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There was a digital beep. I closed my eyes and faked the nonchalant self-confidence that Ethan, Luc, and I had discussed. "Hello, it's Merit. I wanted to talk to you both. In short, now that things have... changed, now that I've changed, I think it's a good idea that I rebuild some relationships." I cringed, and continued. "That I start spending time with the right kinds of people - "
I was interrupted by a clicking sound - the sound of a phone receiver being picked up. I silently cursed. I'd been so close.
"Well, darling," my mother said, apparently awake regardless of the time, "your call couldn't be more timely. The Breckenridges are hosting an event Friday night - cocktails for the Harvest Coalition - in Loring Park." The Breckenridge estate was located in Loring Park, a suburb in the Illinois countryside. "I won't be there," she continued. "I have an auxiliary meeting. But your father will. And, of course, the Breckenridges. You should come, say hello to the Breck boys."
The Harvest Coalition was a Chicago food bank. And while the cause was obviously laudable, I wasn't thrilled about being in the same house with my father. On the other hand, my first gala out the door and I was headed right into the Breckenridges' backyard. Or maybe more accurately, right into the Breckenridge henhouse, a vampire in tow. God forgive me.
"That sounds great, Mom."
"Wonderful. Black tie, cocktails at eight o'clock," she said, repeating the stats of the rich and famous. "I'll have Pennebaker " - that was my parents' fusty butler - "call the Breckenridges and messenger over an invitation. You're still living with that Carmichael girl, I take it?"
If only. "Actually, Mom, I moved into Cadogan House today. With the rest of the vampires," I added, in case that wasn't obvious.
"Well," my mother said, intrigue in her voice. "Isn't that quite the development? I'll be sure to pass that along to your father." I had no doubt she would, my father being a dealer of information - and the connections that this specific information would signal.
"Thank you, Mom."
"Of course, dear."
That's when I had a brainstorm. I might not have my grandfather's secret source, but I had a Meredith Merit. "Mom, one thing before you go. I hear Jamie's working now.
Maybe at a newspaper?"
"Newspaper, newspaper," she absently repeated. "No, I don't recall anything about a newspaper. Everyone knows Nick is the journalist in the Breck family, anyway. Unless you've heard something different?" Her voice had dropped an octave; she'd moved directly into gossip mode and was waiting for me to pass along some juicy detail. But my job was to investigate, not fan the flames.
"Nope," I said. "Just thought I remembered hearing something."
"Oh, well. God willing, he'll find a place of his own at some point. Something to keep him occupied."
She paused, then asked, a little too loudly, "What, dear?" Silence again, then, "Darling, your father's calling me. I'll arrange for an invitation. You enjoy your Cadogan House."
"Sure, Mom. Thanks."
I pressed the END CALL button and snapped the phone shut in my palm.
"Damn," I muttered. I'd made headway on Ethan's assignment, and I'd gotten us an in at the Breckenridge estate. My ego swollen by my minor suggest, however questionable (I had just signed to hang out with my father), I decided to attend to my remaining House business for the evening - filling Ethan in on the phone call.
I rebelted my katana, then made my way down to his office. When I reached the first floor, I passed Malik, Ethan's vice president, as he walked away from Ethan's office.
Malik's expression was grave, and he made no move to acknowledge me as we passed.
That did not bode well.
This time, Ethan's door was open. That was strange, but worse was the fact that he stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed, gaze on the floor, that line of worry between his eyes. And he'd changed clothes, too - his tidy black suit jacket was gone.
He was in shirtsleeves, no tie, only the glint of the gold Cadogan medal around his neck breaking the expanse of pristine white shirt that hugged his torso. He'd even changed his hair; it was now pulled back into a short ponytail at the nape of his neck. The kind of move a girl might make when she had to get down to business.
My stomach knotted uncomfortably. In the time that I'd gone up to my room and returned to the first floor again, something had happened.
I rapped my knuckles against the threshold.
Ethan glanced up. "I was about to page you," he said. "Come in and shut the door."
I did as ordered, then figured I might as well get the good news out first. "I called my mother. There's a charity cocktail thing at the Breckenridge estate Friday night. She's going to messenger over an invitation."
Ethan lifted approving brows. "Well done. Two birds with one stone, and all that."
"FYI, she also said she hasn't heard about Jamie being involved in any kind of journalism work. I didn't tell her anything," I added, when Ethan's gaze snapped up. "I just asked a very vague question. If he was working, especially in Nick's field, she'd have heard. Mrs. Breck would have been thrilled. She wouldn't have kept that kind of thing from my mom."
He paused, looking perplexed. "Hmm. Well, be that as it may," he said, walking around his desk and taking a seat, "given the nature of the damage a story could cause, we're going to err on the side of caution on this one. There's undoubtedly some kernel of truth to the information we've received, specific as it is." He gazed down at his desktop for a moment before lifting clouded eyes to me. "Have a seat, Merit."
There was concern in his tone. My heart thumped disconcertingly, but I did as directed, holding my katana aside and slipping into one of the chairs in front of Ethan's desk.
"The Presidium has released Celina."
"Oh, my God." I knew my eyes had gone silver, maybe with anger, maybe with fear, maybe with the adrenaline that was beginning to rush my limbs. "How - when? When did this happen?"
"Three days ago. Darius just called. I spoke briefly with Luc; he'll update the dailies and inform RDI and the other Chicago Houses." In Cadogan speak, that meant Luc would update our security reports, inform the mercenary fairies (yup - fairies) who worked for RDI, the company that oversaw security at the House during daylight hours and who stood guard at the front gate, and call Morgan and Scott Grey.
"He just called?" I repeated. "You only talked to him a few hours ago. He didn't mention then that they were releasing crazy into the world?"
