KNOCK HIM (UN)DEAD
I didn't expect trouble during the cocktail reception, but my run-in with Jonah taught me a valuable lesson about heading out without any weaponry. I'd been lucky that the vampire stalking me outside the bar hadn't been out to get me - but that certainly wasn't true for everyone. So as I climbed into my Cadogan black, I slipped a dagger into one of my boots. My hair went up, my Cadogan medal went around my neck, and my beeper was clipped on. I was as ready as I could be - at least physically.
Sure. I'd oblige him. I'd clean up and walk downstairs, and I'd put in an appearance at a party held in honor of his former flame. But I wasn't going to do that without backup, at least in spirit. So I grabbed my phone from the bookshelf, took a seat on the edge of my bed, and dialed up Mallory. The first thing I heard was the clanking of pots and pans, and a bevy of faraway curses before she managed to right the phone.
"Oh, God, stop - stop - crap - crap - Merit? Are you there?"
"Mal? Are you okay?"
"I'm - seriously - stop it. Right now."
The din immediately quieted.
"What's going on over there?"
"Science experiments. I have to learn how to work with a cat; they're familiars, you know - and she's into everything. She's been here, like, four hours, and she thinks she owns my - Seriously, bad kitty!
Stop that! - she thinks she owns my house. She's destroying my kitchen. So, what's up with you? I saw your text about some drama at the convocation?"
"Violence broke out, but Gabriel's alive, and that's the most important thing."
"I totally knew that apotrope would work - like a charm!" she exclaimed, snorting through the phone. I rolled my eyes. "You did good, and I appreciate it. But I need a moment of best-friend butt-kissing."
"What's he got you doing now?"
Ah, she knew me so well. "He's hosting a cocktail party for Lacey Sheridan. He told me I had to put in an appearance."
"You know, I really dislike him in so many ways."
"That had occurred to me as well."
"Well, let's do the checklist - do you look fabulous?"
"I'm wearing my suit."
"Good enough. Are you going to follow him around at the party or kiss her ass?"
"No plans for either."
"Are you going to be your normally brilliant and funny self, reminding him by your very vivaciousness and joie de vivre how foolish he's being?"
And that was why I loved this girl. "I can certainly give it my best."
"That's all I can ask - Oh, God, bad kitty. Merit, I have to go. She's got my matches again. I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Good night, Mallory."
"Good night, Merit. Knock him undead."
Like I told her, I'd give it my best.
Things were quiet when I emerged downstairs. I walked through the first-floor hallway to the back patio.
Ethan's door was open, his office dark, as were the other administrative offices I passed. I was halfway there - nearly to the kitchen - when I heard it.
Music.
Through the windows at the back of the House, I could see the glow of a fire in the backyard and the mass of vampires gathered around it. As quietly as I could, I opened the glass-and-iron back door, and stepped outside. Black-clad vampires stood in rings, surrounding the haunting strain of music. There was a single voice, a woman, accompanied by a violin. Her voice was clear and sad, the violin raspy, weeping. It sounded like a dirge, a low, sweet song of loss or love, the kind I'd run across in my own medieval studies.
The vampires' attention was rapt - the crowd silent, gazes on the musicians in the middle, whom I still couldn't see. They said music soothed the savage beast; I was a believer.
I saw Luc's tousled curls in front of me. When I reached him, he looked over and smiled before turning back to the musicians. I could finally see them - Katherine and a male vampire I didn't know. He played the lonely fiddle; the clear but melancholy voice was hers.
"It's a Civil War song," Luc whispered. "Ethan asked them, Thomas and Katherine, to do a song tonight."
This must be Katherine's brother, I realized. "It's beautiful," I told him.
They sat beside each other on a low, concrete bench, Katherine in a simple dress and sandals, Thomas in black pants and a button-down shirt. His eyes were closed, the violin tucked beneath his chin, his shoulders swaying as the song flowed from his strings. Katherine's eyes were open, but her gaze was unfocused, as if she watched invisible memories play out before her as she traveled the verses of the song.
"She was changed in 1864," Luc whispered. "She and Thomas both. Her Master changed them after Katherine lost her husband, Caleb, to the war. They'd only been married for a week." The song sounded autobiographical. Katherine sang for a young soldier's safe return, lamented the sound of gunfire across a valley, and lamented the soldier's death.
She mourned the death of her true love.
I'm not sure what made me look up, what made me search the crowd for Ethan, but I did. I saw Lacey first. Her expression was blank, emotionless. If she was touched by the song, by the lyrics, she didn't show it.
He stood beside her, arms crossed. His gaze . . . on me.
We looked at each other over the vampires, over the music, his eyes catching the glow of the garden lights, centuries of history in his gaze. Centuries that had made him cold.
And then his voice echoed through my head. Merit.
He silently called my name, even as he stood beside her.
Liege? I answered back.
His eyes glinted. Don't call me that.
There is nothing else for me to call you. You are my employer. That is the deal we've struck.
There was something helpless in his eyes now, but I wasn't going to fall for it again. I turned my gaze to the fire. It licked toward the sky, forked tongues of flame creating glowing shadows on the tinder. The tangy wood smoke rose, the fragrance almost intoxicating, hinting at a wildness that vampires in the middle of downtown Chicago, forbidden from the sun, couldn't otherwise touch. I stared at the fire until the song was over, then clapped along with the others as Katherine and Thomas shared a soft, sad smile.
"Where did you head off to last night?" Luc asked as Katherine sipped from a cup and Thomas resituated his violin. I assumed he wasn't asking where I'd been - but where Lindsey had been.
"Temple Bar. Lindsey thought it would be a good idea to get me out of the House."
"And how are you holding up?"
"If you meant with respect to the shifters, pretty good. If you meant personally, he invited his ex-girlfriend back to town. You can probably guess how I feel about that." Katherine and Thomas started again, this time a perkier song with an Irish cant. Luc and I stood together in silence, watching Katherine sing in a lilting Irish brogue, Thomas beside her, his fingers flying across the fiddle.
"I really do think he cares about you, you know."
"He has a strange way of showing it."
"He's a vampire. That makes him strange."
I glanced over at Luc. Even in the midst of supernatural drama, he usually had a quirky grin on his face.
But this time, his expression was weary, and I wasn't sure if we were still talking about Ethan . . . or Lindsey. Had something similar happened between them? If so, I could sympathize. It was hard to bear the burden of someone else's regret - and the contrition that apparently followed it.
"Are you and Lindsey okay?"
His expression hardened. "Lindsey and I . . . aren't. But that's status quo."
"Would you like to talk about it?"
The question was pretty girly, but the look I got back - eyes narrowed, stare flat - was all boy.
"No, Sentinel, I do not want to talk about it."
"Fair enough. Maybe," I suggested, "if this is the product of immortality, we have to ask if the sacrifice is worth it."
"It does make one wonder," Luc said.
Love was very definitely a bitch.
Katherine and Thomas finished singing to raucous applause, the clapping eventually giving way to the soft sounds of cello music. Luc sighed. "I'm going to mingle. You gonna be okay here?"
"Right as rain," I told him. "Feel free."
I watched him disappear into the vampires. It probably wasn't a coincidence that I also saw Lindsey milling about in another part of the crowd.
"Katherine and Thomas are quite talented."
I glanced behind me. Ethan stood there, expression blank, hands in his pockets. "They're quite talented," he said again. I looked back at the crowd, wondering where his companion had gone. I found her on the other side of the formal garden, chatting with Malik. For the moment, the risk of drama diminished. "Yes, they are."
"Gabriel called," he said. "He confirmed that shifters who attacked were trying to make good on the hit and collect the payment."
"Who ordered the hit?"
"They weren't told, and they apparently didn't ask."
"That's not exactly comforting. Is Gabe still sure the drama's over?" Ethan nodded. "He is all but convinced. That said, he is remarkably short-sighted for a man with gifts of prophecy."
Or just not as neurotic as the fanged among him. "And the ultimate culprit?" I wondered.
"Who's to say? Tony may have been involved, but we still don't know whether he was the puppet master or just a puppet. And since we've been excused by Gabriel, that's how it will remain." We stood in silence for another moment.
"You're quiet this evening," he said.
I pasted on a pleasant smile. "It's been a long week. I'm just trying to relax." And I was trying to avoid more drama. He was quiet for two or three minutes, during which the two of us stood there together, black-clad vampires moving around us. "I can tell something's bothering - " We had sex and you bailed, I silently thought, and now your contrition is driving me crazy. "I was just enjoying the music."
"I'm sorry."
I clenched my eyes shut, emotion washing over me. I didn't want to do this again. I certainly didn't want his apologies. They only made me feel pitied. "Please stop saying that."
"I wish - "
"Your indecision isn't making this easier."
"And you think it's easy for me?"
"Hey, kids," said a familiar voice in front of us. Lindsey approached, Lacey at her side, the traitor.
"Lovely party," Lindsey told Ethan, then looked at me. "And how are you faring this evening?"
"I'm good. And you?"
"Eh," she said with a shrug. "I'm not as popular as our dear Sentinel, of course." She put an arm around my shoulders. "We took her to Temple Bar last night, and she was a hit."
Ah, so that was the game - showing me off in front of Lacey.
Ethan looked at me, his expression chill. I guessed he wasn't impressed by my sudden popularity. "Meet me in my office in five minutes."
It took me a moment to adjust to the topic change, but I glanced between him and Lacey. "There's no need for you to leave the party. We can talk later." Before I could finish, that eyebrow was arched. "That was not a request." Without waiting for an answer, he walked away, a hand at Lacey's back to guide her along.
Lindsey frowned. "What was that about?"
"I have no clue. Why do you think he wants me to meet him in his office?"
"Well, he's either just figured out that you might win homecoming queen and he totally wanted that spot, or he wants to get down on one knee and apologize profusely for being an ass." We looked at each other. She grinned. "So, since that second part is damned unlikely, are you interested in the homecoming queen bit?"
"Will there be a tiara?"
"What's a homecoming queen without one?" Then she put her hands on my arms. "Do me one favor - whatever he says about your relationship or your training or Lacey, don't play bashful. Don't play humble. You've been busting your ass this week, and you've been making him look good. You've earned that bravado. Promise?"
I promised.
I waited for fifteen minutes - fifteen minutes during which I forced myself to scan the books and trophies on his shelves, and tried to avoid wondering what - or who - had kept him.
I was leaning back against the conference table in his office when he walked in. He didn't look up, but shut the doors behind him and moved to his desk. He shuffled papers for a moment before bracing his hands on the edges of the desktop.
"We'll need to find a new physical challenge for you in order to ensure that your training is sufficient to allow you to progress."
Okay, maybe he really did want to talk about training. "Okay."
"This is also a good time for us to keep communications open with Gabriel. If the Packs aren't leaving, that means they're here. We should think about rules of engagement in case any more of them aren't happy with that decision."
"That seems appropriate."
He finally looked at me, his eyes clouded. "Enough of the game, Merit. Enough with 'Yes, Liege' and
'No, Liege.' Quit rubber-stamping everything I say. You were more valuable when you were arguing with me."
For once, I hadn't been playing at acquiescence; I really did think it was appropriate. But his tone begged a response, and I was finally fed up with his back-and-forth.
"I was more 'valuable'? I'm not an antique. Nor am I a toy or a weapon for you to manipulate."
"I'm not playing with you, Sentinel."
I lifted my eyebrows. I was only Sentinel when he was pissed. "And I'm not playing with you, Sullivan." We glared at each other for a moment, the room thick with unspoken words - the conversations we'd been avoiding.
"Watch it."
"No," I said, and his eyes widened. Ethan Sullivan, I imagined, wasn't used to his employees disobeying him.
"The only thing you ever want from me," I told him, "is for me to be something I'm not. If I argue, you complain I'm not being obedient. If I'm polite, you complain I'm rubber-stamping what you say. I can't keep playing this game with you, this constant back-and-forth."
"You know it's not that simple."
"It is that simple, Ethan. Take me as I am or let me go." He shook his head. "I can't have you."
"Yes, you could have. You did. And then you changed your mind." I thought of Lacey, of the photograph I'd seen, of his having had a relationship with her despite his strategic considerations. Maybe that was what bothered me the most - what made me different? What did I lack? Why her, but not me?
"Was I not tempting enough?" I asked him. "Not classy enough?" I didn't expect him to answer, but he did. And that was almost worse. "There's nothing wrong with you."
He'd stood up and slipped his hands into his pockets. I met his gaze and saw the green fire in his eyes.
"You're perfect - beautiful, intelligent, intractable in a kind of . . . attractive way. Headstrong, but a good strategist. An amazing fighter."
"But that's not enough?"
"It's too much. You think I haven't thought about what it might be like to return to my rooms at the end of the night and find you there - to find you in my bed, to have your body and your laugh and your mind?
To look across a room and know that you were mine - that I'd claimed you. Me." He drummed a finger against his chest. "Me. Ethan Sullivan. Not the head of Cadogan House, not the four-hundred-year-old vampire, not the child of Balthasar or the Novitiate of Peter Cadogan. Me. Just me. Just you and me." He moistened his lips and shook his head. "I don't have that luxury, Merit. I am the Master of this House. The Master of hundreds of vampires I've sworn to protect."
"I'm one of your vampires," I reminded him.
He sighed and rubbed a hand across his forehead. "You are my greatest strength. You are my biggest weakness."
"You called Lacey here. She's not a weakness?"
He seemed startled. "Lacey?"
"You two had - have - a relationship, right?"
His expression softened. "Merit, Lacey is here for an evaluation. We've been - in my limited free time - reviewing the financial status of her House. This trip was scheduled six months ago. I didn't invite her here for a relationship."
"Everyone thought - "
He gave me a sardonic look. "You should know better than to regard the rumors that swirl around this House as fact."
I looked down, sufficiently reprimanded and silently thankful. But that didn't change the bigger issue. "I told you that you had one chance, and you decided we were better off as colleagues. I can't play the game of wondering - each and every day - where we stand. I'm your employee, your subordinate, and it's time we acted like it. So I'm asking you not to bring it up again - not to bring us up again. Not to remind me with a word or a glance how conflicted you are."
"I can't help that I'm conflicted."
"And I can't help you with being conflicted. You made your choice, Ethan, and we can't keep having this conversation over and over and over again. Do we or don't we? Do we or don't we? How are we supposed to work together like that?"
He asked the better question. "How are we not supposed to work together?" We stood there quietly for a moment. "If that's all you wanted," I said, "I'm going back outside." I walked toward the door, but he finally stopped me in a word.
"Caroline."
I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my hands into fists. I was eager to resist him, but he was my Master, and he'd called my name, and that alone was enough to halt my march to the door.
"Unfair," I told him. "Unfair and too late."
"Maybe if I had more time."
"Ethan, I don't think there's enough time in the world."
"What did I tell you about the Breckenridges, Merit?"
"Never burn bridges," I recited back to him, and turned around, knowing where he was going. "Before you accuse me of that, Ethan, recall that you're the one who walked away. I'm only complying with your request. We'll forget it happened, we'll work together, and we will do everything in our power to protect the House, and that will be the extent of it."
I stopped before walking into the hallway, unable to take that final step without glancing back at him.
When I looked back, there was an ache in his expression. But I'd given him my best shot, and I wasn't up for sympathizing with a man who refused to reach for what he wanted.
"If that's all?" I asked.
He finally dropped his gaze. "Good night, Sentinel." I nodded and left.
I walked through the first floor of the House, and I didn't stop at the front door. I took the sidewalk to the gate and nodded to the guards, then scanned the street to the left and right, checking the road for paparazzi. They were obediently clustered at their designated cordon at the corner to the right. An easy call - I headed left.
I crossed my arms over my chest, head down as I walked. I knew Ethan would do this. It was the way he operated - one step forward, two steps back. Rinse and repeat. He'd make a move toward intimacy, then pull back. Then he would regret pulling back, and the cycle would start again. It's not that he didn't want me; he'd made that clear. But each time he let himself be human, the strategy chunk of his brain powered on and he retreated back to coldness. He had his reasons, and I could respect him enough not to imagine they didn't matter. But that didn't mean I agreed with him or that I thought his reasons - his excuses - were good ones.
I frowned at the sidewalk, feet moving beneath me, even though I'd hardly paid attention to the motion.
We were going to have to work together; that much was clear. I had to adapt. I'd adapted to being a vampire, and I was going to have to adapt to Ethan. I looked up as a limo pulled up to the street.
It was long. Black. Curvy. Sleek. Undoubtedly expensive.
The back passenger side window rolled down. Adam Keene looked back at me from the backseat, boredom in his expression.
"Adam?"
"Gabe wants to meet with you at the bar."
I blinked, confused. "Gabe? He wants to meet with me?" Adam rolled his eyes sympathetically. "You know how he is. Give me what I want, when I want it.
Which usually means immediately. Probably not unlike a Master vampire?"
"Why me? Why not Ethan?"
Adam made a little snort, then looked down at the phone in his hand. "Mine is not to question why . . . ," he muttered, then flipped the phone's screen toward me.
"GET KITTEN," read a text message from Gabriel. Okay, so the request was legit. But that didn't mean getting into a limo with Adam was the right move. I hesitated, glancing back at the gate, light from the House spilling onto the sidewalk. If I went, I figured I'd get a lecture from Ethan about leaving the House to talk to Gabe without permission . . . and without his oversight.
On the other hand, if I didn't go, I probably had a lecture in store about not being a team player and jumping when an Apex asked me to jump. And then I'd still have to hightail it to the bar, and not in the back of a swank limousine.
Besides, I had my dagger and my beeper. Ethan could find me if he needed to.
"Move over," I growled, then opened the door and climbed inside, pulling the door shut behind me.
"Start me off with a Shirley Temple," I told him, nodding toward the bar on one side of the limo, "and we'll see how far we get."
The limo stopped in front of Little Red. The street was empty of bikes, and the plywood was still over the window. The CLOSED sign still hung from the door. The driver got out and opened the back door, his face flat and emotionless. I threw out a "Thanks," then glanced back when Adam made no move to exit. He stayed in his seat, thumbs clicking at the keys on his phone. When he realized I'd paused, he looked up at me and grinned.
"It's not me he wanted to see," he said, dimples at the corner of his mouth. "I'll have Mr. Brown here circle the block a couple of times and give you two a minute, then join you when I'm done." He held up the phone in explanation. "I need to finish this."
"Your pitch," I said, then maneuvered out the door.
"Hey, Kitten," he said before I closed the door behind me.
I glanced back.
"Have fun in there."
The window lifted again and the limousine pulled back onto the street, then took the first right around the block. I walked toward the door.