Biting Cold (35 page)

“That’s why she can’t leave her tower,” Ethan said.

I nodded. “And Seth was the anchor that kept Dominic out of the
Maleficium
. That’s why it hurt. He was, quite literally, ripped away.”

“It makes a kind of perverse sense,” Luc said. “You’d been twins before. It probably wasn’t difficult to reimagine the magic that made you twins again.”

“Did you feel anything when it happened?” Paige asked. “When the
Maleficium
was completed and Dominic would have tried to rebond himself?”

“There was pain,” Seth admitted. “Weakness. But we all thought that was the result of the separation of magic. Of good and evil. That division was artificial, and all supernatural beings felt the sting.”

“Dominic undoubtedly wanted to lie low,” I said. “If he popped up too often or tried to control you outright, you’d have known what was up.”

Seth nodded. “And I would have immediately found a sorcerer to rip him out again and force him into the
Maleficium
.”

“And that would have put Dominic back at square one,” I said. “He had no incentive to make himself known.” It also explained why Dominic was so eager to let Mallory do her thing. She was his first real chance in centuries to get out.

“But Dominic is the only one who split when the book was finally triggered. Why only him?” Paige asked. “Surely others tried the same thing. Why didn’t the
Maleficium
release all of them?”

“There may have been others,” I agreed. “But Dominic is the only one who actually touched the book when it happened.”

Seth nodded. “Any other demons who didn’t bond would have been pulled into the
Maleficium
in the first place and were destroyed when it was. Or they were bonded to their twins and weren’t able to escape as Dominic was because they didn’t have contact with the
Maleficium
.”

“So what do we do?” Jeff asked.

“We fight him,” I said. “It’s the only thing we can do.”

I pulled out the wooden token Claudia had given me and handed it to Seth. “This is his sigil. We can use it to summon him to a battlefield of our choosing. When we call him, he must appear.”

“Correct,” Seth said, looking over the sigil. “But we’ll need supplies.”

“I’ll get help with that,” Paige said. “I know a bit about summoning, and the tools you use can make a big difference in the operation of the magic.”

Seth nodded. “We can certainly make him appear, but then what?”

“I will fight him.”

We all looked at Ethan.

“I owe him one,” he said. But before I could object, he held up a hand. “I know the arguments you will make, Sentinel, and while I’m sure you would have made them well, this fight is mine. There will be no discussion. There will be no debate.” His eyes narrowed. “He has brought this battle on himself, and I mean to see it through.”

“All due respect, Liege,” Luc said, “but Jonah and Merit together couldn’t take him out with two swords. A few nicks and cuts aren’t going to do it. Hell, a few slices and stabs aren’t going to do it. The man can fly, and he made Merit disappear just by touching her. I’m not objecting to your doing the deed, but we have to even up the odds.”

Ethan and I looked at each other. I had a duty to object, but he seemed to understand my objection even if I didn’t voice it to him or the rest of them. That said, it was easy to see that he needed the battle. And if that’s what he needed, far be it from me to stand in his way.

But I’d certainly stand by his side.

I looked at Ethan. “If the odds are bad, we even the odds.”

He gave me a smile that curled my toes. “And how do you propose we do that, Sentinel?”

“He’d be easier to fight as a toy poodle. Or a dire badger,” I jokingly added, then looked at Paige. “Got any spells for that?”

“Yes, we do,” she said.

I frowned. “Seriously? You can make him a toy poodle?”

“No, I meant more generally. If we can’t fight him the way he is because he’s too strong, let’s make him less strong. Let’s take away his magic. Let’s make him human. Or more human, anyway.”

Ethan’s expression lifted. “Can that be done?”

Before Paige could answer, the clock in Ethan’s office suddenly chimed, striking twelve.

It was midnight—the witching hour and the time for Darius’s meeting.

“Time is short for all of us,” Ethan said, rising from his chair. “Paige, Seth, Catcher, talk to Mallory and see if there’s anything to this idea. We’ll meet back here in two hours. And God willing, we’ll have a plan.”

We might have a plan. But would we have a House?

I
was last into the ballroom, which was already full of vampires and nervous, agitated magic. Darius stood at the platform at the front of the room, Ethan and Malik beside him. The vampires whispered and shuffled as they waited for whatever was about to begin.

I moved quietly through the crowd to the front, stopping only when I was close enough to make eye contact with Ethan, to let him know that I was there. Ready to assist if necessary…or be there to soothe him once it was over.

“We live in strange times,” Darius said, his accent seeming extra-clipped as he prepared to lecture this room of Chicago vampires.

“The public is aware of us and other of our supernatural brethren. By registration, they have demanded we warn them of our very existence. The Order is in the midst of a crisis of its own, and the city’s leadership is in chaos. There are many in the world who revile us, who would have us destroyed en masse if authority permitted.”

The magic in the room stirred nervously.

“In such times, the stability of the Houses is even more crucial. Financially, managerially, procedurally. The Houses exist to protect vampires from the whims of humans. Without them, chaos. Wandering without homes, without support, without leadership.”

I wasn’t sure about all that, as Noah and the other Rogue vampires in Chicago seemed plenty well fed and happy.

“The GP exists to support and guide the Houses. The GP has existed, in one form or another, for a very long time, and although some do not believe it, we do have experience and knowledge to offer.”

The crowd snickered appreciatively. Whatever Darius’s faults, and I’m sure they were legion, he knew how to work a crowd. On the other hand, a captive audience of vampires who feared for their survival wasn’t exactly going to boo its purported “king” off the stage.

“Franklin Cabot is not a perfect man,” Darius announced. “And his work as receiver of this House may not have been perfect. Nevertheless, his job was to review, analyze, stabilize, and report. Despite his premature evacuation from this House, he has done so.”

The vampires around me stiffened. They knew something was coming, and they weren’t convinced the news would be good. By the look on Ethan’s face—and the line of worry between his eyes—he wasn’t, either.

“Cabot perused the financial and other records gathered in this House through the nearly one hundred years of its existence. Financially, the House is in superb shape. Its investments are adequately diversified, its assets are substantially larger than its debts, and there are sufficient funds for emergency purposes in a number of international accounts. The House has sufficient
contingency planning, and its resident vampires seem well satisfied with their lot. However…”

I steeled myself for bad news.

“The official position of the GP and its Houses respecting human affairs is avoidance. Vampires keep to themselves. Human civilizations have risen and fallen over the course of history, and they will continue to do so. It is in our best interest to let them do so and, simply put, stay out of it. The actions of Cadogan House are not consistent with that position. That, of course, raises some obvious concerns about how well Cadogan House fits within the parameters of the Greenwich Presidium—if at all.”

I froze. Around me, nerves churned as vampires considered the possibility at which Darius hinted—that Cadogan House wouldn’t be a member of the GP much longer. Instead, we’d be its enemies.

“Cadogan House rejected the efforts of the GP to review and stabilize this House. If Cadogan House does not wish to support the GP’s efforts, the GP must inquire whether Cadogan House should remain within the GP.”

Darius looked out across the sea of vampires before him, and then back at Ethan.

“The Presidium called a
shofet
,” he said. “And that
shofet
has voted to excommunicate Cadogan House from membership in the GP.”

The magic went panicky, vampires whispering about the possibility that they’d be Houseless in less than a month. I heard their whispers, and while many felt the House was being betrayed by the GP, they weren’t all favorable to Ethan.

“The GP has no right to do this.”

“Ethan will fix this—he has to.”

“Is this Ethan’s fault?”

For the first time, I was glad Ethan couldn’t mentally hear what his vampires were saying about him.

“I am not convinced that excommunication is the right decision. Although I have serious doubts about decisions made by this House, I do not doubt they were made with good intentions. But those decisions were made, and they were made in full awareness of their consequences by experienced vampires.

“Therefore, tomorrow I will call the full GP for a vote on this issue. And whatever decision is made, I wish you all happy and productive futures.”

Darius looked over the crowd and gave a final nod, then stepped down from the podium and into the crowd. It split as he walked through the vampires, all turning to watch his procession to the door. He walked out of the ballroom, and for a moment we all stood there silently, wondering what was going to happen and what was going to become of us.

Could Cadogan House survive on its own? Did the protections of the GP really matter? I wasn’t sure. And from the expressions on the faces around me, I wasn’t the only one.

Needing reassurance, we turned and looked back at Ethan.

“Shut the door,” he said, gesturing to the vampires in the back of the room. It closed with a
thush
behind us.

Ethan stood on the podium, gaze still on the door, his hands on his hips. The line of worry between his eyes was gone, and there was a new determination in his eyes.

“The GP has existed for many years,” he said. “Vampires formed Houses within its control because it was in their best interest to do so, because the protections afforded by the GP—financial, political, military—were worth it.”

He looked down at us. “But the world has changed. The British
Empire no longer rules the world, and the United States are no longer colonies in need of protection. If the GP decides Cadogan House’s membership must be revoked…then perhaps it is time we ask ourselves if the GP should be our concern.”

“They can’t just kick us out!” A male vampire—dark hair, worried expression—stepped forward from the crowd, his eyes moving frantically between Ethan and Malik. “Our immortality has never been more precarious.”

“We aren’t Rogue vampires!” someone else called out. “We are better than that.”

There were murmurs of agreement in the crowd.

“We can’t just defect,” someone yelled out. “We can’t just give up.”

The murmurs grew to a cacophonous roar. However strongly these vampires felt about Ethan—and however many doubts they may have had about the GP—their fear of being Houseless was apparently stronger.

“Silence,” Ethan roared out, and the room went quiet. His gaze went green and steely—the gaze of a Master vampire, not a man standing by while Darius West set forth his destiny.

“Remember who you are, and who we are together. Do not let your fear lead you—that’s what the GP has done. We have survived for more than a century as Cadogan vampires, and whatever else happens in Chicago or the world beyond, we will remain
Cadogan vampires
.”

Ethan’s eyes softened, and he took a step forward on the platform, his body visibly relaxing as he changed from Master vampire to friend and confidant.

“There is no doubt this situation is serious,” he said. He spoke more softly now, and the room was silent to catch every word that fell from his lips. It was an effective technique.

“But consider what we have seen over the past year. We were
outed without our consent by a Master who killed three human girls that we know of. Our vampires were recruited and hunted by her and her minions, and we have become the targets of militia apparently intent on eliminating Chicago’s ‘vampire problem.’ ”

The crowd got a kick out of his air quotes. Riding the good humor, Ethan pushed his hands into his pockets and stepped down into the crowd. “Sit down,” he said. “All of you.”

Vampires looked at one another nervously before sitting down on the hardwood floor.

“Good,” Ethan said, and then did the same, sitting down on the edge of the platform to face them. It was a remarkably casual move for Ethan—maybe another bit of his postmortem transformation.

With nearly one hundred vampires at his feet, Ethan linked his hands and put his elbows on his knees. He leaned forward.