"So the GP is a protection racket," I said.
"A year ago," Ethan said, "I'd have said that proposition is ridiculous. Now I fear it's not far off the mark. But they aren't here, and we haven't been Decertified yet. So for now, let us eat, drink, and be merry."
"For tomorrow we . . . ?" Noah asked.
Ethan smiled slyly. "We'll see." He glanced across the crowd at someone I couldn't see, and nodded before looking back at us. "If you'll excuse me, I'm being paged from afar. Be nice to our new allies, Sentinel."
"Har, har," I muttered, enjoying the view as he walked away.
"You seem smitten," Noah said.
My cheeks warmed. "I am, as it turns out. Although God knows how that happened."
"He's not the type I would have imagined you with."
"Me, either, and not just because he's fanged." I'd initially planned to avoid dating vampires; that plan hadn't succeeded. "But whatever the reason, we work. We complement each other. I can't explain it, as much as I like to try."
"Connections like that are a rare and fortunate thing," Noah said, with enough bleakness in his voice that I thought he had experience with that rarity.
"Jonah indicates your relationship with Ethan won't affect your RG involvement?" He asked the question casually, although it seemed unlikely he'd have asked at all if he'd actually believed Jonah's answer.
Margot walked toward us with a tray of delicate crystal glasses shimmering with golden champagne.
"Drink?" she asked.
Nodding, I pulled one from the tray and took a hearty sip. Noah did the same.
"I made a commitment," I promised when she was out of earshot again. "And I intend to keep it."
"See that you do," Noah said. His tone was just mild enough that I wasn't sure whether he was confirming my allegiance - or questioning it.
* * *
When dinner was served, I joined Lindsey at a table beneath the tent.
She was blond and fit, and incredibly bright. She also had a great sense of fashion, a piercing sense of humor, and a strong streak of loyalty, which had nearly tanked her burgeoning relationship with Luc. She'd been afraid a relationship would ruin their friendship, but they seemed to be doing okay.
Across from us at the table were two Rogue vampires.
Alan, who wore a button-down plaid shirt, looked as happily average as they came. He explained that he worked in insurance; I didn't entirely understand his job, but it seemed to involve a lot of math and, fortunately, allowed him to work at night.
Beth, who dressed with Gothic flare, was a tattoo artist with a shop in Wrigleyville and a part-time burlesque dancer. She had dark, wavy hair and a curvy figure with a nipped-in waist, and she snorted a little bit when she laughed, which she did a lot.
Alan and Beth had recently met on an Internet dating site for Chicago vamps, and my mixer was their very first outing together. I took an obscene amount of pride in that, even though their finding each other had nothing to do with me.
Alan put down the bottle of root beer he'd been drinking. "You know, the GP may call you Rogues, but there's still a big difference between you and us."
"How do you mean?" Lindsey asked.
"You're Housed," Alan said. "Even if you aren't in the GP, you're still part of a unit. You've agreed to live and work together, to hang out together. It's basically a vampire fraternity, right?"
I actually hadn't agreed to live and work in Cadogan House - I'd been attacked by a Rogue vampire and left for dead. Ethan had made me a vampire to save my life. Membership in Cadogan House had been the side benefit. Or cost, depending on your perspective.
"Alan," Beth scolded, but he shrugged off the concern.
"I'm not trying to be rude," he said. "I'm just being honest. That's the perception of a lot of Rogues - that you think you're in a club and that makes you better than everyone else."
That thought hadn't even occurred to me, and I doubted it had occurred to Lindsey, either. We weren't the elitist type. If anything, Cadogan was the least elitist House in Chicago. Navarre, in my humble opinion, was snootier, and the vampires of Grey House, which was all about athletics, had a built-in tendency to hang together.
On the other hand, he was right that we were part of a club. There were three hundred vampires associated with Cadogan House. Nearly one hundred of us lived together in Cadogan House in our dormlike rooms, ate together, worked out together, and sometimes worked together. We had positions and titles, rulebooks, and T-shirts and medals that proclaimed our membership to the world.
"We kind of are a fraternity," I said. "That makes us loyal to each other, and willing to work for the House's good. But I don't know anyone in the House who thinks we're better than anyone."
"Well, I think you seem cool," Beth said.
"She is cool," Lindsey said. "For a nerd."
Beth and Alan also seemed cool, and they certainly didn't seem miserable just because they lived outside the Houses.
Beth smiled. "And it's not that we think anything's wrong with living in a House. We just don't do it."
The clink of metal against glass brought our attention to Ethan, who stood nearby, a champagne flute in one hand and a fork in the other.
"If I could have your attention," he said, placing the fork on a nearby table while the crowd quieted. "I'd like to take this opportunity to welcome the unaffiliated vampires of this city to Cadogan House. I hope you've felt our door was open to you, and I certainly hope that you'll feel that way after our status changes. It is true that we're a House. But we are now, have always been, and will continue to be a collective of vampires. We have chosen to come together just as you have chosen to stand as proud individual vampires, and we respect your decisions to do so. We are searching for a new way to live and thrive as vampires." He smiled rakishly. "We may come to you for advice."
There were a few appreciative chuckles in the crowd, and a few suspicious grunts. It was becoming clear that the city's Rogues weren't just going to welcome us with open arms; we'd have to prove our worth to them just as we had to the GP. Maybe, unlike the GP, the Rogues would actually listen.
Ethan looked down at the ground for a moment, his forehead wrinkling in the center. That was a sign he was worried, and when he looked up across the crowd again, the concern in his eyes was clear.
"These are strange times," he said. "We have been tested, as this city has been tested. Recent events have been difficult for vampires and Chicago, and they may become more so. Other supernaturals' announcements of their existence, while taking some of the spotlight off vampires, have made humans increasingly nervous about our presence. Tate's antics did nothing to improve the humans' esteem; nor has the new mayor offered any help."