by Neill, Chloe
“Hmm. And are you?” I realized my hands had begun to shake, and I tucked them between my knees. Even if I accepted the notion that Ethan loved me unconditionally, that didn’t mean I wouldn’t fear for his safety if he decided to challenge Darius.
He looked at me for a long, quiet moment, took my hand. “I believe, Sentinel, that I am.”
I felt like I’d been pushed off a cliff, suddenly dizzy, suddenly worried. “And the House? Chicago?”
“Will be protected,” he said. “There is a long road before the leadership of the GP is settled. A potentially dangerous road,” he admitted. “But a long road nonetheless. All things can be worked out.”
“And London?” I asked. “Can it be worked out?”
“Come here,” Ethan murmured, and before I could move, my hand was in his, and we were moving. He led me up and out of the cafeteria, down the hallway, and up the stairs.
“Where are we going?” I asked as we rounded the third-floor landing and headed down the hallway to a room I knew was empty except for the pull-down ladder that led to the attic and the House’s widow’s walk.
“I’m showing you something,” Ethan said, pulling down the ladder. He gestured toward it. “You first.”
I knew when to obey without sarcasm. I climbed up and into the attic, which wasn’t much to see. Mostly rafters and insulation. The window that led to the roof was closed. I unlatched it and pushed it open, assuming that was what Ethan had intended me to do. As he climbed the ladder behind me, I stepped outside.
The widow’s walk was a narrow ledge around this part of the roof, marked by a short wrought-iron barrier. Lake Michigan was a dark stain to the east, and downtown Chicago shined to the north.
The roof creaked as Ethan stepped beside me. He put one hand around my waist and used the other to point at the blinking lights of the city.
“There,” he said. “If I take power, that is the new seat of the Greenwich Presidium.”
It took me a moment to understand what he’d said, the scope of the change he’d just proposed. “You want to move the GP to Chicago?”
“I will move the GP to Chicago,” Ethan said, filling those words with every bit of pretention and egoism I knew him capable of.
He tilted my chin to meet his gaze. “You are my soul, Merit. But vampires are my body. To be whole, I must respect both. And the GP has held court too far from the American Houses for far too long. It’s time the GP came home to roost.”
“They’ll fight to keep the seat in Europe,” I said. “Danica and the others won’t let you move it.”
“If they do not control the GP, they will have no choice.” He touched a fingertip to my lips. “I made my choice, Merit, many months ago. There is no turning back. Not now.”
His lips so soft, yet so stern, he pressed his mouth to mine.
“I will have both of you,” he said. “My Sentinel and my city. And the GP will learn exactly how stubborn we both can be.”
Chloe Neill was born and raised in the South but now makes her home in the Midwest—just close enough to Cadogan House and St. Sophia’s to keep an eye on things. When not transcribing Merit’s and Lily’s adventures, she bakes, works, and scours the Internet for good recipes and great graphic design. Chloe also maintains her sanity by spending time with her boys—her favorite landscape photographer (her husband) and their dogs, Baxter and Scout. (Both she and the photographer understand the dogs are in charge.)
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