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“Is Nicole being played by her staff?” I wondered.
“Even good leaders can have bad employees,” he said grimly. “We’ve sent Luc to New York to talk to her and speed a resolution.” Luc was the House’s former guard captain. He became House Second when Uncle Malik became a Master.
“What about more generally? Is there anything I can use? Some rule of the AAM I can twist around?”
“We’ve learned the Compliance Bureau was created for a one-year trial period,” my father said. “Unfortunately, that means there’s noCanonlaw that applies to it.”
“So no regulations I could say they’re breaking?”
“Not that we’re aware of yet.”
Frustration had me rising, stalking to the end of the room and looking through those dark windows to the grounds beyond, to the stands of trees and late-season flowers, the lights that dappled the grass. It comforted me, to see the space, to know it was bound by the rules of nature, not of vampires.
I exhaled, turned back. “Saving a human life is more important than a rule. And locking up vampires who don’t agree with them is just wrong.”
“We don’t disagree,” my father said. “But changing the rules is going to take time. It’ssupposedto take time,” he added at my impatient look, “to ensure that rules are thoroughly considered,that the process isn’t manipulated to serve someone’s whim. Until we hear from Luc, it would be best to avoid the Bureau and let the OMB investigate.” He paused. “Would you consider joining a House as a temporary measure? Just until we can gather the necessary support?”
I just looked at him. “Dad.”
“What about staying here temporarily?” my mother asked.
“No,”I said, more forcefully now. “I’m not going to put you at risk like that. It’s not fair to you or anyone else in the House. And giving in to the Bureau’s demands is an admission I did something wrong. I won’t apologize to them for making Carlie. And I shouldn’t be punished for doing the right thing.”
Dad’s expression was pained, but he nodded. “We had to try,” he said with a lopsided smile. “It’s the best way to protect you.”
No, I thought, it wasn’t. Because whether Nicole Heart knew it or not, Clive had other ideas. Other plans. Other missions.
“What about seclusion?” I asked, already seeing the strain around their eyes.
“I would presume they mean incarceration,” Dad said. “But the AAM doesn’t have a facility for that, or not that they’ve told the Masters.”
“They might have contracted with a facility in Atlanta,” my mother said.
“So they’d just incarcerate me until I cave. Until I swear allegiance.”
“That’s the threat,” my mother said. “And you would be the first they’d handled that way. Or maybe they’re just bluffing because they think you’ll be frightened enough to join a House.”
I could see in her eyes that she wanted me to take that step because, she thought, it would ensure my safety. But I wasn’t so sure.
“There’s still Testing,” I said. “If I fail, they’ll say something’s wrong with me. That I was born broken. If I pass, they’ll say I’m too strong for my own good. And if there’s anything unusual, seclusion will be the least of my worries.”
Because they’d see who I was.
I glanced up and saw my mother watching me, gaze narrowed. And I knew she’d seen something. I didn’t know what—not the monster, which was bored by more talk—but something of my concern, of my fear.
Maintain,I ordered myself, and gave her the only smile I could manage. Small, and probably not convincing.
“Clive won’t stop,” I said.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
I thought of what I’d told Gwen. “He believes in what he’s doing. Not just that rules are important, but that rules are the only thing that is important. It goes beyond me. If Nicole Heart broke a rule, no matter how innocuous, I think he’d do the same to her. Not because it would mean no favoritism, but because he has no real loyalty to her. If she broke a rule, he’d punish her, too. Maybe it’s a kind of obsession,” I suggested. “Maybe it’s about control. There was nothing unusual in his background that you found? The Ombuds didn’t, but...”
“We found nothing on Clive,” my mother said. “We did the full run. And speaking of the Ombuds,” my mother said, “we know about the stalker. You should have told us.”
“I didn’t know until after we’d talked.” And damn whoever had told them first. “I haven’t seen him—only the notes—until tonight.”
“Connor’s okay?” my mother asked.
