CARD TRICKS

I woke up alone, the bed cold beside me.

I sat up, my mind whirling with possibilities - namely that he'd decided to let Lacey console him. But before I'd even put my feet over the edge of the bed, the door opened. Ethan walked in. He was in shirtsleeves, his jacket in his hand.

I said a prayer of thanks that he was okay, that the apparent vampire assassin hadn't snuck into Cadogan House and taken him out. But then the anger started to build again.

"Late night?" I asked, as calmly as possible.

"Continued strategy session," he said. "We nudged dawn, and I fell asleep on the couch in my office."

"And Lacey?"

"She was there," he simply said. He walked to the bed and laid his jacket across it, then took off his cuff links and watch.

"All this because you're angry at me?"

He didn't look back at me. "We were working, Merit."

"Until dawn? Without enough time to return to your bed? To me?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to admit that you're angry at me. That you want her to want you, and that you're giving her license because you're angry with me."

"You're just jealous." His tone was dismissive, as if I'd come to him with a childish complaint.

"Of course I'm jealous. You two were cut from the same cloth. And I think, in your heart of hearts, she's the type of woman you imagined you'd end up with."

"As opposed to the stubborn brunette I actually ended up with?"

"Yes," I pointedly agreed, then bucked up my courage. "Are you spending time with her to punish me about the RG?"

"I don't have time to play games."

"You're avoiding me."

"I'm busy."

"You're angry."

The dam burst. He glared at me. "Of course I'm angry, Merit. I am goddamn pissed off that you undertook a dangerous course without talking to me about it, and that you've been working with him all along without telling me about it."

He moved a step closer. "If I were to tell you Lacey and I weren't just working together because of our similar outlooks, our similar training, but because we shared a bond that you couldn't touch, how would you feel?"

He was right; I'd feel miserable. The hypothetical alone made me sick to my stomach. On the other hand . . .

"I don't spend time with Jonah to hurt you."

"If that's what you think I'm doing, then you must have forgotten the challenges facing the House right now."

The words notwithstanding, he wouldn't look at me when he answered. Yes, I'd hurt him, and there was little doubt his mind was on other things. But he knew damn well what he was doing and how it was affecting me. He was lashing out, even if he didn't want to admit it. Even if he wanted to imagine himself above such human concerns.

He put an elbow on the chest of drawers, then rested his forehead in his hand. "This won't help us. Fighting each other."

He was right. We were at a stalemate, and we would be until one of us stepped back, until one of us was satisfied about the fidelity of the other.

So he changed the subject. "The transition team is meeting in half an hour to consider our response. We have, we believe, some thoughts about the contract and the necessity of making the payment to the GP considering their bad behavior. We've called the bank, as well. But if we don't come up with a solution respecting the House proper, we'll have to give in."

"They mean to break us," I said, tears blossoming at the thought of leaving the House.

"They anticipate we'll bend."

But we wouldn't. We couldn't. The colonies didn't bend to the British, and I didn't imagine that we would, either.

"Your murder investigation?" he asked.

"We're no closer to finding out than we were yesterday. I have nothing, Ethan. Nothing at all."

And we're so far apart, I silently thought. So far apart it's killing me. God, I need you. I need help. I need someone to steer me in the right direction. I need an answer.

But I'd already asked him for more than he was able to give. He offered up a good-bye, then headed downstairs for another meeting with his team.

Which I was apparently no longer a part of.

* * *

I showered and donned leathers in case the transition was messier than we'd expected, and made the usual beauty arrangements - bangs brushed, hair ponytailed, lips glossed.

I walked downstairs, a couple hundred suitcases for the ninety-ish vampires who lived in Cadogan House still staring back at me like a reminder of my failure: If you'd found a way out of this, convinced Lakshmi to help, we wouldn't have to leave.

I glanced into Ethan's office, saw that it was full of vampires. Ethan, Malik, Lacey, the librarian, Michael Donovan, but empty of mementos. Despite the crisis - or because of it - someone had packed away Ethan's knickknacks: trophies, photographs, physical reminders of his time in the House.

That was utterly depressing.

I'd be in and among vampires for the rest of the night, most likely. But for now, I wanted a moment with the House, with my home, to say good-bye, so I bypassed the office and headed through the hallway to the back door, and then outside.

The cold was jarring, but refreshing, as if the cold had cleansing power of its own. I walked down the path to the garden in which Ethan and I had shared moments, and where the fountain had finally been turned off for the winter.

I glanced back, the House glowing gold in the darkness of Hyde Park, three stories of stone and blood and memories.

A GP issue we hadn't been able to fix.

Four murders we hadn't been able to solve.

A relationship I'd broken.

What if I'd been wrong? What if joining the RG had been a violation of my obligations to the House and his trust in me? What if I'd managed to take everything that was good in my life - my place in the House, my vampire family, and Ethan - and tossed it in the trash on a whim? Out of some misguided belief that joining the RG had been the right thing to do? What if I'd played my hand incorrectly, made the wrong decision, and because of that I'd lost everything?

Why was everything so complicated? The politics. My friendships. My family.

My love.

But as good as a pity party sounded, this wasn't the time for regrets. It was the time to savor memories I'd soon be giving away. I took a seat on a nearby bench and recalled the things I wanted to remember about Cadogan House. Dinner with Mallory and Catcher in Ethan's office. The first time I'd walked into the library. The night I'd been Commended into the House, when Ethan had named me Sentinel.

The flap of wings overhead drew my attention upward. A dark bird - a crow or a raven, maybe - flew across the lawn and over the fence again. Wouldn't that be nice? To be able to disappear from our drama and bad decisions so easily?

I dropped my gaze to the garden around me. It was winter, so most of the beds were brown and bare of flowers. Someone, probably Helen, had installed a gazing globe on the other side of the bench. It was a perfect sphere of blue glass. Surrounded by inground lights, its convex surface warped the image of the garden.

I scooted across the bench and stared into it, wishing for enlightenment and wisdom. My face was warped in the glass, my nose hawkish, my cheeks pink. It was a different perspective on who I was . . . and what I'd become. A soldier, perhaps, if not always a successful one.

I stood up and straightened my jacket. If I was going to be a soldier, and if we were all going down with this particular ship, I'd much rather do it with the rest of my team in the House in which I'd built so many memories, rather than here, in the dark and cold, alone.

* * *

My phone signaled a new message just as I walked back into the House.

It was from Jonah. MESSAGE FROM LAKSHMI, it said.

My heart began to pound. AND? I asked him.

SHE SAYS, "MERIT OWES ME A BOON."

I stopped still, staring at that message. I'd offered her a favor last night in exchange for the location of the egg. She thought I owed her a boon . . . because she'd already told me the location?

SHE ISN'T RESPONDING TO MESSAGES, Jonah added, which I presumed meant we'd gotten out of her what we were going to get.

My hands began to shake with adrenaline. I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking out distractions, and tried to remember what she'd said about the egg, about where it had been hidden. It was hidden in a high place? A place of high esteem?

"No, a place of high regard," I whispered, opening my eyes again.

But where could that possibly be? A "place of high regard" could be virtually anywhere, if she had literally meant "high." Chicago wasn't without its tall buildings, after all. Could the GP have gotten it to the Willis Tower? Or the Hancock building?

What had Gabriel said? That I should be careful not to give them too much credit for a heist.

The GP had clearly accomplished a heist - the egg was no longer in its case. I'd seen that for myself. But what if, like Gabriel's skillful card dealing, the theft was somehow an illusion?

Maybe it was time to take a look at exactly what had happened during the GP ceremony.

I put the phone away and ran back down to Ethan's office, where Malik and the transition team were settled in around Ethan's conference table.

Ethan stood a few feet away, not yet sitting, but clearly taking in the lay of the land - the vampires and stacks of materials at his table. Tools unable to help him solve the problem that confronted him.

But perhaps I could help.

I walked toward him, put a hand on his arm. "I need to speak to you outside."

He glanced back, dubious of the suggestion. "Time is a bit crucial, Merit. We have less than an hour before they arrive."

"I promise it will be worth your time."

He watched me for a moment, his trust in me clearly not back to usual levels, but nodded and followed me into the hallway.

"I think we should check the security tapes from the GP ceremony. There should be video of the back half of the House. I'd like to see exactly what went on when the egg was stolen."

His expression didn't change; I could tell he was trying not to get his hopes up. "Why?"

I wet my lips nervously. "I'm not entirely sure yet. But I've spoken with the particular source you don't approve of, and let's just say I think it's worth checking out."

He looked at me in silence for a moment. "Merit - " he began, and I knew he was going to tell me I was wrong.

But I wasn't wrong. I was right, and I knew it. I just wasn't sure how I was right.

"I'm asking you to trust me. I know I'm not good at being a girlfriend, but I've tried my best since I joined this House - without my consent, I might add - to protect it. To keep it safe."

"Without your consent?"

I smiled a little. "I just threw that in for tension relief. But that's not the point. Just give me a few minutes, Ethan. Humor me."

Ethan tapped his fingers against his hip, undoubtedly debating the value of spending precious minutes on an untested plan, instead of working on the plans he already had in place.

Without a word, he started down the hallway. I followed him, hope deflating, afraid he'd refused to believe me because he was still angry, or because the idea was really just that bad.

But he passed his office and headed for the stairs, and then walked down to the basement.

The Ops Room was abuzz. The overhead screen showed a group of photos, pictures of the Navarre House vampires, some of them crossed out, presumably because Luc had eliminated them as murder suspects.

I would have been surprised that the electronics were still here and operational. But there was an emergency plan for the Ops Room, too - an electromagnetic switch that, when pushed, would wipe clean the electronics where they stood. Luc didn't have to worry about packing; nor did he have to worry about any new residents of Cadogan House taking our sensitive information.

"Liege?" Luc asked, glancing between us when we entered. "Is everything all right?"

"We need to see video of the GP ceremony," Ethan said. "Can you arrange that?"

"Um, sure. Do I get to know the punch line?"

"We're curious about the egg theft."

"I'm listening," Luc said, tapping a tablet to pull up video from the security cameras.

The screen went dark, and then the video popped up. It was black-and-white and grainy, but the figures posturing on the lawn were clear enough. The GP appeared in its typical V formation.

"Goose on the lawn," Luc said.

"Goose?" I asked.

"That V formation. I like to use derogatory terms to describe the GP whenever possible."

I couldn't disagree with that.

"They're all there," Ethan said, his gaze tracking the screen as he counted the GP members. "No one's missing."

"Patience," I said, hoping that I was right and wasn't wasting his time.

In the video, Ethan and Darius faced off, and the fairies arrived for their show of strength.

That was when I saw it.

"There," I said, pointing to the video. In the back corner of the "goose," Harold Monmonth, Celina's GP buddy, disappeared from view.

"That little shit," Ethan said. "Move the video forward."

Luc fast-forwarded the video, and it skipped ahead. Four minutes later, Harold Monmonth popped back into the V like he'd never been gone.

"Check his hands," I said, and Luc zoomed in closer.

His hands were empty.

"Can we be sure he went into the House?" Ethan asked.

"We can," Luc said. "Camera on the back door, too."

Luc switched the view and rewound a bit, and sure enough, Harold walked inside . . . and four minutes later walked back out again, empty-handed.

"He went into the House; he came out again," I said. "The egg was taken, but it's not in his hands when he leaves."

I glanced at Ethan. "The GP knew they'd have to come right back to Cadogan House with the egg to pay the fairies, kick us out, and take control. In fact, they were counting on the possibility we'd give up and walk away rather than risk bloodshed. They also had to think we'd comb the city looking for it . . . and the last place we'd look would be right here, under our feet in Cadogan House."

"The dragon's egg is in the House," he said, astonishment in his voice, looking at me with awe, then wrapping me into a giant hug that soothed my heart . . . and every other part of me. "He left it in the goddamn House!"

"Damn, Sentinel," Luc said, standing up and clapping me on the back. "You have been listening to me."

Him, and a renegade GP member, and a shifter. But sure, him, too.

"One problem," Luc said, checking the clock on the wall. "We don't have much time until they arrive, and it's a big House."

Ethan looked at me. "Did your, er, source provide you with any clue about where it might be?"

"High regard," I said, and luckily thought to disguise my pronoun: "They said it was in a 'place of high regard.'"

Ethan and Luc exchanged a glance. "My apartments," Ethan said. "Perhaps the library?"

Luc shook his head. "The librarian didn't leave for the ceremony. He'd have known if someone came in. The ballroom?"

Ethan nodded. "You stay here. I'll check the ballroom. Merit, check the apartments."

I nodded and dashed back to the stairway and up three flights of stairs. I tore open the doors to our apartments and began combing the room. I pulled open cabinet drawers, pushed back curtains, pushed clothes aside in closets. I unzipped pillows, checked beneath ottomans, and crawled under the bed.

I tossed the rooms, but I found nothing.

Defeated, I walked back into the hallway just as Ethan bounded up the stairs, chest heaving.

"Anything?"

I shook my head, just as his beeper sounded.

Blowing out a breath, he looked at it. "They're here," he said. "The fairies are outside."

I shook my head. "This isn't the end. It's here, Ethan. I know it."

"I cannot allow them to bloody this House," he said, his posture and expression beaten. He turned back to the stairs . . . but I refused to give up.

"High regard," I muttered, taking only a single step farther toward the stairs. "High regard. High, like prestigious? High, like on drugs? High, the opposite of low?"

I stopped. "High, like the opposite of low."

Ethan glanced back. "Merit?"

"It's high, as in height," I said, realization and memory coalescing together. "I know where it is. Go, go downstairs. I'll come to you. I promise."

He looked dubious, but I didn't wait for an argument. I ran back to the door at the end of the hallway that led not just to a room, but to an attic . . . and onto the Cadogan roof.

The room was empty but for the set of fold-down stairs, already unfolded. Air from the attic, cold and stale, rushed through the opening, and I climbed through it and emerged into rafters and insulation. I glanced around, but saw nothing.

But the window outside, which led to the House's widow's walk, was open.

"Hot damn," I said, rushing to the window and climbing outside into the night and onto the tiny balcony ringed by a railing of wrought iron.

I dropped to my knees and searched the shingles, one by one, in the dark, waiting to feel the lump of gold and enamel I knew I'd find . . . but still I found nothing. I stood up again, glancing down at the vampires and fairies assembling on the lawn just as Ethan walked outside.

The vertigo made me momentarily dizzy, and I put a hand out to balance myself - and felt the lump beneath the sandpaper shingle. I lifted it up and squeezed my hand into the opening I'd created . . . and pulled out a silk-wrapped package.

"I believe you have something that belongs to me."

I glanced back. Harold Monmonth stood in the window, scowling at me with dark eyes and a darker expression. The fairies were here, and it was time to produce his trophy.

But I had different plans.

"I believe you're wrong," I said, not waiting for his argument.

As he reached out to grab me, I hopped up to the railing of the widow's walk, then took a step into nothingness.

Vampires had a special relationship with gravity, and it was one I'd learned to exploit.

A second later, the dragon's egg safely in hand, I dropped down to the grass below, landing in a crouch with a thud that drew all attention to me.

With all the bravado I could manage, I rose and walked toward Ethan, trophy in hand. I smiled slyly. "Liege, I believe you were looking for this."

The crowds erupted into sound and noise - cheers from the Cadogan vampires, jeers from the GP members and the fairies. Not that they cared who carried the token. They just wanted it in hand.

Swollen with pride, and as Harold, Darius, Lakshmi, and the rest of the GP members watched, Ethan gazed across the lines of fairies in the yard.

"I presume you're here to retrieve the dragon's egg?"

"It is ours," said one fairy, stepping forward. "Made by our hands."

"Perhaps," Ethan said, "but it was created for one of our own, given to us by royalty among you. It is rightfully ours. Although by your deeds, you have proven how little you care for what is right."

There were scowls aplenty among the fairies.

"But tonight I offer this: Take our dragon's egg. And in return, swear to us that fae will do no more business with the Greenwich Presidium or threaten harm to Cadogan House, and we will consider our business here concluded."

Concluded, I presumed, because we could no longer trust them to guard the gate.

The fairies communed together for a moment, and then the fairy who'd stepped forward nodded at Ethan. "Accepted," he said, and took the dragon's egg from Ethan's hands.

Like a defeated army of the supernatural, they marched out the gate again.

Slowly, Ethan glanced at Darius, eyebrow imperially raised.

I had to bite back a smile, and I'm sure I wasn't the only one in the crowd.

"It appears your plan has been . . . thwarted," Ethan said.

"They are only our tool," Darius said. "You have wronged us, and we have a right to your House, irrespective of the arms we bring to bear in the conversation."

"Well, that position is as unfortunate as it is wrong. What you failed to anticipate, Darius, is that your little power play - your raising arms against our House and its vampires - is a fairly significant breach of your contract with Peter Cadogan."

Darius's smile faded.

Ethan put his hands in his pockets. "And do you know what happens when you breach the contract? By its terms, Cadogan's obligations to the GP are dissolved." Ethan snapped his fingers. "Gone. Not only don't you get the House, you also don't get the check. We called the bank, and they are more than happy to keep our rather substantial assets safe and sound within their vault."

Ethan crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow at Darius. "As you've lost your army and your battle, I suggest you get the hell off my lawn."

"This isn't over, Ethan," Darius gritted out.

"I'm sure it isn't," Ethan said. "All's fair in love and war, after all."

Their current state of defeat obvious, Darius and the GP members began to slink toward the front of the House, and Ethan was swamped by Cadogan vampires celebrating our very close call.

But he met my gaze over the crowd, a promise in his eyes - and his words. All the chocolate in the world, he silently said.

I presumed that was my reward, but this hadn't been my doing. I was only the vessel for the clue someone else had given me. I glanced across the sea of vampires, and locked eyes with Lakshmi Rao. She stood her ground, shoulders straight, expression just haughty enough to qualify for GP membership.

She looked back at me, and there was a very clear reminder in her eyes: You owe me.

As she disappeared from the Cadogan grounds with the rest of them, I shuddered.

* * *

The cold drove us inside, and we gathered in the foyer while Helen, Margot, and her staff unboxed crystal flutes and poured champagne.

"Novitiates," Ethan called out, "it would be naive of me to say that we are now in a world free of challenges. We are Rogue vampires, and if they weren't already, we have undoubtedly made an enemy of the GP tonight. Our guards still search for a killer who haunts our city. But most of all, we are Cadogan vampires. Drink up," he said, lifting his glass, "and then back to work."

Like a boss, I thought with a smile.

For a few minutes of bliss, I let Luc ply me with beef jerky and I pretended I was as competent as he made me out to the vampires sitting around us. But the fact that we'd found the egg was a lesson in human (and vampire) nature: Be nice to people (and shifters), because you never knew when you were going to need to pick their brains.

After a few minutes, I stood up to find Ethan. I needed to get back to work, but we needed to clear the air. I'd shown him, I hoped, that the RG was a benefit to the House, not a burden. A bond that worked both ways - and worked for the overall good of vampires.

I walked down to his office and found his door slightly ajar. I peeked inside. He and Lacey stood in the middle of the room.

Ethan's expression was polite. "I appreciate that you came. You're a good Master; you're an even better ex-Novitiate."

He teased Lacey, but her expression was serious, and there seemed little doubt of what was on her mind.

"Ethan, I have to say this: I think it's time you gave serious thought to your relationship with Merit."

"Lacey - " he began, but she interrupted.

"You need someone strong. Someone honorable. Someone who isn't going to run into the arms of another vampire in the middle of a crisis. You need someone worthy of this House. Someone worthy of you."

However much she wanted him, she had no right to diminish the gravity of what he'd done - the stake he'd taken for me - by suggesting he hadn't done it on purpose.

It was time to clear the air with her, too, so I pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Lacey caught a glimpse of me, and before I could speak, she reached out, grabbed Ethan by the lapels . . . and kissed him fiercely.

"Jesus!" Ethan said, pushing her back and wiping his mouth with a hand. "Lacey, get ahold of yourself."

"She let you die," Lacey insisted. "She failed to protect you. Do you know what that did to us? To all of us?"

Thinking it best to keep the witnesses to this drama to a minimum, I closed the door behind me with a resonant thud.

Ethan looked back, his eyes widening, probably wondering what I'd seen.

"If you're going to insult me, at least respect me enough to insult me to my face." I kept my tone calm, but my voice was loud enough to carry across the room.

For a split second, I saw fear in Lacey's eyes. But then in an instant it was gone, replaced by haughty arrogance.

"This is how you train your Sentinel? To be disruptive? To be dishonorable? She's cuckolding you, Ethan. And lying to you about it." She reached into her pocket and pulled out the Saint George coin Jonah had given me. "I found this on the floor of your apartment, and it stinks of Grey House."

My eyes widened, and I only just managed not to reach into my pocket and confirm the coin was gone. It was clearly gone; it must have fallen from my jacket.

Ethan's expression was a sad mix of fury, disappointment, and bewilderment. "You were in the apartment?"

"Yes, because I'm right, Ethan. I've always been right about her. I don't care who her father is. She's dishonest, and she's hurting you."

I wondered if Ethan appreciated the irony that two of his vampiric students had acted without his permission because they were sure they were right. I'd acted for the House. Lacey had acted . . . for Ethan? Or for herself? Did she truly believe I was as dangerous as she said, or was that the best excuse she could imagine to insinuate herself between us?

And then there was the shot about my father, which certainly didn't endear her to me. It was a sensitive spot, which she must have known.

Ethan sensed my rising anger; he held up a hand to stop me from speaking. "It is unacceptable for you to go into our home without permission."

Our home, he'd said. Tears nearly popped to my eyes from the rush of relief prompted by those two little words, but I held them back. I did not want to cry in front of her.

She blanched, just as I had. "I did it to help, Ethan. You have to know that." She thrust out the coin again. "Look! Look at this. It proves what I've been saying."

"Merit has no reason to be ashamed about that coin. And you have no reason to concern yourself with it."

Wait, did Ethan just defend me . . . and the RG?

"You knew about it?" she asked.

Ethan didn't answer. He just extended his hand, kept it there until Lacey dropped the coin into it. And then he turned and held it out to me.

"I suppose you dropped this, Sentinel?" His eyes were unfathomable.

"Yeah, yes," I said, then tucked it into my pocket again.

Ethan looked back at Lacey. "I think it's time you return to San Diego," he said. This time his tone wasn't that of a Master speaking to a colleague, but a Master speaking to a Novitiate who'd disappointed him.

"Ethan - "

"Lacey, I don't care to be manipulated. While our relationship is long-standing, and I appreciate your service to this House, for the sake of that relationship, this is a chapter you must close. If you cannot close it on your own, I will close it for you."

She nodded curtly, tears beginning to swim in her eyes. "Liege," she said, then turned on her heel and walked toward the door, opened it, and disappeared into the hallway, leaving it ajar. I wondered if that was symbolic of her hope that perhaps Ethan might change his mind and call her back.

Ethan looked back at me. For the first time in days, I saw the hint of a smile. "Saint George?"

"It was a gift from the RG. For my membership. Thank you for covering for me."

"The last thing we need is Lacey believing she's discovered a conspiracy between you and Jonah to take down the House."

I nodded. "I'm sorry for all of this. I'm sorry Lacey and the RG had to come between us. It wasn't the way I wanted this to work."

"I understand why you'd be attracted to the RG," he said. "It's because of who you are. Your recent humanity, your rebellious nature, your disdain for authority. And as we saw tonight, your RG connection is quite clearly a very effective defense against the GP."

"I told you it would be," I said.

"You'd have a heart attack if I forced you to quit, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, because you wouldn't force me, and I couldn't do it. That's not who you are, Ethan, and that's certainly not who I am. I'm Sentinel of this House for a reason - because you knew I wouldn't blindly follow your dictates or the GP's dictates."

Ethan made a sarcastic sound. "There seems little chance of that."

I took his hands. "If I thought for one second that I needed to join the RG to keep an eye on you and make you a better Master, we wouldn't be together. You taught me to be a vampire, to be a soldier, to stick up for those whose voices aren't heard by the politicians in our world. Even if it doesn't feel like it, the RG is an homage to you, not a rebellion."

He looked back at me, and must have been satisfied by what he saw in my eyes. "Follow your instincts, Merit. If you believe the RG is part of your path as a vampire, see it through. But remember that we are your priority."

He smiled a little, so I leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Always," I said. "I love you."

"I love you, too. I can accept your RG membership because I know who you are. Because I know you will wear it to better the lives of vampires of this city. But times are what they are. That I find it acceptable doesn't mean that others would. Who else knows?"

"No one else. Well, the House knows we were fighting, but not what we were fighting about. Ditto Mallory."

Ethan narrowed his gaze.

"What? I needed to talk to a girlfriend."

"And what did she have to say?"

"She was irritated on your behalf."

He looked smug. "Do try not to tell anyone else about your top secret affiliation, if you can manage it."

"I'll do my best. And consider this - if I forget and put an ad in the Sun-Times, at least we have each other."

"So we do. I will accept your membership in the RG. But should you ever share blood with him again, you will answer to me."

His eyes had silvered, and he stared at me intensely.

The heady mix of fear and lust in the air made my head spin. "You said you weren't jealous," I countered, stepping backward. "You said you and I were inevitable."

"That was before I knew that you'd blood-bonded yourself to a man of another House, Sentinel."

Without warning, and before I could correct him, he reached out, gripped the edges of my jacket, and kissed me fiercely. "You are mine and mine alone, and it appears you need reminding. I suggest you return to our apartment; otherwise you'll be ravished here and now where you stand, and the door is open."

I stared at him, all rationality leaving me, any objections I might have made to his attitude completely slipping from my mind. I was grateful to be alive, and this was Ethan in his prime - vampire, alpha, predator. And it was intoxicating. But that didn't mean I wasn't going to challenge the attitude. I knew my eyes had silvered - and that he'd seen it, too, but ignored it.

"You wouldn't."

He dropped his head, his lips at my ear. Instinctively, my blood singing, I dropped my head back, giving him access to my neck. "Try me, Sentinel."

"Ethan," I muttered, the sound pushing him over the edge.

"Too late," he said, moving to the office door, slamming it shut, and locking it behind him.

Before I could object, he'd reached me again, and his mouth was on mine, feasting, his hands claiming every inch of my body as he pulled away my jacket and dropped it to the floor.

"You're ravenous," I said lightly.

He stepped forward to keep our bodies aligned, and took my chin in his hand. "I will have you. Body, mind, and soul. And I won't share you with anyone else."

He was in full alpha mode, playing out some part about possession and ownership.

I was a smart woman. Well educated and plenty schooled. But that didn't lessen the effect of his primal, predatory desire. If he'd asked me to drop to my knees and crawl toward him, I might have done it.

Fortunately, there was no need.

I gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it upward and over his head, taking a long moment to enjoy the view: smooth, eternally golden skin over lean muscle. I slid my hands from his waist to his chest, reveled in the feel of him. He stepped back and raised both arms, then ran his hands through his golden hair. The motion pulled his obliques into view and tightened his flat stomach. "Show-off."

Ethan grinned and crooked a finger at me.

"I don't perform on command," I reminded him.

He unsnapped the top button on his jeans.

My eyes widened. "Sneaky bastard."

I gnawed my lip in pleasure, watching the past, present, and future Master of Cadogan House in a state of utter abandon: shirt on the floor, jeans unbuttoned, his arousal obvious.

Without bashfulness, he took my hand and guided it to his erection. With rhythmic motions, he moved my hand back and forth across denim-clad steel, eyes closed as he tilted his head back, teeth clenched, breath hitching. His hips canted against my hand.

I watched him for a moment, utterly entranced, his expression wrenched with the sensation, the sensuality. And then his eyes opened, his lips curled, and he watched my face as I moved him, rocked him, brought him close to the edge of his passion.

When he decided he'd had enough, he found my mouth again, then wrapped my legs around his waist and maneuvered me backward until my thighs hit the back of his desk, and I was perched on the edge, my legs wrapped around his hips.

"You want me," he said.

"I don't stop wanting you. Not since the moment I walked into this House all those months ago."

He momentarily stilled - maybe shocked by the admission - but his eyes flattened again.

"Take off your shirt," he said.

But I hadn't won Ethan Sullivan - and he hadn't won me - by my playing the wilting lily to his alpha predator. I lifted my head. "I am not your possession."

"Aren't you?"

At my refusal, he moved forward and gripped the hem of my shirt. With fingers trailing over my skin, he pushed it upward, farther and farther, until he'd revealed my bra. Then shirt and undergarment disappeared, and he trained his eyes on my bare breasts.

He used mouth and teeth and tongue to incite me, and when I was aflame, stripped me of the rest of my clothing. His hands aroused my body, a ship at his command. There wasn't a bit of me that wasn't on fire for him, and when I silently called his name - Ethan, please - he reacted.

He didn't waste time on preliminaries - not that I needed any. A thrust of his hips and he was inside me, pushing a bare whisper of sound from my lips and the very breath from my body.

"Look at me," he said. But when I buried my head in his shoulder, he took my chin in hand and turned it toward him. "Merit. Look at me, goddamn it."

His irises, already silver, spun with mercurial motion. He held my gaze as he moved faster, as our bodies and hearts collided, and I watched with awe and shock and utter arousal as his pupils contracted and his lips trembled . . . and he reached his pleasure.

I watched the delicious agony of release cross his face, and I thought I'd never seen anything so memorable, that burrowed so deeply into my soul, as the expression on his face.

But to every story, there is another chapter.

* * *

Two hours later, we'd found our way upstairs and were still lying languorous and naked across the bed we'd reclaimed together, with love.

I lay on my stomach; Ethan lay beside me, his fingers trailing up and down my back as dawn approached again.

"So, are we good?"

"I'm definitely good."

I swatted his shoulder. "You know what I mean."

"We're good," he confirmed. "And if he so much as lays a hand on you, he won't live to regret it."

"Egotistical much?"

He smiled that leonine smile, utterly masculine, utterly arrogant, utterly proud. "It's not egotistical if it's well earned. Shall we see, Sentinel, how well earned it is?"

Far be it from me to argue.