DEMERITS
I wasn't entirely sure how to break the news to Ethan. How did you tell your boss that for no apparent reason, your enemy had confessed her evildoings and gone willingly into the arms of the Chicago Police Department?
Turned out, I didn't need to. After picking through the protesters to get into the House, I found half the House's vampires in the front sitting room, eyes glued to a flat-screen television that hung above the fireplace.
Tate stood in front of a podium in a charcoal gray suit, every hair in place, and a soothing smile on his face.
"We've discovered today that Celina Desaulniers, thought to be in the custody of officials in the UK, made her way back to Chicago. While here, she continued to create the chaos she'd begun before her first capture.
We've also learned that she was responsible for the increase in violence we've seen in the city.
Now, finally, the city of Chicago can breathe a sigh of relief. Life can return to normal, and vampires can return to being a part of the city, not antagonists. Rest assured, Ms. Desaulniers will stay in the custody of the Chicago Police Department in a facility we created just for the purpose of keeping the public safe from supernatural criminals. I also need to give credit to Merit, the Sentinel of Cadogan House."
"Oh, shit," I said aloud, half a dozen of the vamps in the room turning to stare at me, finally realizing I'd stepped into the room behind them, probably smelling of kebabbed meats and deep-fried candy bars.
"She was a crucial part," Tate continued, "of efforts to locate and apprehend Celina Desaulniers. Whatever your opinions of vampires, I ask - on behalf of the city - that you not judge all the individuals based on the actions of a few."
My beeper began to buzz. I unclipped it and glanced at the screen. It read, simply, OFFICE.
I blew out a breath, then looked up at the vamps in the room and offered a small wave. "It was lovely knowing you," I assured them, then turned on a heel.
I hustled down the hallway. The office door was cracked, so I pushed it open and found Darius, Ethan, and Malik inside. They were all seated at the conference table - Darius at the head, Malik and Ethan on the window side.
I didn't like the symbolism there, and my already-raw stomach began to churn again.
"Come in, Merit," Darius said. "And close the door."
I did as I was told and took a seat opposite Ethan and Malik. Ethan's expression was completely blank. My stomach tightened, but I'd already decided I wasn't going to be afraid any longer. It was time to talk.
"Sire," I said, "may I speak candidly?"
I heard Ethan's warning in my head, but I ignored it. There was a time to be meek, and a time to take a stand. At this point, I had nothing to lose.
Darius regarded me for a moment. "Speak."
"V was moving through the city. It was hurting our vampires, it was hurting humans, and it was hurting our relationship with the city. With all due respect to the concerns of the GP, we have to live here. We don't have the luxury of returning to another continent, and we couldn't simply ignore the problem. Shifters and humans were already turning against us. If we didn't act, we'd be in the middle of the war the sorcerers have predicted. I stand Sentinel for this House, and I acted in a manner consistent with the House's best interest, even if that interest, in your opinion, does not coincide with that of the GP."
When I was done, Darius looked at Ethan.
"Tonight's events do not reflect well upon the North American Houses or the Greenwich Presidium. We should not be involved in altercations in a public festival in one of the largest cities in the United States." He looked up at me. "We do not need the publicity, nor the heroics. What we need is respect for authority, for hierarchy, for chain of command.
Assimilation is how we've done that for centuries. Assimilation is how we'll continue to do it."
His gaze went ice-cold, as did the blood in my veins.
"Merit, consider yourself officially reprimanded by the GP. Your file will be annotated to reflect what you've done today. I hope you appreciate the seriousness of that action."
I actually didn't have any clue how serious it was, but that didn't matter. It felt like I'd been slapped in the face, every sacrifice and decision I'd made since becoming a vampire called into question.
I tried to obey the warning look Ethan shot me from across the table, but I was done playing GP doormat and blame magnet.
I stood up and pushed back my shoulders.
"Will my file be annotated to reflect the fact that I followed the leads to Celina, and that she admitted spreading V around the city? Will it reflect the fact that she helped arrange the raves so she could institute her new world order - which it sounds like she plans to institute without the GP? Will it reflect the fact that today we closed her down and saved the city and the GP a lot of trouble down the road?"
Darius was motionless. "Celina is a member of the GP and must be afforded the respect due to a member of the GP."
"Celina put dangerous drugs into the hands of vampires, drugs that could only lead to their destruction and incarceration. She is a murderer and an aider and abettor of murder. GP member or not, she needed to be stopped. I was a Chicagoan before I was a vampire, and when I have an opportunity to help this city - to do right by this city - I'm going to. GP be damned."
Silence.
"Your file will be annotated, your demerits noted. And while I find your bravado intriguing" - he slid his gaze to Ethan - "I strongly recommend you learn to control your House and your vampires."
When I looked back at Ethan, his expression was stony, his gaze on Darius.
"With all due respect, Sire," he bit out, "I do not control my vampires. I lead them. Merit has acted with my permission and in the manner befitting a Cadogan vampire and a Sentinel of this House. She has acted honorably to defend Cadogan, its Master, and its vampires. She has acted to protect this city from the criminals the GP has seen fit to let roam free. If you have a problem with her actions, then it's my file, not hers, that should be annotated. I trust her, fully and completely. Any action of hers bears on my leadership, not her abilities as a Sentinel nor her loyalty to the Presidium."
He looked at me with eyes that were radiantly green, this man who'd just stood up for me, defied his own master for me, trusted in me.
I was floored. Speechless. Moved to tears, and suddenly very, very nervous, both at the sentiment and its political cost.
But regardless of the surprise of Ethan's words, their generosity, his defense of my actions, Darius wasn't buying. He maintained the party line, and the House would suffer for it.
"Appointment of a receiver is clearly an inevitability," he said. "There is no way to avoid GP oversight of Cadogan House at this juncture.
I expect you will give the receiver the same access and respect that you would give me. Is that understood?"
Ethan bit out words. "Yes, Sire."
"In that case, Charlie has a car waiting and I need to get to the airport." He pushed back his chair and rose, then started for the door. "I can see myself out."
The room was silent as he crossed it, but a few feet from the door, he stopped and looked back.
"One way or the other, with your approval or without it, the receiver will put this House in order. I suggest you get used to that idea."
And then he turned and walked out the door, closing it firmly behind him.
Ethan put his elbows on his knees and ran his hands through his hair. "We did what we had to do. The GP will act as it deems appropriate."
"They're acting like na?ve children." We both looked at Malik. His expression was fierce. "I understand your according them due respect, Ethan, but this is completely irrational. They should be thanking Merit for what she's done.
Darius should be thanking the House for taking a threat off the streets. And instead, they're sending in a receiver? They're punishing this House for Celina's acts?"
"Not for her acts," Ethan said. "For the publication of those acts. It's less the action than the embarrassment he apparently believes we've caused the GP." He blew out a breath. "If only you'd staked her when you had the chance."
I had staked her, I thought to myself. I just hadn't hit her heart.
"This isn't the end of it," I warned. "Celina confessed too easily, and Paulie is still on the streets. I'm sure she's given him up to the cops at this point - she does usually love a scapegoat - but either way, it's not over."
"It's over enough," Ethan said. "We've done all we can do for this city on this particular issue.
Tate has been satisfied, and that was the point."
I nearly argued with him, but I could see the exhaustion and disappointment in his eyes, and I didn't want to add to his burden.
"Take the rest of the evening off," he said, rising from the conference table without making eye contact. "Sleep this off, and we'll regroup tomorrow and create a plan to get through the receivership."
We nodded obediently, watching as he moved across the room and through the office door.
I'd done nothing more and nothing less than my job had required. But why did I feel so miserable?
I tried to find space. I joined Lindsey in her room for a round of mindless television. That helped fill the evening, but it didn't calm the nerves in my stomach, or the flutter in my chest.
Two hours later, silently, I stood up, picked through the crowd of vampires who filled the floor, and went for the door.
"Going somewhere?" she asked, head tilted curiously.
"I'm going to find a boy," I said.
I was nervous as I made the trip to his room, afraid that if I stepped inside - both of us emotionally drained - he'd be able to slip past defenses I should keep intact. And worse - that we'd never be the same for it. That the House would never be the same for it.
I stood outside his door for a full five minutes, clenching and unclenching my hands, trying to build up the nerve to knock.
Finally, when I couldn't stand the anticipation any longer, I blew out a breath, pulled my fingers into a fist, and wrapped my knuckles against the door. The sound echoed through the hallway, oddly loud in the silence.
Ethan opened the door, his expression haggard. "I was just about to head to bed. Did you need something?"
It took me seconds to speak, to find courage to ask the question. "Can I stay with you?"
He was stunned by it, clearly. "Can you stay with me?"
"Tonight. Not anything physical. Just - "
Ethan slid his hands into his pockets. "Just?"
I looked up at him, and let the fear, frustration, and exhaustion show in my eyes. I was too tired to argue, too tired to care what the request might mean tomorrow. Too tired to fight back against the GP and him.
I needed companionship, affection. I needed to trust and be trusted in return.
And I needed that from him.
"Come in, Merit."
I stepped inside. He closed the doors to his apartments and turned off the lights, his bedside lamps glowing through the doors to his bedroom.
Without another word, he put his hands on my arms, and pressed his lips to my forehead.
"If 'just' is all you can give me now, then 'just' is what we'll do."
I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around him, and I let the tears flow.
"If he decides I'm his enemy?" I asked. "If he decides taking me out - or letting Celina take me out - is how he maintains control of the Houses?"
"You are a Cadogan vampire, by blood and bone. You have fought for this House, and you are mine to protect. My Sentinel, my Novitiate.
As long as I am here to do it, I will protect you.
As long as this House exists, you will have a home here."
"And if Darius tries to tear it down because of something I've done?"
Ethan sighed. "Then Darius is blind, and the GP is not the organization it has set itself up to be. It is not the protector of vampires it imagines itself to be."
I sniffed and turned my cheek into the coolness of his shirt. His cologne was clean and soapy, like fresh towels or warm linens. More comforting than it should have been, given the knot of fear still in my heart.
Ethan pulled away and moved to the bar on the other side of the room, then poured amber liquid from a crystal decanter into two chubby glasses. He put the top back on the decanter, then walked back and handed me a glass. I took a sip and flinched involuntarily. The liquor might have been good, but it tasted like gasoline and burned like dry fire.
"Keep drinking it," Ethan said. "You'll find it improves with each sip."
I shook my head and handed the glass back to him. "So it finally tastes good when you're completely drunk?"
"Something like that." Ethan drained his glass and deposited both on the closest table.
He took my hand and laced our fingers together, then led me to the bedroom, where he closed the bedroom doors. Two sets of doors, of finely honed and paneled wood, between us and humans and shifters and the GP and drug-addled vampires.
For what felt like the first time in days, I exhaled.
Ethan pulled off his jacket and placed it across a side chair. I toed off my shoes and stood there for a moment, realizing that in my haste to find him I hadn't bothered to think about clothing.
"Would you like a T-shirt?" he asked.
I smiled a little. "That would be great."
Ethan smiled back, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked across the room to a tall bureau. He opened a drawer and rifled through it before pulling out a printed T-shirt and tossing it to me. I unfolded it, checked the design, and smiled.
"You shouldn't have."
It was a "Save Our Name" T-shirt, printed as part of a campaign to ensure Wrigley Field kept that name. It was also very much my style.
Ethan chuckled, then disappeared into his closet. I slipped out of my clothes and into the T-shirt, which fell nearly to my knees. I chucked decorative pillows from his massive bed, then slid into cool cotton and closed my eyes in relief.
It may have been minutes or hours before he returned to the room and turned out the lights. I was already in and out of sleep, only vaguely aware of the press of his body behind mine. His arm snaked around my waist and pulled me tight against him, his lips at my ear. "Be still, my Sentinel. And sleep well."
He'd promised me that he'd be patient, that he'd wait for me, that he wouldn't be the one to kiss me again.
He followed through on his promise.
I woke in the middle of the day, the metal shutters still banking any light from the windows, but unusually aware of his body beside me . . . and of the craving that nearness inspired.
We'd moved apart in sleep, but I curled into him again, vaguely expecting him to react to the sensation with a kiss. He traced a finger through my hair, the act more comforting than erotic.
And it wasn't enough.
"Ethan," I muttered, my heart suddenly racing even as the sun glared down from its cradle in the sky. But as much as I wanted him, I couldn't take that next step. I couldn't force myself to move, to kiss him. Some of the hesitation was born from exhaustion, by the fact that I should have been unconscious until the sun sank again. But the rest was pure, unmitigated fear. Fear that if I made a move, kissed him, I'd be offering up my heart again, risking heartbreak again.
Instincts warred, because equally as powerful was the urge to step forward, to take what I wanted, to make the most of the kiss even if it wasn't the smartest thing I'd ever done.
As if he knew my struggle, he smoothed a hand over my hair. "Sleep, Sentinel. The time will come when you're ready. Until then, be still and sleep."
