Ethan’s relief was palpable. “I think that would be just the thing. You’ve been traveling—would you like to clean up first? Perhaps have blood?”

“In that order,” Amit said with a nod.

Helen appeared behind us in the foyer, hands linked officially in front of her. “Liege?” she said, apparently responding to Ethan’s silent call.

“Arrangements for Amit?” Ethan asked.

“Already prepared.” Helen offered Amit a smile so wide I thought her usually brittle expression might break with it. She never smiled at us like that. Actually, she never smiled like that at all.

“Amit,” she said, walking toward him. She put her hands on his arms, and they exchanged affectionate cheek kisses.

Maybe he glamoured her, I thought sourly.

“Helen,” he said. “You look absolutely lovely.”

“I try,” she said, and slipped her arm into his. “Your room is prepared.”

“I appreciate it,” he said, patting her hand. As they walked toward the stairs, Amit looked back at me. “And I look forward to our next encounter.”

When they disappeared into the second-floor hallway, I looked back at Ethan, found his gaze on mine, awe in his eyes. “You brought him here.”

“I suggested it. Luc actually made the call.”

His brows lifted. “You went above my head, invited the most powerful vampire in the world to our House in the middle of a testing cycle.”

“I did.”

His smile dawned slowly. “That was rather . . . inspired.”

Relief flooded me. I knew seeing Amit would make him feel better. But he was right—it was a pretty risky undertaking, even if I’d gotten Luc (and the rest of the staff) on board.

“Thank you. Considering the drama, I thought giving you another ally to commiserate with might be helpful.”

He moved forward, tipped up my chin, looked into my eyes. His own were dark, like clouded malachite.

“Breakfast,” I said. “That was a good-bye. Just in case.”

His mouth tightened, as if he hadn’t wanted to admit the risk to me. “Just in case,” he quietly said, and wrapped his arms around me. I buried my face in his shirt, let his warmth and magic and scent embrace me. God, but it felt good to be there again.

“I’ll take care, Sentinel.”

You’d better, I thought, but I wasn’t giving up on the possibility of monitoring the testing. I didn’t want to cheat per se, and I certainly didn’t want to jinx Ethan’s chances at a win. But I’d be damned if he went into something this dangerous without a backup plan.

“Yes, Helen?”

I glanced back, found her standing at the bottom of the stairs, hands folded as she waited for Ethan’s attention. I hadn’t even heard her approach.

“Amit is settled, asked that you meet him in the training room in half an hour.”

Ethan smiled slyly. “I will. Thank you for coordinating.”

Helen nodded, disappeared efficiently down the hallway toward her office.

“Will you let him beat you since he came all this way?”

His laugh was strangled. “He’s the most powerful vampire in the world for good reason. Although I know a few tricks here and there.”

“I’d avoid the one where you kiss your opponent in order to throw him off balance.”

His eyes shone like emeralds. “I’d never do that, Sentinel. That’s a foolish boy’s trick.”

“Which you, being a mature, centuries-old vampire, certainly wouldn’t employ?”

“Certainly not,” he said, but kissed me again, nearly throwing me off balance.

I suppose even the most mature of men had the occasional ornery impulse.

* * *

T minus three hours until the testing, and the House still rang with excitement. Not just because of the challenge—a line of fear trickled through the magic at the risk he was undertaking. But Amit was the most powerful vampire in the world, and he was a friend of our Master’s and here to help him prepare.

Cadogan’s Novitiates weren’t going to miss that show. Hell, most of the vampires in Chicago wouldn’t have missed the show if they’d had the opportunity to watch. I belatedly realized I should have invited Catcher and Jonah. They’d have enjoyed the spectacle just as the vampires in the training room’s balcony, which was nearly full, were prepared to do.

Lindsey and I edged past bent knees in the balcony’s front row, squeezing into small gaps beside Malik and Luc.

“Does anyone else suddenly want popcorn?” she asked as she leaned forward over the balcony rail. Magic filled the air.

Popcorn would have been good. The balcony hummed with energy, like we were all settling in to watch a blockbuster movie on opening night.

The training room door opened, and Amit and Ethan walked inside. Both wore black gis. Both had bare feet. Ethan had pulled back his hair, and his Cadogan medal shone at the base of his neck.

They met in the center of the mat and bowed formally. Then Amit clapped Ethan on the back and they shared a few private words.

When they were done, Amit looked up at those of us in the balcony. “You love and respect your Master, of course. But he is one of the finest warriors I have ever known. And I have known many.” Amit grinned slyly. “But that does not mean he is a better warrior than I am.”

There were good-natured jeers from the audience, which Ethan tamped down with a raised hand. “If he believes he is so, shall we say, Masterful, then we should invite him to show us, don’t you think?”

The vampires erupted with applause, of course. They both knew how to work a crowd. They were handsome and strong vampires in their prime, and I suspected they were equally arrogant. And there on the tatami mats preparing to battle each other, they looked as happy as anyone I’d seen in a long time.

Since they were so happy, I allowed myself to relax, to take a temporary respite from worry and anticipation and simply watch them play.

They began with katas, the building blocks of vampire fighting. They stood beside each other and worked through strikes and blocks, their motions remarkably similar and fluid.

When they glistened with sweat, they shared a few words and separated again. Ten feet away, facing each other across the tatami, they bowed again, then angled their bodies in preparation for a fight.

The crowd went wild again, and Ethan looked up at us and winked jauntily. Someone thought to turn on the radio, and AWOLNATION pumped through the speakers with driving bass and canny lyrics.

“Anytime, old man,” Amit said, and beckoned him forward.

Ethan moved first, with a crescent kick that Amit batted away with a hand. He struck with a jab that would have connected with Ethan’s liver, but he pulled his punch at the last moment. This was a warm-up, after all.

But that he didn’t mean harm didn’t also mean he wasn’t going to challenge Ethan.

Ethan was good; there was no doubt. But Amit was . . . something else altogether. If there was a creature beyond vampire—a being with the strength and grace to make being a vampire look ungainly and awkward—Amit was it. The benefit of being the most powerful of vampires, I supposed. His moves were perfectly efficient, perfectly balanced. His power looked deceptively effortless, and I bet there were plenty in history who’d underestimated him, who’d mistaken grace for weakness.

Actually, Amit’s style had a lot in common with ballet. One of the most amazing feats of skilled ballet dancers, male or female, was their ability to make incredibly challenging moves look effortless. Through years of practice, they honed muscle and tuned muscle memory to make leaping splits and pirouettes en pointe look as simple as walking. They had preeminent control, just like Amit Patel.

Ethan made an advance, a series of kicks and strikes that moved them halfway across the room, his motions nearly blurred with speed. Amit deflected them, but not as easily as he had the individual strikes. He had to work to battle Ethan back, which made my own blood race with excitement. Amit was a beauty to watch, certainly. But Ethan was execution and power—the modern dance to Amit’s ballet.

He executed a side kick that reached high enough to nearly brush Amit’s hair back from his head. Amit bent backward from the waist to avoid it, then completed the rotation, hands to the ground, flipping his feet over so he was standing again.

Amit’s eyes went wide with pleasure. “You’ve been practicing.”

“I have a very good sparring partner,” he said, and I flushed with pride as the vampires around me chuckled collegially and patted me on the back.

“Way to be, Sentinel,” Lindsey whispered.

I nodded but kept my eyes on the duo and their pas de deux on the mats. They made it very easy to watch.

Chapter Twenty

CONFESSION IS GOOD FOR THE SOUL

When their workout was over, they cleaned up and returned to Ethan’s office to reminisce. I gave them time to chat, checking my messages and returning to the Ops Room.

I found Luc and Lindsey at the conference table. “Where is she?”

I didn’t need to specify. “Still at the hotel, waiting for details about the physical test. Kelley’s got eyes on her, lots of room service being delivered.”

“Stress eating,” Lindsey suggested.

“That’s what I’d do,” I agreed, and thought of the carb loading I’d done at Layers. I was nervous enough now that I wasn’t hungry for anything.

Luc put an arm around my shoulders. “This will all turn out fine,” he said. “I know it’s stressful now, but this is Ethan we’re talking about. The man loves a challenge. He Commended you, after all.”

My elbow connecting with his ribs felt nearly as good as his reassurances.

* * *

When another hour had passed, and we were but an hour away from the testing, I decided it was time to enact the other part of my Amit Patel plan.

My motivation in bringing him here had been primarily selfless—finding someone whose strength would inspire Ethan, remind him of his friends and allies and the support that he’d have regardless the outcome of the trials.

But it was secondarily completely selfish. Ethan and Amit had been friends for a very long time. When I’d asked him to come, I’d thought Amit might help me break down Ethan’s walls. We’d made much progress last night—progress I was afraid we’d never make—and I’d made my choice. But there were still things to be said, worries in my heart about who Ethan was and what I still might learn.

I walked upstairs to find him. Ethan’s door was open, the office empty, as was Malik’s. I found Helen in her office a few doors down, writing in a large binder.

I tapped lightly on her door, caught the quick look of irritation when she lifted her head. “Yes, Merit?”

“Have you seen Amit, by chance?”

“I believe he wanted a look around the grounds. Said the quiet would do him good.”

“Thank you,” I said, and turned to go.

“Merit—wait.”

I looked back at her, found her face screwed up with obvious discomfort. “You did a very thoughtful thing, bringing him here. Ethan is under considerable stress, as you know, and he seems to have lightened the load considerably.”

“Thank you, Helen,” I said, and left her to her note-taking.

I found Amit outside beside the fountain, finally bubbling after a long, cold winter. His arms rested loosely on his bent knees.

He glanced up at the sound of my footsteps. “Good evening, Merit.”

“Hi, Amit.” I glanced at the fountain, the shifting of lights on water. I’d always loved that—lights on water at night. The sound of it, the hypnotic and changing sight of it.

I sat down cross-legged beside him. For a few minutes, we looked quietly at the water, watched the light reflect and bounce off its surface.

“It’s lovely out here,” he said.

“It is.”

“You’re worried about him,” Amit said, breaking the silence.

“Not worried. Just . . . concerned.” I glanced at him, took in the dark slope of nose, the dark hair, the preternaturally thoughtful eyes. “He’s been thinking a lot about his past. It’s been eating at him and, frankly, Nicole has only dredged it up. We talked last night. But he is still, in so many ways, a mystery to me.”

A corner of his mouth lifted, and he looked back at the water. “He is a complicated man. Very strong. Very loyal. Very confident.”

“Ultraconfident,” I agreed. “Probably too confident sometimes.”

“He was not always so. He fought back his own demons, as we all must do. He closed the doors of his past, and I suspect does not want to open them again.”

“Yeah. I’d agree with that.”

Amit slid me a glance. “You think he does not trust you.”

“I think he doesn’t feel comfortable unburdening himself with me. He still feels I might run.”

“And will you?”

“No,” I said, and instinctively reached for the Cadogan medal at my throat, realized I hadn’t put it on this evening, and fisted my hand, dropped it again.

Amit nodded at my answer.

“I made my choice many, many months ago. He gave his life for me, Amit. Everything else—every bit of drama in his past—pales in comparison. But what if he can’t overcome his demons?”

“He has told you of the monster that lives in the centuries behind him?”

“Of Balthasar?” I quietly asked, as if saying his name loudly might give him power. “Yes.”

“Balthasar was, for all intents and purposes, his god for many, many years. He made Ethan, in many respects, a vampire in his own image. He hasn’t attempted to hide that from you—or the fact that it impacted him. So what difference will details make?”