Blood Games

Chapter Twenty-one IRON MAN

My eyes opened again, and dark hair swam into focus. My head seemed to be spinning on my neck, or maybe that was just the room. “What did you do to me?”

“Apologies for the intrigue and nerve pinch,” Lakshmi said, standing in front of me. “That seemed the best way to transport you without incident.”

“Transport me? Where the hell am I?”

“The testing location. An unused warehouse complex on the south side of the city.”

Lakshmi stepped aside, let me get a look at my surroundings. I was in a room with brick walls and a worn wooden floor. I faced an open doorway, the door heavy and metal and set on giant brass hinges. I was in a simple wooden chair, my arms tied behind me. I pulled, moved forward to break free, but their hold was tight. The sensation made me panicky, but it also woke me from my stupor.

“What the hell is going on? Why am I here?”

“We find most vampires expect the physical testing will pit them, solo, against some obstacle. We find that’s not the best way to test a potential head of the GP. Their job, of course, is not to stand alone against enemies, but to lead their soldiers into battle. To strategize. To partner.”

I struggled against my bonds again. “Where is he?”

“Nearly here,” she said, without elaboration. “Your goal is to find him and escape before your time is up.”

My heart began to thud louder. “What time? How much time do we have?”

She pulled a long box from an interior jacket pocket, slid it open, and held out a very long pink-tipped match.

I pulled against the ropes, the chair bouncing beneath me. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. The floors are wooden. This place will go up like a tinderbox.”

She struck the match against the side of the box, and the flame bounced orange and blue at the tip. She watched it burn for a moment, then looked back at me.

“Becoming head of the Greenwich Presidium is the most important position a vampire can hold, Merit. He or she will control the fates of thousands of vampires. Must protect thousands of vampires, even at great personal cost. That is not a job to be undertaken lightly, or without a full understanding of the sacrifices. He has every opportunity to find you and get you out without danger. He must be strong, cunning, creative, all while fearing for your safety. That is no more than we ask of every GP leader every day.”

The match still in hand, she stepped outside before settling her gaze on me. “I wish you and Ethan luck, Merit, and hope to see you soon.”

It didn’t matter to me that her justifications were logical. I was scared—for me and him—and I was pissed. “You’re a psychopath!” I yelled out, pulling against the chair again. “The entire GP is made up of sadists!”

And since she’d been the one who’d asked me to convince Ethan to run for the position, I screamed out a few more choice phrases that ripped through every curse in my arsenal.

She only smiled politely, then pulled the door closed behind her. It was enormous and thick, overlaid with a metal plate and held in place by large brass bolts.

“She’s going to set us on fire,” I said, glancing around the room. How, exactly, was I supposed to get out of this?

I tried to reach Ethan telepathically, but he didn’t respond. Too far away, I guessed. The telepathy didn’t cover long distances.

I forced myself to breathe, to stay calm, to think. The only way I was going to ignore the panic attack was to focus on one small task at a time. The first step was to get the hell out of this chair, and out of this room.

The ropes that bound me were old-fashioned hemp, which chafed against my wrists. They were tied together, and to the chair, but the chair wasn’t fastened to the floor.

“Then that’s the first to go,” I said, shifting my weight to rock gently back, then forth, then back, then forth again, until I leaned forward enough to get my feet solidly on the ground, and the back of the chair in the air.

That put me half standing, bent over, with a chair tied to my back. I shuffled to the wall, stood perpendicular to it, and prepared to smash.

“I really hope this isn’t aspen,” I murmured, closed my eyes, rotated from my hips, and slammed the chair into the wall.

Wood shattered and splintered, and my elbow—which also made contact—sang with pain that radiated up my arm. But the chair had cracked, and I’d take the victory.

I cursed like a sailor against the pain but turned my face away and smashed one more time. I felt my bonds loosen as the chair broke into pieces. One end of the rope hung down, and I stepped on it, kept stepping on rope until I’d pulled the rest of the tangled mess to the floor.

My arms were chafed and my shoulders ached, but I’d survive. I rolled them out, tried to reach Ethan again.

Sentinel? Thank God. Where are you?

My racing heart slowed, just a little. He must have arrived at the building—and within telepathy range. In a room. I was tied to a chair but got free. The door’s bolted.

I’ve got you beat, he said, and even his psychic voice sounded stressed. I was tied to a table—Lakshmi didn’t take my dagger, thankfully—and now I’m staring down a very burly River troll.

The building shook, and I had to hope that wasn’t the result of Ethan being thrown about by his nemesis. River trolls were burly men and women who made their homes beneath the bascule bridges that crossed the Chicago River, and helped the nymphs enforce their rulings.

And in case you didn’t know, he grunted, Lakshmi torched the building.

Oh, I know. She lit the damn match in here. I’m going to punch her in that pretty little face if I survive this.

We will survive it, and we’ll both punch her in her pretty little face.

I’d gotten out of the chair, linked to Ethan. The door was my next task. I tried the obvious first—wiggling the latch, bumping a shoulder against it to test its nudge-ability, trying to pry the bar out of the hinges with a piece of the splintered chair.

That was five minutes wasted, because I was not getting through the door.

I closed my eyes, forced myself to think.

I didn’t have a better thought, but I did feel a breeze behind me. I looked back, spied a small and narrow window. I ran to it, looked outside. It was a long way down, which I could handle, but I was afraid that if I got out, I wouldn’t be able to get back in. And that put Ethan even more at risk.

I was preparing to make another run at the door when a wave of hot air flew up from the cracks in the floor.

The cracks in the floor. Could that have been more obvious? If I couldn’t get through the door, I’d go through the floor.

I grabbed the biggest remaining chunk of the chair, a hefty piece of the seat, and walked carefully around the room, looking for the bounciest boards. That award went to a spot near the middle of the room, where it looked like water had pooled and rotted the boards from the top down.

I lifted the wedge over my head, slammed it down with a giant crack that sent dust and particles of wood into the air.

One more crack, then two, and the seat burst through the boards, leaving a hole just wide enough to fit the edge of the seat. I wedged it into the hole, stood up, and pulled until boards cracked and split, then pulled up large splinters of wood until the hole was large enough for me to fit through.

I looked back, grabbed the rope, wound it around my arm just in case, then put my fingers on the edge of the hole, leaned forward until my torso was out. The room below was the same size and materials as mine, but the door was open.

Done, I thought, then levered the rest of my torso through the hole, flipping forward so I hung by my arms, and dropped to the floor.

I ran through the door, which led to an enormous room marked by white columns and stacks of dilapidated office furniture.

Ethan emerged from a room on the other end of the space, dirty and showing off an impressive shiner. He was also grinning like a maniac.

We jogged toward each other, met in the middle, embraced. He kissed me good and hard.

“It really wouldn’t have been fair for you to sit this one out,” he said, with sparkling eyes. He was in surprisingly good spirits. Maybe this really did appeal to his alpha-male mentality.

“Sure it would have, because I don’t want to be in the GP. What do you think is next?”

I needn’t have bothered to ask. Wood cracked on the other side of the room, and a giant timber split and dropped through the ceiling, crashing to the floor ten feet in front of us—and then crashing with enough force to rip through the floor. Smoke and sparks poured through the fissures above and below us.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Ethan said, grabbing my hand and moving toward a large bank of windows on the other side of the room.

But a shadow stepped into our path. He was large, six feet tall, with broad shoulders and an upturned nose. River troll number two.

I actually knew one troll, a man named George whom I’d met at one of the open houses my grandfather had held for the city’s supernatural communities. Unfortunately, this wasn’t George.

He walked toward us with heavy footsteps.

“Thoughts? Recommendations?” I asked, the question mooted when the troll struck out, tossing a hand that sent Ethan skittering across the ground.

My heart stopped until Ethan blinked, climbed to his feet, shook his head.

I looked back at the troll. “That was rude.” I spun and executed a flying scissor kick that would have sent a vampire flying but landed dully on the River troll’s abdomen. As I landed, he took a stiff step backward, regained his footing, then moved forward again.

This time the slap was for me. I turned my body to the side to reduce the impact, but pain still lit up my arm when he made contact, knocking me to the ground.

But he turned back toward Ethan, his apparent target.

The troll lurched forward, and this time Ethan dodged him, spinning to kick the troll in the butt and send him forward. Trolls were strong, but they weren’t especially nimble. Ethan was both, and he used it to his advantage. The troll stumbled, hit the ground, whacked his head on the corner of an old desk, but after a moment, rose to his feet again.

He glanced back, rushed Ethan again, correctly guessed that Ethan’s feint to the left had been just that. He aimed low, wrapped his arms around Ethan’s knees, sending them both to the floor with a crash.

They rolled once, then twice, sending up smoke and sparks with each revolution. Ethan crawled free, kicked back when the troll tried to grab his feet again. Ethan grabbed an office chair, nailed the troll on the back, and sent him sprawling again. His chest still bobbed, but he didn’t get up.

Ethan wiped blood from his forehead with the back of his hand, then glanced at me. “And I think, Sentinel, that will do for now.”

He’d just taken a step when a trapdoor opened beneath him, swallowing him and sending smoke and sparks billowing into the room.

“Ethan!” I screamed, dropping to the ground at the edge of the door. “Ethan, you are not allowed to die again!”

I didn’t breathe again until I felt his fingers, straining at the rim of the square gap the trapdoor had created.

He reached up and I grabbed his arm, planting my feet to try to pull him back. But his hand was slick with sweat and soot and he began to slip from my fingers. Fear lanced through me.

“Give me your other hand, Ethan. You’re slipping!”

He cursed, shifted his weight, trying to swing his body up to give me his other hand . . . when he slipped forward another inch, and then he was moving and my hand was empty.

My mouth opened in a scream, but suddenly the troll was there, reaching out, grabbing Ethan by the shirt. With a grunt and shower of wood and smoke, the troll hauled him out, tossing him onto the floor of the room. Ethan lay on his back, face streaming with blackened sweat, coughed vigorously.

He climbed to his feet, looked at the troll, extended a hand. “I appreciate that.”

The troll nodded. “You beat me fair and square. That’s all she said I had to do.”

Ethan coughed again. “Now that we’ve all fulfilled our bargains, perhaps we should leave?”

Together, the three of us carefully picked our way across the room, coughing and dodging showers of sparks that poured down from the ceiling above us, and fountains that burst through the floor every time the fire took another bite of it.

We reached the door in the room’s far corner, the EXIT sign still glowing above it, and pushed.

Nothing happened. The door didn’t budge, even an inch. Ethan rammed it with a shoulder, wincing, but tried again.

“She probably welded the damn doors shut,” Ethan said, kicking it in frustration, and with enough force to fell a shape-shifter—but not to even rattle a very inappropriately labeled door.

“I will try,” the troll said, stepping forward.

We moved aside, watching as he rammed his impressive bulk into the door once, then twice, then a third time. When blood began to speckle through his pale gray shirt, I put a hand on his arm. “Maybe let’s try a different option.”

“Window,” Ethan said, and we followed him to the perpendicular wall, which was marked by a horizontal band of windows.

Ethan dug through debris, pulled out what looked like a pipe, and smashed through the glass to allow us egress.

I looked back at the troll. “If you jump, will you be okay?”

He walked to the window, peered down. “Long way down.”

“It is.”

“I can make it,” he said, and, without hesitation, climbed onto the ledge and jumped. Ethan and I peered out, watched as he hit the ground with a thud that shook the entire building and left a crater in the ground that sent up a plume of smoke.

I stretched out the window, struggling to see anything in the darkness, and holding my breath until I saw him rise and walk away.

“He’s clear,” I said.

“Then let’s move, Sentinel. Because I believe we’re running out of time.”

I climbed onto the ledge in stiletto boots, moved to the side so Ethan could climb out, too.

I made the mistake of looking down, and vertigo wracked me. It was only the iron grip of Ethan’s fingers on my forearm that kept me from tilting forward into darkness. Vampires could jump, sure. But I didn’t think falling face-first was the same thing.

“Three . . . two . . . one,” Ethan said, and as the door burst open and flame rushed us, we took the step.

Time slowed as the ground moved slickly up to meet us, and we landed with our hands still together. My knees wobbled from the impact, but I stood straight again and, as timbers crashed to the ground around us, hauled ass to get away from the fire raging behind us.

Malik, Bennett, and Lakshmi waited twenty yards away. Relieved magic enveloped us as Malik jumped forward to embrace us both.

“Where are Nicole and Sarah?” Ethan asked.

Lakshmi kept her gaze on the warehouse, which mooted the very venomous stare I offered her. “They aren’t out yet.”

Ethan’s eyes widened, and he cast a glance at the building. The structure was enormous—eight stories of sheer brick walls, nearly as long as a football field. The roof over the end of the building where I’d been held was already falling in.

“The building won’t be standing much longer,” Ethan said.

“She’ll want to finish it herself,” Bennett insisted.

“She’ll die and won’t care if she finishes it. Besides, I’ve already won. She has nothing to lose.”

Bennett looked nervously back at the building. To save his Master’s life, or her pride? That was the question.

“If you go,” Lakshmi said, “points will be deducted, as you’ll have interfered with the test.”

“Lakshmi, respectfully, you can fuck your test. If your GP believes a vampire is worth more because he leaves his colleagues to die, then it’s even less reputable than I imagined.” Ethan looked back at me. “I’m going back for her. Stay here.”

Panic rose, hot and suffocating. “You’re not going back in there. At least, not without me.”

“I’m going,” he said, in a voice that brooked no argument.

“This isn’t the time to play Master of the House.”

He looked back at me, his expression fierce. “This is my test, and I will finish what remains of it, whether they score it or not. You will not risk your life any further than it’s already been risked tonight. If you step one foot toward that building, there’ll be hell to pay. Malik, keep an eye on her.”

“Liege.”

Ethan turned to face me and pressed a hard kiss to my lips. “Stay here.”

But I was as stubborn as him, and I tried to follow him until Malik’s hand clamped around my arm. I threw my gaze to his. “You cannot be serious.”

“This isn’t about you. It’s about him. It’s his battle, and he needs to fight it.”

“To the death? Over her? She tried to kill him.”

“He is a better vampire than she is, but he isn’t sure of it. Let him prove it to himself. You know that he needs that, Merit. To know that he is who he believes—and not the monster others would try to make of him.”

I moistened my lips, looking at Malik, then the building into which Ethan and Bennett raced headlong. I didn’t want him moving back into danger . . . but Malik was absolutely right. We knew who Ethan was. But Ethan needed to prove it to himself.

“He will survive this,” Malik said. “Trust him.”

“I do trust him.” It was Nicole I didn’t trust. “And you’d better hope he’ll be okay,” I said, training my gaze on Malik. “If anything happens to him, I will gut you like a trout and not feel bad about it.”

He managed a small smile. “I’d look forward to the challenge, Sentinel.”

And speaking of which, I had unfinished business. I walked to Lakshmi, planted myself in front of her, forcing her gaze to mine.

With obvious reluctance, she shifted her gaze from the building to me. “Yes?”

“You are responsible for him,” I told her. “And I don’t care about your excuses, or your justifications, or whether you think you’re serving all vampires by sacrificing the few. I don’t care who you are, or what position you’re in. This is complete, unmitigated bullshit.”

Her eyes flattened with insult, and she opened her mouth to respond. But I had no interest in whatever she might say. With fire in my eyes, I walked away before she could respond and before I made good on my promise to punch her. I was so angry, so afraid, that the risk I’d do it just to feel some other emotion was too high.

I walked back to Malik, whose eyes shined with curiosity.

“Everything all right?”

I fixed my gaze on the warehouse. “Just setting the record straight.”

His fingers found mine, squeezed.

The windows on the first floor burst after two minutes had passed. I knew the time, because I counted each second in the cadence I’d learned as a child—one one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, four one thousand—waiting for him to appear again.

We ducked as glass flew, but I still felt the prick of shards that touched skin not covered by my leathers.

The second-floor windows burst at three minutes, flames shooting through the building’s husk like they were reaching for us, trying to draw us back in.

“He has thirty seconds,” I said, without bothering to look back at Malik. “He can have his pride, but I’m not going to let him kill himself.”

Malik kept his eyes on the building, casting back and forth across the facade as he searched for Ethan. “I was only going to give him fifteen.”

Timbers creaked and lurched ominously, the same sounds I imagined passengers might hear on a ship before it split and disappeared beneath the water.

“Fuck it,” I said, and started forward. More windows burst, and I covered my head with my arms as glass fell to the ground around me like snow.

Several figures emerged.

I’d seen Ethan walk through smoke and ash before, emerge through a cloud of magic and fire. We’d been lovers then, when I’d thought him dead. But we hadn’t loved. Not like this. Not like we did now. I’d grieved when he was gone, but this would have killed me. Because now he was my eternity.

My smoky, sooty boyfriend had never looked so good.

He carried Sarah in his arms. Nicole limped along behind them with Bennett’s help, holding one arm stiffly at her side.

We all flinched as an enormous crack lit the air, and the building’s roof crumpled from the middle, falling inside and bringing down half the building with it. Smoke, dust, and debris poured around us. Supernaturals had destroyed yet another building. But everyone was alive.

Ethan was alive.

He placed Sarah carefully on the ground. “Smoke inhalation,” he said, stepping away again so Bennett and Nicole could attend to her.

I strode to him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him fiercely.

“That was the dumbest and bravest and most amazing thing I’ve ever seen anyone do. And if you ever do anything like that again, I’ll kill you myself.”

Lakshmi moved toward us and didn’t mince words. “Your score will be reduced for interfering. Hers will be reduced for failing to finish.”

Ethan looked unconcerned by the pronouncement. “We all must act according to the dictates of our consciences. I have done so. You must do so as well.”

Lakshmi walked away, pulled out her phone. When she was gone, Nicole walked closer, and there was no mistaking the befuddlement on her face.

“You helped me.”

“I believed you could use a hand.”

Her clothes were singed, her face sooty, her hair coated with ash. And she just kept staring at him, as if she was reevaluating hundreds of years of history.

“We’re competitors.”

“We are,” Ethan agreed. “But we’re also colleagues. And at one time, Nicola, we were friends. I won’t take your immortality in order to prove a point.”

My love for him—my respect for him—blossomed like a spring rose, filling my chest with love and utter pride that he was mine.

“So I see.” Nicole swallowed hard but held out a hand.

He shook her hand, nodded, and when that was done, Nicole and Bennett helped Heart House’s Sentinel into the waiting car.

I walked back to Lakshmi, called out her name.

“Yes?” she asked, when she glanced back.

“When you knocked me out and brought me here, you interrupted me. I had information for you: Some of the money stolen from the American Houses was transferred to a Swiss account registered to Ronald Weatherby. I believe you’ll find he’s a British herbalist who worked on the obelisk but probably wasn’t told what it would be used for. Find him, interview him, ask him who paid him for his services. That will be the vampire who magicked and manipulated Darius. Now,” I said, flicking a bit of ash from the sleeve of her jacket, then smiling at her again. “Figure that into your score.”

Her mouth opened, closed. I gave her a jaunty salute, and walked back toward Ethan.

Once again, he showered while I searched for the right words to say. Tonight was no different, except that we’d showered together. I rubbed at the oily soot that stained my skin, while he washed my hair, a habit he’d apparently come to enjoy.

My fingers were wrinkled by the time we finally stepped from the shower, pulled on clothes. Ethan settled on his typical favorite—emerald green silk pajama bottoms that rode low on his hips. I’m fairly certain he wore them as a kind of dare, a challenge for me to resist him. But I had words to say, so I managed.

I opted for plaid shorts with a Cadogan “C” embroidered on the leg and a matching tank. If he expected me to ogle his abs, he might as well do a little ogling of my legs.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“Starving, actually. And you must be, too.”

“My appetite is coming back.” He picked up his phone. “I’ll ask Margot to send something up, and Malik to hold down the fort. We can spend the rest of the evening here. I think we deserve a bit of quiet time together. And besides—you owe me a dinner, as I recall.”

I managed not to make a comment about frighteningly fancy food. He was right; I did owe him. “I think that sounds magnificent.” But as he checked his phone, his shoulders tensed.

“Ethan?” I prompted.

“We made the final ballot.” He looked up at me, awe in his eyes. “Me, Nicole, Danica. Lakshmi didn’t fail us after all. She gave us point deductions, but even with that we made the ballot. Granted, we’re the bottom two on the ballot,” he said with a chuckle, “but we’re there. The other Houses will vote tonight. That means we’ll know shortly after dusk tomorrow.”

I walked to him, put my hands on his face. “Whatever happens, we are proud of you. So incredibly proud of you, for what you did and who you are.”

He pulled me against his body, already hard and ready, and kissed me, tongue probing and my body going immediately hot, but I took a regrettable step backward and closed my eyes as I sought control. If he touched me, we’d both be lost.

“Wait,” I said, opening my eyes again. “There are things we need to talk about. Or things I’d like to say.”

He watched me carefully, took a step back, crossed his arms. That only seemed to accentuate his flat abs and hip muscles even more, but I dragged my gaze to his face.

“All right, Sentinel. Go ahead.”

“Maybe let’s sit down.”

I felt the jarring spike of his magic, but moved to the sitting room, sat down on the couch, tucking one leg beneath me.

He looked decidedly skeptical but followed me over and took a seat, arching an arm over the back. “You have my attention.”

“I was wild with fear tonight that I’d lose you again. But you came out alive. And not just alive—victorious. Regardless the points or the vote, or whatever happens here, you won. You had a choice: You could have left Nicole there. You could have taken the victory and walked away. But that’s not who you are. You saved her. She couldn’t make you an asshole, despite everything she tried to put you through.”

I felt his shuddering sigh, and he put a hand on my cheek. “How did you suddenly become so wise?”

“I had a good teacher.”

“Thank you, Merit.”

“I actually meant Amit,” I said with a grin. “But you were a really good teacher, too.”

“Flattering Amit will get you nowhere with me, Sentinel.”

There was a knock at the door. Ethan rose, checked the peephole, and when he was sure of our security, opened the door.

Margot wheeled in a cart topped with silver domes that smelled deliciously of meat. With much amusement, I watched her eyes drop and widen as she took in Ethan’s scantily clad form. But she sucked it up, pulled off the silver domes.

“Liege, Merit. Dinner is served.”

I braced myself for fish stuffed with more fish, or a mousse of meat. But the meal that stared back from gleaming white plates was perfectly normal. Bacon cheeseburgers with hand-cut fries and tumblers of chocolate milk shakes.

He smiled at me. “I decided for our award dinner we might have a meal that suited us both.”

“I’ve never loved you more.”

“Are you talking to me, Margot, or the burgers?”

“Yes,” I said, and pulled up a chair as she flipped out the sides of the cart to make a round table.

When she crouched to stow the plate covers on the cart’s bottom shelf, she looked back at me, mouth and eyes wide. She mouthed, “Hubba-hubba,” and gave me a very bawdy wink before disappearing out the door again.

“Never let it be said I’m not willing to sacrifice for my Sentinel.”

“Nobody doubted it,” I said, and ate a fry to prove just that.

I had to give him props. The dinner was absolutely delicious. Margot had even thought to bring dessert—chocolate cheesecake neatly sliced on two small plates, accompanied by a drizzle of raspberry sauce and a fresh sprig of mint.

“I believe there’s something you’ll need, Sentinel.”

Ethan slid from his chair, dropped to one knee on the carpet.

My mind had to race to keep up, but my heart pounded madly.

Ethan looked up at me, grinned. “That thing, of course, is this.” He held up a small dessert fork. “You dropped your fork, Sentinel.”

My blood pounded in my ears. I stood up, swatted his arms with slaps. “You are a jerk.”

He roared with laughter. “Ah, Sentinel. The look on your face.” He doubled over with laughter. “Such terror.”

I kept swatting. “At the thought of marrying you, you pretentious ass.”

He roared again, then picked me up and carried me to the bed. “My pretentions are well earned, Sentinel.”

“You have got to stop doing that.”

“I can’t. It’s hilarious.”

Only a man would think fake proposals were so funny. “It’s nothing near hilarious. It’s several thousand light-years from hilarious.”

He dropped me onto the duvet, covered his body with mine, nipped at my lip, then trailed kisses to his favorite spot on my neck. “Let’s see, my Sentinel, just how hilarious I can be.”

I’d been right.

There was nothing hilarious about it.