“Did I?”
He clicked something, typed, clicked again. “Security cams say you did. You kept up with him, handled some shots and obstacles.”
That actually brightened my evening quite a bit. Compliments from Catcher were few and far between, because he was at least as much a perfectionist as my father and I. Their rarity made them more meaningful.
“The jump was a nice touch, too,” Jeff said, sitting down on his swiveling stool again. “But you might want to put a little more space between you and the bus next time.”
“The bus?” Ethan asked, stepping behind me.
“I had plenty of room,” I promised him, which was entirely true, if four inches counted as “plenty.”
“I’m mapping the route,” Catcher said to my grandfather, “so we can backtrack, pull any casings.”
“Excellent,” he said, then handed over the plastic bag to Jeff, who looked it over.
“You’ve also got some pretty good throwing skills,” he said. “We caught that shot at the perp on camera.”
Ethan’s eyebrows lifted again. “Throwing skills.”
“The dagger,” I explained. “It was a lucky shot, and that’s not false modesty. But it was kind of fun.” I really was going to have to talk to Malik about knife throwing.
Jeff nodded, unlocked a small metal cabinet, and placed the knife inside. “Were you able to get a shot of his face from the cameras?”
“Eh,” Catcher said. “I get motion, but not a lot of detail. You want to give me a summary, I’ll add it to the APB.”
“Six foot two or three, medium build. Muscular but lean. Red hair with some curl to it. Blue eyes. Pale skin. Human, and in good shape. Possibly not very experienced with supernaturals.”
“Why do you say that?” my grandfather asked.
“He had a gun and a Taser, used the latter on Nadia, the gun on me. He was smart enough not to use the gun first—knew it wouldn’t be entirely effective—but not experienced enough to use a blade or stake, which would have taken me out altogether.”
My grandfather nodded. “Good observation. There’s a task force on the Circle—they come together when new information arises—and we’ll get the description to them, see if it rings any bells in the organization.”
“Malik also has a list of organizations he’s gleaned from his financial review,” Ethan said. “He’ll get them to you. He’s confirmed the Circle’s close financial ties to Navarre, but I think we can agree this has moved well beyond finances.”
“He’s already sent them,” Catcher said, tapping another screen.
Curious, I hopped into the van and leaned behind Catcher to check the list. As Malik had said, the companies were strings of three seemingly random letters. None consisted of names or words, at least not in English.
“Yeah, those aren’t exactly helpful,” I said. “‘The Circle, LLC’ would have been better.”
Catcher glanced at my grandfather. “What’s the end game here?”
“King being a Circle rival is the most likely motivation for the Circle’s hit on him. I suspect they wouldn’t get a financial return on taking out Nadia, which makes this punishment, pure and simple. A direct hit on Navarre House, showing what they’re able to do if Navarre doesn’t pay up, or successfully carry out their next assignment.”
“So they’ve got another project lined up,” Catcher said.
“That would be my take. It might be another hit on King, might be something else entirely.”
Ethan nodded. “They have to suspect Navarre can’t simply write a check.”
“Suggesting we’ll have to wrap up the Circle first,” Catcher said, “or someone’s going to lose people.”
“This is going to get worse before it gets better,” I said.
My grandfather nodded. “That’s quite possible.” Concern tightened his expression when he looked at me. “Catcher filled me in on Balthasar. You’re all right?”
The thought of it—the reminder of Balthasar—made my stomach twist. I didn’t want any more reminders. And I didn’t want him in my head.
“I’m fine. Frankly, it felt good to get out there just now, mix it up a little.”
My grandfather nodded, looked back at Ethan. “You’ve had no sign of him tonight?”
Ethan pulled out his phone, checked it. “Not as of yet, although he made an appearance outside the House, apparently to remind us he could.”
Everyone leaned forward as Ethan handed his phone around, showed them the grainy black-and-white of Balthasar.
“Tenacious, or crazy?” my grandfather asked, his tone somber.
“I’d suspect both,” Ethan said, tucking the phone away again after it made the round. “He essentially admitted to Merit that he wants the House, believes it’s his due.”
“Because he made you?” my grandfather asked.
“And I left him.”
My grandfather nodded, considered. “There any room there to draw him out? To force his hand?”
Ethan gave a smile, but there was nothing happy about it. It was pure predator, pure warrior, and very much vampire. “Your granddaughter has suggested there is. We’ll speak with you—with all of you,” he added, glancing at Catcher and Jeff, “when we’re ready to move.”