Chapter Five
BED-AND-BREAKFAST
I woke alone, Ethan’s side of the bed already cool.
That wasn’t necessarily a problem. Although vampires theoretically woke when the sun set, in reality there was some variation. Ethan always woke earlier than me, so it wasn’t unusual for him to begin work before I’d been dragged back into consciousness.
Still. I felt like there was something between us, and I didn’t look forward to dragging it out of him.
Maybe, like Ethan, I could avoid it for just a little while.
I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, typed out a message for Jonah: AWAKE. YOU READY TO INVESTIGATE?
While I waited for an answer, I scanned the dailies, the schedule, alerts, and other info Luc provided to guards every evening. “Fret over GP” wasn’t listed, but I’d put good money on the possibility it would fit into the schedule somehow.
My phone beeped when Jonah responded. I HAVE SOURCE IN MIND, BUT PARKING’S IFFY. PICK YOU UP IN AN HOUR?
DONE, I told him, and climbed off the bed to get dressed.
Since I’d be out and investigating, I skipped the Cadogan black suit for jeans, a long, dark tank, and my leather jacket against the spring chill. When my hair was brushed and gleaming, my medal was in place, and my katana was in hand, I headed downstairs to the House’s first floor.
I paused at the first-floor landing, eyes closed and a hand on the banister, reveling in the scent of freshly cooked bacon. The back of the House’s first floor was filled by a school-style cafeteria that served more shade-grown, free-range, organic nonsense than a processed-food lover like me usually preferred to eat. Thankfully, though, Margot rarely skipped the bacon. If that’s because we were friends, it was fine by me.
My stomach growled with hunger, undiminished by the small thread of worry woven in my thoughts. There’d been at least one threat against Ethan, and I suspected the note was a second. But he wouldn’t give me the details, and I wasn’t confident he’d tell anyone else.
Well, screw that. He had to either tell me or tell Luc. I could live with either. The latter would sting, but I could live with it.
What kind of threat couldn’t he tell me about? If it was about me, he’d have locked me away in the apartments; there’d be no avoiding it. If it was against the House, he’d have told me and Luc, probably in a meeting.
Perhaps, I thought, as I walked to his office, the issue wasn’t the nature of the threat, but its source. Someone he didn’t want me to know about? A former enemy? I didn’t doubt that Ethan had them, but the only ones I was aware of were deceased, or he’d already challenged them. Celina Desaulniers, the former Master of Navarre House, was dead by my hand. He’d outright challenged Darius. The vampire who made him, whom I knew only as Balthasar, had been a monster, but he was dead.
I peeked in the open doorway, found the office empty. Since my stomach growled insistently, I walked to the cafeteria at the end of the hallway. It was arranged in college fashion—a buffet line of food on one side, wooden chairs and tables on the other. The back wall was glass, picture windows that looked out on the Cadogan grounds. The world outside was dark, but landscape lights and torches lit the spring grounds like a fancy resort.
I grabbed a tray, moved into line, and selected orange juice, blood, bacon and eggs, and a chocolate croissant as big as a softball. Not that I had any problem with that.
My tray full, I scanned the tables, looking for friendly faces, found Lindsey and Margot at a table together.
Lindsey wore her Cadogan black suit, her blond hair pulled into a high knot. Margot wore her chef’s whites, her sleek dark bob perfectly edged, with bangs that dipped to a point in the middle of her forehead, framing her eyes. Apparently taking a break from her cooking duties, she scooped oatmeal and fruit from a pretty flowered dish.
I walked over, only barely managing not to attempt a hands-free bite of the croissant, but I did have some pride.
“Good evening, sleepyhead.” Lindsey patted the seat of the chair beside her. “How was your double date?”
I smiled, slid out the chair, and took a seat. “It wasn’t a date.”
“Ethan plus Jonah equals date,” she said.
“Ethan plus Jonah equals snarky comments. And in this case, murder.”
Margot frowned. “Yikes. That’s unfortunate. Anyone we know?”
“Detective Jacobs’s son, unfortunately.”
Margot put a hand on her chest. “Oh, that’s awful. Jacobs is the one who helps us out, right? Your grandfather’s friend?”
I nodded. “Jonah and I are going to do some follow-up today about the murder weapons. Hopefully we can use that to find some information about the killer.”
“You had a big night,” Margot said. “Barely avoid a drive-by, then drive right into a crime scene.”
I took a bite of eggs. “The life of a Sentinel is often less than glamorous.”
“You got an Ethan Sullivan out of the bargain,” Margot said with a wink. “Suck it up.”
I managed not to mention the downsides of that particular arrangement.
“So the drive-by thing,” Margot said. “That’s got to be GP related, right?”
“It’s GP related,” I agreed, opting not to offer up the specifics. I didn’t think there was anything to be gained by frightening the rest of the House with the details of the threat.
“Ethan’s a challenge to the status quo,” Lindsey said. “Some aren’t comfortable with that.”
Margot nodded. “You are preaching to the choir. Blood notwithstanding, vampires aren’t the most culinarily adventurous group.”
“That reminds me—Ethan will be coming to you about a bet that I lost.”
Her brows lifted with amusement. “I am intrigued.”
“Cool your jets. It was about the 5K. We bet a meal, and he won. If he requests you make something like duck fingers in aspic, try to steer him away, will you?”
“A novel idea,” Margot said. “I don’t think ducks have fingers, but I get the point.”
“Speaking of novel ideas, which I’d swear to God are the sole property of the women in this House, nice job getting Luc and Ethan together yesterday. Luc was feeling much, much better at sunset.” Lindsey smiled wickedly over the rim of her juice.
I bit into bacon, shook my head. “I don’t need to know that. And I’d bet Margot didn’t either.”
“Oh, I’m fine with it,” she said, popping a blueberry. “I’ve been single lo these many months.”
Lindsey gave Margot an appraising glance. “You know, Jonah’s also single.”
Margot waved her spoon. “I wasn’t complaining; I’m on a hiatus. Long-term relationship gone bad,” she added, with a glance at me. “I’m not in a place to date anyone else, and perfectly happy on my own.”
“Brown butter and foie gras can’t keep you happy forever,” Lindsey said.
“Says you. Throw in a decent lemon tart now and again, and I’m perfectly fine.” She glanced at her watch. “And speaking of which, I’ve got meals to prepare and vampires to feed.” Margot rose, pushed in her chair. “I’ll see you ladies later.”
“Later, gator,” Lindsey said.
“Ladies,” Brody said, pulling a chair around and sitting down backward, his long and lanky legs straddling the chair, his blue eyes shining. “What’s the story?”
“Sun’s shining on the other half of the world,” Lindsey said. “That’s all I need to know.” She gave him a flat stare. “Aren’t you on duty right now?”
“Yeah. I mean, in a few minutes.” He smiled guilelessly. “Just came down to grab a bite. I am starving tonight.”
I could practically see the glint of wickedness in Lindsey’s eyes, and I pushed back my chair just slightly to get out of her verbal path.
“So, to be clear, the fate of this House is in your hands, but you decided that instead of getting to the business of security a few minutes early, you’d cowboy into the cafeteria and ‘grab a bite’?”
Brody’s cheeks pinkened. “Um, so, I just thought—”
“You thought?” Lindsey prompted.
He got up so fast the chair toppled over, hitting the floor with a clatter that had the rest of the vampires in the room turning to look.
“Sorry,” he said, waving sheepishly as he righted the chair. “I’ll just grab something to go and get to work.” Without waiting for her approval, he scurried toward the food line, grabbed two bottles of blood, and hustled out of the room.
I glanced back at her, found her eyes narrowed, her lips pressed together.
“You enjoyed that a little too much.”
She shook her head. “Nope. There’s no such thing.”
“This isn’t a military school. You don’t have to haze him.”
“I don’t have to,” Lindsey said with a wink. “But if I can’t haze the newbies, what’s a vampire to live for?”
Bacon seemed the obvious and eternal answer.
My hour before Jonah’s pickup was nearly up, so I tried one more time to check in with Ethan before leaving the House. I knocked gingerly on the office door and, at Ethan’s terse “Come in,” opened it.
Ethan and Malik were in the sitting area on opposite sides of the coffee table, papers spread between them.
Ethan glanced up, nodded. “Sentinel.”
“Sullivan.” I walked closer, took in spreadsheets and dollar signs. “This looks unfortunately numeric.”
“The welfare of the House is never unfortunate,” Ethan said, and a glance at Malik’s bland expression told me he trotted that one out regularly.
“Mmm-hmm. So, as we discussed yesterday, Jonah texted. He’s got an idea about sourcing the sword. He’s going to pick me up in a few minutes.”
“I believe I’ll let you handle that particular assignment. But I’ll walk you to the door.”
“Be careful out there, Merit,” Malik said.
“I’m going to try my best. Good job with those numbers.”
Malik winked in response.
The hallway was busy, well-suited Cadogan Novitiates hustling to the cafeteria or the front door and the jobs that awaited them outside the House. They smiled at Ethan, called him “Liege” as they passed, making note of their equally well-suited Master.
We stopped in the foyer, and I waited a moment, expecting Ethan to kiss me good-bye. Instead, he launched into instructions.
“Find out if they have any information about Darius. I still don’t think he sent the driver, and if he didn’t, then he’s not responded to my challenge. Perhaps they’ve heard more than we have—a plan. A response. When we might expect the bomb to be dropped.”
“And here I thought you were going to kiss me good-bye. Can I remind you that you objected to my membership in the RG?”
“I use the tools in my arsenal,” he said. “And the RG, as we know, is a valuable source of information. Be safe,” he said, pressing his mouth to mine. The kiss was hot and insistent. Brief as it was, by the time he released me, I thought my body might burn from the inside out.
“I will,” I said, when I could manage words, and tapped my katana. “I’m armed. I’m sure Jonah will be, too. Don’t leave the House without a guard.”
“I won’t,” he said, but I wasn’t sure if I believed him. Ethan Sullivan would do whatever he damn well pleased, because he was Master of his House and wanted to be the Master of all of them.
But I’d known that from the beginning and signed up anyway.
We said our final good-byes, and I walked outside and trotted down the front stairs. Jonah’s car sat in front of the gate, where two humans, a man and a woman, stood guard.
I had a twinge of regret and guilt as I passed through them, thinking of Angelo and Louie, the human guards who’d been struck down to keep us safe.
“Ma’am,” said the woman, standing at attention as I walked past.
“Have a good night,” I told them. “And a safe one.”
“That’s our job,” she said with unerring confidence.
I appreciated the enthusiasm and hoped their luck held out.
Jonah, who knew me much too well, had a bottle of blood and a candy bar ready when I climbed into the sedan.
“I ate breakfast. And even if I hadn’t, I don’t need to be fed.”
He checked the mirrors, pulled into traffic. “Since you’ve already opened that candy bar, I presume said breakfast didn’t do much for you.”
I considered offering him a bite but decided he didn’t deserve it.
“Where are we going, exactly?”
“To a place with abundant weapons and folks interested in them. We’re going to use the tsubas as fingerprints and track down the fingers from whence they came.”
“That is a very weird metaphor.”
“I buy you a candy bar, and you insult me. Well, the joke’s on you. It was loaded with protein and vitamins.”
“Spoilsport.”
“I’m your partner, not your boyfriend.”
Since Ethan usually tried to ply me with protein and vegetables, rather than foods of the overprocessed, candy-coated, and deep-fried varieties, I didn’t think the distinction held much water. But Jonah had fed me, so I didn’t argue the point.
“Just drive the car,” I grumbled.
The drive took thirty minutes through stop-and-go traffic, and that only got us to the exit. Cars were lined up on the off-ramp, a circle that dumped nearly into the main entrance of the Chicago Mid-City Convention Hall.