Howling For You: A Chicagoland Vampires Novella (A Penguin Special from New American Library) by Chloe Neill

His hair was tawny and gold tipped, and it reached his shoulders in shaggy waves. His eyes were amber colored and, at the moment, swirled with amusement.
    “Kitten,” said Gabriel Keene, the Apex of the North American Pack. He gave me an up-and-down perusal. “I trust I’m not interrupting anything?”
    “Sleeping,” I managed, crossing my arms over my chest. “We were sleeping.”
    Ethan stepped behind me, chest bare, buttoning jeans. “I’m fairly certain you know precisely what you were interrupting.”
    Gabe smiled broadly, revealing straight, white teeth. “Doesn’t matter now, since you’re both awake. Get your asses dressed. We’ve got business to attend to.”
    Ethan arched an eyebrow, his favorite move. “What business? What are you doing here?”
    “I’m here for the Pack, just as you are.”
    Ethan grunted. “We’re here because Papa Breck made us pay for the privilege.”
    I slid Ethan a glance. He hadn’t mentioned a payment to the Brecks. And that information would have been good to know before we put our fate—before I put
his
fate—in their hands.
    “He made you pay,” Gabriel said, “but not for the privilege you think. That money was an admission fee.”
    “For what?” Ethan asked.
    “For the Greatest Show on Earth,” Gabriel said with a smile that could only be described as wolfish. “It’s the first night of Lupercalia.”
    “What’s Lupercalia?” I asked, in spite of myself. I should have been ducking back inside, but I found the name—and Gabe’s appearance at our door—intriguing.
    “Our annual NAC festival,” Gabe said, “and has been since Rome’s founding. Three nights in late winter to call spring to rise, to celebrate our animals, our connections to the woods, to the world.”
    That explains Michael’s animus,
Ethan silently said.
He wouldn’t want us here for that.
    Part of it, maybe. But I’d bet Michael hadn’t cared for vampires before we’d arrived, and wouldn’t like us any more when the festival was over.
    “Tonight,” Gabe said, “you’re our guests. Among others.” He stepped aside, revealing two sorcerers and a shifter behind him. The sorcerers were my best friend, Mallory Carmichael, and Catcher, her boyfriend. Mallory had been disgraced by bad deeds, but Gabe had adopted her for rehabilitation.
    Mallory and Catcher were bundled against the cold in jeans and boots. Hers were fawn colored and knee high over skinny jeans. Her blue hair, darker at the tips, lay straight on her shoulders.
    Catcher stood beside her, wearing his typically dour expression. His hair was shaved, his eyes sparkling green, his mouth lush. He was partial to snarky T-shirts, but I couldn’t tell if he wore one beneath his coat.
    Jeff was the final member of the trio, my grandfather’s employee and favorite white-hat hacker. Granted, he was the only computer hacker I actually knew in person, but I’m pretty sure he’d have been my favorite anyway. Tonight he’d traded in his usual uniform—khakis and a button-down shirt—for jeans, boots, and a rugged outdoor jacket. His light brown hair was tucked behind his ears, and he wore his usual smile—friendly, with touches of bashful and goofball.
    “Sullivan,” Catcher said with a bob of the head, then answered Ethan’s unspoken question. “We’re here for Lupercalia.”
    “I’m here to participate,” Jeff said, a blush in his cheeks as he dutifully managed not to stare at my legs.
    It was great to see them, but if they were here, my grandfather was down two guardians.
    They must have seen the worry in my eyes. “Your mother and father limited your grandfather’s visitors today,” Catcher said. “They want him to rest. So we’re out of a job there.”
    Jeff wiggled his phone. “Although we did manage to sneak in a panic button, just in case. He can reach us immediately if there’s any problem.”
    “Good idea,” I said with a smile, relieved that they’d thought of it.
    Of course, I was still