Howling For You: A Chicagoland Vampires Novella (A Penguin Special from New American Library) (6 page)

“What about the Pack?”

“The Pack is the Pack.” Gabe gestured toward the door. “You were in that chapel. They know love. They know respect. That’s the foundation of the Pack. And if you can’t love—if you can’t be brave enough to put love first, even if you have to sacrifice to do it—you do the Pack no service. Cowards do the Pack no service.”

I nodded, but put a hand on his arm. “You aren’t going to tell them now, are you? This is Connor’s night. This can wait.”

He grinned. “Connor won’t remember a single damn thing about tonight. But you’ll remember the look of sheer panic on Eli’s face when we tell him he’s next in line.”

The gleam in my eyes probably wasn’t especially graceful. But he was right. “Oh, yes,” I said. “Tonight is the night.”

We walked back into the room, every shifter in the sanctuary turning to face us. Gabriel put a hand at my back, rubbed supportively.

“There’s news to share,” Gabe said. “Our favorite Keene has made a decision about her future.”

I pushed the words out in a rush, lest I lose the nerve. “I hereby abdicate. Give up my position in the line of succession.” I let my gaze find Jeff, whose eyes had gone fierce. “For love.”

Noise erupted around me. I must have expected anger or disappointment, because their congratulations completely floored me.

Ben picked me up, swung me around the room. “We’ve been waiting for this, sister.”

I looked for Eli, searched his gaze for anger. As the shifter next in line, the decision would affect him most of all. But if I’d added pressure, he certainly didn’t look it.

When Ben released me, I walked to him. “I should have talked to you first—” I began, but he shook his head, put a hand on my shoulder.

“You’re allowed to have a life, Fal. You don’t have to ask me for permission to do that. Or any other yahoo in the room.”

“You’re sure?”

“Without a doubt,” he said, and for the first time, I saw in his eyes that same golden swirl of knowledge that I’d often seen in Gabriel’s. He may never lay claim to the Pack, but if he did, he’d be prepared.

Eli embraced me, kissed the top of my head. “I believe someone’s waiting for you.”

He released me, and I looked in the direction of his gaze.

Jeff stood apart from everyone else, eyes shining with love and face beaming with happiness. I don’t think I’d ever seen him that happy.

He grinned, held out a hand.

I walked to him, biting my lip to hold back a grin that felt like it would have split my face. But he was impatient. He stepped forward, met me in the middle, and cupped my face in his hands.

“I love you, Fallon Keene. I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you. And I will love you every day and night for the rest of my life.”

Tears blossomed. “I love you, too.”

With my family cheering and applauding around us, Jeff Christopher kissed me.

And for the first time, all was right with the world.

He’d made me wait in the living room, and I stood in front of the giant fish tank that stood opposite the picture window, watching clown fish dart back and forth across the water.

When the bedroom door opened, I glanced back. Jeff stood in the doorway in a pair of silk boxers. I’d only seen him naked when we’d shifted, but that meant I wasn’t exactly paying attention to his nakedness.

Jeff may have been lean, but he was well-hewn. He had the body of an endurance athlete, every inch and plane smoothed with muscle.

“My eyes are up here, Fallon.”

I took the admonishment, looked up at him with a grin, and found him smiling back with me.

He held out a hand and beckoned me forward. And I followed him. In the doorway, he kissed me softly, then gestured toward the room.

“Madam, your palace.”

The bed was covered in pink rose petals, and a bottle of champagne was cooling in a sterling silver stand. A woman’s throaty voice crooned softly in the background.

“This is . . . impressive,” I said.

“Just wait.” He turned off the lights, and two dozen candles sprang to life around the room, which now glowed softly.

“Magic?” I wondered.

He grinned. “LEDs. I connected them to a circuit”—he began, but waved off the thought. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, we’re here. And I wanted this to be romantic. Just for us.”

I nodded, but the intimacy in his eyes made me feel suddenly shy.

He took my hand. Squeezed it. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said, and looked away to avoid the intimacy in his eyes. But he tipped my chin back to meet him again.

“Honesty between us,” he said. “Just me and you. Okay?”

I looked at him, remembered the trust I’d already put him, and nodded. “Just nervous. It’s me and you—and we’re—well, you know.”

He smiled. “I know. But it’s me and you. And we don’t have a timetable.”

He led me to the bed and tugged the belt on the robe he’d let me borrow. It fell to the ground, revealing the long, black negligee I’d worn beneath it, a slick fall of bias-cut silk.

“You look . . . absolutely amazing.” The adoration in his eyes left little doubt of his sincerity.

“Thank you. You look pretty delectable yourself.”

He put his arms around me, drew me forward against the long line of his body, and kissed me. And this time, there was no restraint, no fear, no caution. His kiss was possessive—and also victorious.

We tumbled onto the bed, Jeff apologizing when he tangled in the silk that fell to my ankles. He rolled me atop him, plucked a rose petal from my hair, then pulled my mouth to his and kissed me again.

His lips were so soft, the kiss so tender. But somehow, missing something.

He drew back, pushed the hair away from my face. “Are you alright?”

I propped my arms on either side of his head. “Honestly, I still feel a little ungainly right now.”

He squinted, scratched at his temple. “I kind of know what you mean.”

He sat up, surveyed the room. “I think maybe this isn’t us. I mean, don’t get me wrong—I like romance as well as the next guy.” He picked up a handful of rose petals, and let them fall like water from his hand. “I’m just not sure this is our kind of romance.”

I looked around at the scene he’d prepared. It was all perfect, and right out of the romance playbook. But maybe not our particular romance playbook. “I think you’re right. What do we do?”

He looked over at me. “Do you think you can juggle?”

As it turned out, I could juggle. With some instruction.

He’d stuck to boxers, but I’d switched out the negligee for another “Jakob’s Quest” T-shirt for the lesson, and we’d reassembled in the living room, where we had plenty of space to maneuver.

Jeff was a marvel. Having seen him in full gaming frenzy, I didn’t doubt he had great hand-eye coordination. But watching him whip beanbags through the air in smooth and fluid arcs was seriously impressive.

He taught me to toss one, then two, and I was feeling optimistic. But tossing the beanbags he’d pulled from a drawer with syncopation just wasn’t happening.

I smiled at the pile of beanbags on the floor. “I can’t do this.”

“You can,” he assured me, standing behind, hands at my waist to ensure I was standing up right and kept my elbows at my side.

The beanbags hit the floor again . . . and then again . . . and then again.

And then, by some miracle of gravity and inertia, I had it. The bags moved like competing waves, slipping by each other—and somehow landing in hand, where I tossed them into the air again.

“I got it,” I said through clenched teeth, afraid to move. “I think I got it.”

“You got it,” he said behind me, his excitement a buzz of magic at my back.

And then . . . I didn’t have it.

One of the bags bounced awkwardly off my hand, and when I instinctively reached for it, I tossed another off course. It plopped into the fish tank with a gurgle, the fish darting to their corners like boxers at the bell.

Jeff punched both arms into the air. “Touchdown!” he screamed out, like I’d just made the winning throw at the Super Bowl.

I burst out laughing . . . and couldn’t stop. I laughed until tears flowed from the corner of my eyes, until I was on my knees on the carpeted floor, until my stomach was aching from it.

“The crowd goes wild!” Jeff shouted, running around the living room in a victory lap, pumping his arms in the air. He spiraled back to me, and held out his hand, fisted to hold an imaginary microphone.

“Ms. Keene, you’ve just scored your fourteenth winning touchdown in this record-setting game. How are you going to celebrate?”

Still hiccupping with laughs, I mopped at my cheeks and looked up at him, grinning foolishly. Grinning adorably.

This, I realized, was us. Not playing at a kind of movie and magazine romance that didn’t really interest us.

But laughing together. Learning together. Loving together. That was our particular romance. And it was a heady brew.

He was still crouched in front of me when I saw the sudden intensity in his eyes, that shift from humor to seduction. This time, I didn’t shy away.

I reached out, put a hand to his cheek, and swooned when he closed his eyes, lips curving with pleasure. I leaned forward, pressed my lips to his and kissed him softly. Just a small kiss, a small enticement.

He opened his eyes, surprise on his face. “You’ve never kissed me like that.”

I frowned. “Like what?”

“Like you needed to do it.”

Love swamped me, ferocious in its desire to make him see what I’d known for a very long time. That he’d always been the only one, even if I’d denied it.

I put my hands on his face, met his gaze. “I need you. I’ve always needed you. I just didn’t allow myself to admit it.”

He growled low in his throat, and his mouth was on mine before I’d even processed the sound. It was less a kiss than a battle, and we both intended to win.

We pulled clothing with animal ferocity, tearing at them like they were burning us alive. I found his elastic waistband and released him, and he fell, heavy and hard, into my hand.

“Jesus, Fallon,” he said against my mouth, as I handled him well and thoroughly, his body fairly vibrating with pleasure. “I need to be inside you.”

He stripped me of the clothing that remained and stared down at me.

“Jeff?”

He held up a finger. “Un momento. I’m savoring this moment. Committing it to memory.” He slid the flat of his hand down the middle of my body, then lifted it again to cup my breast.

My body sang with pleasure, eyes drifting shut from the sensations that I’d imagined for so long, finally real.

His mouth clamped on mine again, and he pressed me down to the thick carpet beneath us, his arousal between our bodies, eager for action. With hands and fingers he teased and entreated, his kisses brutal. I dug fingers into his back, pulling him closer.

“Jeff. I need you.”

He growled, low in his throat, and without argument or delay, spread his body over mine and thrust powerfully. He made a noise that sounded like relief, but relief wasn’t on his mind, not for me.

Sweet and geeky Jeff, lover of games, knew how to move. Each nearly brutal motion rode the line between pain and pleasure as his mouth tortured mine. Our magicks rose again, keeping pace as pleasure swamped us, and exploding through the room when we cried out the other’s name.

It was twenty minutes before I could feel my legs again. I glanced at him beside me, smiled. “I’m not sure how we’re going to improve on this.”

He didn’t even pause. “I have several very specific ideas.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, and had the sense he’d been saving that response for a very long time.

“Oh?” I turned to my side to face him, propping myself on an elbow. “And what ideas are those?”

“Costumes.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Princess Leia. Wonder Woman. Silk Spectre. Mystique. Hit Girl. So many options.”

“I’m not putting on a costume to satiate your prurient fantasies,” I said, lying back on the floor again.

And then I thought about who he was, and who I was, and our kind of romance. “But if you’re willing to play Bruce Wayne, I might reconsider.”

He was. So I did.

Read on for a special preview of

WILD THINGS

the Chicagoland Vampires novel

coming in February 2014!

Midnight Rider

Mid-February

Chicago, Illinois

Within the last ten months, I’d become a vampire, joined Chicago’s Cadogan House, and become its Sentinel. I’d learned how to wield a sword, how to bluff a monster, how to fall, and how to get back up.

Perhaps most of all, I’d learned about loyalty. And based on the magic that was pouring through the House’s first-floor hallway, I hadn’t been the only one who’d taken that particular quality to heart.

Dozens of Cadogan’s vampires stood in the hallway outside the office of our Master, Ethan Sullivan, waiting for a call, for a word, for a plan. We stood in our requisite Cadogan black with our katanas at our sides because Ethan—our Liege and my lover—was preparing to run.

“Out of one fire and right into another,” said the attractive blond vampire beside me. Lindsey was a member of Cadogan’s guard corps and a skilled and capable fighter, but tonight she looked, as usual, more like a fashionista than a century-old vampire guard. She’d left her suit jacket downstairs and had matched her satin-striped black tuxedo pants with a white button-down and four-inch stiletto heels.

“Do they actually think we’d just let them take him?” she asked. “That we’d let them arrest him—our
Master
—right there in front of the House?”

An hour ago, a Chicago Police Department detective—fortunately, one of our allies—had come calling, advising us that the city’s prosecutor had obtained a warrant for Ethan’s arrest.

Ethan had killed Harold Monmonth, a powerful vampire from Europe who’d murdered two human guards before turning his sword on us. Ethan had acted in obvious self-defense, but violence had recently rocked the Windy City. Its citizens were afraid, and its mayor, Diane Kowalcyzk, was looking for someone to blame. She’d apparently managed to bring the prosecutor to her side.

That’s why Ethan was sequestered in his office with Luc, the captain of Cadogan’s guards, and Malik, the House’s second in command, making a plan.

Detective Jacobs suggested Ethan seek refuge with the Breckenridges, a family of shape-shifters who lived in Loring Park, a suburb outside Chicago. That meant he’d also be outside the mayor’s jurisdiction. The Brecks were über-wealthy, well connected, and politically powerful. That was a powerful combination and enough, we hoped, to keep the mayor from using him as a sacrificial lamb.

Papa Breck, the family patriarch, was a friend of my father, Chicago real estate mogul Joshua Merit. I’d gone to school with some of the Breckenridge boys and had even dated one of them. But the Brecks had no love for vampires, which was part of the reason for the closed-door negotiations.

Ethan was the other reason. He was nearly four centuries old, and he had the stubbornness to match his age. Going gently into that good night wasn’t his style, but Luc and Malik wanted him safely away. It had been a long winter for the House—including Ethan’s premature demise and resurrection—and we didn’t need any more drama. We certainly didn’t trust Kowalcyzk and feared turning him over to a justice system that seemed to be rigged against us.

The door had been closed for an hour. Voices had been raised, and the disagreement between Ethan and his soldiers spilled tense magic into the hallway. That was my particular point of contention. I was Cadogan’s Sentinel, but I hadn’t been allowed in the office. The words “plausible deniability” had been thrown around—right before the door had been shut in my face.

“The mayor knew there’d be trouble,” I said. “The CPD already said Ethan acted in self-defense. And we just handed McKetrick to them on a silver platter. The city has absolutely nothing to complain about where we’re concerned.”

The detective’s warning had come only hours after we’d managed to prove McKetrick, the city’s now former supernatural liaison, was the source of the riots that had spread violence, destruction, and fire around the city. You’d think that would have put us in the mayor’s good graces. Alas, no.

“They won’t stay away forever,” I said. “Jacobs wouldn’t have warned us if he didn’t think they were serious. And that doesn’t give us many options. Ethan flees, or we have to fight.”

“Whatever their next move, the House will be ready,” Lindsey said. “We just have to scoot Ethan out of here.” She checked a delicate gold watch. “Not much time before sunrise. This is going to be close.”

“Papa Breck could still say no,” I pointed out, wrapping my arms around my knees. He and Ethan were different sups, but equally stubborn.

But Lindsey shook her head. “Not if he’s smart. Arresting a vampire for a bullshit reason isn’t far from arresting a shifter for a bullshit reason. If Papa Breck doesn’t take a stand now, he’ll put the Pack at risk. But if he does take a stand?” She clucked her tongue. “Then he wins, double or nothing. We’ll owe him a favor,
and
he’ll have stood up to Kowalcyzk. That reinforces his power, and it’s just—”

Before she could finish, the office door opened.

Luc and Malik emerged, Ethan behind them. All three were tall and bore the toughened shoulders of men in charge, but the physical similarities ended there.

Luc had tousled blond-brown hair and preferred snug jeans and well-worn boots to Ethan’s and Malik’s exquisite suits. Since Ethan’s welfare fell under his jurisdiction, Luc’s ruggedly handsome features were tight with concern.

Malik had cocoa skin, closely cropped hair, and pale green eyes that thoughtfully took in the hallway of vampires. Malik was reserved, careful, and unquestionably respected by the House. But like Luc, he also didn’t look thrilled with the circumstances.

And then there was Ethan.

He was built like an athlete—long and lean, with taut muscles and a body that fit perfectly into his trim black suit. His hair was straight, shoulder length, and golden, framing a face so gorgeous it might have been sculpted by a master artist. Straight nose, honed cheekbones, lush mouth, and eyes as sharp and green as flawless emeralds. Ethan was as alpha as they came, protective and pretentious, intelligent and strategic, and stubborn enough to match me well.

We’d had our own false starts, but we’d finally found a clear path to each other. That might have been the biggest miracle of all.

Ethan’s forehead was pinched in concern, but his eyes gave away nothing. He was the Master of our House; he didn’t have the luxury of self-doubt.

A dozen vampires jumped to their feet.

“I’ll be traveling to the Breckenridge estate,” Ethan announced. “Cadogan vampires do not run. We do not hide. We do not scurry into the dark. We face our problems—head on. But this House has been through much of late. I have been asked, for the sake of the House, to consider making myself scarce. I have agreed to do so—as a temporary measure.”

The tension in my chest eased, but not by much. He clearly wasn’t thrilled with the plan.

“In the meantime, we’ll try to put this ugly business to bed. The House’s lawyers will address the warrant. Malik has a friend in the governor’s office, and he’ll reach out to determine if the governor can encourage Mayor Kowalcyzk to act reasonably.”

That was news to me, but then again, Malik was the quiet sort. And I didn’t think he was the type to call in a political favor unless absolutely necessary.

“You’ll take Merit to the Brecks’?” Lindsey asked.

“Assuming she can fit it into her schedule,” he said.

Drama or not, there was always time for snark in Cadogan House.

“I’ll manage,” I assured him, “although I hate to leave my grandfather here.”

My grandfather was Chicago’s former supernatural liaison—emphasis on the “former”—but he and his employees, Catcher Bell and Jeff Christopher, still helped the CPD with supernatural issues. Because he’d helped us investigate the riots, McKetrick had targeted him. Grandpa’s house had been firebombed, and he’d been caught in the explosion. He was recovering, but he was still in the hospital. He’d been more of a father to me than my actual father, and although he had people to protect him, I felt guilty leaving while he was out of service.

“I’ll check in on him,” Luc promised. “Give you updates.”

“In that case,” Ethan said, “we’ll leave shortly. Malik has the House. And as you know, he makes a very capable Master when I’m . . . indisposed.”

There were appreciative chuckles in the crowd. It wasn’t Malik’s first rodeo as Master; he’d held the job when Ethan hadn’t been among the living.

“I will be honest. This may not work. We are betting that Diane Kowalcyzk is politically ambitious enough to not cross the Breckenridge family. That gambit could prove incorrect. Either way, our relationship with the city of Chicago could get worse before it gets better. But we are, and we will remain, Cadogan vampires.”

He arched an eyebrow, a habit he used frequently and usually with good effect. “Of course, those Cadogan vampires should be at work right now, not eavesdropping outside their Master’s office.”

Smiling and appropriately chastised, the vampires dispersed, offering good-byes to their Liege as they passed. Margot, the House’s brilliant chef, squeezed my hand, then headed down the hallway toward the kitchen.

Malik, Luc, Lindsey, and I stepped inside Ethan’s office. He looked over his staff.

“We have a brief reprieve,” Ethan said, “but the city may come knocking again.”

“The House is ready,” Luc said. “Lakshmi, however, is still on her way. We couldn’t convince her to delay.”

That was another sticky situation. Cadogan was no longer a member of the Greenwich Presidium, the organization that ruled North American and Western European vampire houses. Monmonth had been one of its members. The GP was no friend of Cadogan House, and they apparently weren’t willing to ignore the fact that we were now responsible for the deaths of two of their members. While we were no longer concerned about their opinion of us, they made powerful and dangerous enemies.

Lakshmi, one of the remaining GP members, was traveling to Chicago to render its verdict. It probably helped that she was one of the more commonsensical members of the GP, but it was odd that she was traveling while Darius West, the GP head, stayed under the radar in London. He’d been a political nonentity since an attack by a vampire assassin relieved him of his confidence, or so we surmised.

As it turned out, Lakshmi also was a friend to the Red Guard, the secret organization that kept watch on the Houses and their Masters. I was a new member, partnered with the guard captain from Grey House, Jonah. Lakshmi had provided insider information about GP shenanigans; in return for her help, I’d offered an unspecified favor. It was inevitable she’d attempt to collect; vampires were particular that way.

“Keep her out of the House,” Ethan said. “We aren’t members of the GP, and she has no business in our domain. She may have a legitimate claim to reparations, but that can be dealt with when we’ve dealt with the city.”

“I spoke with Lakshmi’s majordomo,” Luc said, “tried to winnow information out of her. She wouldn’t budge.”

“We’ll deal with it when we deal with it,” Ethan said. “This entire situation is fraught with hazard.”

Malik nodded. “It all comes down to who blinks first.”

Ethan’s eyes flattened. “Whatever happens, Cadogan House will not blink first.”

•   •   •

We lived in Chicago, which meant off-street parking spots were hard to come by and the objects of envy. The House’s coveted underground parking lot was accessible through the basement, so we headed downstairs. Ethan keyed the security pad at the door and stepped inside the basement but, when the heavy door closed behind us, dropped his duffel and grabbed my hand.

“Come here,” he said, voice heavy with desire. He didn’t wait for my response, but caught me by surprise, his mouth on mine, his hands at my waist, suddenly insistent.

I was nearly out of breath when he finally released me.

“What was that?” I barely managed to ask.

Ethan brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “I had need of you, Sentinel.”

“You’ve got me,” I assured him with a smile. “But at the moment, we have need of speed.”

“Not your best work,” he cannily said, but he put a hand on my cheek and gazed into my eyes as if he might discover the world’s secrets there. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m nervous about leaving,” I admitted.

“You’re worried about your grandfather.”

I nodded. “He was asleep when I called. He’ll understand—he always does. I just wish I didn’t have to ask him to be understanding.”

Ethan kissed my brow. “You are a good granddaughter, Caroline Evelyn Merit.”

“I’m not sure about that. But I’m trying.” Sometimes, that was the best a girl could do.

I gestured toward the gleaming silver bullet that sat in the House’s visitor spot, the antique Mercedes roadster Ethan had bought for me from the Pack leader himself. She was sweet and perfectly restored, and I called her Moneypenny. She was also still registered in Gabriel’s name, which seemed a better transportation option than taking Ethan’s car. But since he had decades’ more driving experience than me—and we were in a hurry—I held out the keys.

“Shall we?”

Ethan’s eyes widened with delight. He’d been attempting to buy Moneypenny for years and had probably wanted to slide behind the wheel for even longer.

“If we’re going to run,” he said, taking the keys from me, a spark jumping across our fingertips as they brushed, “we might as well escape in style.”

Sometimes that was the best a vampire could do.