House Rules (Chicagoland Vampires #7)

House Rules (Chicagoland Vampires #7) Page 8

EGGSACTLY

As usual, Margot outdid herself. Ethan had asked for comfort food, and Margot decided on a full diner-style breakfast: eggs, toast, potatoes, and sausage. Wearing her chef's whites, she rolled in a cart, silver domes covering the food and a glass pitcher of orange juice on the side.

"That smells delicious," Ethan said, clearing space at the conference table for Margot to place the trays.

"We aim to please here at Cadogan House," she said with a smile, winking at me as she uncovered the plates and lit a silver candle in the middle of the table. "Ambience."

"Appreciated," Ethan said.

Margot made a small bow, then rolled the cart back out again and closed the door behind her.

Grandiosely, Ethan pulled out a chair for me and gestured toward it. "Madam."

"Thank you, sir," I meekly said, taking a seat.

Ethan took the seat at the head of the table, perpendicular to mine, and poured juice into our glasses. "A toast," he said, holding up his glass. "To Cadogan House. May she stand strong, financially and otherwise."

We clinked our glasses together and I took a sip. The juice was delicious, with the fresh bite and lingering umami of freshly squeezed oranges.

"So Michael knew Celina," I said, digging into scrambled eggs.

"He did. Not all Masters are fortunate enough to have relationships like I did with Peter. Some are more like the relationship I had with Balthasar," he ominously said.

Ethan met Peter Cadogan, the House's namesake, after Ethan had traveled Europe with his sire, a vampire named Balthasar who'd rescued him from a battlefield. Ethan had once said he'd considered himself a monster after he'd become a vampire; I'd wondered if he'd thought the same of Balthasar.

"Fortunate that you met Peter," I said.

Ethan nodded. "I was. He was a good man, and I'm better for knowing him. Many of us mourned his passing."

"I don't think I've ever asked. How did Peter die?"

He genteelly pressed the napkin to his mouth. "Extract of aspen."

My eyes widened. An aspen stake through the heart was one of the very particular ways to kill a vampire. But extract of aspen? That was a new one.

"I didn't even know there was such a thing."

"It's usually goes by more poetic names. Sometimes bloodbane or bloodberry, because the particular variety of extract turns crimson as it's prepared. It had a role in alchemy and earlier sciences. Its secondary effect on vampires was a later discovery."

"What does it do?"

"It's a slow, death-dealing poison," he said. He shoveled a mound of eggs onto his fork.

"When was the last time you ate?" I wondered.

"Yes," was all he said, loath to admit to his girlfriend how poorly he'd been taking care of himself.

I took a bit of eggs that seemed positively dainty by comparison. "The complete reorganization of a political system can be difficult for the schedule."

Ethan snorted through his eggs, then coughed his way through a laugh. "Well said, Sentinel. Well said."

"So, back to Peter. He was poisoned. By whom? And why?"

"His beloved's parents, unfortunately."

My eyes widened. I loved a good story - I'd been a literature student, after all - and this one sounded like a doozy. I plucked up a sausage roll and bobbed it at him like a magic wand. "Elaborate."

"Peter was a vampire. He fell in love with a woman who was not."

"Human?"

"Fairy," he said, and I winced, recognizing the drama.

"Yikes."

"Indeed. Cadogan House was situated in Wales at the time, but we'd traveled to Russia. Her name was Anastasia. She was the daughter of fairies of some repute - politicos with connections to Claudia, who was still in Ireland at that time - and who'd gained a title in the Russian aristocracy. Keeping face was very important to them, and they were staunch believers that fairies shouldn't mix with humans or anyone else.

"But Peter was in love," he said, a smile crossing his face. His eyes went slightly vacant, as if he were recalling. "You'd have liked him. He was a man's man. Brawny. Like me, a soldier before he became a vampire. He had a warrior's mentality, and that didn't stop simply because he joined the night brigade, so to speak. He was Welsh, didn't really believe in vowels to speak of. He had a ruddy complexion - more like an Irishman than a Welshman, although he wouldn't even hear of the possibility that there was Irish blood in his veins."

He looked at me again, his gaze sharpening and the corners of his mouth dropping again. "It was a great love," he said. "A big love, and very emotional. Equal parts love and hatred, I think, although neither Peter nor Anastasia would have admitted that. Unfortunately, her parents hated Peter, hated that Anastasia was 'lowering' herself by being with a nonfairy, and a vampire to boot. He was a Master vampire, but he was neither fairy enough nor wealthy enough for their preference."

"So what happened?"

"She wouldn't end the relationship, so her father decided to end it for them. Anastasia had a retainer - a weasel named Evgeni. He was a sneak, a liar, and a murderer. And, unbeknownst to Peter, he was doing her parents' bidding."

"He poisoned Peter," I said, understanding dawning.

Ethan nodded. "Slowly, and over time. Long enough and little enough that the poison accumulated in his heart. By that point, it was equivalent to a staking, although unfortunately a slower process. As it turned out, Evgeni's motivations weren't solely about his hatred of Peter and his sycophancy to Anastasia's father. He was infatuated with her."

My eyes widened. "That's a nasty love triangle."

"Indeed. One evening, after he dosed Peter with what he imagined was the fatal bit of extract, he confronted Anastasia. Whatever the faults of her people, she was very much in love with Peter, and had no interest in Evgeni, who was, frankly, an asshole."

"He sounds like it."

"But he didn't take her rejection seriously; he'd convinced himself Peter had glamoured her, that she wanted Evgeni and Peter was in the way. So when she said no . . ."

"He pushed?"

"And then some. He assaulted her," Ethan said flatly. "Peter heard her scream. By then he was so weak. We thought he'd been cursed by a witch." He laughed mirthlessly. "How silly that seems now."

"Actually, it doesn't. Consider what Mallory did. Also consider the fact that you're here right now because of her magic . . . and you're eating your toast with a fork. Why are you doing that?"

He shrugged. "It's how it's done."

"That's very much not how it's done, and I'm pretty sure I've seen you eat toast before."

Ethan was trying to lighten the mood, I realized. Doing something unbelievably pretentious - even for Ethan - and trying to make me laugh. But this story was too sordidly, horribly interesting for me to be distracted by vampiric foibles.

"Anyway," I said, "Peter heard her scream?"

"He ran to her. I rushed into the room just in time to see him pull Evgeni away. Anastasia was petite - a wisp of a thing - but she fought him like a hardened soldier. She just wasn't big enough. . . ." Ethan trailed off, shuddering at the memory. "Weak as he was, Peter was still a vampire. He threw Evgeni across the room, and then he collapsed. Her parents rushed in and thanked Peter for saving their daughter's virtue - Evgeni was a fairy, but his caste was too low for them. A few seconds later, it was over. Peter was gone."

"He turned to ash?"

"Before our eyes. Extract works more slowly than staking. And the worst of it was, there was nothing that could be done in the interim."

"He knew he was dying?" I quietly asked.

Ethan nodded. "And we knew it wasn't a curse. Evgeni forcibly confessed to it, and to Anastasia's parents' role. But Peter's act of saving her seemed enough to sway them. The floor was stone - big chunks of stone with jagged edges. I kneeled there beside him as he passed. My knees ached from it - from kneeling on that cold stone." He looked up at me. "Isn't it odd that I remember such an insignificant thing from so long ago?"

"Memory is a powerful thing," I said. "The pain probably set the memory, sealed it. I bet you remember the smell of the room, too."

Ethan closed his eyes. "Amber," he said. "Anastasia's home always smelled warm and rich. Heady summer roses. Roasted meats. Ale. But mostly amber." He opened them again. "I haven't told that story in a long time. I'm glad I'm telling it to you. It's important that someone know the history, especially since it's being rewritten as we speak."

I reached out and put a hand over his. "I'm really sorry for your loss. Peter sounds like a good friend."

Ethan nodded. "The curse of being immortal, Merit, is watching the passage of those you love - even those who aren't supposed to leave."

We sat quietly for a moment. "What happened to Evgeni?"

His eyes flattened. "He was dispatched."

My blood chilled a bit. "You killed him?"

"I avenged Peter's death and Anastasia's attack. Her father was too cowardly to do it."

That was an effective reminder that Ethan had lived most of his life in another time, a time during which life and death were bargained differently. I wouldn't call him cold, but he had the capacity for detached violence if he believed it was necessary and honorable. Violence he didn't shun, and for which he wouldn't apologize.

"What about Anastasia?"

"I don't know. I lost track of her after Peter passed. As far as I'm aware, her parents went back to insulating her from the world, at least the vampire portion of it."

"They must have been relieved," I said. "I mean, horrifically so, but still."

"They were thrilled, at least as much as fairies will ever show. Two problems addressed at once. The vampire wooing their daughter was dead, as was the fairy who'd attacked her." He crumpled his napkin on the table and crossed his legs. "You've met Claudia," he said. "I take it you're familiar with the fairies' conception of value?"

"They like money and treasure," I said. "They're less big on emotions, including love, at least that they'll admit." Claudia had had an affair with Dominic Tate, Seth Tate's evil twin, and although she'd clearly been infatuated with him, she denied love was anything fairies deigned to involve themselves in.

Ethan nodded. "All true."

"The dragon's egg," I said, suddenly realizing. "Luc said a Russian duchess gave Peter the egg. That they'd 'bonded.' Anastasia's mother was the duchess?"

Ethan smirked. "She was, although I believe his summary changes a bit in each retelling."

"Like a game of 'telephone'?"

He looked at me quizzically. "What's the game 'telephone'?"

"It's a party game," I said. "You sit in a circle, and one person whispers something to the person beside her, and she whispers it to the person beside her, and so on and so on, until the last one tries to guess what the person at the beginning said. The answers are always different after having been passed around."

"Ah," he said. "Then yes. It's very much like that, although Luc's got the gist of it. The egg was a thank-you to Peter from the duchess and her husband for what he did for Anastasia - if a posthumous thank-you. And it was a priceless thank-you, as far as the fairies were concerned."

Priceless not only because of its intrinsic value or its value to the fairies, but because they'd actually thanked the vampires, when clearly there was no love lost between them.

"Score one for supernatural relations," I said.

There was a knock at the door, which opened. Helen stepped inside. "The vampires are assembled."

"Thank you, Helen. We'll be with you in a moment."

Helen nodded and exited again, closing the door behind her.

By the time I looked back at Ethan, he was well into Master vampire mode: his expression blank, his shoulders back, his chin authoritatively set. He adjusted the cuffs of his shirt before glancing at me.

"I think you'll enjoy this particular performance, Sentinel," he said.

I wasn't sure exactly what he had in mind, but I wasn't about to doubt him.

And, of course, I took a moment before heading inside to share the evening's most important news in a quick text to Mallory: ETHAN EATS TOAST WITH A FORK.

It took a moment before she responded. DARTH SULLIVAN = PRETENTIOUS HOTTIE, she responded.

I really didn't have a reason to disagree with that. But I loved that we were talking again.

The House's ballroom was on the second floor, right beside the House library. It was a beautiful space, with wood floors, high ceilings, and majestic chandeliers that cast golden light around the room, although the nervous magic felt electric enough to illuminate the space on its own.

Michael Donovan stood with Lacey in the back of the room. They chatted together quietly and familiarly, probably having known each other during Lacey's time at Cadogan House. They both glanced at me as I followed Ethan inside. Michael's glance was pleasant; Lacey's was suspicious.

I smiled pleasantly back at both of them - I was a grown-up, after all - as Ethan made his way to the raised dais at the front of the room. Hands in his pockets, he waited until the vampires quieted.

"Good evening," he said. "Thank God it's been quiet here tonight."

The crowd offered a good-natured chuckle. We all knew when to laugh at the boss's jokes. But the tone changed quickly.

"I'm going to dispense with the pleasantries," he said, "and get to the point. Tomorrow, in a ceremony here at midnight, we will exit the GP. The ceremony is not long, but I expect Darius will have no shortage of wisdom to pass along. When the ceremony is complete, our House will no longer be affiliated with the Greenwich Presidium. Nor will we be members of the North American Vampire Registry."

Ethan reached up and touched the gold medal around his neck. "Tomorrow," he said, "we will return our medals to the GP."

There was a cacophony of noise, of fearful shouts and angered outbursts. No one wanted to give up their medals, including myself. The golden disks were our dog tags, our identification, our badges of honor. They marked us as vampires, as Cadogan vampires, as Novitiates of a proud and noble House. They also marked us as members of the NAVR, which was precisely Ethan's point.

"Novitiates!" Ethan yelled out, and the crowd quieted. "We have no choice; nor would I give us any. It is the right and honorable thing to return the badge of the GP's authority over us. But I will be the first." He reached up and unclasped the medal from his neck. He held it in his fist for a moment before dropping it into a box on the dais beside him.

"If we are to do it," he said, "let us do it in solidarity."

Luc was next, then Malik. Then Kelley and Juliet and Helen. One by one, every vampire assembled in the ballroom walked to the podium, pulled the medal from his or her neck, and dropped it into the box at Ethan's feet.

I did the same, sharing a glance with him before I returned to my spot. He nodded, and I slipped back into the crowd.

"We also anticipate the GP will use its contracts with the House to contend it is the rightful owner of some of our assets. Part of that anticipated claim we must honorably accept; another part we will dispute. Regardless, to address our alleged debt, tomorrow we will give a substantial sum to the GP."

He paused while the vampires whispered nervously.

"This House has existed for centuries, and it will continue to do so. But we must tighten our belts. We will live, for the time being, more as humans, and less as vampires with decades upon decades of compound interest. Our assets will be consolidated. Some antiques will be sold. My vehicle, which was admittedly ostentatious, will be returned to the dealership."

There were masculine moans of disappointment from the crowd.

Ethan smiled with understanding and raised a hand to quiet the crowd. "This exercise will prove two things to us. First, that the GP is exactly what we believed it to be: selfish, motivated by fear, and unconcerned about the needs of individual vampires. Second, that we are strong. That we appreciate fine things, but we do not need them to survive. For we are Cadogan vampires."

There were appreciative hoots in the crowd.

"We are, of course, on our way to becoming Rogue vampires, at least of a sort. You may know two of our Rogue brothers and sisters were recently killed. Oliver and Eve were, by all accounts, lovely and caring individuals. Let us take a moment of silence in their memory. And let us hope that we soon can lead the murderer to justice."

The room went silent, even the magic calming as we offered our thoughts to Oliver and Eve.

"There is one more matter to attend to," Ethan said. "Our arguments with respect to the disputed contract provisions may not be strong. But we believe there is one act that will help simplify and solidify our position."

The lights suddenly went out, causing a moment of panic among the vampires, at least until they realized a golden glow emanated from the front of the room.

I moved quietly through the crowd to get a better look.

"Malik," Ethan said. "Come forward, please."

Malik stepped onto the dais holding a small white taper candle. The room was utterly silent but for the soft pops of the flickering flame as we all waited to find out what the hell was going on.

Ethan looked at him. "You're sure?"

"I am."

"You have the paperwork?"

"I do," Malik said, placing the candle on a holder in the dais. He took a folded piece of paper from his lapel pocket, then held a stick of red wax over his candle's flame. Droplets of wax began to bead as the wax melted.

Candlelight casting shadows across his face, Malik looked across at Ethan. "Upon this night, I set my seal upon this page and I relinquish the House to you, my Liege, its only and rightful Master."

We roared into applause and joyous shouts.

Ethan was taking his place again as Master of Cadogan House.

Malik moved the stick of red wax, and it dripped - thick and scarlet and fragrant - onto the paper in his hand. He put down the stick and pulled a handled brass seal from his pocket, pressing it into the wax and making official the act we'd been anticipating for so long.

The deed done, Ethan sighed with what sounded like relief. But even as he did it, his shoulders straightened, as if he'd donned again the mantle of House power and was ready to wield it. This time, my goose bumps were for a completely different reason.

He looked over the ballroom of vampires. His vampires. His eyes blazed as they made contact with mine.

"I am alive," he said. "I am alive and well and in good health. The House has been relinquished to me, and I have undertaken its leadership once again. I presume none of you object?"

Once again, the ballroom exploded with applause. The world might end tomorrow, but for tonight, our Master was back, and he was most definitely in charge.

Ethan stayed behind to answer questions from the vampires. Because dawn was rising, I headed upstairs to get ready for bed, and found a message on my phone. It was from Jonah.

"The lighthouse," he said. "Tomorrow night. Nine p.m. Look for the rocks. We'll be there." That was it.

The lighthouse stood in Chicago's main harbor, and provided light for ships seeking safety from Lake Michigan's breaking waves and rocky coastline. The lighthouse helped them find safe passage; now, ironically, it would be a place of reckoning for me.

I sat down on the bed and turned the phone over and over in my hand. As my initiation moved closer, I became even more swamped with guilt, and even less sure I was doing the right thing for the right reasons.

Times were so perilous. We were facing a fundamental change to our identities as vampires, and in the midst of the chaos, I was scampering away to join a rebel organization. And not just that, but an organization I couldn't tell Ethan - or anyone else - about. That didn't exactly make me feel honorable, or honest.

On the other hand, there seemed to be little dispute the RG was going to help the House. I wasn't even a member yet, and they'd already informed us of the GP's asset grab.

The RG was the kind of help we needed.

Stop whining, I warned myself, and sent a response to Jonah.

I'LL BE THERE. AND THANKS FOR THE CONTRACT TIP. YOU MAY HAVE SAVED OUR ASSES.

I put the phone away as the apartment door opened.

I'd made the decision to join the RG a long time ago. But for now, Ethan was home, so I rose to join him. The night would be over soon enough, and the fear would wait for later.