House Rules (Chicagoland Vampires #7)(27)
Author: Chloe Neill

We winced sympathetically. That couldn’t have felt good for either of them.

They kept at it, the advantage switching back and forth as they worked through what seemed like every weapon in their arsenals: strikes, punches, kicks, and flips.

Michael was good. His form was strong and he made quick decisions, although his responses weren’t as creative as Ethan’s. Maybe Ethan was helped by the years of practice, of experiencing the "special" relationship with gravity that helped vampires stay airborne.

But what Michael lacked in creativity, he made up for in pure strength. He was brawnier than Ethan, lean, but broader in the shoulders compared to Ethan’s lithe frame.

They separated and paused for a moment, both breathing heavily, each watching the other carefully. Assessing and calculating their skills.

After a moment, Michael broke the silence. "If you want to improve, you’ve got to be willing to get dirty."

"That’s what she said," Luc whispered beside us, Lindsey coughing to hide an obvious snort.

"Dirty?" Ethan asked. Hands on his hips, a single eyebrow arched in aristocratic doubt, he gazed back at Michael.

"Dirty," Michael repeated. "You fight like a prince. Honorably. And that’s all well and good in the sparring room, but if you’re fighting for real, there’s a good chance they don’t give a rat’s ass if you’re following vampiric etiquette. They won’t be checking the Canon later. You have to be willing to fight back the way they’re fighting you. Otherwise you risk losing a fight – being killed or injured – or not disabling a foe when you have a chance. And that puts the burden on someone else."

For a moment, the training room was silent as we all watched Ethan, waiting for his reaction to the advice. Ethan wasn’t frequently corrected, especially when it came to fighting. But he held out a hand toward Michael.

"I appreciate your candor. As often as we train in the traditional methods, it’s easy to forget the purpose of the learning – protecting ourselves and those we love."

"Precisely," Michael said, nodding as they shook hands.

They separated just as Malik walked through the door and headed for Ethan, not bothering to wait for an invite.

"Good lord," Lindsey muttered. "And just when I was enjoying myself. What is it now? Robots? Monsters? Is McKetrick outside with a torch, ready to light the House on fire?"

"Possibly worse," Luc said, checking his phone, then raising his gaze to me. "Kelley just messaged me. Lacey Sheridan is nearly here."

The vampires in the balcony around me went silent, all eyes on me as if waiting for my reaction, their questions obvious: Will she throw a tantrum? Scream and cry? Pout and storm out of the room?

My cheeks burned at the apparently universal belief that I was an insecure basket case. "I already knew she was coming."

"Thank sweet Christ," Luc said with much drama and obvious relief. "I did not want to drop that bomb right now."

I gave him a flat look. "I’m not that bad."

"Yes, you are," said most of the vampires in my vicinity.

I managed not to give them all an obscene gesture, but followed suit when Luc stood up. "Let’s go downstairs and make nice." He pointed a finger at me. "And no staking the guests."

Unfortunately for Luc, it wasn’t the guest I was thinking about staking.

* * *

We walked upstairs again and waited for a few moments while Lacey completed her journey and Ethan changed into business attire again. The senior staff milled about in the foyer, although Michael was nowhere to be found. Ethan had probably stashed him in an office or the library to keep things moving forward.

I’d been prepared. I knew she was coming, and I knew she’d look like a supermodel ready for a strategy session – blond hair and makeup perfect, her lean frame draped in an expensive suit that hugged her body like it had been made especially for her. And it probably had.

But this . . . this I had not been expecting.

"What is she wearing?" Lindsey asked. "Why isn’t she in a suit? She’s always in a suit."

"Jeans," I quietly said. "She’s wearing jeans."

More specifically, jeans, knee-high riding boots, and a very chic caramel-colored sweater. She had dressed down – casually even – despite being Master of a House, returning to serve Ethan, her own Master, as he managed the transition of his House.

Certainly she wasn’t the first vampire to wear jeans. Most Cadogan House vamps did when we weren’t on duty, and even Ethan had made the transition. But Lacey Sheridan wasn’t any vampire.

The clothes weren’t the only change. Her hair was short like it had been before, but she’d angled her blond bob into a cut that fell to points at her jawbone. The look was modern and daring, and it accentuated her blue eyes and perfect cheekbones.

"She’s . . . changed," Lindsey whispered. "She looks good, but it’s weird to see her dressed so normally."

"Weird," I said, "and probably completely intentional."

"A makeover to bring her a little more in line with Ethan’s current tastes?" Lindsey whispered, glancing at me. "The probability is high."

Lacey picked that moment to look through the crowd and meet my eyes, and there was an unmistakable dare in her gaze. I assumed she knew Ethan and I were in a relationship, although it appeared she didn’t much care. She meant to have him, and she wasn’t going to let me stand in her way.

I sighed.

"That was a pretty sad sigh," Juliet said.

"I really, really hate drama," I said. "And I’ll bet you twenty dollars she’s bringing a load of drama with her."

"Not in those jeans," Lindsey said. "She’s not getting anything else in that two-hundred-dollar skintight denim."

I elbowed her, which made me feel a little better.

Ethan gestured toward me, beckoning me forward.

"Rock her socks off," Lindsey whispered.

I made a vague sound of agreement and moved forward. When I reached them, Ethan put a hand on my back. "Lacey, you remember Merit."

"The Sentinel," she said. "Of course. Nice to see you again, Merit."

Ethan had a habit of calling me "Sentinel" when he was in work mode. I guess Lacey had picked up the same habit. It made sense, since she seemed to view me more as an employee than a colleague. But I could take the high road.

"You, too," I said. "I appreciate your coming out to help Ethan."

Her expression momentarily faltered. My comment had been polite, but it had also been a subtle reminder of my position in the House – at Ethan’s side.

Ethan smiled and looked at Lacey. "Do you need time to freshen up? I know it was a long night’s travel."