Biting Bad_ A Chicagoland Vampires Novel(18)

Gabriel’s expression softened. “It’s a life where she doesn’t destroy anyone else, including herself. She knew, even while she was crossing the boundaries between good and evil, that what she was doing was wrong. She knew the same thing tonight—that she shouldn’t have used her magic to threaten a human you could have easily handled.”

“Then when can she use it on her own terms?”

“I don’t know. She has to be able to control herself before she can control the magic. That’s her journey, and it’s not gonna be a quick one. When she can use her magic and be at peace with it, she’ll be getting somewhere.”

I nodded and pushed around some chunks of unidentifiable vegetable—cauliflower, maybe?—with my spoon, my appetite gone again. Maybe Berna was right; magical stress didn’t do much for the appetite.

What food couldn’t fix, a certain boy could. I was ready to go back to the House, to go home to the familiar. I put down my spoon and pushed back the bowl. “I should probably get back. Can you tell Mallory I said good-bye? And thank Berna for the grub?”

“I can.”

I stood up, but paused before heading to the door. “I’m not entirely sure why you took her on. Or me, I guess, since I come with her. For whatever reason you’re doing it, in case she doesn’t say it, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Merit.”

I walked to the door, catching a glance of the parking spots outside. My Volvo, beaten and weathered . . . was gone. Had the missing window given a thief easy access? Or had a rioter followed me here and stolen her as a final punishment?

I looked back at Gabriel. “My car’s gone.”

He rose and walked toward me. “Yeah. I’m having someone look at it. See if it’s worth fixing.”

My Volvo was undeniably “worth” fixing, since it was my primary mode of transportation. Still . . . “You’re having someone look at it? Who?”

He smiled slyly. “I’ve got a guy.”

Okay, so he had a guy, and his guy was looking at my car. What was the appropriate response here? Shape-shifter car repair etiquette was definitely not covered in the Canon, the code of vampiric law.

“Your katana’s on the table there,” he said, gesturing to a booth by the door. I walked over and picked it up, wrapping the loose belt around the crimson scabbard.

“Thank you, I guess,” I said. But I still had to get back to Cadogan House. “Isn’t there an El stop on Damen? I think I can get to the Loop, then catch a bus to get back to Hyde Park?” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually ridden the El or worried about bus schedules. I was woefully out of touch.

“No need,” Gabe said. “I’ve got a loaner.”

“A loaner? Should I give you some money?” I asked, but Gabriel shook his head.

“It’s on the house, Kitten. I’m doing a favor for myself, really.”

My eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How so?”

“I’ll get to hear about Ethan’s reaction when he sees you in that.”

He pointed at the window . . . and the curvy, silver roadster that now sat in the spot my Volvo had once filled, a shifter emerging from the driver’s side. It was small and loaded with chrome, and a Mercedes logo sat neatly between its round front lights.

“What is that?” I asked, just managing not to press my nose to the glass like an anxious puppy.

“That, Merit, is a 1957 Mercedes-Benz 300SL with a brand-new V8 and about 350 horsepower. It is the car Ethan would stake a vamp to drive, pardon the expression. And I’m going to let you borrow it.”

Ethan’s prized possession, a sleek, black Mercedes convertible, had been the victim of a supernatural attack by the former mayor of Chicago. He’d attempted to replace it with a series of vehicles: an Aston Martin, a Bentley, and currently, a black Ferrari FF coupe. He was still looking for the “right” car, and I had a feeling this particular gem would come pretty close.

Still, actively trying to rile up a vampire wasn’t exactly a shifter thing to do. “You want Ethan to be jealous of a car?”

“No,” he said, rocking Connor a bit as he stirred. “I just think you’ll enjoy his reaction. And I’ll enjoy hearing about it.”

Connor gurgled happily. Even he liked the idea of riling Ethan up.

“Where do you even keep a car like that?” I glanced back at the bar. “Surely there’s no garage here?”

Gabriel nodded at the shifter who walked into the bar and dropped the keys into Gabe’s palm. “We don’t sleep here. We have a compound outside the city. Grass. Trees. Space to roam.”