Home > Biting Bad (Chicagoland Vampires #8)(33)

Biting Bad (Chicagoland Vampires #8)(33)
Author: Chloe Neill

"Vampire sleepover," I agreed. "We'll provide the sleeping bags."

"Bras in the freezer and shaving cream in the palm," Jonah said. "It's going to be a fun night."

Or a long one. We'd see how it went.

I took a glance at the building, trying to determine the extent of the damage, but it was difficult to tell in the dark. If the fire had been contained to the atrium, the vamps could move back in as soon as the roof and its complicated mechanics were fixed. If the rooms also had been damaged, they'd be bunking with us a little while longer. We'd deal either way.

But one thing concerned me: Double the vampires in Cadogan House meant double the targets if the rioters struck again. We were basically piling everyone they wanted to kill in a single building.

"You all right?"

I nearly jumped at the sound of Ethan's voice, and I was relieved to see him behind me. "Yeah. Just wondering how much worse this is going to get before it gets better."

"It's always darkest before the dawn," he mused.

I wasn't looking forward to any more darkness.

-

Ethan drove Moneypenny home. I fell asleep in the car, exhausted by the night's emotional turmoil and the loss of blood. Vampires might heal quickly, but that didn't mean the wound didn't take a toll on our bodies. I'd been stressed and assaulted, and while I'd end up as whole as I'd been before it, I needed a break.

Hyde Park was quiet, the violence of the city's north side irrelevant here. The House glowed warm and golden, a beacon in the cold and unfeeling night.

We pulled into the garage and made our way to the first floor, where Margot manned a newly organized reception area. A giant silver tureen of hot chocolate sat beside one of warmed blood, and Helen, the House's den mother, was stationed behind a table already outfitted with a WELCOME, GREY HOUSE NOVITIATES! sign, welcome packets, and bags of toiletries and necessities.

"She is ridiculously fast," I remarked as we surveyed the setup.

"She is impeccably organized and efficient," Ethan agreed. "Did you know I stole her away from a former U.S. president? She was his social secretary."

"I presume you offered a signing bonus and immortality?" I asked with a smile.

"I did."

Luc emerged from the staircase, already wearing clean clothes, his face scrubbed of ash and soot. "Lindsey's at the gate with a list of Grey House vamps. Easier if she handles it, because she can ensure they're vampires without requiring them to vamp out."

"Good call," Ethan said. "Scott and the others should be here shortly. The ballroom is prepared?"

"And the library, much to the librarian's chagrin," Luc said. "We've got cots assembled and dividers up. They give a bit of privacy, at least. It will get them through sunrise."

"That's all we need to do," Ethan said. "I think I'd like to change clothes, and Merit will probably want a shower." They both looked at me, and I glanced down at the jacket I'd destroyed over the course of the evening. It looked even worse in the House than it had outside. Including the gash across the front, the leather bore patches of rust, probably scrapes from the fire escape, and flecks where sparks had nearly burned through it. Frankly, I looked like the victim of a zombie attack.

"I will definitely want a shower and change of clothes," I agreed.

Luc squeezed Ethan's shoulder. "Get cleaned up. We'll get everyone settled in. Probably also a good idea to get all the guards together to discuss protocol before sunrise."

Ethan checked his watch. "Very good idea. Let's say an hour, Ops Room?"

"You got it, boss. Hey, take care of our Sentinel this time, will you?"

"I'll do my best," Ethan said. "But I'm not sure even Merit could manage to get into trouble between here and the third floor."

Stranger things had happened.

-

We climbed the stairs, my legs heavy and achy like I'd just finished a marathon. I gripped the rail, pulling myself up one stair at a time.

Ethan did not look impressed by my efforts.

"I think the blood loss took a toll," I said.

"Yes, the laceration and your utter unconsciousness clued me in to that."

I couldn't help but laugh. "You sound like me. Maybe sarcasm can be transmitted by blood."

"God forbid," Ethan said. "You've more than enough for both of us."

"Would it be wrong to wear pajamas to a guard meeting?"

"It would be inappropriate," Ethan said. "But I think you're more than excused from leathers or a suit tonight."

"Sweatpants?"

"You're dating the Master of the House."

I took that as a "no" on the sweatpants.

I made it up the stairs, and he opened the doors to the apartments. The lights had been turned on, a tray of blood and healthy snacks on the side table. Luc must have given Margot a call about my unfortunate encounter with the chef's knife. Maybe, as House chef, she felt bad about the choice of weapon.

The snack called to me, but the shower called louder. I turned on the shower and peeled away my dingy clothes. I pulled off the jacket and placed it across the vanity. It had been a birthday gift from Mallory only days after I'd become a vampire and been appointed Sentinel of Cadogan House. It had been through a lot in the last ten months, and I wasn't keen to part with it.

"You're all right?" Ethan asked, stepping into the room.

I gestured toward the jacket and smiled sadly. "I hope Mallory got a good deal on this jacket. I'm afraid it's toast."

"This is Chicago. There are other leather jackets to be found."

"I know. But this one was meaningful. It was a gift - and it was before Nebraska."

"So much was," Ethan said. "I doubt Mallory will fault you for destroying it tonight. She'll be glad it protected you. At least somewhat."

I nodded. "In fairness, I didn't mean to destroy it. I got dragged into someone else's war."

"Isn't that always the way?" Ethan said philosophically. "I don't mean to be dismissive of your melancholy, but we're short on time. Shower, please. I'm going to give Breckenridge a call while you're underwater."

I didn't argue about either option. When I was naked, I climbed into the shower. The water was deliciously hot, but it stung the gash across my stomach. The wound was closed, but it had now begun to ache and itch as it healed.

I scrubbed blood and dirt and ash from my pale skin, then emerged from the shower and towel-dried my hair.

Ethan stepped into the doorway. "Now that's more like it."

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