the Volvo and shut the door behind me, blowing the bangs from my forehead as I started the car.
"Good times," I muttered, as I turned the wheel into traffic. "Good times."
When I was parked in front of the House, I took a moment to get the next part of the investigation in motion. I dialed up Jeff's number.
His answer was enthusiastic. "Merit! We heard some shit went down last night. You okay?"
"Hey, Jeff. I'm good. I'll fill you in later. But for now I need a favor."
"The Jeff abides. What's up?"
I rattled off the phone number Jonah had given me. "It's the number that sent out a text about the party, which may or may not have been a rave. Can you trace it?"
"On it," he said, and I heard the rhythmic clack of keys. "Nothing in the first round," he said after a moment. "Give me a little bit of time.
I'll find it."
"You're a doll."
"You and I both know it. I'll call you."
"Thanks, Jeff."
That done, and the phone tucked away again, I glanced up at the House. Probably best to get the hard part over with. I headed inside - this time through a gauntlet of personal epithets from the protesters - and straight for Ethan's office.
The office door was open, and he sat at his desk, a phone at his ear.
I waited until he put the phone down, and then started in. The words came out in a rush.
"It was in a high-rise in Streeterville, but it wasn't an intimate rave, not like we think of them. This was at least two dozen vamps. A lot of magic, a lot of glamour, and a lot of fighting.
Everyone was on a hair trigger, like they were waiting for an excuse to rumble. There were plenty of humans, and some bloodletting. There's also a possibility they're being drugged to make them susceptible to glamour."
Ethan's eyes shifted to something behind me.
"Sire," he said after a moment, "this is Merit, Sentinel of Cadogan House. Merit, Darius West. Head of the Greenwich Presidium."
Oh, snap.
Chapter Ten
LIKE A BOSS
I froze, realizing for the first time - and much too late - that we weren't alone in the office. I clenched my eyes closed, embarrassment rising on my cheeks. So much for keeping our infiltration of the raves under wraps.
A few seconds later, I finally opened my eyes again, expecting to see fury in Ethan's. Instead, he offered a gently chastising look.
Maybe he had changed.
"I'm so sorry," I mouthed, before turning to Darius. He stood with Malik and Luc, in the office's sitting area in front of leather furniture that hadn't been there on my last visit. Helen did efficient work.
Darius was tall and lean, with a shaved head and blue eyes. His features were sharp and nearly arrogant - straight nose, wide mouth, aristocratic chin marked by a perfect cleft.
"That's a very interesting tale you weave," he said. Darius's accent was clearly English; his diction would have made the queen proud.
"Come have a seat. Ethan, won't you join us, as well?"
I had a sense the request was actually an order, so I took a seat on one of the leather chairs that faced the couch. As Ethan followed me over, Luc and Malik took seats on two end chairs. Ethan took the chair beside me.
Darius sat on the couch, then reached into his pocket and removed a slim, silver case. He popped it open and pulled out a thin black cigarette. It wasn't until he'd lifted it to his mouth that he looked at Ethan for permission.
"Be my guest," Ethan said, but it was clear he wasn't thrilled about Darius smoking in the House.
Cigarette at the corner of his mouth, Darius tucked the case back into his pocket and pulled out a book of matches. He lit one, leaving a sulfurous sting in the air, and touched it to the end of the cigarette before putting it out with a flick of his wrist. He dropped the wasted match into a heavy crystal dish on the coffee table that sat in the middle of the ring of furniture.
He puffed for a moment, then lifted a single eyebrow - I guess we now knew where that tic of Ethan's had come from - and blew a stream of fragrant smoke from the side of his mouth.
"In this political climate," he began, "with these challenges, you sent your Sentinel to a rave?"
"I'm not sure it was a rave," I put in, trying to salvage what I could.