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Daharan repeated.
    Beezle flipped through the channels, muttering to himself.
    “Something urgent is obviously occurring and you’re upset because you’re missing an episode of a telenovela?” I asked. My stomach was knotted in fear. The last time we’d all gathered around the television, we saw hundreds of vampires eating the denizens of the city. What could it be now? A plague of zombies? An army of faerie warriors come to take vengeance for the death of their queen?
    “If I miss an episode, I won’t know what’s going on next time,” Beezle said.
    “You don’t know what’s going on anyway. You can’t speak Spanish,” I said.
    “I know how to order my food in Spanish at the taqueria,” Beezle said loftily.
    “Just find the news and stop talking before someone in this room loses their temper,” I said.
    “‘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