Chicagoland Vampires - Some Girls Bite Part 5

I nodded absently.

My beautiful blond moved closer, until he stood in front of me, until, looking up, I could see the color of his eyes.

They were a deep, translucent, emerald green.

Impossibly green.

And as my heart sunk, I realized, familiarly green.

"s.h.i.t," was all I could think to say.

Our rangy Beckham look-alike was my sworn enemy.

CHAPTER THREE.

YOU GOTTA FIGHT FOR YOUR RIGHT.

"Merit?"

Pulled from my fantasy by the sudden flood of adrenaline, I clenched my hands into fists. I'd heard about the fight-or-flight instinct-the animalistic drive to dig in and fight for survival or to run away, seek shelter or cover. Before tonight, it had always been an abstract construct. Biological trivia. But I felt it after the attack on our house, and as I faced Ethan Sullivan for the first time, I felt it intimately. Some previously absent part of my psyche awoke and began to evaluate surroundings, to debate whether to set heel to the ground and get as far away from him as possible, or face him, stand against him, and even if the effort was doomed, to see what I was made of.

This was one of those moments, I thought, one of those make-or-break moments that set the direction of your life, that remind you about courage and free will.

I felt a nudge at my ribs, and heard a fierce whisper. "Merit!" I looked beside me, where Mallory stood, eying me curiously. "Are you okay? Ethan was just saying h.e.l.lo. Did you have something you wanted to say to him, maybe regarding an eath-day eat- thray?"

I slid my gaze back to Ethan, who watched me cautiously, then let my focus shift to the vampires, who stood at attention in the room. They'd stopped tapping the keys of their PDAs and were outright staring. Without looking at him, I asked, "Can we speak privately?"

He paused, apparently surprised, and then said in a voice smooth enough to send a second chill down my spine, "Of course."

His hand at my elbow, Ethan escorted me through the crowd of gaping vampires, back into the hallway, and then into the room next door. It was an office, masculine and well-appointed. His office. To the right was a sizable oak desk; to the left was a seating area of brown leather furniture. At the end of the room was a long, oval-shaped conference table, which stood just before a bank of windows covered by navy blue velvet curtains. Both side walls were lined with built-in shelves covered in books, trophies, photographs, and memorabilia.

Mallory followed us in, and Ethan closed the door. He waved his hand in invitation at two chairs that sat in front of his desk, but Mallory moved to the shelves at the far end of the room and, hands crossed behind her back, began to peruse the mementos. She gave us privacy without leaving me alone with him. Appreciating the gesture, I remained standing.

Ethan crossed his arms and gazed at me expectantly. "Well? To what do I owe the pleasure, Merit?"

I stared at him blankly for a moment, trying to remember why I thought visiting the Hyde Park office of a Master vampire was a good idea, when my mouth, which apparently wasn't privy to the internal debate, suddenly blurted out, "I didn't give you permission to change me."

Ethan stared at me for a moment before turning his head. He walked away, moving with self-a.s.surance to the leather chair behind his desk. For all the tailored clothes and impeccable looks, his power was obvious. He fairly hummed with it, and while his movements were crisp and elegant, they hinted at something darker, something menacing beneath the surface-a shark arcing below deceptively smooth water.

He shuffled papers on his desk, then crossed his legs and looked up at me with those obscenely emerald eyes. "Frankly, that's not what I expected to hear. I was hoping for something along the lines of 'Thank you, my Liege, for saving my life. I do so enjoy being alive.' "

"If saving me had really been your goal, you could have taken me to a hospital. A doctor could have saved me. You unilaterally decided to make me something else."

He furrowed his brow. "Do you think the vampire who bit you first intended to let you live?" "I didn't have a chance to ask him."

"Don't be naive."

I'd seen the press conference about Jennifer Porter's death, knew about the similarities between our attacks. So, unable to argue that point, I made another. "My life will never be the same."

"Yes, Merit," he said, frustration in his voice, "your human life will never be the same. It was, regrettably, taken from you. But we've given you another."

"It should have been my decision."

"I was a little short on time, Merit. And given that you are fully aware of the choice I had to make, this petulant att.i.tude is beneath you."

I didn't disagree, but who was he to tell me that? My throat constricted with emotion. "Excuse me for not having adjusted to the fact that my life has been turned upside down. Excuse me for not reacting to that with grace."

"Or gratefulness," he muttered, and I wondered if he knew he'd been loud enough for me to hear him. "I gave you a life. And I made you like me. Like the rest of your brothers and sisters. Are we such monsters?"

I wish I could have said yes. I wanted to say yes, to feign horror.

But a tear ran down my cheek, propelled by some combination of rage and guilt that I wasn't as repelled by Ethan Sullivan as I'd planned to be. I wiped away the tear with the back of my hand.

Ethan looked at me for a long time, and I could read the disappointment in his eyes. It bothered me, that disappointment, more than I cared to admit.

He steepled his fingers together on the desk, leaned forward. "Then perhaps I made a mistake. Cadogan House was allowed twelve new vampires this year, Merit. That makes you one-twelfth of my allotment. Do you think you were worth it? Do you think you can contribute to Cadogan in sufficient measure to repay that investment? Was my bringing you into the House a better decision than saving someone else to whom I might have given a new life?"

I stared at him, the value of the gift he'd given me, however much I hadn't wanted to become one of them, sinking in. I slid into the chair before me.

Ethan nodded. "I thought that might do it. Now, your objections to having been changed have been duly noted. So for the moment, what say we move on? I don't want that between us, even if you have decided I'm your mortal enemy." He lifted brows in challenge. I didn't bother to deny it.

I paused, then asked, "Duly noted?"

Ethan smiled knowingly. "Noted and recited in front of a witness." His gaze flicked to the corner of the room, and he gazed at Mallory with curiosity. "I haven't met your companion."

"Mallory Carmichael, my roommate."

Mallory glanced up from the thick book she was perusing. "Yo."

"And your backup, I presume," he said, rising and walking to a bar tucked into the bank of bookshelves on the left side of the room. He poured amber-colored liquor into a chubby gla.s.s and watched me over the rim as he sipped its contents. "I've met your father."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

He cradled the gla.s.s in his hands. "You aren't close to your family?"

"My father and I don't get along. We have different priorities. He's solely focused on building his financial kingdom."

"While Merit's not," Mallory offered from her corner. "She's perfectly happy dreaming about Lancelot and Tristan."

"Lancelot and Tristan?" he asked.

Embarra.s.sed at the love-struck teen implication, I stammered out, "I am-was-working on my dissertation. Before."

Ethan finished his drink and put the gla.s.s on the bar, then leaned back against it, arms crossed. "I see."

"Honestly, I doubt that you do. But if you hoped changing me would help you access Merit money, you're out of luck. I don't have it-either the money or the access."

Ethan looked momentarily startled, and didn't meet my gaze when he pushed off the bar and moved back to the desk. When he was seated again, he frowned at me-not in anger, I thought, but in puzzlement. "What if I said that I could give you things? Would that ease the transition?"

Across the room, Mallory groaned.

"I'm not my parents."

I was the recipient of another long stare, but this one held a glimmer of respect. "I'm beginning to see that."

Finally finding my footing-he may have been a vampire, but he was subject to human prejudices just like everyone else-I relaxed back into the chair, crossing my legs and arms, and arching a brow at him.

"Is that what you thought? That I'd see the Armani and the Hyde Park address, and I'd be so excited I'd forget that I hadn't consented?"

"Perhaps we've both misjudged the situation," he allowed. "But if there's such animus in your family, why do you go by 'Merit'?"

I glanced over at Mallory, who was picking a bit of lint from one of the heavy velvet curtains that lined the windows. She was one of only a handful of friends who knew the entire story, and I wasn't about to add Ethan Sullivan to that group.

"It's better than the other option," I told him.

Ethan seemed to consider that before averting his gaze to a pile of papers on his desk. He shuffled them. "And you aren't undead.

You aren't undead, or the walking dead, and Buffy isn't a reliable anatomical resource. You didn't die that night. Your blood was taken and replaced. Your heart never stopped beating. You're better now, genetically, than you were before. A predator. The top of the food chain. I've made you an immortal, a.s.suming you manage to keep out of trouble. If you follow the rules, you can have a long, productive life as a Cadogan vampire. Speaking of, did Helen give you everything you need? You received a copy of the Canon?"

I nodded.

"Have you had blood yet?"

"Bagged blood was delivered to the house, but I haven't had any. To be honest, it didn't look that appetizing."

"You got plenty during the transition, so the thirst hasn't hit you yet. Give it another day. You'll want it badly enough when First Hunger strikes." Ethan's lips tipped up, and he smiled. It was a little disarming-that smile. He looked younger, happier, more human. "Did you say bagged blood?"

"That's what was delivered. Why is that funny?"

"Because you're a vampire of the Cadogan line. You can drink directly from humans or other vampires. Just don't kill anyone."

I put a hand across my stomach, as if the touch could still the greasy wave that suddenly rolled through it. "I'm not going to bite someone. I don't want to drink at all, bagged or otherwise, people or not. You can't just go around and"-I waved a hand in the air-"chew on people."

Ethan clucked his tongue. "And to think-we were so close to having a normal conversation. Merit, you're an adult. I suggest you learn to accept your circ.u.mstances, and quickly. Like it or not, your life has changed. You need to come to terms with exactly who you are."

"I know who I am," I a.s.sured him.

A golden eyebrow winged upward. "You know who you were. I know who you are, Merit, and who you'll come to be."

"And what is that?"

His face was completely, serenely confident. "Mine. My vampire. My subject."

The possessiveness called my anger, and it rose, flowered and rushed across my body with a warmth that curled my toes. That warmth was delicious, and yet the emotion felt strange-separate, somehow. As if it wasn't my anger, but an anger inside me.

Whatever the source, it was pervasive, strong, and thrilling.

I stood up and asked him, my voice huskier, lusher, "Would you like to test that theory?"

Ethan's gaze dropped to my lips, and he wet his own, but when he responded, seconds later, his tone was chill. Composed. The tone of Master-subduing-rebellious-peon. "You forget yourself, Initiate. You're two days old. I've three hundred and ninety-four years. Do you really want to test your mettle against me?"

I wasn't completely stupid. I knew my answer to that question should have been a resounding no. But that didn't stop my body, which I was beginning to learn was operating on a completely different frequency from the rest of my brain, from responding with all the bravado it could muster, "Why not?"

A heavy silence descended, the only sound penetrating it the solid thud of my heart. Ethan pushed back his chair. "Come with me."

"What did you just do?"

Mallory and I followed Ethan back through the first floor of Cadogan House.

"I don't know," I whispered back. "Vampire Merit's a lot braver than People Merit."

"Yeah, well, you better figure out a way to reconcile the genetics, 'cause Vampire Merit just landed you in some serious s.h.i.t."

We took a right, descended a flight of stairs, and followed Ethan through another hallway to a set of antique wooden doors. The room we entered was huge and bright, the center of its wooden floor covered with a set of tatami mats. Half the height of the twenty-foot-high walls was covered in gleaming wood; the remainder, up to an overhanging balcony supported by ma.s.sive wooden columns, showcased an impressive collection of antique weaponry, including swords, maces, bows, axes, and wicked-looking knives.

This was a room for sparring.

It took a moment for the implication to settle in.

"You're kidding, right?" I asked, turning to him. "You can't actually think I'm going to fight you?"

Ethan regarded me coolly and began unb.u.t.toning his shirt. Question answered, I thought, and averted my eyes after the first peek of toned chest.

I walked into the middle of the floor, thinking I'd feel better if I had a better grasp on my surroundings. Ethan's a.r.s.enal was impressive-a set of crossed pikes, blue ribbons hung from their ends; a hefty broadsword; a black wooden shield bearing a golden oak tree, the acorns painted red; rows of unsheathed katanas."Experience?" Ethan called out behind me.

"Ballet and jogging. And whatever extra strength two days of being fanged will give me." I made the mistake of turning around just as he was pulling the b.u.t.ton-up shirt over his head. My mouth went dry. His shoulders were broad and perfectly sculpted, as was the rest of his torso. His chest was firm, his stomach flat and lean, dotted only by the pucker of navel and a thin line of dark blond hair that disappeared into the waist of his trousers. Around his neck was a thin gold chain, on which hung a tiny oval of gold with a design stamped into it. It looked like a saint's medal, although I doubt any saints would have approved of a Master vampire wearing it.

Ethan caught me staring and lifted a brow, and I looked quickly away. Mallory yelled my name, waving me frantically toward where she stood at the edge of the mats. When I reached her, she shook her head at me.

"You cannot seriously think you're going to fight this guy. He could kick your a.s.s with one arm tied behind his back, much less with all his voluminous vampire powers. He's probably stronger than you, faster than you. He can probably jump higher. h.e.l.l, he can probably glamour you into making out with him right there on the mats."

We simultaneously looked over to where Ethan, half naked, was toeing off black leather loafers. The muscles in his abdomen clenched as he moved. So did the lines of corded muscle across his shoulders.

G.o.d, but he was beautiful.

I narrowed my gaze.