Embarrassed at the love-struck teen implication, I stammered out, "I am - was - working on my dissertation. Before."

Ethan finished his drink and put the glass on the bar, then leaned back against it, arms crossed. "I see."

"Honestly, I doubt that you do. But if you hoped changing me would help you access Merit money, you're out of luck. I don't have it - either the money or the access."

Ethan looked momentarily startled, and didn't meet my gaze when he pushed off the bar and moved back to the desk. When he was seated again, he frowned at me - not in anger, I thought, but in puzzlement. "What if I said that I could give you things? Would that ease the transition?"

Across the room, Mallory groaned.

"I'm not my parents."

I was the recipient of another long stare, but this one held a glimmer of respect. "I'm beginning to see that."

Finally finding my footing - he may have been a vampire, but he was subject to human prejudices just like everyone else - I relaxed back into the chair, crossing my legs and arms, and arching a brow at him.

"Is that what you thought? That I'd see the Armani and the Hyde Park address, and I'd be so excited I'd forget that I hadn't consented?"

"Perhaps we've both misjudged the situation," he allowed. "But if there's such animus in your family, why do you go by 'Merit'?"

I glanced over at Mallory, who was picking a bit of lint from one of the heavy velvet curtains that lined the windows. She was one of only a handful of friends who knew the entire story, and I wasn't about to add Ethan Sullivan to that group.

"It's better than the other option," I told him.

Ethan seemed to consider that before averting his gaze to a pile of papers on his desk. He shuffled them. "And you aren't undead. You aren't undead, or the walking dead, and Buffy isn't a reliable anatomical resource. You didn't die that night. Your blood was taken and replaced. Your heart never stopped beating. You're better now, genetically, than you were before. A predator. The top of the food chain. I've made you an immortal, assuming you manage to keep out of trouble. If you follow the rules, you can have a long, productive life as a Cadogan vampire. Speaking of, did Helen give you everything you need? You received a copy of the Canon?"

I nodded.

"Have you had blood yet?"

"Bagged blood was delivered to the house, but I haven't had any. To be honest, it didn't look that appetizing."

"You got plenty during the transition, so the thirst hasn't hit you yet. Give it another day. You'll want it badly enough when First Hunger strikes." Ethan's lips tipped up, and he smiled. It was a little disarming - that smile. He looked younger, happier, more human. "Did you say bagged blood?"

"That's what was delivered. Why is that funny?"

"Because you're a vampire of the Cadogan line. You can drink directly from humans or other vampires. Just don't kill anyone."

I put a hand across my stomach, as if the touch could still the greasy wave that suddenly rolled through it. "I'm not going to bite someone. I don't want to drink at all, bagged or otherwise, people or not. You can't just go around and" - I waved a hand in the air - "chew on people."

Ethan clucked his tongue. "And to think - we were so close to having a normal conversation. Merit, you're an adult. I suggest you learn to accept your circumstances, and quickly. Like it or not, your life has changed. You need to come to terms with exactly who you are."

"I know who I am," I assured him.

A golden eyebrow winged upward. "You know who you were. I know who you are, Merit, and who you'll come to be."

"And what is that?"

His face was completely, serenely confident. "Mine. My vampire. My subject."