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"He's being unreasonable," I said, glancing around at them. "None of this is Cadogan's fault.
It's Adam Keene's fault. It's the GP's fault - Celina's fault. We're reaping the consequences of their bad acts, and now he wants to put the GP in charge of the House?"
Ethan sat up straight again. "That's the long and short of it. A receiver would come into the House, begin an investigation of House procedures, and have the authority - the GP-granted authority - to approve every decision that's made in this House, regardless of how big or small. A receiver would report every decision back to the GP, including Darius, including Celina."
Ethan looked up at me, his green eyes icy cold.
"And I have to wonder whether he'd be raising the issue if our Sentinel hadn't just informed him that Chicago was heading to hell in a handbasket." So the calm, unruffled, forgiving Ethan had been an act for Darius.
Unfortunately for him, we'd come too far for me to be intimidated by a snarky phrase or nasty look. I'd gone out and faced danger for him and the House, and I wasn't about to shrink away because he didn't like the consequences. I gave him back the same stare.
The room went silent, until Ethan barked out an order, his gaze still on me. "Excuse us, please."
When no one budged, he glanced around the room. "I wasn't asking for permission."
That was enough to send Luc and Malik scurrying out the door, both of them offering me sympathetic looks.
It wasn't until we were alone, the door shut behind them, that Ethan finally looked away. For a full minute, he sat quietly, his back rigid.
Finally, he walked back to his desk and settled himself behind it, putting space - and furniture - between us.
I'd known him long enough to call it "typical Sullivan." It was the kind of action we could have added to the Ethan Sullivan drinking game, falling somewhere between his imperious eyebrow arching and his habit of referring to any Novitiate in his House by position, rather than by name.
"Sentinel," he finally said, linking his fingers on his desk.
I took a step forward, intent on making him believe how much I regretted what I'd inadvertently told Darius. "Ethan, I am so sorry.
You were on the phone, and it didn't even occur to me to see if anyone was behind me."
He held up a hand. "You told him where you'd been. I am not sure whether to throttle you now or simply hand you over to the Presidium and let them do it."
If I were him, I'd throttle me, too. I just nodded.
When Ethan finally looked at me again, there was desperation in his eyes.
"A receiver. In my goddamned House. A House I have watched, guided, parented when necessary. Do you know what an insult that is?
To have an administrator - some organizational specialist who couldn't guide vampires with a map and compass - replacing me? Telling me what I've done right or wrong, how I should 'fix' the things I've broken."
My heart clenched sympathetically. It must have been hard to hear that not only was the supreme leader of vamps not happy with your work, but he was considering sending someone across the pond to make sure the work was done correctly. It wouldn't have thrilled me, either.
And the worst part? This was at least partly my fault. I mean, it seemed unlikely Darius would have traveled this far if he didn't have concerns about the House, but that didn't mean I hadn't pushed him over the receivership edge.
"This House is old, Merit. It is a respectable House. The appointment of a receiver is a slap in the face." He looked away, shaking his head ruefully. "How can I not take that as an insult to all that I've done since Peter's death?"
That Peter was Peter Cadogan, the House's namesake and first Master. The man who'd held the reins until his death, when Ethan took over.
"I would take it personally, too."
Ethan barked out a laugh. "It's hardly that I take it personally, Sentinel. It's that it's a slap against me and Malik, Luc, Helen - the entire staff. Every Initiate Commended, every Novitiate who has served. Every sacrifice made. You essentially told him we don't have things in hand."
"We don't if what we saw last night is commonplace. This wasn't half a dozen vampires and a couple of humans, Ethan. There were dozens of vamps, dozens of humans. The party was huge, and it was loud, and it wasn't just about a little private sip."
"So it wasn't a rave."
"Not the kind of raves we knew about before.
The vamps were on edge, the magic thick. Vamps were picking fights all over the place."
"Did you and Noah have to defend yourselves?"
I hated lying to Ethan. Hated it. But it wasn't fair of me to clear my conscience at Jonah's expense, so I sucked it up and played out the story.
"Defend ourselves, yes. We weren't involved in any fighting of consequence, although things got nasty when we made our exit. I'd found a human who needed help - drugged or glamoured; I'm not sure which. She needed out, and there were a few vamps who weren't happy to see her go. Noah spilled blood as a distraction, and the vamps went crazy. The place erupted with fighting, but we got her out and sent her home.
She was grateful enough - embarrassed enough - that I don't think she'll cause us problems down the road."
I sighed and looked away. "I hate saying that, Ethan. It mortifies me that I have to think about a woman who's been in a bad position as a liability. She was made a commodity by those vampires. That shouldn't happen twice. Not by us."
I looked back at him, and appreciated the sympathy in his eyes.
"You are a very human vampire," he affectionately said.
"So you say."
"I once considered it a liability. And for some vampires, I still do. But for you - let us hope they don't bleed it out of you."
We were quiet for a moment, just looking at each other. I finally broke the silence. I reached into my pocket, pulled out the envelope, and handed it to him. "This is why we think the humans may have been drugged."
Ethan inspected the envelope, then dropped the pills into his hand. "What's V?"
"Don't know. I'm assuming it stands for 'vampire.' And the punch line? The human who gave this to me, Sarah, had learned about the rave at Temple Bar."
His gaze went cold. "Someone is using the Cadogan House bar to solicit humans?"
"That would appear to be the case."
A muscle in his cheek twitched, but after a moment, he seemed to relax again.
"At least you managed not to tell Darius about that."
There was a smirk in his eyes that made me smile.
"We'll thank God for small miracles," I agreed. "Sarah said she heard about the rave from a short guy . . . and a woman named Marie."
