Hard Bitten (Chicagoland Vampires 4)

"It's not that I think humans don't believe we're threats," he added. "They just aren't entirely sure what to do with us."

Shifters were generally considered the most powerful supernatural beings, at least of the groups I knew about so far. I considered humans' ignorance on that point a benefit.

"And the shifters who attacked the House?"

His expression darkened. "They're working their way through the penal system just like any average human criminal."

While I grimaced, Scott clapped his hands together. "Welcome, all, to Grey House. I appreciate your attendance here, and hope this can be a step toward friendship among us. Shall we dine?"

Before we could answer, men and women in chef's whites began pouring into the room bearing silver dome-topped trays. I took a seat beside Ethan as the trays were deposited before us. Two vampires traveled around the table with carafes of lemon water and bottles of a deep red wine, pouring as the vampires requested. Only Ethan, Jonah, and I opted for the wine; I guess we needed a drink worse than the others.

Other vampires lifted the domes, revealing a meal that might have been described as "Predator's Delight." Loins, roasts, cutlets.

Sausages, steaks, filets. All laid out with artistic perfection. Oh, to be sure, there were sides, as well. Small fingerling potatoes, corn, and a grain salad of some kind. But in a room of vamps and shifters - predators among humans - the carnivorous urge was undeniable.

My stomach chose that moment to growl in a rumble that nearly echoed across the room.

As my cheeks heated, all eyes turned to me. I smiled lightly.

Gabriel smiled back, then lifted his water glass when the chefs disappeared from the room again.

"Thank you, Mr. Grey, for the opportunity to share grain and beast with you. This is a meaningful gesture to us, and we hope our families can continue to commune in peace in the years to come."

"Hear, hear," Darius said, raising his glass, as well. "We are now neighbors in this fine city, and we hope that our days of strife are behind us, and that we can work together in peace and allegiance for millennia to come."

Gabriel offered a polite nod and gestured with his glass again, but didn't exactly commit to the "allegiance" bit. Vamps collected formal allegiances like baseball cards; shifters weren't exactly crazy about that kind of thing.

"And since I'd truly rather Merit focus on her meal than on me," Gabriel said with a wink, "let's stop talking and start eating."

But, of course, that would have been much too simple.

I don't know why it surprised me that Scott offered up a mean feast. The man loved the Cubs, he had an amazing warehouse turned House, and Benson's was his House bar. Those facts screamed "Quality Master."

The food was no exception. The meats were choice cuts that even my particular father might have served to dinner guests. They were tender enough to make a knife irrelevant, and seared to perfection on the outside. He couldn't have done better, especially for a group of predators.

Honestly, if I'd been a guy, I would have finished my plate, relaxed in my chair, and unfastened the top button of my pants. Food that good deserved undisturbed digestion.

Unfortunately, it wasn't to be.

I'd just taken another sip of wine - grimacing at how dry it was - when the door at one end of the room burst open. Five vampires rushed in, some in black street clothes, but a couple wearing blue and yellow hockey-style jerseys with GREY HOUSE in capital letters across the front. They all had swords in hand and malice in their expressions.

"This is how you treat us?" asked one Grey House vamp who wore number thirty-two.

"Some f**king shifter and his bitch get fed like kings?"

The Grey House vamp on the other side wore number twenty-seven. "And the GP, too? Shit is falling down here in the States, and we're serving steak to a vamp from the UK? Does that seem right to you?"

Within seconds, my dagger was in hand. And I wasn't the only one on alert.

Scott Grey jumped out of his chair and marched to the end of the table. "Matt, Drew, back the f**k off. Drop the swords, and march right back to the door."

The Grey House vamps wavered, probably the result of some mental Master juju Scott was throwing their way. But the rest of them didn't seem to be affected at all.

I carefully got to my feet and moved toward them, spinning the dagger in my palm as the anticipation built. All five vamps wobbled a little on their feet, their movements erratic, their eyes darting around the room. As I moved incrementally closer, I could see the cause in their eyes - they were almost wholly silver.

"Scott, it's V," I warned him.

"Any easy solution for handling them?" he called back.

"Not without a sorcerer," I told him. "We'll have to knock them out the old-fashioned way."

"Then that's what we'll do," Ethan said, stepping beside me, a knife from the table in his hand.

"Nice of you to join us, Sullivan," I teased, my gaze following the vamps as they spread out in a line, ready to rumble, whatever the cost. And with Darius, an Apex, and three Masters in the room, the cost would be high. . . .

"Let's go, old man," Thirty-two said. "You want to fight your own vampires? You want to take his side over theirs?"

"Liege," Jonah said, "as your captain, I'm going to request you move into a safer position."

"Request it all you want, Red," Scott told him, a mirthless smile on his face. "But that's not going to stop me from putting these dumbshits in their places. That's what they get for doing V."

Ditto what he said, Sentinel, Ethan silently told me. I suppose he wasn't going to let me argue he should just sit this one out.

The Grey House vamps seemed equally eager to brawl. "Oh, go to hell, man," Twenty-seven said.

"Only if you join me," Scott said pleasantly, and before another second passed, the room erupted into violence. Jonah and Scott took the Grey House vamps. Gabriel, Darius, and Tonya were sitting this one out. That left the Rogues to me, Ethan, and Morgan.

"I got the one in the middle," I called out.

"That leaves the other two for us," Ethan said.

"Greer, take the one on the left."

And with that, we moved. I slipped between the in-House squabble to the angry-looking Rogue behind them, his eyes just as silver as the Grey vamps' had been. He was a big guy, and beads of sweat formed at his temple as he fought the rush of the drug. But this guy didn't care whether it was rage or drugs fueling his attack.

He bared his teeth and moved in.