I grinned back at her. “Great.”
“Great, fine, wonderful, Jesus, let’s just get out of the car.”
We did.
CHAPTER 13
TWO’S COMPANY—THREE’S A MADHOUSE.
One day passed, then two, then four. It was surprisingly easy to fall into the routines of being a vampire. Sleeping during the day. Supplementing my diet with blood. Learning the ropes of Cadogan security (including the protocols) and doing my best to prepare for the responsibility of defending the House. At this early point, that generally involved pretending to be as competent as my actually skilled colleagues.
The protocols weren’t difficult to understand, but there were many to learn. They were divided, much like the katas, into categories—offensive action plans, defensive action plans. The bulk of them fell into the latter category—how we were supposed to react if groups attacked the House or any particular Cadogan vampire, how we’d structure counterattacks. The maneuvers varied by the size of the band of marauders and whether they used swords or magic against us. Whoever the enemy, our first priority was to secure Ethan, then the rest of the in-house vamps and the building itself, coordinating with other allies when possible. Once Chicago was secure, we were to check in with the Cadogan vamps who didn’t live in Cadogan House.
Under the House, beneath a small parking structure I was clearly too low in the chain to have a spot in, were access points to underground tunnels that ran parallel to the city’s extensive sewer system. From the tunnels, we could scramble to our assigned safe houses. Cheerily, we were only given the address of one house so the locations of the slate of them couldn’t be tortured out of us. I was working on managing my panic about the fact that I was now part of an organization that had a need for secret evacuation tunnels and safe houses, an organization that had to plan around the possibility of group torture.
I also learned, after nearly a week of watching Luc and Lindsey interact, that he was seriously hung up on her. The vitriol and sarcasm he dished out on a daily basis—and there was a lot of it—was clearly a plea for her attention. A dismally unsuccessful plea. Luc may have had it bad, but Lindsey wasn’t buying.
Ever curious, and that was going to burn my ass one of these days, I decided to ask her about it. We were in line, trays in hand in the first-floor cafeteria, picking from a selection of almost irritatingly healthy menu choices, when I asked her, “Do you want to tell me about you and everyone’s favorite cowboy?”
Lindsey pulled three cartons of milk onto her tray, taking so long to answer me that I wondered if she’d heard the question in the first place. Eventually, she shrugged. “He’s okay.”
That was all I got until we were seated around a wooden table in ladder-back chairs, dark with age. “Okay, but not okay enough?”
Lindsey folded open a milk carton and took a long drink, then shrugged with more neutrality than I knew she actually felt. “Luc’s great. But he’s my boss. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You were goading me a few days ago about having a fling with Ethan.” I lifted my sandwich and took a bite that was heavy on sprouts and light on flavor. Wrong kind of crunch, I concluded.
“Luc’s great. He’s just not for me.”
“You get along well.”
I pushed, and she broke. “And wouldn’t that be lovely,” she said, dropping her fork with obvious irritation, “until we broke up and then had to work together? No, thanks.” Without looking up at me, she started picking absently through a pile of Cheetos.
“Okay,” I said, in my most soothing voice (and wondering where she’d found the Cheetos), “so you like him.” Her cheeks flushed pink. “But—what?—you’re afraid to lose him, so you won’t date him in the first place?”
She didn’t answer, so I took her silence as implicit confirmation and let her off the hook. “Fine. We won’t talk about it anymore.”
Lindsey and I didn’t talk about it anymore, but that didn’t stop Luc from sliding in comments here and there, or her from baiting him with suggestions of rebellion. And while I really liked Lindsey, and I was glad we were on the same team, I sympathized with Luc. The girl had a sharp-edged wit, and it couldn’t have been easy for him to be constantly on the receiving end of it. Sarcasm between friends is all well and good, but she risked tipping the balance toward meanness.
On the other hand, that biting sarcasm came in handy, since Amber and Gabrielle had teamed up to flaunt Amber’s relationship with Ethan in my face. This time, we’d finished up our meal and were on our way back through the first floor to the stairs when they stopped in front of us.
“Hon,” Gabrielle asked Amber, inspecting her nails while blocking the stairway. “You wanna grab a drink tonight?”
Amber, dressed in a black velour tracksuit with BITE ME written across the front in red letters, glanced up at me. “Can’t. I have plans with Ethan tonight, and you know, darling”—she lifted an auburn brow—“how demanding he can be.”
I wanted to gag, right after raking my nails through that tacky velour, but was flustered enough by the message—and the fact that I’d seen Ethan take her up on the offer, slutty as it was—not to think of a quick retort.
Luckily, Captain Sassy Pants was nearby. With her usual aplomb, she plucked a Cheeto from a to-go bag and flicked it at Amber. “Scurry off, little woman.”
Amber made a sound of disgust, but took Gabrielle by the hand, and they retreated down the hallway.
“And I’ve made the world safe for one more day,” Lindsey said as we headed down the stairs.
“You’re a real pal.”
“I’m taking Connor out for a drink after shift. If I’m such a good pal, I think you need to join us.”
I shook my head. “Training tonight. Can’t.” That was but the first of the good reasons not to take her up on that offer.
Lindsey stopped on the stairs and grinned over at me. “Nice. I’d pick a little quality Catcher Bell time over me, too. Has he let you hold his sword yet?”
“I think Mallory’s got his sword well under control.”
We reached the Ops Room door. Lindsey stopped, nodded with approval. “Good for her.”
“For her, less so for me.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because he’s constantly at the house, and it’s beginning to feel a little small for the three of us.”
“Ah. You know the obvious solution to that—move in here.” She pulled open the door, and we walked inside the Ops Room and moved to the conference table while guards already at their stations tapped keys, watched screens, and talked into their headsets.
“Same answers as last time,” I whispered as we took seats at the table. “No, no, and no. I can’t live in the same house as Ethan. We’d kill each other.”
Lindsey crossed her legs and swiveled her chair to face me. “Not if you just avoid him. And look how well you’ve managed to avoid him for the last week.”
I gave her a look, but nodded when she lifted dubious brows. She was right—I’d avoided him, he’d avoided me, we’d avoided each other. And despite the vague sense of unease I had whenever I stepped across the threshold and into Cadogan, the fact that we had managed to avoid each other made living here at least possible.
“So,” she said, “your continuing to avoid him shouldn’t be a problem. And just think,” Lindsey whispered, “it’s practically the O.C. in here. You’re missing out on a lot of excitement by heading back to Wicker Park every morning.”
“Yeah, that’s really the selling point you need to focus on. ’Cause these last few weeks have been dullsville otherwise.”
To be fair, it was kind of a selling point. I did enjoy other folks’ drama. I just didn’t need any more of my own.
Catcher, Mallory, and Jeff were at the gym when I arrived. I wasn’t sure why Jeff was there, but since he and Mal were the closest thing I had to cheerleaders, I didn’t so much mind the extra bodies.
Or wouldn’t have minded, had I arrived seconds later, and missed Catcher pawing my roommate next to the water fountain.
I cleared my throat loudly as I strode past, which did nothing to prompt a disentangling of their bodies.
“Cats in heat,” I said to Jeff, who sat sprawled in a chair in the gym, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes closed.
“Are they still at it? It’s been twenty minutes.”
I caught the tiny bit of wistfulness in his voice.