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“Don’t be condescending.”
Temper flashed in his eyes. “I am not condescending. I am expecting bravery from you. If you’re afraid, we’ll work through it. But we will not back down because of her. We will not let her destroy our family before we have a chance to begin it.”
“Nothing is certain,” I said, thinking of Gabe and Claudia. “And maybe I don’t want any more risk.”
“Then maybe you aren’t acting like the Sentinel of this House.”
I had no words for him, no possible response. I didn’t like feeling afraid, and certainly didn’t like showing that fear to him. But that didn’t seem to matter. The fear still gripped me, dark and icy, just as winter had apparently gripped the city.
We stared at each other in silence until automatic shades descended over the windows, until the sun breached the horizon.
We slept because the sun demanded it, but there was a cold gap between us.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SNOWBALL
I’d planned to go for a run at dusk, hoping the chill in the air would clear my head—and some of the tension that still lingered between Ethan and me.
Wondering what I should wear—how bundled I’d need to be against Sorcha’s chill—I pushed back one heavy curtain. And stared at the canvas of white that glowed beneath a clear, dark sky.
“Ethan.”
He was already dressed, was flipping through the Tribune. He moved behind me, and I heard the catch in his breath when he realized what we were facing.
It looked like the city had been dipped into liquid nitrogen—or dropped into an ice age. There was a foot of snow on the ground, and every surface above the ground—trees, fence, the houses beyond it—was covered in gleaming, blue-white ice or hanging with icicles as sharp as stilettos.
The street outside, usually busy into the early hours of the night, was empty of cars. The vehicles that had been parked on the side of the road were coated in snow and ice so thick it looked like rubber. If the entire city was like this, she’d have brought the city to a standstill.
Dread settled low in my gut.
“I hadn’t checked my phone yet,” Ethan said. “I was giving myself—us—a chance to talk first.”
I looked back at him, saw the same worry in his eyes. “There will be messages galore. My grandfather, the other Houses. The mayor.” I looked back at the window. Hell, if the rest of the city was like this, the Illinois National Guard would probably be beating down our door.
“Everyone,” he agreed. “This is not the type of thing we can push aside or ignore. This will require a response.”
There was a pounding on the door.
“And I guess we won’t have the luxury of that talk,” he said, and looked at me for a moment before turning for the door.
He opened it, found Luc with fist raised, ready to knock again. Luc wore a Cadogan House Track T-shirt with jeans and scuffed cowboy boots, his hair more tousled than usual.
“Sorry for the interruption, Sire, but I’m guessing you hadn’t checked your messages.” He met my gaze, nodded. “Mrs. Sire.”
“I hadn’t clocked in yet,” Ethan said. “What’s wrong?”
“If you’d come downstairs? Mallory and Catcher are already down there.”
