House Rules – First Chapter

It was like a scene from a divorce: belongings divided into piles; books labeled with one owner’s name or the other; and everyone emotionally exhausted. But in this case, there was no breakup. Not of the human variety, anyway. This was more of a secession. A declaration of independence.
It was a rebellion, and the golden-haired vampire next to me was leading the charge. Ethan Sullivan, the unofficial co-Master of Chicago’s Cadogan House, and my boyfriend.
That was still a strange thing to say.
Ethan, looking exceptionally handsome in black pants, a button-down, and a black tie, examined a slim, leather-bound book.
“This one belongs to the GP,” he said, glancing at the spine. “The Metamorphosis of Man,” he read. “From Opposable Thumbs to Descending Fangs.”
“That’s an awful title,” I said.
“It’s their awful title now.” Ethan’s words were humorous, but the tone in his voice wasn’t. The entire House was nervous, the building fogged with magical tension as we waited for the final countdown: Seventy-two hours remained until our official split from the Greenwich Presidium, the European council that ruled American vampire Houses, and the pendulum swung over our heads like Damocles’ sword. The GP’s members were traveling to Chicago for the sole purpose of formally expelling the House—of breaking up with us in public.

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