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That had been months ago, and before she’d come through the other side of her addiction. But still, that he’d trust her enough to let her stay in the House was a very big step for both of them.
“I don’t know,” Catcher said, glancing at Mallory.
“You can discuss it,” Ethan said.
“And I’ll offer this—a basket of bedtime snacks, every night.” I smiled at them. “That’s a key for me.”
“I know Chuck would appreciate it, given the circumstances,” Catcher said. “And we actually would be closer to his office.”
“That is true,” Mallory said. “But—well, the other vampires may not like it.”
“I am their Master,” Ethan said simply. “Not the other way around. But I think you don’t give them enough credit. You’ve helped this House considerably.” He smiled. “And they’re vampires. By their nature, they believe in second chances. For what it’s worth, I’d consider it a personal favor.”
o;That’s comforting,” Mallory said, and Ethan nodded.
“He’ll be well monitored, but to some extent we’ll have to wait for him to make a move.”
“You could,” Catcher said. “Or you could provoke him into making one.”
When Ethan’s expression didn’t change, I guessed he’d already considered that particular strategy.
I glanced at Ethan. “You’ve come up with a plan.”
“I’m considering disavowal.”
“Damn,” Catcher said, shifting in his seat. “I haven’t heard that word in a while.”
I’d never heard it, but I had seen it in print in the Canon, the collection of vampire lore and laws. Every House Initiate got a desk reference, and the entire set of books—dozens of volumes—were stored in the House’s second-floor library, one of its most spectacular rooms.
“What’s disavowal?” Mallory asked.
“It’s when a vampire publicly repudiates the one who made him,” I said, earning Ethan’s approving nod. “Being given immortality, whatever the circumstances, is considered a gift. It creates a bond—magically, biologically, politically—between the vampires. Disavowal severs the bond. It’s considered an extreme action, an action of last resort, and ethically questionable.”
“So, technically,” Mallory said, “you could have disavowed Darth Sullivan?”
The question—and the nickname we used for him—was out before she’d realized what she’d said. She mouthed a curse, squeezed her eyes closed. “Crap.”
Ethan sat up straight, slowly turned his gaze to me. “Darth Sullivan?”
I inwardly cringed, opted for defense. “You’re so handsome.”
“Merit.”
“And really tall.” I cocked my head at him. “Has anyone ever told you that you resemble David Beckham?”
“Merit.”
There was no avoiding it now. “We made up the name before we got to know you. In fairness, we only did it because we really, really didn’t like you.” I grinned. “But we really like you now.”
“A lot,” Mallory confirmed. But Ethan wasn’t ready to let go of the bone.
Darth Sullivan?
You didn’t like me, either, I reminded him. I bet you had a crabby nickname for me, too. When he didn’t immediately answer, I looked at him sharply. Ethan Sullivan. You had a nickname for me.
In fairness, he said, mimicking me, we really, really didn’t like you.
Are you going to tell me what it is?
