Revelations

by Melissa de la Cruz

  "Nothing. " Bliss shook her head.

  "It's about that boy, isn't it? Your friend?" Jordan asked.

  Bliss sighed and nodded.

  She was relieved when her sister didn't press her to talk about it. Instead, Jordan broke her bar of Toblerone in half. It was Jordan's favorite candy, and she hoarded it in her room because BobiAnne was forever haranguing her about her weight.

  "Thanks," Bliss said, taking a bite. The chocolate was sweet and delicious as it melted on her tongue. Bliss was touched. Her little sister had tried to make her feel better in the only way she knew how. "You need help with anything?" she asked, as a way to say she appreciated the thoughtful gesture.

  "Nope. " Jordan shook her head. "You're hopeless at math anyway. "

  "You've got that right. " Bliss laughed. She zapped the remote toward the small plasma television hanging over the counter. "Is this going to bother you?" She asked, flipping through the channels.

  "Nah. "

  Bliss finished the chocolate and watched television while Jordan continued to work on her math problems. When Forsyth and BobiAnne entered the kitchen a few hours later to rally the family to dinner, they found the sisters still sitting quietly together, side by side.

 

  Chapter Twenty-six

 

  An emergency Conclave meeting had been called, and at the end of it Mimi was surprised to find Bliss waiting outside the doors. "What are you doing here?" she asked, slinging her gym bag over her shoulder. She'd been in the middle of a two-hour cardio session before heading to the Force Tower. She hadn't had time to change or look presentable. Her hair was still sticking to her sweaty forehead.

  "Forsyth picked me up from school, and when he got the summons, he brought me with him," Bliss told her. "What's happened?"

  "Your dad didn't tell you?" Mimi hesitated, using a terry-cloth wristband to wipe the dampness on her cheek.

  "Something to do with a golden sword?" Bliss asked.

  Mimi shrugged without confirming Bliss's guess. She was especially annoyed with Bliss, whom she'd always assumed to be more of an also-ran rather than a homecoming queen in the grand scheme of things. Yet the city's machers and arbiters of fashion couldn't seem to get enough of the russet-haired Amazon. After opening the Rolf Morgan show, Bliss had booked more advertising campaigns than ever. Her face was everywhere - on billboards, on top of taxicabs. She was inescapable.

  Mimi would forgive sudden fame and glory - God knows that's what everyone in New York was after - but she couldn't forgive Bliss for choosing sides, especially since it was the wrong one. Everyone at school knew Bliss and Schuyler were besties. Mimi found it insulting that Bliss, a girl who wouldn't have had a social leg to stand on in Duchesne without Mimi's blessing, had turned her back on the in-crowd to hang with the ragged little group of misfits.

  She didn't want to share her information, but the opportunity to lord her insider status over her former friend was too much for Mimi to resist. "It's Michael's sword," she explained. "The Blade of Justice. "

  "What about it?"

  "It's missing. Charles called the meeting as soon as he discovered it was gone. " Mimi had arrived at the Conclave to find her father at the head of the table. Charles had been furious. He was certain someone on the Conclave had taken it, and had begun the assembly by accusing several members of robbery.

  Bliss looked around at the Elders, who were leaving the meeting in whispering groups. "Why is it important?"

  "Duh. Don't you remember? It's the Archangel's sword. It's only one of two in the world. Gabrielle has the other, of course - you know, Allegra - but no one knows where it disappeared to when she went AWOL. It's been lost for decades. But Charles's, Michael's . . . he kept it in a blood-lock in his study. But someone broke in. It's gone. He's sure the Croatan have it," Mimi explained. The blood-lock was the most powerful security the Blue Bloods had in their arsenal. Only the blood of an Archangel could open the case. It was an impossible puzzle. With Allegra in a coma, there were no other suspects.

  "What's it got to do with the Silver Bloods?" Bliss wanted to know, as she sucked on the bandage covering her thumb. She'd woken up one morning to find it bleeding. Odd. Maybe she'd gotten a splinter in her sleep?

  "Only an Archangel's sword can kill another Archangel. I can't believe you don't know that, Bliss," Mimi scolded. "Haven't you been doing the reading?"

  "But why would Charles want to kill Allegra?"

  "Not Allegra. God, do I have to spell everything out? If Lucifer is out there - you know? The High Prince of Darkness? Lucifer's a former Archangel. It's the only thing that can kill him. Normal Blue Blood swords - you get them before you're bonded, by the way, or don't you remember that either? Those just work against any old Silver Blood. But Michael's sword is the only one that can kill Lucifer. "

  "And now it's gone. "

  "Yeah. It sucks. Charles is really losing it if the sword slipped from his care," Mimi sighed. It truly looked bad for her father. She could sense that there were members of the Conclave who were suspicious of this "break-in. " But why would Charles steal his own sword? Did they actually believe Michael, Pure of Heart, would consort with Silver Bloods?

  Bliss looked around for her father. Forsyth was still in the room, probably talking to Charles. "So who do they think stole it?"

  "They have no idea; although Charles said Kingsley was the last person who visited him in his study. I know they should never have trusted that loser. Anyway, Kingsley's team is incommunicado in Rio. They couldn't get him on the telepath. And Lawrence hasn't been checking in either. It's chaos," Mimi said a tad gleefully.

  "I hope they don't think Dylan's behind it. He can't be," Bliss said nervously.

  "What are you talking about?" Mimi asked. "Dylan? Why would he be involved? Didn't he disappear on you a few months ago? He's like, history. " Mimi dimly remembered the story of how Dylan had broken into Bliss's window before being taken by a Silver Blood. Bliss had been inconsolable for days, and Mimi had tried to comfort Bliss by reminding her that the monster could have taken her too. She was lucky to be alive. The Conclave had sent a team to investigate and track down Dylan's whereabouts, but the Venators had found nothing.

  "Don't you know?" Bliss asked.

  "Know what?"

  "Dylan's back and he's in rehab. "

  "Are you sure we're talking about the same guy. Dylan - your deadbeat ex and the guy who killed Aggie? Who got turned into a Silver Blood?" Mimi demanded. Bliss wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. A girl who was still wearing last season's sack dresses in May was totally clueless, as far as Mimi was concerned.

  "Yeah. "

  "Why would I know about it?" Mimi asked.

  "You're on the Conclave. I turned him in to Forsyth. He said he would let the Conclave know, so that everyone could make a decision. He said the Elders decided to send him to Transitions. "

  Mimi shook her head, looking mystified. "No. Your dad never mentioned it in a meeting. We did no such thing. " She looked at Bliss like she was out of her mind. How strange that Forsyth would keep something like that a secret from the Conclave.

  "That's odd, why would he lie to me?"

  "Who knows?" Mimi studied Bliss. "Dylan's really back? You're sure?"

  Bliss nodded. "We visited him the other week. "

  "Take me to him. I'll let Forsyth know I need to make a report on Dylan for the Conclave. "

  Cordelia Van Alen Files

  Repository of History

  CLASSIFIED DOCUMENT:

  Altithronus Clearance Only

  Cordelia. - I trust you will find this satisfactory. Forsyth L.

  The Houston Star

  Birth Announcement

  Congressman Forsyth Llewellyn and his wife, the former Roberta Prescott, are the proud parents of a new baby daughter. Jordan Grace Llewellyn was born exactly at midnight on January 1, 1994. Jordan is the second daughter of the congress
man. Mother and baby are doing well.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

 

  Because Mimi wanted to see Dylan right away, they decided to visit him the next day, which would mean cutting classes again. Not that Bliss minded all too much. Her grades were the furthest thing on her mind at that point. That evening, Bliss did not ask her father why he hadn't told the Conclave about Dylan. She was wary about letting him know she knew he was keeping secrets from her. Forsyth must have had his reasons, but somehow Bliss had a feeling he wouldn't share them.

  The next afternoon Bliss packed Dylan a care package. She knew he was receiving the best care money could buy, but Transitions wouldn't have the newest indie-rock CD or a copy of Absolute Sandman. She thought maybe if he had a couple of his favorite things, it would remind him who he was, and in tandem, what Bliss had meant to him. She just didn't want to give up on him. She'd even decided to stop feeling rejected about what had happened when they'd made out that fateful night. Maybe Dylan freaking out on her was just part of his sickness.

  Jordan walked by the doorway and peeked inside Bliss's room. "Are you going up to Saratoga again?" she asked.

  "Yeah. Mimi wants to go see Dylan for the Conclave. And his doctor's there today. I can finally ask what's going on with him," Bliss explained, folding a new leather motorcycle jacket she'd had her stylist track down at Barneys and stuffing it into the shopping bag.

  Her sister walked in and sat on the bed, watching Bliss pack. "Hey . . . I wanted to ask you. . . you know how you used to have your blackouts?"

  "Uh-huh. " Bliss nodded, deciding against bringing the teddy bear in a "Get Well" T-shirt she'd bought on impulse at a card shop. Dylan would definitely think it was corny. He'd always made fun of her for having so many stuffed animals on her bed.

  "Do you still get them?"

  Bliss paused and thought about it. The blackouts used to come with unnerving regularity. She would pass out and wake up somewhere completely different from where she'd begun, with no knowledge of how she'd gotten there. "No. And I haven't had a nightmare in months either. "

  "That's good," Jordan said, looking relieved.

  But Bliss wasn't finished talking. "It's like, I get them during the day now. Like the other day - I saw this weird thing. I was holding my hairbrush and it turned into this, like, gold snake. Scared the crap out of me. "

  Jordan paled. "Gold snake?"

  "Yeah. "

  "And the other day I looked up at the sky, and I saw this seven-headed dragon. Freaked me out. "

  "This happens a lot?" Jordan asked.

  Bliss shrugged. "Kind of. I asked Dad about it. He said it was all . . . "

  "Part of the transformation," Jordan chimed in.

  "Yeah. " Bliss finished packing. Her cell phone buzzed. Mimi was downstairs with the car, waiting. Jordan was still standing there, an odd expression on her face. She looked as if she were wrestling with a decision. "What's up?" Bliss asked.

  "Nothing. " Jordan shook her head. "Have fun visiting your friend. "

  Bliss hadn't hung out with Mimi for months, and at first she thought it would be uncomfortable between them, but she had forgotten how self-absorbed Mimi Force could be. Mimi chatted easily during the entire drive, talking about everything from her new cast of human familiars, which included the hottest boys from Collegiate and Horace Mann, along with a college kid or two, as well as her plans for the summer: an intensive Chinese-immersion program in Beijing, since she wanted to display language fluency for her Stanford application next year.

  "Isn't that funny? Chinese is the only language that isn't in my memories. Huh. I'm staying with Wah and Min, you know those Chinese twins we met at the Four Hundred Ball?" Mimi giggled.

  When they arrived at Transitions, Dylan was alone in his room, watching television. "Hey. . . Bliss. . . right?" he asked, turning off the tube. "And you are?"

  "Mimi. " She looked at him sharply. "You seriously don't remember us?"

  "I remember her," Dylan said a little shyly. "She's come to see me a few times. "

  "I brought you a couple of things," Bliss said, holding up the fat bag of treats.

  "Cool," Dylan said, digging into the bag. "What's this for?" he asked, holding up the black leather jacket.

  Bliss felt embarrassed. "I . . . um. . . you used to have one. . . "

  "No, it's. . . God, it's great. " Dylan put it on. He looked just as handsome in it as the old one. He smiled at her, and her heart skipped a beat. He rooted in the bag again and removed an iPhone box.

  "I thought you might want one," Bliss said. "I hope you don't mind. I already programmed my number into it. "

  "Bliss," Mimi asked. "Could you leave us alone for a bit? I'd like to ask Dylan some questions. "

  "Sure. "

  Bliss left the room. A few minutes later, Mimi opened the door. She looked at Bliss with a mixture of pity and contempt. "Well?" Bliss asked.

  "It looks like he really has no memory," Mimi said.

  "I told you. "

  "It's amazing. It's like he's a total blank slate. "

  "You say that like it's a good thing. " Bliss glared at Mimi and went back inside the room.

  "What did she want to know?" she asked Dylan.

  Dylan shrugged. "Not much. . . just a few weird things - and something about jeans or something. I didn't really get what she was after. I told her I didn't even know my name when I woke up. "

  "You really have no idea who I am?" Bliss asked, sitting next to Dylan on the bed.

  He looked down at the comic book he was leafing through and put it away. Then he reached over and held her hand in his. She was surprised and looked at him fearfully. . . hopefully. . .

  Dylan frowned and then finally spoke. "I don't know who you are. But I do know that every time I see you, I feel better. "

  Bliss squeezed his hand and he squeezed hers back. They sat holding hands for a very long time. Until Mimi knocked on the door to let Bliss know Dylan's doctor was ready to see them.

  As they walked to the main building, Mimi took off her sunglasses and squinted at a figure walking toward Dylan's cottage. "Hey, isn't that Oliver Hazard-Whatever?"

  "Yeah," Bliss said. Oliver had told her he might be visiting Dylan after school. Apparently he came up a lot to keep Dylan company. The two of them played chess. Dylan might have lost his memory, but he hadn't lost his ability to slaughter Oliver at the game, Oliver had told her.

  "Hold on. I want to talk to him for a bit," Mimi said, heading in his direction.

  Bliss wondered what on earth Mimi would want to talk to Oliver about. The two of them despised each other. But they were too far away for her to overhear them.

  She did notice that when Mimi returned, she looked extremely pleased with herself, even more so than usual.

  As for Oliver, Bliss didn't have a chance to catch up with him. Whatever Mimi said to him shook him up so much, he never did visit Dylan that day.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

 

  She heard the car before it turned the corner. A soft purring engine that grew to a massive roar. It pulled up to the alley behind the Perry Street building. A silver gray 1961 XKE Jaguar convertible, sleek and gorgeous as a bullet, with Jack Force at the wheel.

  Schuyler slipped inside the car, admiring its classic finish, its silver antique gauges and simple old-fashioned mechanisms. Jack shifted the gears and the car roared up the highway.

  They would only have a few hours together, but it was enough - although, of course, it would never be enough.

  Each day brought the bonding closer and closer.

  She had spied the invitations, and had merited one herself. She'd been surprised at first, then realized it was Mimi's way of letting her know exactly where she stood. The other day she had even caught a glimpse of Mimi in her bonding dress. Schuyler didn't know who was more the fool - she or the girl in the white dress. They were both mad to be in love
with the same boy.

  Jack was the fool, Schuyler thought, watching him expertly maneuver the car through the thoroughfare. A crazy fool. But she loved him, God how she loved him. She only wished they didn't have to hide, that they could declare their love to the world. The other evening she had told him she was tired of hiding in one place. As much as the apartment afforded an escape, it was also a prison.

  Schuyler was longing to be with him somewhere else, even for one night. In answer Jack had slipped her a note that morning telling her to meet him at twilight at the designated location. She had no idea what he was planning, but the small smile that now played at the edge of his lips hinted at a wonderful surprise.

  Jack drove the car across the bridge into New Jersey. In a few minutes they pulled into a private airfield at Teterboro, where a jet was waiting.

  "You can't be serious. " Schuyler laughed and clapped her hands when she saw the airplane.

  "You said you wanted to get away. " Jack smiled. "How about Tokyo? Or London? Seoul? I feel like barbecue. Madrid? Bruges? Where would you like to go tonight? Tonight the world is yours, as am I. "

  Schuyler didn't ask where Mimi was; she didn't care and she didn't want to know. If Jack was going to risk it, then she didn't need to ask.

  "Vienna," Schuyler decided. "There's a painting there that I've always wanted to see. "

  So this is what it's like to be one of the richest and most powerful vampires in the world, Schuyler thought, as she followed Jack inside the Osterreichische Galerie in the Belvedere palace. The museum was closed for the night, but when they arrived at the great entrance doors a gloved security guard greeted them, and the museum curator led them to the proper gallery.

  "Is this what you are looking for?" the curator asked, pointing to a dark painting in the middle of the room.

  "Yes. " Schuyler took a deep breath and looked at Jack for reassurance. In answer he squeezed her hand tightly.

  She moved closer to the painting. She had a faded poster of the same image tacked up in her bedroom. The reality of it astonished her. The colors were so much more vibrant and engaging, fresh and alive. Egon Schiele had always been one of Schuyler's favorite artists. She'd always been drawn to his portraits - those heavy, tortured dark lines, the gaunt figures, the eloquent sadness applied as thick as paint.