Friday Night Bites (Chicagoland Vampires 2)

"You took Navarre from me. All of it, all of them, from me. Certainly, there are benefits - to take a House from a Master, a Presidium member, it's hardly done. That gained me no little bit of sympathy. So thank you, pet, for that. Nevertheless, Navarre was mine, bricks and mortar, blood and bone. You take from me, I take from you."

"Is that why you set Peter up?" I asked. "Because you're pissed that your plan to take over the Chicago Houses didn't quite pan out? You figured starting a world war between shifters and vampires was the next best thing?"

She smiled coyly. "Oh, I do like you, Merit. I like your... moxie. But the war wouldn't just be between shifters and vampires, would it? It was Cadogan House that threatened the Breckenridge boy. The war would be between Nicholas and Ethan. Between the old lover and the new, yes?"

I nearly growled at her.

"At any rate," she said, "two of Chicago's Houses would remain uninvolved. Untainted by the scandal. Grey House. Navarre House."

Celina reached up and fingered a thin gold chain around her neck. Moonlight glinted off the disk of gold that hung from it.

My stomach tightened.

It was a House medal. A shiny new pendant to replace the one taken from her by the GP.

"Where'd you get the medal, Celina?"

She smiled evilly and rubbed the medal like she expected a genie to pop out.

"Let's not be na?ve, Merit. Where do you think I got it? Or perhaps I should ask, from whom?"

I suddenly had a little less sympathy for Navarre's new Master.

Celina may have kept her sway over his House, but I'd be damned if she poisoned mine. "You've made your play, Celina, twice now, and you lost. Learn your lesson - stay away from Cadogan House."

"Just the House, Merit? Or its Master as well?"

I felt the blush rise along my cheekbones.

She blinked at me, and her eyes - and smile - grew wide. She laughed with obvious delight. "Oh, I had no idea my luck would be that good. Are you sleeping with him, or just lusting after him? And let's not feign misunderstanding, Sentinel. I meant the one you want, not the one you have." She looked up, her expression thoughtful. "Or maybe the one you lost, if I learned anything from that last little scene."

"You're hallucinating," I said, but my stomach knotted. She'd been there, had watched Morgan and me fight. Had he set this up? Had he asked to talk to me outside in order to get me out here where she could find me?

Celina looked me over, head to toe, an appraisal. She'd kept her glamour in check, but I felt the slinky tendrils of it branching out, testing. "You're not his type, I hear. Ethan does prefer blondes." She cocked her head to the side. "Or redheads, I suppose. But I guess you know all about that. I hear you were a firsthand witness to his... prowess?" She looked at me thoughtfully, apparently expecting an honest appraisal.

She was right - I had been a witness to his "prowess," having inadvertently walked in while Ethan was servicing Amber. But I wasn't about to share that information with her.

"I couldn't care less who or what he prefers."

"Mmm-hmm. Does that self-righteous anger keep you warm at night?"

I knew she was baiting me. Of course she was baiting me. Unfortunately, she'd picked the right bait, the conversation I was sick of having, the accusations I was sick of defending against. I could feel my blood begin to warm, the vampire I'd so carefully, cautiously, forced down peeking through, wondering at the worry, the adrenaline that woke her from sleep. My breathing quickened, and I knew my eyes had silvered. My fangs descended, and I let them.

I wouldn't fight her; I wasn't stupid. But Catcher had taught me about the benefits of bluffing. Assuming I could keep my vampire in check, I owed it to the impotent Presidium to see what happened when I played Celina's game.

I took a step forward, a step toward her, and ran the tip of my tongue across the tip of a needle-pointed canine. Vampire aggressive behavior. "Do you want to play, Celina? Do you want to know how strong I am? Do you want to see?"

She stared at me, magic flowing full force now, and I watched her eyes silver, like flipped coins catching the light. She took a step toward me, still eighteen or twenty feet between us.

"You're hardly worth his time, Sentinel. Why would you be worth mine?"

I took another step forward. "You came here, Celina. To find me."

"You'll never be as good as me."

There it was. The crack in the beguiling facade. Celina, beautiful and powerful and self-absorbed to a fault, was insecure.

I repeated the mantra. "You came here, Celina. To find me."

She stilled, glared at me beneath half-lidded eyes, shadows and moonlight sharpening the angles of her face. She took a breath, seemed to calm herself, and smiled. And then she fought back.

"I know who you are, Merit. I know about your family." She stepped forward. "I know about your sister."

I flinched, the words as effective as a slap across the face.

Another step, and this time she grinned. She knew she'd landed a blow.

"Yes," she said. "Best of all" - I could see the whites of her eyes and as if the cant of the words wasn't threat enough, the hatred in her gaze - "I know about that night on campus."

"Because you planned it," I reminded her, my breath coming faster, my heart beginning to thud again.

"Mmm-hmm," she said, tapping a red-manicured finger against her chest. "I had plans for you, I'll admit. But I wasn't the only one with plans."

My heart sped at the insinuation. "Who else had plans?"

"You know, I forget. But it's a pity you've had Peter extradited. He has so many interesting connections around town, don't you think?"

It was trickery, I reminded myself. She was behind it. She'd planned my attack, my death, to wreak havoc in the city. She'd planned it. But she wasn't the only one with knowledge, I reminded myself.

"I know about Anne Dupree, Celina. Did you and Edward have fun plotting and planning? Did George cry out when you beat him to death?"

Her smile faltered. "Bitch."

I was really beginning to dislike Navarre vampires. Thinking they had much arrogance in common, I used the phrase I'd used before on her apparent protege. "Bite me, Celina."

She snapped her fangs at me. I flipped the thumb guard on my scabbard.

All right, that's it. "Bring it, dead girl."

She growled. I gripped the handle with my right hand, my heart thudding like a drum inside my chest.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, I thought, for baiting the crazy, but a little too late.