Twice Bitten (30 page)

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.

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.

“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.