Blood Games (Chicagoland Vampires 10)

It wasn’t often that Ethan needed time to compose himself. The fact that he needed it now nearly had me sitting down. He loved me, I’d no doubt. But no one liked to face down an angry vampire.

And when he did speak, his words were cold and short. “You stepped in front of me. Correction: You stepped in front of a racing car.”

I paused, choosing my response carefully. “It’s my job to protect this House, even if that means putting myself between you and danger. I stand Sentinel.”

“I am well aware, Merit, of your position in this House. I won’t have you take blows intended for me.”

“You took a stake that was meant for me,” I pointed out, and I’d grieved for months when he’d been gone. “I’m not going to stand by and let someone take a shot at you.”

He cursed gutturally in what I thought was Swedish.

“If you’re going to yell at me, do it in English, please. I’d like to understand the insult so I can frame an appropriately pithy response.”

He looked back at me, eyebrow arched, but one corner of his mouth twitched. It was a good thing he appreciated sarcasm, since it was usually my first response.

“I am Master of this House,” Ethan said. “It’s my job to protect my vampires.”

“Respectfully, Ethan, stop reminding us of your job. We know you’re Master. We don’t doubt it. We do exactly what we’re supposed to do—protect you.”

“You’re my world,” he said, putting down the glass. “You’re mine to protect.”

“And I’d say the same thing about you.”

His eyes went hot again, and he stared back at me from across the room, magic roiling off him in hot waves. “Will you stop being so goddamned stubborn?”

I kept my eyes on his, my tone even. “No. Will you?”

“I want to keep you safe.”

“And I want to keep you safe. I did keep you safe,” I pointed out. “And still no thank-you for that.”

Ethan pushed his hands through his hair and walked to the other end of the room, where he stared out the giant picture window, shoulders stiff. Before dawn, automatic shutters would come down, leaving the office in vampire-friendly darkness. But for now, they offered him a view of the House’s grounds.

He stood silently for a moment before glancing back at me. “I’m afraid you’ll be hurt. Afraid you’ll be targeted.”

“Why would they target me?”

“Because I love you. Because love, to some, is a weakness. A pressure point. Because I would give up anything for you, including the GP. And because I don’t mean to give up either.”

I went to him without hesitation, stepped into the arms he extended.

“I love you,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

“I love you, too. But love or not, my job is to protect you.”

“Then maybe I should reassign you to the library.”

I laughed. “Sullivan, we crossed that bridge a long time ago. You’ve made me—trained me—and there’s no going back.”

He humphed.

“Still waiting on that thank-you,” I cheekily said, since we’d broken the ice.

He smiled, rubbed a thumb along my jaw. “Did you know your eyes darken when you’re serious? From cloudy sky to deep, dark ocean.” His gaze went absent as he scanned them, his green eyes tracking across my gray-blues. “So much there. Dedication. Honor. Love.”

He was skilled enough to flatter, but the depth of emotion in his eyes told me he was being sincere. My blood began to hum at the passion in his eyes, from the soft kiss he pressed to my lips.

“That’ll do for thanks,” I quietly said, pulling the reins on my hormones.

“Oh, Sentinel.” He put his arms around me again, enveloping me in comfort and his crisp-cotton cologne, then rested his head atop mine. “What am I going to do with you?”

“For starters, a shower.”

“I didn’t mean that exactly.”

I leaned back, gave him my sultriest expression. “Oh,” I said. “But I believe you did.”

Chapter Three

EVERYDAY MAGIC

We shared the Master’s apartments on the House’s third floor. A sitting room, bedroom, bathroom, and gigantic closet large enough to be a room itself. It was like a permanent spa retreat: beautiful, luxurious, scented faintly like cologne and hothouse flowers.

I walked into the bathroom and wasted no time peeling off my clothes and dropping them on the floor, leaving me naked but for the Cadogan pendant around my neck.

The bathroom was colossal, with a lot of warm stone and a giant soaking tub. But it was the shower that I wanted, with ample steam and water. I set the temperature of the various sprays, waited until the water was near boiling, and stepped inside.

The sensation was delectable. Every muscle relaxed, goose bumps of pleasure racing along my skin. And when Ethan stepped behind me, naked and tall and impressively aroused, things only improved from there.

But that didn’t staunch my humor.

“Oh, François,” I breathily said. “You’ll have to hurry. My boyfriend will be back soon.”

Ethan grunted and slipped his arms around mine, pulling him tight against my body. “My desire is impatient,” he said in a French accent that was surprisingly believable. “It will not wait, and damn your boyfriend.”

I turned to face him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and caught his bottom lip gently between my teeth. “Then by all means, François, let’s get to it.”

* * *

Wrapped in a thick, white robe, I emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later decidedly more relaxed than I’d gone in.

But I s topped in the doorway, scenting the air.

“Something wrong?” Ethan asked, stepping behind me, his voice low. I felt the rise of his magic as he awaited my response.

“Hardly.” I followed my nose into the sitting room, found on a side table a tray bearing silver-domed plates, bottles of Blood4You, cups of fruit, and gold-wrapped chocolates. I lifted one of the domes, found a set of folded tortillas spilling with fragrant, spicy pork.

Suddenly starving, I glanced back at Ethan, who watched me with amusement.

“You ordered dinner.”

“I expected you’d be starving,” Ethan said. “So I asked Margot to bring this up.”

“Why do people always think I’m hungry?”

“Because you’re always hungry.”

“Well, I did run three miles today.”