Gates of Paradise

by Melissa de la Cruz

  “Is it serious?” Schuyler asked, looking worried.

  “I’m sure the nuns are just jumpy. Do not worry. The grails are well hidden. A very old and very deep magic keeps them safe from harm.”

  “Just like the gates,” Schuyler said.

  Pendragon nodded, appraising her with approval. “The holy blood is about lineage, about ancestry.” The old knight looked at Schuyler. “Do you know who your father is?”

  Back in the cab on the way to the town house, Schuyler mulled over Pendragon’s words and her own history. She was the Dimidium Cognatus. The half-blood. The only child of vampire and human lineage. “The Blood of the Father…Do you think?” she asked Oliver. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “Your father is still alive,” Oliver said. “That’s what your mother wanted you to know.”

  “Alive? It can’t be.”

  “What did your grandmother say? What did Cordelia say about him?”

  “She always made it clear he was dead, and that’s why Allegra was in a coma, because my mother wouldn’t take another familiar after he passed. I got the feeling Cordelia hated my father’s family. She never spoke of them, especially him. She couldn’t stand it that Allegra had married a Red Blood. I never knew much about him.” Schuyler fiddled with the latch on her bag. “I mean, I don’t even carry his name,” she said softly. She remembered all those lonely afternoons by Allegra’s bedside, and the time she had come upon a stranger kneeling by her mother’s bed, and how her heart had raced at the possibility that her father had returned. But the stranger had turned out to be Charles Force. The vampire Allegra had spurned to bond with her human familiar.

  Oliver squeezed her hand in sympathy. “That was your grandmother’s fault, not yours.”

  “Do you really think my dad is still alive?” she asked. “But there’s no way that’s true. My mom was in a coma out of grief, remember?” But then again, Allegra had so many secrets, it was hard to know what was true and what wasn’t, and Schuyler told that to Oliver as well.

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out. What do you know of your father’s family?”

  “They owned some big company a long time ago; my father was named after it. Bendix Corporations, I think. But they sold it.”

  Oliver tapped the information into his phone. “Says here Bendix is now headquartered in Los Angeles, but that the family still retains a percentage of ownership, and sits on the board. I can get us on a flight tonight if you want.”

  “Let’s do it,” Schuyler said. Her father was alive? No. It was impossible. She didn’t know much about her father, but she knew he was gone. If he was alive, why hadn’t he ever tried to come see her? How could someone just let their child grow up without ever once trying to contact them? She had grown up missing both her parents, a mother and father she never knew. She was a product of their great love for each other, and yet their legacy to their only child was a deep and abiding loneliness. She had been alone for so many years.

  Not alone: she always had Oliver, she realized. Her human Conduit, her faithful companion. He was with her now.

  Mother, where are you sending me? she wondered.

  SEVENTEEN

  Mimi

  t was dim inside the enchanted chapel, the windows black, as if the world extended no further than the space inside it. Mimi was trapped in an insulated world, in Limbo, in the nothingness of the abyss.

  “I knew it was you at the station,” Kingsley said. “Don’t tell me you’re with that jerk. What happened to that brother of yours?”

  Mimi tossed her hair back haughtily. “We work for Lucifer now.”

  “Yeah, right.” Kingsley laughed.

  “He wants the grail to make godsfire, and we mean to give it to him.”

  “The Mimi I knew—”

  “The Mimi you knew is gone,” she said. “I told you to forget about me, and it looks like you took my advice to heart.”

  “Jealous, were you?” he asked. “Now I know you’re lying about your feelings for me.”

  In reply, she drew out her sword and faced him.

  He did the same, brandishing his weapon. “Do you really mean to fight me for it?” He tipped his sword against hers, and a dull ring echoed around the room. He took two steps backward, the grail in one hand, his blade in the other. “All right, then, who am I to stand in your way. You always were a good sparring partner.”

  Make it look real, she thought. I’ve got to make him believe I have gone to the Dark, to keep him safe. Otherwise…

  She swung first, and he met her thrust with the edge of his sword, bashing her blade against a stone pillar. The shock reverberated through the steel, rattling her grip. She nearly lost the weapon, but quickly recovered. Kingsley took a step back.

  Mimi advanced, crossing her blade against his, then quickly recovering to jab at his chest. Rather than meet her second blow with his sword, he swung with the grail, and she nearly dropped her weapon once more.

  “Careful now, you might destroy what you want to take from me.”

  Mimi smiled. “No chance of that.” She held her sword low, scraping it against the hard stone pillar as she brought it up fast toward his left hand. She turned the blade sideways, as he had first done, and struck at the back side of his hand. The blow sent the cup flailing from his grip, and it fell to the ground with a clang.

  Kingsley took a leap forward, but rather than striking Mimi, he kicked the grail with the back side of his foot, sending the old cup rolling behind him.

  For a moment he was defenseless, and Mimi drew her sword across his chest. Her steel met flesh, drawing a bloody line across his midsection. Kingsley grunted in pain, and she felt the ache in her chest as well, at the thought of hurting him. But her face remained impassive.

  She lunged for the grail, but Kingsley kept himself between her and the cup, circling her as they danced around each other.

  They were now in the center of the nave. The elaborate stone carvings that were worn flat in the real church appeared newly carved and shining in the otherworldly extension. But Mimi stopped admiring her surroundings when Kingsley’s sword nipped her shoulder, cutting through her coat.

  “Ouch!” she said, annoyed.

  “Tit for tat.” Kingsley smiled and motioned to the gash on his chest. “Come on now, let’s stop this. I haven’t seen you in months and this is how you greet me? I’ll say it. I’ve missed you. What happened to you? Why did you disappear like that? Why did you tell me to leave you alone? Explain what happened—I can help.…”

  He knows. He knows I don’t want to hurt him. She could have cut him deeply on the first strike, but she’d only caused a surface wound. He’d treated her shoulder in similar fashion. He wanted to know how far she would take this charade, how badly she was willing to wound him to recover the grail.

  And it was all because she had told him the truth before she’d left. Remember that I love you, no matter what happens.

  It was her own words that were keeping him from buying her act. If only she could take them back. It was too dangerous for him to know the truth.

  “I will take the grail, or I will die trying,” she said. “You’ll have to kill me for it.”

  “Fine,” Kingsley said. He advanced on her side, swinging his sword in a wide arc, and, knowing his reach would exceed hers, slashed against her torso.

  Mimi hissed in pain, but before she could parry, he had cut her again above the knee. She staggered backward, trying to catch her breath. She would heal, but for now the pain was agonizing. He’s toying with me, she realized, as he cut her again, and this time the blade grazed her wrist in a thin line. Kingsley was wearing her down, cutting her with a thousand nips and scrapes. He didn’t want to kill her, but he would chip away at her defenses until she crumbled. Another cut grazed her ear, and this time she couldn’t restrain from letting out a sharp cry of pain.

  Kingsley seemed taken aback. “Are you hurt? Truly?”

  Mimi saw her opportunity and reached
for the chalice, taking it in her hand and raising it in triumph. The moment she touched it, the chapel disappeared around them. The protective spell had dissipated.

  They were standing outside the Rosslyn Chapel now, in the early evening.

  “You can’t hurt me,” Mimi said, as she raised her weapon, her eyes blazing. “You were always a weakling. See how easy it was to take this from you? Lucifer would laugh to see you.” Make him believe it, make him hate you. She advanced toward him and lunged for his heart.

  But rather than parry, Kingsley grabbed her blade and wrapped his hand around the steel, letting it cut into his palm. With all his strength, he pulled Mimi’s sword away from her so it fell to the ground, and she was forced to drop her hold on the chalice as well. He picked up the grail with his blood-soaked hand, and with the other he raised his sword toward her brow.

  “Now tell me the truth,” he said. “Why are you doing this?”

  She cringed from him. “I told you why.”

  “I know you still love me.” He smiled. “I can see it in your face.”

  Mimi sneered. “We are with Lucifer now; we have always been false.”

  “I don’t believe it for one second,” Kingsley whispered, looking into her eyes tenderly.

  “Then you are a fool,” she said. She wanted to throw herself upon him, to bring her face to his, to kiss his lips and hold him in her arms, to brush his dark hair out of his eyes.

  But instead she disappeared into smoke and air.

  Her work was done. The grail was safe in the hands of the Venator she trusted most. She only hoped Jack had been as unsuccessful.

  EIGHTEEN

  Bliss

  er stepmother had named it Penthouse du Rêves. A palace of dreams and an interior decorator’s nightmare. Just as Bliss had guessed, the house was still running, and although she didn’t recognize any of the staff, they all seemed to know her.

  “Welcome back, Miss Llewellyn,” the housekeeper said. “Shall we make up some rooms for you and your guest?” she asked, as if Bliss had been away for merely a few weeks and not a few years. She would have received the same welcome, Bliss thought, no matter how long it had been. Forsyth’s trust funds would have seen to it—that there was a haven for Lucifer’s daughter. Once in a while, her terrible heritage did have its privileges, and Bliss was not shy about using them.

  She asked the butler if he could arrange for a passport for Lawson, and tickets to London for the both of them. “Through whatever means necessary,” she said, and hoped that this new butler would be as effective as the previous one had been.

  The butler gave a nod. “Whatever you request, Miss Llewellyn.”

  Lawson’s mouth had fallen open a bit, though Bliss wasn’t sure if it was from the horror of the rococo decor of the apartment or her ease at ordering servants around.

  “You’re going to catch flies in there,” she teased, and Lawson snapped his mouth shut.

  “This was how you lived?” he asked, after the servants had gone.

  “Oh, it was much worse than this,” she said. “Much, much worse. We used to have a chauffeur who drove me half a block down the road to school. In a Rolls-Royce.” Lawson was looking at her as if she were a stranger, and she didn’t like it. “Yeah, I know, gross. If BobiAnne were here, she’d probably make the driver take me around in a Prius, now that eco-friendly is the new smug.”

  Lawson looked around and grinned, pointing to a life-size sculpture of a golden-haired princess with heaving bosoms.

  Bliss laughed. “Hey, I didn’t decorate this place. My stepmother had ambitions for Versailles. The room we’re putting you in isn’t that bad. We should really get some sleep—we have a lot to do tomorrow.”

  “I could probably use it,” Lawson admitted, and followed her up the stairs.

  The guest room was one of the more tastefully appointed, at least in a relative sense. It had a hunting theme—the walls were dark green, and the curtains, lamp shade, and bedspread were all plaid damask, in shades of navy, maroon, and beige. Bliss thought it wouldn’t have been so bad were it not for the deer heads dotting the walls. Trust BobiAnne to always find the detail that went too far.

  “Sorry about the taxidermy,” Bliss said.

  “Makes me feel right at home,” Lawson deadpanned.

  “Oh, and if you’re hungry, the cook can make you whatever you want.”

  “Kind of like that hotel we stayed in.” He smiled. “Remember?”

  The hotel where they had totally hooked up? Yeah. She remembered. How could she forget? She nodded, trying not to blush.

  “Listen, I know we never talked about what happened that night, and I’m sorry that things got a little out of hand,” he said. “You were right to stop me when you did.”

  So that’s how he felt about it. That it was all a big mistake. Bliss took a deep breath and avoided looking him in the eye. How could she ever have thought he’d really been interested in her? “Good thing,” she agreed. “Would have been a huge mistake, you and me.”

  Lawson looked a little stung. “I didn’t say that. I never said it was a mistake.”

  “But you think it,” she said.

  “Is that what you think?” he asked, challenging her.

  They stared at each other. Finally Bliss said, “No.”

  Lawson’s face broke into a smile. “Neither do I.”

  Bliss didn’t know what to say to that.

  “Keep me company?” he asked suddenly.

  Bliss hesitated for a bit and wondered why she was hesitating. She’d been waiting for this exact moment since the first time.

  “Okay,” she said, not sure what it meant. Maybe it didn’t mean anything. Maybe, like her, he just didn’t want to be alone.

  The lights were off and the house was quiet. She turned toward him at exactly the same time that he turned toward her, and before either of them could say anything, they were already kissing.

  Her attraction to him was unlike anything she had felt before. It was instant, powerful, and when they were together she felt as if he knew every inch of her—not just her body but her soul. She fell asleep in his arms.

  “Bliss…Bliss.” He was gently calling her name.

  Still half asleep, she reached toward him, thinking it would be fun to do that again…but instead of his warm body, her hands only found an empty space where he should have been.

  She blinked her eyes open.

  Lawson was sitting at the edge of the bed, shirtless in his boxer shorts. “Mac just called,” he said, putting his phone away.

  “Something wrong?” she said, pulling up the covers around her chest.

  “Yeah. They went back to the cavern to see if Arthur was there, but he wasn’t. Hadn’t been for a while, apparently. The place was completely trashed, just like the Repository. I don’t know if it was hounds or what, but they said it was a disaster. They think he’s alive, though—there was no blood anywhere. They don’t know what to do next, but we have to find him.”

  “We? But what about my friends?”

  “I have to go with them,” he said. “They’re my pack. My place is with them. With the vampires missing, Arthur’s our only chance of getting back into the passages and the underworld for the rest of the wolves. I want you to come with me.”

  “Lawson…” Bliss put a hand on his cheek. “I have to go to London. I can’t come with you.”

  His face turned red. “Why not?”

  “My friends…they need me. They’re counting on me. You saw that Silver Blood in the Repository. They’re your former masters; you know how strong they are,” Bliss said. “That’s what we’re fighting. The vampires can’t handle them alone.”

  “But I need you too. Your pack needs you.”

  “You don’t understand,” she said, sorrow in her voice.

  “You’re right, I don’t,” he said, getting up and putting on his clothes. “You took an oath.”

  “And you promised you would help me too,” she said quietly, reminding him
of his pledge to her when she became one of his pack. “Lawson, please.”

  He laced his boots.

  “Lawson—” She struggled to stand up. “Where are you going? Lawson!”

  He didn’t look back. Not once. Bliss knew before she heard the front door slam and the elevator doors open that he was gone, and she was alone again.

  NINETEEN

  Tomasia (Florence, 1452)

  ne day the baptistery doors would grace the most beautiful cathedral in the world. Tomi was satisfied with her work for the day, and took a moment to admire the piece before she returned to her quarters. When she arrived at home, the door was ajar and the room was empty of servants.

  “Gio?” she called. “Gio, are you here, my love?”

  “In here.” That wasn’t Gio’s voice, Tomi thought, immediately putting a hand on the knife she carried around her waist.

  “Who’s there?” Tomi walked inside the bedroom and screamed.

  Andreas ran to her, and she screamed even louder. “Get away from me! Where is Gio?” she yelled, pushing him away. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM?”

  “Tomi, please, Tomi.” Andreas shook her. “Gio’s gone. He must have known I would return, and escaped before he had to face me. Tomi—it’s all right. It’s me.”

  “DEMON! Stay away from me!”

  “Tomi, listen. I am so sorry—I have been trying to get back to you—but I was detained. I was sure you were safe with Gio…until I realized. He’s the one we’ve been looking for all along. He has been turning the Venators against me, spreading lies, alienating my men. He even tried to kill me in Verona.”

  “The Black Fire,” Tomi whispered. “But how?”

  “I contained the fire. It responded to my magic,” he said.

  Tomi looked at him in confusion and fear. Unable to understand. But if it was true, then…She held her stomach, feeling sick all of a sudden.

  “Lucifer had returned to us. He was alive…and his spirit was in Gio,” Andreas said. “I trusted him like a brother. I loved him like a brother. But he was not who we thought he was.”