Blood Games

Chapter Three EVERYDAY MAGIC

We shared the Master’s apartments on the House’s third floor. A sitting room, bedroom, bathroom, and gigantic closet large enough to be a room itself. It was like a permanent spa retreat: beautiful, luxurious, scented faintly like cologne and hothouse flowers.

I walked into the bathroom and wasted no time peeling off my clothes and dropping them on the floor, leaving me naked but for the Cadogan pendant around my neck.

The bathroom was colossal, with a lot of warm stone and a giant soaking tub. But it was the shower that I wanted, with ample steam and water. I set the temperature of the various sprays, waited until the water was near boiling, and stepped inside.

The sensation was delectable. Every muscle relaxed, goose bumps of pleasure racing along my skin. And when Ethan stepped behind me, naked and tall and impressively aroused, things only improved from there.

But that didn’t staunch my humor.

“Oh, François,” I breathily said. “You’ll have to hurry. My boyfriend will be back soon.”

Ethan grunted and slipped his arms around mine, pulling him tight against my body. “My desire is impatient,” he said in a French accent that was surprisingly believable. “It will not wait, and damn your boyfriend.”

I turned to face him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and caught his bottom lip gently between my teeth. “Then by all means, François, let’s get to it.”

Wrapped in a thick, white robe, I emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later decidedly more relaxed than I’d gone in.

But I s topped in the doorway, scenting the air.

“Something wrong?” Ethan asked, stepping behind me, his voice low. I felt the rise of his magic as he awaited my response.

“Hardly.” I followed my nose into the sitting room, found on a side table a tray bearing silver-domed plates, bottles of Blood4You, cups of fruit, and gold-wrapped chocolates. I lifted one of the domes, found a set of folded tortillas spilling with fragrant, spicy pork.

Suddenly starving, I glanced back at Ethan, who watched me with amusement.

“You ordered dinner.”

“I expected you’d be starving,” Ethan said. “So I asked Margot to bring this up.”

“Why do people always think I’m hungry?”

“Because you’re always hungry.”

“Well, I did run three miles today.”

“Hardly a formidable exertion for a vampire.”

“Exertion enough.” I plucked up a plate, bottle, and silverware and carried them to the sitting area, where I took a seat and began to nosh.

The tortilla was delicate; the pork, as expected, was delicious. Margot was an amazing cook.

But then my smile faded, and mortification colored my cheeks. “Margot brought this in while we were having sex.”

Ethan smirked. “Probably.”

I closed my eyes. I was not an exhibitionist and had no interest in other Novitiates hearing anything of my intimate moments with Ethan.

“Sentinel, the vampires of this House are not naive. I strongly suspect they know what goes on behind these doors.”

Since we’d shaken the House’s foundation with sex and magic, that was undoubtedly true. “Still,” I said, but managed another bite of dinner, my appetite unburdened by embarrassment.

Ethan sat down beside me, plate and bottle in hand, then flicked something beneath the coffee table. With a low hum, a portion of the table lifted smoothly up on hinges to meet the plate he held out. He sat it down, then whipped the napkin into his lap.

I stared in amazement. “How long has it done that?”

“For the entirety of its existence.”

I gave him a dry look that he ignored, but he flipped the notch on my side of the coffee table. Like magic, the table on my side lifted as well.

“Magic,” I said, inordinately happy that the fancy piece of European furniture turned into a TV tray.

“I am a man of many talents.”

I grinned, arranged my plate on the raised surface. “And apparently some of them don’t require nudity.”

“Har-har.”

A peaceful silence fell, and we ate quietly for a few minutes. But there was still a thread of tension in the air.

“You’ll have to talk to Luc,” I said.

“He’ll be sullen.”

I smiled, speared a chunk of pineapple. “He’s already sullen. It will only get worse if you treat him like he’s not equipped to handle this. He’s captain of your guards, after all. Just go down there and talk to him.”

He looked up, staring blankly into the room, and sighed.

I pierced a grape, held it up for him. “Fruit?”

“Somehow that makes me uncomfortable.”

I bit it toothily.

“As does that,” he said. “Perhaps we should change the subject.”

“All right,” I said. “What’s new in Masterdom?”

“Masterdom?”

“You know,” I said, gesturing with a fork. “All of this.”

He smiled lightly. “Well, our portfolio is underperforming. I’d prefer a return much higher than we’re getting right now. But I can move things around a bit, remedy that.”

“The House will appreciate it.”

“Not the House’s portfolio,” he said. “Ours.”

I stiffened.

Ethan chuckled. “It hasn’t escaped my attention, Sentinel, that you cringe every time I mention our future.”

“I don’t cringe. I only cringe when you pretend-propose.” He had a penchant for going down on bended knee—and straightening a hem or helping me with a shoe. “Nobody finds that amusing.”

“I find it excessively amusing. You do realize, don’t you, that the proposal won’t always be fake?”

I looked up at him, found there was no mistaking the earnestness in his eyes. We’d been Master and Sentinel for nearly a year, but we’d been a couple for only a handful of months. It didn’t seem to matter to Ethan; he was utterly sure of me even after so little time.

Ethan sipped from his Blood4You. “I love you, Merit. You are my future, and I intend to make certain you—and the rest of the world—know that, when the time is right. Why does it surprise you so much?”

I struggled to put the emotion into words. “It’s not surprise at you. It’s not doubt. It’s just—it’s just blossomed so fast. Four hundred years of dating, and you’ve made up your mind about me so quickly.” That didn’t even touch on the fact we’d been prophesied to have a child together—the first vampire child in history.

Something in Ethan’s eyes darkened, shifted. Not for very long—but for a split second, there was a cloud across his eyes. Because I’d mentioned his past? I knew there’d been women before, just as he’d known I’d dated. Once upon a time, I’d walked in on him with one of them, his former Consort, which had once been an official position in the House . . . a position he’d offered to me.

As if a breeze had blown it away, the shadow passed, and his eyes flamed green again.

“I made up my mind because we fit,” he said, reaching out to take my hand, to squeeze it. “You make me better, and I like to think I do the same for you.”

I thought of the awkward human, then vampire, I’d been, and the slightly less awkward vampire I was becoming. “It’s just—you were very unexpected.”

“That’s because you’d only explored one half of yourself, Sentinel. I merely gave you the chance to blossom. To be the person you were always meant to become.”

Tears rushed into my eyes, and I knuckled them away. “Damn it, Ethan. How do you come up with things like that?”

“I keep a notebook. I intend to make you mine, Sentinel. Not just for tonight, or for tomorrow, or for the decade. For eternity. And I’ll have my ring on your finger. I’ll have the world know that you’re mine. I suggest you get used to the idea.”

With a frisson of excitement speeding my heart, I decided I’d find a way to adapt.

We’d just finished the meal when my phone began to ring. I pulled it out, found my grandfather’s name on the screen.

“You made it home okay,” he said with obvious relief.

“We did. Anything new on the attack?”

“Not yet. They’ve gone through the car, sent what they found to the lab, but we don’t have the results yet. Although that’s not why I’m calling. I’m afraid I’ll have to interrupt your night again. We could use your help.”

“With what?”

“There’s been a murder.”

My heart nearly stuttered, as if unsure whether to stop or start wildly racing. I put a hand on my chest. “A murder?”

Ethan’s gaze flashed toward me.

My grandfather cleared his throat. “The victim was Arthur’s son.”

I closed my eyes. Detective Arthur Jacobs was a stand-up member of the CPD—both a good friend to my grandfather and an ally of ours. I wouldn’t have wished death on anyone, and certainly not the loss of a child.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “So very sorry.”

“He’s not here—too close to it, of course. He’s with his family. But obviously this is important to him, which makes it important to me. And that’s why I’m calling. It’s the manner of his death. I’m here with Catcher and Jeff, but we’d appreciate your thoughts—and Ethan’s, if he’s available.”

This time, my stomach fell. The last thing we needed was another vampire accused of murder. It would be a quick end to our temporary peace. “You think a vampire was involved?”

“We aren’t sure. The victim was found at Fourth Presbyterian Church,” my grandfather said. “On Michigan Avenue. He’s in the courtyard.”

That church—and the courtyard—was beautiful. It was a refreshing patch of green along the bustle of Michigan Avenue. I wasn’t sure if it was better or worse for the victim to have died in such a lovely place.

“It looks like someone may have tried to tie vampires to it. That’s part of what we’d like your thoughts about.”

“We’ll do whatever we can to help. And we’ll be there as soon as we can.”

I said my good-byes, hung up the phone, and met Ethan’s gaze again. His expression was blank; he knew something was wrong, and he’d already moved into Master mode.

“What’s happened?”

“Detective Jacobs’s son was killed,” I said, and caught his sympathetic wince. “They found his body at a church on Michigan Avenue, and my grandfather would like us to consult.”

Sympathy turned to concern—probably fear that vampires had been involved in such a heinous crime. “Vampires had something to do with it?”

“He’s not sure; that’s why he wants us there. I don’t want you to go,” I said. “Not after what happened earlier.”

“I can’t—I won’t—stay interred in this House in the meantime. And I won’t let you go alone.”

I could have argued with him, but he’d insist on going, as much for my protection as for his.

“I know,” I said. “I’m going to message Jonah and ask him to meet us there.” When Ethan’s eyes flashed, I gave him a warning look of my own. “I can’t help with a murder and keep you safe. Jonah can. One more sword. One more pair of eyes.”

I saw the fight in Ethan’s eyes, the battle between pride and logic. But he finally relented.

“Contact him,” he said, moving the table back and rising to his feet. “I’ll tell Luc and Malik.”

“You should apologize while you’re at it. You’re grouchy when you’re attacked.”

“Don’t push your luck, Sentinel,” he said, even as I was stealing a cube of pineapple from his plate. Because I lived in the danger zone.

I texted Jonah, got his agreement to meet us at the church, and then headed to the closet to dress. I generally opted for leather pants and jacket when facing potential calamity, but the ensemble seemed too flashy for the circumstances. I opted for my own fitted, black Cadogan suit and a black tank. I finished with black heeled boots, decided to leave my hair down. A ponytail seemed too perky.

I finished dressing before Ethan. While he fixed cuff links and pulled on a watch, I checked my pride and joy, my ancient katana.

She was housed in a deeply red lacquered scabbard, stored horizontally on a rack Ethan had placed above a console table in the sitting room. His own katana lay below it in its glossy scabbard.

I lifted my sword carefully from its rack, unsheathed it with a delicate whoosh. The steel, tempered with my own blood and carefully cleaned, gleamed in the light, which flowed down the blade’s gentle curve like water. Assured she was ready, I tipped the end back into the scabbard and slid her home again.

“You think we’ll need those?”

I turned, found Ethan behind me in his well-fitted suit, hands in his pockets, hair pulled back. He looked more like a captain of industry—and possibly an illegal one—than a Master vampire. Captain or not, he could handle himself.

“I hope not,” I said. “But better safe than sorry.”

And speaking of safety, Moneypenny, my silver Mercedes coupe, was beautiful, but she was also recognizable and predictable. Moneypenny had the curves of a 1957 300SL Mercedes roadster but the speed of a Formula One prototype. She was a bombshell. Absolutely beautiful, and absolutely mine.

Lindsey, on the other hand, drove an SUV. It was large, black, and ubiquitous in Chicago. Midwesterners preferred heavy vehicles for treacherous winters.

Well, most midwesterners. Ethan drove a Ferrari. Of course.

“I’m ready if you are,” I told him. “Although I’d like to stop by the Ops Room. I need to make a request.”

Although much of Cadogan House was built to impress, the Operations Room was built for work. It was located in the House’s basement beside a well-stocked training room and an arsenal of weapons.

The Ops Room was also the headquarters of the Cadogan guards, which was why Luc sat at the central conference table, ankles kicked up on the tabletop, eating potato chips from an open bag beside him as he stared at the giant screen on the opposite wall.

He looked up when we walked in, gave Ethan a flat look before glancing at the screen again.

“Liege,” he sniped.

Ethan’s lip curled, but he managed not to verbally respond. Still, the hot wash of magic that filled the room made it clear how he felt.

“Lucas,” he said, and Lindsey, who’d turned to watch, cringed at one of the computer stations that lined the room.

“Any luck with video of the Mustang?” I asked.

“We haven’t found any footage of him so far. Nor any hint online the crescent tattoo signifies anything vampiric.” His gaze caught my belted sword, and he looked up at me. “Going somewhere?”

“There’s been a murder downtown—Detective Jacobs’s son. My grandfather asked us to consult.”

Luc’s expression fell. “That is rough. He’s a good man. Always been good to us. I presume he’s human, so why us?”

“That, we aren’t sure about. Only that the death has some tie to vampires. Considering what Jacobs has done for us, I didn’t argue.”

Luc glanced at Ethan. “You’re going with her?”

“I am,” Ethan said, his tone a challenge. “I certainly wouldn’t have her go alone.”

“I didn’t suggest you have her go alone,” Luc said, bristling at the insult.

“Jonah’s going, too,” I said. “He’ll give us another pair of eyes, another sword in case anything goes wonky. Which I wouldn’t expect it to, considering the fact that we’re visiting someone else’s crime scene and a cadre of CPD uniforms and detectives.”

Luc grunted, which I took for agreement. Having advised him of our next steps, we were technically ready to leave, but I wasn’t leaving the House with the two of them in a snit.

I walked to the Ops Room door, gestured to the hallway. “Luc, Ethan, could I please speak to you for a moment? Perhaps in the training room?”

They both looked suspicious, but I ignored the questions in their eyes and kept my own expression neutral. Ethan moved first, and when Luc saw that he’d relented, he kicked his boots off the table and rose.

I stood in the doorway until I was assured they’d moved, then walked past them to the training room, where I pointed inside.

“In. Both of you.”

They gave me equally dubious looks.

“You’re giving us orders?” Ethan asked.

I gave back the haughtiest expression I could manage, which was equal parts Ethan Sullivan (my Master) and Joshua Merit (my father).

“I am,” I confirmed. “It’s been a dramatic night, and we’re about to head into a pretty crappy situation. We don’t have time for attitude.” Both of them opened their mouths to protest, but I held up a hand to stop them.

“You’re colleagues and friends, and you both feel crappy that something dangerous happened tonight which made you question your control, your respective abilities to protect the ones you love.”

I looked at them for a moment, waiting for them to argue. To my great satisfaction, both of them shut their mouths tight. I gestured them forward into the training room. “Talk it out, punch it out, kick it out, whatever it takes. Just get it out there, and let’s move on. You have five minutes.”

I waited until they walked inside, grumbling the entire time, and closed the door behind them.

I found Lindsey in the Ops Room doorway, arms crossed and grinning. “Boy trouble?”

“When aren’t they trouble? While they battle it out in there, I need a favor.”

“Anything.”

“I need to borrow your car.”

When they emerged three minutes later, I had Lindsey’s keys in hand. Her dark SUV was considerably less conspicuous than Moneypenny, which would, I hoped, make the trip safer.

My excellent plan notwithstanding, both Luc and Ethan wore dirty looks.

“Love you guys!” I said with sickly sweetness. “You get everything worked out?”

“We’ve decided you’re the biggest pain in our ass,” Luc said.

“Oh, good!” I glanced at Ethan. “Now, if you’re done fighting and making up, can we please get to work?”

Ethan glanced at Luc, shared a long-suffering look. Which was fine by me, as long as they weren’t sniping at each other. The world outside the doors of Cadogan House was chaos enough; we didn’t need chaos inside.

“Phones on, and stay alert,” Luc said. “And tell Jonah we said hello.”

“Lucas,” Ethan politely said, “kiss my ass.”

And they were back.

We drove Lindsey’s SUV to north Michigan Avenue—Chicago’s Magnificent Mile. Parking, as usual, was ridiculously limited, but we found a spot a few blocks west of Michigan and hiked back to the church.

I was no country mouse, and I normally thrived on the energy of downtown Chicago. But this time my senses were on high alert: Every shadow got a second glance, every bystander a double look. Ethan was under my protection, and I wasn’t about to lose him on my watch.

Jonah stood on the corner of Michigan and Chestnut, his auburn hair blowing in the light breeze. With his tall, rangy build and chiseled features, he was movie-star handsome. Considering his great personality and sense of humor, he had no business being single. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had much luck in the dating arena.

“Merit, Ethan,” he said with a nod.

“Jonah,” Ethan said. His tone was unerringly polite, but he still wasn’t one hundred percent certain of the handsome guard captain—particularly since Jonah and I, as RG partners, were tied together in a way that Ethan and I weren’t. And Ethan was alpha enough to find those ties a little too binding.

“You haven’t seen anything yet?” I asked.

“Not yet. I waited for you since you sent the invite. Too many vampires spoil a party.” He gestured to the church, which was surrounded by official vehicles and ambulances. “Lot of cops around. I think the chance of a replay of the Cadogan Dash drama is slim. You drive Moneypenny?”

“Lindsey’s SUV,” I said.

“Good. Decreases the odds he’d follow you here—assuming he was looking.”

“No evidence of that so far,” I said as we walked together up Michigan. “But we’re still looking.”

“Show like that, you expect a second round.”

“We’re expecting it,” Ethan agreed. “We’ll be prepared.”

I hoped he was right but didn’t discount the risk. The cost was simply too great.

The Fourth Presbyterian Church property was nestled between shops and high-rises in Chicago’s bustling tourist sector. There was a sanctuary and separate parish buildings, and the space between them created a courtyard separated from Michigan Avenue by an arched, covered walkway.

Tonight, that courtyard was bounded by yellow police tape, that immediate indicator that something bad had gone down. Gawkers were gathered along the tape, cell phones extended to photograph the scene.

My grandfather moved toward us in brown shoes with thick soles, a plaid shirt tucked into brown slacks. There wasn’t much hair left on his head, and his face was comfortably lived-in. I loved him ridiculously.

He walked with a cane these days, his body still healing from an unfortunate run-in with the man who’d formerly held his position. But he moved quickly and, although his expression was dour, offered me a hug.

I tried to thread the needle between showing affection for my grandfather (with an affectionate hug) and keeping him safe (with an affectionate hug that didn’t rebreak his ribs, which were only just healing). He didn’t grunt in pain, so I considered that a victory. He smelled like the mentholated rubs he preferred for sore muscles, a scent I’d forever associate with weekend sleepovers at my grandparents’ house.

“I’m sorry to bring you out again after the evening you’ve had already,” he said, releasing me and offering Ethan a hand. “Ethan.”

“Chuck,” Ethan said. “No apologies necessary.” He motioned toward the cane. “It appears you’re getting around.”

“Not as well as I used to,” he said, “but better than I was, certainly.”

“And you remember Jonah, Grandpa. Guard captain at Grey House.”

“Of course,” my grandfather said, and they shook on it. “Nice to see you again.”

I took a look at his face, saw lines of grief etched around his eyes. He stood Ombudsman now instead of homicide detective, but there was no mistaking the cop in his eyes.

“We’re so sorry to hear of Detective Jacobs’s loss,” I said. “Did you know his son very well?”

“Not very,” my grandfather admitted. “Brett was twenty-five, already out on his own, but I’d met him a time or two at Arthur’s house for dinner. Good kid, by all accounts. No reason to believe he’d done anything that would make him anyone’s target.”

“I suppose they’ll wait until after an autopsy for funeral arrangements?”

“I expect so. Could be several days before they’re ready to release his body. He’s taking some time off in the meantime, keeping his family close.”

“Please offer our condolences,” Ethan said.

“I will,” my grandfather said. “Let’s do our part for Brett and take a look.”