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\u201cHigher, Merit. Bring up that kick. Mmm-hmm. Better.\u201d<\/p>\n\u201cHigher, Merit. Bring up that kick. Mmm-hmm. Better.\u201d<\/p>\n
I kicked again, this time higher, trying to remember to point my toes, squeeze my core, and flutter my fingers in the \u201cjazz hands\u201d our instructor ceaselessly demanded.<\/p>\n
Next to me, and considerably less enthused, my best friend and soon-to-be-ex-roommate, Mallory, growled and executed another kick. The growl was an odd accompaniment to the bob of blue hair and classically pretty face, but she was irritated enough to carry it off. \u201cRemind me why you dragged me into this?\u201d<\/p>\n
Our instructor, a busty blond with bright pink nails and impossibly sharp cheekbones, clapped her hands together. Her breasts joggled in syncopation. It was impossible to look away.<\/p>\n
\u201cFiercer ladies! We want every eye in the club on our bodies! Let\u2019s work it!\u201d<\/p>\n
Mallory glared daggers at the instructor we\u2019d named Aerobics Barbie. Mal\u2019s fists curled and she took a menacing step forward, but I wrapped an arm around her waist before she could pummel the woman we\u2019d paid to grapevine us into skinny jeans.<\/p>\n
\u201cIxnay on the ighting-fay,\u201d I warned, using a little of my two-month-old vampire strength to keep her in place despite her bobbing fists. Mallory grumbled, but finally stopped struggling.<\/p>\n
Score one for the newbie vampire, I thought.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow about a little civilized beat-down?\u201d she asked, blowing a lock of sweaty blue hair from her forehead.<\/p>\n
I shook my head, but let her go. \u201cBeating down the teacher\u2019s gonna get you more attention than you need, Mal. Remember what Catcher said.\u201d<\/p>\n
Catcher was Mallory\u2019s gruff boyfriend. And while my comment didn\u2019t merit a growl, I got a nasty, narrowed-eyed snarl. Catcher loved Mallory, and Mallory loved Catcher. But that didn\u2019t mean she liked him all the time, especially since she was dealing with a supernatural perfect storm centered over our Chicago brownstone. In the span of a week, I\u2019d been unwillingly made a vampire, and we\u2019d learned that Mallory was a still-developing sorceress. As in, magical powers and black cats and the major and minor Keys, the divisions of magic.<\/p>\n
So, yeah. My first few weeks as a vampire had been inordinately busy. Like Young and the Restless, but with slightly dead people.<\/p>\n
Mal was still getting used to the idea that she had paranormal drama of her own, and Catcher, already in trouble with the Order (the sorcerers\u2019 governing union), was keeping a pretty tight lid on her magical demonstrations. So Mallory was supernaturally frustrated.<\/p>\n
Heck, we were both supernaturally frustrated, and Mallory didn\u2019t have fangs or a pretentious Master vampire to deal with.<\/p>\n
So, given that unfortunate state of affairs, why were we letting Aerobics Barbie guilt us into using jazz hands?<\/p>\n
Simply put, this was supposed to be quality time, bonding time, for me and Mallory.<\/p>\n
Because I was moving out.<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay,\u201d Barbie continued, \u201clet\u2019s add that combination we learned last week. One, two and three and four, and five, six and seven and eight.\u201d The music reached a pounding crescendo as she pivoted and thrusted to the bass-heavy beat. We followed as best we could, Mallory having a little harder time of not stepping over her own feet. My years of ballet classes\u2014and the quickstep speed that vampirism gave me\u2014were actually serving me pretty well, the humiliation of a twenty-eight year-old vampire doing jazz hands notwithstanding.<\/p>\n
Barbie\u2019s enthusiasm aside, the fact that we were doing jazz hands in a hip hop dance class didn\u2019t say much for her credentials. But the class was still an improvement over my usual training. My workouts were usually tres intense, because only a couple of months ago, I\u2019d been named Sentinel for my House.<\/p>\n
To make a long story slightly shorter, American vampires were divided into Houses. Chicago had three, and I\u2019d been initiated into the second-oldest of those\u2014Cadogan. Much to everyone\u2019s surprise given my background (think grad school and medieval romantic literature), I\u2019d been named Sentinel. Although I was still learning the ropes, being Sentinel meant I was supposed to act as a kind of vampire guard. (Turns out, while I was a pretty geeky human, I was a pretty strong vampire.) Being Sentinel also meant training, and while American vampires had traded in the black velvet and lace for Armani and iPhones, they were pretty old school on a lot of issues\u2014feudal on a lot of issues\u2014including weapons. Put all that together, and that meant I spent was learning to wield the antique katana I\u2019d been given to defend Cadogan and its vampires.<\/p>\n
Coincidentally enough, Catcher was an expert in the Second of the Four Keys\u2014weapons\u2014so he\u2019d been tasked with prepping me for vampire combat. As a newbie vampire, having Catcher as a sparring partner wasn\u2019t exactly great for the confidence.<\/p>\n
Aerobics Barbie whipped herself into a hip-hop frenzy, leading the class in a final multi-step combination that ended with the lot of us staring sassily at the mirrors that lined the dance studio. Session concluded, she applauded and made some announcements about future classes that Mallory and I would have to be dragged, kicking and screaming, to attend.<\/p>\n
\u201cNever again, Merit,\u201d she said, walking to the corner of the room where she\u2019d deposited her bag and water bottle before class started. I couldn\u2019t have agreed more. Although I loved to dance, hip thrusting under Barbie\u2019s bubbly instruction and ever-bouncing bosom involved too little actual dance and too much cleavage. I needed to respect my dance master. Respect wasn\u2019t exactly the emotion Barbie inspired.<\/p>\n
We sat down on the floor to prep for our return to the real world.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, Ms. Vampire,\u201d she asked me, \u201care you nervous about moving in to the House?\u201d<\/p>\n
I glanced around, not entirely sure how much chatting I should be doing about my vampire business. The Chicagoland Vampires had announced their existence to Chicago roughly ten months ago, and as you might guess, humans weren\u2019t initially thrilled to learn that we existed. Riots. Panic. Congressional investigations. And then Chicago\u2019s three Houses became wrapped up in the investigation of two murders\u2014murders supposedly perpetuated by vampires from Cadogan and Grey, the youngest Chicago House. The Masters of those Houses, Ethan Sullivan and Scott Grey, dreaded the attention.<\/p>\n
But the Master of the third House (that was Navarre) was conniving, manipulative, and the one that actually planned the murders. She was also drop-dead gorgeous, no pun intended. She might as well have leaped from an editorial spread in Vogue. Dark hair and blue eyes (just like me), but with an arrogance that put celebrities and cult leaders to shame.<\/p>\n
Humans were entranced, fascinated, by Celina Desaulniers.<\/p>\n
Her beauty, her style and her ability her psychically manipulate those around her were an irresistible combination. Humans wanted to learn more about her, to see more, to hear more, from Celina.<\/p>\n
That she\u2019d been responsible for the deaths of two humans\u2014murders she\u2019d planned and confessed to\u2014hadn\u2019t minimized their fascination. Nor had the fact that she\u2019d been captured (BTW, by Ethan and me) and extradited to London for incarceration by the Greenwich Presidium, the council that ruled Western European and North American vampires. And in her place, the rest of us\u2014the exonerated majority who hadn\u2019t helped her commit those heinous crimes\u2014became that much more interesting. Celina got her wish\u2014she got to play the bad little martyred vampire\u2014and we got an early Christmas present: we got to step into the vacuum of her celebrity.<\/p>\n
T-shirts, caps and pennants for Grey and Cadogan (and for the more morbid, Navarre) were available for sale in shops around Chicago. There were House fan sites, \u201cI \u00a9 Cadogan\u201d bumper stickers, and news updates on the city\u2019s vampires.<\/p>\n
Still, notorious or not, I tried not to spread too many deets about the Houses around town. As Sentinel, I was part of the House\u2019s security corps, after all. So I took a look around the gym and made sure we were alone, that prying human ears weren\u2019t slipping a listen.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you\u2019re debating how much you can say,\u201d Mallory said, unscrewing the top off her water bottle, \u201cI\u2019ve sent out a magical pulse so that none of our little human friends can hear this conversation.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cReally?\u201d I turned my head to look at her so quickly my neck popped, the shock of pain squinting my eyes.<\/p>\n
She snorted. \u201cRight. Like he\u2019d let me use M-A-G-I-C around people,\u201d she muttered, then took a big gulp of her water.<\/p>\n
I ignored the shot at Catcher\u2014we\u2019d never have a decent conversation if I took the time to react to all of them\u2014and answered her question about the Big Move.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m a little nervous. Ethan and I, you know, tend to grate on each others\u2019 nerves.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mallory swallowed her water, then wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. \u201cOh, whatever. You two are BFFs.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJust because we\u2019ve managed to play Master and Sentinel for two weeks without our tearing each others\u2019 throats out doesn\u2019t mean we\u2019re BFFs.\u201d<\/p>\n
As a matter of fact, I\u2019d had minimum contact with Cadogan\u2019s Master\u2014and the vampire who made me\u2014during those last two weeks, by design. I kept my head down and my fangs to the grindstone as I watched and learned how things worked in the House. The truth was, I\u2019d had trouble with Ethan at first\u2014I\u2019d been made a vampire without my consent, my human life taken away because Celina planned on me being her second victim. Her minions weren\u2019t successful in killing me, but he\u2019d been successful at changing me\u2014in order to save my life.<\/p>\n
Frankly, the transition sucked. The adjustment from human grad student to vampire guard was, to say the least, awkward. As a result, I\u2019d pushed a lot of vitriol in Ethan\u2019s direction. I\u2019d eventually made the decision to accept my new life as a member of Chicago\u2019s fanged community. And although I still wasn\u2019t sure I\u2019d fully come to terms with being a vampire, I was dealing.<\/p>\n
Ethan, though, was more complicated. We shared some kind of connection, some pretty strong chemistry, and some mutual irritation toward each other. He acted like he thought I was beneath him; I generally thought he was a pretentious stick in the mud. That \u201cgenerally\u201d should clue you in to my mixed feelings\u2014Ethan was drop dead gorgeous and a grade-A kisser. While I hadn\u2019t completely reconciled my feelings for him, I didn\u2019t think I hated him anymore.<\/p>\n
Avoidance helped settle the emotions. Considerably.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d Mallory agreed, \u201cbut the fact that the room heats up by ten degrees every time you two get near each other says something.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShut up,\u201d I said, extending my legs in front of me and lowering my nose to my knees to stretch out. \u201cI admit nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t have to. I\u2019ve seen your eyes silver just being around him. There\u2019s your admission.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot necessarily,\u201d I said, pulling one foot toward me and bending into another stretch. Vampires\u2019 eyes silvered when we experienced strong emotions\u2014hunger, anger, or, in my case, proximity to the blond cupcake that was Ethan Sullivan. \u201cBut I\u2019ll admit that he\u2019s kind of offensively delicious.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLike salt and vinegar potato chips.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cExactly,\u201d I said, then sat up again. \u201cHere I am, an uptight vampire who owes my allegiance to a liege lord I can\u2019t stand. And as it turns out, you\u2019re some kind of latent sorceress who can make things happen just by wishing them. We\u2019re the free will outliers\u2014I have none, and you have too much.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked at me, then blinked, and put her hand over her heart. \u201cYou, and I\u2019m saying this with love, Mer, are really a geek.\u201d She rose and pulled the strap of her bag across one shoulder. I followed suit, and we walked to the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know,\u201d she said, \u201cyou and Ethan should get one of those necklaces, where half the heart says \u2018best\u2019 and the other half says \u2018friend\u2019? You could wear them as a sign of your eternal devotion to each other.\u201d<\/p>\n
I threw my sweaty towel at her. She made a yakking sound beneath it, then threw it off, her features screwed into an expression of abject, girly horror. \u201cYou\u2019re so immature.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBlue hair. That\u2019s all I\u2019m saying.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBite me, dead girl.\u201d<\/p>\n
I showed fang and winked at her. \u201cDon\u2019t tempt me, witch.\u201d<\/p>\n
# # #<\/p>\n
An hour later, I\u2019d showered and was back in Cadogan House uniform\u2014a fitted black suit jacket, black tank, and black slim-fit pants\u2014and was in my soon-to-be-former Wicker Park bedroom, stuffing clothes into a duffel bag. A glass of blood from one of the medical-grade plastic bags in our kitchen sat on the nightstand beside my bed\u2014my post-workout snack. Mallory stood in the doorway behind me, blue hair framing her face, the rest of her body covered by boxers and an oversized t-shirt, probably Catcher\u2019s, that read \u201cOne Key at a Time.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t have to do this,\u201d she said. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to leave.\u201d<\/p>\n
I shook my head. \u201cI do have to do this. I need to do it to be Sentinel. And you two need room.\u201d To be precise, Catcher and Mallory needed rooms. Lots of them. Frequently, with lots of noise, and usually naked, although that wasn\u2019t a requirement. They hadn\u2019t known each other long and were smitten within days of meeting. But what they lacked in time they made up for with unmitigated, bare-assed enthusiasm. Like rabbits. Ridiculously energetic, completely unselfconscious, supernatural rabbits.<\/p>\n
Mallory grabbed a second empty bag from the chair next to my bedroom door, dropped it onto the bed and grabbed three pair of cherished shoes\u2014Mihara Pumas (sneakers that I adored, much to Ethan\u2019s chagrin), red ballet-style flats, and a pair of black Mary Janes she\u2019d given me\u2014from my closet. She raised them for my approval and, at my nod, stuffed them in. Two more pair followed before she settled on the bed next to the bag and crossed her legs, one foot swinging impatiently.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t believe you\u2019re leaving me here with him. What am I going to do without you?\u201d<\/p>\n
I gave her a flat stare.<\/p>\n
She rolled her eyes. \u201cYou only caught us the one time.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI only caught you in the kitchen the one time, Mallory. I eat in there. I drink in there. I could have lived a content, happy eternity without ever catching a glimpse of Catcher\u2019s bare ass on the kitchen floor.\u201d I faked a dramatic shiver. Faked, because the boy was gorgeous\u2014a broad-shouldered, perfectly-muscled, shaved-headed, green-eyed, tattooed, bad boy magician who\u2019d swept my roommate off her feet (and onto her back, as it turned out).<\/p>\n
\u201cNot that it isn\u2019t a fine ass,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
I folded a pair of pants and put them into my bag. \u201cIt\u2019s a great ass, and I\u2019m very happy for you. I just didn\u2019t need to see it naked again. Ever. For real.\u201d<\/p>\n
She chuckled. \u201cFor realsies, even?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor realsies, even.\u201d My stomach twinged with hunger. I glanced at Mallory, then lifted brows toward the glass of blood on my nightstand. She rolled her eyes, then waved her hands at it.<\/p>\n
\u201cDrink, drink,\u201d she said. \u201cPretend I\u2019m some Buffy fan with a wicked attraction to the paranormal.\u201d<\/p>\n
I managed to both lift the glass and give her a sardonic look. \u201cThat\u2019s exactly what you are.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t say you had to pretend very hard,\u201d she pointed out.<\/p>\n
I smiled, then sipped from my glass of slightly-microwaved blood, which I\u2019d seasoned up with Tabasco and tomato juice. I mean, it was still blood, with the weird iron tang and slightly plastic aftertaste, but the extras perked it up. I licked an errant drop from my upper lip, then returned the glass to the nightstand.<\/p>\n
Empty.<\/p>\n
Huh. I must have been hungrier than I thought. I blamed Aerobics Barbie. In order to make sure that I had future snacks (thinking a stash of actual food would increase the odds that my fangs and Ethan\u2019s neck stayed unacquainted), I stuffed a dozen granola bars into my bag.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd speaking of Catcher,\u201d I began, since I\u2019d cut the edge off my hunger, \u201cwhere is Mr. Romance this evening?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWork,\u201d she said. \u201cYour Grandfather is quite the taskmaster.\u201d<\/p>\n
Did I mention that Catcher worked for my Grandfather? During that one big week when all the supernatural drama went down, I also discovered that my Grandfather, Chuck Merit, the man who\u2019d practically raised me, wasn\u2019t retired from his service with the Chicago Police Department as we\u2019d been led to believe. Instead, four years ago, he\u2019d been asked to serve as an Ombudsman, a liaison, between the city administration\u2014led by darkly handsome Mayor Seth Tate\u2014and the city\u2019s supernatural population. Sups of every kind\u2014vampires, sorcerers, shapeshifters, water nymphs, fairies and demons\u2014all depended on my grandfather for help. Well, him and his trio of assistants, including one Catcher Bell. I\u2019d visited my Grandfather\u2019s South Side office shortly after becoming a vamp; I\u2019d met Catcher, then Mallory met Catcher, and the rest was naked history.<\/p>\n
Mallory was quiet for a moment, and when I looked up, I caught her brushing a tear from her cheek. \u201cYou know I\u2019ll miss you, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease. You\u2019ll miss the fact that I can afford to pay rent now. You were getting used to spending Ethan\u2019s money.\u201d The Cadogan stipend was one of the upshots of having been made a vampire.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe blood money, such as it was, was a perk. It was nice not to be the only one slaving away for the man.\u201d Given her glassy office overlooking Michigan Avenue, she was exaggerating by a large degree. While I\u2019d been in grad school reading medieval texts, Mallory had been working as an ad executive. We\u2019d only recently discovered that her job had been her first success as an adolescent sorceress: she\u2019d actually willed herself into it, which wasn\u2019t the salve to her ego that a hire based on her creativity and skills might have been. She was taking a break from the job now, using up weeks of saved vacation time to figure out how she was going to deal with her newfound magic.<\/p>\n
I added some journals and pens to the duffel. \u201cThink about it this way\u2014no more bags of blood in the refrigerator, and you\u2019ll have a muscley, sexy guy to cuddle with at night. Much better deal for you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s still a narcissistic ass.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho you\u2019re crazy about,\u201d I pointed out while scanning my bookshelf. I grabbed a couple of reference books, a worn, leatherbound book of fairy tales I\u2019d had since childhood, and the most important, recent addition to my collection, the Canon of the North American Houses, Desk Reference. It had been given to me by the Helen, the Cadogan Liaison burdened with the task of escorting me home after my change, and was required reading for newbie vampires. I\u2019d read a lot of the four solid inches of text, and skimmed a good chunk of the rest. The bookmark was stuck somewhere in Chapter Eight: Going All Night. (The chapter titles had apparently been drafted by a seventeen year-old boy.)<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd he\u2019s your narcissistic ass,\u201d I reminded her.<\/p>\n
\u201cYay, me!\u201d she dryly replied, spinning a finger in the air like a party favor.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou two will be fine. I\u2019m sure you can manage to keep each other entertained,\u201d I said, plucking a bobble-headed Ryne Sandberg figurine from the shelf and placing it carefully into my bag. Although my new sunlight allergy kept me from enjoying sunny days at Wrigley Field, even vampirism wouldn\u2019t diminish my love for the Cubs. I scanned my room, thinking about all the things\u2014Cubs related or otherwise\u2014I\u2019d be leaving behind. I wasn\u2019t going to take everything with me to Cadogan, partly out of concern that I\u2019d strangle Ethan and be banished from the House, and partly because leaving some of my stuff here meant that I still had a home base, a place to crash if living amongst vampires\u2014living near Ethan\u2014became too much to bear. Besides, it\u2019s not like her new roommate was going to need the space; Catcher had already piled boy stuff in Mal\u2019s bedroom.<\/p>\n
I zipped up the bags and, hands on my hips, looked over at Mallory. \u201cI think I\u2019m ready.\u201d<\/p>\n
She offered me a supportive smile, and I managed to keep the tears that brimmed at my lashes from spilling over. Silently, she stood up and wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back\u2014my best friend, my sister.<\/p>\n
\u201cI love you, you know,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI love you, too.\u201d<\/p>\n
She released me, and we both swiped at tears. \u201cYou\u2019ll call me, right? Let me know you\u2019re okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course I will. And I\u2019m only moving across town. It\u2019s not like I\u2019m leaving for Miami.\u201d I hefted one of the bags onto my shoulder. \u201cYou know, I always figured if I moved out it would be because I got a kick ass teaching job in some small town where everyone is super smart and quirky.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEureka?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cOr Stars Hollow.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mallory made a sound of agreement and picked up the second bag. \u201cI assumed you\u2019d leave after you got knocked up by a twenty-one year-old classics major and the two of you ran away to Bora Bora to raise your baby in the islands.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stopped halfway to the door and glanced back at her. \u201cThat\u2019s pretty specific, Mal.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou studied a lot,\u201d she said, edging past me into the hallway. \u201cI had the time.\u201d<\/p>\n
I heard her trot down the stairs, but paused in the doorway of the bedroom that had been mine since I\u2019d returned to Chicago three years ago. I took a last look around at the old furniture, the faded comforter, the cabbage rose wallpaper, and flipped off the light.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Need more Merit? Buy FRIDAY NIGHT BITES now at:\u00a0Amazon<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0Barnes & Noble<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0Indiebound<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0Books-A-Million<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0iBooks<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0Kobo<\/a> CHAPTER ONE \u201cHigher, Merit. Bring up that kick. Mmm-hmm. Better.\u201d I kicked again, this time higher, trying to remember to point my toes, squeeze my core, and flutter my fingers in the \u201cjazz hands\u201d our instructor ceaselessly demanded. Next to me, and considerably less enthused, my best friend and soon-to-be-ex-roommate, Mallory, growled and executed another[…]<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":791,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-992","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/992","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=992"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/992\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7531,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/992\/revisions\/7531"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/791"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=992"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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