Biting Cold

chapter EIGHTEEN

DEEP DISHING

I left Ukrainian Village with the radio on and the windows up. I baked in the sauna of a full-blast heater but only marginally enjoyed the warmth on the way back to the House.

I nearly popped a fist on the dashboard when the radio was interrupted with a staticky beep, but it wasn’t a problem with my radio.

It was a warning.

“Folks, we’re sorry for the interruption,” said the announcer, “but we’re going live to the home of Dan O’Brian, who you may remember was one of the South Side Four—the four Chicago Police Department officers recently released in connection with the alleged attack on vampires and humans.”

Sirens wailed in the background. Knowing this message wasn’t going to be good, I pulled the car over onto the side of the road, turned down the heat, and turned up the radio.

“Officer O’Brian, along with Officer Owen Moore and Officer Thomas Hill, were found dead outside O’Brian’s home just moments ago, and parents, this will be graphic if you have any young ones listening, it appears all three died of severe wounds to their throats. Officer Coy Daniels had been killed in the attack at the officers’ release. We have learned the remaining officers refused protection details offered by the city—”

I switched off the radio, closed my eyes, and put my head back on the headrest.

All that work to save the rest of them, and it had been for naught. Dominic had found them and killed them anyway. What was the moral of that story supposed to be? That evil would always win? That fighting the battle was pointless?

This night needed a happy ending, and soon.

There were few places in Chicago where I was all but guaranteed an unhappy ending. One of them was the home of the city’s skymasters, the tower in Potter Park where Claudia, the queen of the fairies, lived.

As I’d told Ethan and Paige, my last visit to the fairies hadn’t exactly been promising. But Claudia said we left with a clean slate, so I was hoping against hope that she’d remember that promise today and not kill me on sight.

I was desperate for information, and if she and Dominic had a connection, I was going to ferret it out.

The park was empty and quiet, and I parked along the street and walked through dying grass to the tower. It was made of stone and barely managing to stand, but Claudia had made it her home. I carefully took the spiral stone staircase to the door at the top, stopping at the ornate tower door.

Steeling myself, I knocked twice.

It opened, and a mercenary fairy stared out. “Yes?”

The last time I’d done this, Jonah had spoken in Gaelic to request admission to see Claudia. I didn’t have any such skills, so English would have to do.

“I would like to speak with Claudia, if she’d allow it.”

The door thumped closed, pushing a puff of dust and wood rot into my face. I brushed off my cheeks just as it opened again.

“Briefly,” the fairy said with a snarl, stepping back to allow me in.

The room in which Claudia lived was round and magically enhanced, filling a space significantly larger than the tower’s appearance outside would have let on. It was simply furnished and smelled of a garden’s worth of flowers.

Claudia, her long, strawberry blond hair in a loose braid down her back, sat at a round table on one side of the room. She wore a dress of pale pink and a leafy crown, and she glanced over her shoulder as I walked inside.

“Bloodletter,” she said, as much a hiss as a greeting.

“Madam,” I said.

She rose from her table and walked toward me, her blue eyes tilted in curiosity. “You visit our abode again. Why?”

“I understand you know Dominic, the messenger, and I wondered if you’d tell me about him.”

She laughed, the sound simultaneously whimsical and ancient. “Who are you to inquire about such things? You are a child, and a bloodletter at that.”

“He is hurting people,” I said. “I’m trying to find a way to stop him.”

That was precisely the wrong thing to say. Her smile faded, and the Queen of the Fae strode toward me with grim determination on her face. Before I could move out of the way, she slapped me.

“Who are you, that you believe you have the right to control the destiny of a messenger?”

My cheek burning, I forced myself to look back at her—and not to push her away. She was too testy, and she’d lured me toward violence before.

“I am Sentinel of my House and a protector of this city,” I said. “He threatens those within it. That gives me the right to question and, if necessary, to act.”

“You know nothing,” she spat out, turning on her heel and pacing a few feet away. She turned back again, shoulders back and breasts arched forward, as if proving her femininity to me.

“Dominic is under my protection, and so he will stay. If you seek to harm him, you seek to harm me and mine. No such thing will be allowed.” She gave me a disdainful look. “You are no protector. You are a poppet with a pointy stick and the arrogance to match. Leave this place. If you deserve justice, he will find you, and you will find no more voice for your threats.”

The sword’s point suddenly at my lower back punctuated her dismissal. I was escorted back to the door and into the stairwell, and the door was slammed shut behind me again.

Not exactly the most productive meeting I’d ever attended, but one thing was for sure—Claudia knew Dominic. Had they been lovers? That seemed likely. Partners? Also possible. Details were thin on the ground, but I had a sinking feeling this wasn’t the last time I’d spend quality time with the fairy queen.

My mood not even slightly improved, I parked the car and nodded at the fairies before heading into Cadogan House. I found Lindsey on her way upstairs from the basement.

“Hey, you. You all right?” She frowned. “You look weird.”

“I’m okay. Tough night.”

She nodded. “Have you heard about the cops?”

I nodded. “On the radio.”

“Rough thing to hear.”

“I wasn’t thrilled,” I agreed. “It makes me feel pretty useless.”

“What could you have done? If they weren’t smart enough to get protection, there’s nothing that could keep Dominic from them.”

I shrugged. I understood the argument; it just didn’t make me feel any better. I still felt like I’d let the city down, and that was a tough burden to bear.

“Did you learn anything helpful at Mallory’s?”

“Not really. Catcher and Jeff are going to look into Tate’s history.” I told her what I’d learned from Claudia, which wasn’t much. “What are you up to?”

“It’s end of shift. The girls are waiting upstairs with a pizza. Are you hungry? You look like you could use a bite.”

When didn’t I look like that? In all seriousness, I wasn’t sure I was ready to talk to Ethan, and I certainly wasn’t up for another argument tonight. Not with sorcerers and cops and fallen angels on my mind. On the other hand, Lindsey and I had a pretty good history of late-night pizza-and-movie relaxation.

“Yeah,” I said. “That sounds good.”

“Okay,” she said, slipping her arm through mine. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m not,” I said. “But I will be.”

A crowd was already gathered in her small room. Margot was there, along with a few male vampires I vaguely recognized but hadn’t really spoken to. Notwithstanding the fact that we were vampires, the air smelled of cheese, tomato sauce, and lots of garlic. Three of my favorite food groups, baked into one deep-dish pizza amalgamation so thick and saucy you had to eat it with a spoon.

I was greeted by cheers (always better than jeers) and tiptoed my way across vampires toward an empty spot on the floor.

“We were just deciding what to watch,” Margot said as she served up a slice of deep dish onto a paper plate and handed it over. “As social chair, I think you should get to pick which one.”

Ethan had named me House social chair as a half joke and half punishment. He thought I needed to become better acquainted with my fellow vampires. It was undoubtedly a good call, although I hadn’t done much at all in the position. I’d thought about hosting a mixer for Navarre, Grey, and Cadogan vampires, but magical drama always seemed to get in the way.

“What are our options?” I asked.

Lindsey flipped through some movies. “Animated with a good moral. Three ladies being saucy about their jobs and boys. And, my personal favorite, poor kid proves she’s the best dancer at Dance-Off High and wins the lead role in a Broadway musical.” She slid me a glance. “The guys won’t appreciate this, but there is singing. Much singing, and you can make the lyrics scroll across the bottom of the screen.”

She knew me as well as anyone. I loved to dance, and in high school I’d had plenty of ambition—but sadly, no talent—to become a musical theater songstress. Thank God I’d had good grades to fall back on.

“I can’t possibly say no to sing-along lyrics,” I said, diving into the pizza. It was ridiculously good.

I caught a pretty bad habit in graduate school of obsessing about my work to the point of ignoring anything and everything else. I rarely visited friends. I rarely did anything that wasn’t related to getting the job done. I became a hermit, not because I didn’t like people, but because I wasn’t very good at balancing work and play. “All work” was a lot easier to manage.

Times like this made me remember that I could do both. I could be busy, productive even, while having a social life. While interacting with people. While being out in the world instead of sequestering myself away from it. Times like this I felt like a normal person, not just a solver of problems for a House of vampires.

Friendship, I thought, quickly downing my wedge of pizza, wasn’t a burden. It was a gift. It allowed us to remember what all the fighting was about in the first place. Why we struggled to protect the House—and what we were protecting.

So I sat back with Lindsey and the others, and I sang horribly to lyrics that were wincingly bad, and I remembered why we went to all the trouble of fighting in the first place.

When the movie was over, I helped the crew clean up and was happy to take the last piece of pizza for myself back to my room.

But when I made a move to leave, Lindsey stopped me.

“Oh, no,” she said. “We have words for you.” She looked around the room. “All boys out of the room, please.”

There were only a couple of male vampires left, but they shuffled out after whistles and catcalls about what they joked was going to take place with me, Margot, and Lindsey after they left.

Lindsey closed the door behind them, then looked back at me.

“Spill.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, but Margot and Lindsey exchanged a glance that said they knew better.

“You and Ethan should be doing the nasty with aplomb and frequency,” Lindsey said. “And instead, you’re barely talking to each other and you’re having me and Luc relay messages between you. If the sexual tension in this House gets any thicker, we’ll have to paddle through it. What the hell is going on?”

I closed my eyes. Part of that was completely humiliating, and I really didn’t want to get into the rest of it.

On the other hand, I needed help. And unlike a certain pretentious Master vampire, I knew when to ask for it.

I sat down on the floor again. “He’s driving me crazy.”

Lindsey and Margot joined me. “What happened?”

“It started in Nebraska. We realized he and Mallory have some kind of connection because of the spell she tried to work. He’s not her familiar or anything, but if she gets emotionally freaked-out, he does, too.”

“That’s scary,” Margot said.

“It is,” I agreed. “But he can control it—he controlled it in Nebraska. Anyway, during one of these spells he grabbed my arm, and now he’s convinced he’s going to hurt me if we keep seeing each other while Mallory’s in his head. So we’re ‘halting’ our relationship.” Yes, I used air quotes.

Lindsey gave me a flat stare. “He’s an idiot.”

“Oh, I know.”

“After all the shit you two have been through—all those months of fighting and driving the rest of us crazy—this is the thing he gets freaked-out about? Because he grabbed your arm?”

“That’s it.”

Lindsey fell back onto the carpet with much drama. “I knew he was stubborn, but this truly takes the cake.” She leaned up on her elbows. “He knows you’re immortal, right? And that you’ve broken ribs before? And been shot?”

“He might know those things,” Margot said, “but consider it from his perspective—the man is Master of this House, or was anyway. His life is about control and order and combating chaos. And now he’s got someone else shacking up in his head who can affect his behavior—and cause him to hurt one of his vampires? That’s not a comfortable place for him.”

“I get that,” I said. “But that’s exactly my point—Ethan didn’t suddenly turn into a jerk. He has a sorceress living in his head, creating his moods, and causing his emotions to go magically wonky. I’m not one to excuse people for their bad behavior, but in this case, it really isn’t his fault. And, more important, it’s me. He knows I can take care of myself. And instead of letting me help him, we have, as you put it, the giant wall of tension that is driving me crazy.”

“You know what the problem is?” Lindsey asked. “You two are stuck in a prelationship.”

“What’s a prelationship?” Margot and I simultaneously asked.

“That stage when you clearly have the hots for each other, but you haven’t yet agreed that you’re actually in a relationship. It’s the pre-relationship stage. He has convinced himself he’s not really breaking up with you for an idiotic reason, because you’re in a prelationship, so this ‘halting’ business doesn’t seem as bad to him.”

I sighed. “That makes sense. But what do I do about it? I want Mallory to disappear from his head, but that could take time. What if it takes years? Am I supposed to stand around and wait? I mean, he answered his apartment door half-naked.”

“He wants you,” Lindsey said. “Physically and otherwise. Maybe you only need to remind him that you can handle yourself.”

“How?”

“Girl, you’re the Sentinel of this House, and you’ve been trained by Catcher and Luc and Ethan. He’s in the training room right now. Get down there and kick his ass.”

I smiled slyly. Now, that was a plan that made sense.

I was a woman with a plan, and it wasn’t a plan I was going to half ass. I was bringing every skill I had to bear on the problem—and taking off most of my clothes to do it. The official Cadogan House training ensemble was pretty tame—a top that looked like a black sports bra and yoga pants. It was an outfit geared for movement and comfort.

By contrast, Catcher Bell’s training uniform was designed to allow me to watch my body move—and because of that, there was a lot less to it. Short black shorts and a bandeau-style bra.

I wiggled into the ensemble, straightened my ponytail, and made my way to the basement training room. Ethan must have needed a break from meetings and politics; he wore a white martial arts ensemble and was coaching a handful of Novitiates through a kata, one of the building blocks of vampire combat.

But when he saw me—and my ensemble—he stilled and his eyes went hot. Without a word to the Novitiates, he walked to me.

“Yes?”

“We weren’t finished with our discussion earlier.”

“And you intend to go another round?”

“I intend to bring you to your senses.”

“Watch your tone, Sentinel.”

I took a step forward, bringing me nose to nose with him. He’d taken a stake for me; I wasn’t afraid of him. One way or the other, I’d prove that tonight.

“You’ve seen me in action,” I quietly said, “and you know I can protect myself. You know I wouldn’t let you hurt me. I am not human. I am an immortal, practically indestructible, highly trained Novitiate vampire and Sentinel of this House. But if you think you can do it, I dare you to try.”

Shock filled his face. “Excuse me?”

“Me and you, right now. You try your best to hurt me.” I gave him the cockiest expression I could muster. “I guarantee you can’t.”

My words were softly but intently spoken, and they seemed to finally get through to him.

He marched to the center of the room, interrupting a cadre of half a dozen vampires who were sparring on the tatami mats that covered the floor.

“Out,” he bellowed, and no one stopped to ask for clarification. Without a word, they gathered up their things and headed for the door.

“Lock it,” Ethan directed, and I closed and locked the door behind us, my heart thudding in anticipation.

When I turned around again, he beckoned me forward. “Ready when you are, Sentinel.”

Oh, I was ready. He’d been obnoxious enough that I had no compunction about trying to hit him now, and I didn’t wait for him to make the first move. I ran toward him and executed a scissor kick, but he was fast enough to deflect it.

I prodded the back of his knee and sent him stumbling forward. But he caught himself and managed to use his momentum to spin the stumble into a backward kick.

I yelped in surprise but jumped over his foot. We were up and facing each other in less than a second.

First round: a tie.

“You aren’t trying very hard,” I said.

“I’m not actually going to hurt you.”

I chuckled. “That presupposes you could hurt me. You can’t. Try again.”

Ethan halfheartedly aimed a couple of jabs at me. In response, I offered a jab, an uppercut, and a double jab again. He dodged the shots, managed a side kick that grazed my right kidney. His eyes widened, but I made a sarcastic sound.

“It’s going to take more than that, Sullivan. As Morpheus would say, quit trying to hit me and hit me.”

I must have pricked his ego, as he spun backward and went for a crescent kick, which was one of his better moves. He had the lean strength of a soccer player and the fluidity of a dancer. The edge of his heel just grazed the outside of my thigh, and I quickly executed a side kick that tapped his butt just as he turned around.

But Ethan didn’t give up on the crescent kick. He spun again and caught the back of my knee with his heel. My leg bobbled and I went down, landing on my back. Before I could hop to my feet again, he pounced, flattening me to the mat and pinning down my arms.

My eyes silvered immediately, the speed of the transition almost embarrassing. It was unnerving that he had the power to affect me so immediately—that the sensation of his body atop mine immediately turned me into a needy mess.

“Point to me,” he said.

I considered my options—a scissor kick that switched our positions and put him on the floor, or a surrender that would keep him exactly where he was, his body warm and long above mine.

“Point to you,” I said, “but I’m still perfectly healthy.”

“It might not always be so simple,” he said, his eyes still dark with worry.

I understood his point, understood well the risk he was trying to avoid. But he’d saved my life twice. I trusted him implicitly, and not because I feared him or what he might do. “I’m not afraid of you.”

His eyes silvered. “You should be.”

“Never. You took a stake for me.”

“I was a different man then.”

“Bullshit. You are the same man now that you were before. A little ballsier maybe, and a little more moody because of Mallory’s intervention. But the same man.” I trailed a finger over the spot that bore the stake’s scar. “You took a stake for me. You bear a scar for me because of what you sacrificed. Would you do it again?”

“In a heartbeat.”

And that, I thought, was answer enough. He might have been afraid he’d hurt me, but he knew what he was willing to do to protect me.

“You told me in Nebraska that you’d choose me over Mallory.” I brushed a lock of hair from his face. “That’s what I’m asking you to do now, Ethan. Choose me over Mallory. Give up some control and let me help you.”

When he rolled over and sat up beside me, my heart sank. Tears suddenly bloomed at my lashes as I thought hope was lost.

“I haven’t told you how Malik and I came to be on campus that night.”

He meant that night he’d saved my life the first time and made me a vampire. My heart stuttered a bit, anticipating information that would either make me swoon—or make me furious. “No, you didn’t,” I carefully said.

“After your father came to me and I refused him, Malik and I were nervous he might, shall we say, shop around.”

He was quiet, watching me as I decided how to take his confession. Honestly, I wasn’t really sure how to take it. “You followed me?”

“We weren’t privy to your discussions with your father, but Malik thought it best to keep an eye on you, and I concurred.” He cleared his throat. “I’d decided you deserved the truth.”

“You were going to tell me what he did?”

“We knew you were enrolled at U of C, and we’d learned you were at school that night. We’d just gotten out of the car to find you when you were attacked.”

Of all the nights for him to attempt to speak to me.

And I’d hated him—loathed him—when I’d first been changed. I’d been so angry to have been denied the choice to become a vampire, and I’d taken that out on him. Of course, he’d been terrifically arrogant about it, and he hadn’t exactly handled my withdrawal from school very well. But still—he’d saved my life. And not just because he’d randomly happened upon me that night on campus, but because he’d made a decision to enter my life that night, and for the right reasons.

My father had offered him thirty pieces of silver, and Ethan had declined, and he’d tried to rectify what my father had sought to do.

My eyes filled with tears, and I said a silent thank-you to the universe for sending him to me. “I told you that you saved my life.”

He gave me no warning before his mouth sought mine, and he kissed me greedily, hungrily, and with obvious intention. His fingers pulled at my hair, drawing me closer, his arousal leaving an indelible mark on my body.

His free hand found my breast, and I moaned against his kiss, passion igniting and leaving my body on fire.

After only a moment, when my chest was heaving and my body pliant and ready, he pulled back.

“If you use the word ‘halt,’ I will hit you.”

“Not halt,” he breathlessly said. “Upstairs. Now.”

I thanked whatever strength he’d found to utter those words. And I was not going to argue with him.