Biting Cold: A Chicagoland Vampires Novel (CHICAGOLAND VAMPIRES SERIES) by Chloe Neill

snarked.
    “Precisely,” Paige dryly agreed. “We’re strong enough to birth children but hardly trustworthy when national security’s on the line.”
    “Is the missile still stored here?” Ethan asked.
    “No. It was removed when the silo was decommissioned. But the tube remains. And that’s what’s helpful for us.”
    The hallway ended in a giant sliding concrete door. Paige pushed it sideways along its tracks.
    “This is the silo,” she quietly said, and led us inside.
    The room was enormous, a concrete circle with cavernous holes in the middle of the floor. Panels with thousands of small, sharp-cornered buttons lined consoles along the walls beside brightly colored warnings not to touch the buttons without authorization.
    I had to curl my fingers into fists to keep from pressing them just to see what might happen.
    And the gaping concrete hole where a missile had once stood? Big enough that I had trouble wrapping my mind around the scale of it. I stood at the railing that bound the gap and looked down. The shaft was well lit, and it was lined with steel supports I assumed would have supported the missile.
    “The silo itself is one hundred and three feet tall,” Paige said, her voice echoing in the vastness of the room.
    “And we’re roughly thirty feet down,” Ethan said, “which means there’s seventy more feet of hole below us.”
    “Correct. The concrete is three feet thick on all sides. Quite impenetrable.”
    “It boggles the mind,” Ethan said, staring down into the abyss.
    She pointed to a metal staircase across the room. “There are floors above and below. They hold tanks and more operational controls.”
    “And the Maleficium ?”
    She walked to the railing and pointed down into the silo. “It’s at the very bottom on a pedestal, ironically or otherwise. You can just see it.”
    I looked down. Sure enough, I could see its red leather cover. It didn’t glow or vibrate or give off a weird vibe. It just sat there, minding its own business, holding within it the power to destroy a city and a friendship.
    “It’s the most secure point in the facility—six concrete doors to get through, assuming you could find your way down there. This place is a maze.”
    Difficult to maneuver unless you could fly straight down the silo and nab it. Thank God sorcerers didn’t actually use broomsticks, although the thought of Mallory in pointy black witch’s shoes riding a push broom did a lot to perk up my mood.
    “You’ve done a masterful job making it difficult to get to,” Ethan said.
    “It’s not just to keep people out,” she said. “It’s to keep the evil in. The world used to be a much harsher place. The sorcerers who created the Maleficium thought they were creatively solving a problem—lock evil away and everything’s just hunky-dory. As it turns out, a magical book is pretty porous.”
    “Evil seepage?” I wondered.
    “Yep,” Paige said. “The mechanism isn’t perfect. It’s just the best mechanism we have, though, so it’s worth protecting.”
    “Point made,” Ethan said.
    My stomach picked that moment to rumble impolitely. In the cavernous space of a missile silo, it wasn’t exactly a quiet sound.
    Ethan shook his head. Paige smiled. “Let’s head back upstairs, and I’ll start getting a real meal together. You two can explore the property a bit, get the lay of the land. It’s a big acreage—a square mile in all, and it’s bounded by the roads on all four sides, so if you reach gravel, you’ve gone too far.”
    Ethan nodded. “Thank you. Having a feel for the place might come in handy.”
    Undoubtedly , I thought. The question was, when?
    The platform carried us to the surface again. Paige made her good-byes, pulled on her cap, and relocked the door as we stepped outside. The wind had picked up and the air was brisker. I zipped up my jacket.
    Paige walked back toward the house, a lonely silhouette in the dark emptiness.
    “I wonder if she’s being punished—sent