Lulu surveyed the room like a cop reviewing a crime scene, and I all but held my breath while she did it. But then she sighed and walked to the kitchen, righted the bin, and began putting glass chunks into it. “You’re barefoot,” she said. “Stay where you are. I’ll get this. Kicking is for the gym, not the loft.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Last thing you need is stitches before you go to the principal’s office.”
I snorted, because she was right. That was exactly how it felt. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
“So I don’t freak out about it, yes.”
I looked back at her, saw the worry in her eyes. And felt immediately guilty that I’d missed that last night—and had been entertaining a monster of indeterminate supernatural origin in the meantime.
“It’s going to be fine,” I said.
“You can’t promise that,” she said. “And they aren’t here to take your word for it that you’ll be a good little vampire. Misogynist pricks. They’re going to pick a fight with you.”
“I know. I promise I won’t take any unnecessary risks, and I won’t be going out there alone. Arrogant as they may be, there’s only so much they can do.” Or so I hoped. I looked back at her. “Where are you going tonight?”
“To hang with Mateo at the furnace. Why?”
“Stay with him, stay away from the loft, until you hear from me. Just in case.”
“Okay,” she said after a moment. “I’d thought about staying the night over there.”
I lifted my brows. “Staying at Mateo’s?”
“It was an idea,” she said slyly. “If the mood strikes.”
“Good for you,” I said with a smile.
Lulu chucked a big piece of glass into the bin, then used a wet paper towel to clean up the rest of the mess I’d made. And I didn’t care for that metaphor.
Across the room, my screen rang.
Lulu glanced at it. “Are you in for Petra?”
“Sure,” I said, and she tossed over my screen. I managed to catch it, avoiding another round of spilling things across the floor.
“Elisa,” I said, answering it. Her face popped on-screen, her dark hair pulled into a tail. “And you’re on speaker, so be clever enough for a crowd.”
“How about the Grove?” she asked.
Lulu’s brows lifted, then she looked at me with speculation. “The place in the burbs that does outdoor weddings?”
“Yeah. My cousin was married there,” Petra said. “She had eighteen bridesmaids.”
“Who needs eighteen bridesmaids?” I asked. “That’s horrifying.”
“A woman who wants a three-hour wedding ceremony.” Petra sighed hugely. “She organized them like a chorus and made them sing a song for her.”
“No way that happened.”
“Would you like to see the evidence? I can send you pictures. It was a beautiful ceremony . . . until the lightning storm.” Her voice was mild and pleasant, belied by the glimmer in her eyes.
“You ruined your cousin’s wedding with a lightning storm?” Lulu asked, and even she looked a little impressed.
“I didn’t ruin it,” said the aeromancer. “I just made it shorter.”
“What does the Grove look like?” I asked.
“There’s a pergola for outdoor weddings, a building where receptions are held, and a meadow behind, where brides take pictures with boots on or whatever. It’s atmospheric.”
“Not unlike your cousin’s wedding,” I said.
She grinned. “Yup. The place is yours if you want it. There’s nothing scheduled tonight, and the owner said she owed me one for getting my cousin’s people out of their building. They were ready to clean up and go home after the wedding.”
“Cost?”
“Free,” she said. “Due to that favor. I mean, if you trash the place, you have to clean it up. But otherwise free.”
I seriously hoped “trashing the place” wasn’t on the menu. The AAM couldn’t expect to come to Chicago and pull a stunt like that without consequences.
“I’ll have to get the AAM’s okay,” I said. “But if they’re good with it, it’s fine by me. It’s out of town, there’s open space, and it’s free. Thanks for doing the legwork.”
“You’re welcome,” Petra said. “Now, let’s discuss your entrance music.”
* * *
* * *
Cool as it might have been to walk in to my own theme song, we were trying to avoid attention, not attract it. And while I wasn’t going to kowtow to the AAM, I also wasn’t trying to provoke them further.
When Connor and Alexei gave me the thumbs-up for the Grove, I told the AAM. They agreed. They’d arrive at midnight; we’d arrive at eleven, an hour early.
Lulu came out as I put my screen away, tote bag over her shoulder. “I’m out like skinny jeans.”
“You’re wearing skinny jeans,” I pointed out.
“I’m wearing them ironically.” Petite as she was, she leaned up on tiptoes to kiss my cheek. “Be careful.”
“I will. Hey, before you leave, do you by chance have a cloak?”
Sighing woefully, she walked to the door. “You aren’t wearing a cloak.”
“I could pull it off.”
“You’d pull off nineties vampire princess goth. And that’s not a compliment.”
But the worry seemed to have drained from the hard set of her shoulders, which was what I’d wanted. I’d nudged too closely to the supernatural boundary she’d drawn, and that wasn’t fair to her.
It was time for vampires to learn some boundaries, too.
* * *
* * *
Vampires being vampires, how I presented myself at the meeting was essential. There must be black, there must be leather, there must be blades, and there must be ferocity.
Fortunately, I was well stocked.
I considered and discarded a trim suit, leggings and a military-style jacket, and a leather fighting ensemble. I couldn’t go in looking like a warrior, a fighter. They’d assume I’d already given up the argument and was ready to fight.
No, I needed to show authority. Power. I wasn’t a Master, but I was someone to be reckoned with.