"You are a constant source of wonder."
"And thus appropriate that I prefer the 'fishes and loaves' method. Behold," I said, pulling the cake in half lengthwise, then holding up the two chocolate slabs. "I've doubled the number of cakes!"
"You have a strong tendency for silliness, you know that?"
"It's one of my better qualities," I said, nibbling on the edge of the cake. And as if the chocolate sponge was a drug itself, the flavor almost instantly sent a calming pulse through my blood.
Ethan took his own bite. "Not bad, Sentinel."
"I have any number of issues," I admitted.
"Taste in food is not one of them."
For a moment, we ate our snacks silently in the garden.
"I told you once that you were my weakness," he said. "But also my strength. I said it before betraying your trust. I know that now, and I am so very sorry." He paused. "What would I have to do to convince you to give me another chance?"
His voice was just more than a whisper, but the sentiment was strong enough that I had to look away, tears brimming in my eyes. It was a legitimate question - but not one for which I had an easy answer. What would it take for me to believe in Ethan again? To believe that he'd chosen me, for better or worse, and regardless of the politics?
"I'm not sure you could convince me otherwise. I'm too fast a learner."
"And I taught you that I would betray you if the opportunity arose?"
This time, I met his gaze. "You've taught me that you will always be concerned with next steps and appearances, with strategy and alliances. You've taught me that I could never be sure you really wanted me for me - and not just because I helped you meet some end, or because it was convenient. You've taught me that I could never be sure you wouldn't change your mind if breaking things off gave you a strategic advantage."
Ethan's smile drooped, and for the first time, he faced the possibility that his actions would have unalterable repercussions. "You don't think I can change?"
I softened my tone. "I don't think a relationship is any good if I have to ask you to change. Do you?"
He looked away, then sighed haggardly. "This feels like a battle I cannot win."
"Love shouldn't be a battle."
"And yet, if it wasn't worth the fight, what would be the point?"
We were quiet long enough that crickets began to chirp in the garden plots around us.
"Is there anything you'd like to tell me about Jonah?"
I nearly jumped at the question, my heart suddenly thudding at the potential my secret had been discovered. "No," I answered. "Why do you ask?"
"He seems to have some interest in you. Are you well acquainted?"
Thank God I already had at least part of an answer prepared. "We talked outside Temple Bar the night of the attack." Absolute truth.
"Anything else?" His gaze was suspicious, his eyes tracking across my face as if trying to gauge my sincerity.
"No."
"Don't lie to me, Merit."
"Are you asking me not to lie to you because we're friends, because we were lovers, or because I'm a vampire of your House?"
His eyes widened. "I expect your honesty for all three reasons."
"You expect - you are owed - my loyalty.
That's not entirely the same thing."
This time, his eyes narrowed. "What's going on? What haven't you told me?"
"Nothing that I can share right now." And there it was. I may not have told him about the Red Guard, their invitation to me, and Jonah's role in the organization, but I'd now confessed that I hadn't been honest with him, that I'd held things back.
He blinked back shock. "You have information you won't share with me?"
"I have information that isn't mine to share," I clarified. "The information belongs to others; I know it only coincidentally, and I won't do them the disservice of making the decision to share it.
Not when they've chosen not to."
His gaze was calculating. Evaluating. After a moment, he nodded. "So be it," he said. While his capitulation was a victory for me as Sentinel, I still felt like I'd lost something, like I'd broken some personal bond. I'd placed being House Sentinel over being his friend and confidante.
I'd done the same thing for which I'd chided him.
Ethan stood up and balled the cellophane in his hand, moving around me and stepping back onto the path. He stopped for a moment, before glancing back over his shoulder. "It's a difficult balance, isn't it, to put others before your own needs?"
I didn't care to have my own hypocrisy pointed out to me. I looked away.
When I glanced back at the path again, he was gone. My mood wasn't any better when I returned to the second floor. My head was beginning to throb again, this time for different reasons. I put the box of Mallocakes back in the kitchen, then walked back to my room. My hand was on the door when I heard a voice behind me.
"He's not as cold as he seems, you know."
I glanced back. Charlie, Darius's assistant, stood in the hallway, arms crossed over his chest.
"Excuse me?" I asked.
He gestured toward the door. "Can we go inside?"
"Um, sure," I said, then opened the door.
Charlie walked inside. I followed, then shut the door behind us.
He sat on the edge of my bed and linked his hands in his lap. "Darius is dedicated to the Houses, and he has no greater interest in drama here in the States than he does in the UK. The problem is," Charlie said, looking down at the floor, "he is a strong believer in hierarchy. The Masters should control the Houses. Problems beyond the Houses are the concerns of the GP, and only the GP."
I liked Charlie's honesty, but I had no doubts about where his loyalties lay. "Be that as it may, the GP hasn't actually taken any steps to control Celina or keep peace in Chicago. We are doing what we can to keep the city together in spite of what she's doing."
Charlie shook his head. "Has it occurred to you that you're playing into her hands? That by acknowledging Celina and bringing her activities to light - instead of ignoring her antics - you end up giving her the very thing she wants?"
"Which is?"
"Attention. By the Houses, the GP, humans, the press. Celina wants to be seen, to be heard.
She wasn't getting sufficient attention as a Master, so she sabotaged that relationship in order to exchange it for something different - the attention of humans. And when she learned that she wasn't the beloved of humankind, she acted out again. Each time you seek her out, each time you fight back, you give her a reason to come back again."