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  • Home > Chloe Neill > Chicagoland Vampires Series > Blade Bound (Chapter 49)      Page
  • Blade Bound(Chicagoland Vampires #13)(49) by Chloe Neill
  • “We don’t have any evidence of that at this time, Your Honor. The wards weren’t tripped until the snowfall.”

    “You said a delusional vampire attacked Merit?” the mayor asked. “When was this, and why wasn’t it reported to me?”

    “The vampire, by all appearances, was emotionally unstable,” my grandfather said. “He attacked Merit night before last. We had no reason at that time to believe the attack was anything more than the action of a sick man.”

    She gestured toward the window. “And now the snow. How are they connected?”

    “We have no reason to believe they’re related at this time.”

    “They’re both magic,” Lane said, crossing his arms over his tablet and exuding haughty skepticism.

    “We aren’t saying they won’t ultimately prove to be related,” my grandfather said. “Just that we haven’t found the common thread yet. The humans’ identities were only released to us an hour ago, so we haven’t been able to research or interview them completely.” He gave Lane a none-too-friendly glance.

    “Your office opens at dusk,” Lane said, with superior tone.

    “Yours doesn’t,” my grandfather said.

    “Gentlemen.” The mayor’s tone was crisp, her gaze narrowed at my grandfather. “If this is a supernatural activity, it remains under your jurisdiction. Lane, you will provide Mr. Merit with information as it is gathered.”

    Lane looked prepared to mutter behind her back, but tapped something on his tablet.

    “Thank you, Madam Mayor.”

    “Don’t thank me yet, Mr. Merit. That means this remains your problem. Determine the cause and correct it. And if it is that woman . . .” She paused, clearly working to control her anger. “We will deal with her as is appropriate for a traitor, a murderer, a sociopath.” Her gaze lifted again. “Is that understood?”

    My grandfather nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

    “The media,” the aide prompted, gaze on his tablet, and the mayor nodded.

    “Reporters will, of course, be contacting all of you for comment. For the time being, please direct those inquiries to our public relations staff. We may want you to speak to the public later. But I would prefer for these matters to be investigated and addressed before that becomes necessary. Is that understood?”

    “Perfectly, ma’am.”

    “Then you’re dismissed,” she said. “Keep us apprised and keep the city safe.”

    Easier said than done.

    • • •

    It was still snowing when we stepped into the street again. The temperature had dropped a little since we’d been inside, but that was probably due to the cooling night, not any magic by Sorcha—or anyone else. Still not cold enough for the snow to stick, although the sidewalk and streets gleamed with water.

    My grandfather held out a hand, watched dime-sized flakes float into his palm, melt. “There are things I wouldn’t have thought I’d see in this or any other lifetime. Magical snow is definitely one of them.”

    “That went better than I’d have thought,” Ethan said. “Much less blame assigning than I thought she’d do.”

    “She’s learning,” my grandfather said. “And I’ll give her credit for that. But it’s hard to say how long it will last.”

    “As long as the city stays mostly safe,” Catcher said, pulling out his phone. “If it gets worse, she’ll look for someone to blame.”

    “The aide’s willing to hang us now for not having all the answers,” Ethan said.

    “Lane is an impatient man,” my grandfather agreed. “But if our office is to be seriously considered the arbiter of magical issues, it’s fair for us to demand we resolve it. That’s chain of authority.”

    “It’s politics,” Catcher muttered.

    “That, too.” My grandfather glanced around, settling his gaze on a line of brightly colored food trucks lined up in the Daley Center Plaza across the street: Spotted Dogs, which served gourmet hot dogs, Pizzataco, which served a pizza-taco hybrid, and Coriander Creamery, which served supposedly “gourmet” ice cream that mostly involved chopped herbs and flowers that didn’t have any business in hot fudge sundaes or sugar cones. In my humble opinion.

    “Is anyone hungry?” he asked.

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire