Hard Bitten - By Chloe Neill Page 0,2

attack," I said.

"Tate called. He asked for a meeting with the two of us."

This time, I was the one who raised my eyebrows. Seth Tate, Chicago's second-term mayor, generally avoided mingling with the city's three Master vampires.

"What does he want to meet about?"

"This, I assume," he said, gesturing toward the protesters.

"Do you think he wants to meet with me because he and my father are friends, or because my grandfather works for him?"

"That, or because the mayor may, in fact, be smitten with you."

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't stop the warm blush that rose on my cheeks. "He isn't smitten with me. He just likes being reelected."

"He's smitten, not that I can't understand the emotion. And he hasn't even seen you fight yet."

Ethan's voice was sweet. Hopeful.

Hard to ignore.

For weeks he'd been this attentive, this flattering.

That was not to say he didn't have his moments of snark. He was still Ethan, after all, still a Master vampire with a Houseful of Novitiates who didn't always please him, and to add insult to injury, he was nearing the end of a months-long rehab of that House. Construction didn't always go quickly in Chicago, and it moved even more slowly when the subject of the construction was a three-story den of vampires.

An architectural gem of a den, sure, but still a den of night-walking bloodsuckers, blah blah blah. Our human suppliers were often reticent to help, and that didn't exactly thrill Ethan.

The construction notwithstanding, Ethan was doing all the right things, making all the right moves. Problem was, he'd shaken my trust. I hoped to find my own happily ever after, but I wasn't yet prepared to trust that this particular Prince Charming was ready to ride off into the sunset. Two months later, the hurt - and humiliation - was still too real, the wound too raw.

I wasn't na?ve enough to deny what was between me and Ethan, or the possibility that fate would bring us together again. After all, Gabriel Keene, the head of the North American Central Pack, had somehow shared with me a vision about a pair of green eyes that looked like Ethan's . . . but weren't. (I know. "What the hell?" had been my reaction, too.)

I wanted to believe him. Just like every other girl in America, I'd read the books and seen the movies in which the boy realizes he made a horrible decision . . . and comes back again. I wanted to believe that Ethan mourned the loss of me, that his regret was real, and that his promises were earnest. But this wasn't a game. And as Mallory had pointed out, wouldn't it have been better if he'd wanted me from the beginning?

In the meantime, while I weighed the new Ethan against the old Ethan, I played the dutiful Sentinel. Keeping things professional gave me the space and boundaries I needed . . . and it had the added benefit of irritating him. Immature? Sure.

But who didn't take the opportunity to tweak their boss when they had the chance?

Besides, most vampires were members of one House or another, and I was immortal. I couldn't exactly sidestep working with Ethan without damning myself to an eternity spent as an outcast. That meant I had to make the best of the situation.

Avoiding the intimacy in his voice, I smiled politely at him. "Hopefully he won't need to see me fight. If I'm brawling in front of the mayor, things have definitely gone south. When do we leave?"

Ethan was quiet long enough that I looked over at him, saw the earnestness in his expression. It plucked my heartstrings to see him look so decided about me. But whatever fate might have in store for us down the road, I wasn't taking that exit today.

"Sentinel."

There was gentle reprobation in his voice, but I was sticking to my plan. "Yes, Liege?"

"Be stubborn if you wish to, if you need to, but we know how this will end."

I kept my face blank. "It will end as it always does - with your being Master and my being Sentinel."

The reminder of our positions must have done it. As abruptly as he'd turned on the charm, Ethan turned it off again. "Be downstairs in twenty minutes. Wear your suit." And then he was gone, striding purposefully up the stairs and back into Cadogan House.

I swore quietly. That boy was going to be the death of me.
Chapter Two
A FISTFUL OF VAMPIRES

Leaving Cadogan House used to be a bit of