I glanced back. Charlie, Darius’s assistant, stood in the hallway, arms crossed over his chest.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
He gestured toward the door. “Can we go inside?”
“Um, sure,” I said, then opened the door.
Charlie walked inside. I followed, then shut the door behind us.
He sat on the edge of my bed and linked his hands in his lap. “Darius is dedicated to the Houses, and he has no greater interest in drama here in the States than he does in the UK. The problem is,” Charlie said, looking down at the floor, “he is a strong believer in hierarchy. The Masters should control the Houses. Problems beyond the Houses are the concerns of the GP, and only the GP.”
I liked Charlie’s honesty, but I had no doubts about where his loyalties lay. “Be that as it may, the GP hasn’t actually taken any steps to control Celina or keep peace in Chicago. We are doing what we can to keep the city together in spite of what she’s doing.”
Charlie shook his head. “Has it occurred to you that you’re playing into her hands? That by acknowledging Celina and bringing her activities to light—instead of ignoring her antics—you end up giving her the very thing she wants?”
“Which is?”
“Attention. By the Houses, the GP, humans, the press. Celina wants to be seen, to be heard.
She wasn’t getting sufficient attention as a Master, so she sabotaged that relationship in order to exchange it for something different—the attention of humans. And when she learned that she wasn’t the beloved of humankind, she acted out again. Each time you seek her out, each time you fight back, you give her a reason to come back again.”
“You’re saying we enable Celina?”
He answered with nothing more than a challenging look. The question in his eyes was obvious—
Shaking my head, my arms crossed, I leaned back against the closed door. “That theory assumes that if we ignored Celina, she wouldn’t act out. That’s simply not true. Each time things settle down in Chicago—like when we get a confession from her about the park murders and send her away—she pops up again. Believe me, Charlie, she forces us to act.”
This time, he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Merit, but we have to disagree with you.
“What’s that?”
“None of this started until after you joined Cadogan House.”
My heart beat like a timpani drum in my chest.
He held up a hand. “Hear me out. For better or worse, Celina seems to have an obsession with you. You move into the House, you elicit a confession from her, and as a result she apparently decides you, and perhaps Ethan, are her new targets.”
I forced myself to bite my tongue. Ethan clearly hadn’t told him that I’d been Celina’s intended victim, that he’d brought me into the House because a Rogue she’d hired hadn’t done his job completely. I wasn’t sure why he’d made that call, but I wasn’t going to be the one to break the news to the GP. I had no objection to the GP knowing as little about me as possible.
“We’re aware of the Breckenridge situation,” Charlie continued, “of the fact that she attacked you outside the House. Would you deny that you appear to be one of her keenest targets?”
“No,” I said. It would be impossible to deny that. On the other hand, “I’m not the only target.
Cadogan House is a target. Chicago is a target.”
He was saved a response by sudden, high-pitched beeping. He lifted his wrist, revealing a square calculator watch circa 1984.
After tapping its buttons, he smiled guiltily. “I was amazed by the technology when it was revealed, and I haven’t found anything that compares since then. Simple, efficient.”
“Kudos,” I said, trying to stuff the snark as far down as possible.
Charlie stood up again and walked toward me, heading for the door now that he’d concluded his lecture. “I hope it doesn’t seem that I’m trying to irritate you or blame you for her actions. Clearly, she is a woman with free will and the ability to make decisions for herself. But consider the possibility that the actions you undertake—as Sentinel of your House, with all of its appurtenant responsibilities—bear upon her actions, as well.”
I stepped aside, giving him access to the door.
“We do truly wish you the best with your House. We want all the American Houses to succeed, to flourish.”
“I will relay that sentiment to Ethan,” I said politely. Although my silent thoughts were much less polite, as I guessed would be the case for Ethan’s, as well.
“Excellent. Good evening, Merit.”
“Good evening, Charlie.”
He walked out again, an efficient smile on his face and a hop in his step. And in his wake . . . insecurity.
Was he right? Had we prompted Celina’s antics by responding to them? Were vampires drugged and humans dead because we’d encouraged her to act out, to rebel against Cadogan House like an angsty adolescent?
It wasn’t fair to lay the responsibility for Celina’s actions at our door. We’d tried to do right by Cadogan and Chicago, and ultimately she was the one who’d solicited the murders of humans, who’d blackmailed us, and who was now probably behind selling drugs. Those decisions were her own.
Still. Charlie’s accusation gnawed at me. Even if she’d perpetrated the acts, it wasn’t unfathomable to think she’d done it, at least in part, because she was reacting to me and Ethan, trying to rile us up, trying to score in the vampiric chess game she’d created.
I hated the idea of it, hated the thought that the battles we fought on a daily basis were somehow our fault, no matter how good our intentions.
On the other hand, what else could we have done? We couldn’t exactly leave her to her own devices, creating chaos across Chicago just to fulfill her childish craving for attention. We couldn’t have ignored the blackmail attempt or Tate’s threats against us even if we wanted to. It wasn’t like Ethan and I were out and about searching for something to rail against.
Of course we wanted peace and quiet. Of course we wanted to wake in the evening and spend our time training, researching, working to ensure the success of the House—instead of playing defense against the marauders at the gate.
Whatever the drama, whatever her motivations, there was only one thing that was going to solve the Celina problem. Getting her out of Chicago, once and for all.
I needed a break from vampires. I also hadn’t checked in on Mallory in a while, and that definitely needed to be remedied. So when I woke and dressed, I texted her for an update and learned that she and Catcher were training at his gym. Translation: I’d get to watch Catcher torture someone other than me, and I’d get to see Mallory work her magic.
Easy call. I left the House and headed to the Near North Side, where Catcher’s workout space was tucked into another old warehouse.
(Converting former warehouses into playrooms for vampires and other sups was apparently the new trend in Chicago.)
I hardly needed to sneak out of the House.
Darius had pulled us off the V investigation, so there wasn’t going to be much need for me to stick around. And my conversation with Ethan last night had raised uncomfortable questions about me and my hypocrisy that I wasn’t keen to face. I knew we’d talk eventually; there was likely no avoiding it. But it didn’t have to be right now.
