House Rules - Chloe Neill Page 0,30

to him so I could lower my voice. There was no need to publicize the gory details.

“Decapitation,” I said. “They were in a warehouse in Little Italy, in a secure room tucked into the back of one of the storage floors. Their bodies had been arranged, but there was no other notable evidence except wood slivers on the floor. Lots of them, just like the kind produced by McKetrick’s gun.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “There’s evidence he’s involved?”

“Only circumstantially. There’s nothing but the wood at the moment. Jeff and Catcher are sending a sliver to Detective Jacobs; the phone and glass we found in the alley are already there. Unfortunately, that’s all the information we’ve got. The property records were a dead end.”

He walked closer and put a hand on my cheek. “And how are you?”

“Disturbed,” I admitted. “Noah and the others are clearly grieving, and we’ve got nothing but potential lab results. Although Jeff’s going to look into Oliver’s and Eve’s backgrounds, see if anything pops there.”

He rubbed his thumb along my jawline, and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “It’s a good thought, Sentinel.”

“Any word from Darius?” I wondered.

“No,” Ethan said. “But I expect I’ll hear something soon enough. Darius rarely acts without an ulterior motive.”

“Has Paige ferreted out anything about what that ulterior motive might be?”

“Not yet. The other Decertification records weren’t helpful. They were many years ago, and the disputes involved alchemical equations and the treatment of tenants. The lessons aren’t entirely applicable in the modern age.”

“Huh.” I remembered Jonah’s comment about the contract being the key, and feigned a bright idea. “You know, since vampires are, as you said, sticklers for rules, maybe there’s something in the rules themselves. I assume the House has some kind of contract with the GP about sharing investment funds and stuff; is there anything in there about the transition?”

Ethan’s brows lifted in surprise. “That’s not a bad idea, Sentinel. I’ll suggest it to Paige.” It wasn’t a positive development, but at least it was movement. I’d take progress any day.

There was a knock at the door. A dark-haired man stood in the doorway. His jaw was square, his cheekbones honed. His face was angular, but not unattractive, mostly because of his eyes. They were big, dark, and hazel, with lashes long enough to tangle at the corners. He wore black trousers and a white button-down. On his right hand he wore a gold signet ring. He was handsome, but in an almost severe way. Like he might have been a Spartan in a past life.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked.

“You’re just in time,” Ethan said, walking forward with a hand extended. “It’s nice to see you.”

They shook hands at the elbow, one of those masculine rituals that suggested they were, as Ethan had said, already acquainted.

“Good to see you, too, Ethan.” The stranger slid a glance my way. “And this is her, I presume?”

Ethan smiled slyly and extended an arm toward me. “This is her. Merit, this is Michael Donovan, our security auditor.”

“Merit,” I offered, extending a hand. Michael’s grip was strong, confident. His magic was subtle, checking me out and testing my measure. He wasn’t the first vampire to try such things on me—Celina was famous for doing it—but since Ethan trusted him, I let him get away with it.

“Michael Donovan,” he said. “You stand Sentinel?”

“All night long.”

He smiled, a dimple alighting at one corner of his mouth. “She’s clever, Ethan.”

“Yes, she is,” I agreed, glancing between the two of them. “And how do you know each other?”

“We met a few years ago,” Ethan said. “Michael was acquainted with Celina.”

I glanced at him cautiously, and held back the snark that would have normally followed a comment like that. God knew I wasn’t a fan of Celina’s, but there were plenty of vampires—including the members of the GP—who thought differently.

“Oh?” I simply asked. “Were you a member of Navarre House?”

“I was not,” Michael said, leaning toward me, eyes twinkling. “Nor was I an admirer of Ms. Desaulniers’s.”

“Then you’re on the side of right and justice, and I won’t hold it against you.”

He held out a hand collegially. “I think that’s entirely fair.”

We shook on it, and I found myself liking Ethan’s new security guru.

There was another knock at Ethan’s door; his room had apparently become the House’s Union Station.

Malik stood in the doorway. “I’m sorry, but could I interrupt you for a moment? Our banker has a time-sensitive question.”

“Of course. Excuse me.” Ethan smiled politely, then followed Malik out of the