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Shifters are an independent bunch. I don’t mean that we live a solitary existence—quite the opposite. We are organized into Packs, after all. But we tend to live in the margins of human society. Vamps tend to think of us as a tent and Jeep crew, a hog and Harley crew, a rock ’n’ roll and straight Jack Daniel’s crew.”
“He’s not the only one who appreciates my love of food. I mean, you might consider how well I’ve trained you.” He arched a dubious eyebrow, and his voice could hardly have been more sarcastic. “Excuse me?” Luc chuckled from his chair, chin on his hand, as he watched us with obvious amusement. “Oh, I got this one, Sentinel. Liege, respectfully, you had this meeting catered.”
“I’m not your father, you know.” It took me a moment to find words. “Excuse me?” “I’m capable of giving you a compliment and being completely sincere about it.”
And thank god he ain’t her father.
there we were, two vampires, rolling around on the floor like children.
“Chocolate mousse cakes,” Margot corrected. “A chocolate genoise bottom, topped by layers of milk chocolate mousse and ganache.
That sounds so fucking good
“I am beginning to remember—” He stopped, shook his head, then started again. “I am beginning to remember what it means to need things. Laughter. Companionship. Love.” He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine. “And I need you, Merit.”
“You undo me, Merit. Wholly and completely. You don’t take me at my word. You challenge me at every opportunity. And that means when I’m with you, I am less than the head of this House . . . and I am more than the head of this House. I am a man.” He stroked my cheeks with his thumbs. “In my very, very long life, I need you more than I have ever needed anything.”
I paused, not sure if I was willing to take that step, to offer up my first name, to give him that right.
But like I don’t even remember what her first name was?
“Please, Merit?” My eyes still closed, I smiled a grin of feminine pleasure. I’m pretty sure that was the first time Ethan had ever said please to me. How was I supposed to say no to that?
Ethan chuckled, then pushed off the bureau and pulled a black suit coat from a valet stand. “I hear the Master can be such a pain in the ass.” He definitely had his moments.
“Dear God,” I murmured. Lindsey patted my arm. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s about time you two made the beast with two backs.”
The headline on the front page—the front page—read, PONYTAILED AVENGER SAVES PATRONS IN SHOOT-OUT. A picture of me helping Berna into the ambulance was set below the headline. And there was one more surprise—the byline. Nick Breckenridge was listed as the author of the article.
A weirdly nice article from someone who appeared to hate her guts a week or so ago.
Cadogan House was an historic Hyde Park mansion turned vampire dorm—a restored beauty. Navarre House, on the other hand, was big and garishly white and took up the corner of one of the city’s most expensive chunks of real estate. It was four stories tall and was marked by a giant turret at the corner, the entire facade wrapped in the same white marble. “I think their turret is bigger than our turret,”
He looked down shyly, but I didn’t buy it, especially not when he lifted his gaze again, grinning wickedly. “I’m a man of simple pleasures, Ms. Sentinel.”
“You’ve changed your mind before. If you end it now and change your mind again, I won’t come back. I’ll stand Sentinel, but only as your employee. Not as your lover.” It took a moment for him to answer . . . and break my heart. “Then that’s the risk I take.”
“Now I recall why I best-friended you.” “You have a faulty memory. I best-friended you.” We looked at each other for a minute, schoolgirl-silly grins on our faces. We were back.
Yay! They made up. Finally
“I have cold pizza if you want some,” she said, “but I’ll warn you, it’s a little . . . different.” I picked up a foot-long black feather and twirled it in my hand. “How different?” “Catcher Bell different.” She opened the fridge, pulled out a wide, flat pizza box, and shut the door again with a bump. I leaned up and used both hands to push containers out of the way, leaving a bare spot big enough for the pizza box. This one was from another Wicker Park joint, the kind that made artisanal pizza with goat cheese and organic herbs. It wasn’t my favorite, but it definitely had its place in my
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do you want to be with a man who has to be convinced to be with you?”
Have you ever noticed that however uncomfortable you might have been when you first went to bed—the room too hot or too cold; the pillows not quite right; the mattress lumpy; the sheets scratchy—by the time you should get up, your bed has transformed itself into the Platonic ideal of beds? The room is cool, the bed is soft, and the pillow may as well have been God’s Own Headrest.
I found the bracelet in a shop in the Scandinavian District.” I frowned at her, puzzled. “Chicago has a Scandinavian District?” “Nope,” Catcher said. “But the store was next-door to a restaurant that sold pickled herring.
“Mallory Carmichael and Catcher Bell,” he said. “Catcher, I believe you and Lacey met when she was in the House.” “Yep.” That was all Catcher said. He didn’t bother extending a hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Catcher.” He barely acknowledged the greeting, and my heart warmed. Catcher was gruff, sure, but that usually didn’t involve outright snubbing people, at least in my experience. I may have given him and Mallory a lot of crap about their naked shenanigans, but he knew which team he was on.
Merit liked that
“Are you going to take care of my girl tonight?” “I always take care of my vampires.” Mallory smiled sweetly. “All evidence to the contrary.”
The shade!
We made a mistake. We’ve both since remedied it, so let’s move on, shall we?” “A mistake.” He actually had the gall to sound surprised at my answer, but I didn’t buy it. He hadn’t used the word “mistake” in his post-Breckenridge guilt party, but that was pretty much what he’d said.
Now he knows how it feels when he says that to Merit.
“No meat on bones, you don’t find man.”
he tossed the empty bottle and cap in a recycling bin,
What a fine upstanding citizen
another set of green eyes, eyes that looked nothing—and everything—like Ethan’s.
Ethan and Merit’s kid? I know they can’t have children but maybe?
the best revenge is a life well lived or whatever. That means you need to look completely, insanely fabulous, and you need to have a fantastic time.”
“It is now time to partake of a proud Temple Bar tradition. Not that the tradition is proud, but Temple Bar certainly is.” “Long live Temple Bar!” shouted the vampires in unison. Sean offered a kingly bow, then gestured toward Margot. There was hooting in the crowd, then the squeak of wood on wood as chairs were turned to face her. She raised her hands. “Ladies and vampires,” she shouted, “it’s time for a round of drinks honoring the various and sundry personality tics of the Master with the mostest—Ethan Sullivan!”
“I don’t think we’re giving anything away by saying that our dear Master and liege, Ethan Sullivan, is a little bit—” “Particular,” Lindsey finished. “He’s very, very particular.” “Yeah,” I said dryly, “I had a sense.” “He’s also a creature of routine,” Margot explained. “Of personality tics and habits. Quirks, you might say, that can grate on the nerves.” “Like the tag in the back of a really scratchy sweater,” Lindsey suggested. Margot winked at her. “Every so often, we gather together. We take a little time—a little cathartic time—to vent about those quirks that drive us crazy.” Elbows on
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We drank for every mention of Amit Patel, for every speech Ethan gave about duty, for each mention of alliances, for each time he answered a knock at his office door by saying, simply, “Come.” We drank for each time he jiggled his watch, each time he straightened his cuff links, each time he shuffled papers when you reported to him in his office.
This is amazing!
We moved and torqued our bodies as if gravity made no difference at all, as if we were partners in a pas de deux.
“Always remember,” he whispered to me, “that you are an uncommon soldier, whatever they say. And you are quite a thing to behold.”
You think I haven’t thought about what it might be like to return to my rooms at the end of the night and find you there—to find you in my bed, to have your body and your laugh and your mind? To look across a room and know that you were mine—that I’d claimed you. Me.” He drummed a finger against his chest. “Me. Ethan Sullivan. Not the head of Cadogan House, not the four-hundred-year-old vampire, not the child of Balthasar or the Novitiate of Peter Cadogan. Me. Just me. Just you and me.”
“Caroline.”
So that’s her name, than?
But we were alive. We glanced over at each other. I was just about to speak, but before I could get out words, his hand was at the back of my head, his mouth pressing against mine. The intensely possessive kiss left me gasping for breath, but even as he pulled back, his fingers stayed knotted in the back of my hair.
“This is a wish,” he said quietly, “that even after four hundred years of existence, a man can be strong enough to accept the gifts he’s given.”
