Extraits

Chapitre 16

Mallory shook her head. “You’ve already been married to Duchess too long.” Then she slapped a hand over her mouth, let out a mumbled swear.

It took me a moment to cue in to what she’d said—to the fact that she’d just given up his nickname for me. I glanced at Ethan, eyebrow arched in perfect imitation of his own favorite quirk. “Duchess? That’s what you call me?”

His smile was broad and amused. “Darth Sullivan,” he reminded me.

“That particular shoe fit,” I reminded him.

“And ‘Duchess’ doesn’t?”

“I’m not the princessy type.”

“No, you aren’t. But that’s not how you earned the name. Recall that on our first meeting you marched into my House, with your pale skin and dark hair, and those hauntingly pale eyes—eyes that were filled with so much pain and anger. You looked like the duchess of some strange and beautiful land. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

I just stared at him. He’d given me compliments before, and obviously I knew that he loved me. But I’d never heard the story of our first meeting in quite the same way.

“And then she challenged you to a duel,” Mallory said to him.

“She did. She was very imperious.”

Mallory nodded. “And you were like, ‘All right, girl. Let’s go. Let’s see what you’ve got.’”

I pointed at Mallory. “You aren’t helping.”

“I disagree, but . . .” She mimed zipping up her lips.

“And she’s right,” Ethan said. “That’s fairly close to my recollection.”

“Damn, Sullivan,” Catcher said as I offered the bottle back to him. He declined, so I recorked it, set it aside. “Merit’s got that Angry Master look down pat. You should probably be careful using that particular moniker.”

Ethan grinned at me. “He has a point, Duchess. You are good at it.”

I growled. Maybe I needed to challenge him more often, I thought. Just to keep him in line.

Ethan leaned over, pressed a kiss to my lips. “If it helps, you became Sentinel very, very quickly.”

I kept my gaze narrowed. “Does the entire House know about this?”

There was amusement in his eyes. “Fewer than those who know about ‘Darth Sullivan.’”

“Touché,” I said after a moment.

Extrait Chapitre 10

“Is anyone hungry?” he asked.

“I’ve heard the hot dog truck is pretty good,” Catcher said.

“I’m starving,” I said, to absolutely no one’s surprise. “But I don’t have any cash.” I rarely carried anything other than my ID and transit card. I glanced at Ethan. “At the risk of sounding anachronistically wifely, can you pay?”

“I can spare some money for you,” Ethan said. “Probably. How hungry are you, exactly?”

“You’re hilarious,” I said, but held his hand as we dashed between cars to the other side of the street.

Extrait Chapitre 10

-What is a “Funyun”?

-The child of an onion ring and a pork rind. You wouldn’t like them.

-Which means you adore them, he said.

-I really do.

Which was why I’d settled on the “Garbage Dog.”

-You should stick to Chicago style, I told Ethan. That’s your favorite.

He glanced at me.

-A year of knowing me, and you’ve already figured me out? Am I so predictable, Sentinel?

-That’s Mrs. Sentinel to you. And yeah, I have a pretty good sense of you.

Good enough that I could have penned the Novitiate’s Guide to Ethan Sullivan, if I’d had the time.

-You enjoy being in charge, fine china, food served on fine china, bespoke suits, twenty-year-old Scotch, and, for reasons I don’t understand, Doctor Who.

He smiled as the line shuffled forward.

-He’s a Time Lord. I can relate.

I just shook my head. Ethan had enough honorifics, and certainly didn’t need to add “Time Lord” to the list.

When we reached the window, we were greeted by a man with tan skin and dark hair, and broad shoulders beneath his SPOTTED DOGS T-shirt. “What can I get ya?”

“Chicago Dog,” Ethan said.

“And for the lady?”

“Garbage Dog,” I said.

Ethan gave me a sidelong glance. “And?”

“And . . . fries. And onion rings, too, if we’re already throwing stuff in a fry basket.”

The man winked. “I like a woman with an appetite.”

Probably not my particular appetite, given last night’s activities, but whatever. “And a drink.”

“I recommend the chocolate shakes. We make the best in town.”

My gaze narrowed, and Ethan just chuckled, pulled bills from his pocket, and offered them to the vendor. “You may have started a conversation you don’t have time to finish.”

“How chocolate is chocolate?” I asked.

But the man was prepared, and his expression was utterly serious. “Our chocolate base includes a syrup made from small-batch beans from a roaster in California, flakes of eighty-five percent dark, and cocoa powder from France.”

“Your terms are acceptable,” I said with equal gravity.

Shaking his head but resigned to his fate, Ethan peeled off another bill, passed it through the window.

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.

Extrait Chapitre 9

A man across the room dusted tables in the sitting area, and a lone and exhausted-looking family waited at the bottom of the stairs, all in matching CARTER FAMILY VACATION T-shirts. The parents’ gazes lifted to watch us, eyes widening as they took in our torn clothes, scraped bodies.

“Sit down,” Ethan quietly said. “I’ll check in.”

I nodded, walked toward the stone fountain against the far wall.

“Big fight over the bridal bouquet,” I said to the parents, with the only hint of a smile that I could manage, and hoped that would be enough to soothe their fears.

Je m’assis avec précaution et examinai les alentours. L’orbe avait disparu, ainsi que le plateau et le romarin, remplacés par un trou aux bords calcinés et fumants au milieu de la couverture.

— Ce n’est pas moi qui dirai à Helen ce qui est arrivé au plat ! m’empressai-je d’annoncer.

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 ?

Elle mit ses mains en coupe et souffla dedans.

— Elle chasse la magie ? murmurai-je.

— Elle se réchauffe les mains, bécasse, répliqua Catcher.

Logique, mais comment étais-je censée le savoir ? Je n’avais pas passé de nombreuses soirées avec Mallory dans des parcs publics à essayer d’entrer en contact avec des esprits.

Quand vous arrivez à court d’arguments, essayez la culpabilisation.

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.