“Liege.”
Ethan turned to face me and pressed a hard kiss to my lips. “Stay here.”
But I was as stubborn as him, and I tried to follow him until Malik’s hand clamped around my arm. I threw my gaze to his. “You cannot be serious.”
“This isn’t about you. It’s about him. It’s his battle, and he needs to fight it.”
“To the death? Over her? She tried to kill him.”
“He is a better vampire than she is, but he isn’t sure of it. Let him prove it to himself. You know that he needs that, Merit. To know that he is who he believes—and not the monster others would try to make of him.”
I moistened my lips, looking at Malik, then the building into which Ethan and Bennett raced headlong. I didn’t want him moving back into danger . . . but Malik was absolutely right. We knew who Ethan was. But Ethan needed to prove it to himself.
“He will survive this,” Malik said. “Trust him.”
“I do trust him.” It was Nicole I didn’t trust. “And you’d better hope he’ll be okay,” I said, training my gaze on Malik. “If anything happens to him, I will gut you like a trout and not feel bad about it.”
He managed a small smile. “I’d look forward to the challenge, Sentinel.”
And speaking of which, I had unfinished business. I walked to Lakshmi, planted myself in front of her, forcing her gaze to mine.
With obvious reluctance, she shifted her gaze from the building to me. “Yes?”
“You are responsible for him,” I told her. “And I don’t care about your excuses, or your justifications, or whether you think you’re serving all vampires by sacrificing the few. I don’t care who you are, or what position you’re in. This is complete, unmitigated bullshit.”
Her eyes flattened with insult, and she opened her mouth to respond. But I had no interest in whatever she might say. With fire in my eyes, I walked away before she could respond and before I made good on my promise to punch her. I was so angry, so afraid, that the risk I’d do it just to feel some other emotion was too high.
I walked back to Malik, whose eyes shined with curiosity.
“Everything all right?”
I fixed my gaze on the warehouse. “Just setting the record straight.”
His fingers found mine, squeezed.
The windows on the first floor burst after two minutes had passed. I knew the time, because I counted each second in the cadence I’d learned as a child—one one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, four one thousand—waiting for him to appear again.
We ducked as glass flew, but I still felt the prick of shards that touched skin not covered by my leathers.
The second-floor windows burst at three minutes, flames shooting through the building’s husk like they were reaching for us, trying to draw us back in.
“He has thirty seconds,” I said, without bothering to look back at Malik. “He can have his pride, but I’m not going to let him kill himself.”
Malik kept his eyes on the building, casting back and forth across the facade as he searched for Ethan. “I was only going to give him fifteen.”
Timbers creaked and lurched ominously, the same sounds I imagined passengers might hear on a ship before it split and disappeared beneath the water.
“Fuck it,” I said, and started forward. More windows burst, and I covered my head with my arms as glass fell to the ground around me like snow.
Several figures emerged.
I’d seen Ethan walk through smoke and ash before, emerge through a cloud of magic and fire. We’d been lovers then, when I’d thought him dead. But we hadn’t loved. Not like this. Not like we did now. I’d grieved when he was gone, but this would have killed me. Because now he was my eternity.
My smoky, sooty boyfriend had never looked so good.
He carried Sarah in his arms. Nicole limped along behind them with Bennett’s help, holding one arm stiffly at her side.
We all flinched as an enormous crack lit the air, and the building’s roof crumpled from the middle, falling inside and bringing down half the building with it. Smoke, dust, and debris poured around us. Supernaturals had destroyed yet another building. But everyone was alive.
Ethan was alive.
He placed Sarah carefully on the ground. “Smoke inhalation,” he said, stepping away again so Bennett and Nicole could attend to her.
I strode to him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him fiercely.
“That was the dumbest and bravest and most amazing thing I’ve ever seen anyone do. And if you ever do anything like that again, I’ll kill you myself.”
Lakshmi moved toward us and didn’t mince words. “Your score will be reduced for interfering. Hers will be reduced for failing to finish.”
Ethan looked unconcerned by the pronouncement. “We all must act according to the dictates of our consciences. I have done so. You must do so as well.”
Lakshmi walked away, pulled out her phone. When she was gone, Nicole walked closer, and there was no mistaking the befuddlement on her face.
“You helped me.”
“I believed you could use a hand.”
Her clothes were singed, her face sooty, her hair coated with ash. And she just kept staring at him, as if she was reevaluating hundreds of years of history.
“We’re competitors.”
“We are,” Ethan agreed. “But we’re also colleagues. And at one time, Nicola, we were friends. I won’t take your immortality in order to prove a point.”
My love for him—my respect for him—blossomed like a spring rose, filling my chest with love and utter pride that he was mine.
“So I see.” Nicole swallowed hard but held out a hand.
He shook her hand, nodded, and when that was done, Nicole and Bennett helped Heart House’s Sentinel into the waiting car.
I walked back to Lakshmi, called out her name.
“Yes?” she asked, when she glanced back.
“When you knocked me out and brought me here, you interrupted me. I had information for you: Some of the money stolen from the American Houses was transferred to a Swiss account registered to Ronald Weatherby. I believe you’ll find he’s a British herbalist who worked on the obelisk but probably wasn’t told what it would be used for. Find him, interview him, ask him who paid him for his services. That will be the vampire who magicked and manipulated Darius. Now,” I said, flicking a bit of ash from the sleeve of her jacket, then smiling at her again. “Figure that into your score.”
Her mouth opened, closed. I gave her a jaunty salute, and walked back toward Ethan.
* * *
Once again, he showered while I searched for the right words to say. Tonight was no different, except that we’d showered together. I rubbed at the oily soot that stained my skin, while he washed my hair, a habit he’d apparently come to enjoy.
My fingers were wrinkled by the time we finally stepped from the shower, pulled on clothes. Ethan settled on his typical favorite—emerald green silk pajama bottoms that rode low on his hips. I’m fairly certain he wore them as a kind of dare, a challenge for me to resist him. But I had words to say, so I managed.
I opted for plaid shorts with a Cadogan “C” embroidered on the leg and a matching tank. If he expected me to ogle his abs, he might as well do a little ogling of my legs.
“You hungry?” he asked.“Starving, actually. And you must be, too.”
“My appetite is coming back.” He picked up his phone. “I’ll ask Margot to send something up, and Malik to hold down the fort. We can spend the rest of the evening here. I think we deserve a bit of quiet time together. And besides—you owe me a dinner, as I recall.”
I managed not to make a comment about frighteningly fancy food. He was right; I did owe him. “I think that sounds magnificent.” But as he checked his phone, his shoulders tensed.
“Ethan?” I prompted.
“We made the final ballot.” He looked up at me, awe in his eyes. “Me, Nicole, Danica. Lakshmi didn’t fail us after all. She gave us point deductions, but even with that we made the ballot. Granted, we’re the bottom two on the ballot,” he said with a chuckle, “but we’re there. The other Houses will vote tonight. That means we’ll know shortly after dusk tomorrow.”
I walked to him, put my hands on his face. “Whatever happens, we are proud of you. So incredibly proud of you, for what you did and who you are.”
He pulled me against his body, already hard and ready, and kissed me, tongue probing and my body going immediately hot, but I took a regrettable step backward and closed my eyes as I sought control. If he touched me, we’d both be lost.
“Wait,” I said, opening my eyes again. “There are things we need to talk about. Or things I’d like to say.”
He watched me carefully, took a step back, crossed his arms. That only seemed to accentuate his flat abs and hip muscles even more, but I dragged my gaze to his face.
“All right, Sentinel. Go ahead.”
“Maybe let’s sit down.”
I felt the jarring spike of his magic, but moved to the sitting room, sat down on the couch, tucking one leg beneath me.
He looked decidedly skeptical but followed me over and took a seat, arching an arm over the back. “You have my attention.”
“I was wild with fear tonight that I’d lose you again. But you came out alive. And not just alive—victorious. Regardless the points or the vote, or whatever happens here, you won. You had a choice: You could have left Nicole there. You could have taken the victory and walked away. But that’s not who you are. You saved her. She couldn’t make you an asshole, despite everything she tried to put you through.”
I felt his shuddering sigh, and he put a hand on my cheek. “How did you suddenly become so wise?”
“I had a good teacher.”
“Thank you, Merit.”
“I actually meant Amit,” I said with a grin. “But you were a really good teacher, too.”
“Flattering Amit will get you nowhere with me, Sentinel.”
There was a knock at the door. Ethan rose, checked the peephole, and when he was sure of our security, opened the door.
Margot wheeled in a cart topped with silver domes that smelled deliciously of meat. With much amusement, I watched her eyes drop and widen as she took in Ethan’s scantily clad form. But she sucked it up, pulled off the silver domes.
“Liege, Merit. Dinner is served.”
I braced myself for fish stuffed with more fish, or a mousse of meat. But the meal that stared back from gleaming white plates was perfectly normal. Bacon cheeseburgers with hand-cut fries and tumblers of chocolate milk shakes.
He smiled at me. “I decided for our award dinner we might have a meal that suited us both.”
“I’ve never loved you more.”
“Are you talking to me, Margot, or the burgers?”
“Yes,” I said, and pulled up a chair as she flipped out the sides of the cart to make a round table.
When she crouched to stow the plate covers on the cart’s bottom shelf, she looked back at me, mouth and eyes wide. She mouthed, “Hubba-hubba,” and gave me a very bawdy wink before disappearing out the door again.
“Never let it be said I’m not willing to sacrifice for my Sentinel.”
“Nobody doubted it,” I said, and ate a fry to prove just that.
* * *
I had to give him props. The dinner was absolutely delicious. Margot had even thought to bring dessert—chocolate cheesecake neatly sliced on two small plates, accompanied by a drizzle of raspberry sauce and a fresh sprig of mint.
“I believe there’s something you’ll need, Sentinel.”
Ethan slid from his chair, dropped to one knee on the carpet.
My mind had to race to keep up, but my heart pounded madly.
Ethan looked up at me, grinned. “That thing, of course, is this.” He held up a small dessert fork. “You dropped your fork, Sentinel.”
My blood pounded in my ears. I stood up, swatted his arms with slaps. “You are a jerk.”
He roared with laughter. “Ah, Sentinel. The look on your face.” He doubled over with laughter. “Such terror.”
I kept swatting. “At the thought of marrying you, you pretentious ass.”
He roared again, then picked me up and carried me to the bed. “My pretentions are well earned, Sentinel.”
“You have got to stop doing that.”
“I can’t. It’s hilarious.”
Only a man would think fake proposals were so funny. “It’s nothing near hilarious. It’s several thousand light-years from hilarious.”
He dropped me onto the duvet, covered his body with mine, nipped at my lip, then trailed kisses to his favorite spot on my neck. “Let’s see, my Sentinel, just how hilarious I can be.”
I’d been right.
There was nothing hilarious about it.
Chapter Twenty-two
THE LIONS, THE WITCH, THE WARDROBE
Someone screamed shrilly in my ear, over and over and over again.
“Phone,” Ethan murmured, elbowing me. “Your phone.”
I snapped awake, sat up, reached out for the phone that threatened to vibrate its way across the nightstand. My grandfather’s name flashed on the screen, which made my heart jump uncomfortably.
“Hello?”
“I’m sorry for the rude awakening,” he said.
“It’s okay. I’m awake. Is everything all right?”
“With us, yes. With Mitzy Burrows, no. We’ve found her body.”
“Damn it,” I muttered, then apologized for cursing, which would have earned me a stern look. “Where?”