Drink Deep - Chloe Neill [32]
He wasn’t unattractive, but his features were aristocratically pinched, like being born into wealth had sharpened them. His brown hair was short and carefully combed. He wore khakis and a tucked-in white dress shirt. An expensive gold watch was wrapped around his right wrist. I guessed if I peeked under the table I’d find brown loafers with tassels on the top.
“Come in,” Frank said. “Have a seat.”
I did as I was told, taking the chair across from him. He didn’t waste any time.
“You left the House this evening under order of the Captain of the Guards to investigate the”—he paused to look down at a sheet of paper on the table—“incident of Lake Michigan turning black?”
“Yes,” I said. “Out of concern humans would automatically blame the city’s supernatural populations.”
He just made a vague sound that indicated he found the notion ridiculous. “I understand Darius previously ordered you not to involve yourself in city affairs.”
“It’s not just a city affair if vampires are blamed,” I pointed out. “And that dictate was issued before we lost another guard. The guard corps is short-staffed, and I’m next in line to help out.”
He made that sound again. “Merit, as you know, I’ve been tasked by the GP to evaluate the stability and sanctity of the House, both in terms of its financial accounting and its staff. In doing so, I’m interviewing every member of the House to better understand their roles.” He shuffled through a few papers, then pulled out a document to which a picture of me had been clipped.
He scanned it for a moment, then placed it back on the table and linked his fingers together on the tabletop.
“You stand Sentinel,” he said. His voice carried the distinct impression of disapproval.
“I do.”
“And you became a vampire in April of this year?”
“Yes.” I saw no reason to elaborate.
“Mmm,” he said. “And you were appointed Sentinel at your Commendation, after you’d been a vampire for a matter of, what, essentially a week?”
“Approximately.”
“Were you in the armed services before you became Sentinel?”
He was asking questions to which he undoubtedly knew the answer. He wasn’t confused about what I’d done prior to becoming Sentinel; he was gathering evidence of Ethan’s mismanagement. Unfortunately, I couldn’t figure out a way around the game.
“I was not,” I answered. “I was a graduate student working on my doctoral degree in English literature.”
He frowned, feigning confusion. “But you serve as Sentinel—a warrior for the House. A protector. Surely Ethan would have filled the position with someone trained and ready to take on the challenge?” Frank tilted his head, his brow still furrowed, but a gleam of “Gotcha!” in his eyes.
And now it was time to elaborate . . . and throw back this farce he was perpetrating.
“I’m sure you’ve seen my file. I’m sure you know I’m rated a Very Strong Phys, a Strong Strat, and a Strong Psych because I can resist glamour. I was strong on the day I was made a vampire, and I’ve only become stronger since then. I’ve been trained with a katana, I have political and financial connections throughout this city, and I’m strong enough to have bested Ethan in training. I’m well educated and take seriously the oaths I gave to this House. What else would you have me do?”
“You aren’t an infantryman. You aren’t trained in combat.”
“I’m the Sentinel of the House, charged with protecting the House as an entity. I am not captain of the House guards, and it’s not my job to create military strategy. I fight only as a last resort, when all other options have failed. I find that people too willing to jump into the fray usually have an ulterior motive for doing so.”
Frank sat back in Ethan’s chair, brow pinched as he considered his next tack. “Your ties to Mayor Tate did nothing to help this House.”
“Mayor Tate was intent on using vampires for his own purposes. He created an empire of illegal drugs using the imprimatur of his office. There was nothing I could have done to stop that.