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The applause was hesitant at first, but soon thundered through the ballroom. Morgan rose and pressed my hand to his lips, then squeezed it. He smiled quirkily. "Is it so bad?"
I lifted my brows, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of a perky answer. "To be a pawn?"
Shaking his head, he took a step forward, bent his lips to my ear. "Whatever the political ramifications, I've told you before - I want you." When he pulled back, his eyes twinkled with an amusement I appreciated, but didn't share. "Especially now that I've seen the wardrobe change. Kudos to your stylist. When can I see you again?"
I met his eyes, was slightly mollified to see that he was sincere, and slid a glance over my shoulder to the blond who stood behind me. Ethan met my gaze, but his thoughts were unfathomable, typically blank, a tiny crease between his eyebrows the only indication that he'd witnessed anything consequential in the last few minutes.
Without thought to the consequences, I let my eyes fill with the array of emotions he'd forced me to sort through. I let all of it show - anger, betrayal, hurt, and the one I knew I'd regret most of all, the frazzle-edged bit of attachment. And then, with Morgan waiting in front of me, I waited to see what, if anything, Ethan would give back.
For a long moment, he just stared at me, need laid bare in his expression.
But then his mouth tightened, and slowly, excruciatingly, he looked away.
I stiffened, turned around again, and offered Morgan a bright smile that I hoped didn't look as forced as it was.
"Call me," I dutifully said.
It took minutes for Ethan to calm down the crowd again. Once he had their attention, I moved back to the edge of the crowd, close enough to defend if necessary, but outside the inner circle. I'd had my fill of attention for the night.
"Now that we've enjoyed that . . . romantic interlude," Ethan said with a smile, capitalizing on the lighter mood, "we should return to the matter of the girls."
Static buzzed in my ear, and Luc's voice echoed through the earpiece. "Thanks for the distraction, Sentinel," he whispered. "That was damn entertaining. But everyone keep eyes and ears open - we may have defused tension, but we still have a shit storm to deal with."
I bobbed my head in acknowledgment.
"That 'matter' has gotten more complicated," Noah said, arms still folded across his chest. "Navarre House has apparently been infiltrated."
"So it would appear," Ethan agreed, nodding. "We are dealing with a killer, or killers, who have access to multiple Houses, perhaps a vendetta against them."
"But they've also got a vendetta against the Rogues," Noah said. "Let's not forget that every time a House denies involvement, they implicitly accuse us."
"Implicit or not, it's hard to accuse a group no one knows about," Scott grunted, joining the conversation. "The public only knows about us - that means the shit falls on us."
"Then maybe you shouldn't have stepped forward," muttered a Rogue who stood beside Noah.
"Not my choice," Scott pointed out.
"Nor mine," Ethan said. "But it's too late to do anything about that now. The only thing we can do now is cooperate. With the CPD, the administration, the investigations. Cooperation is the only thing that will insulate us from the public relations fallout, at least until the perpetrator of these crimes has been identified."
"And our existence?" Noah quietly asked.
The room fell silent as the Masters, Ethan and Scott, likely weighed their options.
"Until we figure out who's doing the damage," Scott finally said, "there's no point embroiling other vamps." He shrugged, glanced at Ethan. "That's my take."
Ethan nodded. "I would agree."
"Then we wait," Noah pronounced, propping hands on his hips. "And if someone has information about which vampire or vampires are responsible for this cluster f**k, I suggest they come forward. We had no intention of entering the public eye, and we won't do it now. If the Houses fall, we will not step forward. We will disperse into the human world as we have before." He glanced between Ethan and Scott, then settled his gaze on Morgan. "Clean up your Houses," he said.
With that pronouncement, Noah turned and began walking through the crowd, which opened to accommodate him and the Rogues who followed.
"And we're adjourned," Ethan muttered.
Not privy to the private meeting between Ethan, Scott, and Morgan that followed the Rogues' departure, I went home, ignored the worried glances I received on the way in, headed straight for my bedroom, and shut the door behind me. The belted sword was placed on an armchair, and I grabbed my iPod, slipped in the ear buds, lay down on the bed, and told myself I didn't care what had happened earlier in the evening.
I'd never been a very good liar.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
BEFORE THE FLOOD
The next night I woke exhausted, having spent most of the day rolling, staring, cursing, replaying the events of the night before, mentally reenacting every moment Ethan and I had shared, and wondering how, why it had been so easy for him to trade me in for his precious political capital.
While that mystery loomed, I had work to do, so I rose, showered, dressed, ate a bowl of cereal in the darkness of my kitchen, slipped on the leather jacket, and grabbed the belted sword and the box of cupcakes I hadn't had time to deliver last night, preparing to return to Cadogan House and report for duty.
I'd just locked the front door and turned to descend the stoop steps when I saw Morgan leaning against his car, arms and ankles crossed. He was in jeans again, a black shirt tucked into jeans snugged with a heavy black belt, and the ubiquitous leather jacket.
He was grinning. "Hi."
I stood on the stoop, blinked, then took the steps and went for the garage, hoping the obvious uninterest would send him running. Instead, he followed me, pausing at the threshold of the garage, a disarmingly cute grin on his face.
"You said I could call."
"Call," I repeated. "Not show up at dusk." I pulled open the garage door, walked inside, and unlocked the car door.
"You gave me permission to court you."
With what I thought was an impressive amount of control, I managed not to run him through with my sword, instead pulling open the driver's side door and sliding the katana into the backseat, then laying the box of cupcakes on the front. That done, I turned back to him.
"You put me on the spot in front of fifty vampires. I couldn't exactly say no." He opened his mouth to respond, but I didn't give him the chance. "Fifty vampires, Morgan. Fifty, including my Master, another Master, and the leader of the Rogue vampires."
