Oliver didn't speak to her for the rest of the evening. She fell asleep with a crick in her neck from the tension. Why was she being so stubborn, she wondered as she drifted off to sleep. Oliver only wanted the best for her.
Why are you being so stubborn?
Schuyler opened her eyes.
She was in New York, in her bedroom. The faded Broadway Playbill covers that lined the walls were yellow and curling at the edges.
Her mother was sitting on her bed.
This was a dream. But not the usual one. A dream about her mother. She didn't think about her much anymore. She hadn't even had time to say good-bye when they had left New York last year.
It was the first time she'd seen her mother since Allegra had appeared on Corcovado holding a sword.
Allegra looked at Schuyler sternly.
«He is right, you know. The Conduits always are. You cannot live this way. The transformation will kill you without the proper guidance and care. You cannot risk your life like this.»
«But I can't go home,» Schuyler said. «As much as I want to, I can't.»
«Yes you can.»
«I can't!» Schuyler rubbed her eyes.
«I know you are afraid of what will happen when you return. But you must face your fear, Schuyler. If you and Abbadon are meant to be, then there is nothing that any-one, not him, not even you, can do to stop it.»
Her mother was right. She didn't want to go home because then Jack would be so, so, so very close. Jack, who was still free . . . Jack, who had kissed her so passionately . . . who could still be hers. . . . But if she kept away, then she wouldn't be tempted to see him and betray Oliver.
«You cannot be with someone just because you don't want to hurt him. You have your own happiness to think about,» Allegra said.
«But even if we're together, it will only kill Jack,» Schuyler said. «It's against the Code. And he'll diminish . . .»
«If he will take the risk to be with you, who are you to tell him what to do with his life? Look at me. Look at how much I risked to be with your father.»
«My father is dead. And you're in a coma. I practically grew up an orphan,» Schuyler said, not even trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She had never known her father, he had died before she was born. As for Allegra? well, there wasn't much of a relationship anyone could have with a living corpse, now was there. 'tell me, Mother, was it worth it? Was your «great» love for my father worth what has happened to your family?»
She couldn't keep herself from saying such hurtful things. But everything spilled out after years of living alone.
She loved her mother, she did. But she didn't want an angel who only appeared once in a lifetime to give her some enchanted sword. Schuyler wanted a real parent: one who was there for her when she cried, who encouraged and prodded and annoyed her, a little bit, only because they cared so much. She wanted someone ordinary. Like Oliver's mom. She had no idea how Mrs. H-P knew where they would be, but every few months a package would arrive at their hotel, and inside would be chocolates and new socks and things they didn't even know they needed, like flashlights and batteries.
Allegra sighed. «I understand your disappointment in me. I hope that one day you will understand and forgive. There are consequences to every action. It is true, I have deep, deep regrets sometimes. But without your father I would never have had you. I was only with you for such a brief moment of time, but I treasured every moment, with you and your father. I would do it all over again if I had to. So yes. It was worth it.»
«I don't believe you,» Schuyler said. «No one in their right mind would choose your life.»
«Be that as it may, come home, daughter. I am waiting for you. Come home.»
CHAPTER 38
Mimi
When Mimi opened her eyes, the auction room had slipped away and she was in the sanctuary, a small room with four walls made of stained glass. Of course, in the glom, it had never been destroyed.
She stood in a circle with the five other members; Forsyth, the seventh, stood in the middle. They were dressed in long black hooded robes. Like a bunch of grim reapers, Mimi thought. So much of the Blue Blood ways had seeped into popular culture, but twisted and stripped of their gravity.
«Welcome, everyone,» Forsyth Llewellyn said, looking very puffed up and self-satisfied. Perfectly natural, Mimi thought, as he was assuming the highest office in the land, as head of a secret government the Red Bloods didn't even know existed. His work as a senator was completely perfunctory. Mimi heard he had done only superficial work toward helping to resolve the financial crisis that held the country in its grip. Mimi had not been a full-serving member of the Conclave when Lawrence had been elected, but she had a vague idea of the proceedings.
Seymour Corrigan called the roll and started the ceremony. «Since the early days of this world, our Regis holds the soul of the Coven in his heart. But before he is chosen, he must be blessed by the Seven, and so we have gathered here today for the benediction.»
It was a ceremony that went back to ancient Egypt. Except this time there would be no false beard of goat's hair, no magic scepter, no symbolic leather whip, no crown of ostrich feathers. But the fundamentals were the same.
Warden Corrigan began the tabulation, calling out to the great houses by their names from the Sacred Language.
«What say you, Domus Magnificat?» The House of Riches was represented by Josiah Rockefeller Archibald, whose family had built the center on which they stood.
«We say aye,» he murmured.
«What say you, Domus Septem Sanctimonialis?»
«We say aye,» said Alice Whitney, who was the last of the line of the House of the Seven Sisters.
«What say you, Domus Veritas?»
Of course the Venators were represented on the council, but Mimi was curious as to why Abe Tompkins spoke for them. He hadn't been an active Venator for many years.
«We say aye,» old Abe responded.
«What say you, Domus Preposito?»
The House of the Stewards was a title that had always been given to the family nearest to the Regis. The Llewellyns currently had that honor.
Forsyth Llwellyn smiled. «We say aye.»
«What say you, Domus Stella Aquillo?»
The House of the Northern Star was one of the biggest benefactors of art programs in the country. Ambrose Barlow looked nervously at Minerva Morgan. He bowed his head and whispered, «Aye.»
There were only two houses left. Next to her, Mimi felt Minerva Morgan's anxiety.
«What say you, Domus Domina?»
The House of the Gray Lady. Death House, but no one called it that. The family that was in charge of the records, of the cycles of expression and expulsion.
Minerva Morgan did not respond.
«Domus Domina?» Seymour Corrigan cleared his throat. «Domus Domina?»
Minerva Morgan sighed. «Aye.»
«Domus Lamia says aye,» Warden Corrigan said, a bit grumpily.
The House of the Vampyres; an old title, and the head of the Conspiracy.
Mimi braced herself. She was next.
Warden Corrigan coughed.
«What say Domus Fortis Valerius Incorruputus. House of the Pure Blood, of the Uncorrupted, of the Valiant and the Strong, Protector of the Garden, Commander of the Lord's Armies? What say you?»
That was Michael's line. Gabrielle's line. The Van Alen line, now bastardized by the Force name. Mimi raised her voice.
«We say . . .» She wavered. She thought of Minerva Morgan's uncertainty. Ambrose Barlow, who was so old they had all thought he was senile. And yet he had brought in that piece of paper. Had brought it to her. They were counting on her. An anonymous note, but an important one. They were right. They could not discount its message.
Mimi suddenly understood that Ambrose and Minerva could not do it themselves, but they very much wanted her to. She was young, but she outranked them by far. She represented the house that had led this Coven of immortals for centuries upon centuries.
The house that would now be stripped of its power by the very ritual they were undertaking. She hadn't thought about it until today, but it suddenly hit home that they were just going to hand over the Coven to Forsyth Llewellyn? Who was Forsyth Llewellyn anyway? Mimi scanned her memories.
A minor angel. A minor deity. A steward. He was no Regis.
She could do this. She had battled Silver Bloods and sent demons back to Hades. She would stand up when others could not.
«The House of the Pure Blood would like to render their objection to this proceeding,» she said clearly and confidently.
«Objection?» Seymour Corrigan looked confused.
«We say no.» Mimi said.
«No?» Corrigan asked again.
«No.» More clearly this time.
Forsyth, for his part, looked composed.
«I just don't understand why we need to do this'move the spirit of the Coven to a new leader when my father is still alive?» Mimi burst out. She took a deep breath. «Therefore I must object.»
«The White Vote must be unanimous,» Warden Corrigan said worriedly. «We cannot move the Coven to Forsyth's safekeeping unless it is a unanimous vote by the seven families.»
He looked lost, while Ambrose and Minerva looked relieved. Everyone else looked to Forsyth for guidance.
Mimi noticed that, White Vote or not, he was already their leader.
«We shall stay the installation as Warden Force wishes,» Forsyth said smoothly. «I have no desire to assume a role that not everyone agrees is mine. And I too am distressed by Charles's disappearance. We shall wait.»