House Rules

MADNESS



Ethan and I walked side by side down the sidewalk. His body language was clear - we were working together. Nothing more, nothing less, at least until we had a good talk.



But now was not the time for that talk.



We walked inside Navarre House and found the front desk empty. The three lovely brunettes who usually greeted visitors to the House were gone.



We walked into the House proper, and the mood was dark - grief stricken and silent. Every vampire House had a style. Grey House was an urban loft. Cadogan House had a European flair. Navarre House was sleek and modern. Although the exterior of the building looked more like a princess's castle than a vampire enclave, the interior looked like an art gallery. The walls and floor were gleaming marble, with occasional pops of art and furniture.



The first floor was full of vampires, but they'd clustered behind an invisible line, leaving a gap between themselves and the Masters, Morgan Greer and Scott Grey. Both were dark haired. Scott looked like a former college athlete - broad shoulders, small waist, and a dark soul patch below his lips. Morgan looked like a male model. His dark, wavy hair now reached his shoulders, but across his handsome face - strong cheekbones, cleft chin, dark blue eyes - was a mask of grief.



We hadn't exactly had the best working relationship, but this wasn't the time to dwell on our petty disagreements. He was suffering, and we'd do what we could to help. Besides, the last time I'd talked to Morgan, he'd saved my life. Being here was really the least we could do.



Jonah stood slightly apart from them. He and Scott both wore blue-and-yellow Grey House jerseys, which Scott had selected, in lieu of medals, to identify his House's vampires. A blond man I didn't know, but assumed was the Navarre House guard captain, stood with the group.



Ethan nodded, barely sparing Jonah a glance. "Our condolences for your loss."



Jonah looked at me curiously, and I found I couldn't make eye contact. My stomach felt suddenly raw. I was fighting with my boyfriend about my new partner - and my new partner was standing in front of us.



"What happened?" Ethan asked.



Morgan moved to the side, revealing the covered bodies of their fallen colleagues beside the stairs, a pool of blood beside them. They'd placed a blanket atop the bodies, giving them decency the killer hadn't bothered to show.



"Two of my vampires have been murdered," Morgan said. "The first is Katya. She's the sister of my Second."



My lips parted. Morgan's Second was a woman named Nadia, who was beautiful in an effortless, European way. I didn't know Katya, but I'd met Nadia briefly before.



"I'm so sorry," I said.



Morgan nodded. "The second is Zoey, a member of our administrative staff. They were friends."



"What happened?" Ethan asked.



"We found them at dusk. Will, our guard captain, found them." Morgan gestured toward the curly-haired blond beside him.



"May we?" Ethan asked, motioning toward the bodies.



Will nodded grimly, then took a knee and drew back the blanket. I didn't recognize the vampires, but then, I hadn't had much interaction with Navarre House other than Morgan and, once upon a time, Celina.



Katya was curvier than Nadia, with long, dark hair and angelic features. She wore what looked like sleepwear - a short satin nightgown of pale pink, and fuzzy white slippers. Zoey also wore pajamas - a tank and cotton pants. Her skin was dark and her hair was darker, cropped close to her head in tight curls.



Like he'd done with Oliver and Eve, the killer had separated the girls' heads from their bodies with the same long cut, and they were holding hands, their fingers stained with blood.



"Thank you," Ethan said, and Will covered them again. But covering the women didn't prevent the visage of their deaths from searing into my mind. Perhaps I was becoming desensitized, as it was less the blood and violence that affected me than the slippers on Katya's feet. They were soft and young and somehow pitiable, and made their deaths that much more offensive.



"Had they behaved unusually last night? Or perhaps disappeared for any time?" Ethan asked Will.



"They were hanging out together," Will said. "They spent the evening with friends at Red" - that was the official Navarre House bar - "and then returned here. They shared a room. No one noticed anything amiss until they were found this morning."



"What about the room?" I quietly asked, and eyes turned to me. "I mean, they're in pajamas. Either they were taken from the room, or they left it to come out here for some reason."



Will nodded just a bit, as if appreciating the logic. "Their beds had been slept in, and the door was slightly ajar. The House kitchen is on this floor. We think they might have come downstairs for something to eat or drink."



"And the killer was waiting," Ethan finished.



Will nodded.



"Do you know how long they'd been dead when you found them?" Ethan asked.



Will cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. "The bodies were still warm. So not long."



"What about security cameras?" I asked.



"We have closed circuit, but it's not recorded," Morgan said, voice flat with grief. "And we don't have full-time external security staff. We don't need it," he added. But he didn't have to justify his decisions to me. Besides, it wasn't like our external security was working out so well right now.



"So it seems likely this happened just after dusk," Ethan said. "What type of security do you have on the doors? Who could get in?"



"Our security is biometric," Will said. "The system was on, and we've confirmed that it's functioning properly and has been. No breaches were registered."



"Can you track individual vampires?" Ethan asked.



"No. Our system doesn't record information; it operates like a door lock. If you match the data stored in the receiver, the door unlocks."



"That was Celina's preference," Morgan said. "She didn't want the vampires to feel they were living in a police state."



Or, I silently thought, she didn't want anyone tracking the comings and goings of her lovers and secret allies.



"What does the security system actually scan?" I asked. "Fingerprints? Retinal scan?"



"It's keyed for Navarre vampires," Morgan said.



His tone was matter-of-fact, but his implication was significant. Huge, actually. Because we'd found aspen slivers on the ground at the apartment building, we assumed McKetrick had been the killer. But McKetrick was human, as his daylight press conference with the mayor amply demonstrated. He wasn't a vampire, and certainly not a Navarre vampire.



Four vampires were dead, and the killer was a vampire . . . which meant we were looking at a vampire serial killer.



Ethan and I exchanged a worried glance. Thank God, even when he was angry, we could work together. That endeared him to me as much as anything else had.



"No one from Navarre House would do this," Morgan said, as if guessing our thoughts.



"Respectfully," Scott said, "if your security's working, only a Navarre vampire could have done this."



Morgan opened his mouth to respond, but he was interrupted by a commotion near the door.



Nadia, Morgan's Second and Katya's sister, ran into the room. Her cheeks were pink from cold, and she wore jeans, boots, and a long baggy sweater beneath the coat she hadn't taken time to button.



"Katya!" she screamed, her voice choked with tears, running toward her sister's body. But Morgan reached out and grabbed her before she reached Katya, wrapping his arms tightly around her and whispering softly in what I thought was Russian.



Since when did Morgan speak Russian?



Nadia screamed to be loosed. "She is my sister! Let me go!"



Morgan maintained his hold, and as her rage transmuted into grief, she turned her body into Morgan as he kissed her temple, trying to comfort her through her gut-wrenching sobs.



It seemed Morgan and his Second were closer than I would have guessed.



"I'm going to take her upstairs," Morgan said, and we nodded as he escorted Nadia toward the staircase.



Will watched them leave, then looked back at us, desperation in his face. "Do you know who did this? Are you close to catching whoever murdered those two Rogues?"



I looked at Ethan, who nodded. "This is similar to Oliver's and Eve's deaths. The same method of death, and the same positioning of the bodies. Oliver and Eve were holding hands, too."



"But it's not in a hidden location this time," Jonah said, and I nodded.



"We'd thought McKetrick, the new Ombudsman, might be involved. But he's human, not a vampire. And if only Navarre vampires can get into the House . . ."



"Then you're out of luck," Scott said.



I didn't appreciate his tone or his conclusion, especially since he hadn't exactly participated in the investigation or offered any assistance. Thank God his guard captain was more willing to help.



"We have the information we have," Ethan said. "Nothing more."



Scott looked at him. "You'll look into this?"



Ethan looked at him silently for a moment. "Will, would you excuse us, please?"



Will nodded and walked away, leaving me, Ethan, Scott, and Jonah. Ethan took a step closer into the group, ensuring his words would stay private.



"Why not encourage Morgan to call the CPD?" Ethan asked.



Scott looked surprised. "Because they're part of the same city administration that hired McKetrick. Do you actually think we'd get a fair shake? Or that they wouldn't simply call this inter-House nonsense and attempt to oppress us even more? Or publicize the fact that it was probably a vampire who did this?"



I knew for a fact that there were perfectly honorable members of the CPD, my grandfather among them, but Scott had a point. If Morgan was right, and only Navarre vampires could enter and leave the House, that meant a Navarre vampire was the killer. Which was almost unfortunate, because we had no other evidence suggesting a Navarre vampire was involved.



"We will do what we can to bring the killer to justice," Ethan said. "But we are not here to dirty our hands so that yours and Morgan's can stay clean. We have reaped the punishment of that particular course of action for long enough. You owe favors to our House, and we will collect."



There was no denying the anger in Scott's expression; I doubted he was challenged by other vampires very often. But Ethan wasn't a Novitiate of Scott's House. He'd been a vampire - and a Master - longer than Scott had been alive.



I'd long thought that Ethan's premature death had changed him. Given him new bravado, perhaps. This was pretty good evidence that I was right. And since Ethan was one hundred percent correct, it was an attitude I liked. Cadogan didn't exist to serve Grey or Navarre, and while there was no question we wanted to find the perpetrator, I was glad they were on notice that their free rides were over.



There was something else in Scott's expression - a begrudging respect. Scott had seemed to me to be a forthright, balls-to-the-wall type of guy. Even though he didn't like hearing harsh truths, maybe part of him appreciated Ethan's frankness.



"Agreed," Scott said.



"In that case," Ethan said, "we'll leave the House to make its arrangements. We'll advise Morgan, and you, if we have any information."



Scott nodded, and the deal was done.



Ethan didn't spare him or Jonah another look, but headed back to the door. At least he'd managed to restrain himself from confronting Jonah about my RG membership here and now. Thank God for small miracles.



We left Navarre House through the cloud of grief and anger.



Unfortunately, those emotions followed us back to the House. Ethan wasn't talking, and I was becoming more upset. My RG membership was entirely justifiable, and it was supposed to be secret. Telling Ethan would have defeated the point of my being a member of a clandestine organization.



Not that I couldn't sympathize. I'd agonized about joining the RG for exactly the reasons he was angry now: because it would be perceived as slap against Ethan and the House. It wasn't; I knew that now better than ever. But that didn't ease the stone of guilt that settled heavily in my stomach.



When we got out of the car, Ethan waited for me before reentering through the Cadogan gate, but still didn't offer a single word.



"You'll tell Luc?" he asked, when we stepped into the House foyer.



I nodded. "Sure."



With a nod, he disappeared directly into his office without another word.



So much for our detente. I suppose it applied only to murder investigations, and not to the destruction of our House by contractual shenanigans.



My stomach clenched at the thought, but first problems first. I hadn't had a chance at Grey House to tell Jonah what had happened, and he needed to know, so I stepped outside onto the portico, dialed him up, and got right to the heart of it.



"Hello?"



"Ethan knows about the RG."



There was silence on the other end, and I could feel the disappointment radiating through the phone.



"I had to tell him," I said. "Lacey Sheridan followed me to our meet."



"She followed you? Why would she follow you?"



"Because she's in love with Ethan and is looking for an excuse to knock me out of the picture."



"Did she find one?"



"I don't know," I quietly said. "He's angry. The RG is kind of an insult to Masters, and he's taking it personally."



"That explains why he kept giving me nasty looks at Navarre House."



"Yeah," I said.



"Fuck, Merit. I do not want to add to an already shitty night."



"I know. I didn't plan on it, either. I'm not quitting," I added. "I made a commitment to you and the RG, and I know the RG is on the right side of things."



"What about Ethan?" he asked. It was hardly a question, but I knew exactly what he was asking: Will Ethan rat us out?



"He won't tell anyone," I said. "There's no one for him to tell anyway; it's not like he's going to call Darius up. I've told him I'm not quitting. I think he'll calm down - you know how strategic he is - but I have to wait him out."



My stomach clenched as I considered the worst-case scenario - that Ethan wouldn't get over my commitment, and that would be the end of us.



But I rejected that idea. Ethan loved me, and he wasn't going to leave because he disagreed with something I'd done, especially when that something was principled and intended to help the House.



Unfortunately, Ethan wasn't the only person involved in this drama. Lacey had inserted herself into it, too. God willing, he wasn't angry enough to fall into something with her that he'd regret later.



"What about Lacey?"



"She thinks we're having an affair. She and Ethan had a little chat this morning. I expect he explained away whatever she thinks she saw."



"I'll have to talk to Noah," Jonah said. "Theoretically, your cover's been blown. Since Ethan's no longer in the GP, it may not matter much to him. But we'll have to assess the risk."



My stomach fell. It hadn't occurred to me that they'd consider kicking me out of the RG because of what Lacey had seen, or what I'd confessed to Ethan.



This night was just getting better and better.



"Merit, hold on a minute, okay?"



Before I could answer, the phone clicked and he was gone. He must have been taking another call. Fifteen or twenty seconds passed before he came back again.



"I might have a solution to your House's problem."



Hope blossomed. "What's that?"



"The RG connection who told us about the contract bit? She says there's quite a bit of unhappiness with the way Darius is handling things. The situation is delicate - very delicate - but she's working it."



"She's working it? How?"



"We have someone inside the GP."



My eyes must have been as wide as saucers. "You . . . what?"



"A sympathetic member," he said, "but that's all I can give you right now. Let me talk it out and I'll see what else I can get you. I'll get back in touch as soon as I can."



"Okay," I said. "And I'm sorry. For everything."



"Things happen," he said. "They happen, and we pick ourselves up, and we get back out there."



He was definitely right about that.



The call done, I walked back into the House. Part of me wanted to run into Ethan's office and beg for forgiveness. But he hadn't invited me to his office, and I didn't expect I'd be welcome. I imagine he had enough on his mind without his girlfriend's presumptive betrayal staring him in the face.



I decided to visit the Ops Room, but stopped at the stairs when someone called my name.



"Merit."



I glanced over. Michael Donovan stood in the hallway near Ethan's office. He frowned when he saw me. "Are you all right? You look pale. Well, paler than usual."



"It's been a long night. I suppose you're brainstorming?"



He held up a bottle of Blood4You. "Yeah. We're looking at the contracts, trying to figure out a way to turn them around on Darius."



I nodded. "I need to get downstairs. Good luck with that."



"Good luck with your business," he said, offering a wave before he disappeared into Ethan's office again.



When I made it to the basement, I didn't find the mood in the Ops Room to be much better than mine was.



Juliet and Luc sat at the conference table together, both reviewing the House's evacuation procedures. Unfortunately, that they were reviewing evac procedures didn't say much for our chances when Darius showed up again with his hired thugs.



Lindsey sat at one of the computer monitors, and she looked around in concern when I walked through the door. It wasn't hard to imagine that my mood was throwing off unpleasant magic.



"How bad was it?" Luc asked.



"As bad as you can imagine the deaths of two vampires being." I walked over to the whiteboard and added Katya's and Zoey's names, whispering a silent apology that I hadn't been able to do more to stop the killer before his spree encompassed them.



"We've got double the number of murders, and neither Navarre nor Grey is in much of a position to help."



"Not that they would," Luc muttered, and I smiled a little.



"You will, however, be pleased to learn that Ethan gave Scott the business for letting us do the dirty work."



Luc sat back in his chair, a smug expression on his face. "Good. He had it coming. Tell me what you know about the rest of it."



I nodded. "I'll call Jeff, and we can go through the entire thing together," I said, dialing his number on the conference phone.



"Milady," he answered.



"It's Merit and the Ops Room gang."



"You never have good news when you call me from the Ops Room."



"Sad, but true," I agreed, sitting cross-legged in the chair. If I was going to be miserable, I might as well be comfortable.



"Two Navarre vampires have been killed," I said. "Nadia's sister, Katya, and her friend Zoey. They were found this evening on the first floor of Navarre House. Both were decapitated, and they were found holding hands."



The room and phone were silent for a moment. Luc crossed himself, as if honoring the vampires' memory.



"That sounds like our man," Jeff said.



"It does," I agreed. "Same method, down to the placement of their bodies."



"And he only kills in pairs?" Luc wondered.



"So far as we know," I said.



"Different affiliations, though," Lindsey said, turning around from her computer station. "Two Rogues first, then two Navarre vampires."



"But random picks of vampires from each group," I said. "I mean, nothing we know suggests he targeted these particular vampires."



"Instead, he was targeting the groups," Juliet said.



I shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know if it matters, but there aren't any vampire registration issues with the Navarre House murder. Katya and Zoey were home in pajamas when they were killed. That doesn't fit the profile of a vampire who's pissed at Oliver and Eve because they were registering. Oh, and Navarre vamps are the only ones who can get into the House after hours. They've got biometric security."



"Biometric?" Jeff asked. "That's fancy. For a House anyway."



"I take it you don't know much about how they do it?" Luc asked.



"I don't. Normally biometric means a fingerprint or retina scan, but in this case I'm not sure. Theoretically, though, Merit's got it right: Biometric scanning would be a pretty solid method of security. I mean, it's easier to steal or swap a pass card or metal key than an eyeball, you know?"



"So, only a Navarre vampire could have murdered these two," Luc said.



"That's how it's supposed to work," Jeff said. "But I'll talk to Navarre."



Luc nodded. "Thanks. However they manage it, if it had to be a Navarre vamp, that takes McKetrick out of the equation."



"For the killing," I said. "But we still found aspen at the first murder scene."



Luc frowned. "Any aspen at the Navarre scene?"



"Not that I saw. And it probably would have been obvious on the marble floors. The aspen had to be at that first scene for a reason. Maybe our killer isn't McKetrick, but has ties to him or something. Like they're buddies?"



"That seems unlikely if the killer's a Navarre vampire," Luc said. "McKetrick doesn't like vampires."



"And nobody likes Navarre vampires," Lindsey muttered. Giving up the facade of working at her computer station, she pulled out a chair and joined us at the table. "Maybe the killer, the vampire, doesn't like McKetrick. Maybe he got his hands on a weapon, and he enjoys implicating McKetrick as much as McKetrick enjoys implicating us."



I nodded. That sounded entirely logical. Unfortunately, we had no evidence to support it.



"While we're talking," Jeff said, "I'm doing some poking around. I've got more evidence it's not McKetrick - at least, not him personally."



"That was fast," Luc said.



"Ya. I popped onto his official city Web site for 'S's and 'G's, and he's got an alibi. According to the numerous photos they've thrown onto the Web with no apparent artistic sensibility, he's been on a fund-raising junket with Mayor Kowalcyzk."



"Any chance the pics aren't legit?" Luc asked.



"Let me check," Jeff said. "I can run them through a program that flags image manipulation. Beep beep boop boop."



Luc, Juliet, Lindsey, and I looked around at one another.



I squinted at the phone. "I'm sorry, Jeff, did you just say 'beep beep boop boop'?"



"Computer sound effects," he said, as if I'd asked him to explain the most obvious conclusion in the world.



"All right. Here we go. So, I've only checked one, but let's say it's obvious Diane's had a bit of digital work done. Unfortunately, the image of McKetrick is legit. It wasn't copied or pasted into the shot, which means he was really there with her. Sorry about that."



"Wait," Lindsey said, "what kind of digital work done?" She loved celebrity gossip, and had once graced the cover of a Chicago tabloid because of her fierce vampire style. Luc had not been amused.



"Focus," Luc said. "And never apologize for facts. We had questions about McKetrick's involvement, but you've helped us tie off that loose end. He's alibied for those murders, so we won't waste time on that angle. It is a bummer, though. I would have enjoyed pinning some good old-fashioned felonious behavior on him."



If Luc hadn't been a centuries-old vampire, I'd have called his expression a pout.



"It does leave us without a suspect," Juliet said.



"That it does," I agreed ruefully.



"What do we know?" Luc asked, scanning the whiteboard.



"Do we have any Navarre vamps even on the radar?" Lindsey asked, scanning the whiteboard.



"Not at the moment," I said. "But we're looking for one. Someone who kills in pairs, uses the same method of murder, and poses the bodies the same way. He's willing to cross the House/Rogue divide, as he's moved from killing Rogue vampires to killing Housed vampires."



"Or he's escalated from Rogues to the House," Jeff suggested, "depending on his attitude."



Luc nodded, pleased at the conclusion. "Good thought. Profile?"



I frowned, thinking it through. If I were this guy, and I'd done these things, who would I be?



"He's smart," I said. "Clever, and he likes to show off. He went from killing in an abandoned building to killing in Navarre House, with the bodies left in clear view of the House. He's methodical. He likes to set a scene."



Luc tapped his fingertips on the table rhythmically. "It's a good profile, except we have no concrete evidence to go with it."



He slapped a hand on the table. "And that's our job, people. Find me some evidence, before he decides to put Cadogan House back on his radar. I'll talk to Will at Navarre House. I don't think we'll be able to finagle interviews with the Navarre vampires, not given the mood over there, but it's worth a call. And maybe he's got some thoughts about any off-balance Novitiates who fit our profile. Mr. Christopher, I think we're done with you for now. Thanks for your help."



"Anytime," Jeff said, and the line went dead.



I turned back to the board, then walked over and erased McKetrick's name from our list of suspects. Where that left us I had no idea, but I had a very bad feeling more bodies were going to pile up before we got any closer.



* * *



When I'd stared at the board for an hour more, drawing and erasing straight and dotted lines between the facts that seemed to connect together, Luc suggested I take a break and say hello to Ethan. He was confident we needed to talk something out, and thought the middle of a crisis was a good time to do it.



"And, speaking of which," Luc said, "do you want to tell us what the hell went on with you and our beloved Master this evening?"



The entire Ops Room turned around to look at me. My chest burned hot. "I don't know what you're talking about."



Luc watched me for a moment, then shook his head. "Sentinel, that dog won't hunt."



"I don't know what that means. Is that cowboy wisdom, or a movie quote?"



Luc was a movie lover, and a constant movie quoter. But his eyes narrowed in disdain. "It's movie wisdom. And the next movie night, you're going to sit your butt down and watch Roadhouse like a good little vampire, or I'm giving you a nice little demerit for your file." He waved a hand in the air, dismissing the conversation. "But the sentiment stands. Go talk to him."



"We're in the middle of a fight."



Lindsey humphed. "All due respect, Mer, the cloud of emotional doom that is hovering over this House made that pretty obvious."



I winced. "Cloud of emotional doom?"



"You and Ethan have major chemistry, but you also have major magical spillover. When you're happy - when you're doing it regular, and don't give me that look - there's a nice, happy vibe in the House. When you're pissed off, the thundercloud of doom lurks above us and rains its funk down upon us all."



"I think you're overstating this a smidge."



She shook her head, convinced. "You say that because you can't feel it; you're already knee-deep in angst. Problem is, you're kicking it our way, too." She faux shuddered. "It's like a teenager's emo birthday party in here."



"And you don't think the GP ceremony and the chance we'll lose the House have anything to do with that?"



"Only thirty-five or forty percent," Luc said. "The rest of it's all you."



It wasn't exactly a vote of confidence that they thought I was sixty percent responsible for the House's bad mojo. But . . . "Be that as it may, they've created a war room up there, and they're focused on not losing the House. I'd prefer not to bother him until that problem's been solved."



Luc sighed. "Fine. Let him cool off, if you think that's best. We'll deal with the murder and let the upstairs staff deal with the House. Upstairs staff," he said with a chuckle, then looked at me curiously. "Your parents have money, don't they, Sentinel? Did y'all have upstairs and downstairs staff growing up?"



My father owned Merit Properties, one of Chicago's largest real estate development companies. We had a miserable relationship, mostly because he always wished that I was a different kind of daughter.



And also because he'd bribed Ethan to make me a vampire.



Ethan had declined, but the tactic - typical of my father's dictatorial style - hadn't done our relationship any favors.



I wasn't generally thrilled when people brought up my parents, but something happened when Luc spoke those words. A thought flashed, and I stared at Luc for a moment.



Luc grimaced. "Oh, sorry, Sentinel. I know they aren't an easy subject."



I shook my head. "I'm not mad," I said, then looked at the whiteboard. "I'm just thinking about property."



We'd identified the spots where Oliver and Eve were last spotted - the registration office - and where they'd been found - the warehouse. But we hadn't dug much deeper.



"The property where Oliver and Eve were found," I said, circling it on the whiteboard. "The warehouse. Jeff wasn't able to figure out who owned it."



"So?"



I recapped the marker and tapped it against the board. "Oliver and Eve were found in a secret room. James, one of Noah's friends, only suspected the room existed because he scented the blood. But how would the killer know about the room? Maybe the killer has some connection to the property."



"It seems unlikely the owner would use his own property to dump a body when it could be traced back to him."



"True," I said. "But the killer doesn't have to be an investor. He could be a former warehouse employee turned vampire."



"Turned Navarre vampire," Luc said.



"Even better. The list of people associated with that warehouse who are also Navarre vamps can't be long."



"Okay," Luc said. "But Jeff said the property records were a dead end."



"He did, but the records have to exist somewhere, even if they're somewhere Jeff can't get to them. On the other hand, I would bet my father can get anything he wants. I could talk to him."



The room went quiet for a moment as the group considered the gravity of that offer.



Lindsey grimaced. "Are you sure you want to do that?"



"I am absolutely certain I don't want to do it, but I've got to do something. I don't want to just sit around wondering if we're going to lose the House tomorrow . . . or waiting for another murder."



"You know, Sentinel," Luc said, "you've turned out better than I thought you would."



Proving she was my friend, Lindsey gave him a punch in the arm that had him roaring in complaint.