Only if Ethan thinks I'm sleeping with Noah, I thought to myself.
"I'm good," I told Jonah. "Besides, it's not like you could escort me home. You'd blow your cover."
"True. We should probably plan to talk again.
I expect this isn't the last time we'll hear about what went down last night."
"Probably not." My stomach turned over. I wasn't thrilled at the possibility of heading back into another "rave," if that's what we were calling it. I had the skills for war, but not the stomach for it. It was easy to help someone in need, but it would have been nicer if the need didn't exist in the first place.
"I'll talk to the bartenders at Temple Bar, see if they've noticed anything suspicious. And I'll let you know if I find out anything about the phone number. I'll also talk to them about the drugs. They'll want to know if illegal substances are being spread around, and what the effects are."
"Sounds like a plan. Keep me posted."
"I will. Thank you again for the help."
Jonah smiled thinly. "That's what partners are for."
"Don't jump the gun. We aren't partners yet."
With a final, knowing smile, he pulled away from the curb, leaving me on the sidewalk beside my lonely Volvo. What had Mallory said about not wanting to go back to your life again? And what had I told her? Something about accepting the choices you were presented with and getting the nasty stuff done regardless?
I climbed into the Volvo and shut the door behind me, blowing the bangs from my forehead as I started the car.
"Good times," I muttered, as I turned the wheel into traffic. "Good times."
When I was parked in front of the House, I took a moment to get the next part of the investigation in motion. I dialed up Jeff's number.
His answer was enthusiastic. "Merit! We heard some shit went down last night. You okay?"
"Hey, Jeff. I'm good. I'll fill you in later. But for now I need a favor."
"The Jeff abides. What's up?"
I rattled off the phone number Jonah had given me. "It's the number that sent out a text about the party, which may or may not have been a rave. Can you trace it?"
"On it," he said, and I heard the rhythmic clack of keys. "Nothing in the first round," he said after a moment. "Give me a little bit of time.
I'll find it."
"You're a doll."
"You and I both know it. I'll call you."
"Thanks, Jeff."
That done, and the phone tucked away again, I glanced up at the House. Probably best to get the hard part over with. I headed inside - this time through a gauntlet of personal epithets from the protesters - and straight for Ethan's office.
The office door was open, and he sat at his desk, a phone at his ear.
I waited until he put the phone down, and then started in. The words came out in a rush.
"It was in a high-rise in Streeterville, but it wasn't an intimate rave, not like we think of them. This was at least two dozen vamps. A lot of magic, a lot of glamour, and a lot of fighting.
Everyone was on a hair trigger, like they were waiting for an excuse to rumble. There were plenty of humans, and some bloodletting. There's also a possibility they're being drugged to make them susceptible to glamour."
Ethan's eyes shifted to something behind me.
"Sire," he said after a moment, "this is Merit, Sentinel of Cadogan House. Merit, Darius West. Head of the Greenwich Presidium."
Oh, snap.
Chapter Ten
LIKE A BOSS
I froze, realizing for the first time - and much too late - that we weren't alone in the office. I clenched my eyes closed, embarrassment rising on my cheeks. So much for keeping our infiltration of the raves under wraps.
A few seconds later, I finally opened my eyes again, expecting to see fury in Ethan's. Instead, he offered a gently chastising look.
Maybe he had changed.
"I'm so sorry," I mouthed, before turning to Darius. He stood with Malik and Luc, in the office's sitting area in front of leather furniture that hadn't been there on my last visit. Helen did efficient work.
Darius was tall and lean, with a shaved head and blue eyes. His features were sharp and nearly arrogant - straight nose, wide mouth, aristocratic chin marked by a perfect cleft.
"That's a very interesting tale you weave," he said. Darius's accent was clearly English; his diction would have made the queen proud.
"Come have a seat. Ethan, won't you join us, as well?"
I had a sense the request was actually an order, so I took a seat on one of the leather chairs that faced the couch. As Ethan followed me over, Luc and Malik took seats on two end chairs. Ethan took the chair beside me.
Darius sat on the couch, then reached into his pocket and removed a slim, silver case. He popped it open and pulled out a thin black cigarette. It wasn't until he'd lifted it to his mouth that he looked at Ethan for permission.
"Be my guest," Ethan said, but it was clear he wasn't thrilled about Darius smoking in the House.
Cigarette at the corner of his mouth, Darius tucked the case back into his pocket and pulled out a book of matches. He lit one, leaving a sulfurous sting in the air, and touched it to the end of the cigarette before putting it out with a flick of his wrist. He dropped the wasted match into a heavy crystal dish on the coffee table that sat in the middle of the ring of furniture.
He puffed for a moment, then lifted a single eyebrow - I guess we now knew where that tic of Ethan's had come from - and blew a stream of fragrant smoke from the side of his mouth.
"In this political climate," he began, "with these challenges, you sent your Sentinel to a rave?"
"I'm not sure it was a rave," I put in, trying to salvage what I could. "We believed it might be a rave - or something calling itself a rave - but this is on a different scale. Very large, and very violent."
"Raves are always violent," Darius said. "That is the nature of a rave."
I opened my mouth to disagree, but thought better of it. After all, since I'd seen only one rave, he'd definitely know better than I whether the bloodlust was unusual.
"What is atypical," he continued, "is an official House staff member being utilized to infiltrate such things."
"Infiltration was our only option," Ethan said.
Darius's face radiated disbelief, and his tone was deadpan. "Your only option."
Ethan cleared his throat. "Seth Tate informed us that he'd learned of the alleged murder of three humans by vampires. He has a warrant for my arrest in hand, and has threatened to execute that warrant within the week if we don't solve the problem. The opportunity to investigate arose, and we took it."