She smiled. “Check your phone.”
I pulled it out and checked the screen. Luc had taken it over again, this time his caricature waving a small white flag. TIME’S UP, PARTNER! HEAD INSIDE! TIME’S UP, PARTNER! HEAD INSIDE!
“I guess that means I’m relieved,” I said. “Short shifts tonight.”
“It’s the cold,” she said. “These guys prep for it, and they have the gear.” She nodded toward Angelo and Louie, who nodded seriously. “Us?” she said, sticking out a foot in a designer sheepskin boot. “Not so much.”
“Stay warm,” I said, then collected the empty travel mugs for the return trip indoors.
I hopped up the steps and managed again to finagle the door open with mugs in hand. The foyer was empty but for one vampire who was heading for the door. It was Scott, all by his lonesome. He wasn’t wearing a coat, so I assumed he didn’t plan to be outside long. Either way, I was glad I’d met him going out. I didn’t care for the thought of a Master vampire running around outside on a potentially lethal night. If I’d had a chance to pull out my phone, I’d have called Jonah. But I had to suffice for the moment.
“Heading out?” I asked, dropping the mugs on a side table.
He glanced back. “Merit. Yes. I needed some fresh air. Are you leaving?”
“Just heading back in. But if you want to go out, I can accompany you.”
“Do you really think that’s necessary?”
“I think covering my ass is necessary. And if anything happened out there after I watched you leave and didn’t offer an escort, there’d be hell to pay.”
“So I’d really be doing you a favor?”
“If you want to think about it that way, sure.”
He seemed distracted and didn’t put up much of an argument, although that made it easier for me. We stepped outside.
If the cold bothered Scott, he didn’t show it. He leaned against the side of the arch that covered the portico and stared into the darkness.
I looked up at the sound of heated discussion. A group of people walked through the gate, undeterred by the human guards and vampires.
I reached for my katana, ready to strike.
But it wasn’t rioters.
It was the GP, Harold Monmonth leading the charge. He was swarthy and packed like a sausage into a very snug three-piece suit. His history with the House left much to be desired, and there wasn’t much to recommend him in person, either.
He’d brought three of his closest vampire friends behind him, two men and a woman. I recognized them as lower-ranking members of the GP—vampires who hadn’t done much but play Follow the Leader and Threaten Cadogan House during my tenure as a vampire.
Behind them on the icy concrete lay the bodies of Louie and Angelo, their limbs splayed in awkward angles, the scent of blood in the air. I was too far away to tell if they were still alive, but the positions of their bodies didn’t leave me much hope.
Juliet was nowhere to be seen, and I feared for her; she wouldn’t have allowed the guards to be taken without a fight, unless she hadn’t been capable of fighting herself. . . .
A thousand exclamations of shock and grief ran through my head, but my throat was tight with fear. As the adrenaline began to speed the processing in my brain, the thoughts congealed and condensed into one central goal: Get in front of Scott.
I unsheathed my sword and stepped in front of him, offering my body as a shield. There wasn’t even time to be afraid or to fear the consequences of what I’d done. There was only the act—protecting my partner’s Master, and my Master’s friend—from the obvious danger in front of us.
“Well, hello, dear,” Harold said.
Ethan, Harold Monmonth is here. The guards are down, and I don’t see Juliet. I’m outside with Scott. Gather the guards and get your ass out here. And call an ambulance.
“You’re trespassing,” I advised him. “The authorities have been notified.”
“I seriously doubt that, Merit. You haven’t had the time, and I doubt the authorities would be terribly concerned about more infighting among Chicago’s vampires.”
“What do you want?” Scott asked.
“We are here to take what’s ours. GP vampires are not to intermingle with trash who’ve rejected our authority. By being here, you are rebelling against the GP, and we take that as an act of war. Leave this House now, or we will be forced to act.”
“As I advised you on the phone,” Scott said, “if the GP wishes to give us orders, Darius can contact me directly. I take orders from him, not from you.”
“Ah,” Harold said, lifting a finger, “but Darius is incapacitated. And while he is, we cannot simply allow this rebellion to go on without reprobation.”