“I have my shit together,” I muttered as we were led back toward the main building.
But right now that felt like a complete lie.
• • •
When we reached the visitors’ center, they called my grandfather, agreed to wait until he arrived. He was the city’s supernatural Ombudsman, after all. That put us squarely in his jurisdiction.
It took half an hour for him to arrive with Jeff in tow. No sign of Catcher, but Jeff and my grandfather looked irritated enough to fill Catcher’s usual quota.
“I don’t believe they need to be cuffed, gentlemen,” my grandfather said. “It’s your call, of course, but these two aren’t violent. They may not be especially smart, but they aren’t violent.”
The cops looked at each other; then the first cop looked at my grandfather. “You’ll vouch for them?”
“I will. She’s my granddaughter, and he’s her beloved. They both usually have more sense than this.”
There was a pause before the cops reached some agreement, stepped forward, and cut the zip ties. My wounded arm sang with pain, and I rolled it to release some of the tension.
“Might I have a word with my granddaughter?” my grandfather asked, and the cops shared a glance and stepped away.
My grandfather stared down at us, the disappointment clear in his face.
I hadn’t gotten in trouble much as a kid. I hated the feeling of it, the violation of trust, the sickening sense that I’d disappointed someone, the humiliation that came with having done something wrong. I hadn’t been the type of child who handled it well.
I felt doubly sickened tonight by the fact that I’d disappointed the relative I trusted most of all, and that disappointment was compounded by anger at Ethan. I wasn’t especially surprised, because I’d predicted right down the line exactly what would happen. But I was furious that my grandfather’s reputation had been impugned, and that we’d put that look in his eyes. And Jeff didn’t look so happy, either.
“Would you like to tell me exactly what happened here?”
“Words,” Ethan said. “Only an exchange of words.”
For the first time, Jeff spoke, and his tone wasn’t any more pleasant than my grandfather’s. “Nothing physical?”
“No,” Ethan said ruefully. “I didn’t get that far. The cops showed up first.”
“He told them we were stalking and threatening him,” I explained.
Jeff and my grandfather exchanged a glance.
“Reed’s already called the CPD once,” my grandfather said. “That adds credence to his contention this is a pattern of bad behavior.” He looked at Ethan. “Did you come here specifically to piss him off? Specifically to get arrested? Because if that was your plan, I’d say you accomplished it.”
“We had our reasons,” Ethan said.
My grandfather lifted his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.
“He sent her a note,” Ethan finally said. “A threatening note.”
“A direct threat?”
“Implicit.”
My grandfather didn’t roll his eyes, but that looked like a close call. “Goading you to act, just as you’ve done?”
“I did what I thought was best.”
My grandfather sighed, patted Ethan’s arm. “I don’t doubt that, son, but there are times to fight, and times to wait. This was one of the latter.”
There was something odd about my grandfather, a man in his seventies, referring to a four-hundred-year-old vampire as “son.” But the dynamic worked.
“You know this is part of a bigger plan,” Ethan insisted.
“I know what kind of man Reed is, and I’m not alone. There are others on the force—Detective Jacobs, for one—who agree with us, who understand. But, by God, you’re playing right into his hands. You’re proving the point he’s apparently decided to make—that he’s a businessman who’s doing right by this city, and you’re unstable monsters with a personal vendetta. You’re too smart for antics like this, and I’d say the same thing about your trip to Hellriver last night.”
“We wanted to get out before the CPD arrived,” Ethan said.
My grandfather looked dubious. “While I’m sure that was part of the motivation, I doubt that was all of it.”
Ethan had to know my grandfather was goading him to answer, but he obliged. “I was hoping Cyrius Lore would get away, tell Reed.”
“You thought you’d provoke him to act.”
“I want him to come at me.” Ethan pushed his hands through his hair. “I want him to come at me like a man with some courage.”
“And there’s the fault in your logic,” my grandfather said. “A man like Reed doesn’t have courage, not in the way you mean. He has soldiers. He has men who fight his battles for him.”
Ethan took a slow, heavy breath. “It was my call, not hers, and I take responsibility for it.”
My grandfather nodded, acknowledging the admission, then looked at me. “You’re unusually quiet.”
Because I was seething with anger. But there was nothing to gain in airing that anger in front of Jeff and my grandfather.
I settled on “It’s been a long night.”
My grandfather watched me for a moment before nodding. He could probably read my face, understood Ethan and I would have words later.