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Chapter One
CLEVER GIRL
Early April Chicago, Illinois
There were two seasons in Chicago: winter and construction If it wasn’t snowing, orange cones narrowed the Dan Ryan, or lower Wacker was closed Snow and traffic defined our lives as Chicagoans
Nested within those seasons were the other activities that defined life forbaseball season, it was Cubs versus Sox During tourist season, you served them, you screa summer, the beaches were open And for a few spare weeks, the water of Lake Michigan was even warh for a dip
Not that I’d had much occasion to sunbathe or swih for vampires
But when spring rolled around and construction cones popped onto asphalt like neon flowers, even vaed quilted jackets, electric blankets, heavy boots, and balaclavas for tanks, sandals, and nights in the war air
Tonight, we sat on a blanket on the grass at Milton Lee Olive Park, an expanse of green and fountains near Navy Pier honoring a soldier who’d given his life to save others, and won a Medal of Honor for his sacrifice A burst of spring air had war a quiet spot for a picnic to celebrate the end of a long, cold winter At two o’clock in the , the park was definitely quiet
Ethan Sullivan, Master of Cadogan House and now one of twelve members of the newly established Assembly of American Masters, sat besideextended, his hand at the shts of Chicago blink across the skyline in front of us
He had a tall and rangy body of hard planes and sculpted olden blond hair that just reached his shoulders and surrounded honed cheekbones, a straight nose, deep-set green eyes, and ian’s Sentinel, and I was utterly relieved that winter had finally weakened its grip on the city
“This is not a bad way to spend an evening,” said the girl on the blanket beside ours, her striking blue hair drawn in a complicated braid that lay across her shoulder Her Cupid’s bowfingers of her boyfriend’s He ell built and shaved-headed, with piercing green eyes and a generousfor snarky T-shirts, and tonight’s gem was black, with KEEP CALM AND FIREBALL in clean white text across the front
Mallory Carmichael was my oldest friend, and Catcher Bell was her live-in beau Catcher worked for randfather Chuck Merit, the city’s Supernatural Ombudsman
“No, it’s not,” I agreed “This was a very good idea” I sipped from a bottle of Sweet Sumainst ood, and the air ith spring and the scent of white flowers that drifted down frorass Ethan’s hand warmed the skin on my back This was as close to a day at the beach as I was ever likely to get And it was a pretty good substitute
“I thought soood,” Mallory said “It’s been a long winter”
That was the understateic,episodes that had put Mallory in the hands of a serial killer and nearly cost Ethan his life He was fine and she was recovering, and the incident had seeether