The House was quiet and empty when I finally bobbed up the front stairs and entered the foyer. I guessed the vamps were up and about, already assuming their positions and dedicating themselves to the Cadogan cause. I peeked into the front parlor, saw no one, and walked through to the second. Still no vampires.
"Looking for someone?"
Of all the luck. Ordering my face into what I hoped was a kind of meek chagrin, I spun to face Ethan. Not surprisingly, he was in black - a dark suit layered over a white shirt, no tie. He stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, his hair pulled back at the nape of his neck.
"I'm late," was my confession.
His brows lifted, a corner of his mouth almost, but not quite, tipped up in amusement. "On your first day? I'm shocked. I'd imagined you'd prove to be our most reliable, dependable employee."
I walked around him, peeked through a doorway that led from the parlor. It led to another hallway, also empty. "And I bet you became Master of Cadogan House because of your spectacular wit." I stopped and faced him, then put hands on my hips. "Where would I find Luc?"
"Please?"
"Please what?"
Ethan rolled his eyes. "That was your cue to show some respect to your employer."
"And you're suggesting that's you?"
In response, he lifted a single brow higher.
"The thing is," I pointed out, "since I've got the responsibility of ensuring the safety of the House, I've got some authority over you, too."
Ethan uncrossed his arms and put his hands on his hips. The posture was vaguely threatening, his tone only slightly less so. "Only if I was to act in a way that threatens the House. And I won't."
"But that's my determination to make, isn't it?"
He just stared at me. "Are you always this obstreperous?"
"I'm not obstreperous. Stubborn, arguably. And don't start in that I was causing trouble. I was only asking a question."
"You start causing trouble the minute you awaken. Case in point - you're late."
"And that brings us back full circle. Now where's Luc?" He lifted both brows, and I sighed. "God, you call me stubborn. Please, Sullivan, where's Luc?"
There was a pause as he slipped his hands into his pockets but then, finally, gave an answer that didn't involve a critique of my character. "Operations room. Down the stairs to the right. It's the first door on the left, before you get to the sparring room. If you suddenly discover you're fang deep in vampires, all intent on teaching you the manners you so obviously lack, you've gone too far."
I lightly grasped the edges of my shirt and dropped into a neat curtsy, batting my eyes coquettishly. "Thank you, Liege," I said, Gratefully Condescending.
"You're still not in Cadogan attire, you know."
I frowned, awash in the disheartening realization that I'd tried again, and failed, at playing Cadogan vampire. Was I ever going to be able to be good enough for Ethan? I doubted it, but faked a smile and cheekily offered, "You should have seen what I was going to wear."
Ethan rolled his eyes. "Get to work, Sentinel, but find me before you leave. I want to touch base about the murder investigations."
I nodded. Hard to be sarcastic when serial murder was the topic. "Sure."
Ethan gave me a final silent perusal, then turned and walked out of the room. I kept my eyes on the empty doorway even when he'd gone, still expecting him to pop back inside and add a final snarky comment. But silence filled the House, Ethan apparently content not to do further battle right now. Relieved, I took the stairs and veered to the right. The door he'd indicated was closed. I knocked, heard someone invite me in, opened the door and walked inside.
It was like stepping onto a movie set. The room was as handsomely decorated as the upper floors of Cadogan House, pale colors and tasteful furniture, but it was smeared with technology - screens, computers, printers. The ends of the rectangular room were anchored by long banks of computers and expensive-looking equipment, with security monitors mounted above. Black-and-white images of the Cadogan grounds flickered on the screens. An oval conference table sat in the middle of the room, a handful of vampires - including Luc and Lindsey - around it. And on the long wall behind the conference table was a seven-foot-wide display screen, projecting a series of pictures of a brunette.
Of me.
I stared, lips parted, at a picture of me dancing across a stage in a pale pink leotard, a whispery skirt around my thighs, hands arced above my head. There was a clicking sound, and the image changed. I was in college, wearing an NYU T-shirt. Click. I was at a library table, tucking a lock of hair behind an ear as I pored over a book. The picture was undisturbed by vampire glam - I sat cross-legged in jeans in a comfy chair, my hair pulled back in a messy knot, retro-punk glasses perched on my nose, Chuck Taylors on my feet.
I cocked my head to the side, staring at the text on the screen. "Canterbury Tales," I announced to the room. All heads turned to look at me as I stood, not a little unsteadily, in the doorway. "I was preparing for a class, in case you were curious."
Luc, who sat at the head of the table, tapped a screen that was inlaid into the tabletop, and the images disappeared, replaced by a Cadogan House logo. He still looked cowboyish today - tousled blond hair ruffling the collar of a faded, long-sleeved denim shirt, jeans, and boots, visible because he crossed his ankles on the table in front of him. He was the only vamp in the room in jeans. Everyone else was in the requisite Cadogan black, fitted tops and shirts that, presumably, made it easier for the guards to do their jobs than the usual stiff suits.
"Doing some research?" I asked.
"You'd be amazed what you can find on the Interwebs in a week," Luc said, "and security always checks out security." He pointed me toward a seat at the table next to
Lindsey, and across from a female vamp I didn't know - a tall, coltish redhead, who'd maybe topped out at twenty-two when she was turned. She grinned at me.
"Sit your ass down," Luc said. "It took you long enough to get here. You really need to consider moving into the House."
I smiled grimly at the other guards, none of whom I recognized beyond Lindsey, and took the proffered seat. "I can't imagine any way that'd be a good idea," I said, trying for a light tone. "I'd get pissed at Ethan and stake him in his sleep. No one wants that."
"Least of all Ethan," Lindsey pointed out, using a stick of what looked like beef jerky to gesture. "That's very magnanimous, Merit."