"I wish - "
"Your indecision isn't making this easier."
"And you think it's easy for me?"
"Hey, kids," said a familiar voice in front of us. Lindsey approached, Lacey at her side, the traitor.
"Lovely party," Lindsey told Ethan, then looked at me. "And how are you faring this evening?"
"I'm good. And you?"
"Eh," she said with a shrug. "I'm not as popular as our dear Sentinel, of course." She put an arm around my shoulders. "We took her to Temple Bar last night, and she was a hit."
Ah, so that was the game - showing me off in front of Lacey.
Ethan looked at me, his expression chill. I guessed he wasn't impressed by my sudden popularity. "Meet me in my office in five minutes."
It took me a moment to adjust to the topic change, but I glanced between him and Lacey. "There's no need for you to leave the party. We can talk later." Before I could finish, that eyebrow was arched. "That was not a request." Without waiting for an answer, he walked away, a hand at Lacey's back to guide her along.
Lindsey frowned. "What was that about?"
"I have no clue. Why do you think he wants me to meet him in his office?"
"Well, he's either just figured out that you might win homecoming queen and he totally wanted that spot, or he wants to get down on one knee and apologize profusely for being an ass." We looked at each other. She grinned. "So, since that second part is damned unlikely, are you interested in the homecoming queen bit?"
"Will there be a tiara?"
"What's a homecoming queen without one?" Then she put her hands on my arms. "Do me one favor - whatever he says about your relationship or your training or Lacey, don't play bashful. Don't play humble. You've been busting your ass this week, and you've been making him look good. You've earned that bravado. Promise?"
I promised.
I waited for fifteen minutes - fifteen minutes during which I forced myself to scan the books and trophies on his shelves, and tried to avoid wondering what - or who - had kept him.
I was leaning back against the conference table in his office when he walked in. He didn't look up, but shut the doors behind him and moved to his desk. He shuffled papers for a moment before bracing his hands on the edges of the desktop.
"We'll need to find a new physical challenge for you in order to ensure that your training is sufficient to allow you to progress."
Okay, maybe he really did want to talk about training. "Okay."
"This is also a good time for us to keep communications open with Gabriel. If the Packs aren't leaving, that means they're here. We should think about rules of engagement in case any more of them aren't happy with that decision."
"That seems appropriate."
He finally looked at me, his eyes clouded. "Enough of the game, Merit. Enough with 'Yes, Liege' and
'No, Liege.' Quit rubber-stamping everything I say. You were more valuable when you were arguing with me."
For once, I hadn't been playing at acquiescence; I really did think it was appropriate. But his tone begged a response, and I was finally fed up with his back-and-forth.
"I was more 'valuable'? I'm not an antique. Nor am I a toy or a weapon for you to manipulate."
"I'm not playing with you, Sentinel."
I lifted my eyebrows. I was only Sentinel when he was pissed. "And I'm not playing with you, Sullivan." We glared at each other for a moment, the room thick with unspoken words - the conversations we'd been avoiding.
"Watch it."
"No," I said, and his eyes widened. Ethan Sullivan, I imagined, wasn't used to his employees disobeying him.
"The only thing you ever want from me," I told him, "is for me to be something I'm not. If I argue, you complain I'm not being obedient. If I'm polite, you complain I'm rubber-stamping what you say. I can't keep playing this game with you, this constant back-and-forth."
"You know it's not that simple."
"It is that simple, Ethan. Take me as I am or let me go." He shook his head. "I can't have you."
"Yes, you could have. You did. And then you changed your mind." I thought of Lacey, of the photograph I'd seen, of his having had a relationship with her despite his strategic considerations. Maybe that was what bothered me the most - what made me different? What did I lack? Why her, but not me?
"Was I not tempting enough?" I asked him. "Not classy enough?" I didn't expect him to answer, but he did. And that was almost worse. "There's nothing wrong with you."
He'd stood up and slipped his hands into his pockets. I met his gaze and saw the green fire in his eyes.
"You're perfect - beautiful, intelligent, intractable in a kind of . . . attractive way. Headstrong, but a good strategist. An amazing fighter."
"But that's not enough?"
"It's too much. You think I haven't thought about what it might be like to return to my rooms at the end of the night and find you there - to find you in my bed, to have your body and your laugh and your mind?
To look across a room and know that you were mine - that I'd claimed you. Me." He drummed a finger against his chest. "Me. Ethan Sullivan. Not the head of Cadogan House, not the four-hundred-year-old vampire, not the child of Balthasar or the Novitiate of Peter Cadogan. Me. Just me. Just you and me." He moistened his lips and shook his head. "I don't have that luxury, Merit. I am the Master of this House. The Master of hundreds of vampires I've sworn to protect."
"I'm one of your vampires," I reminded him.
He sighed and rubbed a hand across his forehead. "You are my greatest strength. You are my biggest weakness."
"You called Lacey here. She's not a weakness?"
He seemed startled. "Lacey?"
"You two had - have - a relationship, right?"
His expression softened. "Merit, Lacey is here for an evaluation. We've been - in my limited free time - reviewing the financial status of her House. This trip was scheduled six months ago. I didn't invite her here for a relationship."
"Everyone thought - "
He gave me a sardonic look. "You should know better than to regard the rumors that swirl around this House as fact."
I looked down, sufficiently reprimanded and silently thankful. But that didn't change the bigger issue. "I told you that you had one chance, and you decided we were better off as colleagues. I can't play the game of wondering - each and every day - where we stand. I'm your employee, your subordinate, and it's time we acted like it. So I'm asking you not to bring it up again - not to bring us up again. Not to remind me with a word or a glance how conflicted you are."