Drink Deep - Chloe Neill [63]
“The fairies,” Jonah whispered back. “The mercenary fairies.”
“There’s a reason they’re referred to as mercenary fairies,” Malik pointed out. “Our relationship with them is tense, at best, and it’s only that good because they are well paid for their efforts.”
“Be that as it may, this is clearly a matter within their purview. There is no better group to ask. There is no other group to ask. I suggest you select an away party and send it. Now.”
Frankly, I thought it was a stupid idea. We’d already talked with two supernatural representatives—nymphs and the siren—and neither had anything to do with the problems the city was facing. Would visiting a group that already hated us accomplish anything other than raising their ire?
Malik, ever the diplomat, managed a respectful nod for Frank before looking at us. “Tread carefully into the world of fairy. They are a different breed of supernaturals, no pun intended. Different expectations, different formalities. But they know things. He’s right; it’s worth the trip. Find the queen. Pay her a visit and discover who’s doing this.”
“And make them stop,” Franklin said. “Anything less is unacceptable.”
The away party arranged and orders issued, Malik looked at Luc. “Get everyone back into the House. It’s not safe to be outside.”
Jonah and I shared a nod and began to walk back toward the House. Anticipation began to flutter in my stomach, but it was Malik’s parting words that triggered the full-out panic.
“And may God help us all.”
The emergency lights didn’t provide much ambience, but they provided enough illumination for me to find my way upstairs and grab my sword and dagger.
Jonah trailed me all the way to my room, which surprised me. I hadn’t expected him to follow, and I certainly hadn’t invited him. But by the time I realized he was traipsing up the stairs behind me, telling him to stay put would have been that much more awkward.
He stood in the threshold of my door as I sent Catcher a message. I wasn’t exactly thrilled with Catcher right now, but I wanted a non-vamp to know I was heading into fairy territory. His response was nearly immediate: YOUR FUNERAL.
Charming.
I pulled out my dagger and slipped it into my boot, then took my sheathed katana from its horizontal wall mount. That had been a gift from Luc; he’d installed one for Lindsey one rainy Saturday, and she’d decided it was fabulous enough that I’d needed one, too. I couldn’t disagree—it was a gorgeous way to display the sword. Even in its scabbard it was a beautiful weapon, sleek and gleaming, the blade inside equally sleek but deadly and curving just so.
“Your rooms aren’t quite as lush as ours are,” Jonah said.
“You have more room and fewer vampires,” I pointed out, gathering up my belt. He stepped aside as I closed the door behind us.
“True.”
He followed me back downstairs, but pulled me to a stop before we went outside. “I don’t actually know where the queen lives—it’s a secret the fairies guard with their lives. In order to get that information, we’ll have to offer them something in return.”
So much for Chicago’s sups being in this together. “What will they want?”
“Precious metals or stones.” He grinned. “They’re still on the gold standard. I don’t suppose you have any sitting around?”
“Gold? No. No, I don’t. I left all my bullion in my room.”
“Smart-ass,” he said, but he was smiling when he said it.
As I considered our options, I absently touched the Cadogan medal around my neck . . . and got an idea.
“Follow me,” I told him, and walked down the House’s main hallway, where the administrative offices were located. Vampires were funneling back into the House now, and we found Helen in her office. Her Barbie-pink office.
The room lit by candles, she sat behind her desk in a pink tracksuit, every hair in her steel gray bob in place. She was making notes on a pad with an old-fashioned dip calligraphy pen. She glanced up when we entered and dipped her pen back into a small glass jar of black ink.
“Yes, Sentinel?”
“I don’t suppose you have any extra Cadogan medals in hand?”
Alarm