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I spoke up. "The eyewitness believed that three women were killed. And the things he described were accurate - vampires who were trigger-happy, doped on violence, ready to fight."
"In other words," Darius began, his manner supremely smug, "just like vampires?"
Let it be, Sentinel, echoed Ethan's voice in my head. Battling six hundred years of entrenched belief is not a fight you can win.
He's wrong, I protested.
That's as may be. But our fight is for Chicago, not Darius West, whatever his power.
Fight the fight you can win. For now, he added in classic Ethan style, be still.
"And the fact that raves are becoming larger and more violent?" Ethan asked.
"Vampires are acting as vampires have always acted. If a few errant vampires break the rules of their home city, let the city respond."
"And if that's not enough?"
"Then the GP will discuss it, and the GP will act. Maintain control over your own House, Ethan, and leave the GP to its work. You are not to consider this issue any further."
A heavy silence filled the room.
"Sire," Scott said, finally speaking up. "I'm informed our guests have arrived. As you have presented your directives, perhaps Ethan can acknowledge receipt and we can move into dinner?"
Darius tilted his head at Ethan, the move more canine than vampiric. "Ethan?"
Ethan moistened his lips, and I knew he was stalling. Given the spiel he then offered up, I knew why.
"Sire, I acknowledge receipt of your directives and . . . will act as commanded."
He might as well have been crossing his fingers behind his back for all the rebellion in his body language. But you couldn't fault his answer. He sounded completely obedient - in word and tone.
Those words, probably holdovers from some feudal ritual, were enough, for Darius nodded.
"Let us eat, drink, and be merry."
He walked to Ethan, arm extended. In a move similar to one I'd seen Ethan and Malik make, Ethan extended his arm, as well, and they grasped forearms and shared a manly half hug.
Whispering followed, quiet enough that I couldn't make out the words.
When the gesture was complete, Ethan and Darius exited the office. Morgan followed, then Scott. I was last out the door, but I didn't make it very far.
Morgan cornered me in the hallway, putting his hand on my arm to stop me. "She was my Master. I had to tell him."
I pulled my arm away. "No," I whispered, "you didn't have to tell him. You knew we were handling it, that we were investigating. What you apparently had to do was sell me - and my House - down the river because our relationship didn't work out and you're still pissed about it."
His eyes widened, but he didn't comment.
"I'm done helping you," I told him. "We're the ones fighting to keep the Houses, the city, together. I thought I could count on you as an ally, which is why I gave you the information. I thought it would help if we were all on the same page. I was obviously wrong about that, because you'd rather act like a stung fourteen-year-old than a grown-up."
"I am still a Master," he said, puffing out his chest a little.
"For Navarre, that remains to be seen, 'cause you're letting Celina keep control. And as for me?" I leaned forward a little. "You're not my Master." I walked away, undoubtedly leaking a trail of magic behind me.
I'd thought when Morgan took over Navarre that at least we wouldn't have an enemy in place, someone who used people whenever the whim struck her. But as was the case with so many other things since I'd become a vampire, I'd been wrong.
Chapter Nineteen
RED, RED WINE
Our dinner party was assembled in another room accessible through the atrium, a space in the warehouse nearly as large as the joint office had been. This one looked like a room for special events; tonight, a single, rectangular table was set in the middle of the room, a handful of modern-style chairs surrounding it.
Gabriel Keene, head of the North American Central Pack of shape-shifters, stood beside the table with his wife, Tonya. The Masters were already moving toward their chairs, having apparently already offered their introductions, which left the shifters to me.
I walked toward them, ignoring the vampire behind me and the others in the room. I wouldn't call Gabriel and Tonya friends per se, but Gabriel certainly had more foresight than Darius, which I could respect.
"I understand congratulations are in order," I said, offering them both a smile.
Gabriel was as manly as they came - big, brawny, tawny-haired, and honey-eyed with a love of leather and fine Harleys - but his face beamed with paternal pride. "We have a beautiful baby boy at home," he confirmed. "We appreciate the sentiment."
"It was nice of you to join us tonight," I said with a teasing smile. "I can't imagine you'd normally prefer vampire company to your newborn son's."
Gabriel cast a suspicious glance at Darius and the others. I understood the feeling. "There are things in life we need to do," he said, "and there are things in life we must do. Although I don't anticipate we'll stay very long."
Smiling, Tonya fished a tiny wallet out of her clutch. "Who could leave this face for long?" She held out a small photo of an admittedly adorable baby in a blue onesie. Gabriel smiled at the sight of the picture. He was clearly smitten.
There was a wealth of pride and love in his eyes, but when he raised his gaze to me, I could see the hint of fear behind it. The fear that comes from loving something so much you feel weighted down with it, nearly crushed by it. The fear of potential loss, of potential heartbreak, that you might fail the thing you worked so hard to bring into the world.
Parental fear, I suppose, made worse by the fact that being leader - Apex - of the Pack was hereditary. Connor was born a prince among wolves. He'd been born beneath a mantle of power, but also bearing the mantle of a responsibility he couldn't even begin to fathom.
It must have been a lot for Gabriel to bear, knowing the responsibility he'd one day hoist upon his child's shoulders.
"You'll do right by him," I whispered. I wasn't sure if the words were elegant enough, but they seemed right enough. And Gabriel's small nod told me I'd said just the right thing.
"How are things otherwise?"
"Well, we aren't being used as scientific experiments," Gabriel said dryly. "That's a small victory." One of his concerns about announcing shifters' existence to the world was the fear they'd become fodder for military or medical research - the kinds of things you saw in monster movies and horror flicks. It wasn't exactly a pleasant thought, and I was glad to hear it hadn't come to pass.
