Gates of Paradise (a Blue Bloods Novel)

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.”