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And there was the pitch. Swing and a miss in my opinion, but that was ultimately for Ethan to decide.
“I’ll mention the request and your offer, but I can’t promise anything.”
“Because of Balthasar?”
The question made me shudder with memory and concern. “How do you know about Balthasar?”
“The several ongoing live broadcasts.” His voice was flat, radiating disapproval that we were making a spectacle of ourselves again.
“I have obligations,” I said, in answer to his question. “So I can’t make a commitment right now.”
“Family obligations trump paramours,” my father said. And with that, a four-word missive on loyalty—and apparent evaluation of my relationship with Ethan, and despite the fact that he wanted to use him for his connections—he hung up the phone.
I threw the phone into the bank of pillows on the bed, gave it a single-fingered salute for good measure. Not exactly classy, but sometimes even messy feelings needed expressing.
Ethan emerged from the bedroom in his favorite sleepwear, a pair of green silk pajama bottoms slung low on his hips. “Another quality conversation between father and daughter, I see. Did you know you pace when you talk to him?”
I looked down, realizing I’d traversed the apartment. “I guess I did. He wants us to attend a charity event at the house of the Wrigley ball night guy.”
“Adrien Reed?”
I looked at him. “How do you know that?”
“Reed loves business, and you love baseball. I pay attention. Why does your father want us there?”
“Because you’re ‘national’ now. That makes you a legit business lead—and a very big catch.”
“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or not. I would like to meet Reed but don’t especially like the thought of leaving the House vulnerable.”
“Mallory and Catcher will be here, so that helps. But I’m going to need a dress.”
Ethan smiled lazily. “I haven’t proposed to you yet.”
He firmly believed marriage was in our future, and enjoyed teasing me with hints of his proposal. He knew I wasn’t yet ready to take that leap, but the teasing certainly kept me on my toes.
“Wrong kind of dress. I could wear one of the previous ones”—this wasn’t the first fancy event Ethan and I had attended—“or you can work your sartorial magic and find something new.”
“I’ll do that,” he said, grabbing his phone and sending a message. “Confirm with your father and get the details. We’ll tell Luc at dusk.”
I pulled my phone from the pillow array, muttering a few choice words about “obligation” and “loyalty” while I did it, but sent my father the message: WE’LL ATTEND. SEND DETAILS.
I put the phone on the nightstand, felt the sudden creep of the sun over the horizon as the room’s automatic shutters closed over the windows. “That’s it for me tonight,” I said, and fell face-first into the pillows.
“Demure and elegant as always,” Ethan said, and I felt the bed dip beside me. “Sleep well, my Sentinel. For tomorrow is another day.”
“Inevitably,” I murmured, and fell into sleep.
Chapter Five
YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE A NATURAL VAMPIRE
Many hours later, the sun crept below the horizon again, leaving the world dark, quiet, and cool. My eyes flashed open as the automatic shutters retracted, sending the orange glow of streetlights into the room.
I glanced beside me. Ethan’s eyes were closed, his body resting atop a tangle of sheets—one leg bent, one arm thrown above the other, brow furrowed. A sheen of sweat covered his body, and there was a stale, lingering magic in the air.
It wasn’t hard to guess the reason for his distress. I touched the back of my hand to his forehead. Clammy, but cool.
“I’m awake,” he said, eyes still closed.
