Roaring Dawn: Macey Book 3 (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 10) (31 page)

Savina was momentarily startled at the reminder that her companion and the mayor both knew her by her professional name. Would the key to the city be engraved with her real name, or her professional name? Would she have a choice?

“Do you mean female friends? Girl friends? I’m afraid in my line of work, I don’t have much of a chance to…cultivate many of them. I…er…travel quite a lot,” Savina replied as she added two lumps of sugar to her coffee.

But she hoped, in the deepest part of her heart, that perhaps someday she and Macey might be friends. It would be refreshing and freeing to have a close friend—who wasn’t her lover—who understood what sort of life she and Max lived.

It would be so fun to have a female friend with whom she could talk about things like where to hide a stake on her person, or how to use a garter belt to secret vials of holy water, whether silver cross earrings would be effective at repelling vampires…or even to simply talk about what an idiot her lover could be. Even though the man in question would be Macey’s father.

And at the moment, she suspected Macey
might
just agree with her assessment. She smiled to herself as she stirred the sugar, then looked up to find Miss McGillicut watching her closely.

“And you?” Savina asked, quickly remembering the thread of the conversation—though how it had anything to do with getting the key to the city, she didn’t know. Unless the mayor was just trying to find out what sort of person she was before he made a decision, and had sent his assistant to evaluate her. “Do you have many close female friends? I should think so, living in a city like Chicago. You probably go to the cabarets and jazz clubs and dance all the time, don’t you?”

To her surprise, Miss McGillicut’s expression hardened. “I used to have a very close friend. And then she…changed. She became a different person, and no longer had time for me. She made different friends and began to do different things. She had a good job, and I couldn’t even find one that wasn’t working as a seamstress in a sweat shop.”

Savina didn’t know what to say. “I’m so very sorry. It’s difficult to lose a friend.”

“Especially since we’d been friends since we were young girls. We even moved to the city within months of each other. And then she just…left me. Left me behind.” Miss McGillicut shifted, digging in her pocketbook.

“That must have been very upsetting for you,” Savina replied.

“Very. But now, I’m in a much better position than she is. Look at me now,” Miss McGillicut said, a hard smile on her face. “She has no idea what she is missing.”

“I see.” Savina felt wildly uncomfortable with the turn of conversation. Surely the mayor hadn’t intended for this assessment meeting to deteriorate into a personal diatribe. “So, tell me about your work in the mayor’s office.”

“My work in the— Yes, right,” her companion replied. “My work is quite rewarding. Very rewarding. My dear,
dear
friend should be envious of me. She should even be frightened of me, really. I hold so much more power now.”

By now, Savina was acutely uncomfortable. “Right, then,” she said, seeking a way to permanently change the topic—or, better yet, to escape the situation—without also losing her chance with the mayor.

“She’ll regret what she’s done to me. She’ll realize she should have—”

“Uhm, Miss McGillicut, I really appreciate your time. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut our meeting short.” She gathered up her gloves and began to pull them on. Even a key to the city wasn’t worth this sort of awkwardness.

The woman next to her was smiling again, and she shifted closer to Savina. Something hard pressed into her side, and Savina looked down to find the nose of a small derringer making an ominous dent in the fabric of her skirt.

“Oh, no, that would never do. We have much, much more to talk about, Sabrina. I hope you don’t mind if I call you Sabrina. And please…you must call me Flora.”

TWENTY-THREE

~ A Cryptic Call ~

Macey would never admit it
, even if someone held a gun to her head, but having a few hours alone to rest and relax was exactly what she needed.

Especially since she hadn’t slept very well last night, after the great, awful revelation in the kitchen.

Grady knew her.

And he knew what she’d done—or tried to do.

How he’d hid the fury and loathing he clearly felt was a mystery—though she did remember that flash of irritation she’d noticed when they’d first seen each other at the photography exhibit. He’d disguised it well after that, but it had been there at first. She just hadn’t known what it was.

The thought made Macey feel even more disconsolate. He hated her.

But perhaps not as much as she hated herself.

Now, with everyone gone and herself alone at Grady’s place, she found it spectacularly painful to sit on the sofa and smell his scent on the pillow there, to see the photos strewn over his fireplace mantel and know she’d likely never see Linwood again, to see the selection of books about vampires—which they’d discussed the first night they’d met. There was no chance of getting past this.

Remembering the cold rage in his face made her stomach churn.
You’ve emasculated him. Castrated him.

It must be just as hellish for him to have her here as for her to be here. Yet here he was—putting himself in danger to help the Venators. To help her father.

But the thing that stuck in her mind, the fact she couldn’t keep from gnawing over, was how could he be the dauntless one? What made him dauntless? What made him special, and who was his “half”?

Max? Herself?

Oh, wouldn’t that be a bitter realization, a terrible irony, if Macey had destroyed their love—only to discover that it had been written that they were to be partners.

She closed her eyes and tipped her head back against the arm of the sofa. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she considered the selfish, foolish choices she’d made.

“But I was doing it for
him
,” she said aloud. “I didn’t want the same thing that happened to my mother to happen to Grady!”

Or the same thing that happened to my father to happen to me.

And yet it already had.

Macey lay there, stretched out on the sofa, miserable and grieving and furious with herself and the choices she’d made.

I can make decisions for no one but myself.

But it was too late now.

Grady—the man she’d known and loved—was gone. It was over.

And sometime in the next few days, she had to find and kill her best friend.

+ + +

Macey must have slept, for the telephone woke her. She opened her eyes, and the first thing she noticed in the darkening room was the clock on the mantel.

It was after seven o’clock.

She sat up quickly and looked around. Savina had said she’d be back in two or three hours, and she’d left just after one. The lunch had either gone far better than expected, or she’d ended up shopping at Marshall Field’s.

And where were Chas and Max? Neither had called all day?

Macey climbed off the sofa and stumbled to the telephone, which was still ringing shrilly. Maybe it was Savina, explaining why she was late. Or some news from Chas or Max.

“Hello?” she said.

“Grady?” said a strained female voice.

“No, it’s not—”

“Hi, Grady, it’s Sabrina Ellison.” The voice spoke over Macey’s correction, loudly and rapidly.

“He’s not here—” Macey stopped.
Sabrina Ellison?
It was definitely Savina’s voice, Grady knew her real name…what was going on?

“Listen, I’m in a bit of a pickle, and I know you’re just the one to help me out.” The tension in Savina’s voice vibrated over the telephone, and Macey went very still.

“What can I do?” she asked, her heart beating hard.

“I need you to come…come and help me.” Her voice, though tense, was steady. She rattled off an address that had Macey fumbling for a pencil and paper to write it down. Fortunately, newshawk Grady had plenty of both next to the phone. “I… It’s a little embarrassing what happened, but I ran into an old friend of—of someone named Macey—”

She stopped suddenly and there was a struggling sound and muffled voices from the other end. When Savina spoke again, her voice was a little unsteady—and angry. Underneath, Macey heard anger.

“Just come. Come alone. You must come alone, or… I need your help…I only have until half past eight before— Please help me—”

The phone line was cut off before the last word was out of Savina’s mouth. Macey stared at the silent instrument for a second before dropping it back onto its receiver.

That left her hardly more than an hour.

She swung into action, dashing upstairs to change and to equip herself with supplies and weapons.

She was racing down the stairs when the front door opened—good, reinforcements—but when she got to the bottom, her heart sank when she nearly ran into Grady.

“What is it? What’s happened?” he demanded.

“I have to go,” she said, rushing into the living room for her pocketbook. “It’s Savina. She’s in trouble. I’ve got to get there by half past eight.”

“What’s happened?” He dumped his satchel on the ground and strode over to block her way out of the living room. “You aren’t going to be going off without telling me—or anyone else—what’s going on. Unless Max and Woodmore already know?” He sounded really annoyed, and very determined.

Macey knew she could easily get past Grady—but that would entail putting her hands on him…and that might not be a good idea. Yet he was right. Of course she couldn’t go off without telling anyone what was happening or where she was going—and of course she had been planning to write a note.

She quickly told him about the phone call.

“Savina was calling for
me
?” he said, beginning to add a variety of objects—some innocent-looking, some clearly dangerous—in various place on his person. “Why would she be calling for me in particular?”

“I don’t know. But she knew she wasn’t talking to you—that was clear. I
think
she was supposed to be giving you a message, but the person with her didn’t know someone else answered the phone. Which means the message wasn’t really specifically for you. It was for—”

“I’m going,” he said flatly. “So we might as well be making a plan together and take advantage of the fact that we know more than the person on the other end of the phone line.”

Macey hesitated, but then she nodded. She had to put her personal feelings aside—and anyway, he was right. He’d already proven how “dauntless” he was.

“Savina said to come alone,” Macey warned.

Grady began to pack a large duffel bag. “There are ways around that, lass. Where did you say this place was?”

She tried to ignore the little offbeat thump of her heart when he called her “lass,” and told him the address. He called everyone “lass.” Even Savina.

“I know the place.” He smiled. It was a grim one, steely and yet satisfied. “Just give me a minute while I check something.” He went over to the massive wall map of Chicago that hung on the wall and stared at it for a few minutes, tracing streets with his fingers, while Macey wrote a note to Max and Chas.

When he was finished, Grady came over and scrawled a few sentences at the bottom of her note—“Telling them exactly where to find us”—and then she did something she never thought she’d do again: she drove off with Grady in his car.

+ + +

“This isn’t the address she gave,” Macey said when Grady parked.

In fact, the place they’d stopped was nowhere near the address Savina had given them. They were at a train yard that was long abandoned. Rusted-out locomotives and their cars sat unused on overgrown railways. A few decrepit buildings looked just as worse for wear. As Macey looked around, she saw two separate figures—tramps?—scuttling into the shadows.

Her panic was growing. It was past seven thirty, and they weren’t anywhere near the place. She had to have time to get in, figure out what was going on…who even knew whether Flora would keep to the timeframe Savina had given. They didn’t have time to spare.

“I know. But they’ll be watching the place, won’t they now? They’ll be making sure I come alone. We need to get you secretly inside before I make an appearance.”

“Right.”

That was the plan they’d agreed upon—well, that he’d insisted upon, and she hadn’t been able to argue him out of because it made sense. Grady would go in as if he’d received the message. But in the meantime, Macey would sneak in a different way and then… Well, they’d go from there. She’d find a way to take care of Flora once she saw what the woman had planned.

“But we’re more than six blocks away, and on the other side of the street.” She looked around unhappily.

Grady grinned as he yanked on the parking brake, and Macey’s heart did that sweet little
ka-thump
. For that instant, she saw the old Grady—the one who looked at her with laughing eyes. The one who knew her and loved her.

Then the memory was gone—for the grin wasn’t directed at her. It was for the adventure about to come.

“When you’re wanting to get into a building unnoticed,” he said coolly, “you have to look at it very differently than your average bloke. Even the architects who design the buildings…they don’t look at it the same way.”

“All right.” She climbed out of the car and met him on the other side. “So…we’re approaching on foot, and going to sneak in somehow through a rear window?”

“No.” He pointed to an old train tunnel as he slung a heavy bag over his shoulder. “We go in there.”

“Ah.” She was beginning to see. “So we follow that underground…to where? There aren’t any train lines that run toward Delancey Street.”

He was already walking across the street toward the building, his long legs leaving her behind. “You’re right about that. But there’s an underground creek that cuts across the block next to it. You see, the first rule of housebreaking is—you’re not using doors or windows. That’s for bloody pansies. And a sure way to find yourself apprehended.”

His brogue had suddenly appeared, and he wore a crafty, intense expression Macey had never seen before. It was almost as if he’d become a different person, or taken on a different personality.