House Rules (Chicagoland Vampires 7)

"You've talked to Catcher?" I liked that news. It suggested - even if only a little - that things were getting back to normal.

"We've talked. We're talking. Lots and lots of talking and then more talking and conversing and communicating and talking." She snapped her thumb and fingers together, mimicking a mouth. "But you're not here to talk about us." Mallory narrowed her gaze at me, and I felt a faint prickle of magical interest - at least before Berna pinched her on the arm.

"Ow!" Mallory said, rubbing the spot, which was already turning red. "Damn it, Berna. He said I could use it a little bit."

"You use sparingly," she said, slapping one hand against the other, then gesturing at me. "Look at girl. She skinny vampire. She is in love, but is far away from lover. You don't need magic to know this." She tapped her temple. "You need eyeball."

They both looked at me. I nodded sheepishly.

"When you're right, you're right," Mallory said. "And since he took a stake for her, which pretty much proves he's in it for the long haul, I'm betting she's the current source of her own drama?"

I hated that conclusion. Not because it was wrong, but because it was humiliating. I was twenty-eight years old and headed for immortality. Was I destined to be forever awkward, at least where love was concerned?

And how often had I screwed things up when she wasn't around, and didn't even know it?

Mallory turned to Berna. "I'm taking fifteen, and we're moving this discussion upstairs."

"You can have here! I will not listen."

"You will listen," Mallory said, "and you'll tell your book club exactly what you heard."

"But is like Twilight in real life!" Berna protested. "Sparkles!"

But Mallory had already grabbed my hand and was pulling me toward the door.

"Ignore the half-naked shifters," she said, and before I had time to ask what she was talking about, we were rushing through the back room of the bar, where three or four - I didn't have time to count - shifters, most with their shirts off, sat at the old vinyl table playing cards. I'm pretty sure Gabriel was one of them.

And then we were in the kitchen, my retinas seared by the glow of gleaming pecs and abs, and she was dragging me up the stairs to the tiny bedroom where she'd been staying since she'd started her black magic recovery with hard work, shifter oversight, and lots of KP duty.

Mallory slammed the door shut and fell onto the small twin bed that was tucked against the wall. "Oh, my God, Merit, I'm going to kill her."

"Please don't," I said. "That would not improve shifter-sorcerer relations in Chicago."

"She's so nosy! And she's always telling me what do to!"

"She's like the parents you never had?"

She looked up at me. "Is that what it's like?"

"I'm afraid so," I said, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"All right. I won't kill her. For now. And now that we have some privacy, why don't you spill what you did?"

This was the hard part, given the oath of secrecy I'd already inadvertently breached.

"I can't give you all the details," I said. "Suffice it to say he found out something I should have told him. And he kind of found out from Lacey Sheridan."

Mallory's eyes narrowed, just like they were supposed to. She remembered Lacey from her last trip to Chicago. "Why is she here?"

"To help with the transition from the GP. She's got a good relationship with Darius, and there was hope she might be able to smooth things over a bit. But since they're currently trying to take the House, that didn't work."

"Yeah, Catcher told me. What's that got to do with you?"

I struggled to find a way to give her the high points without revealing the secret. "Confidentially, while Ethan was gone, I agreed to help a friend in a way that helps the House, too. And I've continued to help since Ethan's been back. But I didn't tell Ethan about it, and then Lacey found out and told Ethan for me. Ethan was not thrilled."

The look on her face didn't exactly comfort me. "You betrayed him."

"I did not betray him. I understand that he's feeling betrayed, but I did what I thought was right. What I believed - and still believe - was right."

"Does this have something to do with that Jonah guy?"

Eyes wide, I turned to stare at her. "How do you even know about him?"

"Catcher," she dryly said. "He's in full-on relationship-autopsy mode. It's some kind of bizarre defense mechanism, probably prompted by the fact that he spends half his time watching those goddamn movies." She paused and turned to me. "Did I tell you about the time he auditioned for one of them? Before Nebraska, I mean."

Funny how well that simple phrase compartmentalized our relationship. "Before Nebraska" and "After Nebraska." "Before Maleficium" and "After Maleficium" would have been more accurate, but I wasn't eager to refer to an era in our relationship as "BM."

"Catcher auditioned for a Lifetime movie?"

"Yep. They were filming part of a rom-com in the Loop, and he auditioned to be an extra. Didn't get the part, although that clearly didn't sour him on the channel or the 'art form,'" she said, using air quotes. "Anyway, he said you were hanging out with this Jonah when Ethan was gone. Who is he?"

"Captain of the Grey House guards. He's just a friend. He helped me deal with stuff - deal with you - when Ethan was gone. He was at the Midway that night. . . ." I trailed off, not wanting to remind her in detail that she'd nearly burned down the neighborhood. She probably hadn't been paying much attention to my sidekick at the time, anyway.

"Ah," she said, obviously embarrassed.

"Yeah. Ah." I adjusted my ponytail. Not that it had needed it; I just wasn't sure what to do with my hands. The awkwardness with Mallory hadn't completely disappeared. "Lacey will grab him if she gets the chance, Mal."

"And you think he's amenable to grabbing?"

It was a good question; I knew he loved me, but he was angry and hurt, and he was probably questioning my trustworthiness.

"If you felt betrayed, and someone pretty came along and swore that she was the only one with your best interests at heart - that she was the only one who understood exactly what you and your House needed - would you feel amenable?"

She didn't answer, and when I looked over at her, I saw sadness in her face. My stomach fell, and I realized my error. "Oh, God, Catcher didn't, you know, find someone else?"