wasn’t about to add Ethan Sullivan to that group.
“It’s better than the other option,” I told him.
Ethan seemed to consider that before averting his gaze to a pile of papers on his desk. He shuffled them. “And you aren’t undead. You aren’t undead, or the walking dead, and Buffy isn’t a reliable anatomical resource. You didn’t die that night. Your blood was taken and replaced. Your heart never stopped beating. You’re better now, genetically, than you were before. A predator. The top of the food chain. I’ve made you an immortal, assuming you manage to keep out of trouble. If you follow the rules, you can have a long, productive life as a Cadogan vampire. Speaking of, did Helen give you everything you need? You received a copy of the Canon ?”
I nodded.
“Have you had blood yet?”
“Bagged blood was delivered to the house, but I haven’t had any. To be honest, it didn’t look that appetizing.”
“You got plenty during the transition, so the thirst hasn’t hit you yet. Give it another day. You’ll want it badly enough when First Hunger strikes.” Ethan’s lips tipped up, and he smiled. It was a little disarming—that smile. He looked younger, happier, more human. “Did you say bagged blood?”
“That’s what was delivered. Why is that funny?”
“Because you’re a vampire of the Cadogan line. You can drink directly from humans or other vampires. Just don’t kill anyone.”
I put a hand across my stomach, as if the touch could still the greasy wave that suddenly rolled through it. “I’m not going to bite someone. I don’t want to drink at all, bagged or otherwise, people or not. You can’t just go around and”—I waved a hand in the air—“chew on people.”
Ethan clucked his tongue. “And to think—we were so close to having a normal conversation. Merit, you’re an adult. I suggest you learn to accept your circumstances, and quickly. Like it or not, your life has changed. You need to come to terms with exactly who you are.”
“I know who I am,” I assured him.
A golden eyebrow winged upward. “You know who you were . I know who you are, Merit, and who you’ll come to be.”
“And what is that?”
His face was completely, serenely confident. “Mine. My vampire. My subject.”
The possessiveness called my anger, and it rose, flowered and rushed across my body with a warmth that curled my toes. That warmth was delicious, and yet the emotion felt strange—separate, somehow. As if it wasn’t my anger, but an anger inside me. Whatever the source, it was pervasive, strong, and thrilling.
I stood up and asked him, my voice huskier, lusher, “Would you like to test that theory?”
Ethan’s gaze dropped to my lips, and he wet his own, but when he responded, seconds later, his tone was chill. Composed. The tone of Master-subduing-rebellious-peon. “You forget yourself, Initiate. You’re two days old. I’ve three hundred and ninety-four years. Do you really want to test your mettle against me?”
I wasn’t completely stupid. I knew my answer to that question should have been a resounding no. But that didn’t stop my body, which I was beginning to learn was operating on a completely different frequency from the rest of my brain, from responding with all the bravado it could muster, “Why not?”
A heavy silence descended, the only sound penetrating it the solid thud of my heart. Ethan pushed back his chair. “Come with me.”
“What did you just do?”
Mallory and I followed Ethan back through the first floor of Cadogan House.
“I don’t know,” I whispered back. “Vampire Merit’s a lot braver than People Merit.”
“Yeah, well, you better figure out a way to reconcile the genetics, ’cause Vampire Merit just landed you in some serious shit.”
We took a right, descended a flight of stairs, and followed Ethan through another hallway to a set of antique wooden doors. The room we entered was huge and bright, the center of its wooden floor
“It’s better than the other option,” I told him.
Ethan seemed to consider that before averting his gaze to a pile of papers on his desk. He shuffled them. “And you aren’t undead. You aren’t undead, or the walking dead, and Buffy isn’t a reliable anatomical resource. You didn’t die that night. Your blood was taken and replaced. Your heart never stopped beating. You’re better now, genetically, than you were before. A predator. The top of the food chain. I’ve made you an immortal, assuming you manage to keep out of trouble. If you follow the rules, you can have a long, productive life as a Cadogan vampire. Speaking of, did Helen give you everything you need? You received a copy of the Canon ?”
I nodded.
“Have you had blood yet?”
“Bagged blood was delivered to the house, but I haven’t had any. To be honest, it didn’t look that appetizing.”
“You got plenty during the transition, so the thirst hasn’t hit you yet. Give it another day. You’ll want it badly enough when First Hunger strikes.” Ethan’s lips tipped up, and he smiled. It was a little disarming—that smile. He looked younger, happier, more human. “Did you say bagged blood?”
“That’s what was delivered. Why is that funny?”
“Because you’re a vampire of the Cadogan line. You can drink directly from humans or other vampires. Just don’t kill anyone.”
I put a hand across my stomach, as if the touch could still the greasy wave that suddenly rolled through it. “I’m not going to bite someone. I don’t want to drink at all, bagged or otherwise, people or not. You can’t just go around and”—I waved a hand in the air—“chew on people.”
Ethan clucked his tongue. “And to think—we were so close to having a normal conversation. Merit, you’re an adult. I suggest you learn to accept your circumstances, and quickly. Like it or not, your life has changed. You need to come to terms with exactly who you are.”
“I know who I am,” I assured him.
A golden eyebrow winged upward. “You know who you were . I know who you are, Merit, and who you’ll come to be.”
“And what is that?”
His face was completely, serenely confident. “Mine. My vampire. My subject.”
The possessiveness called my anger, and it rose, flowered and rushed across my body with a warmth that curled my toes. That warmth was delicious, and yet the emotion felt strange—separate, somehow. As if it wasn’t my anger, but an anger inside me. Whatever the source, it was pervasive, strong, and thrilling.
I stood up and asked him, my voice huskier, lusher, “Would you like to test that theory?”
Ethan’s gaze dropped to my lips, and he wet his own, but when he responded, seconds later, his tone was chill. Composed. The tone of Master-subduing-rebellious-peon. “You forget yourself, Initiate. You’re two days old. I’ve three hundred and ninety-four years. Do you really want to test your mettle against me?”
I wasn’t completely stupid. I knew my answer to that question should have been a resounding no. But that didn’t stop my body, which I was beginning to learn was operating on a completely different frequency from the rest of my brain, from responding with all the bravado it could muster, “Why not?”
A heavy silence descended, the only sound penetrating it the solid thud of my heart. Ethan pushed back his chair. “Come with me.”
“What did you just do?”
Mallory and I followed Ethan back through the first floor of Cadogan House.
“I don’t know,” I whispered back. “Vampire Merit’s a lot braver than People Merit.”
“Yeah, well, you better figure out a way to reconcile the genetics, ’cause Vampire Merit just landed you in some serious shit.”
We took a right, descended a flight of stairs, and followed Ethan through another hallway to a set of antique wooden doors. The room we entered was huge and bright, the center of its wooden floor
Similar Books
