Chicagoland Vampires - Some Girls Bite Part 23

"I don't know the mechanics of it," Lindsey said, "if that's what you're asking. It's what Masters do. It's a connection to the vampires they turn."

We cut a path through prettily dressed men and women, finally emerging at the end of the bar table. The vamps who gathered there-women perched cattily on high stools, men standing between and around them-immediately stopped talking.

"Folks," Connor announced into the relative silence, "I bring you the Sentinel of Cadogan House." He lifted his gla.s.s toward me.

"Merit, your brethren."

They stared at me, looked me over, evaluated, and questioned. Waiting for judgment, I raised my own gla.s.s and offered a tentative smile. "Hi."

A woman with a gleaming bob of sable hair slid a glance to the blond woman beside her, then smiled at me. "Lovely to meet you, Merit. You've made quite an impression."

Her diction was perfect, her words precise, her snug black suit cut into a low runway-worthy V. She looked vaguely familiar, and it took a moment before I realized that I'd seen her before-that I actually knew her. This was Christine Dupree, daughter of Dash Dupree, one of Chicago's most famous, most notorious criminal defense attorneys. Our fathers were friends, and Christine and I had been introduced years ago at a reception for a private school my father wanted me to attend. I'd begged him to keep me in public school, and he'd ultimately given in-both to my begging and to what he'd believed had been a two-day hunger strike. (I hadn't mentioned the stash of Oreos my grandfather had helped me sneak into my bedroom.) "We've met before, Christine. You know my father."

She frowned, her delicately arched brows knitting together, but then a smile blossomed. "Oh, my G.o.d. You're that Merit!

Joshua's daughter. Of course!" She turned to the girls around her, who watched us with avid curiosity, and explained our connection.

"G.o.d, sit down!" Christine said, waving Novitiate Warner toward an empty chair at a table behind us. "Get the girl a chair, Warner."

On command, Warner pulled over a seat and offered it with a flourish. "My lady."

To sit or not to sit? I glanced back at Lindsey, who was chatting animatedly with Connor, her eyes fluttering as she laughed at something he'd said. I decided she was fine, so I took the seat and set about getting acquainted.

I chatted with Cadogan's newest vampires for hours. They explained why they'd opted to become vampires, and the reasons were surprisingly varied-illness, n.o.bility, immortality, family connections (Michael had a great-great-great-grandfather killed in a duel between warring houses who'd become a Cadogan vampire), and career opportunities. I told my own story, leaving out the sordid details of my transformation to vampire, and felt the wall between us begin to dissolve. They were especially thrilled by my challenging Ethan, the guys making me repeat the story until they'd milked it of every detail. Ethan, they informed me, was a notoriously good fighter, with an almost unbroken record of wins against other vamps. They were amused that I'd challenged him, impressed that I'd held my own.

Honestly, I was surprised by their reaction. Not that they were interested in my story, but that they listened regardless of the mess I'd inadvertently made of their Commendation. I'd expected anger or sn.o.bbery, not acceptance.

We swapped stories until the wee hours of the morning, until the guests slowly filtered from the bar, until Sean and Colin-the resident bartenders, also Cadogan vamps-cheerily evicted us. We walked out to our vehicles, and I gave Lindsey a ride back to Cadogan House. She spent the trip debating the merits of dating a baby vamp. At the end of the night, with minutes to spare before the dawn, I stepped out of the car, and laughed aloud at the giant banner that hung across Mal's and my front door.

It was a sheet of black plastic with "GUESS WHO'S OVER THE HILL!" printed in giant white letters across it. A skull and crossbones decorated one end, and the other bore cartoonish drawings of gravestones.

I snickered, guessing the culprit. The expressions of the front door guards were as blank as I'd ever seen them. I guess they weren't impressed by the joke. I stepped past them, unlocked the door, entered the house and locked up again. Inside the quiet living room, on the table next to the front door, was a note with my name on it.

Merit, Congratulations on your Vampire Rush. Hope you had a great time and told Darth Sullivan to kiss off. Also hope you like the banner. It wasn't exactly what I wanted, but I liked the gravestones. Hard to find a perfecter gift for the newly undead. XOXO.

M.

In a scratchy scrawl beneath Mallory's handwriting lay another message: The banner was her idea.

CB.

Smiling, I tucked the note into my pocket, fingered the pendant at my neck, and just as the sun began to push above the horizon, headed upstairs to bed.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

ADVICE FOR LITIGATORS AND VAMPIRES:.

NEVER ASK A QUESTION TO WHICH YOU DON'T.

ALREADY KNOW THE ANSWER.

"Get your a.s.s out of bed."

Two nights in a row? I groaned and pulled a pillow over my head. "I'm trying to sleep." The pillow was yanked back, and a cell phone was pressed against my ear in time to hear someone yell, "Get your a.s.s out of bed, Sentinel, and get to the d.a.m.n House! I don't know what kind of cushy job you expected, but around here, we earn our pay.

You've got fifteen minutes."

Suddenly awake, and realizing who was on the phone, I grabbed the cell from Mallory's hand and fumbled through pillows and blankets until I was upright. "Luc? I can't make it across town in fifteen minutes."

There was a gravelly chuckle on the other end of the phone. "Then learn to fly, Tinkerbell, and get that pretty a.s.s to the House."

The call ended with an audible click, and I dropped it onto the bed and jumped to the floor.

"Hurry much?"

Cursing like a sailor on leave, I rifled through my closet. "I'm late," I vented. "The House vamps already think I'm a freak. And now I'm the prissy, princessy freak who can't show up to work on time. I didn't know he wanted me in at the crack of dusk."

Her voice almost irritatingly calm, Mal offered, "Check the door, hon."

"I don't have time for riddles, Mal. I'm in a hurry." I flipped through a long-sleeve T-s.h.i.+rt, then another, then another, and found nothing that Cadogan vamps would find even remotely acceptable.

"The door, Merit."

With a groan, I pushed back from the closet and glanced at the door. Hanging over my bedroom door was a short-sleeved black top and a pair of cuffed flat-front gray dress trousers. A pair of black high-heeled Mary Jane shoes sat in front of it. As an ensemble, it was simple, cla.s.sy, and with the stiletto-heeled shoes, a little fierce. I glanced back at her. "What's this?"

"A first-day-of-work present."

My eyes filled with tears, and I wiped at them with the sleeves of the long-sleeved tee I'd slept in. "You take good care of me."

She sighed and moved closer, then pulled me into a hug. "You're on day eight of Merit's Brain Vacation. You've got until day ten.

I expect you to have adjusted by then." She brushed the hair from my face, then tweaked a lock of it. "I miss brainiac Merit."

I smiled sheepishly. "I miss her, too."

She nodded. "Good. I'm going to run out and grab you a black suit. Since you've got a birthday coming up, I'm totally claiming that as your gift."

Birthday number twenty-eight was next week. And while I appreciated the thought, I wasn't crazy about the would-be present.

"Not to be picky, Mal, but could I maybe get a birthday present that's not Ethan Sullivan-related?"

"Is there anything in your life right now that's not Ethan Sullivan-related?"

Hmm. She had a point.

"Now enough procrastinating! Go get in the shower, get these pretty clothes on, and go do that Sentinel thing."

I saluted her and followed the order.

It took twenty minutes to get dressed and in some semblance of order-to pull back my hair into a high ponytail, to brush out my bangs, to slide into the new clothes and fasten the tiny buckles on my three-inch-heeled Mary Janes, to grab my black messenger bag, to clip on my beeper-and another handful to get to Cadogan House. I threw the car into park as soon as I was near the gate and trotted in my heels-and quite a sight that was, I'm sure-down the sidewalk.

The House was quiet and empty when I finally bobbed up the front stairs and entered the foyer. I guessed the vamps were up and about, already a.s.suming their positions and dedicating themselves to the Cadogan cause. I peeked into the front parlor, saw no one, and walked through to the second. Still no vampires.

"Looking for someone?"

Of all the luck. Ordering my face into what I hoped was a kind of meek chagrin, I spun to face Ethan. Not surprisingly, he was in black-a dark suit layered over a white s.h.i.+rt, no tie. He stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, his hair pulled back at the nape of his neck.

"I'm late," was my confession.

His brows lifted, a corner of his mouth almost, but not quite, tipped up in amus.e.m.e.nt. "On your first day? I'm shocked. I'd imagined you'd prove to be our most reliable, dependable employee."

I walked around him, peeked through a doorway that led from the parlor. It led to another hallway, also empty. "And I bet you became Master of Cadogan House because of your spectacular wit." I stopped and faced him, then put hands on my hips. "Where would I find Luc?"

"Please?"

"Please what?"

Ethan rolled his eyes. "That was your cue to show some respect to your employer."

"And you're suggesting that's you?"

In response, he lifted a single brow higher.

"The thing is," I pointed out, "since I've got the responsibility of ensuring the safety of the House, I've got some authority over you, too."

Ethan uncrossed his arms and put his hands on his hips. The posture was vaguely threatening, his tone only slightly less so. "Only if I was to act in a way that threatens the House. And I won't."

"But that's my determination to make, isn't it?"

He just stared at me. "Are you always this obstreperous?"

"I'm not obstreperous. Stubborn, arguably. And don't start in that I was causing trouble. I was only asking a question."

"You start causing trouble the minute you awaken. Case in point-you're late."

"And that brings us back full circle. Now where's Luc?" He lifted both brows, and I sighed. "G.o.d, you call me stubborn. Please, Sullivan, where's Luc?"

There was a pause as he slipped his hands into his pockets but then, finally, gave an answer that didn't involve a critique of my character. "Operations room. Down the stairs to the right. It's the first door on the left, before you get to the sparring room. If you suddenly discover you're fang deep in vampires, all intent on teaching you the manners you so obviously lack, you've gone too far."

I lightly grasped the edges of my s.h.i.+rt and dropped into a neat curtsy, batting my eyes coquettishly. "Thank you, Liege," I said, Gratefully Condescending.

"You're still not in Cadogan attire, you know."

I frowned, awash in the disheartening realization that I'd tried again, and failed, at playing Cadogan vampire. Was I ever going to be able to be good enough for Ethan? I doubted it, but faked a smile and cheekily offered, "You should have seen what I was going to wear."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Get to work, Sentinel, but find me before you leave. I want to touch base about the murder investigations."

I nodded. Hard to be sarcastic when serial murder was the topic. "Sure."

Ethan gave me a final silent perusal, then turned and walked out of the room. I kept my eyes on the empty doorway even when he'd gone, still expecting him to pop back inside and add a final snarky comment. But silence filled the House, Ethan apparently content not to do further battle right now. Relieved, I took the stairs and veered to the right. The door he'd indicated was closed. I knocked, heard someone invite me in, opened the door and walked inside.

It was like stepping onto a movie set. The room was as handsomely decorated as the upper floors of Cadogan House, pale colors and tasteful furniture, but it was smeared with technology-screens, computers, printers. The ends of the rectangular room were anch.o.r.ed by long banks of computers and expensive-looking equipment, with security monitors mounted above. Black-and-white images of the Cadogan grounds flickered on the screens. An oval conference table sat in the middle of the room, a handful of vampires-including Luc and Lindsey-around it. And on the long wall behind the conference table was a seven-foot-wide display screen, projecting a series of pictures of a brunette.

Of me.

I stared, lips parted, at a picture of me dancing across a stage in a pale pink leotard, a whispery skirt around my thighs, hands arced above my head. There was a clicking sound, and the image changed. I was in college, wearing an NYU T-s.h.i.+rt. Click. I was at a library table, tucking a lock of hair behind an ear as I pored over a book. The picture was undisturbed by vampire glam-I sat cross-legged in jeans in a comfy chair, my hair pulled back in a messy knot, retro-punk gla.s.ses perched on my nose, Chuck Taylors on my feet.

I c.o.c.ked my head to the side, staring at the text on the screen. "Canterbury Tales," I announced to the room. All heads turned to look at me as I stood, not a little unsteadily, in the doorway. "I was preparing for a cla.s.s, in case you were curious."

Luc, who sat at the head of the table, tapped a screen that was inlaid into the tabletop, and the images disappeared, replaced by a Cadogan House logo. He still looked cowboyish today-tousled blond hair ruffling the collar of a faded, long-sleeved denim s.h.i.+rt, jeans, and boots, visible because he crossed his ankles on the table in front of him. He was the only vamp in the room in jeans.

Everyone else was in the requisite Cadogan black, fitted tops and s.h.i.+rts that, presumably, made it easier for the guards to do their jobs than the usual stiff suits.

"Doing some research?" I asked.

"You'd be amazed what you can find on the Interwebs in a week," Luc said, "and security always checks out security." He pointed me toward a seat at the table next to Lindsey, and across from a female vamp I didn't know-a tall, coltish redhead, who'd maybe topped out at twenty-two when she was turned. She grinned at me.

"Sit your a.s.s down," Luc said. "It took you long enough to get here. You really need to consider moving into the House."

I smiled grimly at the other guards, none of whom I recognized beyond Lindsey, and took the proffered seat. "I can't imagine any way that'd be a good idea," I said, trying for a light tone. "I'd get p.i.s.sed at Ethan and stake him in his sleep. No one wants that."

"Least of all Ethan," Lindsey pointed out, using a stick of what looked like beef jerky to gesture. "That's very magnanimous, Merit."

I smiled at her. "Thanks."

Luc rolled his eyes. "Before we were interrupted"-he gave me a heavy glance that made clear whom he was holding responsible for the disturbance-"I was explaining to your crew that I'm going to be testing you on the C-41 protocol, and that if you don't yet understand the four subsets of the C-41 protocol, you'll find your a.s.s in Ethan's office explaining to him why you spent the evening partying with the baby vamps when you should have been preparing to ensure the security of your House." Luc raised his gaze to mine. "I a.s.sume you looked through the Web site last night and can take us through the C-41 subsets?"

I swallowed down a keen sense of panic. It was like living the nightmare-the one where you're unprepared for an exam and you show up to the test completely naked? Here I was, nicely dressed, but still about to be humiliated in front of the squad of Cadogan guards. I might as well have skipped the wardrobe upgrade.

I opened my mouth to spit out some kind of response-an apology, a couple of lame sentences about the importance of House security in the days of dueling alliances (and Ethan said I never listened!)-when Luc was. .h.i.t, square in the face, with a flying piece of jerky.