Gates of Paradise (a Blue Bloods Novel)

But before it could happen, she woke up.

She must have gasped, or made some sort of noise, because she’d barely sat up in bed before Lawson rushed over to her. “What is it?” he whispered. “Are you okay?”

“Just a nightmare,” she whispered back. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not—you’re shaking,” he said.

It was true—she was cold all of a sudden, and she couldn’t stop shivering.

“Lift the blanket,” Lawson said, and crawled in beside her. “Here, lie down.”

His body was warm and comforting against hers. She buried her head in his chest. “I was so scared,” she said. “It was like I was in two places at once, and something disastrous was going to happen. And I couldn’t stop it, and part of me might have even been responsible. I was so confused,” she said, and then tears came to her eyes. She could still feel the horror in her body. She had never felt so frightened. Who was that girl? What was happening to her? Was it Allegra? If so, what was she running from?

“It’s okay,” Lawson said. “It’s all going to be okay.” He kissed the top of her head and put his arms around her. They were lying together so that his chin rested on her forehead, and he began to kiss her gently at first, and then more passionately, as if not only to comfort her but to let her know, finally, how sorry he was about the way he’d left her back in New York.

Lawson moved his body against hers. His hands were entangled in her hair, and her legs were wrapped around his torso, and it was wonderful, he was so wonderful, and she lost herself in the sensation of their being together again, until the blanket slipped and she remembered they were in a room with four other people.

“Not here,” she whispered. “We can’t.”

Lawson said nothing, but he was already moving away. He must have known she was right, though she would have liked him to protest a little harder.

“Our timing is bad,” she told him.

He kissed her one more time before going back to his own bed. “Sleep well.”

As if.





THIRTY


Schuyler


chuyler texted Oliver when she left Decca’s house. Need you. Come back? I can’t do this alone.

Oliver returned to Los Angeles on the next available flight. Whatever duties he had to the Repository, his duties as her Conduit and friend always came first. Schuyler met him outside the airport and jumped into his arms as soon as he came out the door.

“Oh, hey,” he said. “I missed you too.” But she noticed he returned her hug rather awkwardly.

“I’m sorry…” She felt a little embarrassed at being so enthusiastic to see him, especially after everything that had happened between them.

“It’s okay.” He patted her back and stepped away from her, just the tiniest bit, and Schuyler understood that, while they were still friends, things had changed, and she couldn’t take him for granted anymore. Whatever had happened with that witch in the East Village had really worked. He was his own man now.

“I have so much to tell you, I hardly know where to start,” she said. “But first—tell me what happened in New York.”

Oliver shook his head. “It wasn’t good. The Repository’s been destroyed, and Renfield was murdered. The Silver Bloods can break the wards now, so the Coven is basically unprotected.”

Schuyler accepted this information; it was nothing new. The vampires’ strength had weakened considerably since the Covens had disbanded.

“And it looks like someone else was there too. They rifled through the notes. The files were left open.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.” Oliver sighed. “Whoever it was used Bliss’s code.”

Bliss! Schuyler felt a glimmer of hope. “Do you think it was her?”

“Maybe. If luck is on our side. Remember Jane Murray? Our old history teacher? She has the spirit of the Watcher now, and she’s back too. She made contact with the Coven. She’s helping them to locate Bliss, see if she has the wolves.”

So many pieces to this puzzle of theirs; so many things that had to happen before they had any chance of succeeding. And so many complications.

They walked toward the parking lot for the car. Oliver said, “There’s more. The Silver Bloods burned down our safe house in London. Don’t worry, no one was hurt—it was empty when they torched it. And the good news is that Kingsley’s back.”

“Where’d he go?”

“He wouldn’t say, but wherever he went, he said he knows now what the demons are planning, and he thinks he might have an idea on how to subvert it. He’s called for a Venator conclave to plan the attack.”

“Attack?”

“He thinks it’s better to draw them out, especially now that we know they’re on to us and they found the safe house so easily. Since we know where the Gate of Promise is, he’d rather have them bring the battle to us than wait for them to sneak up on us. Show all our cards, as they say. Make it happen.”