Drink Deep
CHAPTER FOUR

CHICAGO GIVETH; CHICAGO TAKETH AWAY
So, it turns out each body of water had its own protector.
There were spring nymphs and fountain nymphs, ocean nymphs and waterfal nymphs. And sirens, not nymphs, control ed the Great Lakes.
In Chicago, the River nymphs had control of the river and its boundaries. Lorelei, the Lake Michigan siren, control ed the ebb and flow of the lake. She was the only inhabitant of an otherwise deserted, woody, three-square-mile island in the middle of the water.
Most important, the nymphs hated her. They treated us to a screechy, twenty-minute-long lecture on her faults, an antiperfor-mance evaluation. I reduced the list to her biggest faults:
1. Lorelei made a pact with the devil (who lived on the island with her);
2. Lorelei was a purveyor of black magic, including made-to-order hexes and jinxes;
3. Lorelei ate babies (human and otherwise); and 4. Lorelei was an al -around, black-wearing, Goth-leaning, antisocial freak (frankly, just the kind of girl a bunch of cute, pretty, busty nymphs would hate).
I had a pretty clear mental image of Lorelei - helped along by havin F"1eo .g read way too many fairy tales and horror novels as a teenager - as a hunchbacked crone draped in shabby black fabric, standing above the lake in a position not unlike Alanna's had been. Arms outstretched, craggy nose poised over cruel y twisted lips, offering up incantations to kil the lake for some reason we hadn't yet determined.
But planting that image in my brain seemed to soothe the pretty girls, who were now hugging and adjusting their slips and wiping their tears away in a giant nymphy hug-fest.
Frankly, it was hard to keep the boys' attention. A little throat-clearing did the trick.
"We could pay her a visit," Jonah suggested.
To be honest, that idea didn't thril me. Unfortunately, this problem was bigger than my discomfort. The nymphs were getting weaker, and God only knew how the other sups were faring.
"It's probably a good idea," my grandfather said, "if there's even a smal chance it would make a difference.
And I don't recal there being any means of communication out there, so it's not as if we could simply cal her." He looked at me, a question in his eyes.
I sighed. "Why me?"
"Because you're a girl," Catcher said.
It took me a moment to fathom a response. "Excuse me?"
"She's a siren," Catcher said. "Luring sailors to their deaths? Singing songs beautiful enough to make them weep? Trapping them in eternal ecstasy?"
Jonah's eyes went big as saucers, which made me rol mine. "And that makes my visiting her a bad idea because . . . ?"
"Because you wouldn't come back," Catcher dryly said.
"She'd be magical y bound to seduce you, to entrance you, and you'd be stuck in siren limbo for the rest of your immortal days."
"Again, I'm not real y feeling dissuaded."
"You'd feel dissuaded when you'd forgotten to eat or drink because you couldn't stand to be out of her presence.
Dying of starvation ain't a pretty way to go."
"Okay," Jonah said with a grimace. "That's a better argument."
"And that's why we're sending Boobs McGee."
I slowly swiveled my head to glare at Catcher. "Seriously. You're, what, twelve now?"
"The point is, men don't visit a siren on purpose. She'd have no choice but to seduce them, and that's not real y going to help us dril down into the magic problems."
"Then I guess that settles that," I agreed. "My boobs and I wil go. But I'm not crazy about the idea of getting in a boat in that water. Transportation ideas, anyone?"
"I'l take that one," my grandfather said. "I'l make some cal s and see if I can find a helicopter pilot wil ing to visit an isolated island over a lake tainted with magic. Of course, there'l be paperwork, so it wil be tomorrow before we can take any action."
"And in the meantime?" I asked, looking at the group.
"What do we do about the lake?"
The question set off the nymphs again. When Jeff knelt down to pat the closest nymph on the back, she turned, wrapped her arms around him, and began to sob with impressive dramatic flair.
"Wel done, vampire Kdon"
"It was a legitimate question," I said. "We stil have a crisis - and since we can't travel at night, an entire day wil go by before we're talking to the siren about it."
"First step is move the nymphs inland," Jeff said over the shoulder of his embracing nymph. "Farther from the water and whatever is going on out there. Maybe that wil help them retain some strength in the meantime."
Cue the crying.
"I know, honey," he said, patting her back with brotherly affection. "But we need to let the lake heal, don't we?"
She bobbed her head while sniffing, but maintained her vice-like grip on Jeff.
"I'l coordinate the move," Catcher said. "Maybe the fairies wil host some of them overnight."
"The Breckenridges have a huge house in Napervil e, but putting shifters and nymphs together probably isn't a good idea." As if on cue, I watched the nymph's hand sneak down Jeff's butt and get in a good squeeze. He yelped and politely pushed her away, but she smiled unapologetical y. I wasn't sure if she didn't know Jeff had a girlfriend - or just didn't care.
"That would be a 'no' on the Brecks," Catcher grumbled.
"What do we do about the humans?" Jonah said, watching as more lines of people moved toward the lake to get a look. "They are going to freak out."
I couldn't blame them. As paranormal events went, this one was very disconcerting, and it hit something close to our hearts. Chicago curled around the lake, and the river ran through the heart of the city. They were bound together, and humans would inevitably see this as a paranormal violation of that connection. I didn't look forward to the outcry.
"I'l work up some talking points for Mayor Kowalczyk,"
my grandfather said, "although God knows how we'l explain it."
"Focus on the part about how this isn't the apocalypse," I suggested, but a frisson of fear stil tightened my chest.
"And try to make sure they don't automatical y blame it on vampires. We have enough to deal with right now."
He patted my back. "We'l work the problem, do a little research. You kids get home. I know you're short-staffed at the House. I'l give you a cal when we've got the transportation lined up."
I nodded, although I hated bailing on a project. Sitting around and anticipating things to come wasn't exactly a favorite pastime. To keep busy, I made a mental note to check out the House's world-class library; if there was information to be found about our reclusive siren, the library would have it.
I made my good-byes to Jeff (stil entangled in nymph), but pul ed Catcher aside for an update. "How goes the studying?"
Catcher rol ed his eyes. "I'm told her stress level has only been historical y exceeded by the 'Meisner-Moxner Presentation,' whatever that was."
I grimaced. Meisner-Moxner was a household products company for which Mal ory, a former ad exec, spent two straight weeks preparing a kick-ass branding campaign, only to be told three days before the presentation that her boss "just wasn't feeling it."
The next seventy-two hours involved a caffeine-induced and sleep-deprived haze of massive proportions. Mal chained herself to her desk, surviving on d Kurvext seventiet soda, energy drinks, and a creative euphoria she later described as "epic." When al was said and done, the agency bagged the deal and she slept for two straight days.
The Meisner-Moxner campaign went down in advertising history as one of the most successful household product rol outs of the century. Unfortunately, Junior Moxner spent the company's newfound money on cal girls and cocaine, and Meisner-Moxner Home Brands, Inc., went bankrupt soon after that. Mal ory slept for another two straight days after learning about that.
So if her exam prep was even close to Meisner-Moxner, I felt for Mal ory . . . and Catcher.
"God bless you, man. But at least Simon has to take the brunt of the stress. Since he's seeing her during the testing part, I mean."
Catcher's expression went flat. "I'm sure he's seeing plenty of her."
The squint in his eyes had al the hal marks of a jealous boyfriend. But how was that possible? This was Catcher.
Six-pack-abs-and-ridiculous-body-and-bril iant-wielder-of-magic Catcher. He who took gruff from no one. Maybe I misread him. Maybe he just didn't like Simon. I'd had a sense of that before, but curiosity kil ed the cat, not the vampire, so I pushed ahead.
"Bad blood between you and Simon?" I wondered.
"I don't trust him."
When he didn't elaborate, I almost asked if he meant he didn't trust Simon with Mal ory, but thought better of it.
Catcher was a man's man, and suggesting he was jealous would not go over wel .
Instead, I gave him a supportive pat on the back. "When this is al over, I'l buy drinks for you and your newly minted official sorceress."
Catcher grumbled something I didn't catch, but I assumed it was related to his hatred for the Order. He'd been excommunicated, and it couldn't have been easy for him to watch Mal ory struggle so hard to gain membership.
What Chicago giveth, Chicago taketh away.
We made our good-byes to Catcher, and Jonah and I headed back toward our cars.
"I know you're bummed you won't be able to visit the siren tomorrow," I offered.
"Clinical y depressed," he agreed. "Do you think her skirt wil be shorter than the nymphs', or maybe a bit longer?"
I rol ed my eyes, but couldn't keep from smiling. He was funny. But I wasn't going to contribute to what I'm sure was already a healthy ego.
"Since we're effectively done for the night, you wanna grab a bite?"
He probably meant the question in a purely platonic way, but it stil triggered fluttery panic in my chest. On the other hand, dinner would give me opportunity to quiz Jonah about his relationship with my grandfather. Having learned my father had tried to bribe Ethan to make me a vampire, I was understandably suspicious about vampires' relationships with members of my family.
"Wil you tel me how you know my grandfather?"
"Possibly. How do you feel about spicy?"
"Nuclear-explosion spicy or supermarket-salsa spicy?"
"Whichever you prefer. The world is your oyster."
"I should probably say no. You total y sold me out."
"How so?"
"You told them I got hit with a stiletto." Getting sliced up by a Jimmy Choo knockoff hadn't exactly been my finest moment as Cadogan Sentinel. I saw no need to spread the news around.
He faked shock. "Merit, would you have me lie to your grandfather?"
"That depends on how long you've known him."
Unfortunately, he didn't take the bait. "Quid pro quo.
Dinner first, then details."
I sighed, knowing I'd been beaten. "Fine. But I want the truth."
"Oh, you'l get the truth, Merit. You'l get the truth."
Somehow, that didn't make me feel any better.
The Thai Mansion was stuck in the middle of a squatty strip mal , a dry cleaner on one side and take-out pizza chain on the other.
A bel on the door rang when we walked in. "El Paso" by Marty Robbins played on a smal radio perched on the glass counter beside a golden Buddha, an ancient cash register and a plastic bucket of peppermints.
The interior of the restaurant wasn't much to look at. The wal s were painted concrete blocks and bore a random mix of 1970s B-movie posters. These were mingled with handwritten signs warning patrons not to park in the spaces owned by the dry cleaner or attempt to pay with anything but cash. Plastic was not the new black at the Thai Mansion.
"This is the best Thai food in Chicago?" I wondered.
"Trust me," Jonah said, then nodded to a petite, dark-haired waitress who smiled back pleasantly, then nodded when he pointed to an empty table.
We took seats, and I scanned the plastic-covered, handwritten menu. There were a few sloppy translations, but most of the words weren't in English, which I figured was a good thing in a Thai restaurant. "You come here a lot?"
"More than I should admit," he said. "I'm not knocking the Grey House cafeteria, but Scott's big on convenience foods. We've had entire meals that were beige."
I imagined a plate of bread, mashed potatoes, tater tots, stuffing, and pound cake. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."
"On occasion, no. But a vamp with a taste for life likes a little more variety."
"And you're a vamp with a taste for life?"
He shrugged modestly. "The world has a lot to offer.
There's a lot to explore. I like to take advantage of that."
"So immortality's come in handy, then?"
"You might say that."
A waitress with long, dark hair scuffled over the restaurant's green carpet in white sneakers. "You ready?"
Jonah glanced at me, and when I nodded, offered his order. "Pad thai with shrimp."
"How spicy tonight?"
"Nine," he said, then handed over his menu. Their transaction complete, she looked at me.
I assumed that nine was on a scale of one to ten. I liked spicy food, but I wasn't about to order a nine at a restaurant I'd never vetted. God only knew how hot their nine might be.
"Same for me. How about a seven?" I requested, KI rd.
God onbut the waitress looked dul y at me.
"You been here before?"
I glanced between her and Jonah. "Um, no."
Shaking her head, she plucked away my menu. "No seven. You can have two."
With that pronouncement, she turned and disappeared through the curtain into the backroom.
"A two? I'm not sure how not to be insulted by that."
He chuckled low in his throat. "That's only because you haven't had a two yet."
I was doubtful, but didn't have much evidence to go on.
And speaking of missing evidence . . .
"Al right, quid pro quo time. How do you know my grandfather? I know you were friends with Charlotte. You told me that before. Is that the connection?" Charlotte is my older sister. I also have a brother, Robert, who was fol owing in my father's property-grubbing footsteps.
"I did and do know Charlotte," Jonah said. "I knew you, too."
I was drawing a complete blank. "How did you know me?"
"I took Charlotte to prom."
I froze in my seat. "You did what now?"
"I took Charlotte to her senior col ege formal."
I closed my eyes, trying to remember. I'd been home for spring break and had been witness to Charlotte's meltdown when she'd had a fight with her then-boyfriend and now-husband, Major Corkburger (yes, seriously). She'd gone with a guy named Joe to the formal instead.
The lightbulb lit.
"Oh, my God," I exclaimed, pointing at him. "You were
'Joe'! I didn't even recognize you."
Joe had been a very short-lived rebel ious phase. I saw him only a couple of times after prom. A month later, Charlotte and Major were back together, and Joe had disappeared.
"You had a perm," I reminded him. "And you took her to the formal in one of those hoodies made of rugs."
"I'd just gotten here from Kansas City." He'd said it like that explained his ensemble, like Kansas City was a foreign country with a completely different culture. "The pace was different down there, even for vampires. A little slower."
"And Charlotte introduced you to my grandfather?"
I could see Jonah's blush even in the dark. "Yeah. To piss off Major, I think. I was finishing up one of my degrees. This gorgeous girl approached me on campus one day and asked me out." He shrugged. "It's not like I was going to say no. And when we met with Noah, you had no idea who I was."
That explained why Jonah had copped such an attitude the first night we'd met near the lake. "That's why you were irritated with me," I said. "Not because you thought I was like Charlotte, but because you thought I'd forgotten you."
"You had forgotten me, and you aren't as unlike Charlotte as you'd like to believe."
I started to protest, thinking he meant to tease me about society soirees or luxury brands or winters in Palm Beach, none of which I was interested in. But instead of assuming, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and asked the question.
"Why am I like Charlotte?"
He smiled. "Because you're loyal. Because you both value your families, even if you define them differently. Her children and Major are hers. Your House is yours."
It hadn't always been that way, but I couldn't disagree with him. "I see."
A few minutes later, our waitress returned with two steaming piles of noodles.
"Nine," she said, placing a plate in front of Jonah. "And two," she said, dropping an identical plate in front of me.
I removed the wrapper from a pair of chopsticks and glanced up at Jonah in anticipation. "You ready?"
"Are you?" he asked with amusement.
"I'l be fine," I assured him, plucking up a tangle of noodles and bean sprouts. My first bite was huge . . . and I regretted it immediately.
"Two" was apparently a euphemism for "Flaming Inferno."
My eyes watered, the heat building from a slow burn at the back of my throat to a firestorm along the tip of my tongue. I would have sworn flames were actual y shooting from my ears.
"Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. Hot," I got out before grabbing my glass of water and finishing half of it in a single gulp. "That's a two?" I hoarsely asked. "That is insane."
"And you wanted a seven," Jonah nonchalantly said, eating his plate of noodles like it had been doused in nothing more than soy sauce.
"How can you possibly eat that?"
"I'm used to it."
I took another bite and chewed quickly, barely enjoying the flavor, mostly trying to choke it down before the spice caught up with me.
The waitress approached again, a carafe of water in hand. She refil ed Jonah's glass, then glanced at me.
"Two?"
"Stil too hot," I admitted, chugging down another half glass of water. "What's in it? Thai peppers?"
Shrugging, the waitress refil ed my glass again. "Cook grows them in her yard. Very hot."
"Very, very hot," I agreed. "Do people actual y order the ten?"
"Longtime customers," she said. "Or on dare."
With that pronouncement, she toddled away with her now-empty carafe.
I looked at Jonah with spice-spawned tears in my eyes.
"Thank you for not daring me to eat the ten."
"It wouldn't have been right," Jonah said, shoveling noodles into his mouth. A thin line of sweat appeared on his forehead, and he'd begun to sniff.
"I thought the heat didn't get to you?" I asked with a self-satisfied smile.
He wiped at his brow with the back of a hand, then grinned up at me. "I didn't say it wasn't hot. I just said I was used to it. Immortality's hardly worth the trouble if there's no chal enge."
I wasn't positive, but I had a sinking suspicion he wasn't talking about the food. I took another bite, and focused on the burning sting.
"Tel me about Ethan."
Startled, I looked over at Jonah. "Excuse me?"
Nonchalantly, he shrugged and swal owed another knot of noodles. "You told me you weren't together K'ont. That may be true, but I don't get the sense it's the entire story."
I watched him for a moment, smiling as he chewed, as I decided what to tel him. My time with Ethan had been tempestuous. More stops than starts, and those stops had been traumatic. Ethan was gone before the relationship had had a chance to blossom, but that didn't make the grief any easier to bear - or explain.
"We had moments together," I said. "We weren't quite a couple - although I think we might have been if he hadn't . . ." I couldn't make myself finish the sentence.
"If Celina hadn't done what she'd done," Jonah finished kindly.
I nodded.
"He meant a lot to you."
I nodded again. "He did."
"Thank you for tel ing me," he said.
He let the subject drop, but I stil had the sense he was asking something more. And his subtlety didn't make the rest of our dinner any less awkward. I kept the conversation moving (and light) until we paid and headed back to our cars. That's when he got to the heart of it.
"You had feelings for Ethan," he said. "You were close and that affected your perception of the Red Guard. But you know now the GP isn't always on the side of the good and the just. Grey House knows who's in the wrong about Celina, and about Ethan's death. The GP should have supported what you were doing in Chicago, and instead of offering help when V surfaced, they ignored it and blamed you for the aftermath. The RG's argument isn't with the Houses; it's with the GP."
"I swore an oath."
"Working with us to ensure the GP doesn't tear your House apart supports that oath."
I considered the argument in silence. He had a point; the GP was no friend to Cadogan House. On the other hand, wasn't joining the Red Guard stil a slap in Malik's face? An agreement to work behind his back even if supposedly for the "greater good."
"Why?" I wondered.
He frowned. "What do you mean, why?"
"Why do you want me to join the RG? What's the benefit?
We already know the GP is self-centered and more focused on perception than real work. They leave the hard stuff to us and stil blame us after the fact, so what's the point? Membership doesn't change anything, except risking that we'l be nailed to the wal if they find out."
"We?"
I looked back at him, and wasn't thril ed by the self-satisfied grin that was overtaking his expression.
"You said 'we,' " he pointed out.
"It was a turn of phrase. You know what I meant." I tried to keep my tone nonchalant, but he had a point. Jonah and I were working together - had been working together - to keep the Houses safe. Was I already implicitly a member?
"No, Merit, I don't know that," he countered. "I know you just confessed you already consider yourself to be doing the work of the RG." He stepped in front of me and looked down. "You want to know why you should join? Because for the first time in your life, you'd have a partner. You'd have someone on your side, at your beck and cal , ready to serve and assist you in whatever the assignment might be."
He was wrong about that. W Kabody to shen Ethan was alive, I'd had a partner.
"I'm already working with you," I pointed out.
"You have me because you don't have a better option. If Ethan was stil here, or if there was an extra guard in your House, you'd go that route."
I couldn't disagree with him there.
"But here's the real kicker," he said. "For the first time in your life, you'd be offered the choice. You were dragged unconscious into Cadogan House. You were appointed Sentinel with no say in the matter."
He tipped his head down, his lips nearly brushing my ear.
The move was intimate, but it didn't feel sexual. Jonah wasn't attempting to break through my defenses - he was demonstrating how close we'd already become. "You'd be making the choice to serve."
He was right. I hadn't had the choice then, but he was giving me the choice now. I could admit it was a powerful argument.
He apparently knew that, too, because without another word, he stood straight again and walked away.
"That's it?"
He glanced back. "That's it. This cal , Merit, is al yours."
As he got into his car and drove away, I blew out a breath. To RG or not to RG, that was the question.
Since the lake was stil dark and unmoving, I wasn't excited about the report I'd have to give Kel ey back at the House.
But at least we had a plan, and if anyone in Chicago could corral a helicopter, my grandfather could.
When I pul ed up to the House, the protestors were louder and larger in number, their signs promising even more hel fire and damnation than usual. "Apocalypse" and
"Armageddon" were sprinkled among the hand-painted posters, just as we'd feared. And to be frank, I couldn't completely blame them. Even I wasn't sure why the lake had turned black and started leeching magic, so I guess the end of the world was on the list of possibilities. It was at the bottom of the list, but it was stil on the list.
The protestors weren't the only ones out in force. We'd been the subject of picture- (and money-) hungry paparazzi for a while now; a corps of photographers was usual y camped out on a corner near the House. Tonight, though, news trucks lined the street, reporters waiting to see vampire shenanigans. Anything that went wrong in this city and was remotely paranormal in nature led them straight to our door. It was an argument for outing the rest of Chicago's sups, if only to take some of the heat off us.
The reporters, familiar with me through the Ponytailed Avenger story and my patrols of the Cadogan grounds, cal ed me to a stop.
I didn't want to support their efforts at sensational journalism, but I figured their theories would only get worse if I ignored them. So I walked over to a knot of reporters and offered a muted acknowledgment.
"Tough night out there, isn't it?"
Some chuckled; others began shouting out questions.
"Did vampires poison the lake?"
"Is this the beginning of the end for the city of Chicago?"
"Is this the first plague?"
I had to work to keep my expression neutral and not rol my eyes at the questions. That I had no idea made that a K
madthlittle easier.
"I was hoping you'd tel me!" I said, offering a light smile.
"We're trying to figure that out ourselves."
"This wasn't something created by vampires? A magic spel ?"
"Vampires don't do spel s." I scanned the media badge of the man in front of me. "Maybe it was Matthew here who turned the water black."
The crowd laughed but the questions kept coming.
"Believe me," I said, raising my hands, "we want the lake back to normal as quickly as you do, and we're trying to figure it out just like everyone else in Chicago. Problem is, we didn't do it, so we're having trouble figuring out where to start."
"Merit, is this the start of the apocalypse?" piped up a reporter in the back.
"I certainly hope not. But if I'm going down, let it be in Chicago with a red hot in hand. Am I right?"
Sure, it was sycophantic, and I'm sure some of the press guys picked up on that. But what else could I do? If I didn't keep the focus off vampires, things were going to get very nasty very quickly. With questions peppering the air behind me, I waved good-bye and walked into the House, sharing a sympathetic eye rol with the fairies at the gate when I passed them.
I felt a pang as I wondered what Ethan, a PR master strategist if there ever was one, would have said to them. I wasn't him, but I hoped I'd done enough to keep things calm for a little while longer.
I headed immediately to the Ops Room; Kel ey and Juliet were the only guards there. Both looked up when I entered, but their expressions fel after seeing my face.
"No luck?" Kel ey asked.
"Not much," I said, taking a seat at the conference table beside Kel ey. "The River nymphs are grieving, and by al accounts had nothing to do with the water. They've pointed their little manicured fingers at Lorelei, the lake siren. She lives on an island in the middle of the lake. The Ombud's office is arranging for transportation, but not until tomorrow.
I hope it's a solid lead."
Kel ey frowned and nodded. In the way of al managers, I imagine she wanted a crisis addressed and solved so she could move on to the next matter at hand - whether dealing with a shortage of guards or a receiver in the House.
"If that's the best we can do, that's the best we can do,"
Kel ey said. "It doesn't exactly take pressure off the House, but I wouldn't condone sending you into the middle of the lake a few hours before sunrise, either."
I told Kel ey about my grandfather's plans and my discussion with the paparazzi outside.
Kel ey looked suddenly tired, and I wondered if she was tired of the drama, or if Frank's blood restrictions were beginning to take their tol . The Thai food had quenched one appetite, but I could feel the hunger for blood slinking around in my mind, waiting for a time to strike. I made a note to check the kitchen upstairs for a bag of Blood4You.
"We do what we can," Kel ey said. "That's al we can do.
We work the problem and pray we can get out in front of it before the next crisis hits."
"Second that," Juliet said from her computer station.
Kel ey sighed. "And speaking of unpleasantries, I'm advised you're next on Frank's interview list."
"Yay," I said with zero enthusiasm. "I'm total y looking forward to that."
"I could assign you to spend the rest of your evening in the library, researching the lake siren to get a feel for her strengths and weaknesses. After al , it would be a dereliction of my duty to send you out to an island without being prepared. And if you were in the library stacks, Frank may not be able to find you . . ."
I grinned in appreciation. "Sneaky. I appreciate that."
"Not sneaky. Just wil ing to use the tools at my disposal.
And right now, you're my tool. I need you investigating this problem and keeping humans off our back. Being interrogated by a GP pencil pusher is not going to assist in that process." She stood up and walked to her desk, then sat down behind her computer. "Learn what you can, and fil me in on what you find out."
I gave her a salute and headed upstairs again.