Some Girls Bite (26 page)

“And Ethan’s the gazelle?”

“Oh, yeah.” She inclined her head toward the hoard—now atwitter over some new shade of M.A.C. lipstick—and shook her head. “Not that they have a chance. He doesn’t touch the new kids. But I don’t think I’ll tell them that.” Her smile widened, and I decided not to think too closely about the fact that I was a new kid, and he’d certainly touched me.

“I think I’ll let them stew,” she decided. “It gives the older kids something to enjoy later on.”

“The victory of defeat?”

“Exactly.” She stuck out a hand. “Lindsey. And you’re Merit.”

I nodded cautiously and accepted her hand, wondering what other information she’d gleaned about me or, since it seemed to be popular vampire gossip, my paternity.

“Nothing to fear from me,” she assured, without my having raised the issue.

When my eyes widened, she offered, “I’m empathic. You got really tense, and I had this sense that it was about something deep—familial maybe. But I could give a shit who your parents are. ’Sides, my dad was the pork king of Dubuque. So I know high living,
chica
.”

I laughed aloud, drawing the attention of the women at the mirror, who all turned to look at me. And to appraise me. I got a series of up-and-down looks and a couple of carefully arched brows before they turned back to the mirror and set about perfecting their hair and makeup. I felt like an outsider—familiar enough with Ethan and the House to have lost that “new kid” glow, but definitely not yet one of the “older kids,” whom I watched move around the newcomers with confident efficiency, offering assistance, spraying hair, calming nerves.

Lindsey suddenly clapped her hands together. “Ladies, we’re ready. If you’ll follow me, please?” She went for the door. My stomach in knots, I swallowed thickly and fell in line behind the other girls.

We walked back down the hallway, but this time passed the stairs. We moved, instead, toward a group of men who stood in a tense line outside a set of expansive double doors. There were six of them, all in trendy, well-cut suits, and they turned as we approached, smiling appreciatively. They were the rest of the new kids, the six male vampires who, in a matter of minutes, would become full-fledged members of Cadogan House.

We joined the line behind the guys, while the vampires who’d accompanied us formed a line beside us. I was the last vampire in line; Lindsey took the spot beside me.

We stood quietly for a little while, the twelve of us nervously adjusting clothing and smoothing hair, shuffling our feet as we waited for the doors to open, waited to swear our loyalty and allegiance to the man who’d hold the responsibility of ensuring our health, our well-being, our safety. I felt a momentary twang of sympathy for the responsibility he’d taken on, but I fought the feeling. I had enough to worry about.

With a soft
whoosh
, the doors were pulled open, revealing a ballroom that was swathed in light and thrumming with the beat of bass-heavy ambient music.

My stomach churned, and I put a hand on my abdomen to still the twitching.

“You’ll be fine,” Lindsey whispered. “I’ll escort you in. And since you’re last, you just have to do what the others do. Follow their lead.”

I nodded, keeping my eyes on the short, dark hair of the woman in front of me. The line began to move, and we slowly proceeded into the space, in step with the vampires beside us.

Gigantic framed mirrors hung from both sides of the ballroom, swaths of billowy white fabric draped above them. The floor was gleaming oak, the walls a pale shade of gold. Chandeliers holding hundreds of candles gleamed, reflecting a golden glow throughout the space.

The vampires, all in black, were an odd foil against the decor. They stood in two large, tidy columns like a squadron at attention, a narrow aisle between them. We walked between the columns, Lindsey and I bringing up the rear.

At the front of the room, on a raised platform, stood Ethan, flanked by Malik and Amber, Luc standing behind. Ethan looked piratical. He was dressed in black, this time a snug long-sleeved T-shirt that showed off every plane and curve of his torso, and black flat-front slacks. His feet were tucked into squarish black shoes, his shoulder-length blond hair tucked neatly behind his ears. His legs were spread, like he was bracing his body against the sway of the ocean, arms folded across his chest as he watched us move closer, every bit the captain surveying his crew. He also looked as confident as I’d ever seen him—his shoulders square, his jaw set, his emerald eyes glowing with lambent power.

His gaze followed the line of vamps, skipping over each one, and I watched his brow furrowing before he found me at the back of the line. Our gazes locked again, the act no less powerful than it had been when we’d met for the first time a week ago. And then, with a motion so slight I’d wonder later if I’d imagined it, he inclined his head.

I nodded back.

My gaze still on Ethan, I nearly stumbled into the woman in front of me when we stopped moving, the first of our line even with the columns of vamps beside us.

The music stopped and the room stilled. Ethan unfolded his arms and took a step forward.

“Brothers. Sisters. Vampires of Cadogan House.”

The room burst into raucous applause, the vampires around us whistling and screaming until Ethan quieted them with a slight motion of his hand.

“Tonight we initiate twelve new Cadogan vampires. Twelve vampires who will become your brothers, your sisters, your room-mates, your friends.” He paused. “Your allies.” There was nodding in the crowd.

“Tonight, twelve vampires will swear their allegiance to Cadogan House, to me, and to you. They will join us, work for us, laugh with us, love with us, and, if necessary, fight with us.”

Ethan paused, then took a step forward. “My friends, my vassals, do you consent?”

They answered with action. To a one, the vampires at our sides swiveled to face us. Then, nearly simultaneously, their expressions solemn, they sank to the floor, kneeling before us. But for the group at the podium, we were the only men and women still on our feet, the rest genuflecting around us. They offered us fellowship; they offered Ethan consent, faith.

I got goose bumps all over again.

It was humbling, astounding, jolting to watch the display, to see a hundred vampires prostrate before me, to know that I was part of this, one of them. The nervousness disappeared, supplanted by a weighty kind of knowledge, a bone-deep understanding that I had become something different, something historic.

Something
more
.

I let my gaze flow across the crowd of vampires, still on their knees before us, and became aware of something else—the slow hum of power, like a subtle electric current, that moved across them, like water over a tumble of rocks.

Magic
.

I let my hand lift, let my fingers feel the subtle shape of it, the curves and bows in the air. It wasn’t unlike putting a hand out a car window and feeling the wind rush by; it had that same weird sense of solidity. And, like Catcher said, it wasn’t that they were doing magic, performing it. It was more like they were extruding it, leaking it into the air around us. Whatever Ethan had said, being a vampire wasn’t just about genetics.

Realizing that I was standing in the midst of nearly a hundred vampires, my hand floating in the air like an idiot, I snatched it back, rubbing the inside of my palm with a thumb to wipe away the residual tingles. I surveyed the vamps around me, realizing that no one else seemed to have noticed the magic. The Initiates stared a little blankly at the Housed vampires, mouths parted in surprise, their eyes flicking nervously across the men and women at our feet.

I risked a glance and looked up at Ethan, still on the platform. His gaze was on me, his expression unreadable, but his attention fixed. I wondered if he’d seen me raise my hand, feel out the current, and I wondered if I’d done something wrong by touching it.

After a moment, he turned back to his troops. “Rise, friends, as we welcome your comrades, as they swear their oaths to protect this House.”

The vampires rose in concert, as if they’d choreographed and practiced the moves. They moved with such synchronicity that it was akin to watching a flock of birds in flight—and a little disconcerting in a group of men and women.

They swiveled again to face Ethan, and the tension in the room seemed to heighten incrementally, the new vamps in front of me shifting nervously. Something was about to happen.

Lindsey leaned toward me. “When he calls your name—when he calls you forward—go to him. It might scare you, but it’s perfectly natural. He calls all of us.”

Without warning, the Initiate vampire at the front of the line—a young man of maybe twenty-five—stumbled forward. The vampire at his side took his elbow to catch him, then escorted him the dozen-odd steps to the podium, where he kneeled before Ethan. The escort then stepped to the side. The room was silent, all eyes on the Master and Initiate before him. Ethan leaned down, said something to the boy, who nodded, then responded.

The exchange continued for a few moments, before Malik stepped forward and handed something to Ethan. It glinted in the light—a medal on a thin gold chain—and the vampire lowered his head. Ethan reached his hands around the man’s neck and fastened the medal. When it was clasped, he whispered again, and the man rose.

“Joseph, Cadogan Initiate, I anoint you a full member of Cadogan House, with all the rights and duties afforded a Novitiate vampire.”

The crowd applauded raucously as Joseph and Ethan embraced. Amber then stepped from the podium and led Joseph to one side, where he stood facing us, like a beauty pageant finalist.

The same sequence followed with the other ten vampires before me—kneeling, speaking, embracing, applause. Warner, Adrian, Michael, Thomas, and Connor followed Joseph into the ranks of Cadogan Novitiates, as did five women—Penny, Jennifer, Dakota, Melanie and Christine. Before I knew it, I stood at the front of the line, Lindsey at my side, Ethan before me, the host of Novitiates, new and old, watching as I waited to be called. Adrenaline began to surge.

The ballroom fell silent again. I forced myself to raise my gaze, to meet Ethan’s. There was a moment of eye contact before he dropped his head.

That was when I heard it—the soft echo of his voice in my head, like a whisper from the end of a tunnel. And then I was hurtling through the tunnel, toward the sound, and I squeezed closed my eyes and tried to staunch the sudden burst of nausea. His voice called clear, my name. My full name—first, middle, last. And from his lips, it didn’t sound so bad.

But I wasn’t that girl anymore. Hadn’t been, maybe ever, certainly not since I was old enough to claim my own identity. To be Merit, rather than the ghost of someone else.

Eyes closed, contemplating my identity, I hadn’t heard him approach. I didn’t know he stood before me until I felt his fingers in a viselike grip around my arms.

My lids lifted. Ethan stared down at me, nostrils flaring, silver tempering the edges of his irises. I swallowed and looked around, realized that the ballroom was graveyard silent, and that all eyes were on me. I looked to Lindsey, whose expression bore some mix of horror, shock, and awe, and I had no idea what I’d done.

I blinked and returned my gaze to Ethan. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and he leaned incrementally forward.

“What the hell kind of game are you playing?”

I opened my mouth, but was too flustered to form words. Desperate to make him understand that I hadn’t,
this time
, purposefully failed him, I shook my head wildly.

“I didn’t,”
I managed to push out, willing him to understand.

Ethan blinked, his fingers loosening slightly, and his eyes tracked across my face, searched my gaze. “You didn’t come forward when I called you.”

“You didn’t call me.”

“You heard me say your name?”

I nodded.

“I pulled you forward, just as I pulled everyone else. You didn’t come.” Then his lips parted, his eyes suddenly widening, his expression suddenly appreciative. “You weren’t fighting me?”

I shook my head. “Of course not. Not now. Not like this. I may not always be . . . pliant, but I have a pretty strong instinct for survival. I’m not going to insult you in front of your people.” I offered him a little smile. “Well, not again, anyway.”

“Ethan?” Malik stepped forward. “Should we release the others?”

Ethan shook his head. He uncrimped his fingers and released my arms, then turned on his heel. “Follow me.”

I didn’t hesitate, but fell into step behind him, let him take the couple of steps to the platform, and stopped in front of him. I didn’t kneel, unsure of what he wanted me to do. Malik took the spot next to Ethan, and when his people were assembled again, he looked to the crowd.

“Friends.”

The single word silenced the vampires, silenced the speculation that I knew had begun to work its way through the House: Why didn’t she move forward? Was it some kind of rebellion? (Again?) Was he going to punish her this time? (Rightfully?)

“In these times, peace is tremulous. Allies are key. Power is key.” His gaze slipped down to me. “I called her. It had no effect.”

The murmuring began in earnest.

“She has resisted the call,” Ethan continued, raising his voice over the vampires. “She has resisted the glamour. She has strength, my friends, and will be an asset to our House. For she is ours. She is a Cadogan vampire.”

For the third time, the goose bumps rose.

He looked back at me and nodded slightly, and I sank to my knees before him. Then he took a step forward and gazed down at me. His eyes fairly glowed, bright green glass beneath the fringe of long, blond lashes.

This was it. The time to pledge myself, or not, in service to these vampires.

To Cadogan.