Friday Night Bites (Chicagoland Vampires 2)

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."

This time, it took me a moment to respond. "To say no?"

Voice softer, words slower, he said, "If she tries to convince me to join her cause by using blood or glamour against me, I'm not sure that I can say no."

You could have heard a pin drop in the car. I stared forward, shocked at the admission, that he'd share this info - this weakness - with me. The girl he'd asked to be his Consort. The girl who'd refused him. The girl who'd witnessed, firsthand, his betrayal by Amber. The girl who'd seen the look on his face when Amber confessed her sin, her involvement in Celina's conspiracy.

The girl who'd felt the thrust of Celina's glamour, and powered through it. But so had he.

"You said no in the park," I reminded him. "When she confessed her involvement in the murders, when she wanted you on her side, you said no."

Ethan shook his head. "She wanted to be caught, to play martyr. That was hardly the extent of her glamour, the tools she's using against the GP."

"And Malik and Luc?"

"They aren't as strong as me." The unfortunate implication being that if Ethan was worried about his ability to withstand the glamour, Luc and Malik had little hope.

"Glamour," Ethan said, "is about convincing someone to do something they wouldn't ordinarily do. It's not like alcohol - Celina didn't lower the inhibitions of the GP members. She has controlled them."

Psychic manipulation, all but undetectable. Thank God the CIA hadn't gotten wind of that yet.

"And because the power is a psychic one, the only trace that she has used her power in this fashion is the magic that leaks when she performs it. Vampires who can glamour can convince the subjects of their glamour that they have an altogether different desire.

It's easier, of course, on weaker minds, on those who could have been convinced with but a little pushing. It's harder on those with firmer minds. On those more used to finding their own paths."

Ethan looked at me and lifted his brows, as if willing me to understand.

"You think I repelled her glamour because I'm stubborn?"

"I think it is, perhaps, part of the reason."

The general absurdity of the conversation aside - debating the metaphysics of vampire glamour - I got a kick out of his admission, and couldn't stop my grin. "So, you're saying my stubbornness is a blessing."