House Rules - Chloe Neill Page 0,22

vampire if Ethan hadn’t changed me, and I wouldn’t survive without regular doses of blood. Even though the process had become a fairly routine endeavor, I still needed it. So I dropped by the House cafeteria and plumbed for snacks. A bag of blood from our retail supplier, Blood4You, was a necessity, as was a mini chocolate candy bar that I stashed in my jacket pocket for later. For now, I grabbed a bagel with a smear of peanut butter and took a bite as I nuked the blood and poured it into a travel mug, just another Chicagoan on her way to the office.

There was something about the first bite of food in the morning—maybe the relative absence during sleep, maybe the reawakening of the taste buds—that made my simple breakfast seem nearly majestic.

I am only barely exaggerating. The depth of my relationship with food is no doubt thrilling to some and strange to others. It probably has something to do with the fact that I grew up feeling removed from the rest of my very wealthy, very fancy family. I’d entertain myself with my other great love—books—during a hot Chicago afternoon, usually with something to nibble on. I was especially fond of foods that could be dipped—tortilla chips, celery sticks, apple wedges, chocolate drops. Eating them was an activity in itself, a repetitive movement that was almost Zen-like.

Fortunately, I was athletic enough then that my weight stayed manageable. I’d danced ballet for many years, and had the toes to prove it. Also fortunately, my speedy vampiric metabolism now meant I could eat all night with no ill repercussions. Not that I had time for that kind of grazing. Not when vampires were possibly being abducted and our House was facing an uncertain future. And not when Lacey Sheridan was on her way.

Yes, I believed in me and Ethan, but I was still a girl. The last thing I needed was for her to find me wrist-deep in a bucket of Frank’s Finest fried chicken.

Although that did sound delicious. I made a mental note to grab a celebratory Cluckin’ Bucket after we found Oliver and Eve safe and sound. I really hoped we’d do that.

When I emerged into the main hallway with breakfast in hand, the House’s tension was palpable. We were forty-eight hours away from the severing of our GP ties, and they’d already made an appearance. The hum of nervous magic was becoming a torrent of full-on worry. I could feel it in the prickly air, the haze of anticipation that flowed through the House. The vampires of Cadogan House might trust both their Masters—Ethan and Malik—but they were entering unknown political territory.

I held the bagel with my teeth and fished the keys to my ancient Volvo from my pocket. Unlike last night, it was bone-chilling cold outside, the kind of cold only a hot bath or a roaring fire could cure.

Tonight the lawn was bereft of fragrant food trucks and revelry, but the nearly identical mercenary fairies still stood watch in front of the House. When I walked through the gate, their expressions were typically stoic, but they both nodded in acknowledgment. That was a recent development—and a hard-won victory. Fairies bore no strong love of vampires, but we’d had interactions recently with Claudia, the fairy queen, that seemed to have bridged the gap between us.

Windshield wipers flapping against the glass, I drove south to my grandfather’s modest house. Traffic wasn’t bad, but the drive still took a few minutes. I used the opportunity to check in with Jonah.

It took four rings for him to answer the phone, but his handsome, auburn-haired visage eventually popped up on the screen.

“Busy?” I wondered.

“Unfortunately, yes. Your House drama has spread. We’ve got already aggressive vampires mouthing off about the GP and talking about seceding.”

“Already aggressive?” I asked.

“Jocks,” Jonah said with a smile. “They spent their human lives lifting weights and destroying linemen. The adrenaline doesn’t fade.”

“Why do they want to secede?”

“They want to drink.”

Vampires or not, that was actually surprising. Most American Houses had sworn off drinking from humans or vampires. Their only source of blood was Blood4You, and they drank only from the bag or cup. Banning drinking from another person was supposed to help vampires assimilate; it kept their less endearing behaviors hidden from human view. Cadogan was one of the few Houses that still allowed drinking, and we took crap around the country—and from the GP—for doing it.

I was still a relative novice when it came