“I guess,” I answer cautiously. I’m really not sure what to make of this woman. But we all file into the elevator and ride the few stories back down to ground level.
The moment we step out, all four of them slip on specialized sunshades. Out on the sidewalk, Roman pulls Juliet into his arms, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I’ll see you in an hour,” he says, and it sounds like a vow.
Damn.
I blush a little and look away. Is this how other people feel when they see Ares and me together?
“See you soon, Lana,” Harry promises, and his words sound pointed, as if he’s reiterating to Roman that there is a short time frame he’s committing.
“See you in an hour,” I say, nodding to the three men as they walk away.
Juliet and I set out in the opposite direction. I’m not exactly going to walk all the way back to Brooklynn, but we might as well head in that direction.
“You all are awfully active, considering it’s the middle of the day,” Juliet notes as she squints against the bright light.
“I take it Chicago operates more fully during the night?” I question.
She nods. “I mean, things still come up, and we deal with shit during the day, but we’re definitely more nocturnal there.”
I nod. “I’d never really thought about it before, that we’re pretty flexible here.”
“Especially you,” she says pointedly, looking over at me.
I’m not wearing any sunshades. I don’t need them. “Let’s just say it’s better if you don’t ask too many questions.” I raise an eyebrow.
She smirks at that. “Story of my life, babe,” she says without skipping a beat. “Trust me, I know a little about not asking too many questions.”
I find a smile tugging on my own lips. I can’t quite figure Juliet out, but there’s something kind of… familiar about her. And I think it’s a little bit of myself I see. “There’s definitely something up with Chicago, isn’t there? But for some reason, I feel like you wouldn’t tell me.”
Suddenly, lightning flashes through my brain, and I stop in my tracks. Someone bumps into me from behind, granting me a curse, but I don’t even notice.
“Chicago,” I breathe as Juliet stops and looks back at me with confusion. “Fuck.Opheliais from Chicago.”
Juliet studies me with wary eyes, but she doesn’t hide it well. She’s keeping something from me. She knows something, but she doesn’t know how much I know either.
“I’m just figuring out that there are other things out there besides vampires,” I blurt, instantly in a hurry to explain so that I can ask. “The necromancer, a lightning wielder, an influencer, and I’m not talking about the social media kind. There… are there a lot of other kinds of supernaturals in Chicago?”
Juliet’s expression is filled with caution. I see a million thoughts roll through her eyes.
And that is answer enough for me. I won’t make her say it. I won’t make her betray her city.
“Look, I’m going to extend some trust here,” I say, talking rapidly. I start walking again, and she follows by my side. “My fiancé hasn’t been himself for a bit now. He’s been doing… dangerous things he wouldnevernormally do. Turns out my former best friend, who really,reallyhates vampires, did something to him. She somehow used this supernatural influence she has on him and made him do these things against his will. And I just remembered that Ophelia is from Chicago.”
Juliet takes a second to process this information. I glance her way to see her gaze fixed on the crowd ahead, but she’s not really seeing it. She presses her lips in a thin line, debating something. “What’s her last name?” she finally asks.
“Bennett,” I answer. I’ve thrown all caution to the wind. I’m putting way too much trust in this woman I just met, but desperate times make people desperate.
Juliet pulls a cell phone out from her back pocket. She taps the screen a few times, then holds it to her ear. She waits three seconds before someone picks up the other end.
“Sigrid,” she says. There’s a comfort to the way she speaks. Whoever she’s talking to, they’re close. “I’ve got a question about someone. Do you know of any Bennetts?”
There’s a few moments of silence while Juliet listens to the woman on the other end.
“Does the name Barbara Bennett sound familiar?” Juliet asks me.
“I’m pretty positive that was Ophelia’s grandmother’s name,” I say, and my heart rate doubles.
Juliet relays this information to Sigrid and continues to listen for a minute. “How about an Ophelia Bennett?” Once more, she listens. “Okay, thanks. Love you, too.”
