Gates of Paradise
Page 24

"I guess that's it. I feel like it'll be high school all over again, and what a success we were at that," Schuyler agreed.
"Don't worry, this won't be like high school; and besides, haven't you forgotten? You married the BMOC. You're like the prom queen," Oliver teased. Seeing her reaction, he turned grave. "I'm sorry - it was a tacky joke."
"No, you're right, and I'd rather not pretend like Jack's not here, like that whole thing didn't happen."
"He's alive, Sky, I know he is. And he's thinking of you too, wherever he is."
She nodded. "I just wish..." I just wish I knew where he was. If he was okay. If he and Mimi hadn't destroyed each other, then what had happened to them? Where were they? Was Jack all right? She felt unmoored without him. There was so much she wanted to tell him and to share - about her father, her human family, Finn. It was as if things had not truly happened to her until she told him about it. She was glad for Oliver's company, but it wasn't the same. The watchful presence was still around, she noticed, but subdued somehow. She wondered if she would ever find out who or what was watching her.
"Listen, at some point we have to find a way back into Finn's room when she isn't there. I have to see if there's any way to extract the blood from those paintings. If there's any chance it's Ben's, this might be what we're looking for."
The party was in a house that was, for a lack of a better way to describe it, disgusting. It was a run-down Victorian that was shared by a group of eight boys, none of whom seemed to have any interest in maintaining a hygienic residence. Schuyler's shoes stuck to the hardwood floor when she walked in the front hallway, and it was even worse in the kitchen, where the boys had stored the keg. There were so many people, they had to push their way through the crowd to make their way in.
"Is there anything else to drink?" Oliver asked. "Whiskey maybe? I'd settle for a blend if you don't have single malt."
Finn laughed. "You're so funny! If you go through the cabinets you might be able to find some Soco."
"Soco?" Oliver sniffed.
"Southern Comfort?" Finn laughed. "Ever heard of it? It tastes okay with Seven Up."
Oliver scrunched his face.
"You're such a snob, Ollie," Schuyler chided. "Come on, let's have a beer." She didn't really want one, but if they were going to try to fit in, they had to do what the natives did.
Reaching the keg seemed impossible, though - there were so many people swarming it: preppy boys in their gingham button-downs over T-shirts and jeans, girls in ironic grandma dresses, everyone jostling for red plastic cups. "You have to be aggressive at parties like this," Finn said, and used her elbows to muscle her way up to the keg.
"Impressive," Oliver noted.
A tall boy in a lacrosse hoodie nudged Oliver out of the way and handed Schuyler a beer. "Here. Pretty girl like you shouldn't have to wait for a drink."
"Oh, thanks," she said, a bit unsure whether it was a good idea to accept.
"At your service, m'lady. May the gentleman inquire as to your name?"
"Oh, leave her alone, Trevor," Finn said, with three beers balanced in her hands. She gave one to Oliver and nodded to Schuyler. "Looks like you're all set, and you've met our resident lothario. Trevor, go find some naive freshman to hit on. Schuyler's with me."
"It was worth a shot." Trevor shrugged and made his way back into the crowd.
"Oh, he was harmless," Schuyler said.
"Sure, if you're looking for a one-nighter with no phone call afterward," Finn said.
"Speaking from personal experience?" Oliver asked.
Already jealous, Schuyler noted. Interesting.
"No, that's Ivy's territory. More beer for us, though." Finn took a long drink from her cup and motioned for Oliver to do the same, then nearly spit it out when she saw the look on Oliver's face as he downed his drink.
"Come on, it tastes like New York tap water," Schuyler said to him. "Don't be so uptight." It wouldn't hurt him to have a few drinks to loosen up in front of Finn, she figured.
After two beers Schuyler felt a little looser herself, so she decided to go exploring. Unfortunately, the rest of the house was even grimier than the parts she'd seen. The bathroom had apparently never been cleaned; there were rings of mildew around both the tub and the toilet, and the bedrooms were carpeted with what had once been beige shag and was now trampled brown. The undergrads were boisterously drunk, and after watching one of them vomit into the pot of a long-dead plant, Schuyler decided it was time to go.
Oliver and Finn were in the living room, dancing to some horrible pop song. She hadn't seen Oliver dance since the old days at the Bank. She'd forgotten what a good dancer he was. He was pretty smooth, she noticed. He blended in so well with the college crowd that she hated to drag him away. "I think I need to get out of here," she whispered.
"Would you totally hate me if I stayed here with Finn? I'm actually having a really good time."
It was just as she'd expected. "No problem. Our flight leaves first thing in the morning, though, so if you don't come home, text me and I'll meet you there, with your luggage. Finn, would you mind if I went back to your dorm? I think I left something there."
"Oh, sure," Finn said. "Someone can let you in the front door, and my apartment's unlocked. I know it's totally unsafe, but my roommate's always forgetting her keys, and we don't have much to steal."
"Thanks a lot," she said. Easier than she'd expected. She didn't like lying to Finn, but it was better than breaking in and risking getting caught.
"I'll walk you out," Oliver said.
"You don't have to," she said.
"I want to."
Oliver helped her elbow her way through the crowd until they made it outside. "Are you sure you're okay with this? You know I'd normally go with you, but..."
"I understand," she said.
"The thing is, I don't know if this is weird, but..."
"You're really into Finn."
He brightened. "Do you think she's into me?"
"It's pretty obvious, and yes. I think you two would be perfect for each other."
Oliver wrapped his arms around her. "Thank you," he whispered.
Schuyler felt a momentary pang of loss. It had been a long time since they'd been together, and they'd never talked about it, but she knew they'd both been wondering what might happen if Jack never came back. She hadn't wanted to fully contemplate the possibility, and Oliver had gone to great lengths to get Schuyler out of his system, literally, but the prospect was always there, an unanswered question between two old friends.
But now it was clear. Even if Jack never came back, Schuyler and Oliver weren't meant to be. Maybe it was too soon to say that he'd found someone he was meant to be with, but Schuyler couldn't imagine anyone better. Her best friend and her newfound sister - what could be more perfect?
"Don't screw this up," she said, and reached up to give him a brief kiss on the lips.
One last kiss.
Chapter Forty
Mimi
ingsley stood in the entrance to the living room and waited for the buzzing to stop. He was as handsome as ever, Mimi couldn't help but notice, with his thick, dark, almost black hair and clear blue eyes. He scanned the crowd, and she saw him stop and stare right at her.
He knows, she realized. He can see through the disguise, through the illusion. He knows it's me behind this mask.
She was elated and terrified at the same time.
What would he do?
They locked eyes for a long time. Then his gaze continued to sweep the room.
Would he buy it? she wondered. Would he believe her? He had to, for this to work. He had to believe she was false, that she was a traitor, that she was doing everything in her power to work against him and against the vampires. His life depended on it. If he believed she was still true to him, then all was lost.
She had to make him believe the lie - it was the only way to keep him safe. Mimi realized there was no other way out of this equation, this predicament Lucifer had designed for them. Maybe Jack had found a different way, but she did not know anymore. Something inside him had changed, she knew that now. Somehow, Jack had given up the fight.
She called out to him. Jack? Jack, are you there?
But there was nothing. Perhaps she was too late; perhaps he had already found Schuyler and was doing whatever it was he had decided to do.
Kingsley began to speak. "As you all know, we have long been engaged in a battle for control of the seven gates that guard the Paths of the Dead and keep the demons and their brethren in Hell. The Silver Bloods have been on a mission to destroy them all so that Lucifer may return from the underworld. So far, due to the courage, loyalty, and ferocity of our remaining Venator teams, the Gates of Hell remain standing, even as we have weathered heavy losses in the struggle against the Nephilim."
He took a deep breath. "But that is not why I have called you all here today. We have since learned that the attacks on Hell's gates are merely a distraction. For our enemy has focused his arsenal on something much more important. The Gate of Promise, Gabrielle's gate, guards a bisected path. One path leads to the underworld, and the other path is a way back into Paradise."
There was a collective gasp from the room.
Kingsley waited until they had settled down. "We have also learned that Lucifer has discovered a means of harnessing the godsfire, and he means to use this weapon to wage war upon Heaven itself."
The room buzzed with fear and anticipation.
"We have to stop him," Kingsley said. "We cannot allow the Dark Prince to reclaim what is not rightfully his."
"How are we supposed to do that?" someone finally yelled out.
Kingsley smiled. "I'm glad you asked," he said. Always the charmer, even as he was rallying the troops for battle. "We have two advantages in this fight. One: Lucifer will not be able to take Paradise without the key to the gate. I have dispatched a team of Venators to protect the gatekeeper and take her to a secure location. There is little chance of the Silver Bloods finding her; and without her, they will not be able to take the gate. The other is..."
"Stop!" Deming cried. "We can't discuss our plans now. Not in front of her." She pointed to Mimi, almost daring her to take out her sword. "This is not my sister! This is a traitor! Aperio Oris!" the Venator cried. Reveal yourself!
The mask slipped away and Mimi stood in the middle of the room. Her long lustrous platinum hair falling on her shoulders. A smirk on her face.
"She's working for the Silver Bloods! She is no longer our Regent!" Deming yelled.
Mimi was trapped. The Venators had surrounded her before she could unsheathe her sword. She looked around - at the faces that stared at her with abject hatred and fear. They would kill her. Slowly. And they would enjoy it.
Now was the moment of truth. She looked at Kingsley and waited - waited to see whether he understood, whether he'd seen their "battle" for what it was. A charade, a ruse, a desperate deception to save her love and her Coven.
But the blue of his eyes turned icy, and she knew she had lost him, finally. That he had given up hoping. Her plan had worked.
He believed she was false.
He believed in the lie.
She didn't know whether to rejoice or despair.
"Seize her," he said.
Chapter Forty-One
Tomasia (Florence, 1452)
he was a princess, trapped in a castle. Andreas had ordered her to bed for the remainder of her pregnancy. She was alone, with only the Venators assigned to her protection - loyal Bellarmine, stoic Valentina. When Andreas visited, which was rare, Tomasia tried to talk to him, to determine whether he presented a threat to her unborn offspring, but he would not discuss it. Instead he insisted that she rest, undisturbed, in her chambers. She had asked for clay so that she might work on her art; perhaps then she would not be so lonely. He had relented, and she spent the days consumed with her work while Andreas went hunting with his new partner, Ludivivo Arosto.
Ludivivo, one of the conclave, had always been like a father to Tomasia in the past. In this cycle she had only met him once or twice before Andreas had essentially forced her into solitude. She recalled only a slim, fair-haired boy, who seemed better suited to life as a scholar than to that of a slayer of Silver Bloods. But when Andreas came to visit, he related tales of his and Ludivivo's many successes. It almost made Tomasia envy them, until she imagined trying to chase after Silver Bloods with her present girth.
"You are making tremendous progress on your sculptures," Andreas said, examining the tableau she'd laid out. It was the most elaborate piece she had ever attempted. Three figures surrounded a gate: one, a woman, was lying on the ground. The other two, both male, stood above her, facing one another. She had not yet begun work on any of the faces; she was sculpting from memory, and the memories were becoming harder and harder to bear.