answer the door.”
    I flipped off the blankets and sheets and, as the knocking sounded louder, jogged to the door and pulled it open.
    Juliet stood at the door, a furious expression on her face, and I could hear yelling downstairs. “It’s a raid—the cops think Dominic is here.”
    Dominic wasn’t, but I’d have bet his twin brother still was, and I didn’t think Mayor Kowalcyzk or her storm troopers would much care about the difference.
    Think fast , I told myself.
    “Seth has wings,” I said, “and I know he can fly. Get him to the widow’s walk. We’ll be down in a minute.”
    When I shut the door, Ethan was already up and behind me. “What is it?”
    “If you had any plans to vote for Mayor Kowalcyzk, you might want to rethink those.”

C HAPTER T WENTY

    THE FAIRY TALE
    W e hurried into clothes and ran down the stairs. Cops in black shirts and cargo pants with yellow special unit designations on their backs were tearing through the first floor of the House. The yard was littered with paper and other objects, as the cops had already overturned furniture and flipped open drawers, as if the secrets of the city’s sups were hidden away in a notebook in a foyer drawer.
    The leader appeared to be a woman in a black pantsuit. She was tall and slender, with dark skin and darker hair pulled into a bun so tight it stretched the corners of her eyes. She might have been attractive if her face hadn’t been pinched into an “Aha, I caught you!” expression.
    “Lieutenant Tamara Hays,” she said, flipping out a wallet-style badge for Ethan’s inspection and then shoving it back into her pocket.
    “We have reason to believe you are harboring a fugitive,” she said. “Mayor Seth Tate. He’s wanted in connection with a series of murders.”
    The city might have known supernaturals were out of