I thought of what I’d told Gwen. “He believes in what he’s doing. Not just that rules are important, but that rules are the only thing that is important. It goes beyond me. If Nicole Heart broke a rule, no matter how innocuous, I think he’d do the same to her. Not because it would mean no favoritism, but because he has no real loyalty to her. If she broke a rule, he’d punish her, too. Maybe it’s a kind of obsession,” I suggested. “Maybe it’s about control. There was nothing unusual in his background that you found? The Ombuds didn’t, but . . .”
“We found nothing on Clive,” my mother said. “We did the full run. And speaking of the Ombuds,” my mother said, “we know about the stalker. You should have told us.”
“I didn’t know until after we’d talked.” And damn whoever had told them first. “I haven’t seen him—only the notes—until tonight.”
“Connor’s okay?” my mother asked.
“He says he is. He wanted to come with me, but I told him to rest. Lulu and I are staying . . . at a second location,” I decided on. “It was offered by the Pack.” I didn’t want to get into the details of Connor’s purchase, or the reasons for it, when I was still dealing with those myself. And the less they knew, the less could be used against them.
“Good,” my father said. “It’s secure?”
“It is.” I was basically living with two strong and capable shifters, but it didn’t seem appropriate to mention that, either.
My father rose suddenly, moved to the door. My mother did the same, as if positioning themselves between me and some danger. Given the silence, I presumed they’d gotten telepathic messages.
“They’re here,” I guessed. “The Bureau.” So much for not bringing the trouble to their door, I thought with disgust, anger rising like a moon-pulled tide.
“They’re outside the gate,” my mother said, no doubt informed by my father through their silent telepathic connection. She strode to my father’s desk, plucked his mounted katana from the wall.
“Sentinel,” my father said, the blade singing as she unsheathed it. “Let’s not provoke war.”
She glanced back at him, eyes silvered, fingers clenched around the sword’s handle. “They threaten my child, they provoke me.”
I cleared my throat, feeling both too young and too old for this conversation, standing in my father’s office, in this House. Here, I was an overgrown child, still not quite adult enough. And it made me itchy.
“Any chance you’ll let me handle this on my own?” I asked.
My dad gave me a look I’d seen at least a hundred times. Eyebrow arched, imperious stare. Every bit the Master in control.
“No.” There was no meanness in his voice, but there was plenty of determination. “You are our child. Perhaps,” he said, “we’re learning to let you fly when you’re away from here. But here, in our home, we will protect you.”
There was a knock on the doorjamb. The vampire who stood there was blond and pale and pretty, her jaunty ponytail a strange foil against the black fatigues. Lindsey was my mother’s closest vampire friend and one of the House’s guards. She and Luc were married.
“Report,” my father said.
“Liege,” Lindsey said. “The guard towers are staffed. Dozen outside the perimeter. None have breached.”
“Cowards,” my mother muttered, then looked sheepish when we all glanced her way. “Sorry—I don’t mean they should attack. I meant they’ll strike at Lis, the others, when they’re alone, but not at the House.”
“Perhaps they’re wise enough to understand there are lines even they shouldn’t cross.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” I murmured.
Lindsey gave me a sad smile. “It’s good to see you, Lis. Sorry about the circumstances.”
“Good to see you, too. And same.”
“Thank you, Lindsey,” Dad said and looked back at me, offered a supportive smile. “We’ll see what they have to say.”
I nodded, and he looked at my mother. “Ready, Sentinel?”
Her smile was wide. “Yes, please. I never get to do the fun stuff anymore.”
I loved my parents. But sometimes, they were a lot.
* * *
* * *
We made our way through the House, which was quiet now. That was the case, I discovered, because virtually every vampire was on the lawn, swords belted, waiting for orders.
The Bureau vampires were, as promised, on the other side of the fence. Clive 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.”