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I didn't want to be one of those girls that became more attracted to things I couldn't have.
But that was not really what this was. Against all odds - and every bit of relationship advice handed down by mothers and girlfriends through the centuries - he honestly seemed to be changing. He'd moved from taking advantage of the chemistry between us to wooing me with words, with trust, with respect.
That wasn't something I'd expected, but that made it all the more meaningful . . . and frightening. As a girl with good sense, how was I supposed to react to a boy who'd done the unthinkable and actually grown up?
It was a hard question. While the thought of our being together was kind of thrilling . . . I still wasn't ready. Would I be ready eventually?
Honestly, I didn't know. But as Ethan had once told me, he had eternity to prove me wrong.
He found on-street parking outside Grey House.
It was weird to approach the building for the second time in the guise of a dinner guest who'd never seen the inside. I decided to play surprised and impressed - but however I tried to spin it, it was still a lie to Ethan.
With a Master at my side, I walked back into Grey House. Charlie, Darius's assistant, stood just in front of the lush greenery in the atrium. He wore navy slacks and a khaki blazer, a pale blue shirt beneath. His feet were tucked into loafers, no socks. It was an odd ensemble for August in Chicago, but the formality suited him.
Charlie didn't leave his task to the imagination. "Darius would like to speak with you."
Ethan and I exchanged a glance. "Where?" he asked.
Charlie smiled grandly. "Scott has offered up his office. This way," he said, extending an arm.
We followed him through the atrium to one of the doors beneath the walkway - one of the rooms Jonah had said was nonessential. He opened the door and waited while we walked inside.
The room was gigantic, nearly as large as a football field. It looked like an old warehouse - with well-worn plank floors and painted brick walls, a post-and-beam ceiling overhead. There were desks sprinkled throughout the space. I guessed Scott and his staff shared an office.
But if so, they weren't in sight now. Darius sat beside Scott on a low, modern couch. Both of them wore suits. Jonah stood behind him and gave me a small nod of acknowledgment . . . and then what looked from the corner of my eye like a more lingering glance. I was probably imagining it, but when I involuntarily met his gaze, he looked swiftly away like he'd been caught midstare.
Like I'd said, complications.
Morgan stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, wearing the shirt and trousers I'd seen him in - and not in - earlier. He glanced up when we walked in, but wouldn't make eye contact.
My stomach sank, and I knew exactly what was coming. I risked making telepathic contact with Ethan.
Be ready, I told him. I think Morgan told Darius about Paulie Cermak.
Charlie walked out again and closed the door behind him. Darius started in as soon as the door was closed.
"Mr. Greer has advised me that you've been investigating Celina."
This time, it was my mental connection with Morgan that I activated - it wasn't a connection we were supposed to have, since he hadn't made me a vampire, but it was handy when he needed a bit of surreptitious berating.
I trusted you, I told him. I trusted you with information, and you decided to take it to Darius?
He didn't respond, just shook his head. It was the move of a coward - or a child. And it didn't exactly help diminish my own anger.
Ethan might have been surprised the last time Darius had gone on the offensive, but this time he was prepared for the onslaught. "As you know, Sire, we are required by Canon to follow the laws and dictates of the city in which we are Housed. Mayor Tate required us to investigate the nature of the new raves. We have done so."
"You have implicated a member of the Presidium."
"We have followed the information where it led."
"And it led to Celina?"
Ever so slowly, Ethan turned his frosty gaze on Morgan. "I believe Mr. Greer was the vampire who confirmed Celina's relationship with a man believed to be distributing V across the city."
Morgan looked back at Ethan, teeth bared, magic suddenly spilling into the room as his anger obviously blossomed.
Ethan's reaction was nearly instantaneous. His eyes silvered, his own fangs descended, and his own magic - cooler and crisper than Morgan's - spilled out, as well. Ethan took a step forward, menace in his eyes, and me at his back.
I'd seen Ethan pissed before - even at Morgan - but never like this.
"You will remember your place," Ethan said, calling on the fact that he'd been Master longer than Morgan had been alive. Hell, I'd been a vampire longer than Morgan had been Master, and that wasn't saying much.
But this time, Morgan wasn't swayed. He took a step forward and stabbed a finger in his chest.
"My place? Mine is the oldest American House, Sullivan. And don't you forget it. And I'm not the one embarrassing all the Houses by stirring up drama that doesn't need to be stirred."
"Are you insane?" Ethan asked. "Do you understand what's going on out there right now?
The trouble - the risks - the Houses are facing because of what your former Master did? Or because of what she's doing right now?"
"Enough!" Darius said, jumping to his feet.
"Enough of this. You are Masters of your Houses, and you're acting like children. This conversation is an embarrassment to all American Houses and the GP - without whose generosity they would not exist."
That was putting it a bit strongly, I thought.
"As of this instant, you will both begin to comport yourselves like Masters. Like the princes you were meant to be. Not squabbling like human children."
Darius looked up, icy eyes drilling into me.
"Your Sentinel is off the streets. She is not to be engaged in any further investigation of whatever issues your mayor imagines to exist."
Ethan's eyes could hardly have been wider.
"And if the warrant for my arrest is executed?"
Darius's gaze slipped back to Ethan. "The mayor of the city of Chicago is surely intelligent enough not to think that a man-made prison can hold you. However much he may enjoy using the threat of incarceration to coerce you into solving his problems for him, those problems are still his to solve. And, more important, have any of you seen evidence that the three girls your mayor believes were killed are actually dead? Have you seen any evidence three girls were missing in Chicago?"
Catcher had promised he'd look into the girls' deaths, but hadn't passed any information along to me. But just because they hadn't solved the crime didn't mean a crime hadn't been committed.
