Hard Bitten - Chloe Neill [36]
“Can’t be a good idea to have him running around Kansas City without oversight.”
“And that was exactly the problem. The GP didn’t think he was sane enough for a House, but that just meant an ego-driven psychopath was running around making one vamp after another. The creation of Murphy House was a way for the GP to rein in the Rogues and one-up Max. They gave Rich the House and grandfathered us in under some ancient Canon provision.”
“How’d you end up in Chicago?”
“I transferred to Grey when Scott got his Masterdom. Each new House gets to steal a few Novitiates from the others to help fill it out. They’re able to initiate new vamps, as well, obviously, but the trade gives them a start.”
“Are you worried someone at the party might recognize you? I mean, you’ve been around for a while, and if anyone there is from Grey House . . .”
“If anyone there is from Grey House, they’ll think I’m there to find them, enforce House rules, and drag them back to rationality—right before I kick their asses. Grey House is not Navarre House. We may enjoy sports, but we respect authority. We’re a team—a unit. There’s a clear chain of authority, and we follow it.”
“And Scott’s the coach?”
“And the general,” he agreed.
While that might be theoretically true, I thought, Jonah was still a member of an organization whose mission was to secretly police the Masters. That didn’t exactly fit the Scott-is-my-general analogy.
“Anyway, no worries on my end,” Jonah concluded.
We passed a line of tourists burdened with restaurant leftovers and shopping bags. They looked exhausted, as if it was well past time for them to return to their hotel.
“I’ve never been to an actual rave before,” I said after we passed them. I looked over at him. “Have you?”
“Near one, didn’t go in.”
“I’m nervous,” I confessed.
“I have no objection to nerves before an op,” Jonah said. “They keep you sharp. On your toes. As long as you won’t freeze up—and from what I’ve heard about the attack on Cadogan, you aren’t going to freeze up.”
“I’ve been good so far.”
“So far counts.” He came to a stop at the light and pointed to the left. “We’ll cross here, then a couple of blocks up.”
When the light changed, we walked across the street and headed east, a couple of blocks off Michigan.
“This is it,” Jonah said.
It was . . . definitely something. The building looked like a gleaming black spear thrust into the banks of the Chicago River—at least up to the top three or four floors. They were still under construction, their skeletal structures wrapped in hazy plastic.
A plywood sign announced the building was the future home of a finance company.
With vampires like these, I thought, who needs enemies?
“Today,” Jonah said, “we’re playing invited guests. Act like you belong.” He pushed through the building’s revolving door. As I followed, Jonah smiled at the man behind the security desk and sauntered over, looking exactly like he belonged in a penthouse vampire party.
“We’re here for the, er, mixer,” Jonah casually said.
“Security code?” the uniform asked.
Jonah smiled. “Temptress.”
For a second, I thought he’d gotten it wrong. The uniform looked at Jonah, then me, before apparently deciding we were in the building for legitimate reasons, and gesturing toward the elevator. “Top floor. Stay away from the edges. It’s a nasty fall.”
Jonah walked toward the elevator, then pushed the button. When the car arrived, we slipped inside.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked when the door closed.
“I’m not entirely sure.”
“You can do it. Just remember, if this is a rave, our goal isn’t to close them down tonight. We step in, and we figure out what Mr. Jackson might have seen. We identify perps, feuds, whatever we can. One step forward is good enough for our purposes.”
“That sounds reasonable enough.”
“The RG is a very reasonable organization.”
“Not that it matters tonight,” I pointed out.
“The RG always matters. Our welfare always matters.”
The intensity in his voice made me ask, “Is this a test? An RG vetting process?”
The elevator zipped us to the top floor, and