Phantom Kiss

   “He’s at the Malone mansion,” Roz said, body sagging with resignation.

   “The bordello?” Catcher asked, pulling out his phone, probably to send a message to my grandfather.

   “Our bordello. We bought it before Sorcha, before people were afraid. We’re going to lose it if we don’t get business.” She paused. “Robin’s got Padgett’s skull, and he’s going to try to move Padgett’s spirit from Cadogan House into our building.”

   “Is he alone?” I asked.

   She nodded. “We had a fight. After what happened here, we told him it was too dangerous to do any more of this, that we’d figure out another way to get the money. He said he’d do it alone.” Guilt hunched her shoulders.

   If he gets it right, I told Ethan, if he manages to call Padgett, Padgett will kill him.

   Ethan was quiet for a moment, as if debating whether that possibility—considering the fact that Robin had created the situation and the danger—was worth the trouble of a response.

   “You’ll stay here,” he said to Matt and Roz in a tone that allowed no argument. “Keep an eye on them,” he told Kelley.

   She stepped forward, eyes silvered and fangs bared.

   We walked back into the foyer.

   “You’ve contacted Chuck?” Ethan asked Catcher.

   He nodded. “He’s going to assemble a team, get eyes on the house. He doesn’t want to send cops in yet. If Padgett’s in there, guns won’t help.”

   “Then let’s join them,” Ethan said. “And let’s put an end to this.”

   • • •

   Ethan, Mallory, Jeff, Catcher, Annabelle, and I gathered two blocks up from the Malone house to finalize our plan with my grandfather and the CPD backup.

   “You’re violating the Order’s rules,” Catcher told Annabelle with a grin.

   Her answering grin was equally wide. She was wearing an ass-kicking ensemble of black pants, jacket, and boots. It was a night of fierce ladies, and she nodded with the same ferocity in her eyes. “I know,” she said. “It feels spectacular.”

   Catcher chuckled, patted her back. “Welcome to the club.”

   “The house is surrounded,” my grandfather said. “Robin is in there. We’ve got a man with a camera across the street.” He offered a tablet that showed what looked like color video.

   The house was precisely what I’d have imagined a Midwestern bordello would look like. It was a Queen Anne–style building, with pointed gables on the front and sides, and a thin, round tower on the corner above the front door. There were railed balconies on the street-facing side and gingerbread decorations on every right angle. The house had once been painted in several colors—seafoam green, deep mauve, and brick red with pale yellow highlights—but the color had faded in some spots, peeled in others. Half the windows were boarded up.

   The house was slightly elevated from the sidewalk, and a white banner had been posted in the patchy lawn: MALONE BORDELLO. CALL FOR TOURS OF CHICAGO’S MOST HAUNTED BUILDING.

   The sign looked new. Robin had apparently been feeling optimistic.

   There was a light on in the unshielded front window, and the form of a man backlit by a hanging bulb in the living room.

   “That’s Robin,” my grandfather said. “We presume he is attempting to work the summoning spell he previously purchased in order to move Padgett into this location. We will also presume he will be successful at that, and we’ll prepare accordingly.”

   “The spell is clearly effective,” Annabelle said. “If it’s powerful enough, he can make another go of it.”

   My grandfather nodded. “If Padgett is drawn here, can you put him down?”

   “I can strongly encourage him to leave,” Annabelle said in a tone that left no doubt as to how strong that encouragement would be.

   “That’s good enough for me.” My grandfather looked at each member of the mission team in turn. “Neutralize Padgett in whatever manner is most effective. Try to keep Robin alive.”

   “‘Try’?” Catcher asked.

   It had been many years since my grandfather had worn a CPD uniform, but there was no mistaking the vigor in his eyes or the anger. “Try,” my grandfather said again. “Be careful out there and cautious of both of them.”

   “We will,” Annabelle said. “And he shouldn’t underestimate us.”

   As taglines went, that was pretty solid.

   • • •

   We broke into teams so we could make quieter approaches. Jeff and Catcher would go in through the back. Ethan, Annabelle, and I would go in through the front. Mallory would stay outside, magic at the ready, in case she needed to control Padgett’s escape.

   You’ll be careful, Ethan said, taking in my leathers and katana as I gave him a once-over, too.

   And so will you. We’ve got a wedding to attend.

   That there was relief in his eyes surprised me. Even though your relatives may not approve? he asked.

   I smiled at him. I’m not worried about whether they approve of you. More that they don’t approve of me. But there’s not much I can do to change that. I am who I am.

   What you are, he said, is spectacular.

   I was also ready for a fight, I thought, as Ethan, Annabelle, and I walked through darkness, the sound of our footsteps muffled by the calls of cicadas. When we had a visual on the front porch, Ethan held up a fist, calling us to a stop.

   The light was still on, but the main room on the first floor was empty. There was a flickering glow in one of the windows in the second-floor tower.

   “He’s moved upstairs,” Ethan said.

   Annabelle nodded. “That’s candlelight. Part of the spell he bought.”