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He took a step inside. "I hear you've got a problem. Thought perhaps you could use some assistance."

Word traveled fast among supernaturals - or in this case from my message to my grandfather, probably to Jeff, and then to Gabriel. The look on Ethan's face was priceless: Hope and joy blossomed, and perhaps for the first time, he believed there might actually be a way out of this.

He skipped the greeting, walked toward Gabriel, and offered a bear-sized hug. Gabriel slapped him on the back.

"All right, old man. Let's not make Kitten jealous." He glanced around Ethan and smiled at me. "Hello, Kitten."

Gabriel had taken to calling me that, mostly as a comic insult, kittens being among the least powerful of the animals shifters could change into. "Gabe. Welcome to the party."

"It means a lot to the House that you're here," Ethan said, as they moved toward the conference table.

"Yeah, well, don't take it too personally." He glanced around the room, his gaze falling on Michael Donovan. "I'm not sure I know everyone?"

Ethan made the appropriate introductions, and we began to gather around the conference table.

"Oh, one more thing," Gabriel said before sitting, swinging a black backpack off his shoulder. He unzipped it and produced a bundle wrapped in aluminum foil. The scent of barbecue filled the air.

"Mallory sends her regards," he said, handing the packet to me.

By having Gabriel bring me a bundle of meat? She most certainly did.

"Now that Merit's fed, which is clearly our most important consideration," Ethan snarked with a smile, "let's get down to business."

I put the meat on the table and sat down, but didn't open it. Now was not the time.

Ethan stood at the head of the table. "We have what's left of this evening and tomorrow night to figure out how to keep this House in our hands, and prevent the GP from destroying what we've built in this city. Failure," he said, looking at each member of the transition team in turn, "is not an option. I don't care what form the remedy takes - whether contractual, legal, or a good old-fashioned brawl. But we will have a plan in place that assures the continuation of this House in our hands.

"Now," he said, taking a seat, "let's get to work." He looked first at Paige and then the librarian, who sat beside me. "The contracts?"

The librarian nodded. "The contract has what amounts to a good-behavior clause," he said, handing Ethan a document with a flagged page. "It basically says the House is obliged to act in a manner consistent with GP values. If the House fails to do so, the GP is entitled to damages."

Ethan flipped the pages, glancing back and forth between them. "It doesn't say, specifically, the damages are comprised of the House?"

"It doesn't. But the language is vague, so there's no way to tell exactly how a court might interpret it." He shrugged. "But that's just my opinion, and I'm not a lawyer."

Ethan glanced at Malik. "And what do the lawyers say?"

"They're reviewing and researching now. They indicated they might not have a final answer until the sun rises again, but they do have some concerns about judicial interpretation."

"They always do," Ethan said. "The primary problem being we'd have to fight the GP in court, even assuming the courts have jurisdiction over vampiric problems. That 'solution' creates years of litigation, which does not accomplish my goal of resolving this issue before Darius leaves for London again."

He looked at Luc. "A show of force?"

"We could fight the fairies, but you know how they fight: to the death, or they deem it hardly worth the trouble. They prefer seppuku over losing, so any battle would result, at a minimum, in the deaths of multiple vampires or the deaths of all fairies."

Gabriel whistled. "The city of Chicago will not like that."

"No," Ethan agreed. "Nor is it something I can countenance. And I still find it hard to believe that Darius would condone such a thing."

"He doesn't think you'll follow through with it," Lacey said. She sat at the foot of the table, facing Ethan across the piles of materials. "He knows you wouldn't allow your vampires to be injured for the sake of a building, and assumes you'll bow out before then."

"Why the House?" I wondered. "Is it the symbolism or the structure?"

"Both," Lacey quickly answered, playing the authority on the GP's motivations, which maybe she was. "Symbolically, it demonstrates the GP's power - that the Houses are utterly within its control, and failure to fall in line will leave a House, quite literally, without resources."

"And structurally," Ethan put in, looking at me, "it defines who we are. We are unified by Peter's name, but it is the House that brings us together. If we will not follow the rules, Darius will strip away the tie that binds."

Gabriel leaned back in his chair, which squeaked beneath him. "That's a class act you have there."

"We're very proud," Ethan dryly said.

Gabriel sat up again and looked at Ethan. "We are friends," he said. "But I cannot offer soldiers now. Not when there's another way."

He meant not when we could leave the House and avoid the fight altogether. Ethan didn't look thrilled at the news the Pack wouldn't assist us in a fight - they were, by far, the largest group of nonvampire allies we had - but he took the news graciously.

"I understand your position," Ethan said. "It doesn't thrill me, but were I in the same place, I'd likely make the same decision." He looked around the table. "What else?"

"Extortion?" Paige suggested. "I don't know much about these vampires, but do we have anything on any of them we could use to change their minds?"

Ethan and I exchanged a glance. We knew Harold Monmonth had murdered at Celina's behest, but there was no way Darius or any of the other GP members would care. The GP generally thought human lives were beneath their concern. A centuries-old death wouldn't inspire much interest.

"Not that I'm aware of," Ethan said.

"We can't buy them off," Malik said. "We're out of money."

"What about the egg?" Gabriel asked.

Everyone looked at Gabriel. "What about it?" Ethan asked.

"It's the key to the entire thing. The fairies want it; Darius has it. I assume he hasn't given it to them yet and won't - not until they follow through on their promise to attack. If you can get it back . . ."

"Then we hold the trophy," Ethan said, "and the fairies won't care what the GP wants them to do." He sat back, then looked at Michael. "Thoughts?"

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