Lucky Break (Chicagoland Vampires 10.5)

His expression didn’t change, so it seemed wise not to argue. I sat up and, with my eyes on him above the rim, drank.

He was right. It took the edge off, neutralized some of Balthasar’s discomforting effect on me.

When I drained the bottle, I handed it back to Ethan, and he put it aside. “Good,” he said. “Your color’s already coming back.”

“I didn’t mean to kiss him.” The words burst out in a bubble of sound, and even I could hear the strain of guilt in my voice. I hadn’t meant to kiss Balthasar, but in that moment, I’d desired nothing less. “I didn’t want to. Not really. I’d have done anything he asked. He had control over every part of me—mentally, emotionally, physically.”

Ethan frowned at me. “Do you think I’d blame you for that? For what he did to you?” He shook his head ruefully. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner. That he got as far as he did. His magic . . . There’s power in it.”

He was angry at himself, believing he’d somehow failed to protect me. Since he’d been the one who intervened, who’d stopped Balthasar from drinking, he couldn’t be further from the truth.

His arms moved around me, pulled me close. “Glamour is, and always will be, a weapon, no matter how prettily dressed.”

A frighteningly powerful weapon.

“I’m not really sure how to feel. It felt like a violation. And it felt wonderful. And that makes me feel guilty.”

He gently tilted my chin so our eyes met. “Glamour is intended to make you feel good, to make the idea of vampire feel wonderful. It wouldn’t be very useful if it didn’t. You are not to blame for your perfectly natural reaction.”

I nodded, but that didn’t relieve the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I liked it better when I was immune.”

“I wouldn’t have had you discover it like this.” He smiled a little. “Not that you had any more interest in glamour at your lively Commendation than you did tonight.”

As he’d intended, a corner of my mouth lifted. “And I didn’t like you very much then.”

“No, you did not.”

Luc appeared at the doorway, Malik beside him. He surveyed the room, looked at me. “You’re all right?”

I nodded. “I’m fine.”

Luc nodded. “Lindsey and one of the human guards are on Balthasar. They’ll keep tabs, and we’ll cover him in shifts.” He glanced at Ethan. “You believe his story?”

One arm across my shoulders, Ethan dropped his head back to stare at the coffered ceiling. “His explanation was internally consistent, and explains his absence rationally. You should still verify, confirm what we can.” He lifted his head again, glanced at broken bookshelves, the shattered mementos, appropriately metaphorical. “But he’s here now, so his explanation for his absence matters less than the reason for his presence.”

“And what do you think that is?” Luc asked.

“To best me? To lay claim to whatever throne he believes he’s entitled to?”

“So revenge and power,” Luc said. “Those are perennial vampire favorites.”

“Of his as well,” Ethan said, rubbing his temples with his free hand.

“We could call Nicole,” Malik said wryly, and Ethan barked a laugh.

“To thank her for sending him our way?”

“You think she knew?” I asked.

“I think he’s canny enough to have visited her first, confirmed he had an ally, before coming here.”

“She could have arranged to have the note left in our apartment while she was here for the Testing,” I guessed.

Ethan nodded, and then his eyes narrowed. He glanced between me, Luc, and Malik. “If she knew he was alive, and if she knew it during the Testing . . .”

“Is he the reason she abolished the GP and created the AAM?” Malik finished, crossing his arms over his chest.

Luc sat on the arm of the chair across from us. “And how much of her maneuvering was just to give Balthasar a second chance?”