“Date night?”
“I’m trying to fit in with the rest of the partygoers,” I reminded him.
“So I see. You’ve got weapons?”
“A dagger in my boot. Anything else would be too obvious.”
The emotion was clear in his eyes, but I needed to stay focused. I kept my voice neutral, my words careful. “I’ll be safe. And Noah will have my back.”
Ethan nodded. “I’ve updated Luc. The guards are all on standby. If you call, they come running, immediately. If you need anything, you call one of them. If anything happens to you—”
“I’m immortal,” I interrupted, reminding him of the biological clock he’d stopped from ticking.
“And I have no interest in taking liberties with my immortality.”
He nodded, regret in his eyes. That look made it seem he was seeking a discussion between two lovers, not between boss and employee. Maybe he did have feelings for me. Real ones, unbound by obligation or position. But even if I was interested in pursuing that lead, now was not the time. I had a task to perform.
But before I could remind him of that and send him on his way, he cupped my face in his hands.
“You will be careful.” It was an order that brooked no argument. That was convenient, since words failed me.
“You will be careful,” he repeated, “and you will stay in touch with me, Luc, or Catcher.
Darius will be here, so Malik and I may be indisposed. Get in contact with whomever you can. Take no unnecessary risks.”
“I promise I wasn’t planning on it. Not because you asked me to,” I hastily added, “but because I like being alive.”
He clearly wasn’t dissuaded, and stroked my jawline with his thumb. “You can run. You can keep running to the ends of the earth. But I won’t be far behind you.”
“Ethan—”
“No. I will never be far behind you.” He tipped up my chin so that I could do nothing else but look back into his eyes. “Do the things you need to do. Learn to be a vampire, to be a warrior, to be the soldier you are capable of being. But consider the possibility that I made a mistake I regret—and that I’ll continue to regret that mistake and try to convince you to give me another chance until the earth stops turning.”
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to my forehead, my heart melting even as my more rational side harbored suspicions.
“No one said love was easy, Sentinel.”
And then he was gone and the door was closed again, leaving me standing there, dumbfounded, staring at it.
What was I supposed to do with that?
The Chicago Water Tower sat like a wedding-cake topper in the middle of Magnificent Mile. It had survived the Great Fire, and now it served as a symbol of the city—and a background for tourist photographs.
Jonah leaned against the stone railing beside the steps into the building in trim jeans and a silvery button-up, his gaze on the phone in his hands. His hair was loose around a face that might have been carved by Michelangelo himself—if Michelangelo had sculpted a man who had looked like an Irish god. Perfect cheekbones, thin nose, square jaw, and long almond-shaped blue eyes framed by locks of his auburn hair.
Yes, Jonah was plenty handsome, even with the dour expression that marred his face when he looked up. He tucked the phone into a pocket and moved closer. I watched him look me over, taking in the leather and debating whether I’d be a help or a hindrance on this particular escapade.
“You’re early,” he said.
I reminded myself to pick my battles. “I prefer early to late. I thought we might want to talk strategy before we go in.”
He gestured down Michigan toward the river.
“Let’s walk and talk.”
And so we started down Michigan Avenue, two tall and welldressed vampires, probably looking like we were on a date instead of planning to infiltrate a vampire blood orgy. And we looked normal enough, apparently, that no one made us out as vamps. Ah, the benefits of nightfall.
“How many vamps?” I asked him.
“I don’t know. Raves are pretty intimate affairs, so if this is one, not many.”
“If you found the phone with the invite at Benson’s, are you thinking it belonged to a Grey House vamp?”
Jonah glowered. “I’m hoping, for the sake of the Grey House vamps, that it didn’t. But as you said, the bar has an open-door policy, and we generally keep its House affiliation a secret. So it could have belonged to anyone.”
I nodded. “Have you always been in Grey House?”
“I have not. I was born Rogue. Grew up in a rough part of Kansas City. Not the easiest place to come of age. I almost didn’t make it out. And then along came Max.”
“He’s the one who made you a vampire?”
“He was. He helped me escape a bad scene.
Well, to the extent inheriting vampire politics and drama is an escape.”
“I can relate.”
“I figured. No offense, but Sullivan’s as political as they come.”
I laughed aloud. “Truer words have never been spoken. He’s a good Master. Cares deeply about his House.”
“And you two—?”
I cut off the question. Most of the Cadogan vamps knew Ethan and I had shared a night together, so it didn’t come as much of a surprise that Jonah, member of an espionage group, did, too. But while I appreciated that he was giving me the opportunity to clarify, it irked me that he assumed I’d be a liability, emotionally or otherwise. Starting off with a clean slate would have been nice.
“We are not an item,” I assured him.
“Just checking. I like to get a line on any possible complications that might spill my way.”
“None from this end,” I assured him. Much to Ethan’s disappointment.
We separated as a flock of teenagers bounded down Michigan. It was two in the morning, and the stores were long since closed, but it was also a summer night and school hadn’t yet started. I suppose wandering Michigan Avenue was a relatively safe activity if you were a teenager with too much time on your hands.
“Anyway, Max was a vampire with Master-worthy power, but no House. The GP considered him unstable and wouldn’t give him an official title. They were right about the instability. My guess? Max was bipolar as a human, and becoming a vamp didn’t help.”
“Can’t be a good idea to have him running around Kansas City without oversight.”
“And that was exactly the problem. The GP didn’t think he was sane enough for a House, but that just meant an ego-driven psychopath was running around making one vamp after another.
The creation of Murphy House was a way for the GP to rein in the Rogues and one-up Max. They gave Rich the House and grandfathered us in under some ancient
“How’d you end up in Chicago?”
“I transferred to Grey when Scott got his Masterdom. Each new House gets to steal a few Novitiates from the others to help fill it out.
They’re able to initiate new vamps, as well, obviously, but the trade gives them a start.”
“Are you worried someone at the party might recognize you? I mean, you’ve been around for a while, and if
