candleholders stood on tables and bookcases, and silver bowls of old-fashioned ribbon candy sat on side tables.
It would be a Cadogan House Christmas—and it made a nice change from the swaths of black fabric that had wrapped the House while we were in mourning. The House deserved it. Grieving was exhausting, and two months of mourning took a physical and emotional toll.
A few of the House’s ninety or so live-in vampires, all dressed in traditional black, were busy in the foyer. They nodded and waved as we passed, which didn’t make me nearly as uncomfortable as it once would have. I’d become part of the House, of the family of Novitiates who lived there.
“Ladies, I’m going to leave you here,” Ethan said. “I believe I could use a bit of a cleanup myself.” He gestured toward the foyer, where Helen, the House’s new vampire liaison, waited. “Paige, Helen will get you a room key and some basic necessities. Merit, drop by later so we can talk about next steps.”
I nodded and did my duty, escorting Paige to meet Helen.
“Merit,” Helen said, “lovely to see you again. And you must be Paige.”
She probably wasn’t thrilled to see me again, since we hadn’t exactly hit it off the first time we’d met, but she was all politeness today. Helen handed Paige a laminated Cadogan House guest pass on a lanyard and a key on a Cadogan House key ring.
We were all about the branding.
“You’ll be staying in the guest suite,” Helen said, then smiled at me. “Perhaps you could show her the way?”
“Of course. Where is it?”
“Third floor, three doors down from Ethan’s. There’s a star on the door.”
I nodded. “I’ll find it.”
Helen looked at Paige. “There are some clothes upstairs and, as Ethan noted, ‘necessities’ for you until you have a chance to get your own things.”
Paige looked relieved. “I don’t even have a toothbrush. Thank you.”
“Of course.” With that, Helen smiled and marched back through the House.
We walked upstairs to the third floor and then down the quiet hallway past half the House’s bedrooms; the rest were on the second floor. Each of the ninety-ish vampires who lived in the House (of three hundred total House members) had his or her own room. They were all small and dormlike: hardwood floors, simple furniture, small bathroom. Each room was just large enough to afford the vampire a place to sleep and a little privacy at the end of the night.
Near the end of the long hallway, three doors down from Ethan’s, was the star-marked guest room, which looked from the outside like the dressing room of a television guest host.
“This must be it,” I said.
Paige unlocked the door and stepped inside. I also peeked inside to get a look. It was a nice suite—a little bigger than our dorm rooms, but a lot smaller than Ethan’s three-room apartment. The decor was neutral, like a midrange business-class hotel. This was definitely a place for guests—to keep them comfy for a little while, but not so comfy that they overstayed their welcome.
Paige put her books on the bed and glanced back at me. “I’m going to clean up. And I might rest a little bit. I’m pretty exhausted, and I have a lot of Order business in front of me.”
“Of course. When Gabriel calls, I’d like to go see Mallory. I can let you know.”
“That would be great. I’ll want to get a sense of where she is so I can tell the Order.”
I nodded. “If you need anything before then, feel free to call Helen.”
We said polite good-byes, and I closed the door behind me and nearly ran back to the stairs, where hot-water oblivion awaited. I wanted a long, steamy, environmentally irresponsible shower that wrinkled my skin and fogged the bathroom mirror.
My room was on the second floor of the House. One floor up from the main, one floor down from Ethan’s apartments. In another time, I’d appreciated having space between us.
A note was tacked to the bulletin board on the front of my door. It was from Lindsey, my best girlfriend in the House.
Girl! I hope you did lots of nasty with Our Dear Sullivan and made us all proud. Please bring him back in a good mood. And eager to give us all raises. We need shoes. Hearts, Lindsey.
Unfortunately, there was decidedly no “nasty,” and I doubted Ethan was in a better mood—not when he was returning to political spite and double the number of enemies he’d had when