"A few pints of blood might also speed the healing."
Ethan nodded. "And our investigation of V?"
"I've made the GP's position clear."
"Sire - ," Ethan began, but Darius silenced him with a hand.
"There is more to consider, Ethan, than the game you are playing with your mayor. You take care of your House; allow Mr. Grey and Mr.
Greer to take care of theirs. The rest is none of your concern, and that includes any current GP members. Is that clear?"
Ethan's jaw twitched, but he managed a nod.
"Of course, Sire."
Darius nodded officially, then offered a weak smile for me. "Heal quickly, Merit," he said, and then he was off again, Charlie stepping into line behind him.
"I'd like to go home," I quietly said.
"The sentiment is definitely mutual," Ethan said, his gaze still following his political master as he disappeared into the man-made jungle. "Let's go home."
Ethan insisted on carrying me to the car, which felt equal parts ridiculous and romantic. As a self-assured woman, it wasn't exactly
comfortable being carried like a child. On the other hand, Ethan had made me a vampire, and the link between us remained. The scent and feel of him was soothing, and I managed to enjoy being swept up in his arms, no matter how guilty the pleasure.
When we reached the House again, I protested enough that he let me walk back upstairs to my room, but he refused to let me leave it. While Ethan retrieved blood from the kitchen, I changed into yoga pants and a Cubs T-shirt and lay down on my bed, a pile of pillows behind my tender head.
Ethan returned carrying a giant plastic cup with a handle, the kind a trucker might buy to provide an all-day dose of caffeine for the road.
"Was that the smallest container you could find?"
"I prefer not to underestimate your potential for grumpiness," he said, sitting down on the edge of my bed and offering the vessel.
I humphed, but accepted the cup and began to sip through the hard plastic straw stuck through its top. After a moment, I pulled back. "Is there chocolate sauce in the blood?"
His cheekbones pinked a bit. "Since you weren't feeling well, I thought a little chocolate might do you good."
Unfortunately, chocolate and blood weren't a tasty combination. But he'd gone to such trouble that I couldn't bear to disappoint him.
"Thank you," I said, taking another heartening sip. "That was really thoughtful."
He nodded, then sat quietly while I drank. I sipped until I felt the latent hunger ease, then put the cup on the nightstand beside me. I closed my eyes and sank back into the bed, my head against the backstop of pillows. As soon as I was still again, exhaustion overwhelmed me.
"I'm tired, Ethan."
"It's been another long evening," he said.
But I shook my head - just a little, so my head didn't throb with it. "It's not just the concussion.
It's the work. I wouldn't want a cop's job. I'm not entirely sure I want my job right now."
"And miss all the fun and excitement? The chance to review security footage and fight drug-addled vampires?"
"Don't forget about pissing off the head of the Greenwich Presidium."
"Ah, yes. Who'd have thought, less than a year ago when you were grading papers, that your life would come to this?"
"Certainly not me," I said. I opened my eyes again and looked over at him. "Are we going to finish this? Or are we going to do as he asked?"
"I don't know. I certainly prefer not to put my fate in Tate's hands." Ethan sighed and rolled his shoulders. "Tate called the House while we were gone. Informed Malik he was tired of the delay, and said I had forty-eight hours before my warrant was issued."
"Awesome," I muttered.
He looked back at me, his eyes glowing emeralds. "We should talk about the kiss."
This time, I was the one who blushed. "Is there anything to talk about? We were high."
He gave me a flat look; I looked away.
"At least admit that there's more to it than drugs," he quietly said.
I looked away, gnawed the edge of my lip, and pondered the irony. I'd kissed Ethan, and he wanted to discuss our relationship. We'd now completely switched roles.
"There's more to it," I finally agreed. "But you know how I feel."
"And you still aren't convinced my intentions are noble?"
I was becoming more convinced, I thought to myself, but how could I tell him that? How could I confess it without sounding cruel for