Roaring Dawn: Macey Book 3 (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 10) by Colleen Gleason Read Free Book Online Page A

where Iscariot’s lair is, and then I’m going to figure out how to get in there and take him. I’m not waiting for him to make the next move. This is my game. Not his.”
    Temple nodded in approval, and lifted her glass in a sharp toast. “Damn right. Time we women took charge and showed those men what we can do.”
    Macey grinned and clinked her glass against the other. “You said it, sister.”
     
    + + +
    The weather was brewing what looked like an ugly storm when Macey and Temple left Aunt Cookie’s hat shop, dressed in their finery.
    “Hope the storms hold off until we get home,” Temple said, looking at the dark clouds with a jaundiced eye.
    Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Macey shook her head. “I doubt it. But it’ll keep any vampires off the streets tonight—or at least, their victims off the street,” she added as they drove along in what had been Sebastian’s automobile.
    The photography exhibit that had Temple—and, it appeared, a good portion of the wealthy and powerful of Chicago—over the moon was being held in the Preston Bradley Hall of the stunning Chicago Library.
    The building boasted two domes and several grand staircases with elegant archways. Macey, who’d been living in Chicago for less than two years, had never been inside the ornate structure, and she couldn’t help but gawk as she and Temple alighted from the car at the entrance on Washington Street.
    “This is one of the reasons I wanted to come tonight,” Temple said, looking up as they passed through the arched portal and doors framed in bronze. “I needed an excuse to see the place.”
    The lobby off Washington was three stories tall, with a vaulted ceiling. The walls were constructed of white marble and finished with mosaics in intricate organic designs. The glass, mother-of-pearl, and stone mosaic pieces were all the colors of the rainbow, yet the white marble overruled their colorfulness and made the lobby feel light, open, and airy despite the number of people crowding within.
    “It’s a shame Aunt Cookie couldn’t attend after all,” Macey said as they handed their tickets to the doorman who stood at the base of grand staircase made of pristine white marble. It was studded with green marble medallions and more mosaics all the way up its broad flight. “After she spent all that time and effort getting us dressed, it’s too bad her hip began to act up.”
    Macey’s mid-thigh red frock glittered and burned from the swirling scarlet, orange, and gold beading that shimmered with every movement. She looked like the blaze in a fireplace, Cookie had told her as she adjusted a three-inch-wide crimson headband around Macey’s forehead. On one side was a hand-sized rose, each red petal edged with scarlet glitter so it too sparkled as her dark head bobbed. A flowing evening jacket of gossamer fabric the shade of honey and shot with gold thread covered her shoulders, which were bare except for two skinny straps. She also wore blood-red gloves that reached past her elbows and were embroidered with black and gold sequins.
    With a getup like that, Macey didn’t even need any jewelry, but she did wear two large black studs that glinted at her earlobes.
    “When Aunt Cookie’s hip goes out, there isn’t much for it but to put that stinky old Cajun poultice on it and let ’er set,” Temple replied as they started up the grand staircase. The Tiffany glass dome, the focal point of the hall, loomed above, and the sparkle of stars and moonlight filtered through the glass. “Maybe a voodoo charm to help, but I let her handle that part of it.” She flashed a bright white smile. “Anyway, I promised her we’d hand out her business cards if anyone asked about our costumes.”
    Temple wore a stunning shift of honey, gold, and amber, which fairly glowed against her rich cocoa skin. A slender headband studded with palm-sized peonies and an elegant arch of matching feathers completed her look, along with chunky black shoes