{"id":7306,"date":"2016-12-11T22:06:00","date_gmt":"2016-12-12T04:06:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/?page_id=7306"},"modified":"2017-05-23T22:24:53","modified_gmt":"2017-05-24T03:24:53","slug":"phantom-kiss-first-chapter","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/?page_id=7306","title":{"rendered":"Phantom Kiss – First Chapter"},"content":{"rendered":"

Chapter One<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"phantom-kiss\"\u201cThere is no torture so sweet, no punishment so sublime, as the couple\u2019s wedding shower.\u201d<\/p>\n

The tortured vampire, who was tall and chiseled enough to make Apollo weep with jealousy, stood beside me at the threshold of a mansion in Oak Park, Illinois.<\/p>\n

The house belonged to my parents. In two months, the vampire would belong to me.<\/p>\n

He wore a perfectly fitted dark suit, a crisp white shirt beneath. The top button was undone to reveal the silver drop that rested in the hollow of his throat. His hair was golden and fell to his shoulders, his eyes the green of flawless emeralds.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou rule a House of vampires,\u201d I reminded Ethan. \u201cYou\u2019ve fought monsters, sorcerers, evil politicians. You can handle presents and party games for a couple of hours.\u201d<\/p>\n

The look of horror that widened his eyes was priceless. Not that I was thrilled about entering my parents\u2019 house. No matter the occasion, being here felt like being corseted into a body that wasn\u2019t quite my own. On the upside, at least I wasn\u2019t going to be tortured alone. Ethan was my partner in crime.<\/p>\n

His gaze narrowed. \u201cYou didn\u2019t mention party games.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was understood,\u201d I said. \u201cThat\u2019s the nature of a wedding shower. Just be glad it\u2019s the only one you have to attend.\u201d
\nWe\u2019d have a short engagement\u2014only four months from the first ring to the second\u2014and we were now only two months away from the ceremony. Since Ethan insisted on a dazzling wedding that would show off his bride-to-be\u2014and who was I to argue with that?\u2014the brief engagement meant a lot of planning and lead-in activities were compressed into a short time. That was one reason we\u2019d opted for a single couple\u2019s shower instead of the varied bridal variety.<\/p>\n

Ethan arched a golden eyebrow, skimmed his hot gaze over the dark, swingy dress I\u2019d paired with low black boots, the pearls at my neck, the dark hair I\u2019d left loose around my shoulders. \u201cYou\u2019ll owe me, Sentinel.\u201d He leaned forward, lips at my ear. \u201cAnd I mean to collect.\u201d<\/p>\n

Just as he\u2019d intended, my blood went hot. \u201cYou\u2019ll have plenty of time to collect after the party.\u201d I swept past him, opened the door, and grinned back. \u201cWe are immortal, after all.\u201d<\/p>\n

My parents\u2019 modernist home, a weird cube of concrete among Frank Lloyd Wright look-alikes, had been outfitted with white and silver streamers and paper lanterns that were unusually usual for a wedding shower. Maybe this wouldn\u2019t be so bad.<\/p>\n

My mother, Meredith Merit, and my sister, Charlotte Corkburger, had organized the party. I\u2019d given them a list of my friends, and they\u2019d handpicked the rest of the invitees based on some complicated calculus they hadn\u2019t fully explained to me but which had required a whiteboard, markers, and enough symbols to populate a spell book.<\/p>\n

\u201cHappy shower!\u201d My mother walked toward us, two tall champagne flutes in hand. Charlotte stood in front of a long table covered with silver dishes and tiered trays of food. We both had our father\u2019s dark hair, although hers were green to my blue. She glanced back and waved, and I did the same.<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, Mom,\u201d I said, and took the flute, noted the crimson liquid it held did not look like champagne.<\/p>\n

\u201cBlood4You cocktail!\u201d my mother said brightly.<\/p>\n

Ethan took a sip and nodded, as if pleasantly surprised by the taste. \u201cVery nice,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd the house looks lovely.\u201d He flashed the Masterly smile that made all manner of human and supernatural folk weak in the knees.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe had so much fun working with the party planner,\u201d my mother said, hand on her chest.<\/p>\n

\u201cPlanning a good event is a very satisfying process,\u201d Ethan said, then slid me a glance. \u201cIn fact, I requested one of our vampires act as a social coordinator for the House.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt wasn\u2019t a request,\u201d I murmured. \u201cIt was a punishment.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWas it?\u201d His expression was all innocence. \u201cI must remember it differently.\u201d<\/p>\n

I just shook my head.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, in any event, you\u2019ll have fun tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

That remained to be seen, but I\u2019d give it my best shot. I looked around, scanning the faces I knew,and didn\u2019t see my brother, Robert, or my father. \u201cRobert and Dad aren\u2019t here?\u201d<\/p>\n

My mother tried to hide her sudden wince, but not successfully. She traded it for a light smile that\u00a0wasn\u2019t any more convincing, and gestured offhandedly. \u201cThey\u2019re at a real estate closing in New York. You know how they are.\u201d<\/p>\n

Maybe there\u2019d been a closing. Or maybe my father was still my father, and my brother was still my brother. The former didn\u2019t know how to deal with me. The latter was still angry because he believed I\u2019d ruined the possibility of Merit Properties\u2019 future business with Sorcha and Adrien Reed. Sorcha was a sorceress whose plan to control supernaturals we\u2019d recently thwarted; Adrien was her entrepreneurial husband, dead by her own hand. Their own actions had led to their downfall\u2014magically and economically. But since I was a supernatural, Robert blamed me.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey are who they are,\u201d I said, and tried a smile that wasn\u2019t any better than hers. But I fixed it into place, because this night was about Ethan and love and celebration. It wasn\u2019t about my brother\u2019s petty and misguided tantrum.<\/p>\n

When Ethan picked that moment to put a hand at my back, to remind me that he was beside me whatever other drama came our way, I felt better. We were who we were.<\/p>\n

My mother slipped an arm into Ethan\u2019s. \u201cI have so many people to introduce you to! They\u2019re dying to meet you, if you\u2019ll excuse the pun.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s one of my favorite puns,\u201d Ethan said with a smile. \u201cI look forward to meeting more of Merit\u2019s family. They always have such interesting stories to tell.\u201d<\/p>\n

I could feel the blood drain from my face. Maybe the couple\u2019s shower hadn\u2019t been such a good idea after all. \u201cLet\u2019s stick to recent history, please.\u201d But Ethan just smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know all the recent history,\u201d he said. \u201cIt\u2019s the rest I\u2019m interested in.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll be back!\u201d my mother said lightly, then whisked him into the arms of her chattering friends.<\/p>\n

I wasn\u2019t alone for long.<\/p>\n

\u201cMerit!\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked back, found my blue-haired best friend\u2014classically pretty, pale, and petite\u2014moving through the crowd. Mallory Bell was escorted by her husband, Catcher. He was taller and buff, with pale skin and close-cropped hair that set off intense green eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cHappy wedding shower,\u201d she said, squeezing me in a hug. \u201cThe place looks great\u2014for a concrete box.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat sums it up pretty well,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

She snagged a flute of pretty pink juice from a waiter with a silver tray. \u201cThese are mango and dragon fruit. You should try one.\u201d<\/p>\n

I held up my blood cocktail, grinned at her. \u201cI\u2019ll try yours if you try mine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBeen there, done that.\u201d<\/p>\n

I tilted my head at her. \u201cYou have?\u201d<\/p>\n

She lifted a shoulder. \u201cYou had those bottles of Blood4You at the house.\u201d<\/p>\n

I\u2019d shared Mallory\u2019s Wicker Park home before moving into Cadogan House. I\u2019d left partly because of my obligations as Sentinel and partly to avoid her and Catcher\u2019s any-room-goes style of lovemaking. I\u2019d vastly exceeded my personal quota of naked sorcerer sightings.<\/p>\n

\u201cI had a sip one night.\u201d She wrinkled her nose. \u201cIt was not delightful.\u201d<\/p>\n

I was a vampire and I wouldn\u2019t even call blood delightful. But as much as Blood4You\u2019s marketing team tried to pretend otherwise, it wasn\u2019t about the taste. It was about the need, the comfort, the satisfaction. However unsavory the practice might have been to humans, blood filled a vampire\u2019s belly like nothing else did.<\/p>\n

\u201cTo each her own,\u201d Catcher said, glancing around. \u201cWhere\u2019s your fianc\u00e9?\u201d<\/p>\n

I gestured across the room to where he chatted with my grandfather, Chicago\u2019s supernatural Ombudsman and Catcher\u2019s employer.<\/p>\n

The Ombudsman looked decidedly lived-in, with a slender ring of silver hair, a plaid shirt and trousers, and comfortable shoes. I loved my grandfather for many reasons, not the least of which was because the cop-turned-supernatural-investigator looked perfectly at home in his own skin.<\/p>\n

My mother stood with them, a contrast in her sheath dress and Chanel pumps, diamonds glittering in her ears.<\/p>\n

\u201cEthan cuts a fine form in those black suits of his,\u201d Mallory said with a wink, earning a slightly narrowed stare from her husband. \u201cBut you\u2019re the only control freak for me,\u201d she said, putting a hand on his chest.<\/p>\n

To each her own in love, too.<\/p>\n

# # #<\/p>\n

We chatted with relatives I hadn\u2019t seen in years\u2014and some I was pretty sure I\u2019d never seen. There were pictures and canap\u00e9s and handshakes with cousins thrice removed. But there were no party games, thank God. My mother and Charlotte had evidently given up trying to think a game that would have been appropriate for humans and a four-centuries-old vampire.<\/p>\n

Ethan and I had made the rounds, talking with Mallory and Catcher, with Margot, the House\u2019s vampiric chef (and our wedding caterer), with Lindsey, my closest vampire friend and a House guard, and with Luc, the House\u2019s guard captain and Lindsey\u2019s beau.<\/p>\n

Malik, Ethan\u2019s second-in-command, had volunteered to stay at Cadogan and keep things running while we were gone. We had promised to bring him a slice of cake but weren\u2019t entirely sure if the \u201ccake\u201d my mother had ordered would count. It was less pastry than edible sculpture\u2014a tall and wriggling three- dimensional heart made of a dozen layers of beet-stained gelatin. My mother loved edgy, modern cuisine as much as she loved edgy, modern architecture.<\/p>\n

We\u2019ll go by Portillo\u2019s on the way home<\/em>, Ethan said as we looked it over. That should satisfy Malik.<\/em><\/p>\n

I wasn\u2019t about to argue with that. Portillo\u2019s had the best cake shakes in Chicago.<\/p>\n

We\u2019d requested no gifts and had offered suggestions for charitable donations for the guests who were
\ndetermined to give something. But we still received beautifully wrapped presents, including two fancy toasters, a set of expensive towels, and a dozen crystal champagne flutes. Very generous of the thrice- removed cousins, if unnecessary.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m certain there are several shelters in town that would be thrilled to have these<\/em>, Ethan said when I opened Toaster Number Three.<\/p>\n

Excellent plan<\/em>, I said, and I smiled at the small, wizened woman who\u2019d given it to us. She was a great-aunt on my father\u2019s side\u2014my paternal grandmother\u2019s sister\u2014and looked to be nearly immortal herself. \u201cThank you, Aunt Sarah. What a thoughtful gift,\u201d I said as my mother added the toaster to the growing pile.<\/p>\n

When the last gift was distributed and we\u2019d thanked two dozen people for their generosity, Great- Aunt Sarah came forward again.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere are lazy, no-good vampires living down the street from me,\u201d she pronounced.<\/p>\n

We stared at her.<\/p>\n

My mother, smile firmly in place, took Sarah\u2019s elbow. \u201cSarah, I\u2019m certain that\u2019s not an appropriate\u00a0thing to say at a party.\u201d<\/p>\n

Or anywhere else, I silently added. But Sarah intended to have her say.<\/p>\n

\u201cUp at all hours of the night, sleeping all day. Taking advantage of the system is what that is. Probably taking plenty of government handouts.\u201d<\/p>\n

Since Sarah lived on her late husband\u2019s earnings and hadn\u2019t worked a day in her life, I didn\u2019t think she was in much of a position to judge our work ethic.<\/p>\n

\u201cSarah,\u201d my mother said again, more firmly this time, and tried to tug the woman away. \u201cYou\u2019re being a bit rude.\u201d<\/p>\n

More than a bit, I thought, and slid my gaze to Ethan, watched him work to bite back the bitter words he undoubtedly wanted to say to this ignorant woman. He\u2019d hold his tongue out of consideration for me, for the circumstances. Fortunately, I didn\u2019t feel the same restriction.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not sure why you\u2019re here,\u201d I said when Sarah refused to move, her chin lifted in defiance. \u201cYou clearly don\u2019t respect us, yet you\u2019ve accepted my mother\u2019s invitation and her hospitality. You\u2019ve come into her house with prejudice and hatred, and you\u2019ve spilled your vitriol in her home. That\u2019s fantastically rude.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sarah\u2019s mouth opened, forming a perfect O of shock in the silence that followed my statement. She probably wasn\u2019t used to being challenged. Too bad for her, because I wasn\u2019t done.<\/p>\n

\u201cAs is common knowledge, which you\u2019re apparently choosing to ignore, vampires are allergic to sunlight. They are nocturnal, and their existence isn\u2019t limited to what you do or don\u2019t see of them. To answer the second accusation, vampires aren\u2019t entitled to government assistance because we aren\u2019t human. So it\u2019s literally impossible that your neighbors are receiving \u2018handouts.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

Splotches of color rose on Sarah\u2019s cheeks. She opened her mouth to respond, but I held up a finger. \u201cYou\u2019ve said your piece; I\u2019ll say mine. If you want to be prejudiced and hateful, you might as well own it. Don\u2019t make excuses based on incorrect information.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,\u201d my mother said a moment later, the word echoing across the quiet room, and looked at Sarah. \u201cI believe it\u2019s time for you to go.\u201d Skilled as an entertainer of guests, my mother sounded perfectly pleasant.<\/p>\n

\u201cI am here, and I have been generous, and I am appalled by this treatment. Joshua will hear about what\u2019s gone on here today.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019ll certainly hear about it from me,\u201d my mother said.<\/p>\n

Sarah shuffled through the crowd, disappearing toward the front of the house.<\/p>\n

There were undoubtedly guests who agreed with me, but they hadn\u2019t spoken up. To my mind, that was as good as condoning her behavior. While it was unlikely she\u2019d change her opinion, I\u2019d still fight the good fight.<\/p>\n

Sometimes, that was the best thing\u2014and the only thing\u2014you could do.<\/p>\n

\n

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Note: \u00a0I am an Amazon affiliate and may earn a commission if you\u00a0buy goods\u00a0at\u00a0Amazon through\u00a0one of my links.<\/em><\/h6>\n

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Chapter One \u201cThere is no torture so sweet, no punishment so sublime, as the couple\u2019s wedding shower.\u201d The tortured vampire, who was tall and chiseled enough to make Apollo weep with jealousy, stood beside me at the threshold of a mansion in Oak Park, Illinois. The house belonged to my parents. In two months, the[…]<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":7090,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"template-fullwidth.php","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-7306","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7306","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=7306"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7306\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7574,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7306\/revisions\/7574"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7090"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7306"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}