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He barked out a laugh. "Touche, Sentinel."
I grinned at him, then plucked a piece of cheese from the tray and popped it in my mouth. It was rich and earthy, but it had that weird aftertaste that fancy cheese always seemed to have. "So," I began, after I'd nabbed a couple more chunks for good measure, "why's Gabriel coming to the House?"
"You'll recall he wanted to speak about security arrangements for the convocation?" I nodded. Gabriel had mentioned it when he'd dropped by a week ago.
"As it turns out, you were the security arrangement." I blanched. "I'm the security arrangement? What does that mean?" Ethan took another drink before recapping the bottle. "It means, Sentinel, that we're throwing you to the wolves."
CHAPTER THREE
HIDE-AND-SEEK
"I've loaned you to Gabriel," he added by way of explanation.
I could only blink. "I'm sorry; it sounded like you said you've loaned me to Gabriel?"
"Well, well," said a voice at the threshold. "Aren't I lucky, getting a loaner Sentinel?" Without so much as a sound, Gabriel Keene, Apex of the North American Central Pack of shape-shifters, had made his way into Ethan's apartments. He stood in the doorway, hands still on the knobs, light from the hallway spilling around him into the room.
Gabe walked inside, then shut the doors behind him. "Your second in command ushered me up. I told him no introductions were necessary."
"Gabriel," Ethan said, extending a hand and walking toward him. Gabriel shook it, his heavy black boots clunking on the hardwood floors as he moved. They were an interesting contrast: Ethan - blond, rangy, and dressed in a crisp shirt and suit pants; Gabriel - tousled brown hair, broad shouldered, and dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt. Ethan was no slouch, but Gabriel was just so masculine, and all that shifter energy practically sucked the air from the room. I considered his very pregnant wife, Tonya, a very lucky girl.
When he and Ethan had finished their manly handshaking, Gabriel looked over at me. "What's the going rate for a loaner Sentinel these days?"
"Patience," said Luc and Ethan at the same time.
A hint of a smile crossed Gabriel's face. I rolled my eyes.
"You remember Luc, Captain of my Guards?" Ethan said, gesturing toward Luc. "And Merit, of course?"
Gabriel nodded at each of us in turn.
"Help yourself to the food," Ethan said, extending an arm toward the cart.
Gabriel shook his head, then gestured toward one of Ethan's tailored sofas. "Can I sit?" Ethan nodded graciously, then joined Gabriel at the seating area. Luc followed. I grabbed a cracker and did the same, but sat cross-legged on the floor.
"Just finished training," I told Gabriel with an apologetic smile, then pointed at the empty Louis XIV chair beside Luc's. "I'd prefer not getting a lecture about ruining the antiques."
"My Sentinel is currently high on a mix of cheese and carbohydrates," Ethan chummily told Gabriel.
"Respectfully, I'd ignore her if I were you."
"I'll leave that job to you. Perhaps we should get to the point?"
"Feel free."
Gabriel frowned, then crossed his right ankle over his left knee. "It might be best if I started at the beginning. Shifters are an independent bunch. I don't mean that we live a solitary existence - quite the opposite. We are organized into Packs, after all. But we tend to live in the margins of human society.
Vamps tend to think of us as a tent and Jeep crew, a hog and Harley crew, a rock 'n' roll and straight Jack Daniel's crew."
Although I'd heard that description, the only shifters I knew other than Gabe - Jeff Christopher, a shifter/computer genius and one of my grandfather's employees, and Chicago's Breckenridge family, who were as rich and well-heeled as they came - were exactly the opposite. On the other hand, the Brecks had tried to blackmail us. . . .
Gabriel shrugged, and his voice softened a bit. "That description isn't entirely untrue. And that means that from a temperament standpoint, Pack members are generally uninterested in humans, in other sups.
They aren't interested in strategy."
"What are they interested in?" Luc asked.
"Family," Gabriel said. "Their families, their children, the unity of the Packs. They're loyal, and to a one, they'll follow as the Pack decides. But that attitude can make them, let's say, insular." Ethan wet his lips, as if preparing to broach an uncomfortable subject. "There have been rumblings about the Pack's returning home to Aurora."
Aurora was the ancestral home Ethan had mentioned earlier, a remote town in the wilds of northern Alaska. From what I understood, it was where shifters congregated when they needed to get away from human machinations. It was also a place to hide out - to disappear to when things got rowdy . . . or when vampires got into trouble. It was their collective retreat when supernatural life got too sticky.
I'd been a vampire for less than three months. The drama was occasionally overwhelming, so I understood the urge to retreat. But I wasn't thrilled about the idea of being left behind.
To his credit, Gabriel managed not to squirm under Ethan's scrutinizing stare. But a low wash of magic filled the room, like a silent growl, unpleasantly acerbic. I fought the urge to roll my shoulders against the uncomfortable tingle. I also opened the telepathic connection between Ethan and me to offer up a silent warning.
He's getting angry, I told him. Tread carefully.
I'm willing to test the waters, Ethan answered back. That answer was surprising - Ethan was generally strategically conservative. I also used to think only he could trigger the connection between us.
Apparently, he'd just been ignoring me.
"My intent is to have the Packs convene; the ultimate decision on that will be made by the Pack leaders.
But assuming that conversation goes well, we'll convene, and we'll decide whether to remain among humans, or return to the woods. And if the Pack decides that we go," Gabriel weightily added, "then we go."
"Why now?" Ethan asked.
"We know the sorcerers are beginning to see things, that prophecies are beginning to bubble up.
Prophecies of war. Of coming battles."
Ethan nodded. We'd heard Catcher offer up just such a prophecy.
"Have you heard talk about underground groups?"
Ethan leaned forward. "What underground groups?"
Gabriel donned the expression of a man about to impart bad news. "Anti-fang groups. Humans who think vampires showing themselves is the first sign of some coming apocalypse . . . or the second American Civil War."
