“Nothing we’ve been able to dig up so far,” Jeff said. “But the Librarian thinks he’s found some of the group’s research materials. They’re held by a private collector, but there’s a library in London that has microfiche of the pages. Some of them are online.”
The Librarian was Cadogan’s aptly nicknamed research and book specialist. He worked in the House’s extraordinary two-story library. I was green-eyed with envy for the job. Although ass-kicking definitely had its moments.
“The Librarian has reviewed some of them,” Jeff said, “and we’re working on getting copies of the entire archive. He’s found some general mentions of vampires, but no names.”
I glanced at Luc. “I’m surprised the GP didn’t jump on that—a cult torturing vampires.”
“I doubt this popped onto their radar,” Luc said. “This wasn’t a large-scale operation, but a cult in a very poor neighborhood.”
“We looked at Walford Abbey next,” Jeff continued. “Unfortunately, the building was destroyed in World War Two, and the monks have all died, so we’re still searching for records there. That’s as far as we’ve gotten tonight.”
“And we’ll let you get back to it,” Luc said, and we offered our good-byes to Jeff.
I glanced back at the spreadsheet, surveyed the data. “It might all match up,” I said. “He’d have known we’d check.”
“I’d be surprised if it doesn’t,” Luc said. “He’d have prepared.”
I looked back at Luc. “And for what, exactly? This isn’t a courtesy call.”
“No,” Luc agreed. “He’s got an agenda. And from his little display yesterday, you seem to be part of it.”
“Oh, good,” I said, smiling weakly.
“He’ll use you if he can. Hell, he’ll use any of us, I think, if he thinks it’ll hurt Ethan.”
“You think that’s why he’s here? To cause pain?”
“Why else? He couldn’t have thought he’d get a warm reception from Ethan. Ethan suggested revenge and power, and I think he’s probably right.”
“What a mess,” I said with a sigh. “Ethan hates to leave the House alone tonight, but my dad did help us. And Ethan’s not going to pass up an opportunity to talk to Reed.”
Luc grinned. “Nope. He’s a savvy one. And we won’t be alone. Me and Blondie”—that was Lindsey—“have done our fair share of supernatural butt-kicking. And we’ve got the sorcerers. You’ll have Brody. You should take your katana, although you probably can’t take it into the ball.”
My eyes widened. “I’m sorry—did you say ‘ball’?”
“Yeah. Reed’s party. It’s a ball. A full-on gala.” He glanced up at me, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Did you not know that?”
“No,” I said flatly. “No one mentioned that to me.” Probably on purpose.
As the child of wealthy parents, I’d seen fancy parties through stairway balusters and cracked doors. I’d grown into a jeans-and-Pumas girl, evolved into a boots-and-leathers girl, and preferred both to crinoline and Spanx.
I lifted my gaze to the ceiling, considered the garment bag in Ethan’s office, wondered what nightmare it held.
“If it’s any consolation,” Lindsey said, “all the cool kids will be there. The Schwartzes. The Lindenhursts. Michael Marlow and Todd Vanguard. They are very pretty. Tech billionaires or something, tall, dark, and handsome both, and very much in love.”
“I take it you’ve been reading the society pages again,” Luc said.
“It breaks up the bad news,” she said, and I couldn’t argue with that.
“Explain to me why people would spend money outfitting their houses and themselves for charity balls. Why don’t they just give that money to the charity?”
“That is a question for the ages, Sentinel. In the interim, make sure your fancy ball gown has a spot for your phone. Or take one of those little purse things you ladies carry.” He moved his fingers in the shape of a rectangle.
“A clutch?”
“That’s it.”
Lindsey chuckled. “Just call him Mr. de la Renta.”