Some Girls Bite (Chicagoland Vampires 1)

"We've met before, Christine. You know my father."

She frowned, her delicately arched brows knitting together, but then a smile blossomed. "Oh, my God. You're that Merit! Joshua's daughter. Of course!" She turned to the girls around her, who watched us with avid curiosity, and explained our connection.

"God, sit down!" Christine said, waving Novitiate Warner toward an empty chair at a table behind us. "Get the girl a chair, Warner."

On command, Warner pulled over a seat and offered it with a flourish. "My lady."

To sit or not to sit? I glanced back at Lindsey, who was chatting animatedly with Connor, her eyes fluttering as she laughed at something he'd said. I decided she was fine, so I took the seat and set about getting acquainted.

I chatted with Cadogan's newest vampires for hours. They explained why they'd opted to become vampires, and the reasons were surprisingly varied - illness, nobility, immortality, family connections (Michael had a great-great-great-grandfather killed in a duel between warring houses who'd become a Cadogan vampire), and career opportunities. I told my own story, leaving out the sordid details of my transformation to vampire, and felt the wall between us begin to dissolve. They were especially thrilled by my challenging Ethan, the guys making me repeat the story until they'd milked it of every detail. Ethan, they informed me, was a notoriously good fighter, with an almost unbroken record of wins against other vamps. They were amused that I'd challenged him, impressed that I'd held my own.

Honestly, I was surprised by their reaction. Not that they were interested in my story, but that they listened regardless of the mess I'd inadvertently made of their Commendation. I'd expected anger or snobbery, not acceptance.

We swapped stories until the wee hours of the morning, until the guests slowly filtered from the bar, until Sean and Colin - the resident bartenders, also Cadogan vamps -  cheerily evicted us. We walked out to our vehicles, and I gave Lindsey a ride back to Cadogan House. She spent the trip debating the merits of dating a baby vamp. At the end of the night, with minutes to spare before the dawn, I stepped out of the car, and laughed aloud at the giant banner that hung across Mal's and my front door.

It was a sheet of black plastic with "GUESS WHO'S OVER THE HILL!" printed in giant white letters across it. A skull and crossbones decorated one end, and the other bore cartoonish drawings of gravestones.

I snickered, guessing the culprit. The expressions of the front door guards were as blank as I'd ever seen them. I guess they weren't impressed by the joke. I stepped past them, unlocked the door, entered the house and locked up again. Inside the quiet living room, on the table next to the front door, was a note with my name on it.

Merit,

Congratulations on your Vampire Rush. Hope you had a great time and told Darth Sullivan to kiss off. Also hope you like the banner. It wasn't exactly what I wanted, but I liked the gravestones. Hard to find a perfecter gift for the newly undead. XOXO.

M

In a scratchy scrawl beneath Mallory's handwriting lay another message:

The banner was her idea.

CB

Smiling, I tucked the note into my pocket, fingered the pendant at my neck, and just as the sun began to push above the horizon, headed upstairs to bed.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ADVICE FOR LITIGATORS AND VAMPIRES:

NEVER ASK A QUESTION TO WHICH YOU DON'T

ALREADY KNOW THE ANSWER

"Get your ass out of bed."

Two nights in a row? I groaned and pulled a pillow over my head. "I'm trying to sleep."

The pillow was yanked back, and a cell phone was pressed against my ear in time to hear someone yell, "Get your ass out of bed, Sentinel, and get to the damn House! I don't know what kind of cushy job you expected, but around here, we earn our pay. You've got fifteen minutes."

Suddenly awake, and realizing who was on the phone, I grabbed the cell from Mallory's hand and fumbled through pillows and blankets until I was upright. "Luc? I can't make it across town in fifteen minutes."

There was a gravelly chuckle on the other end of the phone. "Then learn to fly, Tinkerbell, and get that pretty ass to the House." The call ended with an audible click, and I dropped it onto the bed and jumped to the floor.

"Hurry much?"

Cursing like a sailor on leave, I rifled through my closet. "I'm late," I vented. "The House vamps already think I'm a freak. And now I'm the prissy, princessy freak who can't show up to work on time. I didn't know he wanted me in at the crack of dusk."

Her voice almost irritatingly calm, Mal offered, "Check the door, hon."

"I don't have time for riddles, Mal. I'm in a hurry." I flipped through a long-sleeve T-shirt, then another, then another, and found nothing that Cadogan vamps would find even remotely acceptable.

"The door, Merit."

With a groan, I pushed back from the closet and glanced at the door. Hanging over my bedroom door was a short-sleeved black top and a pair of cuffed flat-front gray dress trousers. A pair of black high-heeled Mary Jane shoes sat in front of it. As an ensemble, it was simple, classy, and with the stiletto-heeled shoes, a little fierce. I glanced back at her. "What's this?"

"A first-day-of-work present."

My eyes filled with tears, and I wiped at them with the sleeves of the long-sleeved tee I'd slept in. "You take good care of me."

She sighed and moved closer, then pulled me into a hug. "You're on day eight of Merit's Brain Vacation. You've got until day ten. I expect you to have adjusted by then." She brushed the hair from my face, then tweaked a lock of it. "I miss brainiac Merit."

I smiled sheepishly. "I miss her, too."

She nodded. "Good. I'm going to run out and grab you a black suit. Since you've got a birthday coming up, I'm totally claiming that as your gift."

Birthday number twenty-eight was next week. And while I appreciated the thought, I wasn't crazy about the would-be present. "Not to be picky, Mal, but could I maybe get a birthday present that's not Ethan Sullivan-related?"

"Is there anything in your life right now that's not Ethan Sullivan-related?"

Hmm. She had a point.

"Now enough procrastinating! Go get in the shower, get these pretty clothes on, and go do that Sentinel thing."

I saluted her and followed the order.

It took twenty minutes to get dressed and in some semblance of order - to pull back my hair into a high ponytail, to brush out my bangs, to slide into the new clothes and fasten the tiny buckles on my three-inch-heeled Mary Janes, to grab my black messenger bag, to clip on my beeper - and another handful to get to Cadogan House. I threw the car into park as soon as I was near the gate and trotted in my heels - and quite a sight that was, I'm sure - down the sidewalk.