Drink Deep - Chloe Neill [38]
“Blah blah blah,” Lindsey muttered. “Blame the vampires instead of actually working to fix the problem.”
Kelley paused the video. “Mayor Kowalczyk has a different constituency,” she said. “And a very different outlook on things.”
Lindsey humphed. “A naïve outlook.”
“Be that as it may,” I said, “it’s the outlook she’s providing the city. And they’ll believe her, which is why we need to get in front of this.” But as I stared daggers at the image of our new political foe, I saw something even more disturbing. “Kelley, increase the image.”
There was confusion in her expression, but she did it. And there behind Diane Kowalczyk, in all his black-fatigued glory, stood McKetrick.
“That’s McKetrick,” I said, pointing him out.
“Are you sure?” Kelley asked, tilting her head at the picture.
“Positive. It’s hard to forget a man who’s stuffed a gun in your face. Well, who’s ordered his goon to stuff a gun in your face, anyway.”
“Shit,” Kelley uncharacteristically said. “So our paramilitary foe has made friends with a politician.”
“That might explain where some of her worst ideas come from,” I suggested, my stomach curdling at the thought, McKetrick and his hatred would have political legitimacy in Chicago.
“Add that to his info sheet,” Kelley told Lindsey. “Kowalczyk’s a political ally, and he’s got enough sway to stand on a podium beside her.”
“This night keeps getting better,” I said, then glanced at Kelley. “And speaking of horrible ideas, I’m going to see Tate, and we’re going to have a little chat about the GP and what went down in Creeley Creek.”
“There’s a possibility that’s part of his plan—that he’s lying to the GP to get you out there.”
That echoed Jeff’s concern, and I’d decided they were both right. “I’m counting on it,” I said. “But I figure the faster I make an appearance, the faster we figure out what he’s up to.”
“Not that he’d give up his plan willingly,” Lindsey said.
“There is that,” I allowed. “After that, and assuming he doesn’t use his power to turn me into a mindless zombie, I’m going to see the siren.”
Kelley nodded. “Godspeed, Sentinel.”
I wasn’t sure if God, however he or she might exist, had any eyes on the drama in Chicago. But just in case, I said a little prayer. Couldn’t hurt.
I found a voice mail awaiting me when I headed up the stairs and to my car.
It was Jeff, with instructions. I’d been directed to meet Catcher and my grandfather at a CPD facility near the lake, in an industrial part of town full of rusty towers and crumbling brick factories. It wasn’t exactly a cozy setting for a chat with Tate, but it undoubtedly posed less of a public threat than if he’d been incarcerated downtown. I’d warned the CPD officers who’d picked him up to be careful as they’d taken him in for questioning. I hadn’t heard any stories about cops or guards being tricked into doing his bidding; maybe that was why.
Tate was definitely not human; he’d all but confessed as much. Although he’d partially drugged Celina Desaulniers into submission, he’d also used some power of his own to accomplish that task. But what powers? And how much of it did he wield?
Frankly, we had no idea. That wasn’t exactly comforting, but what could we do?
As I stepped into the cool fall night, I was assaulted by the sounds of protestors. There were tons of them outside, shouldering signs promising my eternal damnation and shouting out epithets. What was it about humans that made such behaviors acceptable?
But I wasn’t human anymore, so vampire etiquette won out. Even as they screamed at me, I managed not to offer them an obscene gesture on the way to the car. The self-satisfaction didn’t quite lessen the sting.
I drove southeast, the address Jeff had given me leading me to a gravel road that dead-ended in a ten-foot-high chain-link fence.
Warily, I got out of the car and walked toward the fence.
A warning blast suddenly filled the air, and a portion of the fence began to slide open.
Pushing down fear, and wishing Ethan had been at my side, I walked inside.
The fence