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No. Because I’ve no wish to sleep on the floor. His grin was wicked, but I was immortal. I’d get it out of him sooner or later.

“Do you ever get the feeling we’re only getting fifty percent of the conversation in here?” Mallory asked.

“As long as they’re keeping the sex talk to themselves, it’s fine by me.”

This isn’t over, I told him, then turned back to Mallory. “It’s not sex talk. And technically, yes, I could have disavowed Ethan. But I hadn’t known about it then, and he’d have been really pissed, considering he saved my life.”

“Hey, at least she concedes that now,” Catcher said. “She was pretty pissed about it at first.”

“Well aware,” Ethan said. “So, to get back to the point, I could disavow Balthasar. In my so doing, he wouldn’t be able to rely on his relationship with me for any material or political purposes.”

“And risking the possibility of setting him off,” Catcher said.

Ethan nodded. “That would be the concern. But it’s an idea on the list.”

Mallory yawned, and Catcher glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late—or early. We should get home before they lock the place down. Don’t want to be stuck with a bunch of bloodsuckers when the sun comes up.”

Ethan regarded them thoughtfully. “Actually, that’s another interesting idea.”

“Getting stuck with bloodsuckers?”

“In a manner of speaking.” He looked down, seemed to choose his words before lifting his gaze again. “Balthasar presents an unusual problem for us—a magical problem. And the two of you are obviously experts. How would you feel about staying at the House in the interim? You’d be an extra precaution, of a type.”

The offer was met with stunned silence. The last time Mallory had spent an evening at Cadogan House, she had been so far in the depths of a black magic obsession that she’d stolen Ethan’s ashes in order to make him her familiar. It hadn’t worked that way, but it had brought him back to life, a result for which I’d be eternally grateful.

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.”

He looked at me, and I suddenly understood. Ethan wasn’t afraid Balthasar would attack the House . . . but that Balthasar would attack me, and Ethan wouldn’t be able to get to me quickly enough.

Ethan held up his hands. “This is a big request, and it’s completely up to you, and I understand if you’d like some time to think about it. And, of course, we’d prepare appropriate remuneration for your services.” He smiled at Mallory. “Perhaps a donation to Sorcerers Without Borders?”

SWOB was a group Mallory had created to help fledgling sorcerers navigate their new magicks. It was a mission close to her heart, since she’d come out of the magical gate swinging some very bad mojo.

Mallory and Catcher looked at each other. She shrugged, and he nodded. “Fine by us,” he said. “I could stand to be pampered at Hotel Cadogan a bit. Assuming Merit’s right about the bedtime snack basket.”

“If she’s ever right about anything, it’s food.”

I gave him the arm punch that he deserved.

Ethan must have made his request psychically. Barely three seconds later, Helen, the House’s den mother, appeared in the doorway in her typical ensemble—a tidy tweed skirt and jacket in her usual pale pink, her short bob of silver hair styled with Photoshop-worthy perfection. (It had only gotten more perfect since Ethan’s transition to the AAM, as Helen was now his official social secretary.)

“Sire?” she crisply said.

“Prepare the guest suite, if you would. Mallory and Catcher will be staying with us for a few days.”

Helen kept her gaze on Ethan, but she pressed her lips together in obvious disagreement with his choice. “They will.”

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