Shadowed Steel (Heirs of Chicagoland #3) - Chloe Neill Page 0,98

I agreed. “I can’t guarantee anything. None of us can. But I’m in the best position to stop this, so I’m going to try my damnedest.”

She put her head on my shoulder. “Sometimes I wish you were a lazy-ass slacker.”

I acknowledged the little knot of fear in my gut. “Sometimes I do, too.”

* * *

* * *

I went downstairs wearing black—jacket to leggings to boots—accented by the bright red of my katana scabbard. And got a wolf whistle for my trouble.

“You clean up good,” Connor said, snatching me toward him with a hand at my waist. He kissed me solidly, left me more than a little breathless.

“You’re in a good mood,” I said. He wasn’t dressed for combat, but then shifters rarely were.

“I’m feeling optimistic.”

The monster lifted its metaphorical head. And instead of trying to wrestle control from me, asked me a question.

please?

I considered. Clive and the others already thought I was damaged or different, so fighting with exceptional skill wasn’t going to change that. With one caveat. Can you keep my eyes from changing?

Silence, then: will try

If you can prevent that, I told it, I’ll invite you out when the time is right.

There was thrill in its answer, and delicious warmth as it settled into bone and muscle. No friction between us, just ease and readiness for action. It had wiped away the lingering nerves, the jitteriness of adrenaline, leaving only calm behind.

I closed my eyes, breathed in deeply, exhaled hugely.

“I should be the only one who makes you sound like that.”

I glanced at Connor, grinned. “We’re going to fight together. The monster and me. In public.”

“Good.”

“It’s just—I’m worried about my eyes.”

“Still green now. I’ll signal you if they change.” He stepped to me and tipped up my face, kissed me well and properly. “You’ll be careful.”

“Yes. But if it comes down to me and Clive and a katana, I take him on my own.”

“Of course. And I’ll have your back. Let’s send this asshole home.”

It was my entire agenda.

* * *

* * *

Connor and I met Petra, Gwen, and Theo outside Cadogan House shortly before midnight. We’d parked in front of the House; they’d parked a few blocks away, to keep our vehicles from being too noticeable.

My father had spared no expense making Cadogan look exactly like Petra had promised: soft music flowed from speakers on the lawn, and the grounds were lit for a gathering, with path lights and torches burning.

“It really does look like a party,” Gwen said. “It’s beautiful.”

“You’re welcome to a tour when this is all done. Your people in position?”

“And in contact,” Gwen said with a nod. “They’ve got a wagon waiting for transport. Any contact from Levi?”

I shook my head, but knew in my gut he would come. He may have already been close.

“Clive?” I asked Gwen.

“Released at dusk into the custody of the AAM. According to witnesses, he remains very, very angry at you and had a very heated discussion with Ms. Heart outside the building. And I may have accidentally told him you were having a kind of victory party tonight.”

“Excellent thinking,” I said with a smile. The angrier he was, the more mistakes he’d make.

“And since they both know about it and could be nearby,” Gwen said, “let’s get inside.”

We walked down the path to the front of the House, were greeted in the foyer by Luc and Lindsey, who’d returned from New York. He looked every bit the cowboy, from the jeans and boots—an exception to the Cadogan black dress code—to the tousled dark brown hair.

I made the introductions.

“Detective,” Luc said, stepping forward with a handshake. “Good to meet you.”

“Same here,” she said and gave Lindsey a nod.

“We’re going to take you downstairs into the guards’ room. You’ll have full access to the security feeds down there. Kelly, our guard captain, can tie you in to your unit comms.”

“Good enough,” Gwen said and glanced back at us. “Good luck.”

“And to you.”

“Be careful,” Theo said, squeezing my hand before he and Petra followed them.

I blew out a breath, tried to calm my nerves. I knew I’d be fine once things were underway. It was the waiting that was hardest. The anticipation of what was to come.

“She won’t hurt you,” Connor said, and I looked back at him, nodded.

“I know. But I don’t know her. I don’t know what she’ll say, or what she’ll want, or what she’ll demand of me. That’s what makes me nervous.”

“Alaska,” Connor said, wrapping me in his arms. “If all else fails, we’ll go to

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