House Rules - Chloe Neill Page 0,35
the El back to the suburbs—hours ago. Anticipating guards and metal detectors, I left my sword and dagger in the car.
Outside the building I looked up, and my nerves kicked into overdrive. The Daley Center was an intimidating building—a huge Federal-style structure marked by columns that ran halfway up the building like a stone crown.
“Come here often?”
My heart skipped a beat at the break in the silence, until I looked beside me at the man who’d made it. It was Jeff, hands in his pockets and a rather large grin on his face.
“What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “I decided you needed backup.”
Jeff was a shape-shifter and undoubtedly strong; I’d seen him fight, although I’d never actually seen him shift. Not that I was hoping for a zoological throwdown between Jeff and McKetrick inside the Daley Center.
We walked around the building to the plaza alongside it, where an enormous sculpture by Picasso stared out into the night. The steel glowed rust-red in the spotlights, and arced into the sky like a robotic insect. Behind it stood three huge flagpoles that had already been stripped of their canvas for the evening.
As we walked across the plaza, I felt suddenly small: a single impotent vampire in the midst of a human empire that wasn’t much concerned about my survival.
“You’re okay?” Jeff asked.
I nodded. “I’m fine. Just nervous.”
“I can go up with you, if you want.”
I shook my head. “It’s better if you stay here. I don’t want him to feel like he’s been cornered, and I don’t want to put you in his line of fire. I’ll be fine. It’s just the anticipation. I’m sure my gumption will kick in once I get to his office.” It had better, because McKetrick had things to answer for, and this wasn’t the time to be a shrinking violet.
Nerves on edge, we walked into the marbled main lobby, past the various homages to Richard Daley and toward the security desk. A man and woman with tidy hair and wearing security ensembles looked up.
“I’m Merit,” I said. “I’m here to see John McKetrick in the Office of Human Liaisons?”
If my name rang a bell, they didn’t seem to care. The man read off a floor number, then directed me to metal detectors, X-ray machines, and security gates. Good thing I hadn’t brought my weapons.
Jeff and I walked toward them, and he squeezed my hand. “You can do it.”
I nodded. “If I’m not back in an hour, call someone.”
He chuckled and pulled off a surprisingly cocky expression. “Mer, if you aren’t back in half an hour, I’m coming to get you myself.”
“They have guns,” I reminded him, but he just smiled.
“I’m a shifter.”
My backup plan in place, I blew out a breath and walked toward the gauntlet.
* * *
McKetrick’s office was on the fourth floor, tucked between a mayoral staff office and a traffic courtroom.
The door to his office bore his name and position in gold foil letters. I wanted to key the glass and scrape them off, but I managed to hold myself back.
I was secondarily glad my fear was giving way to anger. Anger was so much easier to bear.
Inside, I found an empty reception desk and an open door. I walked to the doorway and found McKetrick standing in front of a window, looking out over the dark plaza with a mug in hand.
He looked back at me and smiled thinly, the scars on his face even more jarring in person than they had been on television. His skin looked uncomfortably tight in places and paper-thin in others. There seemed little doubt they caused him pain.
“Merit. So nice of you to come by and wish me well.”
I glanced mildly around the office. “So this is where Mayor Kowalcyzk is keeping you: in your own little office behind a mask of legitimacy.”
“I have my bona fides,” he said. “Unlike some.”
“I’m a duly registered vampire,” I assured him. “I can show you my card if you don’t believe me.”
Smiling, he walked back to his desk and took a seat, clearly enjoying the repartee.
“You know what your problem is, Merit? You think you’re better than the rest of us. I know what vampires think—that you’re an evolutionary advancement, a genetic mutation. But being a vampire doesn’t make you special. It makes you a pest.” He linked his hands together on his desktop and leaned forward. “And I’m here to protect the city from your particular specimen of vermin.”
“You’re a new brand of racist.”
“I’m a man with a