Wild Things

We were capable of being conscious during the day, but it wasn’t a pleasant experience. I’d been kept forcibly awake once and preferred not to repeat it.



I started to speak, found my voice trembled, and started again. “And if they assault Ethan?”



Andrew leveled dark eyes at me. “Then we take the city for everything they’re worth, and we have evidence to expose Chicago for the tragedy that’s occurring here.”



We looked at each other for a moment. He was giving me, I realized, time to consider him, to evaluate him, to trust that he would care for Ethan as I did. I wasn’t eager to give Ethan up to anyone, but I was immediately glad he had this man in his corner.



I nodded, breaking the spell and offering my trust. “How long will they hold him?”



“Under current law, until they’re satisfied he isn’t a threat. There’s an obvious self-defense argument here, especially considering Monmonth’s violence against the humans before he even got inside the gate. And we have the security video of all the above, although Kowalcyzk’s office has rejected it.” The flat tone of his voice left little doubt about how much he respected that particular decision.



“We’ll push to get him released after twenty-four hours,” he said. “And the entire firm is on call, so if the House needs anything, wants an update, they can contact us. I think that’s everything for now, unless you have other questions?”



Ethan blew out a breath, shook his head, stiffened his shoulders. “I believe that’s it.” He looked at Malik. “Lakshmi?”



“Still standing by,” Malik said. “Considering her willingness to delay presenting the GP’s demands, I’m beginning to wonder if they’ve actually made any.”



I worked studiously to avoid looking at Ethan, afraid my expression would give something away. I hadn’t actually told him that Lakshmi was the vampire to whom I’d owed a favor, or the one who supported him, but it probably wouldn’t be difficult for him to ferret that out. Especially if he could read it in my face.



“I’ve no doubt she has her own agenda,” Ethan said. “But there seems little doubt she’s also here as an envoy. If they hadn’t sent her, they’d have sent someone else.” He frowned, scratched his temple absently, glanced at Malik.



“If she gets impatient, meet with her. Better to give her a meeting of some type than have her declaring war.”



“Of course.”



“Anything else?” Ethan asked, glancing around, but no one said anything. “In that case, Malik, you have the House,” he said. As often happened, something quiet passed between them, a ceremonial transfer of power, or perhaps a quick, silent prayer for the safety of themselves, the House, and the Novitiates who dwelled within it.



Ethan buttoned his suit jacket, adjusted his pocket square. “I believe we’re ready.”



Ethan emerged from the room as he had three days ago, to nervous looks of vampires waiting outside his office. Last time he was running from the very thing he’d committed to do tonight.



He took my hand in his, and together we walked down the hallway, Cadogan’s vampires sharing their support.



“We love you, Liege,” they said as we passed.



“You’ll get through this.”



“The House will get through this, Liege.”



They patted his back, touched his arm. Two offered embraces, then quickly stepped back into line. They’d lost him a few months ago and had miraculously gotten him back. They weren’t eager to give him up again.



When we reached the foyer, the crowd thinned to give him access to the front door. He squeezed my hand, and I couldn’t hold back the tears that filled my eyes.



“You’re ready?” Andrew asked, opening the door to escort him out.



“A moment,” Ethan said.



And there in the foyer, with half the House’s vampires looking on, he put his hands on my face, and he kissed me. The kiss was soft but insistent. Ethan Sullivan did not hesitate to demonstrate to the House exactly how he felt about me.



The magic in the room transmuted, became less about fear than hope. Somehow, because they’d seen Ethan kiss me, they calmed. Perhaps because of the reminder that he had every incentive to come back healthy and whole.



After a moment he pulled back, his hand on my cheek, his thumb stroking my jaw.



Be careful, Sentinel, he silently said. The kiss had been for the House; the words were just for us. Guard Malik, the House, yourself.



You be careful, too.



I’ve every intention of it, he said with a smile. He pressed another kiss to my lips—softer, sweeter—before releasing me and walking toward the door.



There, with his hand on the frame, he turned back and faced his vampires.



“What happens outside these doors is not relevant,” he said. “It is how you respond to them, how you move forward, that reveals your character.



“You are Cadogan vampires. You are honorable, brave . . . and more stylish than most.” He got the chuckle he’d undoubtedly wanted. “To that end, and to remind you who you are, we have something to share.”



Malik walked forward with a box in hand, one that I recognized from our apartments. He opened it, pulled out a silver pendant on a chain, which gleamed like quicksilver beneath the foyer chandelier. Our previous House medals, circular disks inscribed with our positions and the House’s GP registration number, were outdated since we’d ditched the GP. These pendants, silver droplets with the House’s name and our positions etched into the back, would be the new reminders of our vampiric family.



There were sparks of excitement in the hallway.



“We’d hoped our provision of these medals would be in a slightly more formal occasion,” Ethan said. “But it is the symbol that matters, not the pomp and circumstance.”



Ethan leaned forward, and Malik clasped the first pendant around Ethan’s neck, which shined like a droplet of silver blood at the base of his throat. There was something nearly sensuous about the curve of it and the way it settled perfectly there.



Helen, the House’s den mother, appeared at Ethan’s side in her typical tweed suit, a basket of small crimson jewelry boxes on her arm. She began handing out the boxes to the Novitiates in the foyer.



“Be strong,” Ethan said, glancing across the room and meeting my gaze with a short and decisive nod. “I’ll be back soon enough.” He stepped outside and pulled the door closed, disappearing from view.



Fear tightened my chest.



Lindsey stepped beside me, put an arm around my waist. Luc took point at my other side.



“He’ll come through this,” Luc assured me. “He’s a soldier. He is trained and can endure much.”



“I don’t want him to endure anything. I don’t want his life, his well-being, to be fodder for someone else’s political career.” Keep him safe, I thought, pleading to the universe and whatever gods inhabited it. Please keep him safe.



“We know you don’t,” Luc said, patting my back tenderly and a little awkwardly. “But he is Master of this House, and he does what he must to protect it. It’s the life he chose to lead.”



“Because he can handle it,” Lindsey said.



“He definitely can. There are stories I could tell you.”



“Your stories are always disgusting,” Lindsey said, reaching around me to poke him in the shoulder. “And they usually involve bordellos. I don’t think that’s really going to help Merit.”



It actually did help Merit, and I chuckled a little in spite of myself. “Bordellos? Really?”



“Chicago had its share once upon a time,” Luc said with a shit-eating grin that earned an eye roll from Lindsey. “There was this one, Ruby Red’s. Every single girl was a redhead, natural or otherwise.”



I held up a hand. “I don’t need the specifics. I just want Ethan to be okay.”



Luc looked earnestly at me. “Merit, of all the vampires in the world, who else is stubborn and pretentious enough to stand up to a self-righteous prig like Diane Kowalcyzk?”



He had a point there.



• • •



Since there was no use in spending the hours of Ethan’s incarceration staring at the door like loyal hounds waiting for him to return, we received our House medals, clasped them on, and walked back downstairs to the basement, where the Ops Room was located. Much like the Brecks’, Cadogan’s Ops Room was where Luc and his guards held court and monitored security. It was also, appropriately enough, where we planned operations against House enemies, and it was home to the whiteboard we used to work through our investigations.



Like the ops room in the Breck house, it was all about tech. A conference room where we could plan, a large screen on the back wall for videos, monitoring, considering evidence. Computer stations lined the walls, where vampires could keep an eye on the House’s security cameras or do research.



I walked to the conference table, prepared to take a seat, but stopped, trying to make sense of what I saw on the tabletop.



A bag of kettle-style salt-and-vinegar potato chips had been slit down the middle and lay in the middle of the table. The chips had been pushed to one side, and the other bore a puddle of ketchup. I had, as I assumed did most people, a love-hate relationship with salt-and-vinegar potato chips. But the ketchup was new. And, frankly, a blasphemy.



“What’s this?” I asked, swirling a finger in the air above what I assumed was intended to be a “snack.”



“That,” Luc said, “is a bit of a miracle. Brody introduced us. Say hi, Brody.”



Brody, blond, thin, and as tall as a skyscraper, sat at one of the computer stations that lined the room. He was one of the Novitiates Luc had temporarily hired to help with House security since we were down a couple of full-time guards. He’d been a member of Cadogan House for fourteen years, a Yale graduate and former Olympic swimmer whose athletic career had been ended by a drunk driver. He’d applied for House membership in the hopes of finding a new kind of team.