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I didn’t know the monster existed until I’d become a teenager, until I was old enough to feel magic, to recognize the urge that was coming from inside me. I’d feared I was crazy, until the first time I’d walked into the House’s armory.
I’d gone in with the other sups homeschooled at Cadogan to learn about weaponry, and the pounding had begun the second the armory door had been opened.
Her sword had spent most of the past twenty years hanging there, in part because of what it held, in part because she didn’t carry it anymore. Chicago had been mostly peaceful, at least as far as sups were concerned. She’d taken a hiatus as Sentinel while I was young, and vampires had agreed not to carry visible weapons in public.
I’d moved toward the katana, and I’d felt the pull down to my bones.
That was the first time I realized that I wasn’t crazy, that the monster was something other. I didn’t know then or now exactly what it was—some fragment of the Egregore, or some new thing created by the binding magic—only that it yearned to be free from me, to be united with the magic in the sword.
And because I wouldn’t let that happen, it was furious. That’s why my anger often awakened the monster. Because it understood the feeling.
I’d made my mother and Lulu’s tell me the story of the dragon over and over again, trying to ferret out some detail that would confirm whether I was right. I hadn’t found that detail, and I still didn’t know for sure. And I couldn’t tell either one of them—couldn’t bring myself to confess that Mallory’s magic had hurt me and made me hurt others.
No one else,I promised. I was responsible for its behavior, and I would damn wellberesponsible.
Pushing through the mental haze of magic, I moved through the room to the double doors on the other end, slipped into the women’s lounge. There were two walls of mirrored counters and stools, and no women in sight.
I moved to the closest mirror. My irises had shifted from green to silver, as happened to all vampires when their emotions were high. But along the edge, like the corona of an eclipsed star, was a thin line of gleaming crimson growing wider with each heartbeat. If I didn’t take control, the red would bleed farther until my eyes gleamed like rubies. And there’d be no hiding that.
I was jet-lagged and tired, and the monster had sensed the weakness. So I made myself focus. Made myself bear down against it. I closed my eyes, slowed my breathing again, and counted to a hundred, and then again, until I could feel it recede.
When I opened my eyes, they were green again.
They were going to stay that way.
• • •
After the usual introductions and well-wishing, the first session of talks began with the airing of grievances, like an obscene vampire Festivus.
The European Masters were allotted four minutes apiece to introduce themselves and their House, and identify their singular goal for the discussions. Some spoke of peace. But most, being old and powerful vampires, spoke of power and recognition. They wanted to be part of the new order, whatever that might be.
“We were excluded from the Greenwich Presidium,” the Master of the only Sicilian House said through his translator. “We demand a voice in the new regime.”
The demand set off murmurs and whispers and a few outright rebuttals.
“Your House is the newest!” said one of the German delegates. “The Houses with longer tenures should have more power.”
“Delegates.”
My father pushed power into the word, and although it took a moment for the sound to spiral into silence, it was the only word he’d needed to speak.
“I would remind you that we are here to explore peace. We are here to speak our respective truths and listen to the truths of our neighbors. Respect is elemental, crucial, and mandatory.” He turned his intense emerald gaze on every vampire in the audience. “If we do not start from that common thread, there can be little hope of progress.”
There were more mumbles in the crowd, and his eyes went hard and cold. My father was a loving and patient man. But he did not tolerate idiocy.
“To those of who you believe progress is less important than your own self-interest, let me remind you what happened to the Greenwich Presidium. Self-interest does not serve the long-term interests of any House. Either you work together, as we have donein Chicago, or you fall together. And if you fall together, you will lose allies. You will lose coffers. You will lose reputation.... And you will lose lives.”
He let those words echo through the room, and when silence settled again, he nodded.
My father had power and respect, and those words were likely enough for every vampire in the room.
But they weren’t enough for the intruders.
I heard them before I saw them, the whistle that cut through the air. And then they swarmed into the ballroom, an army on the attack.
Fairies.
No longer in tunics, but black fatigues. Their hair, long and dark and severe, pulled back over sharp cheekbones and wide eyes.
