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Halfway to the door, he stopped. "Thank you."
"For?"
"Because of your willingness to go home, and although we seem to have additional questions regarding Nicholas' involvement, we've made some inroads, and we know more now than we did before." He cleared his throat. "You did good today."
I grinned at him. "You like me. You really, really like me!"
"Don't overplay your hand, Sentinel."
I pulled open the basement door and waved him ahead with a hand. "Age before beauty."
Ethan hmphed, but I caught a glimpse of a smile. "Funny."
When I turned to walk to the Ops Room, figuring I should do my duty, check in, and let Luc know that I'd managed to keep Ethan alive during our jaunt off campus, Ethan stopped me with an arm.
"Where are you going?"
I arched an eyebrow at him. "I'm not up for an after party if that's what you're offering."
At his flat stare, I explained. "I need to check my folder in the Ops Room."
He dropped my arm, then slipped his hands into his pockets. "You aren't excused yet," he said. "I'll wait."
Frowning, I turned and walked to the closed Ops Room doors. I had no idea what he was up to, and that wasn't the kind of mystery I enjoyed.
When I opened the door and slipped inside, I was greeted by catcalls that would have made a construction worker proud.
Juliet swiveled around in her chair to get a look, then winked at me. "Looking good, Sentinel."
"She's right," Lindsey said from her own station. "You clean up surprisingly well."
I rolled my eyes, but pinched the hem of my skirt and did a little curtsy, then plucked my folder from its hanger on the wall. There was a single piece of paper inside, a printout of a memo that Peter had e-mailed to Luc. The memo contained the names of the paparazzi who'd been assigned to cover Cadogan House, and the papers, Web sites, and magazines they pimped for.
I lifted my gaze, found Peter looking at me curiously. "That was quick work," I said, waving the paper at him.
"You'd be amazed what fangs will get you," he said. He gave me a blank look, then turned back to his computer, fingers flying across the keyboard.
He was a strange one.
"I assume your Liege and mine made it through the evening?" Luc asked.
"Healthy and hale," said a voice behind me. I glanced back. Ethan stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
"Shall we?" he asked.
I silently cursed the question, knowing exactly what the rest of the guards were going to think about it. Namely, they would imagine much more lascivious things on his agenda.
His attraction to me notwithstanding, I knew better. I was a tool in Ethan's vampire toolbox, a pass card to be pulled out when he needed access.
"Sure," I said, after giving Lindsey a warning look. Her lips were pinched together, as if she was only just managing not to snark.
I slipped my folder back into its slot and, memo in hand, followed Ethan into the hallway, then up to the first floor. He took the hallway to the main staircase, then made the corner and took the stairs to the second floor. He paused in front of the doors that I knew led to the library, but hadn't yet had time to explore.
I stepped beside him. He slid me a glance. "You've not been inside?"
I shook my head.
He seemed gratified by my answer, an oddly satisfied smile on his face, and gripped the door handles with both hands. He twisted, pushed, and opened the doors. "Sentinel, your library."
Chapter Ten
YOU CAN TELL A LOT BY THE SIZE OF A MAN'S LIBRARY
It was astonishing.
My mouth open in shock, I walked inside and turned in a slow circle to take it all in. The library was square, rising through the second and third floors. Three high-arched windows illuminated the room. An intricate railing of crimson wrought iron bounded the upper floor, which was accessible by a spiral staircase of the same crimson metal.
Tables topped by brass lamps with green shades filled in the middle.
The walls - floor to ceiling - were lined in books. Big and small, leather-bound and paperback, all of them divided into sections - history, reference, vampire physiology, even a small group of fiction titles.
"Oh. My. God."
Ethan chuckled beside me. "And now we're even for the changing-you-without-consent issue."
I would have agreed to anything just to touch them, so I threw out an absent "Sure," walked to one of the shelves, and brushed my fingertips over the spines. The section was devoted to Western classics. Doyle was stacked between Dickens and Dumas, Carroll above and Eliot below.
I pulled a navy leather copy of Bleak House from its shelf. I opened the spine, paged past the vellum frontispiece, and checked the first rag-cut page. The print was tiny and pressed so deeply into the paper that you could feel the indentation of the letters. I whimpered happily, then closed the book again and slid it home.
"You're in thrall of the books," Ethan said, chuckling. "Had I known you'd be so easy to assuage, I'd have brought you to the library weeks ago."
I made a sound of agreement and pulled out a slim volume of Emily Dickinson's poetry.
I thumbed through the pages until I found the poem I wanted, then read aloud, "I died for beauty, but was scarce adjusted in the tomb, when one who died for truth was lain in an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed? 'For beauty,' I replied. 'And I for truth - the two are one. We brethren are.' "
Gently, I closed the cover of the book and returned it home, then looked over at Ethan, who stood beside me, his expression thoughtful. "Did you die for beauty or truth?"
"I was a soldier," he said.
That surprised me, and didn't. The thought of Ethan warring - rather than politicking in a back room - surprised me. The thought of Ethan in the midst of war did not.
"Where?" I quietly asked him.
He paused in weighty silence, tension clear in the tilt of his chin, then gave me an obviously feigned light smile. "Sweden. A long time ago."
He'd been a vampire for 394 years; I did the historical math. "Thirty Years' War?"
He nodded. "Very good. I was seventeen when I fought for the first time. I made it to thirty before I was changed."
"You were changed in battle?"
Another nod, no elaboration. I took the hint. "I suppose I was changed in battle, in a manner of speaking."
Ethan pulled a book from the shelf before him and absently flipped through it. "You're referring to Celina's battle to control the Houses?"
"Such as it is." I leaned back against the bookshelves, arms crossed. "What do you think she ultimately wants, Ethan? Vampires controlling the world?"
