So far, our research hadn’t produced much. We knew he was employed by the city of Chicago as head of the Office of Human Liaisons. We suspected he had a secret facility, but we hadn’t found anything yet. As far as the city and county were concerned, his home in Lincoln Park was the only property he owned.
“McKetrick,” Ethan decided, and Luc hit Play.
McKetrick’s shocking visage filled the screen, a flag waving in the breeze behind him. He wore a suit and sat behind a desk like a politician, hands linked on the desktop.
“Good evening,” he said, voice carefully modulated. “A tragedy has befallen our city, violence caused by the very thing that tonight’s demonstration railed against—the destruction of the American way of life by supernaturals who do not care for our culture, our traditions, our values. We cannot condone the violence that has marred a neighborhood tonight. But we can fight back against the supernaturals’ attempt to undermine our country. I am here for you. That’s a promise, and I’ll be making good on it. Beginning tomorrow, I’ll be embarking on a series of town hall meetings across Chicago to get your thoughts on how we can make it the country’s First City.”
“The Star-Spangled Banner” began to play in the background. Luc paused the video, and McKetrick stared back at the camera, frozen in time.
“The supernatural threat is my boot up his ass,” Lindsey muttered.
“He deserves it,” Luc said. “That entire speech is nothing but a call to arms. He’s going to incite another riot.”
“He’s blaming the rioters for the violence,” I said, “all the while telling them the violence was worth it because we’re a real and present threat.”
“And hosting town hall meetings is only going to exacerbate things,” Ethan said.
I squinted at the paused image of McKetrick, staring into his gaze as if I could find and eradicate the anti-vampire sentiment that had rooted in his brain. If his words were honest, he was truly afraid we were ruining things. Destroying things.
Frankly, there were bad seeds out there. Michael Donovan hadn’t been a walk in the park, nor were half the members of the GP. But humans weren’t immune to committing heinous acts, either; the riot was a perfect example of that.
So what drove McKetrick? What drove a human—strong, politically powerful, clearly well connected—to hate us so uniformly?
“There must be something to this,” I said. My gaze was still on the screen, but I could feel the guards’ eyes on me.
“What something?” Luc asked.
I looked over at him. “I’m not sure.” I pointed at the screen. “But look at his expression, his gaze. He wasn’t just reading words off a teleprompter. He was speaking from the heart. He doesn’t just hate us,” I concluded. “He hates us for a reason.”
“We’ve checked his background,” Luc said. “There’s nothing out of the ordinary. No run-ins with the law, no obvious tragedies, no sudden disappearances.”
“Exactly,” I said. “We think he was in the military until he suddenly wasn’t anymore, and there’s nothing even mildly notable in his history after that. So maybe the tragedy happened while he was in the military.”
Lindsey cocked her head. “You think he had a bad vampire experience while he was serving?”
“I don’t know. But I think it’s worth investigating.”
“It might be,” Luc said. “But we only confirmed his military background at all because Chuck called in a favor. That’s probably all we’re likely to get.”
All we were likely to get aboveboard? Maybe. But Jeff always had a few computer tricks up his sleeve. I sent him a quick message and asked him about it.
“What about the mayor’s press conference?” Ethan asked.
“It’s largely the same,” Luc said, flipping the screen over to a photograph of Mayor Diane Kowalcyzk with a Photoshopped Godzilla, werewolf, and cartoonish Dracula behind her.
“I see it was a well-attended event,” Ethan said with the smallest of grins. Because if you couldn’t find the humor in the drama, you only had the drama.
“According to Diane,” Luc said, “the end of the world is coming, and we are the harbingers of all that evil. Not in so many words, of course, because that would cause public panic, leading to violence and riots against vampires.” His voice was bone-dry. “And, to put a cherry on it, she doubts the riot was actually perpetrated by humans because they hate vampires, and suspects this was gang activity or an isolated incident.”
“The woman is naïve beyond all measure,” Ethan said. “And we are a political minority without an advocate.”