Some Girls Bite (Chicagoland Vampires 1)

He furrowed his brow. "Do you think the vampire who bit you first intended to let you live?"

"I didn't have a chance to ask him."

"Don't be naive."

I'd seen the press conference about Jennifer Porter's death, knew about the similarities between our attacks. So, unable to argue that point, I made another. "My life will never be the same."

"Yes, Merit," he said, frustration in his voice, "your human life will never be the same. It was, regrettably, taken from you. But we've given you another."

"It should have been my decision."

"I was a little short on time, Merit. And given that you are fully aware of the choice I had to make, this petulant attitude is beneath you."

I didn't disagree, but who was he to tell me that? My throat constricted with emotion. "Excuse me for not having adjusted to the fact that my life has been turned upside down. Excuse me for not reacting to that with grace."

"Or gratefulness," he muttered, and I wondered if he knew he'd been loud enough for me to hear him. "I gave you a life. And I made you like me. Like the rest of your brothers and sisters. Are we such monsters?"

I wish I could have said yes. I wanted to say yes, to feign horror.

But a tear ran down my cheek, propelled by some combination of rage and guilt that I wasn't as repelled by Ethan Sullivan as I'd planned to be. I wiped away the tear with the back of my hand.

Ethan looked at me for a long time, and I could read the disappointment in his eyes. It bothered me, that disappointment, more than I cared to admit.

He steepled his fingers together on the desk, leaned forward. "Then perhaps I made a mistake. Cadogan House was allowed twelve new vampires this year, Merit. That makes you one-twelfth of my allotment. Do you think you were worth it? Do you think you can contribute to Cadogan in sufficient measure to repay that investment? Was my bringing you into the House a better decision than saving someone else to whom I might have given a new life?"

I stared at him, the value of the gift he'd given me, however much I hadn't wanted to become one of them, sinking in. I slid into the chair before me.

Ethan nodded. "I thought that might do it. Now, your objections to having been changed have been duly noted. So for the moment, what say we move on? I don't want that between us, even if you have decided I'm your mortal enemy." He lifted brows in challenge. I didn't bother to deny it.

I paused, then asked, "Duly noted?"

Ethan smiled knowingly. "Noted and recited in front of a witness." His gaze flicked to the corner of the room, and he gazed at Mallory with curiosity. "I haven't met your companion."

"Mallory Carmichael, my roommate."

Mallory glanced up from the thick book she was perusing. "Yo."

"And your backup, I presume," he said, rising and walking to a bar tucked into the bank of bookshelves on the left side of the room. He poured amber-colored liquor into a chubby glass and watched me over the rim as he sipped its contents. "I've met your father."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

He cradled the glass in his hands. "You aren't close to your family?"

"My father and I don't get along. We have different priorities. He's solely focused on building his financial kingdom."

"While Merit's not," Mallory offered from her corner. "She's perfectly happy dreaming about Lancelot and Tristan."

"Lancelot and Tristan?" he asked.

Embarrassed at the love-struck teen implication, I stammered out, "I am - was - working on my dissertation. Before."

Ethan finished his drink and put the glass on the bar, then leaned back against it, arms crossed. "I see."

"Honestly, I doubt that you do. But if you hoped changing me would help you access Merit money, you're out of luck. I don't have it - either the money or the access."

Ethan looked momentarily startled, and didn't meet my gaze when he pushed off the bar and moved back to the desk. When he was seated again, he frowned at me - not in anger, I thought, but in puzzlement. "What if I said that I could give you things? Would that ease the transition?"

Across the room, Mallory groaned.

"I'm not my parents."

I was the recipient of another long stare, but this one held a glimmer of respect. "I'm beginning to see that."

Finally finding my footing - he may have been a vampire, but he was subject to human prejudices just like everyone else - I relaxed back into the chair, crossing my legs and arms, and arching a brow at him.

"Is that what you thought? That I'd see the Armani and the Hyde Park address, and I'd be so excited I'd forget that I hadn't consented?"

"Perhaps we've both misjudged the situation," he allowed. "But if there's such animus in your family, why do you go by 'Merit'?"

I glanced over at Mallory, who was picking a bit of lint from one of the heavy velvet curtains that lined the windows. She was one of only a handful of friends who knew the entire story, and I wasn't about to add Ethan Sullivan to that group.

"It's better than the other option," I told him.

Ethan seemed to consider that before averting his gaze to a pile of papers on his desk. He shuffled them. "And you aren't undead. You aren't undead, or the walking dead, and Buffy isn't a reliable anatomical resource. You didn't die that night. Your blood was taken and replaced. Your heart never stopped beating. You're better now, genetically, than you were before. A predator. The top of the food chain. I've made you an immortal, assuming you manage to keep out of trouble. If you follow the rules, you can have a long, productive life as a Cadogan vampire. Speaking of, did Helen give you everything you need? You received a copy of the Canon?"

I nodded.

"Have you had blood yet?"

"Bagged blood was delivered to the house, but I haven't had any. To be honest, it didn't look that appetizing."

"You got plenty during the transition, so the thirst hasn't hit you yet. Give it another day. You'll want it badly enough when First Hunger strikes." Ethan's lips tipped up, and he smiled. It was a little disarming - that smile. He looked younger, happier, more human. "Did you say bagged blood?"

"That's what was delivered. Why is that funny?"

"Because you're a vampire of the Cadogan line. You can drink directly from humans or other vampires. Just don't kill anyone."

I put a hand across my stomach, as if the touch could still the greasy wave that suddenly rolled through it. "I'm not going to bite someone. I don't want to drink at all, bagged or otherwise, people or not. You can't just go around and" - I waved a hand in the air - "chew on people."