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"The fight's not worth it," Catcher whispered. "Not for this." He gently tugged me back in the direction of the door. "Let's get out of here."
Celina looked at me again, and for a moment we were the only two vampires in the room. Whatever power she had - and it was far beyond anything I'd yet felt - crept toward me in slow amoebic tendrils. The length of a heartbeat, and I was wrapped inside it, enveloped by it. At first, I wasn't sure what she was trying to do - the impulse wasn't physically threatening, but it was aggressive. I didn't think she could injure me, but she tried to slink inside me, looking for weaknesses, feeling out my strengths. She was sizing me up, here in front of her Second and her patrons, in front of Catcher and Mallory. She was assessing me, testing me, waiting for me to cry out, to step back, to fall beneath that barrage of power.
I knew I wasn't strong enough to put up a wall against it, but neither would I give in, beg her to stop, cry uncle. And even if I had been strong enough, I didn't know how to fight it, how to battle against it. So I did the only thing I could think of - absolutely nothing. I blanked my mind, thinking that if I didn't fight her, if I put up no walls, it would slip and flow around me. That was easier said than done - I had to fight not to hold my breath as the air thickened, as it fairly pulsed with energy.
But I managed to keep my thoughts clear, stared back into her blue eyes, and let a corner of my mouth curve up.
Her eyes flashed silver.
In vampire terms, she blinked.
"Celina."
Morgan's voice broke the spell. I saw her concentration waver, watched her body relax as the magic dissipated around us. She took a breath and slid her gaze to Morgan, schooling her features into haughty impermeability. "You've competition, pet, from Ethan's little plaything."
I nearly growled, and nearly jumped forward to get to her (although God only knows what I would have done), but Catcher's fingers, still around my arm, tightened.
"Merit," Catcher softly said, "let it go."
"Take the advice, little toy," Celina told me.
I wanted to snark back, but that would give her what she wanted. I decided I wasn't going to throw back anger or snarky words. No - this was my chance to play the better vampire. To play the cool, calm, collected girl. To play the Initiate who still remembered what it was to be human.
I kept my gaze on Celina, and copied a move I'd seen Ethan make: I slid my hands into the pockets of my jeans, kept my posture businesslike, and let my voice go a little deeper, a little smokier. "Not a toy, Celina. But rest assured - I know exactly what I am." That the words fairly mimicked Ethan's didn't occur to me until much later.
"Good girl," Catcher whispered, and tugged my arm, leading me away. I followed with what little pride I had left, and managed not to throw back a glare at the brown-haired boy who'd sold me out to his Master.
I kept quiet until we were a block from the club, and Catcher, apparently having deemed us a safe enough distance away, offered, "Okay. Let her loose."
And I did. "I cannot believe people would act that way! It's the twenty-first century, for God's sake. How is it okay to discriminate? And what the hell was with Celina testing me?" I turned to Catcher, my eyes probably wild, and grabbed his arm. "Did you feel that? What she did?"
"You'd have to be completely oblivious not to feel it," Mallory put in. "The woman's a piece of work."
"I thought you said vampires didn't have magic?" I asked him. "What the hell was that?"
Catcher shook his head. "Vamps can't do magic. They can't perform it. They can't bend and shape it. But you're still born of that magic, that power, whether you call vampirism genetic or not. You can sense it. Test it. And vamps can always do what vamps do best - manipulate." He pulled the Red flyer from his pocket again.
"They baited us," I realized. "They identified our cars, planted the fliers."
Catcher nodded and replaced the paper again. "She wanted a look."
"At me?"
"I don't know," he said, eyes on Mallory. "Maybe. Maybe not."
"And then there's Bedroom Eyes," I said. "I can't believe I fell for that pickup, actually danced with him. Do you think it was all a ploy?"
Catcher sighed, linked hands above his head, and gazed back at Red. "I don't know, Merit. Do you think he was plotting?"
He'd seemed sincere. Genuine. But who could tell? "I don't know," I decided. "But you know what the moral of this story is?"
We'd reached the Volvo, and I paused in the process of unlocking the doors, waiting to ensure I had their attention. When they both looked at me, I offered, "Never trust a vampire. Ever."
I was about to squeeze into the front seat when I noticed that the Hummer parked in front of my car bore a vanity plate that read "NVRRE." Grinning impishly, I darted toward it and kicked one oversized tire. When the car's alarm began chirping wildly, I scrambled into my car, started it, and hit the gas.
It didn't do much to the Hummer, but the catharsis was nice.
When we were on our way and blocks from the club, I met Catcher's gaze in the rearview mirror.
"All that drama because we drink?"
"In part," Catcher said. "The flyer got you into the club for a look; drinking got you kicked out. It's a convenient way for Celina to survey the city, have folks come unwittingly to her door."
"Unwittingly to her web," Mallory muttered, and I nodded. It was pointless, I suppose, to rue the House I'd been born into, but what a way to enter the world of vampires. Four days out of the change and a chunk of Chicago's population decided they didn't like me because of my affiliation. Because of what others did. It stank of human prejudice.
Catcher stretched out in the backseat. "If it makes you feel any better, both of them will get what's coming to them."
I tapped fingers against the steering wheel as I drove, then met his gaze again. "Meaning what, exactly?"
He shrugged and averted his gaze, looking out the side window. Apparently he was psychic, too, our former fourth-grade sorcerer.
"Catch, did you know this was going to happen? Did you know it was a Navarre bar?"
Catch? I looked over at Mallory, surprised that they'd already progressed to nicknames. Apparently I'd missed some serious bonding on the dance floor. But her expression showed nothing.
"Yes, Catch," I parroted, "did you set this up?"
"I wanted to check out the club," he said. "I knew it was a Navarre club, but it hadn't occurred to me that we'd been baited. I certainly didn't intend for us to get thrown out, to become actors in Celina's morality play, although I suppose it shouldn't surprise me. Vampires," he said with a tired sigh, "are f**king exhausting."
