the Second of the Four Keys - weapons - so he'd been tasked with prepping me for vampire combat. As a newbie vampire, having Catcher as a sparring partner wasn't exactly great for the confidence.
Aerobics Barbie whipped herself into a hip-hop frenzy, leading the class in a final multistep combination that ended with the lot of us staring sassily at the mirrors that lined the dance studio. Session concluded, she applauded and made some announcements about future classes that Mallory and I would have to be dragged, kicking and screaming, to attend.
"Never again, Merit," she said, walking to the corner of the room where she'd deposited her bag and water bottle before class started. I couldn't have agreed more. Although I loved to dance, hip thrusting under Barbie's bubbly instruction and ever-bouncing bosom involved too little actual dance and too much cleavage. I needed to respect my dance master. Respect wasn't exactly the emotion Barbie inspired.
We sat down on the floor to prep for our return to the real world.
"So, Ms. Vampire," Mallory asked me, "are you nervous about moving into the House?"
I glanced around, not entirely sure how much chatting I should be doing about my vampire business. The Chicagoland Vampires had announced their existence to Chicago roughly ten months ago, and as you might guess, humans weren't thrilled to learn that we existed. Riots. Panic. Congressional investigations. And then Chicago's three Houses became wrapped up in the investigation of two murders - murders supposedly perpetrated by vampires from Cadogan and Grey, the youngest Chicago House. The Masters of those Houses, Ethan Sullivan and Scott Grey, dreaded the attention.
But the Master of the third House (that was Navarre) was conniving, manipulative, and the one that actually planned the murders. She was also drop-dead gorgeous, no pun intended. She might as well have leaped from an editorial spread in Vogue. Dark hair and blue eyes (just like me), but with an arrogance that put celebrities and cult leaders to shame.
Humans were entranced, fascinated, by Celina Desaulniers.
Her beauty, her style, and her ability to psychically manipulate those around her were an irresistible combination. Humans wanted to learn more about her, to see more, to hear more.
That she'd been responsible for the deaths of two humans - murders she'd planned and confessed to - hadn't minimized their fascination. Nor had the fact that she'd been captured (BTW, by Ethan and me) and extradited to London for incarceration by the Greenwich Presidium, the council that ruled Western European and North American vampires. And in her place, the rest of us - the exonerated majority who hadn't helped her commit those heinous crimes - became that much more interesting. Celina got her wish - she got to play the bad little martyred vampire - and we got an early Christmas present: We got to step into the vacuum of her celebrity.
T-shirts, caps, and pennants for Grey and Cadogan (and for the more morbid, Navarre) were available for sale in shops around Chicago. There were House fan sites, "I?
Cadogan" bumper stickers, and news updates on the city's vampires.
Still, notorious or not, I tried not to spread too many deets about the Houses around town. As Sentinel, I was part of the House's security corps, after all. So I took a look around the gym and made sure we were alone, that prying human ears weren't slipping a listen.
"If you're debating how much you can say," Mallory said, unscrewing the top of her water bottle, "I've sent out a magical pulse so that none of our little human friends can hear this conversation."
"Really?" I turned my head to look at her so quickly my neck popped, the shock of pain squinting my eyes.
She snorted. "Right. Like he'd let me use M-A-G-I-C around people," she muttered, then took a big gulp of her water.
I ignored the shot at Catcher - we'd never have a decent conversation if I took the time to react to all of them - and answered her question about the Big Move.
"I'm a little nervous. Ethan and I, you know, tend to grate on each other's nerves."
Mallory swallowed her water, then wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. "Oh, whatever. You two are BFFs."
"Just because we've managed to play Master and Sentinel for two weeks without tearing each other's throat out doesn't mean we're BFFs."
As a matter of fact, I'd had minimum contact with Cadogan's Master - and the vampire who made me - during those last two weeks, by design.