Hard Bitten

Now go get your man, Sentinel.”

Twenty minutes later I was dressed, katanaed, and on my way to Garfield Park. Ethan, Luc, and Malik were in the Ops Room, ready to send out troops, but hoping to save the House any more involvement than necessary. They’d also conferenced in Jeff in the event I needed computer assistance.

Unfortunately, I knew something was wrong when I pulled into Cermak’s driveway. The garage door was open and the Mustang was gone.

The house was dark and empty, even the cheap lace curtains stripped from the windows.

I pulled my car to the curb just past the house.

“I was this freakin’ close,” I cursed, pulling out my cell phone and dialing up the crew.

“He’s gone,” I told him as soon as Luc answered. “The Mustang’s gone, and the house is empty.”

But then, my luck changed.

“Hold on,” I said, turning off the car and slinking down in the seat, my eyes on the rearview mirror. The Mustang pulled up to the curve. Paulie hopped out of the car and hustled toward the garage.

“What’s going on, Sentinel?” Ethan asked.

“He’s back. He’s running into the garage.

Maybe he forgot something.”

Sure enough, not ten seconds later, Paulie hustled out of the garage with . . . a steering wheel in hand.

“He forgot a steering wheel,” I dryly informed the crew, wondering if Paulie had any idea he’d soon be brought down by a car accessory. Ah, well. His loss, my gain.

After a moment, he pulled the Mustang back into the street. I waited until he’d passed me, then turned on the car and pulled out behind him.

“He’s leaving again, and I’m on his trail,” I told them. “I’m about two blocks back, so hopefully he can’t see me.”

“Which direction?”

“Um, east for now. Maybe toward the Loop?”

I heard Malik’s voice. “Maybe he’s trying to bust out Celina?”

“If he and Tate are friends, he wouldn’t need to do any busting. In any event, I’ll keep you posted.”

I hung up and put the phone down again, and then concentrated on tailing Paulie through the city. He was the kind of driver that irritated the crap out of me: he had a fine car with undoubtedly a solid engine, but he drove like his license was on the line. Too slowly. Too carefully. Of course, there was a warrant out for his arrest, so it made sense for him to avoid giving the cops any reason to pull him over.

It took twenty minutes for him to reach the Loop, but he didn’t stop there. He kept moving south, and that was when I got nervous again.

I dialed up the crew.

“We’re here,” Luc said.

“Send out some backup,” I said. “He’s heading for Creeley Creek.”

I didn’t bother entering Creeley Creek through the front gate; I didn’t want to give the mayor and his apparent crony that much warning.

Instead, I parked a few blocks up, buckled on my katana, jumped the fence, and snuck across the grounds. I’m sure there must have been security somewhere, but I didn’t see any, so I moved around the house, peeking through the low, horizontal windows until I saw them—Tate behind his desk while Paulie chatted animatedly from the other side of it.

But they weren’t alone. Who was perched on the edge of Tate’s desk?

Celina Desaulniers.

I closed my eyes, ruing my naivete. Why would Celina have confessed to horrible acts in front of humans? Because she had a relationship with the mayor that ensured she’d get off scot-free.

This must have been part of her big plan.

Seduce the mayor, make friends with a drug distributor, and create a drug intended to remind vampires of their predatory roots. When the shit hit the fan, she could take credit for giving vamps the time of their lives, and invite humans to join the party. And she could do it all with impunity.

It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that she’d glamoured Tate into doing it. He was a politician, sure, but he had seemed to genuinely care about the city. Had Celina created the entire ruse and wooed him with polling data?

I really, really hated her.

Irritation pushing aside my fear, I moved back to a nearby patio, crossed it as surreptitiously as possible, and tried the door. My luck held—it was unlocked. I padded quietly down the hallway to the room where I’d seen them, then pushed my way inside.

They all glanced at the door.

Paulie was the first to move. He backed up a few feet, moving closer to the corner of the room—and farther from the angry vampire.

I stepped inside and shut the door behind me.

“This looks like a cozy meeting.”

Tate smiled lazily. “These young vampires have no manners these days. Didn’t even wait for an invitation, did you?”

The faux cheer worried me—and made me wonder if he was still under the influence of Celina’s glamour. I flipped the thumb guard on my sword, unsheathed it, and moved closer. No point in pretending we were here for fun.

I pointed the katana at Celina. “You set us up.”

Celina picked at a fingernail. “I did the right thing, as the GP has made clear to you time and time again. Why are you even here?” She rolled her shoulders, as if irritated.

I squinted at her in the mood lighting. “Lift your head, Celina, and look at me.”

Remarkably, she did as she was told. I could finally see her eyes—which were wide, her irises almost completely silver. She wasn’t running the show—she’d been drugged.

I’d had it wrong. Again.

I looked up at Tate. “You’re controlling her with V?”

“Only partially. I assumed you’d come calling when you figured out the connection between Mr. Cermak and me. When the police report was accessed, I received an alert. In the meantime, I thought we might amp up the drama a bit. I understand Ms. Desaulniers was quite a warrior; I decided to test V’s effects on a woman already known to be skilled. Does it make her a better fighter? A worse one? As a former researcher, you must appreciate my approach.”

“You’re crazy.”

Tate frowned. “Not even a little, unfortunately.”

Celina hopped off the corner of the desk and walked along its length, trailing a fingertip across the desktop. I kept my sword trained on her, and one eye on Tate.

“You said you were only partially controlling her with V. How else are you controlling her?”

He just sat there and smiled at me—and in that moment I felt the telltale prickle of magic in the air. But not the mildly irritating stuff Mallory and Catcher threw off. This was heavier—oilier, almost, in the way it suffused the room.

I swallowed back a burst of fear, but solved another bit of the puzzle. “You added the magical binder to the V.”

“Very good. I wondered if you and yours would discover that. Call it a signature, of sorts.”

“What are you?” I asked, although I knew part of the answer: he wasn’t human. I don’t know why I had never been able to feel it before, but now I knew it was true. The leaden magic he was throwing off was nothing like Mallory’s or Catcher’s.

Frowning, he sat forward and linked his hands on the desktop. “At the risk of sounding incredibly egotistical, I