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“I am speaking to you, Novitiate,” Ethan said, bending toward the vampire, his tone low and dangerous, an inferno only temporarily banked. “For several reasons, including my rank and yours, you do not want to ignore me. Name and goddamned House!”

“Zane,” Will finally threw out, answering for him. “Of House Navarre.”

“And do you, Will and Zane, have any excuse for what you’ve done here tonight? For attempted murder? For treachery? For acting precisely like the monsters humans believe us to be?”

“Humans attack each other all the time,” Zane said, not realizing it was in his best interest to keep his damn mouth shut.

“We do not set our behavior by the lowest common denominator,” Ethan said, magic flaring around him with a rush of searing heat. “We aspire to more, and we are held to a higher standard. We will be excoriated for this. I hope you and your Master are prepared for the punishments you have earned tonight. And where, dare I ask, is your Master?”

Ethan already had doubts about Morgan Greer’s ability to hold Navarre House. This wasn’t going to help.

“He doesn’t know we’re here,” Will said quickly, with a warning look at Zane. “He doesn’t know anything about this.”

Ethan straightened, clearly dubious. “We’ll see about that. Rest assured, Will and Zane. Regardless the punishments meted out by King, Reed, the CPD, and the people of this city, the AAM will have things to say about this trespass, this violence, this violation against all of us.” Chest heaving with fury, Ethan stepped back, pushed a hand through his hair as he struggled to control his anger.

Jacobs took up the thread. “Why Sanford King?”

Neither answered.

“We’ll find out. Whether you tell us tonight, or we find out from others.” Ethan settled his gaze on Will. “You know Merit, and you know the Ombudsman. You know how skilled they are at resolving supernatural dramatics.”

“We did the right thing,” Zane said.

Ethan arched a responsive eyebrow. “How, precisely, was trespassing and attempting to kill a human who, I suspect, you’ve never met until tonight the ‘right thing’?”

Will kept his lips pressed tightly together, but Zane clearly didn’t mind talking. “Sanford King is a criminal.”

“As are you,” I pointed out. “And I seriously doubt Sanford King, whatever his transgressions, ever crashed a party at sword point and called someone out.”

Neither one of them had an answer to that.

Ethan let the silence hang heavy in the air for a moment before looking at Jacobs. “Do with them what you will.”

“Call Morgan,” Will said as the uniforms pulled him to his feet, began to read them their rights.

“Morgan has been called,” my grandfather assured him. “And we’ll be having a very long talk.”

Chapter Eight

SOMETHING IS ROTTEN IN THE STATE OF ILLINOIS

Reed sent his guests home, and Jacobs and two uniformed officers accompanied the vampires to the station. My father, grandfather, Ethan, and I stayed in Reed’s office, waiting for him to return.

My father stood across the room beside the globe, occasionally spinning it to watch its rotation. I sat beside my grandfather on a tufted leather couch of stiff burgundy leather, the type that had probably looked much more comfortable in the catalogue. Ethan stood beside me on his phone, updating the House.

o;Very well,” Reed said. He walked toward the door but stopped when he reached my father, whispered something fierce that had my father putting a hand on Reed’s arm, attempting to soothe.

When Reed disappeared, his butler behind him, my father looked at me and Ethan, and there was nothing pleasant in his accusatory gaze or his tone. “Is this your doing?”

Beside me, my grandfather sighed. “Joshua, really.”

“It’s all right, Chuck,” Ethan said, smiling politely before sliding his gaze to my father. His smile narrowed to something much more predatory.

“If he believes even asking that question is appropriate considering that his daughter and I just battled these men in front of several hundred witnesses, he’s savvier than I’ve given him credit for.”

My father’s eyes flashed hot, and he pointed at Ethan with obvious fury. “Now, you wait—”

“No, I will not wait,” Ethan said, voice as calm as my father’s was angry. “We came here to repay a favor to you, and we resolved a problem on the verge of turning very, very ugly. That problem clearly had nothing to do with us, except that the perpetrators were vampires. And instead of offering thanks, you blame us? You have the nerve to ask if we planned it? You go too far.”

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