Ethan sighed. “We all knew she had ulterior motives—that she didn’t propose the AAM because she’s magnanimous.”
“Did she say anything about it last week?” Malik asked.
“No,” Ethan said. The country’s Masters had met in Atlanta, Nicole’s home, for the AAM’s first meeting and to discuss the organization’s building blocks: its location, its procedures, its decision-making apparatus, its finances, the possibility of holding a formal ceremony to celebrate the organization’s creation. I’d missed that particular trip—Luc had accompanied Ethan as his body man. From the riveting discussions of parliamentary procedure I’d had with Ethan afterward, I hadn’t missed much.
“The meeting was just as you’d expect a meeting of twelve egotistical and strategy-motivated vampires to be. If she’s trying to maneuver us into some position to support Balthasar, she didn’t show her hand.”
“Next planning meeting is next week,” Luc said. “Maybe this is step one.”
“I don’t know if I buy that theory,” I said, looking between them. “To go through Testing, the election, the disbanding of the GP, setting up the AAM—all the work you’ve done in the last few weeks to get the organization up and running—there are easier ways to get power to Balthasar.” I shrugged. “Hell, she could have just supported him as a candidate for Darius’s position.”
“That’s a point,” Luc agreed.
“Maybe you should call her,” Malik said. “Acknowledge he is here. Find out what you can. Get it out in the open.”
“That’s what she said,” I murmured, but loud enough for Luc to hear and grin approvingly.
“Nice, Sentinel.”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “You two have clearly been spending too much time together.”
“Two-a-days,” we said simultaneously.
“You train more, you bond more,” Luc said. “It’s part of my trademarked regimen: ‘Luc90X.’”
“That’s not a thing,” Malik said, “and it’s not trademarked. It’s probably a trademark violation.”
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?”