We drove to Hyde Park, where the pale stone of Cadogan House emerged from darkness. It was a large, three-story mansion with features from another time - an arched entrance, a turret, and a widow's walk around the roof. The grounds were even larger than the House and offered a bit of the gated outdoors for itchy vampires who needed fresh air and space from vampire drama.
The sidewalk in front of the House was peppered with protestors; they'd become a fixture over the past few months, and Malory's recent shenanigans certainly hadn't helped. They were citizens of al ages and genders and ethnicities, but the hatred in their hand-painted signs was similar: GO HOME, VAMPS. NO VAMPS IN ILLINOIS. WINDY CITY, NOT VAMPIRE CITY. What they lacked in creativity, they made up in good old-fashioned discrimination.
They sat in lawn chairs, bundled up against the cold, many eating dinners like they'd puled up to a drive-in movie instead of a vampire hate fest.
Normaly, I'd have squeezed my car into a spot on the street and faced them al down as I strode into the House, but Ethan had a coveted basement parking spot. No snow, no parking permits, no dibs. Just a few steps to the stairs, and a few stairs to the lush first floor...and a few backward glances from a Master vampire clearly smitten with his new purchase.
"She'l probably stil be here when you come back," I reminded him.
He huffed but stil gave the sedan one last look. "She is a beauty."
"She is a car," Paige reminded him.
"And he is a man," I said, pointing her toward the door.
"Let's not dig too deeply into it."
We took the stairs, and I couldn't fight the relief of feeling like I was home again. Which was pretty weird, since I was returning to a vampire frat house I hadn't even lived in for a year.
Tonight, the House smeled like cinnamon, and much to my surprise, the interior had been decorated for the holidays. Malik had been busy while we were gone. Fragrant garland hung from doorways, mantels, and the railing of the wooden staircase that led upstairs. Sugared fruit and sparkling candleholders stood on tables and bookcases, and silver bowls of old-fashioned ribbon candy sat on side tables.
It would be a Cadogan House Christmas - and it made a nice change from the swaths of black fabric that had wrapped the House while we were in mourning. The House deserved it.
Grieving was exhausting, and two months of mourning took a physical and emotional tol.
A few of the House's ninety or so live-in vampires, al dressed in traditional black, were busy in the foyer. They nodded and waved as we passed, which didn't make me nearly as uncomfortable as it once would have. I'd become part of the House, of the family of Novitiates who lived there.
"Ladies, I'm going to leave you here," Ethan said. "I believe I could use a bit of a cleanup myself." He gestured toward the foyer, where Helen, the House's new vampire liaison, waited.
"Paige, Helen wil get you a room key and some basic necessities. Merit, drop by later so we can talk about next steps."
I nodded and did my duty, escorting Paige to meet Helen.
"Merit," Helen said, "lovely to see you again. And you must be Paige."
She probably wasn't thriled to see me again, since we hadn't exactly hit it off the first time we'd met, but she was al politeness today. Helen handed Paige a laminated Cadogan House guest pass on a lanyard and a key on a Cadogan House key ring.
We were al about the branding.
"You'l be staying in the guest suite," Helen said, then smiled at me. "Perhaps you could show her the way?"
"Of course. Where is it?"
"Third floor, three doors down from Ethan's. There's a star on the door."
I nodded. "I'l find it."
Helen looked at Paige. "There are some clothes upstairs and, as Ethan noted, 'necessities' for you until you have a chance to get your own things."
Paige looked relieved. "I don't even have a toothbrush. Thank you."
"Of course." With that, Helen smiled and marched back through the House.
We walked upstairs to the third floor and then down the quiet halway past half the House's bedrooms; the rest were on the second floor. Each of the ninety-ish vampires who lived in the House (of three hundred total House members) had his or her own room. They were al smal and dormlike: hardwood floors, simple furniture, smal bathroom. Each room was just large enough to afford the vampire a place to sleep and a little privacy at the end of the night.
Near the end of the long halway, three doors down from Ethan's, was the star-marked guest room, which looked from the outside like the dressing room of a television guest host.
"This must be it," I said.
Paige unlocked the door and stepped inside. I also peeked inside to get a look. It was a nice suite - a little bigger than our dorm rooms, but a lot smaler than Ethan's three-room apartment. The decor was neutral, like a midrange business-class hotel. This was definitely a place for guests - to keep them comfy for a little while, but not so comfy that they overstayed their welcome.
Paige put her books on the bed and glanced back at me. "I'm going to clean up. And I might rest a little bit. I'm pretty exhausted, and I have a lot of Order business in front of me."
"Of course. When Gabriel cals, I'd like to go see Malory. I can let you know."
"That would be great. I'l want to get a sense of where she is so I can tel the Order."
I nodded. "If you need anything before then, feel free to cal Helen."
We said polite good-byes, and I closed the door behind me and nearly ran back to the stairs, where hot-water oblivion awaited. I wanted a long, steamy, environmentaly irresponsible shower that wrinkled my skin and fogged the bathroom mirror.
My room was on the second floor of the House. One floor up from the main, one floor down from Ethan's apartments. In another time, I'd appreciated having space between us.
A note was tacked to the buletin board on the front of my door. It was from Lindsey, my best girlfriend in the House.
Girl! I hope you did lots of nasty with Our Dear Sullivan and made us all proud. Please bring him back in a good mood. And eager to give us all raises. We need shoes. Hearts, Lindsey.
Unfortunately, there was decidedly no "nasty," and I doubted Ethan was in a better mood - not when he was returning to political spite and double the number of enemies he'd had when he left.
When the door was locked behind me, I peeled off my leather jacket and filthy clothes and climbed into the shower.
It was even better than I'd imagined. I scrubbed the soot from my face and let the heat push the remaining pain from my presumptively broken rib and twisted ankle and the green-purple bruise on my arm where Ethan had grabbed me. There was no doubt they were healing, but the residual aches hadn't yet gone away.