Хлоя Нейл - Twice Bitten

I saw the covetous silvering of his eyes, and I knew that he’d realized the same thing I had.

Lacey Sheridan wasn’t going to be the only Master vampire Ethan had made.

And speaking of the last girl who’d gotten training from Ethan, I glanced up and oh so slowly shifted my gaze to the one who came before me. Lacey stared back at me, some new emotion in her eyes. It wasn’t friendship, certainly; Lacey and I would never be friends, not with Ethan between us. But there was something akin to respect in her expression. It was the recognition that she’d met an enemy on the battlefield and found her equal to the challenge.

The old me wouldn’t have wanted the confrontation.

But the new me liked the odds, even if I wasn’t entirely sure the prize would be worth the fight.

I nodded, acknowledging the battle—the challenge. She arched an eyebrow—no doubt an imitation of Ethan, perfected after twenty years of service in his House—then nodded back.

Ethan leaned toward me. “Get dressed and changed,” he whispered. “I’d like you to at least put in an appearance at her reception.”

I managed not to growl at him. Instead, I offered Lacey a polite smile, then trotted up the stairs to shower and climb back into my Cadogan black.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO KNOCK HIM (UN)DEAD I didn’t expect trouble during the cocktail reception, but my run-in with Jonah taught me a valuable lesson about heading out without any weaponry. I’d been lucky that the vampire stalking me outside the bar hadn’t been out to get me—but that certainly wasn’t true for everyone.

So as I climbed into my Cadogan black, I slipped a dagger into one of my boots. My hair went up, my Cadogan medal went around my neck, and my beeper was clipped on. I was as ready as I could be—at least physically.

Sure. I’d oblige him. I’d clean up and walk downstairs, and I’d put in an appearance at a party held in honor of his former flame. But I wasn’t going to do that without backup, at least in spirit. So I grabbed my phone from the bookshelf, took a seat on the edge of my bed, and dialed up Mallory.

The first thing I heard was the clanking of pots and pans, and a bevy of faraway curses before she managed to right the phone.

“Oh, God, stop—stop—crap—crap—Merit? Are you there?”

“Mal? Are you okay?”

“I’m—seriously—stop it. Right now.”

The din immediately quieted.

“What’s going on over there?”

“Science experiments. I have to learn how to work with a cat; they’re familiars, you know—and she’s into everything. She’s been here, like, four hours, and she thinks she owns my—Seriously, bad kitty! Stop that!—she thinks she owns my house. She’s destroying my kitchen. So, what’s up with you? I saw your text about some drama at the convocation?”

“Violence broke out, but Gabriel’s alive, and that’s the most important thing.”

“I totally knew that apotrope would work—like a charm!” she exclaimed, snorting through the phone.

I rolled my eyes. “You did good, and I appreciate it. But I need a moment of best-friend butt-kissing.”

“What’s he got you doing now?”

Ah, she knew me so well. “He’s hosting a cocktail party for Lacey Sheridan. He told me I had to put in an appearance.”

“You know, I really dislike him in so many ways.”

“That had occurred to me as well.”

“Well, let’s do the checklist—do you look fabulous?”

“I’m wearing my suit.”

“Good enough. Are you going to follow him around at the party or kiss her ass?”

“No plans for either.”

“Are you going to be your normally brilliant and funny self, reminding him by your very vivaciousness and joie de vivre how foolish he’s being?”

And that was why I loved this girl. “I can certainly give it my best.”

“That’s all I can ask—Oh, God, bad kitty. Merit, I have to go. She’s got my matches again. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Good night, Mallory.”

“Good night, Merit. Knock him undead.”

Like I told her, I’d give it my best.

Things were quiet when I emerged downstairs. I walked through the first-floor hallway to the back patio. Ethan’s door was open, his office dark, as were the other administrative offices I passed. I was halfway there—nearly to the kitchen—when I heard it.

Music.

Through the windows at the back of the House, I could see the glow of a fire in the backyard and the mass of vampires gathered around it.

As quietly as I could, I opened the glass-and-iron back door, and stepped outside. Black-clad vampires stood in rings, surrounding the haunting strain of music.

There was a single voice, a woman, accompanied by a violin. Her voice was clear and sad, the violin raspy, weeping. It sounded like a dirge, a low, sweet song of loss or love, the kind I’d run across in my own medieval studies.

The vampires’ attention was rapt—the crowd silent, gazes on the musicians in the middle, whom I still couldn’t see. They said music soothed the savage beast; I was a believer.

I saw Luc’s tousled curls in front of me. When I reached him, he looked over and smiled before turning back to the musicians. I could finally see them—Katherine and a male vampire I didn’t know. He played the lonely fiddle; the clear but melancholy voice was hers.

“It’s a Civil War song,” Luc whispered. “Ethan asked them, Thomas and Katherine, to do a song tonight.”

This must be Katherine’s brother, I realized. “It’s beautiful,” I told him.

They sat beside each other on a low, concrete bench, Katherine in a simple dress and sandals, Thomas in black pants and a button-down shirt. His eyes were closed, the violin tucked beneath his chin, his shoulders swaying as the song flowed from his strings.

Katherine’s eyes were open, but her gaze was unfocused, as if she watched invisible memories play out before her as she traveled the verses of the song.

“She was changed in 1864,” Luc whispered. “She and Thomas both. Her Master changed them after Katherine lost her husband, Caleb, to the war. They’d only been married for a week.”

The song sounded autobiographical. Katherine sang for a young soldier’s safe return, lamented the sound of gunfire across a valley, and lamented the soldier’s death.

She mourned the death of her true love.

I’m not sure what made me look up, what made me search the crowd for Ethan, but I did. I saw Lacey first. Her expression was blank, emotionless. If she was touched by the song, by the lyrics, she didn’t show it.

He stood beside her, arms crossed. His gaze . . . on me.

We looked at each other over the vampires, over the music, his eyes catching the glow of the garden lights, centuries of history in his gaze.

Centuries that had made him cold.

And then his voice echoed through my head. Merit.

He silently called my name, even as he stood beside her.

Liege? I answered back.

His eyes glinted. Don’t call me that.

There is nothing else for me to call you. You are my employer. That is the deal we’ve struck.

There was something helpless in his eyes now, but I wasn’t going to fall for it again. I turned my gaze to the fire. It licked toward the sky, forked tongues of flame creating glowing shadows on the tinder. The tangy wood smoke rose, the fragrance almost intoxicating, hinting at a wildness that vampires in the middle of downtown Chicago, forbidden from the sun, couldn’t otherwise touch. I stared at the fire until the song was over, then clapped along with the others as Katherine and Thomas shared a soft, sad smile.

“Where did you head off to last night?” Luc asked as Katherine sipped from a cup and Thomas resituated his violin. I assumed he wasn’t asking where I’d been—but where Lindsey had been.