stood in front, as was his way, and didn’t seem to appreciate the katana blades currently aimed at his neck by the duty guards. But there was a bright cut on one guard’s face, and Clive’s knuckles were white around the handle of his katana.
We strode down the sidewalk, my father in the lead, flanked by Lindsey and my mother. I was behind them, and it didn’t take a vampiric load of strategy to realize they’d formed a wall to protect me. Some of that was bravado; my parents didn’t want war against the AAM. But some of it, I knew, was parental ferocity. And I hoped it wouldn’t get them hurt.
At the sight of me, the vampires behind Clive moved forward. Two of the three who’d come to my doorway that first night were with him—Levi and Sloan. Their third, Blake, was gone. And each of them gazed at me with hatred born of their belief that I’d killed him.
“Johnson,” Lindsey called out to the guard with the injury. “You good?”
“Fine,” Johnson said, with a curl to his lip. “This excuse for a vampire believed he could trespass on Cadogan property. I corrected him.”
“Well done,” she said, then nodded at my father.
“I am Ethan Sullivan,” he said, stepping forward. “Master of Cadogan House and member of the Assembly of American . . . Masters,” he stressed after a dramatic pause, emphasizing the fact that he outranked Clive.
If Clive was shamed, he didn’t show it. “Clive. Compliance Bureau, AAM. We are here on the authority of Nicole Heart.”
I couldn’t see my father’s face, but guessed it held great displeasure. “You have surrounded a registered House with soldiers and weaponry without invitation. I very seriously doubt Nicole Heart authorized that.”
“We have business with Elisa Sullivan.”
“Who is on private property,” my father pointed out. “And who, as she’s told you before, is not a Novitiate of Cadogan House. You have no business here.”
“We have business with Elisa Sullivan,” Clive repeated, either too arrogant or too stupid to hear the threat in my father’s words. “The longer it takes to resolve this issue, the more people will be injured.”
My father’s head tilted. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s a statement of fact.”
“Please trespass,” my mother called out. “Please give me an opportunity.” My mother loved a good fight.
“Sentinel,” my dad said, a gentle rebuke that carried no heat.
But the Bureau vamps exchanged glances, looked not entirely sure it was a good idea to take on Cadogan’s famous Sentinel. Levi stepped forward, whispered something to his brother that had Clive’s expression tightening.
My father allowed silence to fall again, watching the vampires with the mildest expression. Clive swallowed hard; the tips of the katanas were millimeters from his skin.
A minute passed, then two, while they watched each other. Twelve Bureau vampires against the several dozen currently on the House’s lawn, all of them silent and still and ready to fight for their Master, their House. And for me, I thought guiltily. Even though I wouldn’t join them.
Clive blinked first. His jaw worked as he swallowed down harsh words, but he released the katana. It fell to the ground, the steel like a bell against concrete.
“He should be punished for that alone,” Lindsey murmured. “Dropping a katana on the ground. Disrespectful.”
I bit back a grin. I had missed the trademark Cadogan House humor.
“Because I believe in the rule of law,” my father said, “but I do not engage with those who threaten our House or our people, I will allow you, and you alone, through the gate. You will leave that sword on the ground.”
Clive and the others discussed; after a long pause, he stepped forward. The gate was opened to allow him to slip through, then closed and locked again.
He strode toward us with hatred in his eyes, all of it centered on me. “We are here to take Elisa Sullivan into custody.”
But my father, much like the Pack, was no pushover. He slid his hands into his pockets, and his stare was blank and mild. “No. You are not.”
“She is a murderer.”
“Wrong again,” my father said. “As I’m sure you’re well aware, she was nowhere near the scene of your colleague’s unfortunate demise, nor did she have any motive to wish him dead.”
But Clive read the truth as a lie. “Cover-up. The Ombudsman’s office is tied closely to the Chicago Houses and can’t be trusted.”
“Yet you’d allow Elisa join our House to satisfy your conditions?”
“There are rules,” Clive said, like it was a mission statement.
“So there