Blood Games

Chapter Two FACE-OFF

My adrenaline began to race, and time seemed to slow to a syrupy crawl—every movement exaggerated, every scent stronger, every sound louder. I scanned the crowd, looking for a flash of metal, a suggestion of danger. For something that explained the cold chill that was now slinking its way up my spine.

Ethan, I silently warned, moving in front of him. I felt his magic lift as he transformed from athlete to Master vampire and scanned the area. I also felt the irritated twinge of it. He was just alpha enough to be bothered that I’d shielded him.

A threat? he asked.

I’m not sure.

I sensed Luc and Lindsey move behind us. The weapon, whatever it was, kept moving, weaving through the crowd like a snake and sending goose bumps up and down my arms.

“Merit?” Luc asked.

The scene was perfectly innocent but for the lust that perfumed the air. For a moment I thought I’d imagined it, that I’d just misinterpreted the excitement for something more sinister.

But the feeling thrummed harder and louder, like the string on a bass had been plucked, sending uncomfortable vibrations through my chest. I caught movement, quick and malicious, in my peripheral vision and, when I looked back, caught eyes trained in Ethan’s direction.

“A weapon,” I said to Luc, gesturing toward the crowd where the magic lurked. “Get him into your car.”

They’d keep him safe, I told myself. That was the plan we’d worked out. But a plan was one thing, and real life was something else. Fear and anticipation mixed with the adrenaline that rose at the thought of a possible battle, and there was little doubt my eyes had silvered, a sign of vampire emotion.

Luc took Ethan’s arm, began to pull him away . . . and that was when the sound of gunfire filled the air.

“Go!” I screamed, shoving Luc and Ethan back and crouching low as a dark and shiny muscle car squealed forward through the darkness, scenting rubber into the air. The car hopped the curb, moved without hesitation toward the arch that marked the finish line.

Shots were fired from the car—two, then three. Humans screamed and dropped out of the way and toward cover; Luc and Lindsey moved Ethan back to Lindsey’s SUV.

I stepped directly between them and the vehicle. If the driver was aiming for Ethan, he’d have to go through me first. Literally and figuratively.

I let my fangs descend, locked my knees to keep them from shaking, and stared back at the car with all the ruthlessness I could muster. That’s not to say I wasn’t afraid—I was staring down a lot of horsepower and a driver with an agenda. But fear, I’d learned long ago, wasn’t an excuse.

Just like my existence wasn’t an excuse for the driver to stop the car. He raced forward, and I forced myself to stay where I was, even as my heart raced, even as I imagined the blow and waited for impact.

But I would be damned if he’d get through me.

He was close enough that I saw the whites of his eyes—then he wrenched the wheel to the side, skidding the car to a grinding halt, sending gravel into the air and waves of magic toward me.

The side of the car stopped inches away, blowing the bangs from my face and giving me a look at the driver through the open window. The eyes, the goatee, the ink.

It was the man who’d watched me in the crowd, the one Lindsey and I had thought was a fan. But his interest, apparently, wasn’t for me.

“If he knows what’s good for him,” the man said, his voice deep and lush, “he’ll stay in Chicago, and out of London.”

I’d expected vitriol about vampires being in Chicago, about our gall in holding an event on a public street, not the opposite threat. Since the GP was in London, the threat was obvious. The source wasn’t.

“Who are you? And why do you care what he does?”

“I’m the messenger, and he should heed the warning. If he doesn’t back off, he’ll regret it.”

He lifted the gun, the barrel trained on me, as if punctuating the threat. Just like his gaze, his hand was utterly steady. We stared at each other for a moment that stretched and lengthened like pulled taffy.

In that drawn moment, that slow interlude, I saw his finger move and felt the sudden heat, the concussion of air from the primer’s ignition. I spun to the ground, my hair whirling around me, fingertips grazing across cold, wet asphalt.

The bullet whizzed over my shoulder, high and to the left. It would have missed, even if I’d been standing.

The steady hand, the steady gaze, the ability to park that car on a dime, and he’d missed the shot?

I whipped my head around to look back at him again.

“Bang,” he mouthed, fangs glinting at the corners of his mouth.

With the ear-piercing shriek of rubber on asphalt, he peeled away and onto the road again.

Sirens exploded through the darkness as police cruisers stormed up the drive and after the car. And just like that, the chase was on.

A sorceress and her retinue of vampires—which included Jonah and the runners from Cadogan House—rushed toward me.

“Jesus, Merit!” Mallory put her hands on my arms, squeezed, looked me over. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I assured her, giving Jonah a nod, although my hands and knees shook with built-up adrenaline and fear. But I made myself keep standing. “I’m okay. What about Ethan? Where’s Ethan?”

“He’s fine,” Brody said. “They’re on their way back to the House. Luc took the long way home. Didn’t want to get stuck on the freeway.”

Where they’d have been sitting ducks. Good plan.

“And Malik?” I asked.

“At the House, and he’s fine, too. Kelley and Juliet are with him—and they aren’t letting him out of their sight.” They were the two remaining Cadogan guards, good and experienced. “Kelley said there’s been nothing unusual there. Maybe this was someone showing off?”

I made a noncommittal noise. This wasn’t a vampire showing off; this was a vampire trying to make a very specific point. “We’ll see,” I said.

Christine, a lithe and pretty vampire, stepped forward. She wore workout gear in vibrant shades of purple, and her sable hair was pulled into a perfect ponytail. Her makeup was also perfect despite the three-mile run; she looked like she’d just stepped out of an ad for VitaBite, Blood4You’s new line of vitamin-enhanced drinks.

“What should we do?” she asked me.

I glanced around. A few of the human spectators had been injured in the chaos, and Catcher and Jeff helped the CPD calm and stabilize them while waiting for the EMTs. And with Luc and Ethan gone, I figured that made me the Cadogan vampire in charge.

I gestured toward the human crowd. “Mallory, Brody, why don’t you give Catcher and Jeff a hand with the humans?”

Mallory nodded, squeezed my arm, and set off at a jog. Brody followed.

I looked back at the rest of the Cadogan vampires. They weren’t guards or staff, but House civilians. They needed to get to safety.

“For now,” I said, “until we figure out what’s going on, get back to the House. That’s the best option until Ethan gives us orders.”

At least I hoped it was the best option. But they agreed without argument, nodding and pulling off racing bibs as they headed for vehicles or the El.

That left Jonah and me alone together.

“Merit, what the fuck was that?”

“It was about the GP,” I said, looking up into his worried blue eyes. “The driver said Ethan had to stay in Chicago and out of London.”

“Jesus,” Jonah said, eyes wide. “Did you recognize the driver?”

“He was in the crowd—I saw him before the race. Vampire, no obvious accent, presumably someone who doesn’t want Ethan to challenge Darius. But he said he was just the messenger.”

“Because he works for Darius?”

“Maybe. Or for someone who has a vested interest in control of the GP—and doesn’t think Ethan would be sympathetic.” I scanned my mental list of the other eleven Houses’ Masters; the driver didn’t match any of them. But he did have one noticeable feature.

“The driver had a crescent-shaped tattoo near his left eye. That mean anything to you? Symbolize something vampirey?”

“Is ‘vampirey’ a word?”

I just looked at him.

“Sorry,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “You’re not the only one who uses sarcasm to cope. Unfortunate tendency.”

“My tendency isn’t unfortunate. And I’ll take that as a no.”

Jonah nodded. “That’s not a marker that’s familiar to me. There are some Rogue subgroups on the West Coast who use ink to mark their lack of affiliation.”

“Ironic.”

“Very. But they’re the only ones I know of. Anyway, I can check the RG archives. That’d be the way to go.”

“The RG has an archive?”

He rolled his eyes. “As partners go, you’re not terribly impressive.”

“Thanks, darling. I appreciate you, too.” But the comment hit home. Most RG partnerships were intimately close—physically and emotionally. I couldn’t offer that kind of relationship to Jonah, but I hadn’t been great with the business end of things, either. I always seemed to be dealing with some vampire drama or other.

“Don’t take it personally,” he said, knocking me playfully on the shoulder, a grin in his almond-shaped blue eyes. “We knew when you came on board that you’d be a different kind of guard.”

I blinked at him. “I really want to discuss that at length, but maybe at a more appropriate time.”

“You need to go back to the lighthouse,” Jonah said. “It’s past time.”

I couldn’t argue with that. The RG was headquartered in the lighthouse that stood sentinel at the harbor in Lake Michigan. In the several months I’d been an RG member, I’d visited only once.

“You have my word. Although it might be hard to get away right now, all things considered.”

Jonah’s phone rang. He pulled it out, checked the screen. “That’s Scott. I need to get back to the House. I’ll message you tomorrow.”

I nodded, watched him walk away.

“They lost the driver.”

I glanced behind me, found Catcher moving toward me from the group of bystanders. I didn’t mistake the grimness in his voice. “You’re kidding me.”

“Unfortunately not. He ditched the vehicle, and the CPD lost him on foot in Little Italy. They’re canvassing the neighborhood. Maybe they’ll get lucky.”

“Maybe,” I agreed, but I didn’t think so. He was a vampire, and probably stronger and faster than the uniforms.

“The forensic unit’s on the way,” he said. “They’ll check the car, grab the bullet casings, see if they can get fingerprints. Maybe they can match the weapon to another crime, get us an ID.”

I nodded. “Maybe. The driver was a vampire. He was here for Ethan. Had a warning to pass along,” I said, and told him what the driver had said.

Catcher’s brow knitted with concern. “Is Ethan safe?”

“Last I heard,” I said, but I pulled out my phone to check for an update and found the waiting text: EAGLE HAS LANDED.

“He’s home,” I confirmed, the band of tension across my shoulders easing just a bit.

“Well, that’s something. Good thing he was out of here before he could see you play chicken with a few thousand pounds of American-made steel.”

I grimaced. I wasn’t sure Ethan had missed my stand against oncoming traffic, but I was pretty sure I’d know the second I put a toe in the House again. He’d be furious if he’d seen.

On the other hand . . . “When your body is your only weapon, you use it.”

Catcher smiled, and there was a tiny gleam of pride in his eyes. He’d been my trainer before Ethan, the first man who’d taught me to stand, to fall, and to bluff.

“I couldn’t agree more. You did good.”

“I tried. But I’d rather have stopped him here than know he’s still out there, whoever he is, waiting to cause trouble.”

“You know how these things go, Merit. He’ll probably cause trouble again, and you’ll get your chance to square off again.”

That was exactly what I was afraid of.

Catcher, Jeff, and I stayed until the vampires had gone back to their Houses and the humans who’d been injured—six of them—had been taken care of. And then we answered the CPD’s questions. The detectives who interviewed us were polite but wary; they knew my grandfather, respected him and his long career in the CPD, but weren’t thrilled about supernatural violence spilling onto their streets.

Not that I could blame them. I was relieved to be back in my car and on my way back to the House.

Cadogan House was three stories of white stone, plus a basement of offices and training rooms. It sat in the midst of lush grounds in Chicago’s Hyde Park neighborhood, and the décor was as fancy as the vampires who filled it. Subtle colors, fine fabrics, gorgeous wood.

I parked in the basement—a gift I’d earned for driving a silver confection of a car—then headed upstairs to Ethan’s office. I found him waiting with Luc and Malik, the House’s three senior staff. Ethan and Luc still wore their running clothes and race medals. Malik, tall with pale green eyes that offset his dark skin and closely cropped hair, was the only one dressed in the Cadogan House uniform: a slim-fitting black suit, crisp button-down, no tie.

Luc and Malik were seated in the office’s sitting area. Arms crossed, Ethan was in the middle of the room, pacing its length. His gaze flashed back to mine, body stiffening as he looked me over, checked me for injuries. He exhaled when he realized I was whole, but that didn’t stop the imperious arch of his eyebrow or the burst of magic that lit through the room.

I guessed he’d seen my standoff.

“I’m fine,” I assured him, stepping inside the office and closing the door. “He drove off, led the CPD on a chase. Abandoned the car and got away on foot.”

He walked toward me, clamped his hands on my arms. I saw the battle in his eyes—fear warring with fury, pride with concern.

I’m fine, I silently assured him. I’m worried about you.

Christ, Merit. He moved his hands to the nape of my neck, pulling our bodies together, touching his lips to my forehead. We’ll discuss this at length when we don’t have an audience.

So I had that to look forward to.

He kissed me again, released me. When I realized my sudden dizziness wasn’t just the result of adrenaline and magic, I walked to the bar inset in the long wall of bookshelves and grabbed a bottle of Blood4You. I’d earned it.

I popped the cap, drank the blood in seconds. It wasn’t until I’d finished it that I realized the blood had a strange, piney aftertaste.

I glanced at the bottle, brows lifted when I saw that I’d just imbibed a bottle of Cantina Lime blood. Who was coming up with these flavors? Not a vampire with good taste, certainly.

I put the bottle in the recycling bin and glanced back at the group, which watched me with anticipation.

“Big night, Sentinel?” Luc asked with a smile.

“Long night,” I agreed, and sat in one of the empty chairs. I glanced at Ethan, who still watched me warily. “Six humans injured, half of those when people rushed to avoid the gunshots. Most of the injuries were minor. And as it turns out, the driver was a vampire with words to say—and a message to pass along to you.”

Ethan’s eyes widened, and he moved closer. “Oh?”

“You should stay in Chicago. Give up your plans for London. Otherwise, you’ll regret it.”

Fury flashed in Ethan’s eyes again. He wouldn’t have appreciated the message or the delivery.

“Someone doesn’t want you to challenge Darius,” Malik said.

“That list is undoubtedly long and distinguished,” Ethan said, but his voice was tight.

“Darius himself?” Malik asked, and Ethan shook his head.

“Darius is many things, but cowardly is not one of them. And only a coward would attack unarmed civilians in order to get to me.”

“In fairness,” I said, “I think he tried to get to you.”

Ethan’s look was bland. He wasn’t pleased by the reminder—or the fact that I’d been the one to step between them. “You’re likely correct,” he said. “And strategy or not, a phone call would have sufficed.”

“Any idea of the source?” Malik asked, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands linked in front of him.

Ethan made a vague sound. “Beyond the long and distinguished list? No.” He glanced at me. “No mention of specifics? Of who was sending the message?”

“None. Someone in Chicago, maybe, since they had someone on the ground, knew about the race?”

Ethan frowned. “Scott wouldn’t care. Morgan might, but this isn’t his style.”

Morgan Greer was the newish Master of Navarre House. Scott Grey was the Master of Grey House, and Jonah’s boss.

“I’d tend to agree,” Luc said, then glanced at me. “The driver look familiar?”

“No. He’s not a Master, or anybody I recognized.” I gave them the basic physical description, and he wasn’t familiar to them, either. “He did have a tattoo—small crescent moon near one eye. Does that ring a bell?”

Ethan and Malik shook their heads, looked to Luc. “No, but we can search for it. Maybe it signifies something. Group symbol, maybe.”

“Do that,” Ethan said. “And check the tapes. See if the car—or the driver—has been near the House.”

Luc nodded, and a heavy silence fell. “Do you want to make a response to the threat?”

The unspoken question was easy enough to catch: Are you sure you want to go through with this? Stay on this path, which is clearly fraught with danger?

“No response,” Ethan said. “We do not, as they say, negotiate with terrorists.”

Luc stood, resignation in his features, and scrubbed his hands through his curly locks. He’d been supportive of his Master’s candidacy, but less thrilled that his colleague, his friend, was putting himself in danger to lead an organization no one respected. But that, I guessed, was part of the reason Ethan was doing it: to make it the organization it could be.

“You’ll need a guard when you leave the House.”

Ethan didn’t turn around. “No.” His tone brooked no argument. “We knew there was a possibility someone would make an attempt.”

“And now they have,” Luc said. “So we step up our game.”

“This won’t be the first or the last threat against me.”

“No,” Luc said, “but most of those threats don’t involve gunshots in public places and playing chicken with our Sentinel.”

Magic rose in the room, peppery with anger. Ethan turned back, his eyes as cold as emerald ice. He got testy when faced with fears he couldn’t manage, couldn’t handle with strength, intelligence, political savvy. “You think I’m not cognizant of her welfare?”

Luc fixed his gaze on Ethan. “I know you’re cognizant of her welfare. And I trust that she could handle herself because of the above-referenced chicken playing. We weren’t sure if the GP was paying attention. It looks like they are. We have to be more careful. You have to be more careful.”

“I’m still in the room,” I pointed out. “Let’s not discuss me in the third person.” But they were too absorbed in their own struggles to notice.

“Merit is usually with me when I leave the House,” Ethan said.

“Then you’ll usually have nothing to complain about.” Luc’s voice, usually full of humor, was tight with concern.

“I am Master of this House.”

“I don’t think we’re confused about your position, Liege.”

“Hey,” I said, stepping between them, arms extended in case either of them tried to do something stupid. “We have enemies enough outside the House. Yeah, this situation sucks. But let’s not make it worse with infighting.”

“Yes,” Ethan said. “Let’s not.”

Luc strode to the door. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Do that,” Ethan said, granting permission, but Luc was already in the hallway.

“He feels he’s to blame,” Malik said.

“That’s idiotic.”

Malik’s brows lifted. “Perhaps. But it is his responsibility to keep you safe. You aren’t being especially cooperative.”

Ethan just looked at him.

Malik gave me a long-suffering look that I appreciated more than I should have. “Talk to him,” he said, then followed Luc out the door and closed it behind him.

I glanced back at Ethan, expecting him to be staring daggers at the door Malik had shut with a surprising amount of force and irritation.

His eyes were flaming shards of emerald . . . but they were directed at me.

“What did I do?”

He gave me a pointed look, walked to the bar, and poured amber liquid from a crystal decanter into a short glass. He sipped it wordlessly, his eyes still on mine, and still fierce.

It wasn’t often that Ethan needed time to compose himself. The fact that he needed it now nearly had me sitting down. He loved me, I’d no doubt. But no one liked to face down an angry vampire.

And when he did speak, his words were cold and short. “You stepped in front of me. Correction: You stepped in front of a racing car.”

I paused, choosing my response carefully. “It’s my job to protect this House, even if that means putting myself between you and danger. I stand Sentinel.”

“I am well aware, Merit, of your position in this House. I won’t have you take blows intended for me.”

“You took a stake that was meant for me,” I pointed out, and I’d grieved for months when he’d been gone. “I’m not going to stand by and let someone take a shot at you.”

He cursed gutturally in what I thought was Swedish.

“If you’re going to yell at me, do it in English, please. I’d like to understand the insult so I can frame an appropriately pithy response.”

He looked back at me, eyebrow arched, but one corner of his mouth twitched. It was a good thing he appreciated sarcasm, since it was usually my first response.

“I am Master of this House,” Ethan said. “It’s my job to protect my vampires.”

“Respectfully, Ethan, stop reminding us of your job. We know you’re Master. We don’t doubt it. We do exactly what we’re supposed to do—protect you.”

“You’re my world,” he said, putting down the glass. “You’re mine to protect.”

“And I’d say the same thing about you.”

His eyes went hot again, and he stared back at me from across the room, magic roiling off him in hot waves. “Will you stop being so goddamned stubborn?”

I kept my eyes on his, my tone even. “No. Will you?”

“I want to keep you safe.”

“And I want to keep you safe. I did keep you safe,” I pointed out. “And still no thank-you for that.”

Ethan pushed his hands through his hair and walked to the other end of the room, where he stared out the giant picture window, shoulders stiff. Before dawn, automatic shutters would come down, leaving the office in vampire-friendly darkness. But for now, they offered him a view of the House’s grounds.

He stood silently for a moment before glancing back at me. “I’m afraid you’ll be hurt. Afraid you’ll be targeted.”

“Why would they target me?”

“Because I love you. Because love, to some, is a weakness. A pressure point. Because I would give up anything for you, including the GP. And because I don’t mean to give up either.”

I went to him without hesitation, stepped into the arms he extended.

“I love you,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

“I love you, too. But love or not, my job is to protect you.”

“Then maybe I should reassign you to the library.”

I laughed. “Sullivan, we crossed that bridge a long time ago. You’ve made me—trained me—and there’s no going back.”

He humphed.

“Still waiting on that thank-you,” I cheekily said, since we’d broken the ice.

He smiled, rubbed a thumb along my jaw. “Did you know your eyes darken when you’re serious? From cloudy sky to deep, dark ocean.” His gaze went absent as he scanned them, his green eyes tracking across my gray-blues. “So much there. Dedication. Honor. Love.”

He was skilled enough to flatter, but the depth of emotion in his eyes told me he was being sincere. My blood began to hum at the passion in his eyes, from the soft kiss he pressed to my lips.

“That’ll do for thanks,” I quietly said, pulling the reins on my hormones.

“Oh, Sentinel.” He put his arms around me again, enveloping me in comfort and his crisp-cotton cologne, then rested his head atop mine. “What am I going to do with you?”

“For starters, a shower.”

“I didn’t mean that exactly.”

I leaned back, gave him my sultriest expression. “Oh,” I said. “But I believe you did.”