Some Girls Bite (9 page)

It wasn’t the first time I’d considered that connection, but the idea was more unnerving coming from his lips. It gave legitimacy to the possibility that I was the intended victim of a vampireturned-serial killer. But it also raised other questions.

“You know, it’s quite a coincidence that you were trolling across campus at the same time I was attacked by a vamp.”

He lifted deeply green eyes to mine. “There was a considerable amount of luck involved.”

We looked at each other for a moment.

“Ethan,” I softly said, “you didn’t kill Jennifer Porter, did you?”

His lashes fell, crescents of long, dark blond against golden skin. “No, I didn’t kill her. Nor did anyone from my House.”

I wasn’t sure if I believed him, although I had no reason to doubt his honesty, not when he’d dealt with me, even I could admit, generously. I’d openly challenged the head of my House, and all I’d suffered for it was a little embarrassment before a cadre of vampires I didn’t know. I opened my mouth to ask about the note, but before I got anything out, something set off the gallery. They began to yell down at us, the general consensus being that I deserved a beating.

“Liege!” one yelled. “You can’t let her get away with challenging you!”

He raised his gaze to his vampires. “You’re right. I’ll send her to her room without dessert and take away her cell phone!”

The crowd snickered, but Ethan raised a hand again, and as if he was conducting the symphony of their voices, they quieted immediately. Whatever my issues with his authority, they were clearly much less reticent.

“Friends, she made a good-faith effort to best me. And since she hasn’t yet taken the oaths, she hasn’t”—he glanced at me—“
technically
breached the
Canon
. Besides, she rose a mere two days ago, and nearly managed to catch me. She will make an undeniably important addition to the House, and we all know how . . . delicate our alliances are.”

There were fewer titters now, mixed with reluctant nods.

“More important, she came here in fear for her life.” He held up the note. “She rose a mere two days ago, and she’s been threatened.”

The redhead who’d accompanied him in the parlor stepped to the edge of the balcony. “Are you sure she hasn’t brought war to us, my Liege?”

If I had any question as to what she was to him, her cannily cocked hip and bedroom eyes were answer enough. Girlfriend. Lover. Consort, if we were sticking with feudal terms. I expected to see Ethan’s emerald eyes on her lush curves, but when I turned back to him, his gaze was on me, his smile cocky, like he knew I’d been appraising his mistress.

I shrugged. “She seems nice enough, if you like the busty, voluptuous, gorgeous type.”

“Much to my dismay”—and that rang clear in the irritably flat tone of his voice—“I find I have a sudden taste for stubborn, lithe brunettes with horrible fashion sense.”

He might as well have been parroting lines from
Pride and Prejudice
, for all the disdain that rang through his voice, his obvious aversion at being attracted to a woman so déclassé. Self-conscious again of my casual clothes—but cognizant of the fact that I looked good in them—I managed not to tug at my T-shirt or jeans. Instead, I slipped thumbs into my belt loops and tapped fingers against my flat hips. Ethan watched the movement intensely. When his eyes lifted again, I arched an eyebrow. “Not even in your dreams, Sullivan.”

He only grunted in response.

I smirked.

The door to the sparring room opened, and Malik entered with a tall man. This one wore his slacks and dress shirt with discomfort, and from the strong set of his jaw, broad shoulders, and tousled sun-kissed hair, I guessed he’d be more comfortable in jeans and cowboy boots. I let my gaze drop, checked his shoes. Sure enough, they were black alligator with silver-tipped toes. Called that one.

It also occurred to me that I hadn’t yet seen an unattractive vampire. They were all fit, tall, impeccably groomed, undeniably handsome. Flattering, I guess, that they’d made me one of them, unless you thought too hard about the circumstances.

Ethan approached the men and handed over the note. They reviewed it in turn, chatting and occasionally glancing over at me and Mallory. She linked an arm through mine.

“I’ve decided this is going to be a treat to watch.”

I slid her a dubious glance.

“I’ve known you for three years. That entire time, you’ve been puttering around the little ivory tower you built for yourself. You need to be rescued. And if you can’t be rescued by Prince Tall, Sexy, and Alive”—she looked over at the trio of deliberating vampires and scanned Ethan’s half-naked body—“he’s certainly the next best thing.” She made an evil-sounding chuckle. “And you complained about your oral exams. This boy’s gonna be the biggest challenge of your life.”

“Calling him a ‘challenge’ assumes I’m interested. And I wasn’t puttering around. I was writing a dissertation.”

“You’re interested,” she declared. “And given that possessive look in his eyes, I’d say he’s interested, too.”

“He thinks I’m unsophisticated.”

She looked over at me. “You’re you. Unapologetically you. And he can’t do any better than that.”

I kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Mal.”

“Yup.” She released me and ogled the threesome of vamps, who stood in a tight knot in front of us, discussing our fate. Then she rubbed her hands together. “Now. Which one do I get? How about Cowboy Pete?”

I was saved formulating an answer (which, incidentally, would have been something along the lines of “Don’t you have a boyfriend?”) by Ethan, who motioned us closer with a single crooked finger. When we reached the group, he gestured to his comrades. “Malik, my Second, who I believe you’ve met, and this is Luc, Captain of my Guards.” He motioned toward us. “Merit, two-day-old Initiate, and Mallory, her roommate, who likely has the patience of a saint.”

Mallory chuckled, the traitor, but then got exactly what was coming to her. Although Malik and Luc nodded in greeting, Luc then frowned down at her from his towering six feet and change.

“You have magic.”

Mallory blinked. “What’s that now?”

Ethan ran a finger delicately over her hair as she flinched beneath it. “Ah,” he said, nodding. “I’d wondered.”

“Wondered what?” she asked.

“Who brought in the magic,” Malik said so casually you’d have thought he was discussing the weather.

Mallory put hands on her hips. “What the hell are you people, and I use that term loosely, talking about?”

Luc inclined his head toward Mallory, but looked at Ethan. “Is it possible she doesn’t know?”

“Doesn’t know what?” I asked, irritation rising. “What the hell is going on?”

As if I hadn’t spoken, Malik shrugged at Luc. “If she’s not union yet, it’s possible the Order hasn’t yet picked up on her post-adolescence. This is Chicago, after all.”

“True,” Ethan said. “We should call the Ombud, tell him there’s a new witch in town.”

“New witch?” Mallory asked, paling. “Time out. Who’s a witch, hoss?”

Ethan glanced at her, brow arched, and his tone couldn’t have been more bland. “You, of course.”

 

While Mallory came to terms with that little revelation, Ethan and his staff filled me in on the current state of vampire relations in Chicago. While most vampires in the world—all the registered vampires—were affiliated with Houses, a minority were categorized as Rogues, vampires who had no ties to a House and no loyalty to a particular Master. There were a number of ways this could happen—being bitten by a vampire who wasn’t a Master and thus wasn’t strong enough to command the newly changed; by defecting from a House; or by being bitten by an unaffiliated vampire who required no oaths of loyalty or fealty.

Because of the implicit danger they posed to the House structure, they were treated as outcasts. And because they were rarely strong enough individually to take on House vampires, they were usually ignored by the Houses unless they’d chosen, somewhat ironically, to band together into anarchistic units.

Chicago’s vamps believed Jennifer Porter’s death was the work of a Rogue, maybe one unsatisfied with living in the shadow of Chicago’s Houses. This possibility posed two problems.

First, humans didn’t know Rogue vampires existed. They knew about the Houses, and seemed to take some comfort in the fact that vampires were organized into political bodies, were supervised by their Masters, and lived by a code—the
Canon
. That was a kind of existence that humans could relate to. And that was why vamps were tight-lipped about Rogues, about the fact that vampires with no House ties, no supervision, and no laws were living in their midst.

Second, as the vamps in the press conference had pointed out, a Cadogan medal, identical to the one Ethan (and, I belatedly realized with a glance around the room, the rest of the Cadogan vamps) wore snug around his neck, had been found at the site of Porter’s death. Ethan was confident no one from his House was involved, and he’d agreed to cooperate fully in the Chicago Police Department’s investigation. The CPD had interviewed him, and he’d agreed to interview each and every vampire in residence at Cadogan House to assure himself and the CPD detectives that his House, and his vampires, were innocent. He suspected, as did the representatives of Navarre House with whom he’d spoken (including Celina Desaulniers, its Master), that a Rogue was to blame for Porter’s death. But that didn’t explain
why
she’d been killed, especially since the Greenwich Presidium, the organization that regulated vampires in North America and Western Europe, would mete out its own punishment to the offender. Before the death of Jennifer Porter, the possibility of death-by-aspen-stake had been strong enough to protect humans. Now—who knew?

Whoever the perpetrator, the threesome believed my attack was the second attempt by the killer, and the note evidence of his bitterness at having failed to kill me.

“My name was in the paper today,” I reminded them, “so the person who threw the brick wasn’t necessarily the one who bit me.”

“But it was only your last name,” Malik said. “It’s doubtful he’d have been able to figure out who you were simply because of that.”

Ethan shook his head. “She’s a Merit. For better or worse, as often as the family appears in the papers, he’d have been able to figure out which Merit was involved. Robert and Charlotte are older and have children. They’re not the typical candidates for change.”

Disturbing, I thought, that he knew so much about my family. “But if he meant to kill me,” I asked, “why the note? The language suggested a choice, like I picked Ethan over the vampire who attacked, picked Cadogan over whatever group he was affiliated with. If he was going to kill me, why would it matter?”

Luc frowned. “So maybe this isn’t related to the Porter girl’s death?”

“Maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t,” Ethan unhelpfully pronounced. “Without more information, we can’t discount either possibility. What we do know is that we were the second vampires at the scene of the attack. The language of the threat suggests that whatever plans had been made for Merit—death or otherwise—they’d been unable to follow through. They blame that on her and, to a more general extent, us. Given the tone of the note, maybe the House system more generally.”

“So we’re definitely thinking Rogues, then,” Malik summed up, “or a House with some unspoken animosity toward us. Grey?”

Luc snorted. “Opening day was last week. Scott’s attention is on completely different things right now, namely the Cubs’ chance at a pennant. It’s unlikely he’d be involved in this even if they cared about House politics, which they don’t. What about Navarre?”

Ethan and Malik shared an undecipherable glance. “Doubtful,” Ethan said. “As old and prestigious as Navarre is—”

“Or so they think,” Malik interjected.

With an amused expression, Ethan finished, “Navarre would have little to gain from warring with us. Celina’s strong, the GP loves her, and she’s positioned herself as poster child for Chicago vampires. There’s simply no reason for her to worry about Cadogan.”

“Which means we’ve got investigating to do,” Luc concluded.

Ethan nodded at me. “Luc will station sentries at your house. We’ll continue looking into the threat, and perhaps as we gain information about the Porter death, we’ll learn more about this. If you see anything suspicious, or if you’re attacked again, call me immediately. He pulled a card from his trouser pocket and handed it to me. It read, in tidy block letters:

“NAVR number four?” I asked, card between my fingers.

“That’s our registry number,” Malik explained, and I remembered the NAVR tag under the announcement in the
Sun-Times
. “We were the fourth vampire House established in the United States.”

“Ah.” I slid the card into my pocket. “Thanks. We’ll call if something comes up.”

“Not that this visit hasn’t been educational,” Ethan said, eyes on Mallory, “but we need to get back to work. I believe we’ve had plenty of excitement for one evening.” He dismissed Malik and Luc and motioned us toward the training room door.

The gazes of the vampires we passed still edged toward hostility, but at least they were tempered with curiosity. On the other hand, I’m not sure if that was better or worse; I generally preferred staying under the radar of people-sucking predators.

Or I would have, if I’d given that kind of thing any thought.

Ethan escorted us back through the House. When we reached the front door, he put a hand on my arm. “Mallory, could I have a word with Merit, please?”

“It’s your pitch,” she replied, and bounced through the doorway to the steps below.

He looked at me. “My pitch?”

“It’s a soccer thing. What did you need?”

His mouth tightened into a grim line, and I could tell he was preparing to speechify. “What happened tonight is unusual,” he said. “For an Initiate to challenge a Master is virtually unheard of, as is the Master not punishing an individual who has challenged his or her authority. I’m giving you a break because you didn’t choose to rise as a vampire, because our laws mandate consent, and you weren’t in a position to offer it.” He gazed down at me with frigidly green eyes.