Dark Debt
I emerged wrapped in a towel, a second wrapped turban-style around my wet hair, and found Ethan standing in front of a small table, flipping a stack of what looked like mail. “The House is locked down.”
I nodded, gestured. “Is that mail? Do vampires get mail?”
He looked back at me, grinned. “Why wouldn’t they?”
“I don’t get mail.”
“You aren’t Master of the House.”
I padded toward him, glanced at the envelopes he’d already discarded. Credit card applications, catalogues, charity updates, bills.
“Would you like a Cadogan House platinum card?”
“Can I have one?”
“No. You have a full library, all the clothes you could ever need, provided you don’t destroy them, and a cafeteria at your disposal. For what purpose, precisely, would you need a platinum card?”
I dodged the question. “Spoilsport,” I said, but spied the magazine peeking from the bottom of the stack. Its glossy cover featured three men and women in sharp suits, arms crossed in businesslike efficiency. TONIGHT’S HOUSE was written in a tidy font across the top of it.
“My God,” I said, picking it up and holding it against my toweled chest. “Is this a magazine for Masters?”
“It’s for House staff,” Ethan said with a chuckle, unfolding a letter. “Why?”
Why? Because it featured headlines such as “The Best Bang for your Blood Buck,” “Weeding Out Problematic Initiates,” and “Décor 101: Sprucing Up Your House.”
“I’m going to need to flip through this for both edutainment and infotational purposes.”
“He who reads Today’s House also pays today’s House’s bills.”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“I already did,” he said, refolding the letter and putting it back in the pile. “I called Nicole.”
It took me a moment to adjust to the segue; he’d clearly been eager to get that off his chest. “And how is her royal highness?”
“Acting very royal, which doesn’t really do credit to her democratic leanings.”
I put the magazine back on the pile. “Did she know about Balthasar?”
“He visited Atlanta,” Ethan said. “I don’t have the sense he was there very long, but long enough at least to meet her, to reconnect, to convince her of his identity.”
“When?”
Ethan’s eyes fairly glowed at the question. “You don’t miss the details, Sentinel. Two months ago. Before the Testing. Before she came to Chicago.”
“And she never mentioned it. You think they’re working together on something? That that’s why he’s here?”
He put his hands on his hips, frowned. “Our conversation was brief, but I didn’t have that sense. She sounded, I suppose, starstruck. In my experience, Balthasar enjoys more of a challenge than that.”
“So the next few weeks should be really quiet around here.”
Ethan chuckled, kissed my forehead. “As before, after. Let’s worry about that tomorrow, Sentinel, and get this night behind us.”
I had no objection to that.
* * *
I pulled on pajamas, dried my hair, and brushed my fangs like a good little vampire. I checked my phone, found Jonah had left a voice mail I didn’t especially want to listen to.
And being a good little vampire, I sat down on the bed, lifted the phone to my ear.
“Merit,” the message said, “it’s Jonah. We need to talk. You can’t just ignore me. We’re partners. Call me, and we’ll talk about the monitoring. I’m sorry if you took it personally, but it’s not personal. It isn’t. It’s just caution. We all want to believe the best in those who lead us. But every empire has fallen, Merit. Every empire will fall.”
The message cut off.
I liked Jonah. Respected him, and what he stood for. He was my partner, after all. A partner I’d agreed to serve with, and a man who’d helped me and the House countless times.
Frankly, I didn’t disagree that every empire would fall eventually. Hadn’t we just seen that happen to the GP? And I could admit my sensitivity to Balthasar’s glamour was concerning. Hell, it concerned me. But I’d adjusted. Jonah’s insistence that I’d be blind to what might happen, that I’d miss the signs of Ethan’s becoming utterly dictatorial—or that I’d purposely ignore them—that I’d let all vampires suffer because I loved a man, was just wrong. And coming from someone I thought I’d known, and certainly had respected, it hurt. A lot.
I tossed the phone onto the nightstand, but it spilled over the end and landed on the floor at Ethan’s feet.
He’d emerged from the bathroom in dark boxer briefs that hugged his thighs. He picked up the phone, placed it on the nightstand. “Everything all right?”
“Just an irritating message.”
“From Jonah?”
I looked up at him suspiciously.
“I saw your phone when he called you. And when you didn’t answer.” He cocked his head. “You aren’t speaking to him?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Would you like to tell me why?”
I fluffed my pillows with cathartic thumps. “Nope.”
This time, his brow lifted. “Is this something I should also be irritated about?”
I caught the thread of possessiveness in his voice, almost wished it was that simple. I didn’t think Jonah was interested in me anymore, but even if he had been, handling that would have been comparatively easy.