The Van Alen Legacy(33)

«Gaius. Yes. That was what they used to call the Visitor.»

And Allison was absolutely right. He had despised that nickname. Bliss felt as if everything was coming back too fast and too soon, memories were falling like snowflakes, bright and glittering in her mind, but these were the Visitor's memories: Rome, the final days, the deception, the betrayal. First with his sisters, Agrippina he could understand (Bliss was shocked to find the image of Agrippina looking back at her with the eyes of Mimi Force), Agrippina and Valerius had sided with that damned Cassius or whatever they had called Michael back then.

But Julia! How could she do this to him, his baby sister, the youngest child, she was so young when she first suspected, and it was she who had called Cassius's attention to his corruption, Julia Livilla . . . how Julia hated that name, said it reminded her of her awful aunt, whom she despised. She had wanted to be called something else. . . .

Sophia.

He had been so close. So close to having his dream realized. He had come so close, only to have Cassius ruin everything. . . .

In her mind, Bliss saw what the Visitor had seen back then. A path. A winding path deep below the city of Lutetia, through tunnels far beneath the earth, a winding path that led underground, to a coven of demons bowing to his crown. . . . He would rise again, majestic and glorious, the Prince of Paradise once again . . . forever. All the world would shake and cower. The rivers would run with blood and the horsemen would be unleashed. . . . There would be no escape from Satan's army. This was the crisis in Rome.

Bliss gasped.

The demons. The deaths. The corruption. All this had happened before. And it was going to happen again. Unless . . .

She blinked. She was sitting in the classroom, Allison was done, and everyone was stuffing books and papers into their bags.

Miss Murray was looking at her curiously. «Are you all right, Bliss?»

«Yes,» she said. «I just . . . I think I forgot to eat breakfast.»

Miss Murray nodded. «You know, Bliss, that if you find you need someone to talk to, I'm here for you.»

Bliss nodded. Teachers at Duchesne were always super-empathic. The school policy was an «all-hands» approach. They didn't wait for troubled students to find their way to the guidance counselor's office.

«Sure, Miss M. Thanks.»

Miss Murray was smiling at her so kindly that she found herself talking, even though she had not meant to say anything. «It's just . . . I have this problem, see . . . and I'm worried about bringing my friend into it . . . but I have a feeling she's the only one who can help me.»

«I see.» Miss Murray crossed her arms. «sometimes it's good to ask for help, Bliss. And friends are the only people we can trust when we are in trouble. That's what they're for, anyway. I'm sure your friend would be glad that you had reached out to her.»

Bliss nodded. «I think . . . I think you're right.»

«Good.» Miss Murray smiled. For a moment, she reminded Bliss of someone, but she couldn't figure out who.

Bliss removed her cell phone from her handbag. Her history teacher had helped her make a decision. She couldn't do this alone, and the Force twins were no help at all. Trying to have a meaningful conversation with Jack was impossible. He stalked the halls of Duchesne with a shuffling, mournful air, as if grieving the loss of something precious. He rarely smiled anymore. Bliss had even seen him barking at the freshmen who got in his way, which was completely unlike him. Jack had always been kind to new students.

As for Mimi, Bliss had felt the temptation to confide in her, but so far all Mimi ever wanted to talk about was lipstick and jeans, and there was no way for Bliss to steer the conversation in a more serious direction. Mimi had once been so interested in the Conclave, but now she acted as if she could care less about what happened to the Blue Bloods.

But there was someone who could help her. There was someone who would understand. Someone who was just as intimately connected to everything that had happened as she was, and who deserved to know everything. She couldn't shield her friend even if she wanted to. She was part of this too.

Bliss punched a quick reply on the screen.

«tomorrow. meet me at the prada sample sale.»




CHAPTER 46



Schuyler

Schuyler was familiar with the horror stories of American public education: the overcrowded classrooms, the violent students, the indifferent teachers. She had no idea what to expect: graffiti-ridden walls? Metal detectors? Roving gangs slashing innocent victims in the hallways?

It was early October, and as she walked into the school, a nondescript building on 22nd Street, she tried not to look too surprised. It was orderly. The metal detectors were built into the entrance, so students wouldn't feel like they were walking into a prison. You had to walk through a metal detector to get into the Met, right? Not that this was anything like the Met, but it wasn't something out of Jonathan Kozol either. She had even managed to get in to the few AP and honors classes offered. She had a locker, a homeroom, and a pretty good English teacher.

But even though she was relieved that Hamilton High exceeded her expectations, as she walked through the hallways that always smelled slightly of Pine-Oil cleaner, she realized with a pang how much she had loved Duchesne. Especially now that she could never go back. At least she would be seeing Bliss tomorrow. Schuyler decided enough was enough.

There were some people she could trust in this world and Bliss was one of them. She was keen on seeing her friend, and wondered why it had taken Bliss so long to get back to her. Maybe she was mad at her for deserting her, Schuyler hoped not, she had to make Bliss understand, they'd had no choice but to leave. Oliver said that at school Bliss was friendly but uninterested, acting as if they were mere acquaintances and nothing more.

It hurt to think of everyone back at Duchesne without her. She didn't know what the future held, but she had a feeling it would not bring SAT prep classes and early admissions letters. She was here to follow her grandfather's advice: to learn how to move in human society without giving away her vampire ancestry.

One thing Hamilton lacked was a proper library. Oh, it had a tiny library, a room the size of a closet displaying old S. E. Hinton paperbacks, with a bank of computer terminals where everyone checked their e-mails. Studying at home had always made Schuyler feel itchy, and one of the things she loved about her new neighborhood was that she wasn't too far from the New York Public Library.

She liked the reading room on the second floor, where the writers worked, the ones with the library fellowships. It was always quiet there. She was walking up the grand staircase one afternoon after a long day of classes when who should be walking down but Jack Force.

He didn't look too surprised to see her back in New York.

«I'm glad to see you took my advice finally,» he said by way of greeting. He did not smile. «Welcome back.»

«Thanks. It's good to be back,» she said, trying to appear as nonchalant as he was. Jack had let his hair grow out a little since they had seen each other last, now that he wasn't a Venator anymore. It curled behind his ears and over his shirt collar.

«What are you doing here anyway?»

Duchesne had a wonderful library, on the top floor, with a view of Central Park. And whatever could not be found in the Duchesne library could be found in the vampire Repository.

Trinity's on the board for the Library Lions,» Jack said. «since she's been in D.C., she asked me if I could fill in during the meeting.»

Schuyler nodded. She had come back to New York, but had come back too late. When she'd spied the invitation the other evening, her heart had not thumped wildly in her chest, her mouth had not turned dry, her eyes had not threatened to water. She had almost expected it, somehow. She was resigned to the news by now.

«About the Conclave,» she started. «Are they . . . «?

«Don't worry about them. You are safe for now. Oliver did a fine job with his story of your estrangement. Thankfully there's no one on the Conclave who knows the two of you well. Because if they did they would realize there's absolutely no truth to it,» he said. «He is a good friend to you.»

She knew it took an effort for him to say it, and she thought she would return the gesture. «So . . . I hear . . . congratulations are in order. You and Mimi.»

«Ah. Yes.» He appeared pleased.

Schuyler understood they would not talk about what had happened between them in Paris. The kiss. It was as if Jack were standing behind a block of ice. He was unreachable. His face set in stone. Already he was shutting her out. He had tried so hard so many times, and she had always rejected him. On Perry Street. In Paris. He would not give her another chance, she knew.

She had come too late. She had followed her heart and had come too late, as usual. In two weeks he would be lost to her forever. He would be bonded to Mimi, but at least he would be safe. It's all she ever wanted for him.

«I'm happy for you,» she said brightly. «Really. I mean . . . I know what it's like to be alone in the world, and I wouldn't want that for you.»

«Thank you,» he said. «I wish you the same.»

Jack lingered on the stairway. It looked as if he were going to say something else, but thought better of it. With a wave of his hand, he was gone.

Schuyler forgot what she had come to the library to find.