Drink Deep - Chloe Neill [7]
“Better us than Grey House,” I mused. “At least we have other sources.”
“Not this time,” Juliet said. “He’s also banned drinking.”
That idea was equally preposterous—but for a different reason. “Ethan made that rule,” I protested. “And Malik confirmed it. Frank doesn’t have the power—”
But Juliet cut me off with a shrug. “It’s part of his evaluation, he says. A test to see how well we handle our hunger.”
“He’s setting us up for failure,” I quietly said, looking over the crowd of vamps, now chattering nervously. “There’s no way we’ll make it through a receivership, two months after losing our Master and with protestors at the gates, without someone freaking out from lack of blood.” I looked back at her. “He’ll use that as an excuse to take over the House, or close it altogether.”
“Quite possibly. Has he scheduled your interview yet?”
Not surprisingly, Frank had required each vamp to participate in a private interview. From what I’d heard, the interviews were fairly standard “justify your existence” deals. I was one of the few vamps he hadn’t yet spoken to. Not that I was bummed, but each day that passed without an interview made me that much more suspicious.
“Still nothing,” I told her.
“Maybe it’s a show of respect or something. Trying to respect Ethan’s memory by not interviewing you first?”
“I doubt our relationship would sway the GP’s evaluation of the House. Maybe it’s strategic—he’s holding out so I anticipate the conversation, worry about it.” I held up my dinner. “At least I have comfort food.”
“And speaking of which, it’s a good thing you brought that in.”
“Why?”
“The third rule: Frank has banned convenience food in the kitchens.”
Strike three for Frank. “What’s his rationale for that one?”
“It’s unhealthy, overly processed, and expensive, he says. It’s all apples and cabbage and granola in there right now.”
Because I’m a vampire with an appetite, that almost hurt more than anything else Frank had done.
Juliet checked her watch. “Well, I should get back to it. You heading upstairs to eat?”
“Luc and Malik wanted to talk, and I promised I’d bring grub. What are you up to?”
She gestured toward the stairs that led to the House’s basement level, where the Ops Room was located. “Just finished a shift on the monitors.” She meant the closed-caption televisions that captured security footage from the House grounds.
“Anything newsworthy?”
She rolled her eyes. “People hate us, blah blah blah, wish we’d go straight to hell, or maybe Wisconsin, since it’s closer, blah blah blah.”
“Same old, same old?”
“Pretty much. If Celina thought outing vampires was going to usher in a happy vampire fairy tale, she was sorely mistaken.”
“Celina was mistaken on a number of fronts,” I said.
“That is true,” she softly said, and I caught the hint of pity in her voice. But pity was as exhausting to bear as grief, so I changed the subject.
“Any sign of McKetrick?” I asked. McKetrick, first name unknown, was a military type who’d decided vampires were the republic’s new enemy. He had black gear, combat weapons, and a strong desire to clean us all out of the city. He’d harangued Ethan and me one evening and promised we’d be seeing more of him. There’d been a couple of sightings since then, and I’d gotten a few more details about his military background from Catcher—think questionable tactics and chain of command issues—but if he had a master plan for vampirocide, he hadn’t yet made it clear.
I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better, or worse.
“Not even a ruffle.” She tilted her head to the side. “What were you up to outside?”
“Out. Working out, I mean.” I stumbled a little on the explanation, as I hadn’t yet confessed to the guards that I’d been working with Jonah. Our time together had been triggered by our Red Guard connection, and that secret wasn’t mine to tell, so I’d avoided the subject of Jonah altogether.
One more lie woven into the already tangled web.
“It’s always good to stay in shape,” Juliet said with a wink.
A wink that suggested I hadn’t been so sneaky after all.
“Well,