Хлоя Нейл - Twice Bitten

“Temple Bar. Lindsey thought it would be a good idea to get me out of the House.”

“And how are you holding up?”

“If you meant with respect to the shifters, pretty good. If you meant personally, he invited his ex-girlfriend back to town. You can probably guess how I feel about that.”

Katherine and Thomas started again, this time a perkier song with an Irish cant. Luc and I stood together in silence, watching Katherine sing in a lilting Irish brogue, Thomas beside her, his fingers flying across the fiddle.

“I really do think he cares about you, you know.”

“He has a strange way of showing it.”

“He’s a vampire. That makes him strange.”

I glanced over at Luc. Even in the midst of supernatural drama, he usually had a quirky grin on his face. But this time, his expression was weary, and I wasn’t sure if we were still talking about Ethan . . . or Lindsey. Had something similar happened between them? If so, I could sympathize. It was hard to bear the burden of someone else’s regret—and the contrition that apparently followed it.

“Are you and Lindsey okay?”

His expression hardened. “Lindsey and I . . . aren’t. But that’s status quo.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

The question was pretty girly, but the look I got back—eyes narrowed, stare flat—was all boy.

“No, Sentinel, I do not want to talk about it.”

“Fair enough. Maybe,” I suggested, “if this is the product of immortality, we have to ask if the sacrifice is worth it.”

“It does make one wonder,” Luc said.

Love was very definitely a bitch.

Katherine and Thomas finished singing to raucous applause, the clapping eventually giving way to the soft sounds of cello music.

Luc sighed. “I’m going to mingle. You gonna be okay here?”

“Right as rain,” I told him. “Feel free.”

I watched him disappear into the vampires. It probably wasn’t a coincidence that I also saw Lindsey milling about in another part of the crowd.

“Katherine and Thomas are quite talented.”

I glanced behind me. Ethan stood there, expression blank, hands in his pockets. “They’re quite talented,” he said again.

I looked back at the crowd, wondering where his companion had gone. I found her on the other side of the formal garden, chatting with Malik. For the moment, the risk of drama diminished. “Yes, they are.”

“Gabriel called,” he said. “He confirmed that shifters who attacked were trying to make good on the hit and collect the payment.”

“Who ordered the hit?”

“They weren’t told, and they apparently didn’t ask.”

“That’s not exactly comforting. Is Gabe still sure the drama’s over?”

Ethan nodded. “He is all but convinced. That said, he is remarkably short-sighted for a man with gifts of prophecy.”

Or just not as neurotic as the fanged among him. “And the ultimate culprit?” I wondered.

“Who’s to say? Tony may have been involved, but we still don’t know whether he was the puppet master or just a puppet. And since we’ve been excused by Gabriel, that’s how it will remain.”

We stood in silence for another moment.

“You’re quiet this evening,” he said.

I pasted on a pleasant smile. “It’s been a long week. I’m just trying to relax.” And I was trying to avoid more drama.

He was quiet for two or three minutes, during which the two of us stood there together, black-clad vampires moving around us. “I can tell something’s bothering—” We had sex and you bailed, I silently thought, and now your contrition is driving me crazy. “I was just enjoying the music.”

“I’m sorry.”

I clenched my eyes shut, emotion washing over me. I didn’t want to do this again. I certainly didn’t want his apologies. They only made me feel pitied. “Please stop saying that.”

“I wish—”

“Your indecision isn’t making this easier.”

“And you think it’s easy for me?”

“Hey, kids,” said a familiar voice in front of us. Lindsey approached, Lacey at her side, the traitor.

“Lovely party,” Lindsey told Ethan, then looked at me. “And how are you faring this evening?”

“I’m good. And you?”

“Eh,” she said with a shrug. “I’m not as popular as our dear Sentinel, of course.” She put an arm around my shoulders. “We took her to Temple Bar last night, and she was a hit.”

Ah, so that was the game—showing me off in front of Lacey.

Ethan looked at me, his expression chill. I guessed he wasn’t impressed by my sudden popularity. “Meet me in my office in five minutes.”

It took me a moment to adjust to the topic change, but I glanced between him and Lacey. “There’s no need for you to leave the party. We can talk later.”

Before I could finish, that eyebrow was arched. “That was not a request.”

Without waiting for an answer, he walked away, a hand at Lacey’s back to guide her along.

Lindsey frowned. “What was that about?”

“I have no clue. Why do you think he wants me to meet him in his office?”

“Well, he’s either just figured out that you might win homecoming queen and he totally wanted that spot, or he wants to get down on one knee and apologize profusely for being an ass.”

We looked at each other. She grinned. “So, since that second part is damned unlikely, are you interested in the homecoming queen bit?”

“Will there be a tiara?”

“What’s a homecoming queen without one?” Then she put her hands on my arms. “Do me one favor—whatever he says about your relationship or your training or Lacey, don’t play bashful. Don’t play humble. You’ve been busting your ass this week, and you’ve been making him look good. You’ve earned that bravado. Promise?”

I promised.

I waited for fifteen minutes—fifteen minutes during which I forced myself to scan the books and trophies on his shelves, and tried to avoid wondering what—or who—had kept him.

I was leaning back against the conference table in his office when he walked in. He didn’t look up, but shut the doors behind him and moved to his desk. He shuffled papers for a moment before bracing his hands on the edges of the desktop.

“We’ll need to find a new physical challenge for you in order to ensure that your training is sufficient to allow you to progress.”

Okay, maybe he really did want to talk about training. “Okay.”

“This is also a good time for us to keep communications open with Gabriel. If the Packs aren’t leaving, that means they’re here. We should think about rules of engagement in case any more of them aren’t happy with that decision.”

“That seems appropriate.”

He finally looked at me, his eyes clouded. “Enough of the game, Merit. Enough with ‘Yes, Liege’ and ‘No, Liege.’ Quit rubber-stamping everything I say. You were more valuable when you were arguing with me.”

For once, I hadn’t been playing at acquiescence; I really did think it was appropriate. But his tone begged a response, and I was finally fed up with his back-and-forth.

“I was more ‘valuable’? I’m not an antique. Nor am I a toy or a weapon for you to manipulate.”

“I’m not playing with you, Sentinel.”

I lifted my eyebrows. I was only Sentinel when he was pissed. “And I’m not playing with you, Sullivan.”

We glared at each other for a moment, the room thick with unspoken words—the conversations we’d been avoiding.

“Watch it.”

“No,” I said, and his eyes widened. Ethan Sullivan, I imagined, wasn’t used to his employees disobeying him.

“The only thing you ever want from me,” I told him, “is for me to be something I’m not. If I argue, you complain I’m not being obedient. If I’m polite, you complain I’m rubber-stamping what you say. I can’t keep playing this game with you, this constant back-and-forth.”