Free Some Girls Bite by Chloe Neill Page B

a vampire war I don’t know about? Did changing me piss someone off?”
    He frowned as he perused the note again. “Perhaps your initial attacker is bitter about not having finished the job, or about my having finished it for him. We believed he, the one who bit you, was a Rogue—a vampire living outside the House system. The note would suggest that’s true. It’s also possible there’s a connection between your attack and the attack that killed Jennifer Porter.”
    It wasn’t the first time I’d considered that connection, but the idea was more unnerving coming from his lips. It gave legitimacy to the possibility that I was the intended victim of a vampireturned-serial killer. But it also raised other questions.
    “You know, it’s quite a coincidence that you were trolling across campus at the same time I was attacked by a vamp.”
    He lifted deeply green eyes to mine. “There was a considerable amount of luck involved.”
    We looked at each other for a moment.
    “Ethan,” I softly said, “you didn’t kill Jennifer Porter, did you?”
    His lashes fell, crescents of long, dark blond against golden skin. “No, I didn’t kill her. Nor did anyone from my House.”
    I wasn’t sure if I believed him, although I had no reason to doubt his honesty, not when he’d dealt with me, even I could admit, generously. I’d openly challenged the head of my House, and all I’d suffered for it was a little embarrassment before a cadre of vampires I didn’t know. I opened my mouth to ask about the note, but before I got anything out, something set off the gallery. They began to yell down at us, the general consensus being that I deserved a beating.
    “Liege!” one yelled. “You can’t let her get away with challenging you!”
    He raised his gaze to his vampires. “You’re right. I’ll send her to her room without dessert and take away her cell phone!”
    The crowd snickered, but Ethan raised a hand again, and as if he was conducting the symphony of their voices, they quieted immediately. Whatever my issues with his authority, they were clearly much less reticent.
    “Friends, she made a good-faith effort to best me. And since she hasn’t yet taken the oaths, she hasn’t”—he glanced at me—“ technically breached the Canon . Besides, she rose a mere two days ago, and nearly managed to catch me. She will make an undeniably important addition to the House, and we all know how . . . delicate our alliances are.”
    There were fewer titters now, mixed with reluctant nods.
    “More important, she came here in fear for her life.” He held up the note. “She rose a mere two days ago, and she’s been threatened.”
    The redhead who’d accompanied him in the parlor stepped to the edge of the balcony. “Are you sure she hasn’t brought war to us, my Liege?”
    If I had any question as to what she was to him, her cannily cocked hip and bedroom eyes were answer enough. Girlfriend. Lover. Consort, if we were sticking with feudal terms. I expected to see Ethan’s emerald eyes on her lush curves, but when I turned back to him, his gaze was on me, his smile cocky, like he knew I’d been appraising his mistress.
    I shrugged. “She seems nice enough, if you like the busty, voluptuous, gorgeous type.”
    “Much to my dismay”—and that rang clear in the irritably flat tone of his voice—“I find I have a sudden taste for stubborn, lithe brunettes with horrible fashion sense.”
    He might as well have been parroting lines from Pride and Prejudice , for all the disdain that rang through his voice, his obvious aversion at being attracted to a woman so déclassé. Self-conscious again of my casual clothes—but cognizant of the fact that I looked good in them—I managed not to tug at my T-shirt or jeans. Instead, I slipped thumbs into my belt loops and tapped fingers against my flat hips. Ethan watched the movement intensely. When his eyes lifted again, I arched an eyebrow. “Not even in your dreams, Sullivan.”
    He