Extraits

- Tu m'as promis l'éternité, Sentinelle, et j'ai bien l'intention d'en profiter.

Il se releva, prit ma main et la posa sur son cœur.

- Il bat pour toi, pour l'éternité.

Chapitre 16

“We’re all in one piece,” Catcher said. “I’m not suggesting you’re cowards if you don’t try again, but . . .”

“But you’re subtly implying it,” Ethan said.

Catcher grinned. “This is magic, friends. It’s a dangerous game. Maybe vampires can’t hack it.”

Ethan’s eyes blazed silver. “Is that a dare?”

“If that’s what it takes.” Catcher looked at me. “We have to try something. This is currently the only thing we know to try.”

I couldn’t argue with that logic, so I looked at Mallory. She’d pulled a small kraft-paper notebook from her bag, was thumbing through it. “Just give me a minute.”

I narrowed my gaze at Catcher. “Beer and pizza after this, and you’re paying.”

His lips curved into a smirk. “You’re a cheap date.”

“That is one of her finer qualities,” said my husband.

J’allais me marier dans quelques heures.

Moi. J’allais me marier. Dans quelques heures.

— Merit, tu es toute pâle, fit remarquer Amit d’un ton enjoué.

Je déglutis, le considérai, puis reportai mon attention sur Ethan.

— Je me sens comme en troisième, avant mon exposé d’histoire.

— Tu as survécu à la troisième, du moins je le suppose, vu que tu as un master, plaisanta Ethan. Plus précisément un master et demi. J’imagine que Stanford et l’université de Chicago accorderaient de l’importance à ce genre de détail.

Je soufflai, les lèvres pincées.

— Tout va bien se passer, tentai-je de me rassurer.

Je m’agrippai néanmoins au revers de la veste d’Ethan et glapis :

— Et si ma mère avait prévu des colombes ? Et si le DJ ne passait que « la danse des canards » ? Si le discours d’Amit faisait un flop ?

Je savais que la cérémonie du mariage était autant destinée aux amis et à la famille qu'aux mariés. Le spectacle était pour eux ; les vœux, une autre forme de serment, pour nous.

Mais 'expression d'Ethan lorsqu'il me vit pour la première fois, elle n'était que pour moi.

- Tu es née Caroline et es devenue Merit. Ce que je te demande, c'est ton amour et ta fidélité. (Il m'adressa un sourire taquin.) Ton identité, elle, n'appartient qu'à toi.

He leaned down and moved his mouth over mine, a whisper of a kiss. “I love you.”

“I can tell,” I said with a grin. And then yelped when he pinched me.

“I love you, too, you tyrant.”

Ethan snorted, took my hand. “That’s Darth Sullivan to you, Duchess.”

I just shook my head.

Cadogan House was old, stately, and luxurious, a three-story stone house on a rolling bit of lawn in Chicago’s Hyde Park. It was surrounded by an imposing fence meant to keep our enemies at bay, guarded by men and women who risked their lives to keep the House safe from attack. Tonight, as summer gave way to fall and a cool breeze spilled across the quiet dark, there was peace.

Katana at my side, I finished my patrol of the expansive grounds, nodded at the guard at the gate, and jogged up the stairs to the glowing portico. One final look, one last glance to ensure quiet in the realm, and then I opened the door … and walked back into chaos.

Cadogan House’s pretty foyer—hardwood floors, pedestal table of richly-scented flowers, gleaming chandelier—was crowded with people and noise. A vampire manned the front desk, and three others—Supplicants seeking time with Ethan Sullivan, Master of the House—waited in a bench along one side. Vampires carried boxes toward the basement stairs for the waiting truck, watched with an eagle eye by Helen, the House’s den mother.

A vampire with dark skin and shaved head rounded the corner into the foyer. This was Malik, Ethan’s Second in command. He wore a slim-cut dark suit—the official Cadogan House uniform—his skin contrasting vividly against the crisp white shirt and pale green of his eyes. He tracked the room, found me, and walked my way.

“Busy night,” he said.

“It is.”

A hush fell over the room, all talk and activity coming to a stop as Cadogan House’s Master stepped into the room. Every eye in the place turned to him, including mine.

That we’d known each other for a year didn’t make the sight of him any less thrilling. To the contrary—that he was mine, and I was most assuredly his, made the impact even more forceful.

He was tall and lean, the body of a man who’d once been a soldier. Even now, as a leader of vampires, he’d kept the same chiseled physique. His hair was golden-blond and shoulder length, his eyes the green of new emeralds. His jaw was square, his nose straight, his lips usually either quirked in a wicked grin, or pulled into a serious line—the expression of a Master with weight on his shoulders.

He also wore the Cadogan House uniform—a trim black suit that fitted him like the expensive, bespoke garment it probably was. He wore a white buttondown beneath, the top button unclasped to show the gleaming silver teardrop of the Cadogan medal that hung at his throat. It was a mark of solidarity, of unity, among the vampires of Cadogan House. And he wore it as well as everything else.

Beside him was a small woman with tan skin and dark hair. She was vampire, at least based on the invisible buzz of magic around her. And given the tightness around her eyes, she was a vampire with worries.

“We’ll be in touch,” Ethan promised, and she knotted her fingers together, inclined her head at him.

“Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome,” he said, and we all watched her head for the door.

But when I looked back at Ethan, his gaze was fixed on me.

Sentinel, he said through our telepathic connection, taking in the leather and steel of my ensemble. I like the look of you.

- Tu es née Caroline et es devenue Merit. Ce que je te demande, c'est ton amour et ta fidélité. (Il m'adressa un sourire taquin.) Ton identité, elle, n'appartient qu'à toi.

- Pour l'éternité, dit-il, répétant notre nouveau mantra, notre philtre d'amour.

- Pour l'éternité, affirmai-je avant de céder au flot de sensations qui m'emportait.