Blood Games

“Nicole Heart is the woman who threatened you.”



He paused before answering. “Yes.”



“And?” I prompted.



He shifted his body but didn’t look at me. “And she’s my problem.”



He was baffling and utterly infuriating. I kept my voice low and steady, barely masking my rage.



“She’s coming here tonight, this woman who’s blackmailing you. She’s blackmailing you because she wants you to back down from seeking the GP spot, which you obviously haven’t done.”



“And?”



“And? And, what if she reveals the information she has on you?”



He was quiet for a moment. “She won’t. Not now.”



“Because?”



“Because, for better or worse, Darius just sanctioned the House and my challenge. She can’t make a play now, not with blackmail. Not when she knows I could just as easily reveal her ploy—her very dishonorable ploy—to Lakshmi and the other Houses. She may try other things,” he added, sounding very tired, “but it won’t be blackmail.”



“It doesn’t have to be blackmail to be torturous,” I pointed out.



Ethan lifted a shoulder, resigned.



Being a Master, I realized, was like playing an eternal and worldwide game of chess. I took a cautious step forward. “Let me help you with this. Let me take some of the burden.” Let me help us.



“I talked to Luc.”



I opted for honesty . . . and the vulnerability it brought with it. “I know. And I’m glad you talked to somebody, but honestly, Ethan, it’s a punch that you won’t talk to me.”



“It’s not a punch. It has nothing to do with you. And it’s better that way.”



Two excuses, both of them crap. “Better for me, or for you?”



I waited for an answer but got none. Just the stiff set of his shoulders and the obvious weight on his heart and soul. “This conversation is done.”



I walked closer to him. “You may think you’re protecting me. But keeping me in the dark doesn’t protect me. It hides the monsters, and it sets us back.”



It sets me back, I thought.



But Ethan just looked at the skyline again. “Get to the Ops Room and help Luc get ready.”



“Liege,” I bit out, then turned on my heel and stalked back into the House, muttering very unflattering things about its Master.



* * *



I found Luc and Lindsey in the foyer, heading for the basement stairs.



“Luc.”



He stopped and turned back, sent Lindsey on her way while he waited for me to catch up.



“We should talk about Nicole. I’ve already put most of it together,” I quietly said, recognizing the discomfort in his expression.



Luc looked around, drew me into an alcove behind the staircase. “I don’t know all the history. Just that they knew each other when Ethan became a vampire.”



“With Balthasar?”



He nodded.



“Were they lovers?”



“I don’t know.”



“Nicole’s the one who’s been threatening the House—and doing it because she wants to lead the GP. And now she’s coming here to face him outright. He doesn’t think she’ll go through with her . . . original . . . plan.” I skipped the word “blackmail” since I still wasn’t sure how much Luc knew. “But we know she’s conniving, so she may try something else. Will she hurt him? Or the House?”



“If she’s willing to blackmail Ethan to win a spot on the GP, I imagine her ethics are flexible.”



I guessed Ethan had told him the truth. “Tell me what you know about her.”



“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just give me an order because you’re under some stress.”



“Sorry,” I murmured, since he had a point.



He nodded, acknowledging the apology. “Nicole’s smart, competent. Extra-strong strat. She was assimilated for a very long time before Heart House was founded. Went to college, law school, business school. Excelled at all three. Was married to another vampire for a while, but it didn’t last. Her doing, I understand. Staring down eternity made her less than thrilled about ‘settling.’ That type. Heart’s a fairly insular House. Good reputation, solid financial standing, but they don’t mix it up with the other Houses very often.”



“Is she supportive of the GP?”



“Very much so.” He crossed his arms. “Frankly, I’m a little surprised to learn she issued a challenge.”



So had Nicole bided her time—obeyed the rules—and waited for an opportunity to take over the throne? Had she been angry that Ethan had beaten her to the punch? That would explain why she wanted him out of the race, and why she was willing to resort to blackmail to do that.



“How much are you going to tell the others about her?”



Luc frowned, scratched an ear. “That she sent the driver. I can’t let her catch the guards—the House—unawares. But I don’t see any need to get into the specifics with Ethan. If he hasn’t told you . . .”



“Then he wouldn’t want the guards to know,” I finished for him.



“He’ll come around,” Luc quietly said, sympathy etched on his face.



He would or wouldn’t. Either way, she’d threatened me and mine, and we were going to have a chat about that. “I want five minutes alone with Nicole.”



He watched me for a moment. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”



I let him see the pent-up anger, fear, frustration, in my eyes. “Not at all. Which makes me want to do it even more.”



Luc smiled, probably against his better judgment, and nodded. “What my Sentinel wants, my Sentinel gets.” He put a hand on his chest. “Just remember—keeping him safe is my life’s work. Let’s get downstairs and get ready for this thing.”



* * *



The atmosphere in the Ops Room was intense. Luc kept two temps on the security cameras, gathered the rest of us around the conference table while he took the chair at the end.



“Brody,” Luc prompted.



Brody tapped a tablet on the table in front of him. The projector screen on the opposite wall brightened and filled with a tidy black-and-white chart.



“This is the schedule Darius’s people just sent over,” he said. “Lakshmi is presently en route. Darius apparently got the message to her early.”



“How thoughtful,” Lindsey dryly said.



“No shit,” Luc muttered, then gestured to Brody to continue. “Continue, newbie.”



Brody nodded, aimed at the schedule with a laser pointer. “Lakshmi will be here first. Her plane lands in about two hours. Nicole will be here about three. Lakshmi will meet with both of them, and the psych test will take place at five o’clock. The physical test will take place tomorrow at midnight, and the scores from both tests will be tabulated. The top three contenders make it onto the slate, and then the Houses vote.”



I leaned forward, linked my hands on the table. “How bad are the tests going to be? They have to run an obstacle course, or what?”



“The Prelect sets the challenges,” Luc said. “That’s Lakshmi, at least temporarily, so that could help us. The psych test is . . . intrusive. He’ll face a strong psych who’ll access his mind, his memories, his love, his fears. Poke around in there with a stick and see what gets stirred up.”



Vampires weren’t universally strong. Their abilities varied, and they were rated internationally by three measures: strength, psychic skill, strategic ability. Amit Patel, a friend of Ethan’s, was currently the strongest vampire in the world. It took strength, skill, and resolve to become a Master, but that didn’t mean I wanted Ethan subjected to psychological battery.



“Will it hurt him?” I asked.



“It won’t be a skip through the park with Mary Poppins. There’s at least one report on record of a Master being incapacitated by the testing. They broke his mind.”



“Oh good,” I weakly said, and sat back in the chair.



“In fairness, that particular vampire was notoriously weak—got the job as Master because of some well-placed bribes.”



So Ethan’s innate, infuriating stubbornness would actually help him here. That was something, anyway. “And the physical test?”



“The obstacle-course analogy isn’t totally off,” Luc said. “He’ll be presented with a physical challenge, and he’ll be scored on his success.”



“His strength?” I asked.



“His survival.”



My blood ran cold. “Jesus, Luc.”



“That’s the deal, Sentinel. He knew what he was getting into, and you know he’s stubborn enough to go forward with it.”



I nodded, but I wasn’t sure that made me feel better.



“Now,” Luc said. “As we all know, in addition to the rigorous and dangerous testing practices, there is one more small wrinkle. Brody,” he prompted, and Brody replaced the schedule with a photograph of Nicole Heart.



“We have information which does not leave this room,” Luc said, “that Nicole Heart is responsible for the shooting at the Cadogan Dash.”



There were murmurs around the room.



“And now she’s coming to our House, to stand against our Master. She’s an official challenger, so she has a right to be here. But I do not trust her, any of her entourage, and you shouldn’t, either. Her primary goal is to win the GP, at any cost. She apparently believes that Ethan is a real contender for that throne, and she’s willing to do what it takes to keep him out of it.”



“You’re thinking she could fix the tests?” Lindsey asked. “Or sabotage them?”



“Lakshmi’s proctoring,” Luc said, “so we’ve got an ally there. I don’t think she’d let Nicole get away with any obvious hanky-panky. The problem is, we don’t know what she’ll try, so we can’t plan ahead for the specifics. Thus, we go in on high alert, and we treat her like an enemy combatant. If you see or hear anything suspicious, you report it. She’s already demonstrated a willingness to be violent. She will not be violent in this House. Is that understood?”



There was a peppering of “sirs” around the room.



“Good. In that case, you know what you have to do.” He looked at me. “Merit, why don’t you take a stroll around the grounds, get a good look-see? No point in taking any chances, and you haven’t had the joy of a patrol walk recently.”



I rose from my chair as guards and temps returned to their stations. But I had one more trick up my sleeve, so I walked to the other end of the table, took the chair beside Luc.



“Sentinel?” he asked.



Mallory had suggested I make a secret play to break through Ethan’s stalemate. She was right. And talk of Balthasar and Nicole made me think of the men and women he’d met in his centuries as a vampire.



Maybe some allies were better in situations like this than others. Maybe some were more powerful.



“I have an idea. Something I think might be the jolt Ethan needs. The timing’s tight, but it might at least help him before the phys test tomorrow.”



Luc cocked his head. “I’m listening.”



“We need to support him, to support the House, and to show Nicole Heart that we don’t stand for nonsense. I think we do that with sheer vampire power.” I smiled fiercely.



“I think we call Amit Patel. And I think we invite him to Chicago.”



* * *



The night air was cool, but compared to the claustrophobic energy inside the House, it was a welcome relief.



The guards at the gate nodded as I passed by them and turned to head around the block. Cadogan House was situated in the middle of a large tract of land, surrounded by green space on all sides, the border marked by a privacy hedge and a tall, black, iron gate. That was where I traveled tonight, walking the perimeter to ensure there’d been no breach, no enemy plot, just like a sentry might have done two hundred years ago at the perimeter of his castle, sword at the ready.



It wasn’t unusual for paparazzi to be parked outside the House; their presence waxed and waned with the public’s interest and their desire to find dirt. Tonight, with murders on Chicago’s mind, there were half a dozen in their designated spot near the corner. Mostly men, mostly in their thirties, mostly with large black cameras or small digital recorders.



“Merit, what are you doing out tonight?”



“Merit, any comment on Samantha Ingram’s murder?”



“Did vampires kill Brett Jacobs? Samantha Ingram?”



That one stopped me in my tracks. A hand on the pommel of my sword for emphasis, I walked back to the man who’d asked it, kept my eyes flat, and decided to give them something to print.



“We are Chicagoans,” I said. “We love this city, have lived in this city for many, many years. We’re from this city. Of this city. And there is nothing we like less than those who hurt it, who tear at its heart, who kill its citizens. Vampires didn’t kill Brett Jacobs or Samantha Ingram. But we’ll do all we can to help them find justice.”



Cut and print, I thought, and turned the corner into darkness.



* * *



As I walked, I thought about the GP, the testing, and the trail that was currently going cold—the manipulation of Darius West.



Someone—still unknown and at large—had used Darius to take a sizable sum of money from the American Houses, sock it away in a European bank. That he or she was stealing money from the American Houses, sending it back to Europe, suggested a European perpetrator. Maybe the European perp didn’t want to steal from his own—the European Houses.