Natalya looked over the patrol team. There were five of them, Blake being the only human. They all looked like they’d been in a fight with a woodchipper.
Natalya turned to Lily. “Go to the penthouse.”
Lily didn’t move, instead staring at the glassy-eyed Blake. She was bleeding from two deep wounds on her neck, the flow only stifled by Flea pressing a blood-soaked cloth against it.
Natalya grabbed Lily’s arm, claiming her attention. “Now.”
Though it was past dawn, it was only just that. And if there were vampires in the area powerful enough to rake through a patrol team this effectively, that was a serious cause for concern. Lily needed to go somewhere safe.
Natalya focused at the thought. Evie was still asleep.
“What happened out there?” Natalya turned back to Blake and Flea when Lily was gone. Blake was barely upright, her grip on Flea growing weak. He looked to have taken a beating himself, but though his clothes were bloody, there were no visible injuries. The sídhe healed quickly.
“Bunch of vampires cornered us,” Blake said, leaning against Flea. The act seemed more mandatory than elected.
“Chains or ferals?” Natalya asked. Blake scoffed, and Flea looked bleak.
“Neither,” he said. “Night. Really close to the high-rise too. They were about to go to ground for the day when we ran into them. They seemed pretty insistent on not being spotted.”
“Casualties?” Natalya eyed the other bleeding patrol members. Her expression turned grim. “By the look of it, they took out a few of you. With you still breathing, I assume they ran off.”
“No casualties.” Flea brushed a loose strand of hair behind Blake’s ear. “And it’s hard to run with your knees shredded by silver bullets.”
Blake smiled weakly, the expression turning into a pained wince when Flea was tossed a fresh cloth and started cleaning the bite wound on her neck.
“Yeah, but guns aren’t exactly subtle,” Blake said. “Once they noticed it wasmehindering their ability to make a run for it, they focused on tearing my throat out. Didn’t care for that kind of attention, to be honest.”
Patrol humans were an essential part of Court. Most of its supernatural members were barred from human residences unless invited inside. Having humans in the field was necessary. But sometimes, casualties occurred.
Blake would be more than just a casualty. She was one of the best markswomen among the Chains, counting both human and supernatural members.
“We got the worst scrapes, so we left the others to take the Night bastards to the cells.” Flea fidgeted, a common enough behavior for him. The distinct lack of eye contact was not.
Natalya narrowed her eyes. “Is there a problem I need to know about?”
Flea was looking anywhere else than at her. Blake scoffed again.
“One of the vamps asked for you specifically,” Blake said to Natalya. “Or, rather, he wanted to see the ‘demon whore who rules the Chains.’ Flea isn’t comfortable repeating that anywhere you might flay him for it.”
Natalya let out a mocking huff. She’d heard worse monikers. But the request to see her was an odd one. Catching Night vampires hunting within the territory was common enough, but they never requested meetings with the Chains rulers. Theymostly just cried or cursed as they were silvered and thrown into a cell.
And Night vampires were never found in Chicago. They didn’t dare come so close to the high-rise. It suggested they were there with a purpose. Maybe they were looking for something. Or someone. Perhaps a woman they’d already tried, and failed, to capture once.
“Go to the infirmary, all of you,” Natalya said. “You’re no use to me if you bleed out on the club floor. And we just cleaned. You’re making a mess.”
The patrol group laughed grimly. Even Blake. Though she stopped when she noticed Natalya still looked serious.
“You’re not actually going to talk to him, are you?” Blake said.
“He asked for me specifically. With how close he and his group were to the high-rise, their presence is a message. I’d rather hear it directly from his lips than through an interrogation filter.”
“What if it’s a trap of some sort?” Flea asked.
Natalya snarled, using the noise to mask her unease as she started to walk off. “Then I’ll tear him to pieces for it.”
The cells below the Court were a frequently used section of the high-rise. It was filled with criminals, ferals, and members of other Courts kept as either prisoners or simply just in place until they could be returned to their homes for judgment. Many of Varro’s soldiers had spent some unpleasant months there while she and Aleksander tried to convince Varro that maintaining conflict with the Chains would bring nothing but suffering to everyone involved.
The vampire who wanted to talk to her was a young one—at least visually. According to the reports from the patrol members who brought him in, he’d moved with a speed that showed significant age. He was probably at least a few centuries old.
