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"How long has Malik been Second?" I asked Lindsey.
She swallowed bacon, then lifted her gaze to where he stood in line, chatting with a vampire I didn't know. " Malik? Right after the House was moved to Chicago. '83."
That's 1883, not 1983, for those of you following along at home.
"Ethan picked Chicago, you know. Once Peter Cadogan died, he wanted the House out of Wales, out of Europe. Malik lived in Chicago. He was an orphan."
"He lost his parents?" I asked. "How awful."
"Wrong kind of orphan. He was a Rogue. Houseless. A vampire orphan. His Master wasn't strong enough to keep her House together, and she was ix- nayedby a rival."
Lindsey held her fist to her chest, mimicking a staking. "Then he and Ethan met, and the rest is history."
"Do you know him? Well, I mean?"
" Malik? Sure. Malik's great." Lindsey checked her watch, then finished a glass of water before rising and picking up her tray. "So, there's three hundred and nineteen other vampires affiliated with Cadogan House. Suggestion?"
I looked up at her, nodded.
"Consider the possibility that they'd like to get to know you if you gave them a chance."
"That's why I'm here," I said, and followed her out.
Chapter Six
THE RETURN OF THE PRINCE
I woke bright and early - or maybe more accurately, dark and late - the next night. It was my turn on guard duty, patrolling the blocks-wide grounds around Cadogan House, keeping an eye out for breaches of the ten-foot-high wrought-iron fence that kept intruders out and vampires in.
In a city of supernatural weirdos, one had to stay alert.
I got up and showered in the tiny bathroom, completed the few girly tasks in my repertoire, then climbed into my Cadogan suit, complete with belted katana and my own Cadogan medal, given to me by Ethan during my Commendation into the House. I brushed my long, dark hair until it shone, pulled it into a high ponytail and combed through my bangs. Vampirism added a new glow to my complexion, so I added only a little blush and lip gloss for shine.
Once I was prettied up and well armed, I headed for my door, then glanced down as colors caught my eye.
Mail lay in a pile in front of the door. Figuring it had been delivered while I was in the shower, I leaned down to pick up a J.Crew catalog forwarded from Mallory's and an envelope of thick linen paper. The stock was heavy and nubby, and undoubtedly expensive. I slipped open the flap and peeked inside. It was the promised invite to the Brecks', probably messengered by my mom while the sun was still above the horizon.
I guessed the Breckenridge gala was a done deal, unfortunately. I dropped the catalog on the bed, pocketed the invite, and was about to head downstairs when my cell phone rang. I slipped it from my pocket, then glanced at the screen. Morgan.
"Good evening," he said, when I flipped open the phone.
Cell at my ear, I headed into the hallway, then closed the door behind me. "Good evening back," I replied. "What's new in Navarre House?"
"In Navarre, not much yet. Still early. We try not to start the dramatics until closer to midnight."
"I see," I said with a chuckle, as I took the hallway to the main stairs.
"The thing is, I'm not actually at Navarre House. I took a field trip south. I'm actually a little more in the vicinity of Cadogan House."
I stopped at the staircase, hand on the railing. "How much in the vicinity of Cadogan House?"
"Come outside," he said, voice playful. Invitational. Curiosity piqued, I closed the phone and slipped it into my pocket, then took the stairs at a trot. The first floor was still quiet, vamps not quite up from their midday naps. I headed for the front door, then opened it and stepped outside onto the small stone portico.
He stood on the sidewalk, halfway between the front door and the gate. He was dressed in his typical style - runway rebel. Designer jeans, square-toed shoes, a short-sleeved T-shirt that hugged his lean form, and a wide leather watch on his left wrist.
I always seemed to forget the soul-stealing grin and those baleful bedroom eyes when I was away from Morgan, my mind usually preoccupied with other vampire antics. My heart tripped at the remembrance of exactly how pretty he was.
And in his hand, a vase of flowers. The vase was slender, a milky-colored glass. The flowers were puffs of color, peonies or ranunculus or some other explosion of petals on slender green stems. They were beautiful. And a little unexpected.
"Hi," he said when I went to him, smiling slyly. "I'm not sure I've seen you in your Cadogan black." He tugged at the lapel of my coat, then wet his lips in obvious appreciation. "You look very... official."
I rolled my eyes at the flirtation, but could feel the heat rise on my cheeks. "Thank you,"
I said, then bobbed my head toward the flowers. "I assume those aren't for Ethan?"
"You would be correct. I know I didn't call, and I have to get going - I've got a meeting - but wanted to bring you something." He looked down at them, his grin a bit sheepish. A little goofy. A little heartrending. "I decided you needed a housewarming gift."
I grinned back at him. "You mean other than the life-sized poster of you that you already gave me?"
"Well, not that that wasn't a fantastic present, but I had something a little more...feminine in mind." With that, he handed over the vase, then leaned in and pressed his lips to my cheek. "Welcome to the life of vampires, Merit." When he leaned back again, the smile on his face made it clear he meant the welcome sincerely. Morgan was a vampire's vampire, a believer. By moving into the House, I'd made a new commitment to the fraternal order of vampires, and that obviously meant something to him.
"Thank you," I said, the vase warm beneath my fingers, the heat of his touch - and the slightest tingle of magic - still lingering there.
He gazed at me for a moment, heartfelt emotion in his eyes, then shook it off as his cell phone rang. He pulled it from his jeans pocket, then glanced at the screen. "Gotta take this," he said, "and gotta run." He leaned forward and - ever so softly - pressed his lips to mine. "Goodbye, Merit," he said, then turned and trotted back down the sidewalk and disappeared through the gate.
I stood there for a moment, playing emotional catch-up. He drove down from Navarre House just to surprise me with flowers. Flowers. And not, It's-Valentine's-Day-and-I-feel-obligated flowers. These were just-because flowers.
I had to give him props - the boy was good.
Interestingly, as Morgan walked out, Kelley walked in in full Cadogan attire, katana in one hand, a slender clutch purse in the other. It was interesting because Kelley, like the rest of the guards, lived in Cadogan House. Since the sun had fallen beneath the horizon only an hour ago, I had to wonder where - or with whom - she'd spent the daylight hours.
