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We worked beneath the shine of floodlights that punched holes in the darkness of Hyde Park\u2014nearly one hundred vampires airing rugs, painting cabinet doors, and sanding trim.<\/p>\nWe worked beneath the shine of floodlights that punched holes in the darkness of Hyde Park\u2014nearly one hundred vampires airing rugs, painting cabinet doors, and sanding trim.<\/p>\n
A handful of severe-looking men in black\u2014extra mercenary fairies we\u2019d hired for protection\u2014stood outside the fence that formed a barrier between the blocks-wide grounds of Cadogan House and the rest of the city.<\/p>\n
In part, they were protecting us from a second attack by shape-shifters. That seemed unlikely, but so had the first onslaught, led by the youngest brother of the leader of the North American Central Pack. Unfortunately, that hadn\u2019t stopped Adam Keene.<\/p>\n
They were also protecting us from a new threat.<\/p>\n
Humans.<\/p>\n
I glanced up from the elegant curve of wooden trim I was swabbing with stain. It was nearly midnight, but the golden glow of the protesters\u2019 candles was visible through the gap in the fence. Their flames flickered in the sticky summer breeze, three or four dozen humans making known their quiet objections to the vampires in their city.<\/p>\n
Popularity was a fickle thing.<\/p>\n
Chicagoans had rioted when we\u2019d come out of the closet nearly a year ago. Fear had eventually given way to awe, complete with paparazzi and glossy magazine spreads, but the violence of the attack on the House\u2014and the fact that we\u2019d fought back and in doing so had thrown shifters out into the open\u2014had turned the tides again. Humans hadn\u2019t been thrilled to learn we\u2019d existed, and if werewolves were out there, too, what else lurked in the shadows? For the past couple of months we\u2019d seen raw, ugly prejudice from humans who didn\u2019t want us in their neighborhood and camped outside the House to make sure we were aware of it.<\/p>\n
My cell phone vibrated in my pocket; I flipped it open and answered, \u201cMerit\u2019s House of Carpentry.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mallory Carmichael, my best friend in the world and a sorceress in her own right, snorted from the other end. \u201cKind of dangerous, isn\u2019t it, being a vampire around all those would-be aspen stakes?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked over the trim on the sawhorse in front of me. \u201cI\u2019m not sure any of this is actually aspen, but I take your point.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI assume from the intro that carpentry\u2019s on your agenda again this evening?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou would be correct. Since you asked, I\u2019m applying stain to some lovely woodwork, after which I\u2019ll probably apply a little sealant\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, my God, yawn,\u201d she interrupted. \u201cPlease spare me your hardware stories. I\u2019d offer to come entertain you, but I\u2019m heading to Schaumburg. Magic is as magic does, and all that.\u201d<\/p>\n
That explained the rumbling of the car in the background on her end. \u201cActually, Mal, even if you could make it, we\u2019re a human-free abode right now.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo shit,\u201d she said. \u201cWhen did Darth Sullivan issue that dictate?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen Mayor Tate asked him to.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mallory let out a low whistle, and her voice was equally concerned. \u201cSeriously? Catcher didn\u2019t even say anything about that.\u201d<\/p>\n
Catcher was Mallory\u2019s current live-in boyfriend, the sorcerer who\u2019d replaced me when I made the move to Cadogan House a few months ago. He also worked in the office of the city\u2019s supernatural Ombudsman\u2014my grandfather\u2014and was supposed to be in the know about all things supernatural. The Ombudsman\u2019s office was a kind of paranormal help desk.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe Houses are keeping it on the down-low,\u201d I admitted. \u201cWord gets out that Tate closed the Houses, and people panic.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause they think vampires pose a real threat to humans?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cExactly. And speaking of real threats, what are you learning tonight in Schaumburg?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHar-har, my little vampire friend. You will love and fear me in due time.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI already do. Are you still doing potions?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cActually, no. We\u2019re doing some different stuff this week. How\u2019s the head honcho?\u201d<\/p>\n
The quick change of subject was a little weird. Mallory usually loved an interested audience when it came to the paranormal and her magic apprenticeship. Maybe the stuff she was learning now was actually as dull as carpentry, although that was hard to imagine.<\/p>\n
\u201cEthan Sullivan is still Ethan Sullivan,\u201d I finally concluded.<\/p>\n
She snorted in agreement. \u201cAnd I assume he always will be, being immortal and all. But some things do change. Speaking of\u2014and how\u2019s that for a segue?\u2014guess who\u2019s now got a big ol\u2019 pair of spectacles perched on the end of his perfect little nose?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJoss Whedon?\u201d Although it had taken her a little while to get used to the idea of having magic, Mal had always had a thing for the supernatural, fiction or otherwise. Buffy and Spike were particular objects of affection.<\/p>\n
\u201cGad, no. Although wouldn\u2019t that totally give me an excuse to pop into the Whedonverse and, like, magically correct his eyesight or something? Anywho, no. Catcher.\u201d<\/p>\n
I grinned. \u201cCatcher got glasses? Mr. I\u2019m-so-suave-I-shaved-my-head-even-though-I-wasn\u2019t-balding got glasses? Maybe this is going to be a good night after all.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know, right? To be fair, they actually look pretty good on him. I did offer to work a little abracadabra and hook him up with twenty-twenty, but he declined.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause?\u201d<\/p>\n
She deepened her voice into a pretty good imitation. \u201c\u2018Because that would be a selfish use of magic\u2014expending the will of the universe on my retinas.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat does sound like something he\u2019d say.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYep. So glasses it is. And I\u2019ll tell you, they are little miracle workers. We have definitely turned a corner in the bedroom. It\u2019s like he\u2019s a new person. I mean, his sexual energy level is just off the\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMallory. Enough. My ears are beginning to bleed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPrude.\u201d A piercing honk rang through the phone, followed by Mallory\u2019s voice. \u201cLearn to merge, people! Come on! Okay, I\u2019ve got Wisconsin drivers in front of me, and I have to get off the phone. I\u2019ll talk to you tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNight, Mal. Good luck with the drivers and the magic.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSmooches,\u201d she said, and the line went dead. I tucked the phone back into my pocket. Thank God for besties.<\/p>\n
# # #<\/p>\n
Ten minutes later, I had a chance to test my \u201cEthan is still Ethan\u201d theory.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t even need to glance back to know that he\u2019d stepped behind me. The rising chill along my spine was indication enough. Ethan Sullivan, Master of Cadogan House, the vampire who\u2019d added me to its ranks.<\/p>\n
After two months of wooing, Ethan and I had spent a pretty glorious night together. But \u201ctogether\u201d hadn\u2019t lasted; he\u2019d reversed course after he\u2019d decided dating me was an emotional risk he couldn\u2019t afford to take. He\u2019d regretted that decision, too, and he\u2019d spent the past two months attempting, or so he said, to make amends.<\/p>\n
Ethan was tall, blond, and almost obscenely handsome, from the long, narrow nose to the sculpted cheekbones and emerald green eyes. He was also smart and dedicated to his vampires . . . and he\u2019d broken my heart. Two months later, I could accept that he\u2019d feared our relationship would put his House at risk. It would have been a lie to say I didn\u2019t feel the attraction, but that didn\u2019t make me any less eager for a rematch, so I was warily standing my ground.<\/p>\n
\u201cSentinel,\u201d he said, using the title he\u2019d given me. A House guard, of sorts. \u201cThey\u2019re surprisingly quiet tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey are,\u201d I agreed. We\u2019d had a few days of loud chants, picket signs, and bongo drums until protesters realized we weren\u2019t aware of the noises they made during the day, and the denizens of Hyde Park would tolerate noise after nightfall for only so long.<\/p>\n
Score one for Hyde Park.<\/p>\n
\u201cMakes for a nice change. How are things out here?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re moving along,\u201d I said, wiping away an errant drip of stain. \u201cBut I\u2019ll be glad when we\u2019re done. I don\u2019t think construction is my bag.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll keep that in mind for future projects.\u201d I could hear the amusement in his voice. After taking a second to check my willpower, I looked over at him. Tonight Ethan wore jeans and a paint-smeared T-shirt, and his shoulder-length golden hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck. His dress might have been casual, but there was no mistaking the air of power and unfailing confidence that marked this prince among vampires.<\/p>\n
Hands on his hips, he surveyed his crew. Men and women worked at tables and sawhorses across the front lawn. His emerald gaze tracked from worker to worker as he gauged their progress, but his shoulders were tense, as if he was ever aware that danger lurked just outside the gate.<\/p>\n
Ethan was no less handsome in jeans and running shoes while taking stock of his vampiric kin.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow are things inside?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cMoving along, albeit slowly. Things would go faster if we were allowed to bring in human construction workers.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot bringing them in does save us the risk of human sabotage,\u201d I pointed out.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd the risk that a drywall contractor becomes a snack,\u201d he mused. But when he looked back at me again, a line of worry appeared between his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is it?\u201d I prompted.<\/p>\n
Ethan offered up his signature move\u2014a single arched eyebrow.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, obviously other than the protesters and constant threat of attack,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cTate called. He asked for a meeting with the two of us.\u201d<\/p>\n
This time, I was the one who raised my eyebrows. Seth Tate, Chicago\u2019s second-term mayor, generally avoided mingling with the city\u2019s three Master vampires.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat does he want to meet about?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThis, I assume,\u201d he said, gesturing toward the protesters.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you think he wants to meet with me because he and my father are friends, or because my grandfather works for him?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat, or because the mayor may, in fact, be smitten with you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I rolled my eyes, but couldn\u2019t stop the warm blush that rose on my cheeks. \u201cHe isn\u2019t smitten with me. He just likes being reelected.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s smitten, not that I can\u2019t understand the emotion. And he hasn\u2019t even seen you fight yet.\u201d Ethan\u2019s voice was sweet. Hopeful.<\/p>\n
Hard to ignore.<\/p>\n
For weeks he\u2019d been this attentive, this flattering.<\/p>\n
That\u2019s not to say he didn\u2019t have his moments of snark. He was still Ethan, after all, still a Master vampire with a Houseful of Novitiates who didn\u2019t always please him, and to add insult to injury, he was nearing the end of a months-long rehab of that House. Construction didn\u2019t always go quickly in Chicago, and it moved even more slowly when the subject of the construction was a three-story den of vampires. An architectural gem of a den, sure, but still a den of night-walking bloodsuckers, blah blah blah. Our human suppliers were often reticent to help, and that didn\u2019t exactly thrill Ethan.<\/p>\n
The construction notwithstanding, Ethan was doing all the right things, making all the right moves. Problem was, he\u2019d shaken my trust. I hoped to find my own happily ever after, but I wasn\u2019t yet prepared to trust that this particular Prince Charming was ready to ride off into the sunset. Two months later, the hurt\u2014and humiliation\u2014was still too real, the wound too raw.<\/p>\n
I wasn\u2019t na\u00efve enough to deny what was between me and Ethan, or the possibility that fate would bring us together again. After all, Gabriel Keene, the head of the North American Central Pack, had somehow shared with me a vision about a pair of green eyes that looked like Ethan\u2019s . . . but weren\u2019t. (I know. \u201cWhat the hell?\u201d had been my reaction, too.)<\/p>\n
I wanted to believe him. Just like every other girl in America, I\u2019d read the books and seen the movies in which the boy realizes he made a horrible decision . . . and comes back again. I wanted to believe that Ethan mourned the loss of me, that his regret was real, and that his promises were earnest. But this wasn\u2019t a game. And as Mallory had pointed out, wouldn\u2019t it have been better if he\u2019d wanted me from the beginning?<\/p>\n
In the meantime, while I weighed the new Ethan against the old Ethan, I played the dutiful Sentinel. Keeping things professional gave me the space and boundaries I needed . . . and it had the added benefit of irritating him. Immature? Sure. But who didn\u2019t take the opportunity to tweak their boss when they had the chance?<\/p>\n
Besides, most vampires were members of one House or another, and I was immortal. I couldn\u2019t exactly sidestep working with Ethan without damning myself to an eternity spent as an outcast. That meant I had to make the best of the situation.<\/p>\n
Avoiding the intimacy in his voice, I smiled politely at him. \u201cHopefully he won\u2019t need to see me fight. If I\u2019m brawling in front of the mayor, things have definitely gone south. When do we leave?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ethan was quiet long enough that I looked over at him, saw the earnestness in his expression. It plucked my heartstrings to see him look so decided about me. But whatever fate might have in store for us down the road, I wasn\u2019t taking that exit today.<\/p>\n
\u201cSentinel.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was gentle reprobation in his voice, but I was sticking to my plan. \u201cYes, Liege?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBe stubborn if you wish to, if you need to, but we know how this will end.\u201d<\/p>\n
I kept my face blank. \u201cIt will end as it always does\u2014with you being Master and my being Sentinel.\u201d<\/p>\n
The reminder of our positions must have done it. As abruptly as he\u2019d turned on the charm, Ethan turned it off again. \u201cBe downstairs in twenty minutes. Wear your suit.\u201d And then he was gone, striding purposefully up the stairs and back into Cadogan House.<\/p>\n
I swore quietly. That boy was going to be the death of me.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Read more\u00a0Hard Bitten<\/a>\u00a0or\u00a0buy now\u00a0at:\u00a0Amazon<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0Barnes & Noble<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0Books-A-Million<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0Indiebound<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0Kobo<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0iBooks<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0Audible<\/a> \n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" CHAPTER ONE We worked beneath the shine of floodlights that punched holes in the darkness of Hyde Park\u2014nearly one hundred vampires airing rugs, painting cabinet doors, and sanding trim. A handful of severe-looking men in black\u2014extra mercenary fairies we\u2019d hired for protection\u2014stood outside the fence that formed a barrier between the blocks-wide grounds of Cadogan[…]<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":797,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1007","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1007","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1007"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1007\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7541,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1007\/revisions\/7541"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/797"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1007"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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