“‘Someone’?” Beezle asked, making air quotes with his fingers. “Or you?”

“I could very easily lose my temper, gargoyle,” Nathaniel said.

“No, you won’t,” Beezle said. “You’re like the stepdad that can’t discipline the kids because you’ll make their mom angry.”

Nathaniel opened his mouth to respond, but Samiel crossed to the couch, wrenched the remote from Beezle’s little claws and punched in the channel number for the local morning news.

“Hey!” Beezle said. “What is this, Gang Up on Beezle Day?”

We all gathered around the television. The news anchor was announcing a surprise press conference from Chicago’s mayor. The anchor talked for a few moments over the video of the press conference, but I hardly heard what she said. The mayor stood at a podium, and just a little behind his right shoulder was Alerian. He’d covered the natural color of his hair, probably with a simple fae-type glamour, so he looked like he belonged with the rest of the respectable types.

“What’s he doing there?” I demanded.

Daharan shook his head. “I do not know. Let us listen.”

The mayor offered no explanation for Alerian’s presence. Lucifer’s brother wore an expensive-looking suit and a calm expression. I suppose anyone might have assumed that he was a bodyguard for the mayor, but I knew better. Alerian was up to something. Daharan would not have been so disturbed otherwise.

I was so busy concentrating on Alerian that it took me a while to sort out what the mayor was saying. Something about “exposed to a new world,” and “changing with the changing times,” and that “given recent tragic events, it only makes sense.”

“He’s out of his mind,” Jude said. “It’s illegal. He’ll never get away with it.”

“Get away with what?” I asked. “I missed the beginning part.”

“He wants all ‘creatures of supernatural origin’ to come forward and be registered with the city. And then he wants to create an area of Chicago especially for such creatures to live,” Nathaniel said.

“Which will be fenced in and policed, I’m sure,” I said. My hands went unconsciously to my stomach, covering the baby there.

He wants to put all of us in ghettos, Samiel signed.

“Jude’s right. He’ll never get away with it,” I said.

“That’s not true,” Beezle said. “The pack’s experience indicates pretty clearly that there are plenty of people who have no interest in the law where supernatural creatures are concerned. And if they want to get the fence-sitters on their side, all they have to do is rerun the video of commuters having their faces chewed off by vampires in Daley Plaza.”

We all sat in silence, acknowledging the truth of this. But there was another truth that none of us had spoken yet.

“There’s no way he came up with this idea on his own,” I said. “Alerian put this into his head somehow.”

Daharan nodded. “Whatever agenda my brother has—”

“He’s making his play now,” I finished.

“Yeah, and who’s the best-known supernatural creature in the city?” Beezle said pointedly.

They all turned to look at me.

3

“Are you saying they’re going to come for me first?” I said. “Because I would think my celebrity, such as it is, would protect me. Isn’t Jack Dabrowski always going on about how people think I’m a hero for getting rid of the vampires?”

“Now that the vampires are gone, you’re the only person that the general public is sure has some kind of unusual powers,” Beezle said. “Well, you and the rest of the Mensa cases here, since you all were dumb enough to get caught on film fighting the vampires.”

“You were there, too,” I said, annoyed.

“Nobody is going to put me in a camp,” Beezle said. “Some nice upper-class lady who lives on the Gold Coast will adopt me and carry me around in her Kate Spade bag while she’s shopping.”

“Well, I’m not going to stand around and wait for my house to be burned down again,” I said. “I think it’s time to have a word with my uncle.”

Beezle opened his mouth, doubtless to dispute the wisdom of such a plan, but I cut him off.

“If he’s got the mayor under his influence, then it won’t be long before he gets control of someone more powerful. And then whatever he hopes to achieve by cordoning off supernaturals will become a national problem,” I said.

It hardly seemed possible that just a couple of hours earlier I was remarking that things had been quiet lately. As usual, once one problem appeared, several others decided to join in.

“You’re not going to see Alerian in your state,” Nathaniel said.

“What state?” I said, narrowing my eyes.

“The last time you saw Alerian you nearly drowned just by looking into his eyes,” Nathaniel said. “If something like that happens again, the shock of it could harm the baby—assuming you survive the encounter yourself.”

“Besides, how do you know this isn’t all a ploy to lure you to him?” Jude said.

“I’m not that much of a solipsist,” I said. “I can’t believe that Alerian would arrange to have every supernatural creature in the city registered and put in a camp just so I come for a visit. He could call. I’m sure he has my number. Or he could get it from Lucifer.”