Twice Bitten (Chicagoland Vampires #3)(34)
Author: Chloe Neill

"Your opinion is noted," Ethan said flatly. "And we will act as we deem in the best interest of our House."

"Oh, we’re well aware of that," Morgan replied, then flung the paper across the room. Aided by Morgan’s vampire strength, it zipped through the air like a Frisbee, finally coming to rest at Ethan’s feet.

Ethan glanced down at it, then raised his gaze to the Navarre Master again.

"Nothing in the article was our doing," he said. "We had no idea it was being written, and we have had no communication with the author."

He took a menacing step forward, his eyes cold and bright.

"But, more important," he said, his voice an octave lower, "none of the information in that article was untruthful. You may wish to hide behind your position as a Master, but recall the House from which you arose. Celina is responsible for the deaths of humans, deaths unrelated to her need for blood. Deaths she apparently undertook because the humans were convenient pawns in her quest for power. You may find denial convenient, but she was Master of this House, and this House will bear the burden of the decisions she’s made, however horrible those decisions, however onerous those burdens. If you want to change the public’s perception of the House, then change the House. Make it your House, a House of honor, a House that reaches out to other communities, a House that defends all vampires instead of taking up arms for one who has done us all a disservice by her deeds. A profound disservice," he added. Morgan sat in his chair for a moment, then swallowed. The room was silent, at least until Ethan’s cell phone buzzed. He patted the pockets of his suit jacket until he found it, then pulled it out and glanced at the screen. He glanced up at Morgan. "May I step outside to take this?" Morgan was quiet for a moment. The office door opened and Nadia stepped inside.

"Liege?" she asked. He must have called her telepathically.

"Ethan needs to take a call. Will you take him to your office?"

"Certainly," she said. She smiled and gestured toward the door. Ethan walked out, and she followed suit, then shut the door behind her, leaving Morgan and me alone in his office.

Together.

I kept my gaze on the floor, trying to will myself invisible.

Without preface, Morgan spoke up. "How are things between you two?"

Given the blush on my cheeks, I was glad I’d turned back to face the window, but I ignored the undertone of his question. "I think we have a pretty good working relationship."

"That’s not what I meant."

"No," I corrected, unwilling to answer deferentially when he couldn’t manage a civil conversation with me, "that’s not what you want to hear, but that answers your question."

"I heard you attacked him. Was that prompted by our conversation?"

"It was prompted by Celina’s attacking me on the street." I didn’t offer details, assuming Ethan had at least filled him in on his former Master’s ill-advised return to Chicago.

There was silence for a moment, long enough that I glanced back at Morgan. There was regret in his expression.

"You knew," I guessed, turning back toward him. "You knew she was in town, and you didn’t tell anyone." And then I remembered what I’d seen when Celina had attacked me. "She was wearing a new Navarre medal. She came by here," I said with sudden realization. "She came to the House, and you saw her. That’s how she got the medal."

Morgan looked at the floor, his gaze shifting left and right as he prepared his allocution. "She built this House," he quietly said. "She is my Master, and she built my House. She asked for a medal to replace what was taken from her." When he lifted his gaze to mine, I could see the conflict in his eyes. He truly wanted to honor the vampire who’d given him immortality, to do right by her. But I wasn’t sure harboring a criminal – Master or not – was the way to go about it. And with thoughts like that, maybe I was ready to think about Red Guard membership. . . .

"Is she still in Chicago?"

"I don’t know."

I played Ethan, arching an eyebrow back at Morgan.

"Honestly," he said, both hands raised, "I told her she couldn’t stay here. I told her I wouldn’t report her to the GP, but that she couldn’t stay here." And then something interesting happened – there was a sudden glint in his eyes, a sign of Master-worthy strategy. "But I didn’t promise not to tell you." Nice of him to lay that burden on me, but there was nothing to do about it now. "Any thoughts on where she is?"

Morgan leaned back in his chair. "Nothing specific. But it’s Celina – she loves fashion, elegance." He indicated the office around him. "Case in point, this place is practically a museum."

"An homage to her?"

He glanced up at me, humor in his eyes, and for a moment I saw the thing that had attracted me to Morgan in the first place. For all that Ethan complained about Morgan’s being "too human," it was the humanity that sparked his precocious sense of humor and that fueled his compassion for his former Master, however undeserved.

"Something like that, yeah," he said. "So if she had decided to camp out in Chicago, you’d expect it to be nice. She wouldn’t be sharing a fourplex. You’d have to look for her in Hyde Park, the Gold Coast, Streeterville. Somewhere with a doorman, an elevator, a view. A penthouse. A condo on the Lake. A golden age mansion. Something like that. But I don’t think she’d stay here. Her face was all over the television, and there are just too many eyes on the ground." I wasn’t sure I bought the argument that she’d travel all the way back to the States to harass me, then take off for Europe again. But then again, Celina wasn’t exactly operating by the same rules as the rest of us. "Then where do you think she is?"

Morgan blew out a breath. "Honestly? I’d put money on France. It’s where she’s from, and staying in Europe keeps the GP and the CPD off her back."

My doubts notwithstanding, he had a point. "Well, I appreciate the intel." He shrugged. "What will you do now?"

"I’ll tell Ethan." I wasn’t sure what Ethan would want to do, although the fact that there was a chance, no matter how slim, that Celina was still in Chicago was probably something he’d want to pursue after the convocation. But today we had enough on our plate.

"Of course you will," Morgan said. And there was the downside of his humanity – that snarky, teenage petulance.

"You might remember that he’s my Master. So all that deference you show Celina, I show to him." Morgan sat up again, then swiveled in his chair to face the spread of papers on his desk. "And I’m sure your relationship is entirely professional, since you always take his side."