Twice Bitten
HOUSE OF PAIN
I found Luc perched on the edge of the conference table that took up the middle of the Operations Room. Lindsey was at the computer station opposite Luc, where she could monitor feed from the security cameras in and around the House or research whatever supernatural drama was threatening to bubble over into Hyde Park.
They both looked up when I entered.
"How bad was it?" Luc asked. I guessed he and Ethan had talked about what had happened at the Brecks.
"It wasn't fabulous."
Lindsey swiveled around in her chair. "Is there anything else you want to talk about?" Her voice rang with quiet concern.
"Not especially."
"Ethan seemed weird," she said. "He didn't tell us anything about you and him, but he seemed really weird." I almost snarked back, but when I saw the worry in her expression, and heard the concern in her tone, I threw her a bone.
"I was dumped, and I'd like to think about something else for a little while." I pointed at the spread of documents on the conference table. "What's all this?"
"I - he did what?"
I appreciated the shock and dismay in Lindsey's voice but shook my head. "Business, please."
"Your show, Sentinel," Luc said, then hopped off the table and turned to face it. "This is prep work for your convocation field trip - schematics of St. Bridget's Cathedral." The door behind us opened, and Ethan walked in. He gave me a quick nod of acknowledgment before settling his gaze on the table. I reminded myself that I'd managed a relatively professional relationship with Ethan for all but one of the nights we'd known each other. If he was going to reject me for fear of mixing the personal and the professional, I could play the all-business vampire, as well.
"Plans?" Ethan asked.
Luc nodded. "Ask and ye shall receive."
"Technically," Lindsey said, turning back to her monitor, "check your e-mail and ye shall receive them from the Apex of the North American Central."
"Details," Luc said. "They're here now."
Ethan walked around the conference table to stand next to Luc. I followed and took point at Luc's other side.
"Your analysis?" Ethan asked.
Luc put on his game face. "I had two main goals. One - identifying trouble spots. Areas that snipers could sneak into, parson's holes, that kind of thing. Two - identifying exits."
"And what did you find?" Ethan asked.
Luc began flipping through the blueprints. "There are two main parts to the church. First up, the original structure, built in the late nineteenth century. Old religious architecture in Chicago means architectural anomalies. This architect was apparently paranoid, so there are plenty of hidey-holes."
"Shifters," Ethan and I simultaneously guessed.
"Quite possibly," Luc said. "We've found two trapdoors in the main part of the building." He pointed them out on the plans - one in the sanctuary proper, just behind the pulpit, and one in the choir stalls behind the pulpit.
"What else?" Ethan asked.
Luc flipped over a couple of sheets of paper. "In the 1970s, they remodeled the building and added the classroom wing. And at that time, they added what looks to be a panic room." He pointed it out on the blueprints. "It's in the basement. Looks like it started out as a bomb shelter, but in the remodel they reinforced it with concrete and added some wiring. So those are your question marks." Ethan nodded. "Exits?"
Luc flipped back to the schematic of the main floor of the church. "Front doors, obviously. There's also an exit inside the sanctuary on the right." He pointed it out, then traced his finger down the long, narrow sanctuary, and then through a doorway on the left to another set of rooms. "These are the offices and classrooms." He pointed out the exit at the end of that corridor. "Exit point is here, although there are windows in all the rooms in the event things go completely fubar."
I leaned toward Lindsey, who'd stood up to join us at the table, still wearing the slim, wireless headset that kept her in communication with the guard on ground patrol tonight (either Kelley or Juliet, since they were the only remaining guards) and the fairies outside the gate. "He seems to be having fun," I told her.
"He's in hog heaven," she whispered back. "Things have been peaceful for so long, he hasn't needed to do this kind of advance work. All of a sudden, we get a Sentinel, and shifters want vampires to come out and play."
"Yeah," I said dryly. "Clearly this whole convocation idea is focused on getting to know me better. It's the mixer you've always dreamed of."
"But hairier," she said. "Much hairier."
Ethan rubbed a hand across his jaw. "What else do we need to know?"
"That's about it for the architecture," Luc said. He pulled out a chair and sat down. Ethan and I did the same. Lindsey returned to her computer station.
"But if it's going to be you two against three hundred-odd shifters, we need to talk about contingencies.
Worst-case scenarios."
Ethan crossed one leg over the other, settling in for a strategic conference. "Your thoughts?"
"Three scenarios come to mind. First, an attack from outside the conference, something akin to what you saw at the bar. Second, the shifters are pissed that you're there, and they attack you."
"Good times," Lindsey whispered. I nodded, my stomach knotting a bit. Hunkering down behind a bar to avoid bullets - or even a little arm-grabbing by a Pack bully - was one thing; facing off against portions of four Packs of shifters was something else entirely.
"Third, the shifters can't make a decision, they get pissed at one another, and things go magically wonky."
Ethan slid Luc a glance. "Wonky? That's your official conclusion?"
"Signed and sealed. I assume you get the larger point." Ethan blew out a breath. "I get it. I'm not thrilled about it, but I get it. Well, what can we do to keep things calm?"
"How proactive can we be on that?" I asked.
Heads turned to face me. "What are you thinking, Sentinel?" Ethan asked.
"Vampires have the ability to glamour. I can't seem to do it" - I shifted my gaze to Ethan - "but I bet you can."
The room was quiet for a moment.
"You're thinking we glamour a church full of shifters to keep them calm? Anesthetized?"
"Could it be done?"
Luc hunched over the table, placed an elbow atop it, and put his chin in his hand. "It's theoretically possible, but we've never seen evidence shifters are especially susceptible to glamour. They're magical beings. I'd be afraid they'd sense it, feel it. And if they suspected we were attempting to manipulate them - "
"All hell would break loose," Ethan finished. "Interesting proposal, Sentinel, but let's stick to basic bluffing. We'll stand there with our swords and smile politely, and reach for the handles if things get nasty."
"Oh, and speaking of," Luc said, sitting up again and pushing back his chair. He walked over to his desk, where he picked up a small glossy white box. "End of the fiscal year is coming up, and we had a little bit of extra coin in our budget."
"Thank you for returning it to the House treasury," Ethan muttered, but I could see the gleam of boyish pleasure in his eyes as Luc flipped open the lid and pulled out two tiny earpieces.
"The tiniest buds on the market," Luc said, dropping the earbuds into his hand and walking them back to us. He flipped his hand over and placed them on the table. "Receiver, microphone, wireless transmitter.
There's one for each of you. We'll hear you through the receivers. If things do, in fact, go wonky, just give the word and we'll have a dozen guards outside the church."
"A dozen?" I asked, surprised. "We're down a guard, and even if you, Lindsey, Juliet, and Kelley were there, that leaves eight missing vamps and no one guarding the House."
"Since your field trip to Navarre," Luc began, "we've spoken with the Guard Captains at Navarre and Grey. They've loaned us vampires in the event of an emergency." I sat straight up at the mention of Jonah, my would-be Red Guard partner. I guess he wasn't above offering a little help to the Cadogan Sentinel, even if he didn't think much of her abilities.
Ethan cocked his head at me. "Are you all right, Sentinel? You seem flushed."
"I'm fine," I covered, smiling weakly. "Just surprised about the interoffice cooperation." Ethan shook his head. "We haven't cleared additional guards with Gabriel. I'm not sure they'd appreciate having nearly a dozen more vampires at their convocation." Luc shrugged. "Can't be helped. I'm sure as shit not sending you in without the possibility of backup.
Besides, if this thing goes bad enough to require us to send in a dozen more friendlies, I'm guessing Gabriel's not going to be too concerned."
Ethan nodded.
"We wouldn't have a lot of time to negotiate the details of a full contract, but I could also give the fairies a call to see if they'd be interested in posting some sentries or snipers around the church." Frowning contemplatively, Ethan crossed his arms. "I think the cost of recruiting and negotiating with the fairies at this point would exceed the benefit, especially since there's no guarantee we'd need them."
"Whatever you think best, Liege," Luc said with a snicker.
"I have decided opinions in that area," Ethan said crisply, approbation in his voice. "And our safe word?"
"Wonderwall."
Lindsey turned around and cast Luc a sardonic look. "Your safe word is the name of an Oasis song?"
"Blondie, I am the arbiter of all things fashionable in this House. Why not music?" Lindsey snorted, then turned back to her monitor and began clicking through computer screens.
"Spoken by a man wearing cowboy boots. I mean, seriously. Who wears cowboy boots?" Ethan and I both checked out his shoes. He was, indeed, wearing well-worn, alligator skin boots.
"Epitome of fashion," Luc said. "I watch the MTVs. I know what the kids are wearing."
"The kids are a century younger than you, hoss."
"Children," Ethan interjected, although the amusement was clear on his face, "let's stay on point. I have matters to attend to."
Lindsey, chastened, moved back to her monitor. I had the same urge to turn away, but no computer to turn to. I was used to their flirty banter, and usually I participated in it. But today it left me feeling hollow.
It was too casual, and I was still trying to find my emotional footing. It helped a little that Ethan seemed equally discomforted; half of his questions had been one or two words, and he'd hardly spared a word about convocation prep. This was business, sure, but even Ethan had a sense of humor. Well, on occasion.
"Our plan in the event of these contingencies?" Ethan asked.
"We're meeting at Joe's Chicken and Biscuits," Luc said.
"As the name suggests, Joe's is one of the Windy City's finest purveyors of chicken and biscuits. That's your rendezvous point. Anything happens, get back there. We'll pick you up. I'd just ask that you grab a ten-piece for me and the missus here."
"If things go bad, do we fight back?"
Ethan looked at me.
"Some of the shifters were already suspicious of us," I said, leaving unspoken the probability that they'd be even more suspicious after tonight. "I don't want to make things worse." Ethan frowned and rubbed his forehead. "The GP has a position statement on shifters."
"Do not fire until fired upon," Luc offered.
Ethan nodded matter-of-factly. "We do not strike with weapons unless we are threatened, or unless they are threatening to harm Gabriel."
We were all silent for a moment, maybe wondering whether I'd been sufficiently threatened to justify Ethan's reaction . . . or whether the GP was going to want a few words with our Master.
We all jumped a bit when Ethan's cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, checked the screen, then pushed back his chair and rose. "You may respond if necessary, but we are there to offer our support, not to make enemies without provocation. There are likely alliances within the Packs just as there are outside them, and we don't want to run afoul of any lines there." I'd been born to one of Chicago's wealthiest families. I was trained to play standoffish.
"I have an appointment," Ethan said, then slipped the phone back into his jacket. "You're dismissed.
We'll assemble here two hours before midnight tomorrow."
"Liege," I respectfully said, and caught Lindsey's eye roll at my Grateful Condescension - the fancy vampire term for ass-kissing. When Ethan was out of the room, presumably on his way to some important meeting, and the door was shut behind him, she snorted.
"I can't believe you're playing polite after he bailed."
"I warned you earlier - no personal commentary."
"One or two questions? They're pretty specific. Biologically specific, that is."
"Luc, your employee is being petulant."
"Welcome to my world, Sentinel. Welcome to my world." It being bare minutes before dawn, Lindsey and Luc shut down the House controls and officially handed the protection of the House to the mercenary fairies who guarded it while we slept. She offered to walk me upstairs for moral support; more likely, she wanted time to quiz me on Ethan's decision that we couldn't date.
"I only need a detail or two," she said as soon as we'd closed the Ops Room door behind us.
"There are no details to offer. We had a fling; he decided he couldn't afford to date me, so I'm now working on my I-Will-Survive vibe."
We took the stairs to the first floor, and had just turned the corner at the stairwell when we were blocked by an entourage of vampires - Margot, Katherine, and a female vamp with a shaved head and cocoa skin whom I didn't yet know. They literally stopped in front of us, a blockade to the rest of the first floor.
"Chicas," Lindsey said, propping her hands on her hips, "what's up?" The girls shared a look, then glanced at me, then turned back to Lindsey.
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," Margot said, "but we have a visitor." Lindsey looked at me and frowned. "Right now? It's nearly dawn. And there wasn't anyone in the dailies." The dailies were our once-daily dossiers of news and events at the House, planned guests, and off-campus trips planned by Ethan or Malik. Today's had been dominated by the shifter party, so I shook my head. Margot, who looked mighty uncomfortable, gnawed on the edge of her lip. "I'm not supposed to say anything."
Katherine bumped her with an elbow. "Spill it."
"It's just - he asked me a couple of hours ago to make a big sunset meal," Margot said. "Steak au poivre, souffle, the whole bit. And I thought something was odd, because he hasn't asked for steak au poivre in years."
My first thought, given that the food was French and the arrival secret, was that Ethan had invited Celina over for a sit-down. Since she'd tried to have me killed, it made sense that he'd want to keep the meeting on the down-low.
"Then we heard he was bringing in a guest," said the new girl, "and that she's on her way from the airport."
"Oh, and this is Michelle," Lindsey absently whispered, gesturing toward the new girl. I offered Michelle a smile and a wave.
"If it matters at all," Katherine said, "if it makes any difference, he's being a huge asshole, and we were totally rooting for you." There was pity in her expression.
My stomach tightened with nerves.
"Alrighty, ladies," Lindsey said, holding up her hands. "Dawn is on its final approach, so someone start at the beginning. What in the sam hell is going on?" The three girls glanced at one another again before Michelle, misery in her expression, looked back at Lindsey.
"It's the Ice Queen."
"Oh, shit," Lindsey murmured.
Margot nodded. "Lacey Sheridan's on her way to the House." My heart nearly stopped.
That sickening feeling returned again, twisting my stomach and threatening to push back the pizza I'd eaten earlier. Not only had Ethan decided I wasn't worth the trouble - he'd already made arrangements to pick up the pieces of our stunted relationship with someone else. I didn't know how not to take that personally.
"Good Lord," Lindsey muttered. "Hot or not, the boy has issues."
"I can't believe he'd ask her to come back here," Margot said. "Especially now." Especially now that he'd slept with me, or broken up with me?
The pity in Margot's voice brought hot tears to the edges of my lashes, but I blinked them back and looked up at the plastered ceiling to keep them from tracing down my cheeks. In that moment of weakness, when I was focused only on not crying in front of these virtual strangers, some of the walls that kept back the noise and sound began to tumble. The whispers I could no longer filter out began to circle around me. I belatedly realized we weren't the only vampires clustered together in the foyer, waiting for something to happen.
Black-clad vampires stood in groups of three or four, some with heads together as they whispered, some with eyes on me, some with gazes out the front windows that flanked the front door.
"She's on her way to the House," someone said.
"What about Merit?" asked someone else.
I clenched my eyes shut. My name was being whispered around the room. There were ninety witnesses to the act and now to the request that Lacey get to Chicago as soon as goddamned possible.
I opened my eyes again. I could feel my skin beginning to heat as humiliation and defeat gave way to that much more satisfying emotion - anger. Grief twisted into fury, and I could understand exactly how Celina's dismissal by some English beau could pull an emotional trigger, turning sadness outward into a spray of bitter shrapnel. I'm sure she wasn't the only woman - or man - in history for whom rejection had become fuel, that fire in the belly that moved her to action - to violence, to war, to destruction.
The vampire ego was no less fragile than the human one.
It was comforting, that anger; the ability to direct the emotion toward Ethan, instead of seeing my rejection as my own failure. I closed my eyes as goose bumps lifted on my arms, my body sinking into the feeling as though into hot bathwater.
When the room went silent, I opened them again.
The girls had silenced their pity party, all heads turning as Ethan walked through the main hallway and past us toward the front door.
"She must be here," Margot muttered, and we turned to watch him move.
She, I realized, must have been the reason for the phone call he'd received when he left the Ops Room - the reason he'd dismissed us. Ethan opened the door, then leaned forward to embrace a woman. "Lacey," he said, "thank you for coming on such short notice." His voice was warm, the implication of his words clear - he'd asked her here.
She must have been the cool sherbet to my garlic sauce, the palate cleanser he needed after a night with me. I swallowed down a sudden bout of nausea. When he released her and stepped clear, then began shaking hands with the remainder of her entourage, I got my first look. She was tall and slender, her blond hair cut into a sharp bob that ended just below her chin. Her face was model perfect - straight, long nose, wide mouth, blue eyes that held an icy sheen. She was dressed in a pale blue pantsuit that hugged her lean body; on her right hand was a single ring that carried an oversized pearl. She was beautiful, put together, elegant.
She was everything he'd want.
And she was here, in Chicago, from San Diego, because he'd asked her.
"The House looks lovely, Ethan. I like what you've done." He turned back to her and smiled. But as he turned his head to look over the room, as he caught sight of the knots of vampires in the hallway, his smile faded. He surveyed us, body tensing, and finally met my eyes.
As we stared at each other, I wondered why he'd called her here, what succor he thought she could provide. I wondered why dating me would have been a sacrifice, but inviting back a former lover was not.
I saw nothing in his eyes that would explain it, only a dose of shock that I'd caught him in the act. I don't know what I wanted to say to him, but I took a step forward, intent on telling him something.
"Whoa, whoa," Lindsey said, moving to stand in front of me. "Don't go storming over there. You don't want to be that girl."
I snorted, half the room's attention on me now. "What girl? The girl who got replaced within a matter of hours?" I fiercely whispered, then looked around the room. "They may not have known about the breakup, but the evidence is pretty clear. Is there anyone who doesn't think it now?" Margot, Katherine, and Michelle all looked away.
"Mer," Lindsey said, putting her hands on my arms, "we're your friends, your fellow Novitiates. But Ethan's a Master, and so is Lacey. Embarrassing yourself in front of them would be a whole different level of humiliating."
She had a point.
Okay, I decided. I wouldn't confront him, but I also wouldn't hurt myself further by watching their interactions. I turned around and, without another word, took the stairs to the second floor. I went to my room and locked the door behind me. I didn't cry - wouldn't cry. Not again.
I also wouldn't sleep.
It being minutes before dawn, I changed into pajamas and climbed into bed. It had been a long night, but I lay awake, one arm behind my pillow, staring at the ceiling. Dawn was coming, the pull of it enticing my eyes to close, my brain to shut off. But the human part of me kept replaying the moments we'd shared, few though they were, and wondering if there was something I could have done, should have said, to give us a chance. I'd made myself vulnerable, and I was paying the price. But the real insult was that the entire House now knew - or would soon enough - about my being summarily dumped and replaced.
Admittedly, I'd given him a chance. But that didn't mean I had to keep making bad decisions. I blew out a breath and swore off dating vampires. It was at that moment, ironically, that my would-be RG partner decided to give me a call. Assuming he was getting in touch because he'd heard from Luc about ConPack, I plucked up my phone and flipped it open. "Merit."
"It's Jonah," he said. "Are you ready for this thing tomorrow night?" I appreciated the concern in his voice, but I wasn't sure if it was directed at me on a personal level, or because I was potentially an RG
asset.
"We've met the Pack leaders, spent some time with the NAC, and seen schematics of the building. We have a communications plan, and you guys are backup." I shrugged. "That's as prepared as we can be." I skipped the details of the interaction that would have embarrassed Ethan; no point in both of us feeling miserable.
Jonah offered a vague sound of agreement. "If I'm asked later, we never had this conversation. But I'm wondering if this is a time to request RG backup? To have guards on standby?" I couldn't get the words out fast enough. "This is definitely not that time. I appreciate the offer of support, but there are plenty of shifters out there who hate us." I'd seen that in action, firsthand. "Sending in special ops and black helicopters isn't going to help. It will only fuel the fire. Trust me - we're in better stead than we might have been if we hadn't been at the bar, but we're not 'in' by any means." He was quiet for a moment. "And if the shit goes down?"
"Then Luc will call you in. You're a Red Guard, which means at that point you'd have the authority to make decisions on their behalf. But you can't move early on this one. They think we're too political.
Untrustworthy. If we show up with extra vampires in tow - and without a crisis to justify it - we've proved their point. Let's go in assuming there'll be trouble that we can handle. And if things escalate into your jurisdiction, you can make the call."
Another moment of consideration. "We'll stand by for now. Good luck." I hoped we wouldn't need it.