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How did the AAM know I didn’t consider myself a member of Cadogan House? Had my parents told Nicole? Didn’t matter, I told myself. I could deal with that later, talk to my parents. Right now, I had to stay focused, because his anger kept growing, pushing hot and prickling magic toward us.
“And what,” Clive continued, “of the next human you change? Or the next human changed—successfully or not—by someone else who believed it was allowed?”
For this first time, it occurred to me that maybe this wasn’t just about me having changed Carlie. Something bigger was going on here. Something more. What did they think I was going to do?
“Since this apparently needs to be said aloud,” I offered, “I have no interest in building a coven or a vampire army, nor do I plan to make any more vampires.”
“Your word is worth little.”
“My word is all I have,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “Word and intention. I’ve told you my intention. So what’s yours, Clive?”
“You are a risk, and you are unrepentant, so you will be dealt with accordingly. Elisa Sullivan,” he said, voice booming across the darkness, “you will agree to be Commended into a recognized House. You will submit to the authority of its Master. And you will undertake formal Testing of your Strengths. If you fail to agree to these demands, your freedom is forfeit.”
FOUR
My blood went cold, ice slipping through my veins.
Testing was the process would-be Masters went through to ensure they were physically and mentally strong enough for the position. It was a measurement of the Strengths vampires valued: physical prowess, psychic ability, and strategic thinking.
There was no way in hell I’d agree to that. I didn’t want to be a Master, and I wouldn’t be able to hide the monster during that kind of ordeal. They’d see. They’d know. And if they wanted to control me now, wait until they found the monster.
I couldn’t see Connor, but I felt a wave of magic, the flash of his concern. It was a reminder that I wasn’t here alone, that I had the support to handle whatever the AAM threw at me—vampire to vampire.
“Are you afraid of me, Clive?” I kept my eyes hard, my voice cold. “Because I can’t think of any other reason you’d demand Testing of a vampire who doesn’t want to be a Master.”
“You cannot flout our rules, our law, with impunity.”
“I saved a human from a monster. I made vampires look like heroes.” I cocked my head at him, forced arrogance into my eyes. “Does Nicole know that you’re here? That you’ve threatened me?”
His face was a study in raw fury, his eyes swirling quicksilver with hatred, his knuckles white as he gripped his katana in itsscabbard. “We act with the authority of the AAM,” he said, which sounded like evasion, but I had no basis to counter it.
“Your parents should have controlled you,” he continued. “Should have taught you how to behave. How to obey. But they didn’t, did they? They allowed you to run wild, to ignore the rules because of the manner of your making.”
“You don’t know how wrong you are.”
“You made your choice,” he said, ignoring that. “You’ll pay the consequences.” His eyes fired again, and his hand crept toward his katana.
“I would be very careful,” I said, “what you do with that sword.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No. It’s a reminder that I have witnesses.”
“He takes one step forward,” Connor said, voice low and threatening, “and he ismine.”
I heard rustling, impatient and ready. But I kept my eyes on Clive.
“A fight won’t benefit any of us,” I said. “That’s the kind of behavior that humans don’t like to see. And as for Carlie, I will break whatever rules are necessary to save an innocent life.”
“You will obey,” Clive said. “Or you will be taken into custody and placed into seclusion until you submit to the AAM’s demands.”
“No,” I said, simply. “I don’t agree to your demands, and I won’t go with you. So I suggest you leave Chicago, report back to Nicole, and tell her what I’ve just told you. And if she has questions, she can talk to me directly.”
“Wrong answer,” Clive said. His eyes had gone diamond-bright with magic and satisfaction at my refusal. Unsurprisingly, this meeting had nothing to do with telling my story; the outcome was preordained. And so, I guessed, was what came next.
Something whistled through the air above us—something sleekand fast. Knife or arrow or shuriken, but not just that. It was a first shot from the AAM. It was a dare.
It was provocation.
