Twice Bitten (Chicagoland Vampires #3)(36)
Author: Chloe Neill

Ethan’s answer wasn’t nearly so equivocal. "Let’s hope so. Let’s hope so." The house overflowed with people and happiness and earthy, peppery magic. Men and women ate and drank and chatted while children ran to and fro amongst them, joy in their expressions, toys in hand. The doors to the elegant ballroom were open, and a long buffet overflowing with food lined one wall. It felt more like a holiday gathering than a last (pre-convocation) supper.

"Merit!"

Before I could react, Jeff was in front of me, arms wrapped around me, his lips pressed to my cheek.

"We’re so glad you’re here."

I smiled and hugged him back. I assumed his elation had something to do with his crush on me, at least until he reached out to Ethan and gave him the same bone-crushing embrace.

Ethan, helplessness on his face, looked to me. I winked back.

"This is huge, your being here," Jeff said, releasing Ethan and taking a step back. "Huge. We’ve never had vamps at a potluck before."

"This is quite a potluck," Ethan said, his gaze scanning the crowd.

"It’s fabulous. You two should get something to eat. Did you meet Fallon?" I nodded. "She met us at the door. She’s Gabriel’s sister?"

"His only sister. And second in line to the throne, so to speak," Jeff confirmed. "Most of the rest of them are here tonight." He pointed through the crowd at various lion-maned men, all of whom shared the Keene tawny hair. Adam glanced over and waved, dimples perked at the corners of his mouth. Two young boys, plastic cars in hand, suddenly ran between us, leaving vroom noises in their wake.

"It’s a joyful occasion," Ethan observed.

"We’re together," Jeff said. "A family, come together. That’s a good reason for celebration, even if ConPack means we might leave you." He looked at me with concern in his eyes. "I wouldn’t want to leave. I wouldn’t want to abandon you."

"I know," I comforted, then squeezed his hand. "I wouldn’t want you to leave." His eyes went wide, and a crimson blush suddenly rode his cheeks.

"In a Platonic way, Jeff. A cherished-friend kind of way."

"Whew," he said, shoulders bobbing in relief. "I actually wanted to talk to you about that." At the blush on his cheeks, I took a guess. "Jeff, is there someone else?" He offered some equivocal ums and uhs, but when his gaze slipped back into the crowd – and followed the bobbing curly hair of Fallon Keene across the room – I had my answer.

"Does she know?"

He looked back at me, and that boyish blush had turned into something much more mature. "Of course she does. I have some pretty serious game, Merit."

I leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I know you do, Jeff. Now, other than your romancing Fallon Keene, what’s on the agenda for the evening?" Jeff shrugged. "This is pretty much it. Reminiscing. Enjoying one another’s company. Gabe will say a few words later. And food, of course." He winged up his eyebrows. "Have you seen the buffet?"

"Only across the room."

Jeff clucked his tongue at Ethan. "If you’re going to do right by her, you’d better get the girl a plate." With that, he disappeared into the crowd. Ethan and I stood there quietly for a moment. "I suppose he’s my competition?"

"Then you would be correct." I slid him a glance. "Do you have a strategy to woo me better?"

He smiled slowly, wickedly. "I believe I’ve demonstrated my prowess at wooing you, Sentinel." I humphed, but inwardly grinned, the repartee unexpected, and that much more fun. Were we actually together? Was this really happening?

"Well, I suppose I could follow his advice. Are you hungry?"

"Surprisingly enough, not at the moment."

"Will miracles never cease?"

"Ha," I said, then scanned the mass of shifters. Parents carried children, plates were passed among family members, and lovers embraced. "This is not your typical Breckenridge party."

"My parents throw all kind of bashes," said a voice behind me.

We both glanced back. Nick Breckenridge – tall, dark, and handsome – stood behind us, hands in his pockets. He wore a dark button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and dark jeans. His hair was Caesar-cut, his eyes blue. He had a Roman nose and heavy brow, and he was handsome in the manner of a Spartan soldier

– stoically handsome.

At the moment, he was keeping a stoic hold on his emotions. We’d see how long that lasted. . . .

"Ponytailed Avenger?" I wondered aloud.

"Not my idea."

"I’m assuming the story wasn’t, either?"

Nick bobbed his head. "The editor originally farmed it out to someone else. I convinced them the story would be a burden to write and took it off their hands. We don’t need an enterprising reporter poking around the bar, wondering about the guys in the NAC jackets."

"It was awfully pro-Cadogan House. And pro-Sentinel."

"I may have rushed to judgment," Nick said. "I am capable of admitting when I’m wrong. But, more important, it keeps the focus on vamps – "

"And off shifters?" I finished.

He nodded.

"Understandable. I didn’t know you were working for the paper."

"Just freelance for now." Nick looked between me and Ethan. "It’s a big deal, your being here.

Gabriel’s vetting you."

"We’ve heard," Ethan said. "And we appreciate the opportunity."

They were silent for a moment, sizing each other up, I assumed, and debating whether to make peace or war.

"Speaking of Gabriel," I said, gesturing to the room, "is this a way of mending fences?"

"As you know, I was the prime mover behind some ripples he isn’t thrilled about," Nick darkly agreed,

"but I hope eventually I can regain his trust. This is a step in that direction. As for ConPack, I don’t think the Pack will vote to stay."

"It’s a distinct possibility they’ll leave," Ethan said. "And if that’s the vote that’s made, we’ll figure out a way to adapt."

I wondered if the Brecks would have to adapt, as well. From what I’d seen, they didn’t seem like typical shifters – no Harleys and no leather. Instead, they were a family with strong ties to Chicago and stronger ties to their land.

"If they vote to leave," I asked him, "would you go? Pack up Michael and Fin and Jamie and your parents and head north?"

"I can’t answer that."

I cocked my head at him. "Because it’s a secret?"

"Because I don’t know."