House Rules - Chloe Neill Page 0,7

a House. We just don’t do it.”

The clink of metal against glass brought our attention to Ethan, who stood nearby, a champagne flute in one hand and a fork in the other.

“If I could have your attention,” he said, placing the fork on a nearby table while the crowd quieted. “I’d like to take this opportunity to welcome the unaffiliated vampires of this city to Cadogan House. I hope you’ve felt our door was open to you, and I certainly hope that you’ll feel that way after our status changes. It is true that we’re a House. But we are now, have always been, and will continue to be a collective of vampires. We have chosen to come together just as you have chosen to stand as proud individual vampires, and we respect your decisions to do so. We are searching for a new way to live and thrive as vampires.” He smiled rakishly. “We may come to you for advice.”

There were a few appreciative chuckles in the crowd, and a few suspicious grunts. It was becoming clear that the city’s Rogues weren’t just going to welcome us with open arms; we’d have to prove our worth to them just as we had to the GP. Maybe, unlike the GP, the Rogues would actually listen.

Ethan looked down at the ground for a moment, his forehead wrinkling in the center. That was a sign he was worried, and when he looked up across the crowd again, the concern in his eyes was clear.

“These are strange times,” he said. “We have been tested, as this city has been tested. Recent events have been difficult for vampires and Chicago, and they may become more so. Other supernaturals’ announcements of their existence, while taking some of the spotlight off vampires, have made humans increasingly nervous about our presence. Tate’s antics did nothing to improve the humans’ esteem; nor has the new mayor offered any help.”

There was no disagreement with that point. Diane Kowalcyzk, Chicago’s new mayor, wasn’t bright, and she seemed to be overtly prejudiced against supernaturals. She’d even made friends with McKetrick, first name unknown, a former military type with a raging hatred of vampires.

“At the risk of speaking ill of our soon-to-be former leaders, it probably won’t surprise you to learn that the Greenwich Presidium has turned a blind eye to those developments, and has refused to accept the changing world. We don’t think that’s fair, and we think it’s time for a change. This week we take our stand. We cannot predict the future,” Ethan said. “We do our best, and we hope—with love and luck and friendship—that we survive these turbulent times.”

He held up his champagne glass. “May the winds blow fair through your journeys, wherever they may lead. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” responded the crowd, and everyone took a sip.

Without missing a beat, Ethan walked to Noah’s table and shook his hand. The chatter returned to normal levels, vampires digging back into their proteins while two of the most important vampires in the city made nice in front of their minions.

I had to give it to Ethan: He was right that times were precarious, but he’d managed to convince a chunk of the city’s unaffiliated Rogues to venture into our domain, break bread with us, and toast our collective futures. Fanged or not, the man had a way with words.

Fortunately for me, his skills weren’t limited to his vocabulary.

As if sensing the somewhat lurid direction of my thoughts, Ethan turned toward me and smiled, my toes curling just from the heat of a look.

His conversation with Noah done, he walked toward me, every female eye—and some of the men’s eyes, too—on him as he moved, the embodiment of masculinity. A vampire in his prime.

He stopped behind my chair and held out a hand. The entire table went silent.

“Dance with me,” he said.

My cheeks warmed. “There’s no music.”

Before he had time to respond, the quartet in the corner—a group of Cadogan and Rogue vampires with musical talents—began to play a jazzy tune.

I gave him a sardonic look. “Did you just telepathically direct them to start playing that?”

“What’s the point of being telepathic if you can’t use the connection for a wee bit of wickedness, Sentinel?”

I heard the yearning sigh of a female vampire to my right, and caught the dreamy-eyed gaze of a male vampire to my left. Ethan was an equal-opportunity crush.

He wiggled his fingers. “Merit?”

With the audience’s eyes on me, it would have been difficult to say no to Ethan even