I had to work to keep the shock from my face, that being quite an announcement to make to a roomful of vampires who'd seen what I'd done.
"You will make up your own minds. She is your sibling, and you must make up your own minds, reach your own conclusions, just as you would for any other member of this House. That said, it can be difficult to make up your minds when you hardly have an opportunity to see her."
Okay, I liked that first part, but I wasn't crazy about where this was going.
"It has been brought to my attention that it would be beneficial to host a House mixer of sorts, to allow you to meet each other socially, to get to know each other outside the bonds of work or duty."
Lindsey, I thought. The traitor. I gritted my teeth and slid a glance behind me to where she stood, grinning. She gave me a finger wave. I made a mental note to punk her as soon as I had the opportunity.
"Therefore," Ethan said, drawing my gaze again, "so that Merit can better appreciate the vampires she has sworn to protect, so that Merit can come to know you all as siblings, and you her, I have decided to name her Cadogan House... Social Chair."
I closed my eyes. It was a ridiculously mild punishment, I knew. But it was also completely humiliating.
"Of course, Helen and Merit can work together to plan functions that will be enjoyable for all parties."
Now that was just cruel. And he knew it, too, if the snarky cant of his words was any indication. I opened my eyes again, found him smiling with keen self-satisfaction, and bit back the curse that formed on my lips.
"Liege," I said, bobbing my head with Grateful Condescension.
Ethan lifted a dubious brow, crossed his arms as he scanned the crowd again. "I'm the first to admit it isn't the most... satisfying punishment."
Vampires chuckled.
"And I'm not able, at this point, to reveal details that I believe would sway your opinions, lead you to the same conclusions I've reached. But there are few I would trust with the duty of serving this House as Sentinel. And she is the only one I've appointed to that task. She'll remain in that position, and she'll remain here, in Cadogan House."
He grinned again, and this time gave them that look of wicked, boyish charm that probably incited adoration among his female subjects. "And she'll do what she can to ensure that, as they say, 'There ain't no party like a Cadogan party.' "
I couldn't help the dubious snort that escaped me, but the crowd, enamored as they were of their Master, hooted their agreement. When the loudest of the cheers had quieted, he announced that they were excused, and after a polite, unified "Liege," they filed from the room.
"The Constitution bans cruel and unusual punishment," I told him when he stepped down from the podium.
"What?" he innocently asked. "Getting you out of the library? I believe it's due time, Sentinel."
"Now that I'm a real, live vampire?"
"Something like that," he absently said, frowning as he pulled a cell phone from his pocket. He flipped it open, and as he scanned whatever text was displayed there, his expression blanked.
"Let's go," was all he said. I obediently followed.
Lindsey, a straggler at the back of the vampire crowd, winked at me as I passed. "You said you wanted a mixer," she whispered. "And I so told you he wanted you."
"Oh, you'll get what's coming to you, Blondie," I warned, index finger pointed in her direction, and followed Ethan out of the room.
He didn't speak, but tunneled through the vampires on the stairs to the first floor and then to the front door. Curious, katana still in hand, I followed him out to the portico.
A limousine was parked in front of the gate.
"Who is it?" I asked, standing just behind him.
"Gabriel," he said. "Gabriel Keene."
Head of the North American Central Pack.
Jeff had once referred to him as the most alpha of the alphas. When the limousine door opened, and he stepped booted feet onto the sidewalk, I understood why.
Gabriel was tall, broad-shouldered, intensely masculine. Thick, sun-streaked blond-brown hair reached his shoulders. His confidence was obvious in the bearing of his shoulders, the swagger in his step. He wore snug jeans and biker boots and, even in the muggy spring night, a zipped-up leather driving jacket. He was handsome, almost fiercely so, amber eyes shining,