Dark Debt (Chicagoland Vampires 11)

The stairs, however, did not feel so good. My body felt leaden, and I nearly sighed with relief when I finally reached the third-floor landing.

The apartments were empty, so I ditched sweaty clothes and headed directly for the shower, washing off the sweat, the fear, the anxiety.

I emerged wrapped in a towel, a second wrapped turban-style around my wet hair, and found Ethan standing in front of a small table, flipping a stack of what looked like mail. “The House is locked down.”

I nodded, gestured. “Is that mail? Do vampires get mail?”

He looked back at me, grinned. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“I don’t get mail.”

“You aren’t Master of the House.”

I padded toward him, glanced at the envelopes he’d already discarded. Credit card applications, catalogues, charity updates, bills.

“Would you like a Cadogan House platinum card?”

“Can I have one?”

“No. You have a full library, all the clothes you could ever need, provided you don’t destroy them, and a cafeteria at your disposal. For what purpose, precisely, would you need a platinum card?”

I dodged the question. “Spoilsport,” I said, but spied the magazine peeking from the bottom of the stack. Its glossy cover featured three men and women in sharp suits, arms crossed in businesslike efficiency. TONIGHT’S HOUSE was written in a tidy font across the top of it.

“My God,” I said, picking it up and holding it against my toweled chest. “Is this a magazine for Masters?”

“It’s for House staff,” Ethan said with a chuckle, unfolding a letter. “Why?”

Why? Because it featured headlines such as “The Best Bang for your Blood Buck,” “Weeding Out Problematic Initiates,” and “Décor 101: Sprucing Up Your House.”

“I’m going to need to flip through this for both edutainment and infotational purposes.”

“He who reads Today’s House also pays today’s House’s bills.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“I already did,” he said, refolding the letter and putting it back in the pile. “I called Nicole.”

It took me a moment to adjust to the segue; he’d clearly been eager to get that off his chest. “And how is her royal highness?”

“Acting very royal, which doesn’t really do credit to her democratic leanings.”

I put the magazine back on the pile. “Did she know about Balthasar?”

“He visited Atlanta,” Ethan said. “I don’t have the sense he was there very long, but long enough at least to meet her, to reconnect, to convince her of his identity.”

“When?”

Ethan’s eyes fairly glowed at the question. “You don’t miss the details, Sentinel. Two months ago. Before the Testing. Before she came to Chicago.”

“And she never mentioned it. You think they’re working together on something? That that’s why he’s here?”

He put his hands on his hips, frowned. “Our conversation was brief, but I didn’t have that sense. She sounded, I suppose, starstruck. In my experience, Balthasar enjoys more of a challenge than that.”

“So the next few weeks should be really quiet around here.”

Ethan chuckled, kissed my forehead. “As before, after. Let’s worry about that tomorrow, Sentinel, and get this night behind us.”

I had no objection to that.