Chicagoland Vampires - Friday Night Bites Part 10

"Precisely," Ethan said, swinging the car onto the street. He reached between us, lifted the gift bag, and handed it to me.

I took it, but arched a brow in his direction. "What's this?"

"The sword needs to remain in the vehicle," he said. "We will be spectacle enough without the accoutrements." Leave it to Ethan to refer to three and a half feet of steel, leather, and rayskin as "accoutrements."

"The bag," he said, "is a replacement. At least in some way."

Curious, I peeked inside and pulled out the contents. The bag held a black sheath, which held a blade-a thin, fierce dagger, mother-of-pearl covering the tang.

"It's beautiful." I slipped the dagger from its cover and held it up. It was an elegant and gleaming wedge of polished steel, sharp on both edges.

We pa.s.sed beneath a streetlight, and the reflection caught the end of the pommel, revealing a flat disk of gold. It looked like a smaller version of our Cadogan medals, this one also bearing my position.

CADOGAN SENTINEL, it read.

It was a dagger created for me. Personalized for me. "Thank you," I said, thumbing the disk.

"There's one more item in the bag."

Brow arched, I reached in again and pulled out a holster-two leather straps attached to a thin sheath.

No, not just a holster-athigh holster.

I glanced down at my skirt, then over at Ethan. I really wasn't eager to strap on a thigh holster, much less in front of him. Maybe because I didn't want to flip up my skirt for my boss. Maybe because a few-inches-long dagger wouldn't be nearly as effective in a rumble as my katana. Not that I antic.i.p.ated an attack by society mavens, but stranger things had happened. Especially recently.

Besides, I was Ethan's only guard for the event, and I'd be d.a.m.ned if I was going to return to Cadogan House with a wounded Master in tow. Even if I lived through the attack, I would never live down the humiliation.

I sighed, knowing when I'd lost, deciding that the dagger would be better than nothing.

"Keep your eyes on the road," I ordered, then unfastened the buckles.

"I'm not going to look."

"Yeah, well, keep it that way."

He made a disdainful sound, but kept his gaze on the windshield. He also gripped the steering wheel a little harder. I enjoyed that crack in his facade probably more than I should have.

I was right-handed, so I slipped the poufy skirt of my dress up a little on the right side and extended my right hand, trying to figure out where I'd want the blade positioned if I needed to grab it in a hurry. I settled on a spot about midway up my thigh, the sheath just to the outside edge. I fastened the first buckle, then the second, and twisted a little in the seat to make sure it was secure.

The sheath had to be tight enough to stay taut when I pulled out the blade. That was the only way to ensure that I could release the knife quickly and safely. On the other hand, too tight and I'd cut off my own circulation. No one needed that, much less a vampire.

When I was satisfied it was secure, at least as sure as I could be in the front seat of a roadster speeding toward the suburbs, I inserted the blade. A tug brought the dagger out in a clean swipe, the holster still inplace.

"Good enough," I concluded. I straightened my skirt again, then looked over at Ethan. We were coasting through relatively light traffic on the interstate, but his expression of blandness looked a little too bland.

He was working very hard to look very uninterested.

Since we were heading into an enemy camp, I figured I'd pique his interest-and give him the dutiful Sentinel update. "You'll never guess who was camped out on photographers' row last night," I said, baiting him.

"Jamie?" His voice was sardonic. I think he was kidding. Unfortunately, I wasn't.

"Nicholas."

His eyes widened. "Nicholas Breckenridge? At Cadogan House."

"Live and in person. He was on the corner with the paparazzi."

"And where was Jamie?"

"That was my question, too. I'm beginning to think, Sullivan, that there is no Jamie-I mean, I know there's a Jamie, but I'm not sure Jamie is the real threat here. At the very least, we don't have the entire story."

Ethan made a dry sound. "This wouldn't be the first time for that, as you're well aware. Wait-did you say last night? You saw Nick Breckenridge outside the House and you didn't tell anyone? Did you think to mention this to me? Or Luc? Or anyone else with authority to handle the situation?"

I ignored the near panic in his tone. "I'm mentioning it now," I pointed out. "He asked some pretty pointed questions about the Houses, about Celina. He wanted to know if we thought her punishment was sufficient."

"What did you tell him?"

"Party line," I said. "You guys were very timely with the talking points."

"Did you know he was back in Chicago?"

I shook my head. "I also didn't know that he was curious about us. It's like a disease working its way through that family."

"I suppose it's doubly fortuitous that we're heading to the Breck estate."

Or doubly troublesome, I thought. Double the number of would-be rabble-rousers in residence.

"Ethan, if the raves could cause us such a problem-negative attention and backlash-why are we focused on the story, whoever is writing it? Why are we driving to Loring Park, trying to work the press instead of trying to stop the raves?"

He was quiet for a moment until he asked gravely, "We aren't trying to stop them?"

That made me sit up a little straighter. I'd a.s.sumed, being House Sentinel, that if some kind of mission was going down I'd be a part of it. Clearly that wasn't the case.

"Oh," I said, not happy to discover there were secret plans afoot and I hadn't been included.

"Stopping the story isn't controversial, not for vampires anyway," Ethan said. "Stopping the raves is.

Raves happen outside the House establishment, but that doesn't mean the Houses don't know they occur. And I have no authority over other Masters, over other Houses' vampires, any more than I do the city's Rogues."

Much to your own chagrin, I thought.

"Frankly, although plans are in the works, largely through your grandfather's efforts, it's unlikely we can put a stop to them completely. Your grandfather has excellent connections, strong mediating skills, and a loyal staff. But vampires, being vampires, will drink."

"And so we spin," I said.

"The first front is the press," he agreed. "It's not the only front, but it's the battle we fight tonight."

I blew out a breath, not eager for the skirmish-Merit versus the world she left behind.

"It's going to be fine," Ethan said, and I glanced over at him with surprise. Both that he'd read me so well and that he'd responded supportively.

"I hope so," I told him. "I'm not thrilled about the possibility of running into Nick again, and you know how I feel about my father."

"But not why," Ethan softly said. "Why the animosity? This breach between you?"I frowned out the window, unsure how much I wanted to share with him. How much ammunition I wanted to give him.

"I wasn't the daughter my father wanted," I finally said.

Silence. Then, "I see. Are you close to Charlotte and Robert?"

"I wouldn't say there's animosity there, and we stay in touch, but they're not on speed dial." I didn't tell him that I hadn't talked to my siblings in a month. "We just don't have that much in common." Robert was preparing to take over my father's business; Charlotte was married to a physician and populating the world with tiny new Merits. Well, Mrs. Dr. Corkburger-Merits.

Oh, yeah.Corkburger .

"Do they share your animosity toward your father?"

"Not really," I told him, looking out the window. "I didn't acclimate well to the socializing. Charlotte and Robert did. We were all born into it, but they thrived. They're, I don't know, equipped for it. For that kind of lifestyle, that kind of attention, for the constant compet.i.tion. I think because of that there was less friction between them and my father. Their relationship was, I don't know, easier?"

"And what did you do while they were enjoying the Merit advantage?"

I chuckled. "I spent a lot of time in libraries. I spent a lot of time with books. I mean, my home life was peaceful. My parents didn't fight. We had, materially, everything we needed. I was fortunate in many ways, and I realize that. But I was a dreamer, not much interested in the societal goodies." I laughed.

"I'm a reader, not a fighter."

Ethan rolled his eyes at the admittedly lame joke. "And clearly not a comedian," he said, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. He guided the Mercedes off the freeway and onto a divided highway. I watched neighborhoods pa.s.s, some houses lit, others dark, human families engaged in the act of living.

I glanced over at him. "We're getting close. What's the plan?"

"Ingratiation and groundwork," he said, eyes scanning the road. "You reintroduce yourself to these people, let them know you're back and that you belong. That everything due to the Merits-the respect, the access, the approbation-is due to you as well. We determine what we can about this supposed story, Jamie's involvement, Nick's involvement." He shook his head. "Your news of Nick's visit muddies the water somewhat, and we need to know where we stand. And based on that information, if your father is there, we consider whether there are ways he can help."

My stomach twisted in unpleasant antic.i.p.ation. I was more than willing to give up what was "due" to me as a Merit in order to avoid my father. But this was about access, about neutralizing a threat. I was a big enough girl to take one for the team.

"And we're the bribe?" I asked.

Ethan nodded. "Your father is an ambitious man, with ambitious goals for his business and his family. You provide him access to a certain segment of the population."

"A fanged segment," I added. "Let's not doubt his real interest: I'm delivering him a Master vampire."

"Whether it's one or both of us he wants to see, remember who you are. Neither a Master nor merely a Merit, but a powerful vampire in her own right."

We pa.s.sed into rural, wooded acreages, a sign we were nearing our destination. We'd just turned onto a tree-lined road, dark in the absence of streetlights, when Ethan-without warning-slowed and pulled the Mercedes onto the shoulder. When the engine was off and the car silent, he flicked on the overhead light and looked at me.

I watched him, waiting, wondering why he'd stopped the car.

"Celina's release concerns me," he finally said.

"Concerns you?"

"As you know, in the past, the GP's focus has been the protection of Housed vampires and a.s.similation into human society. Ensuring our immortality."

I nodded. The precursor to the GP had been created in the aftermath of the First Clearing. Survival was the directive.

"And you're concerned that Celina's release signals what, a new era?"

Ethan paused, ran a hand through his hair, and finally nodded. "Humans will die. Vampires will die. Ican't imagine any other end to the story."

He quieted again, and this time when he looked at me, his expression was different-full of determination. Motivational speech on its way, I a.s.sumed.

"We have reminded humans about our existence. Tonight, we remind them of our connections. We will need every advantage we can get, Merit. For whether her plans are long term, short term, some sort of minor insurrection, outright rebellion, the demand of political rights-something is coming."

"Something wicked."

Ethan nodded. "The thumbs have been p.r.i.c.ked, at least proverbially."

I raised a hand to my neck, now healed and free of scars, once torn out by a vampire she'd convinced to kill me. "Not proverbially," I said. "Whatever spell she's 'conjuring,' she's already spilled blood, turned vampires against their Masters, convinced the GP-and treasonous or not, I'll admit I'm not impressed so far-that the death of humans is merely collateral damage."

He made a sound of agreement, but gripped the wheel again, thumbs tapping nervously against the leather wrap. Since we were still parked, I a.s.sumed there was more to it.

I looked over at him, tried to ferret out his motivation, some clue as to what else remained. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"I've talked to Malik and Luc," he said, almost defensively, as if I was questioning his adherence to his own chain of command.

"That's not what I asked you."

"You're Sentinel of my House."

Too easy an answer, I thought, and too quick a response. "Why, Ethan?"

"I don't know if I'm strong enough to say no to her."

This time, it took me a moment to respond. "To say no?"

Voice softer, words slower, he said, "If she tries to convince me to join her cause by using blood or glamour against me, I'm not sure that I can say no."

You could have heard a pin drop in the car. I stared forward, shocked at the admission, that he'd share this info-thisweakness -with me. The girl he'd asked to be his Consort. The girl who'd refused him.

The girl who'd witnessed, firsthand, his betrayal by Amber. The girl who'd seen the look on his face when Amber confessed her sin, her involvement in Celina's conspiracy.

The girl who'd felt the thrust of Celina's glamour, and powered through it. But so had he.

"You said no in the park," I reminded him. "When she confessed her involvement in the murders, when she wanted you on her side, you said no."

Ethan shook his head. "She wanted to be caught, to play martyr. That was hardly the extent of her glamour, the tools she's using against the GP."

"And Malik and Luc?"

"They aren't as strong as me." The unfortunate implication being that if Ethan was worried about his ability to withstand the glamour, Luc and Malik had little hope.

"Glamour," Ethan said, "is about convincing someone to do something they wouldn't ordinarily do. It's not like alcohol- Celina didn't lower the inhibitions of the GP members. She has controlled them."