Her mouth fell open, and she gaped at me until closing it with a click of teeth. "I don't know where to start on all that. How about, your grandfather's been lying?"
I pulled myself up from the floor, hands on the countertop to steady myself. It took a moment for my head to stop spinning - the aftereffects, I presumed, of drinking so much blood at one time. "Drink, please?"
Mallory went back to the fridge and grabbed another soda, held it up for my approval, and when I nodded, popped the top.
After she handed it over, I took a long pull, discovering to my delight that diet grape soda was a refreshing chaser to three pints of human blood. I thanked her for the drink, then filled her in on the Ombud and his slate of employees. I didn't tell her about Catcher's recommendation that Mallory get training. I decided the safer course of action was just to put the two of them in a room together - all that beauty and stubbornness - and watch the fur fly.
"I have to train tonight," I told her. "I'm meeting Catcher at a gym on the Near North Side. You want to come along?"
She shrugged. "I could do that."
"Do we need to talk about something? I mean, are we okay?"
Mallory smiled ruefully. "We're fine. It's not your fault I'm . . . whatever I am."
"I bet Catcher has some answers for you."
"That'd be nice."
I finished my drink and tossed the can. "I need to be at the gym by eight thirty. But first I have to sleep. Dawn's coming, you know." I yawned, pointed out, "You haven't asked me about kissing Ethan."
She rolled her eyes. "Why would I need to? It's obvious you have the hots for him."
"No, I don't."
She gave me an obviously skeptical glare, in response to which I shrugged, lacking the energy to argue the point . . . and it would have required a heavy bit of lying and thickly laid self-denial anyway.
"Fine," she said. "I'll indulge you since you recently became the walking dead. Was he good?"
"Unfortunately."
"Technique? Skill? Hands?"
"High passes in all categories. Of course, after four hundred years, the boy's gonna have some skills."
"Quite a resume," she agreed. "And it wouldn't matter if he was inexperienced and inept. Just being in the same room, you two melt the drapes. All that heat, it's not surprising you came to blows again," she added. "Didn't land one, did you?"
I went silent.
"Merit?"
"He asked me to be his mistress."
She just stared at me, openmouthed.
"Yeah."
We stood quietly for a moment, until she moved to the refrigerator and grabbed a pint of ice cream from the freezer. She found a spoon, popped the ice-cream top, and handed the duo to me. "No one has ever deserved this more."
I wasn't sure that was true, but I took them both anyway and helped myself to a dose of Chunky Monkey.
Mallory leaned against the countertop, tapped a manicured finger against it. "You know, it's kind of flattering in an ass-backward way. Even if he's conflicted about it, he clearly finds you attractive."
I nodded around a spoonful of ice cream. "Yeah, but he doesn't like me. He admitted it. He's just . . . kind of . . . accidentally attracted."
"Were you tempted?"
I shrugged.
"That doesn't answer my question, Merit."
What could I have said? That even in the midst of it, some tiny bit of me, some little secret room in my heart (or more accurately, my loins), wanted to say yes? To finish out that kiss with caresses and something more, anything more, than a lonely day beneath cool, empty sheets?
"Not really."
She cocked her head at me, seemed to evaluate that. "I can't tell if you're lying or not."
"Neither can I," I admitted around another spoonful of ice cream.
She sighed and rose, patting my back before grabbing her purse and heading toward the front door. "You give that some thought while you're hibernating. I'll see you tonight. I'll go with you to train."
"Thanks, Mallory. Have a good day."
"I will. You sleep good."
Maybe unsurprisingly, I didn't.
CHAPTER SIX
IF AT FIRST YOU DON'T SUCCEED,
FALL DOWN, DOWN AGAIN.
It was raining when I woke the next evening, the fourth day of my new life, tucked beneath the ancient quilt that covered my bed. I stretched and rose and walked to the window, flipping back the black leather curtain that kept sunlight off my body while I slept. The evening was gray, the window cold against the flat of my palm. Heavy drops of spring rain patted against the glass. It was seven thirtyish, and the evening stretched before me. I had only one thing planned - training with Catcher, as arranged the night before.
I made myself stop obsessing about the kiss. After all, I should have been thrilled to death that I hadn't been weak enough to say yes to Ethan's offer. I was still Merit, still Mallory's friend and still my grandfather's granddaughter. So when I rose, I put it behind me and focused on the night ahead.
I wasn't sure of the appropriate dress code for my first night of training as Cadogan House Initiate, especially given the weather, so I opted for black yoga capris, a T-shirt, running shoes, and a fleece jacket to ward off the chill. When we met in the living room,
Mallory was out of her business suit and tucked into jeans and a T-shirt. She linked her arm in mine as we stepped onto the stoop, nodding to the guards at the door before darting to the garage.
Mallory flipped open the garage door and we walked inside. "You ready for your big vampire adventure?"
"You ready to find out who you are?" I countered.
"Honestly, I'm not yet sure if knowing is better than not."
I made a sound of agreement, unlocked the car, and slid inside. Mallory joined me after I reached over to pop the lock. The car started on the first try - not always a guarantee with a car nearly older than I was - and I backed her carefully out of the garage and onto the street.
"Can you believe we're wrapped up in this?" she asked. "Not even a month ago, no one knew vampires existed. Now we're in the middle of it, as deep as you can get. And this Catcher. He's what?"
"He said he was a fourth-grade sorcerer until he was kicked out of the Order. I don't know what that - "
"It's the governing body for sorcerers," Mallory interjected.
I slid her a quick glance. "And you'd know that because?"
"I've done some homework. I made some calls."
"I see. And a fourth-grade sorcerer? That would be what, exactly?"