Biting Cold: A Chicagoland Vampires Novel (CHICAGOLAND VAMPIRES SERIES)

something.”
    He grunted, then hung up.
    I put my phone away and rubbed my hands over my face, then sat in my self-made darkness for a few moments. Vamps didn’t use the back stairwell often, so it was quiet and empty, a bit of solitude from the rest of the House. It wasn’t much to look at—warm beige walls and neutral carpet—but I could take a moment to myself and just be . I didn’t get a chance to do that very often.
    With the place to myself, I gave myself another little break. I let my guards down—the mental and emotional blocks I erected against all the random noise in the world. Sights. Smells. Sounds. My improved vampire senses made it all accessible to me, but the sheer volume of information became quickly overpowering.
    But here, in the dark and silence, I could risk a bit of a slip.
    Eyes closed, I blew out a slow breath and let the world envelop me. Smells from the kitchen—hot oil and acidic green vegetables. The feel of carpet fiber under my fingers, each discrete knot of yarn meticulously wound together.
    And sounds . . . coming from Ethan’s office next door.
    My eyes flashed open. The back stairway bordered Ethan’s office, and the wall separating the two was evidently fairly thin.
    I heard Ethan, his tone clipped, and Darius, his careful words and British accent easily recognizable.
    At first, I could hear only vague bits of noise, but the more I opened my mind to the sounds, the clearer the words became. And from the sound of it, they’d moved past the pleasantries and things weren’t going well.
    “I feel like I’ve been called to the principal’s office like a child,” Ethan said.
    “I’ve flown to Chicago, if you recall, but I don’t object to the analogy. My visit here was necessitated by acts of late in this House. There is the matter of the chain of succession, and the uproar that’s been generated in the city more generally.”
    “My House did not generate that uproar.”
    “It’s not your House,” Darius reminded him. “You are not Master of it.”
    “That is a matter of circumstance, as you are aware, Sire.” That was Malik. I guessed Darius wouldn’t settle for berating only one Master of Cadogan House.
    “Malik still holds this House. Ethan has not been reinvested by the GP.”
    “He acted in my stead while—”
    “While you were dead ,” Darius finished. “You were dead and gone and a new Master was heralded in your place. That is the manner of such things.” There was shifting in the room, and I imagined Darius crossing his legs. “While I appreciate your steadfast loyalty,” Darius said, “the GP does not exist to satisfy the whims of Cadogan House. The GP exists to protect the interests of all vampires in the United States and Western Europe. Our territory is vast, and our concerns are numerous. They are not limited to a small square of ground in Hyde Park. This House isn’t even our only concern in Chicago, much less the Western Hemisphere.”
    Darius paused. “Ethan, Malik, I will be frank. The GP is seriously concerned. We sent the receiver here to investigate this House, to assure ourselves that the House was stable and things were well in hand.” He meant Cabot—the GP’s receiver. “I understand his efforts were respected for a time. But ultimately those efforts were rejected and, in essence, so was our oversight.”
    “He limited the blood supply,” Malik said. “He made our guards stand in the sun just to prove a point—and to see our Sentinel removed. He was patronizing on his best night, and abusive on his worst.”
    “So you assume,” Darius said. “He was testing, as he is authorized to test, whether your vampires can withstand the sun and if they will obey the chain of command. One, Juliet, did both. Another did not.”
    He didn’t say my name; he didn’t need to. I forfeited the contest while I was still in the shade because Juliet was stuck in the sun, and she’d been too stubborn to give up her position. I wasn’t willing to watch her burn to a crisp just to satisfy a GP rule.
    “The GP should be their protector,” Malik said, “not their torturer.”
    “And as for Merit,” Ethan added, “he clearly wanted her out of the House. He set up the contest so she’d have to forfeit or risk Juliet’s life.”
    “Perhaps. But that does not negate the validity of the test. If someone else, anyone else, had been in Merit’s position, would you feel the same?”
    “Yes,” Ethan and Malik said