“I’m in the process of talking to Catcher about it,” Mallory continued. “I have to tread carefully because, you know, I almost managed to destroy Chicago. And I don’t mean to make light. I know what I did, and now I’m trying to live with it. To turn myself around so that I can actually use this gift for something more than utter selfishness.”
Now that was more like it. “I like the sound of that. What about Gabe and the others?”
Gabriel Keene was the head of the North American Central Pack and Mallory’s magical rehab sponsor.
“Gabe’s good. He’s spending a lot of time with Tanya and Connor—doesn’t want to miss out on Connor’s milestones. Berna’s still playing mother.” Berna was one of Gabe’s relatives and the bartender at Little Red, the Ukrainian Village watering hole where the Pack hung out in Chicago.
“How long are you going to stay with them?”
“I’m not sure. They’re building up their catering business, and they need help to get it rolling. Frankly, I’m not sure they’ve really thought about me long term.” She cleared her throat. “And that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“What’s that?” I asked, cutting a chunk of pizza with the side of my fork.
“What I’m going to do when I’m cleared to use my magic again,” she clarified. “I need a productive job. A mission of some kind. And I thought, maybe, I could help you guys.”
I paused, fork midway to my mouth. “Help us?”
“Help Cadogan House. I need to do something good, Merit,” she explained before I could respond. Which was good, because I had no idea how to respond. “I need to help people. I need to make good for what I did. And, frankly, you guys need a lot of help.”
She wasn’t wrong about that, and I agreed she needed a post-rehab plan. But I wasn’t sure Cadogan House was the appropriate outlet.
“What, exactly, did you have in mind?” I asked.
“Well, I was thinking I could become permanently attached to the House—like a magical consultant. I could help you plan operations. Go out with you on missions. I’ve done it before, with the Tates. And that ended up okay.”
She had helped with the Tates—twin fallen angels Mallory unleashed on Chicago. But we’d asked for her help primarily because she’d created the problem and was in a position to help solve it.
I didn’t want to break her spirit or halt her recuperation, but I couldn’t see Ethan agreeing to that. He wouldn’t give her that kind of access, especially considering her history with the House.
But before I could answer, a boom shook the building.
My heart pounded with sudden fear, but before I could rise from my seat another boom sounded—a percussion that vibrated through my body with its bass rumble and prickled my arms into gooseflesh.
A vase dropped from a small shelf on the wall across from us, shattering into pieces on the floor. The human closest to it screamed with surprise, and most everyone else jumped up and ran to the windows.
Now in the darkness came a different sound, a rhythmic sound. It was nothing I could identify, but nothing that was accidental. And there was another thing out there I easily recognized.
Steel.
I could feel out guns and swords, a perk of having tempered my katana with my own blood. That there was enough of it outside the building to sense inside made me that much more nervous.
Mallory’s gaze—narrowed, but not afraid—found mine. “What do you think that was?”
“I don’t know,” I said, dropping my fork, my appetite suddenly, and unusually, gone. “But I think we’d better find out.”
Chapter Three
BEAT THE DRUM
Mallory dropped cash on the table and followed me through the crowd of patrons to the front of the restaurant. As we walked, I pulled on my coat and stuffed my gloves into my pocket.
Saul stood at the front window with the aproned members of his kitchen staff, peering into the darkness. He didn’t take his eyes from the glass until I stood beside him.
“What in God’s name was that?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. But I’m going to check it out. Stay in here and lock the door behind me until I’m sure what it is.”
“I’m not going to stay in here while you go traipsing into trouble.”
“I’ve traipsed into worse,” I told him. “I’ll be fine. I’m immortal, but you’re not.” I put a hand on his arm and raised my pleading gaze to his. “Let me take this one, okay?”
Saul looked at me, judging for a moment, before stepping aside and letting me through.