House Rules (Chicagoland Vampires 7)

"I agree," he said.

"Before you take an irrevocable step, we offer you one last chance," Darius said. "Agree to follow the appropriate dictates and we will allow you to remain within the GP on a . . . trial . . . basis."

Ethan smiled thinly and crossed his arms. "I can easily guess what those dictates are. In the course of preparing for our departure, you realized the economic significance this House provided to the GP. And you've decided that our leaving the GP doesn't have quite the favorable ring that it once had. Here's the thing - we don't need you or your organization. We can and will survive on our own."

"What you don't appreciate," Darius said, "are the benefits you received from your membership. That you weren't fully aware of them doesn't mean they didn't exist. Do you honestly think Peter Cadogan would be happy to learn what's happened to his House? That the members of his House have elected to leave the GP - the institution that protected them for so long?"

Silence descended, but magic rose.

Ethan dropped his chin, gazing back at Darius beneath a hooded brow. "Peter Cadogan believed in his vampires. They were his first priority, and they were and remain mine. I'm not sure you've ever understood that, Darius."

"I understand plenty, Mr. Sullivan. The medals, if you please."

Kelley stepped forward and handed him the box of Cadogan gold.

Darius took the box and dropped it unceremoniously into the fire. "By the power vested in me as the head of the Greenwich Presidium, I hereby break the bond between us. Your House is Decertified. Your vampires are unaffiliated, UnHoused, and lacking the rights and privileges that would otherwise be afforded to them. The papers," he added, then held out his hand. One of the other GP members, a tall and lithe woman who looked to be of Indian descent, handed him a folder. Darius held it over the flames, just low enough for bright orange tongues of fire to graze the paper.

Darius lifted his steely gaze to Ethan. "There is no going back."

"We move forward," Ethan said. "Always forward. To affirm our affiliation with you would not be a step forward."

"That's not the most positive statement on which to end your lengthy relationship with the GP."

"I come to bury Caesar," Ethan gritted out. "Not to praise him."

"Then let it be heard - this was their choice." Darius opened his fingers, and the portfolio fell into the fire and burst into flames. Along with hundreds of years of history.

For a moment, the vampires were silent. I'd expected to feel changed somehow. Lighter, or even more afraid when the deed was done. But I didn't feel any different, which was precisely the point Ethan had been trying to make. Being a member of the GP didn't make us vampires; it just made us members. We were who we were with or without our GP association.

Darius, not surprisingly, was the first to break the silence.

"It is done," he said. The change in attitude was clear in his tone. We'd left his secret society, and we were nothing now. We were outcasts, and he intended to treat us as such. No Grateful Condescension for the vampires of Cadogan House, no allowances for the age and respect of our House. Those things were irrelevant now, just as we were irrelevant to him.

"It isn't done," Ethan said. "There's something we wish to say."

"You have nothing to say to us, Rogue," said the woman.

Ethan's eyes flashed silver. And so it begins, he silently said.

So it does, I silently agreed.

"I have more than enough to say," Ethan said. "Words that have built over centuries. Words that you wouldn't hear then. Perhaps you won't hear them now, but I would be remiss not to try." He slid his hands into his pockets, the movement of a man calm and relaxed. But anyone who knew Ethan - and I'd bet Darius did - would have known his calm was only feigned.

"Peter Cadogan was a good man," Ethan said. "A good man and a good vampire. The GP, in the intervening years since its creation, has forgotten how to respect both attributes. It prizes that which is 'vampire' over that which is good or moral. You have lost your compass, and you perpetuate your own ignorance. Your own members cause strife for the Houses you are sworn to protect, and you ignore their actions and blame the Houses when they must defend themselves. You are an anachronism that has no place in this modern world.

"Our exit is not an aberration, Darius. It is a harbinger. Celina predicted war would come. If you ignore the rising tides, you do so at your own peril."

The speech was moving, Ethan's passion clear. But the only thought on my mind? That if he felt that way about the GP, maybe he wouldn't kill me after all.

"Hyperbole doesn't suit you," Darius said, little swayed by Ethan's words. "And moreover, it's irrelevant, because there are two facts you've handily ignored. First, I believe you'll find it a challenge to move forward in light of the fact that any progress you've made since this House was founded is because of the GP's largesse."

"Malik," Ethan said, and Malik handed Ethan a slip of paper. Ethan immediately extended it to Darius.

"This is a check accounting for the increase in the value of the House's assets to which we assumed you would be claiming title. I believe you'll find the settlement to be very reasonable."

Ethan smiled smugly . . . but so did Darius. He handed the check back to the woman, whose eyes had grown wide with Ethan's revelation.

"That is only the first fact, Ethan. Much, much more important is the second."

One of the GP members whistled loudly. A shock of nervous energy blew through the Cadogan crowd at the sound, all of us looking around for whatever threat the GP had called or signaled.

Ethan's safety in mind, I put a hand on the pommel of my sword and moved forward through the crowd, closer to him. I didn't know what Darius had in mind, but there seemed little doubt it would be treacherous.

We didn't have to wait long. Only a second later, there was a thunder of sound and movement as a brigade of mercenary fairies burst into the backyard, swords bared. Each of them wore military black and fearsome grins . . . and their katanas were unsheathed and pointing at us. Other than Claudia, fairies looked nearly identical, so there was no way to tell whether these were the fairies at the gate or a new crew who'd been called in for the meeting. But it hardly seemed to matter - one way or the other, fairies had breached the peace between us.

Cadogan swords were drawn, and we moved closer together for protection even as they attempted to surround us, the hypocritical bastards. So much for the progress we'd made, for the help we'd offered and the friendship I'd thought we were beginning to forge.