I glanced over at Ethan, who weaved through traffic to keep the vehicles ahead of us in sight. Peter flew north, apparently eager to see Celina, or whoever else he believed was meeting him. If it was Celina, I wondered if he was going of his own accord—because he loved her or believed in her or some indivisible bit of both—or because he’d been glamoured. Because Peter, for all his strength, couldn’t overcome Celina’s will.
“What are you going to do to him?” I asked Ethan, as we glided beside the Lake.
“Do to him?”
“When he confesses,” I said, utter confidence that he would. “What will you do to him? What will be his punishment?”
“Excommunication,” Ethan replied without hesitation. “He’ll be banished from the House, his medal stripped. The same punishment ultimately received by Amber, albeit without her participation.”
“What else?” I wondered, thinking excommunication was hardly sufficient for the betrayal.
“The
Canon
prescribes death for the betrayal of a House.” Ethan had let Amber go, despite her betrayal; I wondered if Peter would be so lucky.
As if reading my mind, he offered, “Obviously, I don’t subscribe to most of the more archaic punishments. Not that he doesn’t deserve it.”
I withheld judgment on that one.
We followed Lake Shore for miles, past the Pier and Oak Street Beach, then North Avenue Beach.
“Boss.” Luc’s voice echoed through our headsets. “He’s taking the exit. Fullerton. Near North Pond.”
Ethan’s hands tightened on the wheel. North Pond, situated in a corner of Lincoln Park, was the place we’d enjoyed our previous Celina episode, her attempt on Ethan’s life, her attempt to take control of Chicago’s other Houses. I understood Ethan’s hesitation. He’d nearly been stabbed, and I’d nearly committed vampiricide. That had been the finale in the bustle of our supernaturally busy weeks.
“The marina,” Luc said, “he’s heading to the harbor.”
“Diversey Harbor,” I added. “It’s across Cannon from North Pond.”
Ethan followed the SUV as it made a couple of right turns, but stopped before entering the harbor’s parking lot.
“Keep going,” I told Ethan. “Head him off at the other end of the lot.”
Ethan nodded. We passed one entrance, then took a second, the lights on Peter’s car the only thing moving in the lot. We
parked the Mercedes, popped out, and rebelted our katanas. This time, Ethan skipped the noisy security check.
“We’ve got him,” came Luc’s whisper. “Linds is staying in the car in case he tries to run. I’m on foot. He’s heading toward the boat launch. I’m going in, but I’ll stay under cover until your mark.”
“That’s good,” I whispered, as Ethan and I headed south again to the rendezvous point. “If we can corner him against the Lake, fewer escape routes.”
“Do it,” Ethan said.
Seconds of silence followed, seconds in which my heart thudded against my chest as Ethan and I trotted toward the launch.
“I’m in the car,” Lindsey said. “Luc’s in the trees to the south. He’s here, looking around, obviously waiting for someone. He keeps checking his watch.”
“Waiting for her?” Ethan whispered.
“Who would it surprise?” I wondered back. When we got close enough to see him—a long figure before the dark void of the Lake—I stopped and put out a hand to stop Ethan.
“I’m first,” I whispered. He glowered for a moment, but then relented with a nod. “Luc, let’s keep him in the middle.”
“Aye, aye, Sentinel.”
I blew out a breath, then adjusted my grip on the katana and released the thumb guard. Three months ago, I’d been a grad student standing before a classroom of undergraduates. And today . . .
Today I stood Sentinel for a House of three hundred and twenty vampires. An old House. An honorable House. A House that had been betrayed by one of its own.
No, I mentally corrected—by another of its own.
Peter suddenly turned, katana out and poised in front of him. Behind him, the ramp angled down into the water.
“Who’s there?” he called out.
Behind me, Ethan growled.
“Your colleagues,” I called back. We stepped through the shadow of the trees into the overhead lights that illuminated the launch.
Peter’s eyes widened, a breeze of magic floating through the air as his fear rose. “What are you doing here?”
“We’d ask you the same question, Novitiate.” Ethan stepped beside me, his katana already loosed.
Rein it in, Sullivan
, I mentally warned him. He must have heard me, as the katana dropped an inch.
“We know why you’re here, Peter,” I told him. “We know you sent the e-mail to the Breckenridges about the vampire threat, and we assume you gave the ‘anonymous’ information to the Ombud’s office. It’s not much of a stretch to assume that you’ve been feeding someone information about our social schedule.”
Peter wet his lips.
“The question, Peter, is whether you want to cooperate or not.”
“No,” Ethan said. “The question is why.” The words were softly spoken.
Peter’s gaze flicked nervously from me to Ethan. “Liege.”
“
No
,” Ethan said, taking a step forward. “You have lost the right to call me, to call anyone, Liege. Peter Spencer, you have violated the
Canon
and the covenants of Cadogan House.”
No longer just “Peter.” Now “Peter Spencer.” Peter had regained a last name. Not good.
“You can’t do this,” Peter said, a nervous laughter in his voice.
Ethan moved forward another step. I gripped the handle of my katana in my right hand.
“You have violated your responsibilities to your Master, your brethren, and your House, and you have broken your oaths as a Novitiate vampire.”
“I acted in the best interest of vampires,” Peter said, regrip ping his katana. “I acted when you wouldn’t.”
Ethan
, I warned, pulling my own sword.
“You are, hereby—” Ethan reached out his hand toward Peter’s neck. No, not his neck. His medal. Ethan reached for the symbol of Peter’s soon-to-be-former membership in Cadogan House. His link to the rest of the Cadogan vampires.
“All right, stop!” Peter said, taking a step backward and out of Ethan’s reach. “Stop.” He looked around, then back at Ethan. “You don’t get it, Sullivan. You don’t understand what we need, what she can give us. We are
vampires
!” His voice rose, carried across the empty parking lot, across the Lake, then dropped again.
“They mock us. They are mortal, and weak, but they mock us. They would take away our rights. But we can’t allow that.”
“Who mocks us?” I asked. “Humans?”
Peter looked at me, frustration in his features. “Shifters. The pretenders.”
And there was the vampire version of Nick’s animosity, I thought. Born of some historic feud, and just as archaic.
“Ethan,” Peter said, “Keene is bringing the shifters to Chicago. They are practically on their way. You can’t let Cadogan House fall. Not to shifters, not to humans. You can’t let us become some kind of amusement park vampire spectacle. On the cover of magazines?” He spat out a curse. “We are better than that. We are
immortals
. We can control the night again, but we have to act.”
How much of this paranoia
, I silently asked Ethan
, is Peter, and how much is Celina’s manipulation?
I’ve no idea,
he replied.
“The Houses need to be awakened,” Peter said. “We let shifters escape the first time. During the Clearings, we let them avoid their responsibilities as supernaturals. They are our enemies, Ethan, and we have to remember that.”
“We’re at peace,” Ethan said. “With humans, with shifters.”
“We’re in
denial
,” Peter challenged. “And it’s time for us to prepare.”
“That’s why the messages were sent? That’s why the Breckenridges were targeted? To trigger a war between vampires and shifters?”
“They were targeted because they are weak.” Peter’s eyes glowed silver. “They were targeted to remind Keene who we are. What we are capable of. To remind him that Chicago is our city. Our town, and we won’t let it go. Especially not to shifters. To
pretenders
.”
As if he’d spoken his war cry, he attacked, katana raised. I muttered a curse and, as Ethan spun away, raised my own sword in attack. I executed a half turn, spinning as I sliced the katana upward. Peter, unfortunately, was older and a more experienced fighter. He moved, then brought the katana horizontally across my knees. I jumped, and for the first time as a vampire, took air, bounding in a flip that brought me down on Peter’s other side.
Someone might have warned me I could do that
, I mentally told Ethan, then sliced my katana down. Peter met my sword with his, the force vibrating the steel and my arm.
Unfortunately, that vibration also woke the vampire, like a hand on a shoulder waking someone from sleep. I huffed out a breath and pushed her back down, unwilling to lose control of this fight. I’d already seen how bad that could go, having stopped the
bokken
only millimeters from Catcher’s head.
Peter and I clanged swords again and again and again as we sliced the katanas from side to side, me moving backward down the ramp as he pushed forward. The ribbed concrete was slick with water and algae, and I struggled to keep my footing as we moved. And worse—my head began to pound from the combined effort of fighting off his attacks, making my own advances, and trying to keep the vampire at bay.
“Celina will win,” Peter said.
And there’s my motivation, I thought. With a burst of energy that would have thrilled both Catcher and Aerobics Barbie—but which made the vampire that much more curious—I inched my way up the ramp, forcing Peter up and back with each slice and thrust of my sword. He turned to gain distance and I ran forward, katana in the air. I sliced down, but he turned on me, his own katana slicing upward.
“Celina is our future,” he spit out again, then turned from me as the inertia forced us through the spins and away from each other. I pushed the sword beneath my right arm, but he rolled away from the thrust. I dropped my left hand away from the sword and spun around, raising the katana and bringing it around as I turned to face him again. I didn’t land the strike, but Peter stumbled backward into Ethan, who caught him on the top of the head with the butt of his katana’s handle.
“Celina is old news,” Ethan said, voice flat, as Peter crumpled to the ground. As I lowered my sword, chest heaving from the exertion of the fight, Ethan crouched down and reached out his hand again.
“You are hereby excommunicated,” he said, then ripped the medal from Peter’s neck. Ethan stood again, pressed the medal to his lips, then tossed it into the Lake. Without comment, he pulled the cell phone from his pocket, punched in numbers, and raised it to his ear.
“Tell the Brecks,” he said. “The threat has been contained.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
GIVE PEACE A CHANCE
They debriefed via headset on the ride back to Cadogan House, but I stayed quiet, the pressure in my head forcing my silence. I rested my forehead against the cool glass of the passenger-side window and listened as they discussed the fight, the e-mail, events in Peter’s history that might have triggered his defection to Celina’s side. The loss of a loved one. A fight with a shifter. Celina’s innate power.
The downpour of rain started just as Ethan pulled the Mercedes into the basement. Malik met us at the basement door.
“They’re here,” he said. “In the office. Breckenridges and Masters.”
Ethan nodded, and we took the stairs to the first floor.
“You did good,” he quietly said, as we rounded the corner toward his office.
I nodded my thanks. Luc met us in the hallway, having driven back to the House with Lindsey, just as Ethan pushed forward into his office.
The room was full of vampires and shifters.
Nick, in gray trousers and a slinky black polo, stood with his
father just inside the door. He ignored me, but cast a dubious glance around the office. “I didn’t know bloodsucking paid so well.”
“Said the man who resorted to extortion to deal with his family problems,” Ethan pointed out.
Headache or not, I bit back a grin. Who knew he had it in him?
“Have a seat, gentlemen,” Ethan said, extending his hand toward the conference table. Scott, Noah, and Morgan were already there. After the Brecks made their way to the end of the room and took seats opposite the vampires, Ethan took his chair at the head of the table. Luc, Malik, and I followed, and stayed standing.
“Thank you all for agreeing to gather together,” Ethan said. “As Malik has no doubt explained to you, we have identified and nullified the supposed threat against Jamie Breckenridge.” He glanced at Papa Breck, whose features were pulled into a confused frown. “A vampire in our House fell under the influence of a supernatural with a less than stellar reputation. In so doing, he was convinced to issue a false threat against Jamie, while at the same time warning us of a threat by the Breckenridges against us.” Ethan paused, then clasped his hands together on the table, interlacing his fingers. “His intent, we understand, was to foster animosity between vampires and shifters.”
I had to give it to the Brecks. They didn’t even blink an eyelash at the fact that they’d been outed.
“Thanks to the efforts of our guards corps and our Sentinel, we were able to detain the vampire,” Ethan continued. “He has been excommunicated and is currently on his way to the U.K. for sentencing, as is our way. I want to stress that there is no indication that anyone, vampire or otherwise, Cadogan House or otherwise, intended to follow through with the threat against Jamie. Nevertheless, whether real or not, this threat has been neutralized.”
“Who?” Nick asked. “Who made the threat, and who gave the order?”
Ethan arched an imperious eyebrow at Nick, who managed, impressively, to give back an equally stubborn look. “Sullivan, you can’t think that I’m going to simply take your word on this and walk away. Not after what my family’s been through.”