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"Not by me."
Ethan pulled at the edges of his shirt collar, then smoothed the lapels of his jacket. Regaining his composure, I thought, maybe because he'd wanted something from me, as well. The silvering of his eyes demonstrated that, however much he protested.
"First Hunger can arise suddenly," Ethan said. "There's no need to apologize."
I arched a brow at him. "I wasn't going to apologize. If it wasn't for you, there'd be no thirst."
"Don't forget your place, Initiate."
"As if you'd let me."
"Someone has to remind you," Ethan said, stepping closer so that the cuffs of his trousers topped my sneakers. "You promised me submission. You agreed that your rebellious behavior was done. You agreed not to challenge me again. And yet you're poised to bring the walls of Cadogan House down around us."
"Master or not," I said, glaring up at him, "take it back, or I'll challenge you again." I'd been betrayed enough times in my life to know the value of honor and honesty, and tried to live by that code. "I have given you no reason to doubt my loyalty, which is a fairly tremendous thing given how you changed me."
His nostrils flared, but he didn't challenge the statement. "Merit, so help me, if you support Tate's office over my House. . . ."
I looked at him blankly. "Tate? Mayor Tate? I don't even know what that means, supporting his office. Why would I be supporting his office?"
"The Ombud is a creation of the Mayor."
I still missed his point. "I understand that. But why would the mayor care what I do? Why would he care if one of his employees brings a grandkid to work?"
Ethan gazed down at me. "Because even if you're estranged from your father, he's still Joshua Merit, and you're still his daughter. On top of that, you're the granddaughter of one of the most influential men in the city. And, in case we needed additional fuel, you're clearly stronger than average." He flicked a hand in the direction of the kitchen. "Even they recognize that."
Ethan stuffed his hands into his pockets and moved away, turning to look at a row of books on the shelf next to the front door. "Tate's not trustworthy," he said. "He knows about us - has known about us - and even though his appointment of your grandfather seems well-intentioned, the man's secretive. We understand that he knows about Rogue vampires, but he hasn't released that information to the public. That raises questions - is he trying to avoid more public panic, or is the information a bargaining chip he'll use against us later on? And, he won't speak to the heads of the Houses; instead, he works through the Ombud's office. As helpful as he may be" - he turned back - "as well-intentioned as he may be, your grandfather still works for Tate. Tate controls the purse and the policy direction. That means he pulls the strings."
"My grandfather is his own man."
Ethan stepped back from the bookshelf, crossed his arms, and looked at me. A line creased his forehead. "Think about it, Merit: Vampires announced their existence here, in Chicago. We're the first Houses in the U.S. to do so. Tate stands first among Mayors in that regard - first in terms of setting supernatural policy, in terms of making alliances with the Houses, maintaining security. A man can use that power, that position. But whatever he has planned - and rest assured the man has plans, probably has had them as long as he's known about us - he's not being forthright. I can't afford for you to become part of his plans, or for my House to be caught in the eddies. So until you've learned enough to act appropriately, to use discretion when discussing our concerns, you'll stay away from the Ombud's office."
I wouldn't stay away, and he probably knew that, but there was no sense in belaboring the argument. Instead, I cocked my head at him. "How did you know I went to his office?"
"I have my sources."
I didn't doubt it. But while I wondered which source he'd tapped - Catcher, Jeff, the undercover vamp who serviced the Ombud's office, or someone else assigned to watch me - I knew better than to ask. He'd never tell me.
But someone had given him information about my activities, someone who hadn't been close enough to know exactly why I was there. That was worth passing along.
"Some free advice," I said. "The person who's giving you information wasn't inside the building. If they had been, they'd have known why I was there, what was discussed.
And more important, what wasn't discussed. They made deductions and managed to convince you those deductions were fact. They're playing you, Sullivan, or at least trying to puff up sparse information to increase their own cachet."
For a moment, Ethan didn't speak. He just looked at me, like he was seeing me for the first time, had suddenly realized that I was more than his newest rebellious underling, more than the daughter of a financial mogul.
"That's a nice analysis."
I shrugged. "I was in the room. I know what went on. She, or he, doesn't. And back to the point, he's my grandfather. Other than Mallory, he's all I've got. He's my only real family tie. I can't cut that tie. I won't, even if you think it's a challenge. Even if you think it's rebellious and goes against your sovereign authority."
"You have other ties now, Initiate. Cadogan House. Me. You're my vampire now. Don't forget that."
I think he meant it as a compliment, but the tone was still too possessive for my taste. "Whatever happened six days ago, I belong to no one but myself, Sullivan, and least of all you."
"You are what I made you."
"I make myself."
Ethan took a step forward, then another, until I was stepping away to avoid him, until he'd backed me against the living room wall, until I felt the cold slickness of painted plaster behind me.
I was caught.
Ethan braced his hands against the wall, one on each side of my head, boxing me in, and stared down at me. "Do you want disciplining, Initiate?"
I stared at him, a flame igniting in my core. "Not especially." Liar.
His eyes searched mine. "Then why do you persist in taunting me?"
The eye contact felt too intimate, so I turned my head away and tried to swallow down the reluctant arousal, uncomfortably aware that I couldn't blame my actions, my interest, on the vampire lurking inside me. On the genetic change. She and I were one and the same - same mind, same genetics, same unwanted, undeniable, attraction to Ethan Sullivan.
But I reached out for that whisper of denial, wrapped hands around it, and held it like a life preserver. In that second, I dreamed of running away, of beginning again with a new name, in a new city, where I didn't long to clench fingers into his hair and push my mouth against his until he capitulated and took me against the cold white wall, pushed his body into mine to alleviate the need, to warm the chill.
