Dark Debt (Chicagoland Vampires 11)

“It was her House,” Juliet said, not saying Celina’s name, just as we’d done with Balthasar. “Everything here, every one of them, has been touched by her. And not in a good way.”

“Yeah,” I agreed as we passed a framed line drawing of what looked like a particularly unpleasant erotic coupling. “Not in a good way.”

*   *   *

When we returned to the room, Ethan, Morgan, and Scott sat in the middle of the table. Jonah had joined Malik and Irina at the end. I gave the bottle to Ethan and took the seat beside him, across the table from Jonah. He looked at me, nodded, and I did the same.

“The Circle will come back again,” Ethan said, beginning the grim conversation. “King is still alive, as is Nadia, and the debts are outstanding. Tonight is not the climax of the Circle’s aggression toward Navarre. It is the beginning.”

Scott nodded. “We believe it’s best if the Navarre vampires go to safe houses.”

Irina’s response, at least, was quick and angry. “Navarre vampires will not be forced out of this House.”

“Irina,” Morgan warned, but she paid him no heed and lifted her chin defiantly.

“We won’t go into hiding like cowards.”

Morgan’s eyes fired dangerously. “Navarre vampires will do as they’re directed, as I deem best. In case you’ve forgotten, I stand Master of this House.”

“If it weren’t for your failure—”

He held up a hand. “I’m going to cut you off there. It’s been a difficult night, and there are guests in our midst. Because of that, I’m going to ignore your tone.”

“You should have protected this House.”

“You know how this started, and why. Celina did this. She indebted us—and severely—to the mob. Do you understand that?” He gestured at the room around him, filled with expensive furniture and décor. “This, all of this, was bought with Navarre blood. And those debts, my dear, as Malik has undoubtedly informed you by now, have come due. That’s why Nadia was injured. That’s why they’re here. Because of her mess.”

Irina looked away. “The result could have been avoided with care.”

“It couldn’t have been avoided. She has destroyed us, Irina. She rammed the ship into the iceberg, and we’re left to rearrange the chairs.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Look around you. Look at what’s happened, at what she has reduced us to. Be angry if you must, but don’t be oblivious. Don’t play coy when lives are at risk.

“And for right now, apologize to our guests. I also suggest you leave the room until you’ve regained your senses. Otherwise I can have you escorted out.”

Magic burst into the room from both directions, filling the air. This was as awkward to watch as a couple fighting at a dinner party. And just as secretly entertaining. If the situation hadn’t been so dire, and Irina’s obnoxiousness so deplorable considering the circumstances, I’d have asked for popcorn.

Irina rose. “You should never have been her Second.”

Morgan’s smile was thin but grim. “It wasn’t up to you to decide, but her. And since you’re so eager to beatify her, I’d think you’d respect her decision. Regardless, she is not here, and we are. Your apology?”

“Your guests are responsible for her death.”

That raised my hackles.

“You bring them here, flaunt them in our faces, as if they’ll help us. Do you know what that does to us? To those of us whom she made?” She gestured at me, her hand flung wildly. “It feels like a betrayal.”

“She made me, too. But that does not negate her bad acts. And that wasn’t an apology.”

Irina’s eyes silvered and her fangs descended. She put a hand on the handle of her katana. She was ready to fight. And if the look in her eyes was any indication, she was aching for it. “I will not apologize to them, or to you.”

The Masters stayed seated, but their bodies went on sudden alert. Sharper gazes, squarer shoulders, just in case action was necessary.

“You do not want to start a fight with me, Novitiate,” Morgan said. And he didn’t just use words to convince her. Glamour flowed through his words, through the room, streaming like water across a dry creek bed.

It overwhelmed me.

The sensation of fluid magic, of intrusive magic, raised a cold sweat on my arms, down my spine. I put my hands flat on the tabletop, trying to focus on the cold of the glass to distract me from the memory of Balthasar. I tried to breathe through pursed lips, slowly in and out, just as Ethan had shown me.

The magic wasn’t even directed at me, but it affected me as if I’d been targeted by a maelstrom. Was this what my life would be like from now on? No longer immune to glamour, but unable to be in the same room with it, even if it wasn’t directed at me? I’d be a magical creature that couldn’t stand magic.