House Rules (21 page)

“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.”