He was quiet for a moment until he asked gravely, “We aren’t trying to stop them?”
That made me sit up a little straighter. I’d assumed, being House Sentinel, that if some kind of mission was going down I’d be a part of it. Clearly that wasn’t the case.
“Oh,” I said, not happy to discover there were secret plans afoot and I hadn’t been included.
“Stopping the story isn’t controversial, not for vampires anyway,” Ethan said. “Stopping the raves is. Raves happen outside the House establishment, but that doesn’t mean the Houses don’t know they occur. And I have no authority over other Masters, over other Houses’ vampires, any more than I do the city’s Rogues.”
Much to your own chagrin, I thought.
“Frankly, although plans are in the works, largely through your grandfather’s efforts, it’s unlikely we can put a stop to them completely. Your grandfather has excellent connections, strong mediating skills, and a loyal staff. But vampires, being vampires, will drink.”
“And so we spin,” I said.
“The first front is the press,” he agreed. “It’s not the only front, but it’s the battle we fight tonight.”
I blew out a breath, not eager for the skirmish—Merit versus the world she left behind.
“It’s going to be fine,” Ethan said, and I glanced over at him with surprise. Both that he’d read me so well and that he’d responded supportively.
“I hope so,” I told him. “I’m not thrilled about the possibility of running into Nick again, and you know how I feel about my father.”
“But not why,” Ethan softly said. “Why the animosity? This breach between you?”
I frowned out the window, unsure how much I wanted to share with him. How much ammunition I wanted to give him.
“I wasn’t the daughter my father wanted,” I finally said.
Silence. Then, “I see. Are you close to Charlotte and Robert?”
“I wouldn’t say there’s animosity there, and we stay in touch, but they’re not on speed dial.” I didn’t tell him that I hadn’t talked to my siblings in a month. “We just don’t have that much in common.” Robert was preparing to take over my father’s business; Charlotte was married to a physician and populating the world with tiny new Merits. Well, Mrs. Dr. Corkburger-Merits.
Oh, yeah. Corkburger.
“Do they share your animosity toward your father?”
“Not really,” I told him, looking out the window. “I didn’t acclimate well to the socializing. Charlotte and Robert did. We were all born into it, but they thrived. They’re, I don’t know, equipped for it. For that kind of lifestyle, that kind of attention, for the constant competition. I think because of that there was less friction between them and my father. Their relationship was, I don’t know, easier?”
“And what did you do while they were enjoying the Merit advantage?”
I chuckled. “I spent a lot of time in libraries. I spent a lot of time with books. I mean, my home life was peaceful. My parents didn’t fight. We had, materially, everything we needed. I was fortunate in many ways, and I realize that. But I was a dreamer, not much interested in the societal goodies.” I laughed. “I’m a reader, not a fighter.”
Ethan rolled his eyes at the admittedly lame joke. “And clearly not a comedian,” he said, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. He guided the Mercedes off the freeway and onto a divided highway. I watched neighborhoods pass, some houses lit, others dark, human families engaged in the act of living.
I glanced over at him. “We’re getting close. What’s the plan?”
“Ingratiation and groundwork,” he said, eyes scanning the road. “You reintroduce yourself to these people, let them know you’re back and that you belong. That everything due to the Merits—the respect, the access, the approbation—is due to you as well. We determine what we can about this supposed story, Jamie’s involvement, Nick’s involvement.” He shook his head. “Your news of Nick’s visit muddies the water somewhat, and we need to know where we stand. And based on that information, if your father is there, we consider whether there are ways he can help.”
My stomach twisted in unpleasant anticipation. I was more than willing to give up what was “due” to me as a Merit in order to avoid my father. But this was about access, about neutralizing a threat. I was a big enough girl to take one for the team.
“And we’re the bribe?” I asked.
Ethan nodded. “Your father is an ambitious man, with ambitious goals for his business and his family. You provide him access to a certain segment of the population.”
“A fanged segment,” I added. “Let’s not doubt his real interest: I’m delivering him a Master vampire.”
“Whether it’s one or both of us he wants to see, remember who you are. Neither a Master nor merely a Merit, but a powerful vampire in her own right.”
We passed into rural, wooded acreages, a sign we were nearing our destination. We’d just turned onto a tree-lined road, dark in the absence of streetlights, when Ethan—without warning—slowed and pulled the Mercedes onto the shoulder. When the engine was off and the car silent, he flicked on the overhead light and looked at me.
I watched him, waiting, wondering why he’d stopped the car.
“Celina’s release concerns me,” he finally said.
“Concerns you?”
“As you know, in the past, the GP’s focus has been the protection of Housed vampires and assimilation into human society. Ensuring our immortality.”
I nodded. The precursor to the GP had been created in the aftermath of the First Clearing. Survival was the directive.
“And you’re concerned that Celina’s release signals what, a new era?”
Ethan paused, ran a hand through his hair, and finally nodded. “Humans will die. Vampires will die. I can’t imagine any other end to the story.”
He quieted again, and this time when he looked at me, his expression was different—full of determination. Motivational speech on its way, I assumed.
“We have reminded humans about our existence. Tonight, we remind them of our connections. We will need every advantage we can get, Merit. For whether her plans are long term, short term, some sort of minor insurrection, outright rebellion, the demand of political rights—something is coming.”
“Something wicked.”
Ethan nodded. “The thumbs have been pricked, at least proverbially.”
I raised a hand to my neck, now healed and free of scars, once torn out by a vampire she’d convinced to kill me. “Not proverbially,” I said. “Whatever spell she’s ‘conjuring,’ she’s already spilled blood, turned vampires against their Masters, convinced the GP—and treasonous or not, I’ll admit I’m not impressed so far—that the death of humans is merely collateral damage.”
He made a sound of agreement, but gripped the wheel again, thumbs tapping nervously against the leather wrap. Since we were still parked, I assumed there was more to it.
I looked over at him, tried to ferret out his motivation, some clue as to what else remained. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“I’ve talked to Malik and Luc,” he said, almost defensively, as if I was questioning his adherence to his own chain of command.
“That’s not what I asked you.”
“You’re Sentinel of my House.”
Too easy an answer, I thought, and too quick a response. “Why, Ethan?”
“I don’t know if I’m strong enough to say no to her.”