“Jesus Christ,” Luc murmured, staring at the timeline.
I nodded, walked toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Luc asked.
“I want to talk to Ethan about Persephone, about that night.”
And if this vampire, this man who’d thrown our lives into chaos was nothing more than a very powerful grifter running a long con, he was going to answer to me.
* * *
My palms began to sweat on the trip upstairs to Ethan’s office. I wasn’t looking forward to making him focus on Balthasar again, and certainly not to suggest that Ethan had been wrong from the beginning.
His office door was open a few inches. I put a hand on the door, nearly pushed it open, until I recognized Jonah’s voice in the room.
I froze, shifted so I could see them through the crack in the door. They stood in the middle of Ethan’s office. Ethan had a glass in hand. Jonah had his hands in his pockets, and he looked profoundly uncomfortable.
“She is sad, Jonah,” Ethan was saying. “She feels you’re underestimating her. As you are.”
My eyes widened in surprise, just as Jonah’s did.
“She told you?”
“Not the details. She didn’t have to.” Ethan turned back, looked at him. “Her relationship with me, my involvement in the AAM. Of course you’d see that as a potential asset.” He paused. “I know you have feelings for her.”
“Had.”
“That’s debatable. If your emotions weren’t coloring your analysis of this situation, you’d see it differently. That’s what makes it disappointing.”
“And how, exactly, would I see it differently?”
“If I were you, instead of seeing her relationship with us as a liability, I’d see it as a bonus.” He put a hand on his chest. “I’d consider the information she’ll be privy to, the access she’ll have. I’d wager her situation is unique in the United States, and I’d be grateful for that situation. I wouldn’t hold it against her. And I wouldn’t use it as an excuse to question her loyalty. And if you have any doubt that she would put power and gain above the welfare of her friends, her colleagues, her family, then she’s the one who needs a new partner.”
“She made an oath.”
“To the RG, and to me, and to her House. And she made an oath to you, of a kind, and you to her. She isn’t the one breaking that oath now.”
“Balthasar could—”
“Balthasar is irrelevant, as you well know. He is trouble, yes, and we are dealing with him. But he has no bearing on my rule of this House, or her.
“Look,” Ethan continued. “Either you earnestly, and wrongly, believe that she’ll be suddenly blind to my incompetence, or my succumbing to Balthasar—or someone else in the RG believes it, and you won’t stand up for her. Neither option is particularly flattering for you.”
He finished his drink, set it aside. “You should get back to your House, keep an eye on your Master, just as you suggest Merit keep an eye on hers. Although Balthasar has no bearing on my leadership, he’s still dangerous. Until we get him squared away, I recommend you stay close to Scott.”
Jonah nodded. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
Jonah turned toward the door, and I nearly ran down the hallway to duck out of sight. But since I wasn’t a child, I cleared my throat and pushed open the door as if I’d only just come by.
“Oh, sorry,” I said, with what I hoped was admirable acting. “I didn’t see you had anyone in here.”
Ethan looked amused. “No trouble, Sentinel. Jonah was here to discuss the Investiture and look over the grounds. He’s just heading back to Grey House.”
Jonah nodded. “You were at Torrance Island?”
“Yeah. It would have been a cool tour but for the murderous criminals.”
“I bet. I should go,” he said, and slipped out without another word.
“Did you enjoy our conversation?”
I looked back at Ethan. “What conversation?”
He smiled. “I saw you outside, Sentinel. Although I don’t think he did.”
“Thanks for taking up for me.”
“I’d say I was taking up for your partnership. Whether I like it or not, it’s a valuable asset to the House. You two work well together and could continue to do so if he wasn’t being so stubborn.”
“Yeah.” I walked to him, slipped my arms around him, relieved that I hadn’t questioned the gesture before doing it. “What do I do?”
“I don’t know, Merit.” Ethan paused, clearly surprised by the embrace, before wrapping his arms around me, his relief nearly palpable. “I’m afraid he’s not giving you many choices. He certainly doesn’t believe he has many. You came up for something, and I presume it wasn’t Jonah.”
My stomach twisted again, and I pulled back. “I have a question about Balthasar, actually.”
“Ah.”
“You said you believed it was Persephone’s family who assaulted Balthasar. Held him.”
“That’s correct.”
“How do you know?”
His jaw worked for a moment, his expression still unusually cautious. “I told them.”
I blinked. “You told them?”
“What he’d done and where to find him.” One hand on his hips, he ran the other through his hair. “I couldn’t save her, couldn’t kill my maker to avenge her. But I could let them know the truth and give them an opportunity to avenge her death, and prevent any others.”
Ethan walked a few steps away, giving himself space, looked back at me. “It is not something I’m proud of. It was cowardly to ask a human to do work I should have done. But there had been so much death . . .” He looked away.
So Balthasar had killed Persephone, and Ethan had told her family about it. They’d hunted him down and planned to kill him, and one of them decided he’d be more useful scientifically. But still, through all that, Balthasar didn’t remember her name? Had he not thought about the timing? About the fact that he’d been attacked just after Ethan left? Surely he could have put that together. And if he had, why hadn’t he mentioned it?
“What’s on your mind, Sentinel?”
“Puzzle pieces that don’t fit well,” I said. “He didn’t know about Persephone.”
“What do you mean?”