Part 25 (1/2)
”I don't appreciate being handed out like a party favor.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. ”What would you like me to say to that?”
I opened my mouth to give an answer just as snarky as my question, but a silver tray appeared at my elbow, interrupting me. The tray held only a small white card. JOSHUA MERIT was printed in neat block letters across it.
My heart skipped a discomforting beat, those six square inches of cardstock eliciting the same sense of dreadful antic.i.p.ation they had when I was a child. My father had wanted peace and quiet and perfection, and on those occasions when he sought an audience with me for some failing in one of those categories, this is how he'd done it.
I reached out and picked up the card, then glanced at Pennebaker, who'd delivered it.
”Your father will see you in his office,” he said with a bob of his head, then disappeared into the crowd.
We stood silently for a moment, my gaze on the card in my hand.
”You're ready,” Ethan said, and I understood that the statement was meant to be an affirmation.
”Ready enough,” I said. I smoothed the silk at my waist, and led him away.
My father rose from a black-and-chrome Mies van der Rohe couch when we slid open the top-mounted, reclaimed-wood door. Where Papa Breck's office had been warm and masculine, my father's was cold.
It fit right in with the rest of the house's ultramodern decor.
”Merit, Ethan,” my father said, waving us inside with a hand. I heard the door slide shut behind us and a.s.sumed Pennebaker had attended to it.
Merit, I heard in my head, as I saw what Ethan had no doubt realized and meant to warn me about-that Nicholas and Papa Breck were standing in my father's office.
Nick was in jeans, a T-s.h.i.+rt, and a brown corduroy sports jacket. Papa Breck, a solidly large, barrel-chested man, was in a tuxedo. They stood together, bodies close and aligned, suspicious eyes on us as we entered.
I looked at Nick, tried to ferret out his mood, which didn't take long given the anger in his eyes, the tightness in his jaw. And when he looked from me to Ethan, took in the dress and the tuxedo,disappointment joined his other expressions. The others were confusing, but the disappointment stung.
Papa Breck nodded at me. That nod was apparently the only greeting he could spare for the (vampire) daughter of his best friend, for his son's former girlfriend. I hadn't seen Michael Breckenridge, Sr., in years, but I'd have expected more than a nod. Maybe words, some indication of the closeness of our families, the relations.h.i.+p that had existed between me and Nick. I'd practically been a member of that family, for all the summer vacations I'd spent at his house, running through the halls, through the gra.s.s, along the dirt-lined path to the labyrinth.
On the other hand, I suppose I should have considered myself fortunate, as he didn't even spare Ethan a nod.
”The Breckenridges have received information,” my father said, ”about a threat of violence against their son.”
The surprise was evident in Ethan's expression. ”A threat of violence?”
”Don't play coy,” Nick muttered. ”Don't pretend you don't know what we're talking about.”
Ethan's jaw clenched, and he slipped his hands into his pockets. ”I am afraid, Nicholas, that we have no idea what you're talking about. We do not threaten violence. We certainly have not issued a threat of violence against you.”
”Not me,” Nicholas said. ”Jamie.”
The room went silent, at least until I spoke up. ”Someone threatened Jamie? What was the threat?” I asked. ”And why would you think it came from us?”
Nick's gaze slowly s.h.i.+fted to mine, stubbornness in the set of his jaw.
”Tell me, Nick,” I implored him. ”I can guarantee you we haven't threatened Jamie. But even if we had, you lose nothing from telling us what you've heard. Either we made the threat, so we know what it is already, or we've been framed, and we need to figure out what the h.e.l.l's going on.”
Nick glanced back at his father, who nodded, then turned back to us. ”Before we talked in the garden at my parents', we got a phone call at the house. Unlisted number. She said vampires were interested in Jamie.”
She, Nick had said. The caller was female. Had it been Celina? Amber? Some other vamp who had it in for the Brecks, or who was itching to stir up trouble for Cadogan House?
”Today,” Nick continued, ”I got an e-mail. It had specifics-details about exactly how you planned to harm my brother.”
Ethan frowned, clearly confused. ”And why do we purportedly want to hurt Jamie?”
”The message didn't say,” Nick answered, but the words were a little too quickly spoken to ring true.
Maybe he knew about Jamie's story; maybe there was another reason he thought Jamie might be a target. And that wasn't the only problem with his evidence.
”How do you know the e-mail was from a Cadogan vamp?” I asked. ”How do you know it wasn't just a hoax?”
”Give me a little credit, Merit. They gave me information to verify.”
Ethan and I exchanged a glance. ”What information?” he asked, caution in his tone.
Nick looked away, wet his lips, then looked up at me again. There was coldness in his eyes.
”There were details about you,” he said, then turned that frigid gaze on Ethan. ”And you. Together.”
My cheeks flushed crimson. Ethan, apparently much less worried, made a soft, sardonic sound. ”Rest a.s.sured, Nicholas, we have no plans to harm your brother. And I can most definitely a.s.sure you that you were not speaking with a Cadogan vampire. There is no 'together' where Merit and I are concerned.”
Not that he hadn't considered it, I thought, remembering our dance.
”Oh?” Nick asked, as if feigning surprise. ”Then you didn't share a moment in the library Friday night?”
He turned his gaze to me. ”I was told that you pa.s.sed along the story of our meeting in the garden. That you informed your Master that I was 'com ing for you.' ”
This time, my cheeks paled. While his implication was wrong-our ”moment” in the library had been completely platonic-the gossip part was true enough. Someone had been in the library. Had overheard our conversation. Someone was playing us.
And more importantly, someone was betraying Ethan. Again.I didn't want to, but I made myself turn and check Ethan's expression. He stood frozen there beside me, jaw clenched, unmitigated fury on his face.
”We did not,” he bit out, ”nor have we ever issued a threat against Jamie or any other member of your family. That's not the way my House operates. If such a message was sent to you, it was not sent from a Cadogan vampire, and certainly not with my approval. If someone in my House has informed you otherwise, they are . . .sorely . . . mistaken.”
Despite the gravity in Ethan's tone, Nick's responding shrug was careless. ”I'm sorry, Sullivan. But that's not good enough.”
Ethan's brows lifted. ”Not good enough?”
”We're only asking you not to jump to conclusions,” I told Nicholas. ”That's all.”
”Not jump to conclusions?” Nick took steps, closing the distance between us. I had to steel myself not to step back.
”How naive are you, Merit? Or is that some kind of vampire denial talking?”
”Nicholas,” Papa Breck said, but Nick shook his head.
”No,” he spat out. ”I told you that if you tried to harm him, I would come after you with everything I had.
I will not stand by while vampires destroy my family, Merit.”