Gates of Paradise (a Blue Bloods Novel)

“Does that look familiar?” she asked Bliss.

Bliss blinked. It was the wall. The wall of the theater from her dream. This was it.

“Here.” Ahramin pointed at a grate in the stone floor that seemed to be useless—it just covered another stone.

“What are we looking at?” Bliss asked.

Ahri looked around to make sure no one was watching, then lifted the grate.

“It’s just another rock,” Edon said.

“Look closer.”

Bliss peered at the stone. Just like all the other ones. But wait—there was a gap between that stone and the one next to it.

“Watch this,” Ahri said, then inserted her fingertips into the space between the stones. She pushed, and the stone easily slid back, revealing a narrow stone staircase.

“You really did it,” Bliss said, trying not to sound too surprised.

“Let’s go!” Malcolm said.

“No, you guys need to stay back,” said Bliss.

“You can’t go alone,” he argued.

Bliss looked at Edon and Rafe. She didn’t want to be responsible for something bad happening to Malcolm.

“Take Mac; he’s small but he’s still a wolf. A fighter. We’ll stand guard here,” Rafe said. “We’ll make sure no one else goes down there; and if you’re not back in an hour we’ll come and check on you.”

“Me first,” Malcolm said.

“I don’t think so,” Bliss said, and made her way down the stairs.

Malcolm followed closely behind her. “I can’t see anything.”

Bliss turned on her phone. The screen made a dim light, but it was enough. The stairs were narrow and seemed to go on for a long time, but finally they reached the bottom. They’d only walked a few steps before Bliss could see that they were standing in the same courtyard with the columns from her dreams.

“This is it,” she said. “The Theatre of Pompey. The entrance to the passages.”





THIRTYNINE


Schuyler


chuyler wasn’t sure why she was so nervous. She’d been to tons of fancy parties in New York, and even more beyond that. Masquerade balls, elaborately themed galas…She should be completely jaded by now. But for some reason, the thought of going to a basic college kegger was freaking her out. She tried to explain it to Oliver as they walked the few blocks to the house where the party was being held. Finn was up ahead of them, with Ivy and a bunch of her other friends.

“Oh, it’s not surprising at all,” Oliver said. “It’s to be expected, really. You’re off to a classic Red Blood social function with your newly discovered human half-sister. Have you ever been more out of your element? It’s not like we got invited to parties at Duchesne all the time.”

“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.”