And he was most definitely not on a boat. In reality, despite the role he'd been givethed beenn by the GP, he was actual y a Novitiate vampire (if a wealthy one) from a House on the east coast. A House, granted, that had been founded by a Cabot ancestor, but which had long since been given over to another Master.
Worse, Frank spoke to us like he was a member of the House, as if his money and connections were a passport to status within Cadogan. Frank playing at House membership was even more ridiculous since his entire purpose was to itemize the ways we weren't fol owing the party line. He was an outsider sent to label us as nonconforming and pound us, square pegs, back into round holes.
Out of concern for the House and respect for the chain of command, Malik had given him the run of the House. He figured Frank was a battle he couldn't win, so he was saving up his political capital for another round.
Whatever the drama, Frank was back in Hyde Park. I was here, in the Loop, with an ersatz vampire partner determined to teach me how to jump from a building without kil ing someone . . . or pushing myself beyond the limits of immortality.
I looked over the edge again, my stomach curdling with it.
I was torn by dueling urges to drop to my knees and crawl back to the stairs and to hurl myself over the edge.
But then he spoke the words most likely to get me moving.
"Dawn wil be here eventual y, Merit."
The myth about vampires and sunlight was true - if I was stil on this roof when the sun rose, I'd burn up into a pile of ash.
"You have two options," Jonah said. "You can trust me and try this, or you can climb back through the roof, go home, and never know what you might be capable of."
He held out his hand. "Trust me," he said. "And keep your knees soft when you land."
It was the certainty in his eyes that did it - the confidence that I could achieve the goal. Once upon a time, I'd have seen suspicion in his gaze. Jonah hadn't been a fan when we'd first met. But circumstances had forced us together, and whatever his initial doubts, he'd apparently learned to trust me.
Now was a good time to make good on that trust.
I held out my hand and death-gripped his fingers in mine.
"Soft knees," I repeated.
"You only have to take a step," he said.
I looked over at him, ready to "Roger" my agreement. But before I could open my mouth, he winked and took a step, pul ing me along with him. Before I could protest, we were airborne.
The first step was bone-chil ingly awful - the sudden sensation of the ground - and our security - disappearing beneath us, a sickening lurch that flipped my stomach and shuddered through my entire body. My heart jumped into my throat, although that at least kept me from screaming out a bubble of fear.
But that's when it got good.
After the nasty initial drop ( really nasty - I can't stress that enough), the rest of the journey wasn't much like fal ing at al . It felt more like hopping down a staircase - if the distance between each tread was a lot longer. I couldn't have been in the air for more than three or four seconds, but time actual y seemed to slow down, the city decelerating around me as I took a step to the ground. I hit the ground in a crouch, one hand on the sidewalk, with no more impact than if I'd simply jumped up.
My transition to vampi heion to re had been scattershot, and my abilities had come "online" slowly enough that it stil surprised me when I was able to do something the first time around. This move would have kil ed me a year ago, but now it left me feeling kind of invigorated. Jumping nine stories to the ground without a broken bone or bruise? That was a home run in my book.
"You've got hops," Jonah said.
I glanced over at him through my bangs. "That was phenomenal."
"I told you it would be."
I stood up and straightened the hem of my leather jacket.
"You did tel me. But the next time you throw me off a building, I wil bring the pain."
He smiled teasingly, which made my heart flutter uncomfortably. "In that case,