“Of his as well,” Ethan said, rubbing his temples with his free hand.
“We could call Nicole,” Malik said wryly, and Ethan barked a laugh.
“To thank her for sending him our way?”
“You think she knew?” I asked.
“I think he’s canny enough to have visited her first, confirmed he had an ally, before coming here.”
“She could have arranged to have the note left in our apartment while she was here for the Testing,” I guessed.
Ethan nodded, and then his eyes narrowed. He glanced between me, Luc, and Malik. “If she knew he was alive, and if she knew it during the Testing . . .”
“Is he the reason she abolished the GP and created the AAM?” Malik finished, crossing his arms over his chest.
Luc sat on the arm of the chair across from us. “And how much of her maneuvering was just to give Balthasar a second chance?”
Ethan sighed. “We all knew she had ulterior motives—that she didn’t propose the AAM because she’s magnanimous.”
“Did she say anything about it last week?” Malik asked.
“No,” Ethan said. The country’s Masters had met in Atlanta, Nicole’s home, for the AAM’s first meeting and to discuss the organization’s building blocks: its location, its procedures, its decision-making apparatus, its finances, the possibility of holding a formal ceremony to celebrate the organization’s creation. I’d missed that particular trip—Luc had accompanied Ethan as his body man. From the riveting discussions of parliamentary procedure I’d had with Ethan afterward, I hadn’t missed much.
“The meeting was just as you’d expect a meeting of twelve egotistical and strategy-motivated vampires to be. If she’s trying to maneuver us into some position to support Balthasar, she didn’t show her hand.”
“Next planning meeting is next week,” Luc said. “Maybe this is step one.”
“I don’t know if I buy that theory,” I said, looking between them. “To go through Testing, the election, the disbanding of the GP, setting up the AAM—all the work you’ve done in the last few weeks to get the organization up and running—there are easier ways to get power to Balthasar.” I shrugged. “Hell, she could have just supported him as a candidate for Darius’s position.”
“That’s a point,” Luc agreed.
“Maybe you should call her,” Malik said. “Acknowledge he is here. Find out what you can. Get it out in the open.”
“That’s what she said,” I murmured, but loud enough for Luc to hear and grin approvingly.
“Nice, Sentinel.”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “You two have clearly been spending too much time together.”
“Two-a-days,” we said simultaneously.
“You train more, you bond more,” Luc said. “It’s part of my trademarked regimen: ‘Luc90X.’”
“That’s not a thing,” Malik said, “and it’s not trademarked. It’s probably a trademark violation.”
“Details.”
“Children,” Ethan said, standing and glancing at his watch. “Dawn is coming soon, and I think we’ve had plenty of excitement for one night.”
“Yes,” Luc said, rising at the obvious signal. “Let that be a lesson to you about attempting to leave the House and have a private life.”
“We’ll keep our relationship purely professional in the future,” I promised, which earned scoffs from all three of them.
“Tell that to the man who defended your honor with French and a blade earlier this evening,” Malik said. He had a valid point.
Reminded of the blade, Ethan walked across the room, plucked it from the wall with a fist, slipped it into a nearby drawer. “Let’s reconvene at dusk to discuss what we’ve learned about Balthasar, what we may need to prepare for.”
“On it, hoss,” Luc said, then glanced at me. “Assuming your ‘purely professional’ schedule allows, you’ve got small blade practice tomorrow.”
Of course I did. Because God forbid I missed a night of Luc90X.
“She’ll see you then,” Ethan assured them. And the second they were gone, his arm was around my waist, and he’d snugged me against the hard line of his body.
Before I could react, his mouth was on mine, firm and possessive, passionate and insistent. He pushed me beyond thinking, into that sweet oblivion where there was only sensation, only the feel and smell and taste of him.
When he pulled back, nipping my lip in a final tease, both of us were breathing heavily.
“Always remember,” he said. “Real lust beats old magic any day.”
There was applause from the doorway. I turned around, found Catcher and Mallory offering a slow clap at the sight of us.
Chapter Four
BOSOM BUDDIES
“What was I saying about lust beating magic?” Ethan asked quietly, and I patted his chest.
“Down, boy,” I said, and waved them in.
“We heard you’ve had an evening,” Catcher said. “Malik called Chuck, gave him a heads-up. We were closer to the House, so we stopped by to check in on things. Balthasar, eh?”
“So it seems.”
“Magic?”
“As you’d expect,” Ethan said, and slid his gaze to me. “And glamour that managed to penetrate Merit’s defenses.”
Or destroy them, I feared. And I didn’t like the thought of Balthasar penetrating anything of mine, psychic or otherwise.
Catcher looked at me, head tilted and brow furrowed, as if I were a puzzle to decipher. “He changed her immunity?”
“Or slipped past it, yes,” Ethan said.
I waved a hand. “Still in the room.” But they were too involved in their analysis to care. Mallory walked over, rolled her eyes at their single-mindedness. She handed me a picnic basket.
“Thought we’d return this,” she said. “Margot knocked it out of the park, as always.”
I nodded, put the basket on Ethan’s desk. “She tends to do that.” I thought of the announcement they’d wanted to make. “Are you guys okay? Did you want to talk about something?”
She looked back at Catcher, opened her mouth as if to answer, but quickly closed it again. “We’re good. We’ll talk about it later. Really,” she added. “It’s no big deal. But this is.” Concern crossed her face. “You okay about this Balthasar thing?”