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My stomach clenched with nerves, but I forced myself to walk on, to walk through them. I wasn't sure what I expected - scorn or ridicule, maybe? Some indication that they'd seen through me, and knew that I wasn't as powerful as some seemed to believe?
Their reaction was almost more frightening. Each pair, as I walked past, bowed their heads. "Sister," they quietly said, so the word fluttered behind me as I moved through them.
Goose bumps covered my arms, my lips parting as I absorbed the weight of what they were offering me - solidarity, kinship, family. I stepped up to the covered portico, glancing behind me, and inclined my head toward them, hoping that I was worth it.
Malik was at the open door, and he held out a hand in invitation. "He puts on a show," he quietly said as I walked inside. "You'll find the women upstairs in the ballroom's anteroom." He inclined his head toward the stairs. "All the way up and to the left."
I nodded again and gripped the railing when I reached the stairway, well aware that that stairs, three-inch heels, and adrenaline-rocked thighs were a dangerous combination. At the top of the stairway, I went to the left.
The sound of feminine giggling and banter echoed through the hall, and I walked toward it, stopping at an open door. There were a dozen women in a room that had been decked out to look like a pageant staging area - big mirrors, lots of light, lots of "product." Half the vamps wore traditional Cadogan black. These Novitiates helped the other five, who were dressed in a range of glamour wear (cocktail dresses, glimmery halter tops, satin-edged tuxedo pants), prepare for the ceremony. These makeupped and coiffed women were my fellow Initiates, and I suddenly felt old and fusty in my black-and-white ensemble.
As I watched them, I realized that they were all grinning. Their eyes were bright and eager, like they were preparing for the most exciting event of their lives. These were women, I thought, who'd been invited to join the House. Who'd chosen - consciously - to forgo the human world for night and blood and the political intrigue of vampires.
I felt a tight pang of jealousy. What would that have been like, to walk into Cadogan House and ask for membership, or to view the Commendation as the celebration of a profound achievement? It really was Vampire Rush for these women, former humans who believed themselves fortunate to have made the cut.
"They're like lions preparing to jump the gazelle."
I smiled in spite of my nerves, turning to find a smiling blond vamp behind me. She wore the requisite black, her long, straight hair pulled into a tidy ponytail at her nape.
"And Ethan's the gazelle?"
"Oh, yeah." She inclined her head toward the hoard - now atwitter over some new shade of M.A.C. lipstick - and shook her head. "Not that they have a chance. He doesn't touch the new kids. But I don't think I'll tell them that." Her smile widened, and I decided not to think too closely about the fact that I was a new kid, and he'd certainly touched me.
"I think I'll let them stew," she decided. "It gives the older kids something to enjoy later on."
"The victory of defeat?"
"Exactly." She stuck out a hand. "Lindsey. And you're Merit."
I nodded cautiously and accepted her hand, wondering what other information she'd gleaned about me or, since it seemed to be popular vampire gossip, my paternity.
"Nothing to fear from me," she assured, without my having raised the issue.
When my eyes widened, she offered, "I'm empathic. You got really tense, and I had this sense that it was about something deep - familial maybe. But I could give a shit who your parents are. 'Sides, my dad was the pork king of Dubuque. So I know high living, chica."
I laughed aloud, drawing the attention of the women at the mirror, who all turned to look at me. And to appraise me. I got a series of up-and-down looks and a couple of carefully arched brows before they turned back to the mirror and set about perfecting their hair and makeup. I felt like an outsider - familiar enough with Ethan and the House to have lost that "new kid" glow, but definitely not yet one of the "older kids," whom I watched move around the newcomers with confident efficiency, offering assistance, spraying hair, calming nerves.
Lindsey suddenly clapped her hands together. "Ladies, we're ready. If you'll follow me, please?" She went for the door. My stomach in knots, I swallowed thickly and fell in line behind the other girls.
We walked back down the hallway, but this time passed the stairs. We moved, instead, toward a group of men who stood in a tense line outside a set of expansive double doors. There were six of them, all in trendy, well-cut suits, and they turned as we approached, smiling appreciatively. They were the rest of the new kids, the six male vampires who, in a matter of minutes, would become full-fledged members of Cadogan House.
We joined the line behind the guys, while the vampires who'd accompanied us formed a line beside us. I was the last vampire in line; Lindsey took the spot beside me.
We stood quietly for a little while, the twelve of us nervously adjusting clothing and smoothing hair, shuffling our feet as we waited for the doors to open, waited to swear our loyalty and allegiance to the man who'd hold the responsibility of ensuring our health, our well-being, our safety. I felt a momentary twang of sympathy for the responsibility he'd taken on, but I fought the feeling. I had enough to worry about.
With a soft whoosh, the doors were pulled open, revealing a ballroom that was swathed in light and thrumming with the beat of bass-heavy ambient music.
My stomach churned, and I put a hand on my abdomen to still the twitching.
"You'll be fine," Lindsey whispered. "I'll escort you in. And since you're last, you just have to do what the others do. Follow their lead."
I nodded, keeping my eyes on the short, dark hair of the woman in front of me. The line began to move, and we slowly proceeded into the space, in step with the vampires beside us.
Gigantic framed mirrors hung from both sides of the ballroom, swaths of billowy white fabric draped above them. The floor was gleaming oak, the walls a pale shade of gold. Chandeliers holding hundreds of candles gleamed, reflecting a golden glow throughout the space.
The vampires, all in black, were an odd foil against the decor. They stood in two large, tidy columns like a squadron at attention, a narrow aisle between them. We walked between the columns, Lindsey and I bringing up the rear.
At the front of the room, on a raised platform, stood Ethan, flanked by Malik and Amber, Luc standing behind. Ethan looked piratical. He was dressed in black, this time a snug long-sleeved T-shirt that showed off every plane and curve of his torso, and black flat- front slacks. His feet were tucked into squarish black shoes, his shoulder-length blond hair tucked neatly behind his ears. His legs were spread, like he was bracing his body against the sway of the ocean, arms folded across his chest as he watched us move closer, every bit the captain surveying his crew. He also looked as confident as I'd ever seen him - his shoulders square, his jaw set, his emerald eyes glowing with lambent power.
