Twice Bitten (Chicagoland Vampires #3)(50)
Author: Chloe Neill

of vampires. Apparently part of some kind of underground, anti-fang movement." Gabriel’s concern about rumblings, then, had clearly been real. Maybe it was only an isolated incident.

Maybe it was a horrible, but random, act of violence that didn’t signal the turning of the tide for the rest of us.

But maybe it wasn’t.

"I hadn’t heard," I said quietly, "but my thoughts and prayers go out to their friends and families. That kind of violence, the kind that grows from prejudice, is indefensible." The reporters were quiet for a moment as they scribbled down my comments. "I should get going.

Thanks for the update, gentlemen."

They called out my name, trying to get in additional questions before I trotted off into the night, but I’d done my duty. I needed the run, the chance to clear my head, before heading back into Cadogan House and the drama that undoubtedly awaited me there – political or otherwise. The first mile was uncomfortable; doable, especially as a vampire, but painful in the way first miles often were. But I eventually found a rhythm, my breathing and footfalls aligned, and made a circle around the neighborhood. I skirted U of C, the wound of no longer being enrolled in my would-have-been alma mater still a bit too raw.

A breeze had stirred up by the time I made it back around to Cadogan House, and I nodded at the guards as I reentered the grounds, trying to slow my breathing, hands on my hips. I had to run faster as a vampire to get my heart rate up, and I wasn’t really sure how much good it did, but I felt better for having done it. It felt good to escape the confines of Cadogan House for a little while, to focus only on my speed and rhythm and kick. Figuring cleanliness was next on my to-do list, I went back to my room to grab a shower.

I made it as far as my door.

There was a smallish bulletin board on every dormlike room in Cadogan House. A flyer was tacked to mine – a thick bit of cardstock bearing an announcement in fancy script letters: Greet the Master!

Join us Saturday at 10:00 p.m.

to welcome Lacey Sheridan,

Master of Sheridan House.

Cocktails and Music.

Casual Attire.

Rolling my eyes, I pulled the invitation off the door, then stepped back to glance down the hall. The same black-and-white flyer was posted on every door I could see – a GOTV effort that had nothing to do with voting or democracy. I wondered if this had been his idea – a chance to show the Novitiates of Cadogan House whose team he was on?

Maybe more important, how mandatory was something like this? Was I required to make an appearance? Toast Lacey Sheridan? Bring a gift?

I crushed the card in my hand, then opened my door and stepped inside, but before I could close it again, I heard footsteps in the hallway. There were rarely vampires moving through this part of the building, so I nosily peeked through the crack . . . and got an eyeful. Ethan and Lacey were walking side by side down the corridor. Ethan wore jeans and a snug, long-sleeved T-shirt in a pale smoky green. His hair was pulled back, the Cadogan medal at his neck. The ensemble was casual enough that I assumed he’d be wearing it to the convocation. Lacey wore a gray tweed dress with a modern, folded neckline and a pair of patterned black stilettos. Every strand of blond hair was in place, and her makeup was as perfect as that of any airbrushed cover model.

"It should worry you," Lacey was saying.

"Meaning?" Ethan asked.

"Sentinel or otherwise, she’s common, Ethan. A common soldier. And I have to say, I really don’t get all the fuss."

My lips parted. Did she just call me common?

"I’m not sure that ‘common’ is a word I’d equate with Merit, Lacey. I don’t deny she’s a soldier, but I don’t think ‘common’ gives her due credit."

"Still – brawn doesn’t make a Master."

"Well, either she’ll Test one day, or she won’t."

Lacey chuckled. "You mean, either you’ll nominate her or you won’t." Lacey was the only other Master vampire Ethan had nominated in his nearly four hundred years as vampire. He hadn’t even taken Testing. Masters like Ethan and Morgan, who’d risen to the ranks when their own Masters were killed, were allowed to skip the exam. She sounded irritatingly confident that Ethan wouldn’t nominate me.

"Admittedly, she’s young," Ethan said. "She has a lot of learning to do before she’s ready – a lot of immortality to get through before she’s ready. And only time will bear it out. But I believe she’ll prove capable."

He chose that moment to glance up – and meet my eyes through the crack in the door. I made a split-second decision and pushed the door open as if I’d been on my way out.

Ethan lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "Mer – Sentinel?"

Lacey stepped behind him.

I played innocent. "Oh, hello. I was just on my way out." They both looked over my sweaty workout ensemble, and I felt like the heroine in a John Hughes movie, all awkwardness and deer-in-the-headlights eyes.

"Out?" he repeated.

Think! I silently demanded, and when genius struck, I nodded, reached behind me, and pulled up my right foot, imitating a stretch. "I just got in a run, so I was heading to the stairs to do some stretches." Ethan’s brow furrowed, worry suddenly in his eyes. Did he care if I’d heard? Would it bother him if she had hurt me?

"Are you going to introduce us?" Lacey asked.

For a split second, just enough for him to glimpse but not so long that she caught it, I tilted my head at him, letting him see the snarky question in my eyes: Yes, Ethan. Are you going to introduce us?

"Lacey Sheridan," she said, not letting Ethan make the choice. She didn’t extend a hand, but just stood there smugly, as if the mere mention of her name was supposed to knock me back a couple of pegs.

"Merit. Sentinel," I added, in case she needed the reminder that I was the one in Ethan’s House now. I bit back a smile at the twitch in her jaw.

"I was a guard, as well," she said, her gaze scanning my body as she sized me up, an opponent preparing to do battle. Were we battling for Ethan? For some kind of in-House superiority? Whatever the reason, I wasn’t going to play the game. I’d already gone all-in, and I’d lost my entire stack of chips in the bargain.

"That’s what I’ve heard," I politely said. "I’m friends with Lindsey. You two were guards together, I understand, before you took Testing."

"Yes, I know Lindsey. She’s a solid guard. Particularly good at ferreting out motivations." She offered Lindsey’s evaluation as if, rather than discussing a friend or colleague, she’d been asked for a professional reference.

I shifted my gaze back to Ethan. "I assume you heard about Alabama?" His expression clouded. "I did. Gabriel’s rumblings?" I nodded. "That was my guess."