Blade Bound

  And that was good enough for me.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  COLD FEET

  We’d ignored the tradition of sleeping in separate rooms, but Ethan was still gone when I woke. Margot had left a breakfast tray of muffins, fat red strawberries, and a pot of Earl Grey that fragranced the air with citrusy bergamot.

  “Let the wedding-night pampering begin,” I said, and poured myself a cup, settled into a chair in the sitting room for a few minutes of peace and quiet before the chaos began.

  Ethan had left a business card on the tray. His name was printed on the front, and on the back, in watercolor blue ink, was a heart and a note in his slanting script: “See you soon, my beautiful bride.”

  And because it was Ethan, a postscript followed: “Security briefing at D+1,” or one hour after dawn.

  This might have been my wedding night, but we still lived in Cadogan House.

  After the security briefing, I’d be whisked off to the Portman Grand, where I’d be dressed and primped up, then off to the library for the ceremony and reception.

  The implications of my having left the details to my mother and Helen suddenly hit me—they’d be in charge of my wedding day, and how and where I spent my time. Nice that I wouldn’t need to worry about it, but not as nice as having relaxed friendlies in charge of the events.

  I’d wear comfortable clothes to the primping session, I decided. Jeans, an old T-shirt, and a favorite pair of Pumas. My Cadogan medal, as always. And my hair unwashed, as the stylist had instructed me to do.

  • • •

  The House was somehow even more chaotic than it had been the night before. There were more human guards and a last rush of preparations for the wedding.

  The door opened, and the captain of Grey House’s guards walked in. Jonah was tall and handsome, with blue eyes, a perfect jaw, and auburn hair that just reached his shoulders. He was also technically my partner in the Red Guards, a secret organization created to monitor Masters and stand up for the rights of vampires. Jonah and I were fine, but the RG and I were still fighting because it preferred to ignore challenges instead of face them.

  He looked up at me, smiled. Jonah had a crush I couldn’t reciprocate, which probably put that slightly guilty look on his face.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, and there was something wonderfully bashful in the gesture. “I didn’t expect to see you. Before, I mean.”

  “It’s only Ethan I’m not supposed to see tonight,” I said with a smile, “but we’re going to ignore that rule. Why are you here?”

  “Security,” he said. “After last night, Luc asked if I’d mind keeping an eye on the House, at least until you and Ethan are off premises. Sounds like you had quite an eventful evening.”

  “‘Eventful’ barely cuts it. We’ve got a senior staff meeting, and then he should be downstairs.” Although, I thought, glancing toward the kitchen, I could probably find something for Jonah to do in the meantime. Something that would kill two birds with one stone. Or at least give them a little love tap . . .

  “Could you do me a favor first?” I asked.

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  I gestured toward the kitchen. “Could you go check with Margot—the House chef? See if she needs a hand with anything? She’s catering the wedding.”

  Jonah looked a little suspicious at the request, but seemed willing to indulge me, probably because it was my wedding day. Which was fine by me. Whatever worked.

  “Okay, sure.”

  I gestured to the hallway, walked him as far as Ethan’s office, then made sure he walked into the kitchen.

  Fate, I hoped, would do the rest.

  • • •

  The mood in Ethan’s office was grim. Not exactly the feel one wanted on one’s wedding night, but business was business, and vampires were vampires. Drama was inevitable.

  Ethan sat behind his desk, Luc and Malik on the other side of the room futzing with the electronics.

  “Good evening,” I said, when Ethan glanced up at me.

  “Sentinel. Happy wedding night.”

  “And to you. How are you feeling?”

  Ethan sat back in his chair, arms crossed, fairly glowing with power and confidence. And he didn’t seem overly worried—a good sign. “As well as a man might, when he’s set to marry a beautiful and brave woman.”

  Not a bad sentiment to start the day.

  “Your grandfather called. Winston Stiles is at the supernatural holding facility. He came to during the day still delusional and violent, so they sedated him. He remains sedated.”

  Ethan might have called it a holding facility, but in reality it was a prison where the city’s supernatural convicts were held. Those men and women included a vampire named Logan Hill, the man who’d attacked me and left me for dead, the reason Ethan made me a vampire. The man whose identity I’d learned only a few scant months ago, when he’d been helping Sorcha.

  The man I’d let live.

  “Was he able to tell them anything about the source of the delusions?” I asked.

  “No,” Ethan said. “When he surfaced, he talked about the voice again, begged them to stop it. And then he broke through one of his restraints and got his hands on a guard. He was sedated after that, at least until they can figure out what to do.”

  “Does he need medicating?” I asked.

  Ethan shook his head. “There’s no history of mental illness in his medical records. He was a night watchman at a bank in Skokie, at least until he was laid off. There’s a physician at the prison, but at the moment, this appears to be a mental breakdown of some sort.”

  “Caused by something he wanted to talk to you about?”

  “Perhaps,” Ethan said. “Catcher and Jeff started the investigatory workup during the day.” He smiled a little. “They didn’t want you running around tonight before the wedding. Had some concern you’d show up late, filthy, or injured.”

  “And what are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to get married,” Ethan said. “And then we’re going to Paris, just as we planned. We’re going to let the Ombudsman’s office deal with supernatural issues, as is their responsibility. And we aren’t going to stress over it.”

  I narrowed my gaze at him. “How long have you been preparing that speech?”

  His smile was sly. “Since I talked to your grandfather.” He rose, walked around the desk, and put his hands on my face. “We are allowed to live, Merit. We are allowed to leave problems to those best able to solve them.”

  I nodded, tried to accept that. It was hard not to when looking up into those deeply green eyes. And I did have other things to worry about today. But it was hard. Hard not to think about the state of the world. Even if we were promising “for better or worse,” that didn’t mean I wanted “for worse” to become apocalyptically bad.

  “We’ll protect the House,” Ethan said. “We’ll watch the video, discover how he avoided our security, and let your grandfather handle the rest of it.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “You’re right. It’s our wedding night, and we can’t solve every problem for everyone.” Winston would have to find his own way. Maybe my grandfather’s office could help with that.

  “We’re ready,” Luc said after a moment, looking up and around the room. Ethan and I walked to the sitting area, where leather chairs and couches surrounded a low table.

  “We’ve pieced the vampire’s movements together from the various cameras,” Luc said, his face void of expression, clearly still upset about the security lapse. I could understand the feeling. “This is from four nights ago.”

  He pressed a button and the video began, the screen filling with the shot of the House foyer. The camera was positioned in the middle of the space, angled down to catch the closed front door, bench of suppli
cants to the left, and desk to the right.

  The front door opened, and our vampire walked in, the dark of night behind him. He moved to the front desk, signed in, took a seat on the bench beside four other vampires.

  “He was a supplicant,” I said.

  Luc nodded. “He signed in as Winston. Didn’t identify any last name or House, just ‘UNAFF,’ which I take to mean unaffiliated.”

  The clock on the screen ticked along, half an hour, forty-five minutes, then a full hour, and still Winston waited. But if he was agitated—or experiencing the delusions—he didn’t show it. He looked bored and perturbed by the wait, but an hour on an uncomfortable bench would do that. And then I saw it.

  “Zoom in on him,” I said. “On his right hand, if you can manage it.”

  “Zooming,” Luc said, and the image grew closer. It was more pixelated, but the movement was clear.

  “He’s hitting his leg with his fist,” I said, and drew my fingers together, demonstrated. “Not a tap, or a nervous habit. It’s irregular. And he’s putting some force behind it.”

  “You’re thinking it’s a tic?” Ethan asked.

  “This guy looks clean-shaven, reasonably put together, average appearance. And we know what he became. I’m wondering how much of it was in there before.”

  He crossed his arms, then raised his right hand to his temple, knocked the side of his fist against his head. Just once, but once was enough.

  Time passed, and the other four vampires left and were replaced, which presumably put Winston next in line for Ethan’s office. But then he looked at his wrist, and probably his watch, rose from the bench, and walked out the door.

  “He didn’t sign out,” Malik said.

  “No,” Luc agreed. “And he didn’t linger.” The video shifted to the House’s front lawn. The vampire walked down the sidewalk, disappeared through the gate. The video shifted again, and he continued down the street, disappeared into darkness.

  “No further sight of him at the House this night,” Luc said, then glanced at Ethan. “Does he look familiar?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  Luc nodded. “But this is from two days ago.” The video shifted to the next segment, and the foyer appeared on the screen again.

  The vampire walked in again. This time, he looked the way I’d seen him last night. Disheveled—in the same clothes he’d worn before, but in worse condition—his movements more erratic. His lips moved as if in silent conversation.

  A different Novitiate was at the desk, so she wouldn’t have recognized him from the previous visit.

  The vampire moved to the bench, took a seat. And the waiting began again.

  He stayed seated but rubbed his temples vigorously, one foot tapping a quick and agitated tattoo. The vampire at the desk occasionally looked up but didn’t ask the man to leave or otherwise interact with him.

  “We take all comers,” Ethan quietly said, gaze intent on the screen. “She wouldn’t have turned him away unless he was violent. As it was, he just seemed . . . nervous?”

  “Afraid,” I agreed. “Or perhaps like he’s in pain, not that he’s planning to hurt anyone.” And he probably never had been. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, if his intent was to make the screaming stop.

  “Still,” Malik said. “They could use more training at the front desk. I’ll make plans.”

  Once again, time passed, and vampires who’d arrived before him left to talk to Ethan, then returned to the foyer and left the House.

  Forty-seven minutes had passed when two vampires moved through the foyer and to the front door with boxes. Since Helen was leading them, it was probably more gear for the party.

  The second vampire carried box atop box, and one of them tumbled over, spilling its contents across the floor. The vampire at the desk, and two of the other supplicants, began gathering up the supplies. And as they did, Winston walked past the desk and stairs and into the main hallway. The view shifted, followed. He stopped in the middle of the hallway—empty, fortunately for him—and seemed to fight back the voice he’d started hearing.

  “Storage closet,” Ethan said, and Luc nodded.

  “He stayed there through the day. No one came in or out, and there’s no camera in the closet. Nothing disturbed, except a few linens on the floor.”

  “He bedded down,” Ethan said.

  “Yeah. Stayed there until four a.m.” The view returned to the hallway. The vampire walked to the dark cafeteria, and from those cameras, we watched as he drank bottles of blood right out of the case, then shoved the empties back inside. Then he walked into Ethan’s dark office, and the view shifted to a camera mounted somewhere behind Ethan’s desk.

  A new horror occurred to me. I didn’t realize there were cameras in here, I silently said, my face heating as I frantically tried to recall what unspeakable acts Ethan and I had performed in that room. And I’d think twice before kissing him in there again.

  I’m the only one who has access to it, Ethan said, squeezing my hand. Your secrets are safe with me.

  The vampire and I wrestled around the room; then I grabbed the paperweight and brained him with it. He hit the floor, and that was that.

  Silence fell over the room.

  “So let’s summarize,” I said. “He wanted an audience with Ethan. Four nights ago, he makes his first attempt. He seems relatively stable, if impatient. Two nights ago, he comes back. He’s more agitated, and his illness—if that’s what this is—has progressed. He’s impatient again, but this time manages to get into the House proper because of our all-comers policy and a coincidental distraction. He spends most of that time alone, until he looks for Ethan again, and doesn’t find him. I find him, and he’s almost completely succumbed to his demons.”

  “He escalated,” Malik said. “Or worsened.”

  “From relatively normal to incapacitated in five days?” Luc asked, crossing his arms. “That seems impossible.”

  “Not if he was off his meds,” I said. “Incapacitated could be his usual state, and we watched him wean himself off.”

  “Intentionally or otherwise,” Ethan agreed, and looked at me. “It’s also possible he isn’t suffering from an illness, but magic. He’s in custody now, and there’s no reason to believe this was anything other than an isolated incident; Catcher confirmed that. But there is a bigger lesson—this might have been avoided if I’d made time to see him. Two separate nights of waiting, and I didn’t let him in. I didn’t talk to him.”

  “He didn’t wait to be let in,” Malik pointed out. “He didn’t wait for longer than an hour either time, which is faster than he’d have gotten into an emergency room. And he didn’t call the House or the Ombudsman,” Malik added before Ethan could argue. “If there was an emergency, he could have reached us that way. It wasn’t an emergency, and evidently not worth more than an hour of his time.”

  I bit back a smile. Malik was normally the strong and silent type, which made his strong defense of Ethan that much more enjoyable. And the tension around Ethan’s eyes seemed to soften, just a little.

  “I’ll work with Malik,” Luc said. “We’ll talk about new procedures for supplicants.” He lifted his gaze to mine, and it was heavy with guilt.

  It took me a moment to understand. He was afraid the vampire might have seriously hurt me—or taken me out altogether—the night before the wedding. That he’d have taken out the bride of his Master, the man to whom he’d pledged an oath. The wedding was doing a number on all of us.

  “You’re not thinking,” I said, and fire lit in Luc’s eyes at my harsh tone. Good. He could use the fire.

  “Excuse me?” he asked, not used to my questioning him—at least not when he was in guard-captain mode.

  “I’m stronger than him, and better trained. He’d been on the street for who knows how long, and having some sort of psychotic breakdown to boot. My handling
it was inevitable. And more importantly, I was in the best position to handle it. Better me than Helen or Margot or anyone else who isn’t trained for combat.”

  Luc’s jaw worked as he mulled over my thoughts.

  Ethan reached out, squeezed my hand. “You did train her well,” he pointed out.

  “Damn right I did. Don’t entirely like having it thrown back in my face, especially when I fuck up.”

  “And none of that, either,” I said. “This wasn’t your fault.”

  He looked up at me. “It was,” he said. “House security is my responsibility.”

  “Yours and mine,” I corrected. “I stand Sentinel. It’s my job, at least in part, to protect the House. We both had that responsibility, so if there’s any blame to pass, it’s mine, too.” I looked at Ethan, hated the uncomfortable clutch in my belly, the fact that I’d only just now taken responsibility for the breach. It shouldn’t have taken me that long to acknowledge my contribution, or apologize for it. “I’m sorry for that.”

  Fire blazed in Ethan’s eyes, and I hoped it was pride, not anger.

  “She’s right,” Ethan said, looking at both of us. “We’ve identified a gap in our security—one we hadn’t known existed. We know now, and we’ll adjust our processes. We’ll correct and move forward. That’s what we do. That’s what we always do. And speaking of moving forward,” he said, glancing at me, “now that we’ve all donned our particular hair shirts, we should probably prepare for the evening.”

  “I think that’s our cue to go,” Malik said with a smile, rising and patting Luc’s shoulder as he passed, a sign of solidarity.

  “Sentinel.”

  I looked back at Luc.

  “I just want you to know—your taking responsibility tonight shows . . . that I trained you really well.”

  I mostly bit back a smile. “That’s what you’re going with?”

  He smiled. “Yeah. I think, tonight, we probably need it.”

  They disappeared, and I’d only managed to move a step closer to Ethan when another figure stepped into the doorway.